words spill from their queer mouth

Dear Peter,

I see you, often. I see you, hear you, smell you, feel you, taste you, smell you, experience you, more than I would like to admit (even to myself). I see you in the men down at the cafe, dressed in fine suits and leather shoes, drenched in that that rich cologne, as they drink their teas and discuss their business. I hear you, when my next door neighbor shouts at his dog for making too much noise - and when he speaks to him in a soft, comforting voice, during stormy nights. I smell you, when I visit the old woman that works at the flower shop, as she always has at least one thorny rose tucked up in her hair. I feel you, when dirty old men I’ve waved my hand at follow me back to my shitty apartment, throwing me on the bed and fucking me until I scream your name. I taste you whenever the pain gets too much, and I have to drink and drink until the world goes dark. I smell you when I get too lonely, and I dig out that old sweater of yours that my therapist says I should throw away.

I experience you in honey: The color, those beautiful golden hues that remind me of your eyes; the feel of you massaging that mixture of honey and other things through my hair, whispering into my ear how soft easy to grab it would be after it was done soaking; the taste of honey and sugar on your lips, as you forced your tongue into my mouth, the feel so sweet, yet so bitter…

I hate that you are still present here, in every moment of my life, even though you are gone. I hate that my life is one You experience after another. I hate you.

"I have a theory," Hadelis said, running his fingers lovingly through Damien's curly, greasy hair. It was getting long - he really needed to cut his boyfriend's hair soon, to keep him looking at least semi attractive.

"W...what's your theory about...?" Damien asked, cautious. Hadelis smiled.

"Why you're so damn shy." Damien tensed slightly, but Hadelis continued to softly card his fingers through his hair, as though he didn't notice. "Why you don't speak to anyone in public. Why you've stopped going to church. Why you hide your cute little Southern accent. Why you hide your lovely little body. Why you are the way you are."

Damien was shaking now, quivering like a little leaf. How cute.

"Don't you want to know what my theory is, hm?" Hadelis asked. There was no response, but he didn't expect one. "Well, my theory is that you are so shy, so withdrawn...is because it is simply your nature. It's not because I beat you. Not because I do things to you without your permission. Not because I control every aspect of your life from how much food you consume to when you get haircuts. It is simply because you are you."

Damien was shaking even worse now, so much so that his head was practically vibrating where it rested in his lap.

Hadelis's hand tightened in Damien's hair, yanking slightly. "Isn't that right? Isn't my theory correct?"

"Y....y-yes, it is..." Damien managed to stutter out.

Hadelis smiled coldly. "And why is that, darling?"

Hadelis held out his hand expectantly, not saying a word. Damien shakily reached into the pocket of his slacks, pulling out the silver flip phone, before placing it in his boyfriend’s hand.

In the beginning of their relationship, Hadelis used to do weekly phone checks, but lately, they had become more frequent. Damien was not sure what Hadelis thought he would find on there - Damien hardly knew how to work the phone, and usually, the only person he talked to on it was Hadelis. Hadelis, in fact, was the one that insisted he get a phone in the first place, so he could check up on Damien whenever he was out of the house. Damien never brought up either of those things, though, simply letting Hadelis do as he pleased.

“Who is this?” Hadelis asked abruptly, breaking the tense silence between the two.

Damien’s eyebrows furrowed, tilting his head. “Who?”

Hadelis’s grip on the phone had tightened exponentially, his lips pressed into a thin, angry line. He abruptly turned the phone around, thrusting it in Damien’s face. “Who. Is. This.”

Damien had flinched on instinct, his body beginning to shake, but he did not cower…not yet. He instead looked at the number. Immediately, he felt his heart drop. Oh.

“Th-that was just…j-just the pharmacy calling, b-because…m-my prescription needed renewed…” It was a blatant lie, and they both knew it.

Hadelis flipped the phone shut, before slamming it against Damien’s forehead in one fluent movement. Damien immediately crumbled to the floor, curling into a small, protective ball, as he held a hand over the bleeding gash.

Hadelis kneeled down, unfazed, before saying, “Don’t lie to me. Who called you?”

Damien did not hesitate this time. “I-it was Nick…N-Nick Grant…”

Hadelis’s eyes narrowed. “Nick Grant. That idiot grad student that is interning at my practice? Why would he call you?”

Damien knew he was just digging himself deeper…if he told the truth, he would likely be beaten to within an inch of his life…but if he lied, he would still be beaten.

“I…I c-came to see you at the hospital one day, b-but you were busy…I ran into him, w-we talked for a bit, a-and he offered to buy me coffee…b-b-but I refused! I s-swear!”

Hadelis remained silent for a moment. Calm, eerily so. Then he asked, “Well, why did he call you yesterday?” Before Damien even had the chance to answer, Hadelis continued speaking, his tone becoming gradually more harsh. “What did the two of you talk about? Did you talk about me? Did you say something that would have made him suspicious? Did he see any bruises or anything like that?”

