Inward Rush

[Scion]

Same as always, make up your own images if you don't like mine.

Inward Rush

Part One:

TWO YEARS AGO

^*^*^

Beth got out of her bright yellow Beetle, humming merrily under her breath. Tonight was the night. Rush didn’t know it yet, but, boy, wouldn’t he be pleased when he found out.

Grinning now, she picked up a handful of pebbles from the walkway and stationed herself under his window. She knew exactly which one it was; she’d driven by more times than she’d care to admit, and had often seen him in front of the window, sitting at his desk and typing away at his computer.

She tossed one of the pebbles at the window; it bounced off the glass with a crack! She tossed a few more for good measure. A minute later, the window squealed open and out came Rush’s head.

“What the hell are you doing here, Beth?” he called, frowning, trying to tame his wild spikes of hair with an impatient hand.

She adjusted her low-cut blouse, making sure he had a good view of her cleavage before replying, “Can you come down here for a minute? I need to talk to you.” She made a pouty-face. “It’s important,” she added when he hesitated.

“Fine,” he relented, and slammed the window shut.

She went to wait for him at the front door, bouncing on the balls of her feet. When he emerged, he was shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his narrow hips. She licked her lips.

“What is it, Beth?” he demanded, lacing his arms over his chest.

“I have a present for you,” she purred, then grabbed his head, yanked it roughly down to her level, and smashed her lips across his.

Abruptly, he gripped her shoulders and shoved her away from him, swiping an arm over his mouth as he glared angrily down at her. “The hell do you think you’re doing, Beth? Are you fuckin’ crazy?”

Stung, she stuck out her chin. “No, I am not. I…I love you, Rush. I thought you knew that.” She hated the uncertainty that had crept into her voice.

He looked…incredulous. “Why in the world would you ever think that? Jesus, Beth, I thought YOU knew!”

“Knew…what?” she murmured, suddenly afraid of the answer.

He looked her straight in the eye and said, “I’m in love with your brother.”

------

Owen McKenzie was a nerd. He knew it. Heck, everyone knew it. A few years ago, he’d have cared about something stupid like that, but not anymore. He’d spent the first fifteen years of his life getting beat-up in corners and sitting alone in the cafeteria with his packed lunch.

Then Will Rushford had swooped into town like an angel and…saved him. It had been one of those ‘corner days,’ as he liked to call them; Jackass #1 and his crony, Jackass #2, had been in the process of stuffing lasagna down Owen’s pants when Rush had appeared out of nowhere, grabbed each of the Jackasses by the hair, and bashed their heads together so hard they probably saw stars.

After that, Owen had followed Rush around like a lost puppy, and Rush had been his protector turned friend. Owen looked up to the guy, saw him as some kind of superhero…which was why it hit him so hard when Rush came tumbling down off his extremely high pedestal.

It was a Sunday night, and he was up in his room doing what every good nerd should be doing on such a night: reading. He was completely engrossed in the story, so he didn’t hear Beth coming until she was through his door and throwing herself at him, sobbing her eyes out.

Startled and confused, it took Owen a few moments to notice the red welt on her cheek that was fast becoming a bruise. When he realized what it was, he clasped her shoulders and forced her to look at him.

“What happened?” he demanded hotly. “Who did this to you?”

“I--can’t tell you,” she blubbered, rivers of snot dribbling down her chin. “I’m sorry, Owen, please don’t be mad at me!”

He gathered his patience to him like a cloak and said calmly, “Who, Beth? I promise I won’t be mad. Just tell me who did this.”

She covered her eyes with her hands. “Owen, he--he…” She choked on a another sob, and that’s when Owen noticed her skirt; it was torn almost in two, and there was blood splattered near the edge of it.

Swallowing back bile, Owen gritted, “Beth, tell me you weren’t…” God, he couldn’t even say the word. It lodged in his throat like a rock.

“You promised you wouldn’t be mad,” she squeaked, tugging at her hair.

He touched her hands to still them. “I’m not mad, Beth,” he said as softly and evenly as he could. “I just want to know who did this. Can you please tell me?”

