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- 05/12/2013
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Nemesis: Because I Want You - 15. Chapter Fifteen: Come Home
Stuck between the do or die, I feel emaciated. Hard to breathe I try and try, I'll get asphyxiated. Swinging from the tallest height, with nothing left to hold on to. Every sky is blue, but not for me and you.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Come Home
The following days consisted mostly of hanging out in Dave’s bedroom or—when they were feeling adventurous—the garden, playing video games, and playing board games with Jason who, as it turned out, was a huge board game nerd and had them playing everything from Risk to obscure fantasy board games Nick had never even heard of. It all helped him take his mind off Craig. He was pleased with that. He shoved it to the back of his mind and they hadn’t spoken of it since the first evening. At night he would wake up sweating and sobbing, though, and Dave would hold him until he stopped shaking and fell asleep again.
On Easter morning, Dave woke him up with a giant easter egg. They spent most of the morning and part of the afternoon in bed, munching chocolate bunnies and cream eggs and drinking tea. Dave made regular kitchen runs and brought up toast and scones and more sweets. By five in the afternoon, they were very full and happy and still not dressed. Nick wore pants and a large t-shirt. Dave was in cotton pyjama bottoms and little else.
‘We should probably put some clothes on,’ Dave remarked, looking at his watch on the bedside table. ‘I expect Jason would at least like to see us for dinner.’
‘Dinner?’ Nick laughed. ‘God, I can’t eat another bite of anything, I’m so stuffed!’
‘You sure?’ Dave smiled slyly and took a piece of chocolate in his mouth. He advanced on Nick and pressed their lips together in a delicious chocolatey kiss. Nick laughed.
‘I wish it was Easter every day!’ he sighed.
‘Just imagine how fat we’d be,’ Dave replied.
‘Mm, yeah, but happy.’
They both pulled on jeans, but before Dave could get a t-shirt over his head, Nick pounced on him and pushed him down onto the bed, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips.
‘Haha, gotcha!’ he said, grinning.
‘Wanna bet?’ Dave retorted, and they wrestled for a little bit. Dave was winning, but then Nick caught hold of his earlobe with his teeth and he lost his resolve and stayed down. He moaned softly as Nick captured his mouth in a deep kiss.
There was a loud crashing sound, and they broke apart to find the door had been thrown open, and in the doorway stood Dave’s father, his face bright red and his blue eyes wide and furious.
‘What the devil is going on here?’ he growled, advancing on them. ‘Get off my son, you bloody poof!’ He grabbed Nick by the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him off Dave, flinging him to the floor with surprising strength. Nick hit the floor shoulder first and cried out in pain.
Dave’s reaction was instantaneous. ‘Don’t you touch him!’ he shouted. He swung a fist at his father, knocking him to the floor. He was out cold.
Then he was there, helping Nick to his feet. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked urgently. ‘Did he hurt you?’
‘Just bruised,’ Nick replied, getting slowly to his feet. ‘I think I’m okay.’
‘Good, get your jumper,’ said Dave, pulling on a t-shirt. ‘We have to get out of here right now, before he wakes up.’
Nick pulled a jumper over his head and got his mobile off the bedside table. Then they hurried down the stairs into the hall.
‘I don’t know what he’s doing home,’ said Dave. ‘They weren’t meant to be home until Tuesday.’
In the hall they found Jason and Dave’s mother.
‘Where’s your father, David?’ his mother asked.
‘Taking a nap,’ said Dave. Her eyes widened, and she hurried up the stairs. ‘I’m borrowing these,’ Dave told Jason, taking a set of keys from an end table.
‘And where are you going with those?’ asked Jason.
‘Away,’ Dave said. ‘Nick, get your shoes on, and grab your jacket, or you’ll get cold.’ He grabbed the two motorcycle helmets from the top of the wardrobe, took Nick’s hand and opened the door. Nick took the black leather jacket that had long been his now from a hook by the door.
‘Not on my bike, you’re not!’ said Jason. ‘You’re not even old enough to have a license!’ But he wasn’t wearing his boots, and before he could get them on, Dave had dragged Nick to the driveway where Jason’s red Triumph stood.