Damien curled up into a smaller ball, shaking. Hadelis reached out, grabbing ahold of Damien’s hair, wrenching his head back. “Answer me,” he demanded.

“I-I-I….h-he might have s-seen a s-small bruise…b-but I promise! I d-didn’t tell him anything!” Damien briefly met Hadelis’s cold brown eyes, trying to show him how sincere he was.

Hadelis continued to grasp Damien’s hair for several moments, before releasing him, abruptly climbing to his feet. Damien’s phone crashed to the ground, before Hadelis brought his foot down on it, instantly crushing it.

Damien flinched at the noise, but did not move beyond that, until Hadelis spoke once more. “You are not to ever speak to him again, nor are you to try to come visit me at work. In fact…you are not allowed to leave the house, unless you are accompanied by me, until further notice.”

Damien swallowed hard, giving a small nod. It wasn’t the worst punishment he had ever received, but still, the loss of his freedom was a hard blow.

Damien could sense the curling of Hadelis's lips more than he could see them, as his head was lowered submissively, his body quivering as his eyes stared holes into Hadelis's fine leather shoes.

Hadelis liked leather things.

"You're shaking," Hadelis stated, his tone bordering on mocking. Damien curled on himself a bit more, as Hadelis took a few, measured steps forward. He abruptly grabbed Damien's stubbly chin, jerking his head up so that Damien would be forced to stare into Hadelis's cold eyes. "Nervous?"

 Damien remained silent, simply staring into his boyfriend's eyes. Typically, it was better to be quiet in these sorts of situations, lest speaking upset his volatile boyfriend. 

 Hadelis was having none of that today, though, for his nails dug into the flesh of Damien's chin, baring his teeth as he once again demanded, "Are you nervous, baby?"

 Damien stuttered for a moment, before he manages to say, "I-I-I ain't...."

 Hadelis released his chin, only to slam his open hand against Damien's mouth, causing his head to jerk back. "Speak proper English when you address me. None of that hillbilly bullshit," Hadelis warned.

 Damien managed a small nod, hesitantly licking his busted lip, before saying, "I-I'm not nervous..."

 The other man took a step back, allowing Damien room to recover. After a moment, though, his voice once again came out cool, even, as he stated, "You're lying."

 Curling into himself, Damien opened his mouth to argue, before allowing it to snap shut once more. He was lying and the both of them knew it.

 "Say," Hadelis mumbled, after a moment of silent contemplation. "Isn't lying a sin in that religion of yours? A sin worthy of punishment?"

 "H-Hadelis, please..." Damien whispered, desperate. Before he could truly begin to beg, however, Hadelis placed something below Damien's chin, jerking his head up once more. He shuddered at the feel of the belt Hadelis had removed from his waist, pressing against the sensitive skin of his throat, no longer even trying to speak.

 "Shirt off. Lay over the table. Twenty will do, I think."

 As Damien followed his orders, silently and obediently, his earlier thought once again popped back into his head.

Damien stood at the door, head lowered. It was a common stance for him to take, and normally Hadelis rather enjoyed how submissive it made his boyfriend appear…but tonight…

He fought back the rising anger, the fire beginning to burn in his chest, his voice instead coming out calm, collected. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

Damien continued to stare at the ground for a moment, before lifting his head. In spite of how his shoulders rounded, how he quivered ever so slightly…there was a fire in his eyes, a determination that Hadelis had never seen before.

“I…just what I s-said. I…I can’t deal with you hurting me all the time anymore. I…I’ve had enough…”

Hadelis blinked slowly, before taking a step towards him an amused expression dancing over his face. “Oh? Why are you saying this all of a sudden?”

Damien flinched at his approach, wincing, but his voice came out strong once more, “You yell at me! You beat me! You take from me what you want without consent, without reciprocation…I m-may not think much of myself, but I’m aware enough now that the way I’m being treated isn’t right! I don’t deserve this!”

Hadelis reached out then, slowly, grasping Damien’s wrist loosely. He simply held his hand there for a moment, seeing if Damien would waver.

He didn’t.

Hadelis hand tightened suddenly, his grip almost inhuman, before he twisted the wrist, shattering the bone there with several audible cracking sounds.

Damien was used to pain, so he did not scream too loudly…but it was obvious that this pain he was feeling was intense to say the least.

He sunk down to the floor, cowering at Hadelis’s feet, sobbing as he cradled his destroyed arm in his lap. Hadelis merely smiled that cold smile Damien was all-too-used to, lovingly stroking Damien’s greasy hair, before calmly saying, “You may not deserve this. But you need it.”

Hadelis then walked into the kitchen to begin preparing their supper, leaving his boyfriend curled up on the floor…where he remained, until it was time for supper.

Hadelis was right, he supposed, as he dragged himself to his feet, staggering to the dining room.