With one final, dramatic sob, Beth met his gaze and whispered, “Rush.”

Owen’s world stopped. Just. Stopped. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but stare. There was no way Rush would do this. She was mistaken--she was in shock, confused. She didn’t know what she was saying.

“Beth…you’re…upset. You don’t mean--you can’t mean that Rush…hurt you?” He could hear the pleading tone in his own voice and was powerless to fight it.

But Beth’s eyes turned to flint and she nodded firmly. “Oh, I’m sure, Owen. You think I could forget something like this?”

And he had no choice but to believe her. She was, after all, his little sister.

------

Rush was in bed, trying to sleep, when his cell phone went off. He checked caller id and saw Owen’s name. Smiling, he brought the device to his ear. “Hey, you.”

“Meet me outside your house. Now.”

Rush frowned. Owen didn’t sound like himself at all. Had Beth told him what had happened? If so, he couldn’t see why Owen should be mad at him. Unless…God help him, maybe Owen wasn’t gay--maybe he was a homophobe and--

Stop it, Will. You’re doing it again. No more goddamn paranoia.

He got out of bed and padded down the stairs, not bothering to grab a shirt before heading straight out. He saw Owen almost immediately, and felt his heart stutter. He looked…pissed. Beyond pissed, actually. He looked ready to kill someone.

Concerned, Rush picked up his pace. “Owen, are you--” BAM! Owen’s fist connected with his jaw and sent him reeling.

“You--you asscat!” Owen bellowed, panting, nearly shaking with suppressed rage.

Rush almost laughed, but caught himself. “I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘asshat,’” he told the boy.

Owen’s eyes flashed dangerously. “How could you?” he spat. “I thought--I thought we were friends! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS!?”

Rush stared at him, taken aback. He’d never seen Owen angry before, let alone in a murderous rage. “Owen, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know!” he scoffed, jaw working. “I swear to God, Rush, I’m going to make you pay for touching her. You--”

“WHAT!?” Rush shouted over Owen’s tirade. “Touching who? Jesus, Owen, will you try making some sense?”

“MY SISTER!” Owen roared, face turning beet-red. “YOU ANIMAL! HOW COULD YOU!? I--I L--”

“YOU THINK I FUCKING TOUCHED BETH!?” Rush screamed, his own temper sparking. “YOU DELUSIONAL--”

Again, Owen’s fist crashed into his face, and he stumbled back a step. Enraged, he advanced on Owen. “You think that I…raped…Beth?” he squeezed out through clenched teeth.

“I don’t think it!” Owen cried almost hysterically. “I KNOW it!”

That’s when Rush snapped. His mind exploded into a thousand glass shards and he was on Owen, punching him, hitting him over and over until the pain in his own hands finally stopped him. He left Owen lying on his front lawn, went back into his house, and cried all the way until six in the morning, when the police came to arrest him.

------

PRESENT DAY

^*^*^

Rush stood outside the prison, resisting the desire to turn back and send a wad of spit flying at the asshole who’d ‘escorted’ him off the premises.

He had nowhere to go and no money. His dad was supposed to pick him up, but he stood there for two hours waiting and, unsurprisingly, he never came, so Rush just started walking.

He ended up at his parents’ house. They never locked the front door, so he just waltzed right in and headed straight for his dad’s beer, the beer his dad used to pretend his wife wasn‘t a crazy, heartless bitch. He wanted his mind to be one giant ball of fuzz.

By the time his parents got home, he’d finished his fifth bottle and was draped across the family-room sofa, eyes closed.

“William,” came his father’s timid croak of a voice. “Are you--”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Beatrice Rushford demanded, interrupting her husband.

“Nice to see you, too, ma,” Rush greeted, not opening his eyes.

“Get out. This isn’t your home anymore. You’re a man now and you won’t be mooching off me. Why are you still lying there? Get off your ass right now.”

A hand clamped onto his hair, yanked him painfully off the sofa and onto the floor. Two stabs of pressure, one in his gut, the other near his collarbone, as his mother stepped over his sprawled form as if he were a fucking rug.