He handed Nick one of the helmets and put the other one on himself. Then he sat on the bike and told Nick to get on behind him. ‘Just hold onto me, and lean the way I lean,’ he instructed, and before Nick could blink they had set off. He heard Jason shouting something, but he didn’t know what. He held Dave tightly around the waist. He only now noticed how his heart was pounding in his chest, and he realised that they were on a motorbike, that Dave didn’t have a license, and that they had no idea where they were going, but somehow, even though he should be terrified, he wasn’t. He trusted Dave.
After what might have been anywhere between twenty minutes and three hours, they pulled up outside a bed & breakfast.
‘Where are we?’ Nick asked.
‘Not sure,’ said Dave. ‘Along the M5 somewhere.’
‘How did you even know how to do that?’
Dave shrugged. ‘Jason taught me last summer. Bet he wishes he hadn’t, now . . .’
They headed inside.
* * *
Dave unlocked the door to their room. It was tiny, with a single bed and peeling wallpaper, but it was cozy enough. It would do. They’d had to argue with the receptionist for a while to let them share a single room. Ten quid had helped her give in.
Dave threw the key down on a small table next to the door and put the bike helmet next to it. Nick entered behind him. In his hands he held a few bags of crisps and two cans of coke from the machine in reception. They closed the door and locked it.
‘What happens now, then?’ asked Nick quietly, setting down their make-shift dinner on the table next to the key.
‘I don’t know,’ said Dave, earnestly. ‘We can worry about tomorrow tomorrow.’
They both took off their shoes and jackets. Then they turned to look at each other. Nick’s weary expression probably mirrored Dave’s own. Dave felt tired, defeated, vulnerable. His father knew. He hadn’t thought he cared what his father thought anymore. He’d been wrong. The angry, disappointed look on George Thompson’s face had hurt him more than he could ever have believed.
As though he could read Dave’s mind (and he probably could at this point, Dave thought), Nick put his arms around him, pulling him close. Then they looked at each other again, and their lips met. Dave couldn’t help the urgency with which he kissed Nick. He wanted to be as close as humanly possible. Needed it. Soon, he took complete control of the kiss and the embrace, and was slowly steering Nick through the room towards the bed. Nick pulled off his jumper as they went. When they made contact with the mattress and could go no further, Dave lowered Nick onto it.
Dave climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, looking down into his face. He grabbed Nick’s hands and held them up above his head. Then he leaned down and kissed him again, even harder and fiercer than before, biting at his lower lip. His lips moved from Nick’s mouth down to his neck, his tongue flicking out to caress his earlobe. Then he removed Nick’s t-shirt. One hand moved down to play with his nipples. Nick arched his back and moaned aloud, his eyes closed. Dave stayed his ministrations briefly so he could take off his own shirt. Then he got to work on Nick’s zipper.
He hesitated for a moment, and he looked into Nick’s eyes. ‘Are you okay with this?’ he asked. ‘I don’t want to push you, if it’s too soon after . . .’ He looked away. But Nick took Dave’s hand and guided it down to the waistband of his jeans, and Dave looked at him again. ‘If I start this, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop,’ he warned him.
‘I know,’ said Nick softly. ‘It’s okay. I don’t want you to stop.’ He smiled weakly.
Dave swallowed audibly and finished the job of removing Nick’s trousers. Nick didn’t break eye contact with him. Soon, only Nick’s pants remained. Dave hesitated again, so Nick shifted a little under him and removed his pants himself.
Dave broke eye contact and his gaze moved downwards. Drawing a ragged breath, he touched Nick for the first time.
‘Is . . . Is this okay?’ he asked, his voice a little shaky.
Nick nodded, not saying anything, biting his lip, and Dave stopped holding back.
* * *
They lay there panting for several minutes, neither of them moving. Then Dave got up, slowly. He went to the bathroom. Nick felt like he ought to have been nervous, being in this position for the first time. It ought to have felt awkward and strange. As a victim of sexual violence, wasn’t this supposed to bring back all the bad memories or give him a panic attack? It didn’t. It just felt natural and right. Dave’s hands and Dave’s mouth, it was everything he had ever wanted.
