A/N: Sorry about the slow updates. I've been in Disneyland stalking cute (gay) guys. Long story, don't ask, lol. Anyway, thanks to everyone who's reviewed. Hope you enjoy and please R+R.
Chapter Five: Brotherly Love
Curt wasn't used to crowds. He hadn't seen many people in the hospital; most of the people there weren't the type one wanted to see. The crowd Sunday morning was large and noisy, a buzzing that worked its way from the front of the crowd to the back, where the Wildes sat.
His mother's head was bowed, her face staring solemnly at her shoes. His father stared at the pulpit, the glow in his eyes defiant. But not proud, Curt noted, eyes following his mother's.
Alex's leg pressed against his, heat seeping through his slacks. He squirmed uncomfortably. His father's hand landed on his knee, effectively stopping his fidgeting. Curt glanced up at him; Michael just looked away, not meeting his son's gaze. Curt looked back down.
The collection plate had just been passed around; the choir floundered on the last notes of their song as the preacher climbed the steps to the stage. He flashed a smile at the crowd, huge and dazzlingly false. "Brothers and sisters," he greeted them. "Please stand and join me in a prayer." Curt stood and bowed his head as the preacher began to speak. "Lord, thank You for this day. Thank You for the love enfolding this building, thank You for the health of your people. And thank You for the protection from the sin that is around us, so that even if that sin dwells in our homes, in our families, in our very brothers, it cannot infiltrate our souls."
Curt squeezed his eyes shut tight, but salty wetness wedged an opening in the shutters covering the blue-gray orbs. Finally, the prayer was over, and Curt sank into the hard pew, wishing he was invisible, wishing he was dead.
*
Time had dragged by, each minute longer than the last, the ticking of the clock a grim echo, barely audible above the pastor's sermon. Finally, it was over. The Wilde's took their time in exiting, not seeming to notice the hidden stares or muted whispers directed their way.
Curt split away from his family at the exit, heading toward a group of his old friends. He didn't wait for them to turn away as he moved closer, didn't wait for their snickers to reach his ears; he just veered off to the side, heading into the alley behind the church.
Curt thought he'd be alone, but leaning against the back wall was Lewis Corman, a half smoked cigarette held casually in his hand. He looked up and nodded as Curt approached. "You want?" her asked, holding the cigarette out. Curt nodded hesitantly and reached for it. He took a puff, then coughed, harsh spasms racking his thin frame. "Your first," Lewis said, smile tugging at his skinny lips.
"Yeah," Curt replied, passing it back.
"You'd think you'd try *something* up in New York."
Curt's brow ruffled. "New York?"
Lewis's eyes glinted in the pale sunlight as they met Curt's. "Yeah. Boarding school. All sorts of nasty things go on there… Or so they say."
"Boarding school?"
"The cat's out of the bag. Your father told us about your foray into the city. Nothing to be ashamed of, after all." Lewis took the cigarette back and took a long drag. "So how was the big bad city?"
Curt shrugged. "Fine. I mean, great."
"Fuck it. You're no fun," Lewis said, flicking the cigarette away. "Everyone knows, Curt. Your father can make up whatever bullshit he wants to about boarding schools and scholarships, but everyone knows that your big brother likes-"
Before he could finish, Curt hit him. It didn't even register in his brain; he just pulled his fist back and slammed it forward, into Lewis's nose. The older boy barely stumbled back; just grimaced, then smiled, lips curling around his teeth nastily. "A little sensitive, aren't you? 'Specially since I was so nice to you."
Curt's eyes narrowed. "Just stay away from me."
"Not a problem. No one likes spineless little queers, anyway."
"That explains why you're so unpopular then," Curt shot back over his shoulder as he strode away.
A growl and heavy steps were his only warning before Lewis's shoulder slammed into Curt's back. They fell in a tangle onto the pavement, Lewis's arm yanking Curt's head back as his fist pummeled Curt's side.
Suddenly the hard blows stopped; Lewis's yelling took on a shrill tone as he was lifted off of him. Curt opened one eye, and stared as Alex tossed the other boy away. He held a hand out for Curt, waiting to haul him to his feet.