He wanted to hit her. He would have, too--but she’d have liked that, being able to send him straight back to prison.

When he opened his eyes, his dad was leaning over him, his expression one of pure agony. He shook his head helplessly. “I’m sorry, Willie,” he whispered.

Right. Of course. Dan Rushford was always sorry--but that never stopped him from letting Beatrice the Bitch run his life.

Rush staggered up to his feet, feeling the floor sway beneath him. “Fuck you, dad,” he slurred. “You’re no better than her.” With that, he stumbled out of the house and into the dark of night, taking two more bottles of beer with him.

-------

Owen stopped for yet another red light, tapping the wheel impatiently. He was tired and just wanted to get back to his dorm. He’d spent the past two hours on the most awkward date of his entire life. Until then, he hadn’t known there was someone in the world more clumsy and socially inept than himself, but Flynn tucker certainly had him beat.

It was stupid, really. He’d only agreed to go out with the guy because of the date. The date as in November 1st. The date he’d been dreading for the past two years: Rush’s release.

When Beth had refused to press charges against Rush, Owen had gone ahead and done so himself, using his bloodied and bruised face and chest as evidence of assault. Rush had pleaded guilty, and Owen sometimes wondered why he hadn’t gotten out on parole--not that he’d wanted him to.

The light turned green and he slammed on the gas, glancing quickly at the dashboard clock. When he looked back up, there was something lying in the middle of the road, something big and human-shaped. He beat the gas, wincing and stopping mere inches short of the shadowy figure.

Luckily, it was late and there weren’t many cars on the road, so he’d been spared the hassle of a collision--though he had a feeling his night was about to turn to crap nonetheless. He was right.

Cautiously, heart racing, Owen got out of his car and approached the body. It was definitely a person. A guy, lying face-up, his eyes wide open. He had a hard, unforgiving face, like carved granite, a long, razor of a nose, and eyes of a frigid, pale blue. His hair was mussed, the color of honeyed walnuts, his skin taught over sharp bones.

Owen stared down at him with no recognition, smelling the waves of booze that wafted off him like cologne. Sickened, he crouched down, shook the guy’s shoulder.

Slate blue eyes flicked to him, dull and lifeless, and Owen felt a pang of…something…in his heart.

The guy’s face seemed to fold in on itself, his brow crinkling along with his nose, his eyes flipping shut. His breathing became labored as his lips pursed, making him appear almost as if he were drowning. When he sneezed, he did so straight up into the air, the whole upper-half of his body juddering like mad.

Owen barely had time to duck out of the way before…

“Htts’tnCHh’uh!--Chuh! Hih’ISH’chuh! Ishhu-ISH-Y’ishh! Hah’HitkCHHOO! CHOO! Unk’TSSHH-ush!--Ippshhu! Nn’Shiiew! NSSHH!” By the time he finished, his face was bright red and he was gasping for a thread of oxygen, his hands clutched to his heaving chest, his eyes glassy and exhausted.

Owen felt a stabbing pain in his gut, because he’d only ever met one person in his entire life who sneezed like he was begging God for mercy: Will Rushford.

------

FYI: In case anyone's wondering, Beth is a L.I.A.R. Just to clear things up. Ahh, the drama.

Edited April 6, 2011 by Scion

[SomethingClever]

Ahhhhhhhhhhh there's another one. Ilove.

[Sneezyhugsandkisses]

ooh me like...and Beth is a total Bitch...o.o

man what a way to break up a friendship...one goes to prison the other thinks the guy's a rapist

bad BETH I wanna sock her in the face!

Anyways good story so far

[sillystarsmoons]

Ohh the drama, oh my wow great start! I can't wait to read more soon?

[Aprilcot]

I already feel sorry for Rush!!!!!!!!!!!

And I think I hate Beth!

I can't comment anymore on this now, other than to say you need to continue this, as I am going crazy once again, needing to know that he's gonna be loved and cared for by Owen.

Brilliant start, as always!

