His hand gracefully caressed the side of the younger boy's cheek. It was smooth, warm, and relatively unmarked by time. He swallowed gently as he looked into Edd's eyes, his little princess staring back at him with complete anticipation and almost clawing for his attention. Terry grinned as Edd sat atop of him, laying back on the bed they had made love on nearly a thousand times, or so it seemed.
"Terry? Why did you let them come?"
Terry sighed, rubbing his forehead, "I couldn't stop them."
"You did for years before, Eddy hadn't seen you since he was a child. Why didn't you stop them?"
"What do you want from me, sweetheart?" Terry growled, looking at the boy above him, "they would have came anyway, he was threatening to run away from home. Then they'd blame me!"
Edd pouted, shaking his head sharply, "He would never run away. He was pushing and pushing you..."
"Goddamn right," Terry interrupted, angrily staring at Edd, "Pushed and pushed until I gave in."
"Kind of like I did for you?"
Terry groaned, his heart sank as those words struck him like a ton of bricks. The boy was right. He had submitted to Eddy's demands just as Edd had submitted to his. Only this time the consequences were permanently destructive. He reached up to caress Edd's face again, only for a loud screeching siren scream into his ear.
ABABABABABABABABA
"Fuck," Terry groaned under his breath, rubbing his eyes gently. He looked around and remembered where he was, protective custody, PC. The place they stuff pervs, sickos, and snitches. He looked at the very constrictive cell. His cage.
The sound of footsteps coming up the corridor crept up on him. Officer Frantisek, old-timer career guard on the block. He remembered the words he heard the man say when he was first sent into the PC, the old man had been having a conversation with another guard, talking about how they used to line up and shoot child molesters when he was a kid. Terry rolled his eyes, sure, whatever.
Frantisek came up to the bars of the cell and looked in, "Morning Mr. Sampson, sleep well? Sweet sick dreams?"
"Only of your retirement," Terry hissed, earning a few throaty chuckles from Officer Frantisek, who walked away to the next cell. Terry sat back on the bunk, looking at his hands in his lap, sighing. He was going to be in this cell for a long fucking time. Already 7 months into a 300 year sentence. It didn't make any sense to him. Not like he was going to live 300 years, probably wouldn't see 50 years. He silently laughed at the idea they were going to keep his skeleton in the cell to see that he never got out.
He could remember the trial. It was like a trial of the century, at least, for Peach Creek it was. He'd sat there, handcuffed and ankles shackled, like he was some kind of Ted Bundy motherfucker. He hadn't caused one iota of problems for the fucking police department. He knew the dream was over, there was no fighting his way out of it, there was no chance of getting back the all the months he'd had with his princess. He remembered the way the jury sneered at him. The way the judge eyed him with disgust as the DA read off every sick and disgusting thing.
They didn't understand.
He turned to see his princess sitting on the toilet beside his bunk, toilet paper on the seat so as to not dirty his ass. He groaned, "They didn't want to understand. They wanted to lock me up and throw away the key...and they did."
You threw everything away for me.
"I don't regret it," Terry remarked, listening to the prisoners hurling threats and insults as they walked by the door of the PC unit, "Did what I had to do to prove my love."
I've never stopped loving you.
That was one thing that still ate at him, like a cancer. The burning need to hear from his princess. He knew Edd's letters would never make it to him. They'd "lose" the mail at the prison post office. He gritted his teeth as he remembered the way those fuckers sat in the courtroom and watched him get pummeled with judgment after judgment. Those fuckers who had the gall to call Edd their "son". He was a fucking angel, they had no right to ever touch him, they had no right to demand of him.
He was better than them. He was better than everyone. He was certainly better than Terry. Terry put his head in his hands, some regret filled his stomach, weighing down his heart. All the times he'd mistreated Edd, every time he hit and slapped and overpowered him. Terry turned and punched the wall of his cell, not hard enough to break his hand, but hard enough to scrape his knuckles.
His princess was delicate. His princess was total perfection in physical form. He didn't deserve any kind of pain, anguish, whatever. He deserved only love and affection. Terry groaned hard, he had tried so hard, he never knew what love was until he laid his eyes on Edd. He could never bring himself to explain it in court, nobody would ever have listened to him, his parents and brother judging him with everyone else.
Eddy. His archenemy. The little motherfucker who wore him down with constant pushing and then, ruined everything. He hoped, with all his heart, that the little fucker was no longer part of Edd's life. He hoped and he willed that Eddy was forever a bad memory to Edd. Terry growled when he recalled everything that Edd had told him about Eddy's mistreatment and using him for his mind. Fucking bastard.
Now, he was stuck. Stuck in a cell for 23 hours-a-day. For the rest of eternity. He was going to be stuck. He'd been stuck his whole life, in one way or another. He was stuck in his house as a kid. He was stuck in his dead-end job at the carnival. Stuck in that fucking trailer. Stuck in his love for Edd. Now, stuck again, but there was no leaving this location. Unless, by some chance, the guards decide to push him out into the yard and let all the self-appointed vigilantes beat him to death. He knew that was a possibility, or so he had seen on television.
His breakfast would come through the door soon. He laid back on his bunk and looked up at the ceiling, blank and gray. He could remember the taste of beer. The taste of cheap cigarettes. He could remember the taste of all the greasy cheap food he'd ate. The feel of the warm bed after a long day of dealing with cunts and brats. He could remember Edd on his bed, the two of them curled up, reading and listening. The two of them laying on the couch, watching some educational shit, because that's what his princess loved. The dinners made and consumed. The magical day at the fair, with his Marion dressed so darling and wearing the soft squid hat he'd got him.
Finally, he could remember, his favorite memories. The way they used to fuck. The way they made love. After all the dark times, the beautiful warm memories of sex. Edd finally coming around to loving him. The combined passion they shared. The way his dreams came true.
The epic perfection that was Edd.
He worried, of course, he always worried. He didn't worry about the possibility of death. He didn't worry about the fact he was going to be stuck in this prison for the rest of his life. He didn't worry about anything really physical. He worried, most of all, that the memories would fade. He'd forget the memories made with his princess. He'd forget the love they shared. He'd forget the touch. With all the bland surroundings, he'd forget it all, and there wouldn't be any kind of way to bring it back.
"I love you, princess," Terry spoke gently, closing his eyes to imagine touching Edd's cheek. It was like he could feel the skin on his love's cheek. He could feel the soft warm skin. He could see the boy looking down at him, smiling brightly, his pretty gap showing. His hair longer, with his hat off and his eyes dreamily staring at him. He could almost feel the pressure in his chest swell up. If this was it, he wanted to go, he wanted to let it go now. Here, with his love, for the rest of eternity.
"Here's your breakfast, inmate," Frantisek growled, opening the food slot on the door and setting his tray of food on it. Terry opened his eyes, the fantasy gone, the gray ceiling staring back at him. He scratched his prickled face and raised back up, getting the tray from the slot.
Stuck in his cage. Stuck in his prison. Stuck in his hell. Stuck in his love.
He was stuck.