"So how are we gonna do this? I literally have two left feet."
"It's easy."
"Oh, and did I mention my scars?"
Killian and West were at the skate park. After the school day had ended, West had volunteered to properly teach Killian how to skate. He had seemed eager to learn, but now that they were there, he had doubts.
"And how is your board still intact? It's hideous and it's ancient."
"This is a classic Tony Hawk board."
"Yeah, from 2000 BC." Killian shot back impassively.
"I don't think he existed in--"
"Weston."
"Look, we're already here. We might as well get it over and done with. I'll catch you if you fall."
"That last part has a serious double meaning. I like it." Killian winked cockily.
West blushed to the tips of his ears, then cleared his throat, "Shall we?"
"We shall."
-
So... West failed miserably. He couldn't teach Killian anything. He tried to show him the basics, but true to Killian's word, he did have two left feet. West couldn't count the number of times the guy had face-planted onto the rink. He now had several new bruises to add to his Scar Collection. They even tried skating with their hands held, but that only resulted in both of them eating shit, and unfortunately, a sprained shoulder for West.
After that incident, Killian had ushered West off the rink and sat him down onto the well manicured lawn so he could take a look at his shoulder. Killian offered to take off his long sleeved undershirt so that West could use it as a makeshift sling.
He kindly declined 600 times before giving in and letting Killian take care of him.
"Did you think about what we spoke about last Friday?" Killian inquired as he massaged West's shoulder to ease some of the pain.
"Yeah. I talked to him. Kinda."
"When you say talk..."
"I said more than 2 syllables, yes."
"Okay, but, is there a reason why you go hours without saying a word to anyone?"
"Talking is exhausting."
Killian gave West's shoulder a soft pat then collapsed on the lawn right next to him. "So is living with regret and words that were left unspoken..."
"I have no regrets currently."
"Okay," Killian sighed, "I won't force you into doing anything you're not comfortable with. Like I said, whenever you're ready--"
"Well, well, well. If it isn't Killian Ackerman. And what's this? You're hanging out with the local druggie?" A husky voice interjected. The boys raised their heads to look up at the figure towering over them and simultaneously grimaced when they recognized who it was.
Steven Murphy was truly a sight to behold. He was a tall fellow with lean muscles and a killer jawline that could cut through metal. He had perfect tapered hair which he dyed different colors every now and then, and the most captivating brown eyes in the whole of Easton. Those same eyes were the ones which drew Killian in when he first moved here. Steven was his first everything, and that included his first heartbreak. Matter of fact, Steven had a rough history with both Killian and West.
"Fuck off, Steven." West sneered. He quickly glanced over in Killian's direction. His usual sky blue eyes had darkened into a mixture of grays and blues and now resembled a storm at sea. He'd never seen Killian's eyes look so cold.
Steven lustfully raked his eyes up and down Killian's body and smirked. "Cat got your tongue, Killy? If I'd known you were that horny, I'd have called you up. We both know you enjoyed it the last time. You didn't have to resort to this junkie--"
One moment Killian was seated on the lawn, the next he was bashing Steven's head in with his fists. It all happened so fast, that West was literally Frozen in place. He was still processing the event that was happening right in front of his eyes. Only when a crowd started to form around the brawling boys, did he snap out of his trance and take action. He quickly removed the sling and tore Killian, who was surprisingly heavier than he looked, from Steven, whose beautiful face was brutally beaten. He was a bloody mess, his nose was obviously broken, he had a busted lip and both of his eyes were now sealed shut.
Yeah, nah, remind me to never to upset this guy.
West shuddered then pulled Killian away from the crowd, which gave both of them looks of disgust, to a more quiet area.
"Fuck. You okay?"
"No, I'm not fucking okay. You should've let me finish him!"
"No. Because that's what he wanted. To rile you up. You should never give people like that attention, they thrive on it. And they'll continue doing it once they see that they have control over your emotions. Avoid their bait at all costs."
