A/N: My friend is bisexual, and I'm the only one who knows. Everyday her
parents ridicule homosexuality, saying it's disgusting, wrong, and
appalling. For those of you who think it is, please click the back button.
I've learned to see it from the other side, and my friend isn't concerned
about sex and appearances nearly as much as the straight population in
general. She loves another girl purely for her personality, and her soul.
Homosexuals aren't "gay" or "strange", actually they're pretty cool. And I
am a HUGE Zeke/Casey shipper. I think it's adorable how Zeke is the
charming mature one that teaches Casey all about the things he doesn't
know, and how he's amused by his innocence. They're a cute couple. Flame me
if you will, but what's wrong about having an open mind? In this story,
Casey is just developing into teenage angst and love. He's trying to
understand how his love for Zeke can be right, and trying to avoid the fact
that he thinks it's wrong.
This story in three words: Cute. Sweet. Angsty.
Enjoy this chapter and future ones.
*
Motionless.
This is ever burning.
Quiet.
He's breathing slowly.
So familiar. So tainted.
Innocence like the lamb before his slaughter.
Filthy images. Pleasant images. Laughter, faded. Eyes transfixed.
His smile, the last image of hope. Hope and serenity tainted with cigarette smoke and meaningless kisses. Falling on the stairs, following his lost words. Gone. Death is his delight.
Gone, his refuge. Gone, his Zeke.
*
Gasping for breath, Casey's delicately constructed fingers closed in around his bedsheets. His first sight were the numerals; 8:01. Late again.
The elegant lashes framing his beautiful ocean avenue blue eyes still held the remnants of the past night's mare, replaying throughout his mind. His gentle grip on his camera tightened as his father came into view. And as much as he wanted to, he could not escape this house without a discolouring bruise set into his lush skin.
"Late again, Case? You must be exhausted to have slept in again. Why don't I give you a ride, to save you from walking?" His father's business- like demeanour sickened Casey. Mr. Connor adjusted his black tie with the hand he struck his son with every night.
"No thank-you. I'll walk." Casey placed the camera in his backpack, stopping for a moment to touch the lense softly. He smiled. So many images captured. Filthy images. Pleasant images. Images of Zeke.
Mr. Connor chuckled slightly; Casey knew that laugh. Frustration. So tainted.
Mr. Connor firmly laid a hand against the hall wall behind Casey's head. He turned his chocolate brown curls in dread, awaiting to bleed. Eyes transfixed.
"Are you sure you don't want a ride, son?" his tone was enough to convince Casey that he didn't want to face the consequences. His gaze fell to the floor.
"Okay. I'll wait in the car."
Casey knew it was a mistake the second he slammed the car door. He shifted uncomfortably as his father, briefcase in hand, locked the front entrance.
"Are you trying out for the football team? They've got openings. Ms. Drake called me yesterday, said the Coach will hold a spot for you if you're interested." Mr. Connor shifted in his seat as he revived the engine.
"I'm not interested." Casey couldn't look his father in the eyes; he knew what was coming.
"What the hell is wrong with you, son? Opportunities pass you by and you never grasp them! You could succeed!"
The car took a sharp turn into a street Casey recognized that was nearby Herrington High. Houses were concealed behind billowing branches of trees, and the streetlights were glowing a dull orange. The car ceased vibrating. Casey turned to his father, only to be struck across the face with his fist. He felt a cold trickle from his nose. He bit his lip.
Motionless.
Quiet.
"Fuck!" Mr. Connor slid out of the binds of the seatbelt. "Fuck you, Casey! What the hell is wrong with you? Why couldn't you be the son I've always wanted?" Casey began to tremble, fumbling for the door handle. Before he could move any further, Mr. Connor clutched his throat and slowly tightened his grasp.
He's breathing slowly.
Casey slammed his hand against the windows profusely. Damn these tinted windows.
He felt his father's grip become more gentle as he placed his palm against Casey's flushed cheek.
"When you were born I swore I thought you were female. Beautiful blue eyes, rosebud lips, and your mother's nose. You were... gorgeous. No one is born that beautiful without being violated and taken advantage of. I've always wanted to do this... you look just like your mother."
He grabbed Casey's face and pressed his lips onto his.
Innocence like the lamb before his slaughter.
Casey tried desperately to scream as tears streaked his face. He could not understand what was happening; kisses are shared between lovers. This was not love, it was lust and disgusting. He had dreamed of kissing Zeke every miserable moment of his life... he longed for Zeke. Only he could comfort him.
Casey struggled to grab his backpack as he felt his nosebleed thicken. He trembled as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
For a single moment, everything was frozen. His heart ceased. His blood... motionless.
Mr. Connor's fingertips were pressed inside his son's jeans.
Casey cried out as he fell against the door handle. The car door was sent agape, Casey sent stumbling on the naked street across from Herrington High. Mr. Connor regained his composure and slammed the car door, whilst doing so rolling down the window.