Need more!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Quite Contrary]

Another story already?? How do you crank these things out so fast?? Omg...that BITCH. Also, the picture of Owen is wayyy too cute. I know I said I loved your last story (and I did! ) But...I think I might already love these characters more! I'm sensing some major vulnerabilities for both guys. Yay! That last line was hilarious. Love Rush's sneezes too. Ok...this whole comment is just an incoherent jumble now...oh well. Bottom line: I can't wait to read more!!

[obsessed]

So good! I can't wait for more.

[Ciuty80]

SCION!!!

hey girl, you are FREAKING INSANE!!!

but honestly take this as a compliment!!!

this story is interesting from the very start!!

and i´m sooo excited where you are taking us this time!!

[Scion]

SomethingClever: Yep, haha. Thanks.

Sneezyhugsandkisses: Haha, I agree! Beth is BAD and needs to be punched! And thank you! I'm really glad you like it so far, and I truly appreciate your comment.

sillystarsmoon: Ahh, yes. Drama. What did you expect lol! Thank you!

Aprilcot: Good! That makes me happy (that you already feel sorry for Rush). Hehe, I DEFINITELY hate back! Thank youuu! I appreciate ALL of your comments.

Quite Contrary: Haha, yep. I know, I'm crazy! Hahaha, yes, can you please kill Beth for me? I'd appreciate it. Any yaaay, you like Owen's picture. Ohh, you're already liking these characters?!?! Gah, you make me so happy! I love vulnerable boys. I disagree: your comment wasn't an incoherent jumble haha--it was one of the nicest comments I've ever read!

obsessed: Haha thanks! Happy to hear it.

Ciuty80: I know, it's true! I'm sooo addicted to writing these stories. Can't. Stop. Ever! Glad you like so far. Thank you!

Part Two:

“Ahhh, Owen. What a lovely coincidence,” Rush garbled, his words running together like wet paint. “And aren’t you looking lovely tonight.” He frowned, scratched his chin. “Did I already use the word ‘lovely?’” He gave a loose laugh, head lolling to the side. “Ooops. My mistake. I should really learn to be more original. Less’see, how ‘bout hot, Owen? Mm, nah, thass not right either. You’re looking very…Oweny…tonight,” he said, and burst out into snickers.

Owen just looked at him, wondering how this could possibly be the same Rush he’d looked up to for two years, the guy he’d thought was the epitome of what a man should be. Now, he was just…Owen didn’t know, but seeing the boy he’d once cared so much for like this, lying drunk in the middle of a street, made him sick to his stomach.

“Wh-what are y-you doing here, Rush?” Owen asked, feeling his face flush as he heard himself stammer--something he hadn’t done in a very long time.

Rush roared with what sounded to Owen like the canned laughter of a TV sitcom; chuckles spilled from his lips, but his eyes remained dead, untouchable. “Still stuttering, Owen? I thought you were over that. Get any lasagna shoved down your pants lately, or are college guys too busy getting smashed to bother with you?”

Hurt, Owen glanced at his feet. He wished Rush didn’t have the power to pain him anymore, but, for some reason, he did. Owen tried not to let it show. “You should g-g-get out of the r-road, Rush. You could get r-run over.”

Rush scoffed, emitted a slurping sniff. “Like you care. You think I’m a rapist, remember?”

Owen’s features hardened. “It’s not likely I’d ever forget. How was prison? Anyone try to shunk you?”

“Shank,” Rush corrected irritably. “The fucking word is ‘shank,’ Owen. Jesus, what are you, an old man?”

Don’t show him any weakness, Owen commanded himself. He wanted to get Rush back for being able to get to him even now, wanted to cut him where it hurt. “How about the soap? Anyone drop it?”

Before Owen could react, Rush was on him, grabbing him by the throat and ramming him back against the pavement. But he was drunk and uncoordinated, and Owen was able to dislodge him with a quick knee to the gut. Rush rolled away, crawled a few feet, then commenced puking up a river.

At least he’s out of the street, Owen thought, grossed out.

After staying to make sure Rush didn’t choke on his own yuck, Owen got back into his car and drove away, leaving Rush slumped by the side of the road.