Dave returned with a wad of toilet paper so Nick could wipe his sticky stomach clean. Then they crawled under the moth-eaten duvet and lay there gazing at each other, utterly naked and exhausted, and happy.
Nick traced Dave’s jawline with his finger and Dave closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.
‘Dave?’ said Nick.
‘Mhm?’ replied Dave, sleepily.
‘I love you.’
Dave reached up and grabbed the hand caressing his face. He kissed Nick’s palm and looked into his eyes again. ‘I love you too,’ he said.
After that, they both fell asleep, though Nick woke again twice that night.
The first time, it was to Dave kissing his neck softly. Nick released a drowsy moan and draped his leg languidly over Dave’s hips. Then he kissed him, slow and unhurried, letting his hands roam over his body again, until they were both panting and rutting against one another, soon bringing each other off before drifting off again.
The second time was less pleasant, Nick waking with a jolt, sweating and sobbing, from dreams of large, calloused hands holding him down. His sobs roused Dave almost immediately, and his boyfriend held him in his arms, stroking his hair and kissing him softly until he calmed.
‘In Greek mythology, there’s this thing called nemesis,’ Nick mumbled when he could breathe normally again.
‘Like, enemy?’ Dave asked, lightly stroking Nick’s upper arm.
‘No, that’s a modern misunderstanding of the word,’ said Nick. ‘Nemesis was a goddess or spirit. Her name actually means “to give what’s due”. Nemesis was a sort of personified divine retribution, a punishment for hubris. Do you know what hubris means?’
‘Yeah, it’s like arrogance, right?’
‘Yeah, arrogance before the gods. Though actually, originally, it sort of meant sexual assault or victim shaming . . .’
‘All right, Nickypedia,’ Dave teased. He curled his body around Nick’s, pulling him closer. ‘This little philosophy debate going anywhere?’ he asked through a demonstrative yawn.
Nick shrugged. ‘I dunno. I guess, nemesis is kind of like karma. It’s about getting what’s coming to you. So if you’ve got it too good, if you’re too comfortable and you start taking life for granted, bad shit happens. Maybe that’s what’s happening to me, with my mum and Craig and everything. I was too happy, I had it too good.’
‘Hm.’ Dave sounded unconvinced. ‘Or maybe bad shit just happens sometimes. Maybe your nemesis is that things are going to get better now. Maybe that’s what you’ve got coming to you.’
Nick smiled a crooked smile, meeting Dave’s eye. He reached out and smoothed back Dave’s hair, and Dave closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into the touch. When he opened them again, they had that determined look, the one that said, ‘I can do anything.’
‘I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you get your due,’ he murmured. ‘To make sure you get to be happy.’
‘You already make me happy,’ said Nick, smiling.
‘Good, that’s a start,’ said Dave. ‘You deserve to be happy. Now, go back to sleep.’
Nick closed his eyes obediently. He was almost asleep when Dave’s voice roused him once more.
‘Or maybe it’s my nemesis,’ Dave was muttering sleepily. ‘Maybe you’re my nemesis. I spent all this time acting an arrogant sod and being horrible to you, only to go and fall in love with you first chance I got. It would have been a cruel punishment . . .’ he yawned, ‘except you were in love with me, too. I don’t think the gods thought this one through . . .’ Then he seemed to drift off.
Nick smiled and shook his head. He listened to Dave’s steady breathing for a while and soon fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
* * *
The following morning, Nick picked up his phone to find that it had been switched off all night. Turning it back on, he discovered some twenty-odd missed calls from his sister. He sighed and shook Dave awake. Dave grunted and opened his eyes reluctantly. Nick showed him his mobile.
‘I guess you had better ring her,’ said Dave.
Nick did. It barely rang once.
‘Nick?’ Zoë’s voice sounded panicked. ‘Where are you? What’s going on? Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ Nick assured her. He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and yawned. ‘We’re both fine.’
‘Yes, but where are you?’