"What, you've had an encounter with him or something?"
"Plenty."
Killian narrowed his eyes at West, he wanted to question him more about it, but decided he could do that another day. For now, however, he just wanted to rest. His body was aching and his hair was sticking out in different directions. Definitely not a good look, he had a pretty boy reputation to uphold.
"Let's just go."
-------
After the skate park, West had walked a grumpy Killian home then retreated to his own house. He then took a much needed shower to destress and alleviate the pain in his right shoulder.
He thought about the skate park, he had fun teaching Killian how to skate... Well, he had fun teaching Killian how to get on his board, cause that was all he could manage to do without falling off.
The fight that happened after that was purposely blocked from his mind. He didn't want to think about Steven. He had already ruined West's life once, and Killian was already in a sour mood because of him. The asshole.
Other than that, he rather enjoyed spending the day with him. West knew his feelings for the blue-eyed boy were getting deeper and deeper.
Especially since they spent almost everyday together. And strangely enough, he didn't mind it at all.
He thought about what it would feel to date Killian; A guy. Would Paul freak out? He didn't seem to mind his brother's relationship with a man, though. Maybe He'd grown more accepting over the years? But West didn't want to test that theory. Not after what happened with Steven in 6th grade, the day which sent everything spiraling out of control... until now. And there was still the underlying fear that Paul would take back his words and things would go back to the way they were. Even though he had been keeping his distance so far.
West dried off and changed. He ventured downstairs to fix a tuna sandwich then sat on their worn couch and flipped through multiple channels to find something to watch while he ate. As he popped the last bite of bread into his mouth, the front door opened. He quickly glanced at the door, then swallowed uncomfortably. He started to get up when Paul stopped him.
"Please don't."
"I'm just trying to go wash my plate."
"Oh. Sorry."
West grimaced, then ducked out into the kitchen. He still wasn't used to his dad loosely throwing such words around.
He washed his plate then turned from the sink only to find him standing in the kitchen doorway.
"How was your day?"
"Dad, please. This isn't you. I'd rather subject myself to Billie Joe Armstrong's guitar solos than to listen to you trying to pretend you care."
Paul rubbed the back of his neck then looked at West, "I, uh, thought you hated rock music..."
"I do."
"Look, I'm not trying to be someone I'm not, I'm trying to make things right between us. One of the key things they taught us at our A.A meeting today was admittance. I know I'm powerless when it comes to alcohol, West, I have an addiction." He sighed.
"I haven't exactly been the best father to you. I know I can't take back the things I've said and done, but I want you to know that I am truly sorry. I love you, West. More than anything. I won't give up on you. On our family. I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to get you to forgive me, and maybe one day, to trust me."
"Dad..."
"You don't have to say anything."
West's mind drifted to the earlier conversation he had with Killian. As much as he hated to admit it, He made sense. There were a lot of words left unspoken between him and his dad. There was no way to rationalize or justify his abuse, but West thought that maybe if he knew where his father's abusive nature stemed from, he'd get a good grasp of why he had been so horrible towards him. He wanted to understand his father better.
"I will... forgive you, but you'll have to work hard to earn my trust."
Paul let put a breath that he didn't know he had been holding. "I know, son. Thank you."
"We're going to watch Korean dramas now." West stated as he turned to head into their living room.
Paul stood wide-eyed at the Kitchen counter for a few minutes. West's words took him a while to process. Did West just willingly suggest they hang out? Like normal people? They've hung out together before, but West was never one to initiate such things. He started to think that maybe his brain lost too many nerve cells during his 10 year alcohol binge, and was now making stuff up.
Paul followed West into the living room. He had to confirm if he really said what he said or if his mind was playing tricks on him. He hoped it was the former.
When he entered the room, West had his back to him and was leaning over something. He slowly turned to look at Paul, his arms hanging at his sides.
"Son--"
"Is this what I think it is?"
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