------

Rush pulled out the cell phone he’d stolen from his dad and stared at it until it stopped swishing about and came into a jumbled sort of focus.

The only person he could think to call was Keane. No, they hadn’t really been friends, but…he was the only person Rush could think of who would even consider helping him. Keane was just like that. He and his sugarplum girlfriend wanted to save the word one loser at a time.

Even as wasted as he was, Rush could remember every digit that made up Keane’s cell number--and he’d only used it once. Things were like that for him--all too clear, things he wanted to forget but couldn’t.

It took a while to get his fingers to cooperate, but once they did he got the number punched in and lay back down on the sidewalk, listening to the buzzing in his ear.

“Hello?”

Yep. Definitely Keane’s voice. But now that he was actually faced with the prospect of asking for help, he began to have doubts. What if he’d misjudged Keane? What if Keane hated him like everyone else did? What if--? He cut himself short. He wouldn’t go down that road.

He pulled in a soothing breath and said, “Hey, Keane, it’s…Will Rushford.”

“Will? Hey, I heard you were getting out today. You okay? You need a place to stay or something?”

Rush smiled. Keane was the only person in the world who called him “Will.” Everyone save his parents called him “Rush.” His mom never referred to him by name and his dad either called him “William” or “Willie,” as if he were either really old or still in diapers. He supposed the diapers could apply to both.

“Uh, yeah, man. That would be…good.” God, this felt so…pathetic. He felt like the scum of the earth, the absolute lowest of life-forms.

“No problem. Where are you? I’ll come pick you up. Wait, hold on--yeah, Bren. No, it’s Will Rushford.” A rustling, then: “Sorry about that.”

“No big deal,” Rush replied, words starting to smear together. “I’m, uhhh…” He felt a tightening in his chest, a creeping of fiery needles in his sinuses, and he knew this was going to hurt. He held the phone away from his ear as the breath was knocked clean out of his lungs. “Hip’Gssh’chu!-Isttchu’ish! Heh’ISH’IKSh! EZstChIEEW!-Shhieew! Ut’CHH’y’eesh!-ah’utGCH’hnk!” Rush rested his cheek against the cold ground, trying to scrape in enough air to get in a breath as his head spun dizzily and his throat burned. He’d been right. That had hurt like hell.

“Bless, man.” Keane sounded worried. “You okay?”

Rush thought about lying, then figured fuck it. “Not really. Feel like shit. Got nowhere to go. Owen thinks I raped his sister. My life sucks. I spent the past two years in prison getting the shit beat out of me and--” He stopped himself before he slipped and said too much.

“All right--just…I’m sorry about Owen. He’s smart, but…I think he may be lacking in the common sense area. Listen, just tell me where you are, okay? It’ll all be good.”

Good. Yeah. Sure. But Rush told Keane how to find him and they ended the call with Keane’s pitiful reassurances and Rush’s scoffs of disbelief.

------

Owen had been lying in bed for over an hour, but he just couldn’t fall asleep; he kept seeing Rush’s hard, merciless face in his head. Even now, part of him still held out hope that there’d been a mistake, that Rush hadn’t truly hurt his sister so unforgivably. But after what he’d seen of Rush tonight, he could believe the guy was capable of anything. He’d thought he knew Rush, but he never really did and probably never would.

------

Beth was also in bed, staring up at the ceiling, her chest awash with guilt. She’d been eating less and less as Rush’s release date drew closer, and now she was so thin and so starving she felt half-dead. She knew there was only one way to assuage her conscience, but she was afraid.

She ran her thumb over the screen of her cell, debating. If she told Owen the truth, he’d never forgive her--and she wouldn’t blame him. What she’d done was stupid, cruel; she’d regretted it the moment after she’d done it but had been too chicken to come forth with the truth, and when Owen had started going on about pressing charges, she’d nearly imploded with guilt and regret.

She drew a deep breath. It was now or never.

------

When Owen saw Beth’s name flash across his cell, his first thought was that Rush had somehow gotten to her again--he didn’t have time for a second thought as he slammed the phone to his ear and barked, “Beth? What’s wrong!?”