‘We’re at a B&B along the M5. We’re safe.’
‘We’re coming to pick you up.’
Nick’s heart sank. We? Could she mean her and Craig? ‘Who’s we?’ he asked, slowly.
‘Jason and I,’ Zoë replied. ‘He rang me when you ran off, I headed straight back. We’ve been up all night. God, we thought you must have crashed and died when we couldn’t get hold of you . . . I’m at the Thompsons’. We’ll come and get you, just give me the address.’
Nick breathed a sigh of relief and gave it to her. Then they bid each other goodbye.
Nick turned to Dave. ‘Zoë’s coming to get us, with Jason,’ he said. He took Dave’s hand, tracing circles in his palm with his index finger. ‘What are you going to do?’
Dave sighed. ‘I guess I’m going home to face the music,’ he said. ‘I can’t run away forever.’ He pulled Nick against him and Nick breathed in the scent of sweat and sex and, underneath it all, Dave, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he looked up at him.
‘They probably won’t get here for another hour at least,’ said Nick, trying for a wicked smile. ‘Wanna grab a shower?’
Dave cocked an eyebrow at him. Then he grinned. ‘Yeah, all right.’
He followed Nick into the bathroom and, for a little while, they both allowed themselves to forget to worry about what was to come.
* * *
The drive back was very quiet. Nick and Dave sat in the backseat holding hands. Nick supposed Zoë had been filled in on everything anyway, so there was no point in hiding it. He saw her glance at them in the rearview mirror occasionally.
Jason was riding his motorbike next to them or, occasionally, behind or in front of them. It was a bit like having a police escort, if police rode red motorcycles and wore black and red leather jackets.
They pulled up in front of Dave’s house and Jason went to park his bike. The front door opened and Dave’s mother appeared. Dave’s grip on Nick’s hand tightened a little.
‘I don’t want to go back,’ he whispered.
‘It’ll be okay,’ said Nick. ‘I mean, what can they actually do to you, other than ground you?’
‘You don’t know my dad.’ Dave sighed. He glanced uncomfortably at the back of Zoë’s head.
Nick smiled, leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek. Dave turned his head around and kissed him lightly on the lips. Then he unfastened his seatbelt and got out of the car. Nick did the same and waved glumly to Dave before getting into the passenger seat. Zoë waved to Jason, and they drove off.
‘So,’ said Zoë. ‘You are gay.’
Nick nodded.
‘And you ran away because Dave’s parents got home early.’
‘Yes,’ said Nick.
‘That was very irresponsible of you,’ said Zoë, but she was smiling. ‘Was that what you wanted to talk to me about? You and Dave?’
‘That, too.’ Nick took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how to broach the next subject. ‘Could you . . . could you pull over, please?’ he asked. Zoë did.
‘Right, then. What else?’ she said, turning towards him. Her smile quickly dissipated upon seeing the look on his face. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
‘It’s . . . It’s about Craig,’ said Nick, and before he knew it he was crying. ‘He . . . he’s done things . . .’ And then he was telling her everything, between ragged sobs, about what had happened when they had been alone in October, the fight, about Dave taking care of him in the park and how he had been the only one who knew the whole time. About the phone call with Dave a week ago, and how Craig had overheard. And the beating. And the rape.
When he got to that part, Zoë was sobbing too, and had grabbed hold of him and was hugging him tightly.
‘You’re so stupid! Why didn’t you tell me? I’m so, so sorry . . .’ she whispered. ‘This is all my fault!’
‘It’s not,’ Nick replied. ‘You didn’t know.’
‘No, but I should’ve done. I’m meant to be looking after you. I’m so sorry!’
Then she got out her phone and called the police.
There's been some discussions in the reviews for the last chapter, and I appear to have alienated some of my readers. I would like to thank those of you who have taken the time to tell me why you found what happened last chapter unacceptable, for your honesty and your openness, and I'm sorry that I've lost your readership (which means you're not reading this either, probably, but still).
However, I also feel the need to add, in the words of Oscar Wilde:
'Nothing makes one so vain as being told one is a sinner. Conscience makes egotists of us all.'
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