Curt stared up at his savior, then curled into a ball and turned away.
Chapter Five: Brotherly Love
Curt wasn't used to crowds. He hadn't seen many people in the hospital; most of the people there weren't the type one wanted to see. The crowd Sunday morning was large and noisy, a buzzing that worked its way from the front of the crowd to the back, where the Wildes sat.
His mother's head was bowed, her face staring solemnly at her shoes. His father stared at the pulpit, the glow in his eyes defiant. But not proud, Curt noted, eyes following his mother's.
Alex's leg pressed against his, heat seeping through his slacks. He squirmed uncomfortably. His father's hand landed on his knee, effectively stopping his fidgeting. Curt glanced up at him; Michael just looked away, not meeting his son's gaze. Curt looked back down.
The collection plate had just been passed around; the choir floundered on the last notes of their song as the preacher climbed the steps to the stage. He flashed a smile at the crowd, huge and dazzlingly false. "Brothers and sisters," he greeted them. "Please stand and join me in a prayer." Curt stood and bowed his head as the preacher began to speak. "Lord, thank You for this day. Thank You for the love enfolding this building, thank You for the health of your people. And thank You for the protection from the sin that is around us, so that even if that sin dwells in our homes, in our families, in our very brothers, it cannot infiltrate our souls."
Curt squeezed his eyes shut tight, but salty wetness wedged an opening in the shutters covering the blue-gray orbs. Finally, the prayer was over, and Curt sank into the hard pew, wishing he was invisible, wishing he was dead.
*
Time had dragged by, each minute longer than the last, the ticking of the clock a grim echo, barely audible above the pastor's sermon. Finally, it was over. The Wilde's took their time in exiting, not seeming to notice the hidden stares or muted whispers directed their way.
Curt split away from his family at the exit, heading toward a group of his old friends. He didn't wait for them to turn away as he moved closer, didn't wait for their snickers to reach his ears; he just veered off to the side, heading into the alley behind the church.
Curt thought he'd be alone, but leaning against the back wall was Lewis Corman, a half smoked cigarette held casually in his hand. He looked up and nodded as Curt approached. "You want?" her asked, holding the cigarette out. Curt nodded hesitantly and reached for it. He took a puff, then coughed, harsh spasms racking his thin frame. "Your first," Lewis said, smile tugging at his skinny lips.
"Yeah," Curt replied, passing it back.
"You'd think you'd try *something* up in New York."
Curt's brow ruffled. "New York?"
Lewis's eyes glinted in the pale sunlight as they met Curt's. "Yeah. Boarding school. All sorts of nasty things go on there… Or so they say."
"Boarding school?"
"The cat's out of the bag. Your father told us about your foray into the city. Nothing to be ashamed of, after all." Lewis took the cigarette back and took a long drag. "So how was the big bad city?"
Curt shrugged. "Fine. I mean, great."
"Fuck it. You're no fun," Lewis said, flicking the cigarette away. "Everyone knows, Curt. Your father can make up whatever bullshit he wants to about boarding schools and scholarships, but everyone knows that your big brother likes-"
Before he could finish, Curt hit him. It didn't even register in his brain; he just pulled his fist back and slammed it forward, into Lewis's nose. The older boy barely stumbled back; just grimaced, then smiled, lips curling around his teeth nastily. "A little sensitive, aren't you? 'Specially since I was so nice to you."
Curt's eyes narrowed. "Just stay away from me."
"Not a problem. No one likes spineless little queers, anyway."
"That explains why you're so unpopular then," Curt shot back over his shoulder as he strode away.
A growl and heavy steps were his only warning before Lewis's shoulder slammed into Curt's back. They fell in a tangle onto the pavement, Lewis's arm yanking Curt's head back as his fist pummeled Curt's side.
Suddenly the hard blows stopped; Lewis's yelling took on a shrill tone as he was lifted off of him. Curt opened one eye, and stared as Alex tossed the other boy away. He held a hand out for Curt, waiting to haul him to his feet.
Curt stared up at his savior, then curled into a ball and turned away.