"I'll see you after school, Casey."
As he faded from sight, obviously fuming, Casey silently prayed that he wouldn't.
*
*A/N: So what do you think? Don't worry, loads of Zeke/Caseyness ahead! I know, the image of Mr. Connor sexually abusing his son is disturbing, but, well, you'll get it later in the story.
Love ya all!
-mardini
This story in three words: Cute. Sweet. Angsty.
Enjoy this chapter and future ones.
*
Motionless.
This is ever burning.
Quiet.
He's breathing slowly.
So familiar. So tainted.
Innocence like the lamb before his slaughter.
Filthy images. Pleasant images. Laughter, faded. Eyes transfixed.
His smile, the last image of hope. Hope and serenity tainted with cigarette smoke and meaningless kisses. Falling on the stairs, following his lost words. Gone. Death is his delight.
Gone, his refuge. Gone, his Zeke.
*
Gasping for breath, Casey's delicately constructed fingers closed in around his bedsheets. His first sight were the numerals; 8:01. Late again.
The elegant lashes framing his beautiful ocean avenue blue eyes still held the remnants of the past night's mare, replaying throughout his mind. His gentle grip on his camera tightened as his father came into view. And as much as he wanted to, he could not escape this house without a discolouring bruise set into his lush skin.
"Late again, Case? You must be exhausted to have slept in again. Why don't I give you a ride, to save you from walking?" His father's business- like demeanour sickened Casey. Mr. Connor adjusted his black tie with the hand he struck his son with every night.
"No thank-you. I'll walk." Casey placed the camera in his backpack, stopping for a moment to touch the lense softly. He smiled. So many images captured. Filthy images. Pleasant images. Images of Zeke.
Mr. Connor chuckled slightly; Casey knew that laugh. Frustration. So tainted.
Mr. Connor firmly laid a hand against the hall wall behind Casey's head. He turned his chocolate brown curls in dread, awaiting to bleed. Eyes transfixed.
"Are you sure you don't want a ride, son?" his tone was enough to convince Casey that he didn't want to face the consequences. His gaze fell to the floor.
"Okay. I'll wait in the car."
Casey knew it was a mistake the second he slammed the car door. He shifted uncomfortably as his father, briefcase in hand, locked the front entrance.
"Are you trying out for the football team? They've got openings. Ms. Drake called me yesterday, said the Coach will hold a spot for you if you're interested." Mr. Connor shifted in his seat as he revived the engine.
"I'm not interested." Casey couldn't look his father in the eyes; he knew what was coming.
"What the hell is wrong with you, son? Opportunities pass you by and you never grasp them! You could succeed!"
The car took a sharp turn into a street Casey recognized that was nearby Herrington High. Houses were concealed behind billowing branches of trees, and the streetlights were glowing a dull orange. The car ceased vibrating. Casey turned to his father, only to be struck across the face with his fist. He felt a cold trickle from his nose. He bit his lip.
Motionless.
Quiet.
"Fuck!" Mr. Connor slid out of the binds of the seatbelt. "Fuck you, Casey! What the hell is wrong with you? Why couldn't you be the son I've always wanted?" Casey began to tremble, fumbling for the door handle. Before he could move any further, Mr. Connor clutched his throat and slowly tightened his grasp.
He's breathing slowly.
Casey slammed his hand against the windows profusely. Damn these tinted windows.
He felt his father's grip become more gentle as he placed his palm against Casey's flushed cheek.
"When you were born I swore I thought you were female. Beautiful blue eyes, rosebud lips, and your mother's nose. You were... gorgeous. No one is born that beautiful without being violated and taken advantage of. I've always wanted to do this... you look just like your mother."
He grabbed Casey's face and pressed his lips onto his.
Innocence like the lamb before his slaughter.
Casey tried desperately to scream as tears streaked his face. He could not understand what was happening; kisses are shared between lovers. This was not love, it was lust and disgusting. He had dreamed of kissing Zeke every miserable moment of his life... he longed for Zeke. Only he could comfort him.
Casey struggled to grab his backpack as he felt his nosebleed thicken. He trembled as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
For a single moment, everything was frozen. His heart ceased. His blood... motionless.
Mr. Connor's fingertips were pressed inside his son's jeans.
Casey cried out as he fell against the door handle. The car door was sent agape, Casey sent stumbling on the naked street across from Herrington High. Mr. Connor regained his composure and slammed the car door, whilst doing so rolling down the window.
"I'll see you after school, Casey."
As he faded from sight, obviously fuming, Casey silently prayed that he wouldn't.
*
*A/N: So what do you think? Don't worry, loads of Zeke/Caseyness ahead! I know, the image of Mr. Connor sexually abusing his son is disturbing, but, well, you'll get it later in the story.
Love ya all!
-mardini