Her voice wavered slightly as she whispered, “Owen, there’s…something I need to tell you. But before I do I just want you to know that I’m really sorry and I was stupid and I didn’t know what I was doing and if I could take it back I would!”

“Whoa, slow down, Beth. What are you talking about?” Owen’s pulse kicked up its pace, and he sat up in bed, too charged to say horizontal.

“Owen…I…” She swallowed an audible sob, scaring the daylights out of him. “…I lied before…about Rush. He--he didn’t rape me. He never touched me. I was the one who tried to kiss him, but he rejected me. I got mad and…I don’t know, I wanted to get back at him. He only ever wanted you and…if I couldn’t have him I didn’t want you to.”

Owen was silent. He played her words over in his mind, making certain he’d interpreted them correctly. This done, he stared straight ahead at the wall and felt the swell of rage billow up from his toes, roaring through him in a blazing torrent that rocketed up into his skull. “You…lied?” he said slowly, softly.

“I’m sorry!” she cheeped. “Please, Owen--”

“You. Lied,” he repeated, cutting her off.

“YES!” she screeched. “God, Owen, I know it was stupid, but I’m really, really sorry and I promise I’ll never lie to you ever again, just don’t hate me!”

Riding the black waves of fury, Owen blurted out, “I treated Rush like--I sent him to prison for TWO YEARS AND ALL BECAUSE YOU WERE HAVING A TANTRUM!?”

“…Owen…”

His temper sizzled into a knot of deep guilt. “That’s all you have to say? Really, Beth? You ruin a man’s life and that’s all you can say?”

“I’m sorry,” she cried miserably. “I--I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Owen thought about Rush; he’d left him on the side of the road, sauced out of his mind…alone…at night. “I have to go,” he clipped, and hung up.

------

Rush didn’t stand when Keane’s car pulled up to the curb and halted a few feet in front of him. His body felt like jelly, but somehow his back still ached along with his mind. He didn’t have a headache--he had a fucking mindache.

Keane and Brenna spilled out of the car, Brenna at a dead run. She threw herself down next to him and pulled him up into an unexpected hug.

She lessened her hold on him, but didn’t let him go completely, her arms still draped loosely around his back. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me; you just really looked like you needed a hug. God, you look different!”

“Bren…stop assaulting him.” When Keane realized what he’d said, he turned red, spluttering, “Oh--I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean anything by it. I--”

Rush held up a hand, feeling as if his head would detach itself from his body and float away like a balloon. “It’s--okay--hhhshiiiit.” As Brenna looked at him in concern, he whisked his head around, mentally preparing himself for the coming onslaught. “Ihr’TisSh’uh!-Hshh’iTdz’choo! Hih’ISH’umph!-tCHih! ETtSCH’hiDsh!-CHH’hitChh’ISH!” Two lightning snaps of pain arced through his chest as his lungs stuttered, then swelled with blessed oxygen. Without realizing it, he’d drooped against Brenna, wheezing pitifully in a bid for more air; she was stroking his back with gentle fingers.

“Bless you,” Brenna offered.

“Thanks,” he said on a mushy sniffle. “That hurt.”

“I bet,” she returned, smiling crookedly.

Rush tried to stand, swayed dangerously, and was caught by Keane on one side and Brenna on the other.

“You’re drunk,” she chided without heat.

He inched away from her. “Yep. I sure am. It’s the only way to be, you ask me.”

Brenna and Keane exchanged a look, having a conversation with their eyes.

Finally, Keane said, “Let’s just…get you to a bed. I don’t have a roommate, so there’s an empty one that Bren usually takes.”

“Which we totally don’t need,” she whined. “I keep telling you, I’m small enough to squeeze onto your bed with you so we can cuddle.”

Rush pretended to gag, and she swatted his butt. Automatically, he grabbed her wrist and used it to shove her forcefully away from him.

She tripped, almost went down, but caught herself at the last second, her eyes round as quarters.

“Shit,” Rush groaned, reaching for her. “I’m sorry. I just--you can’t come up behind me like that. Ohh, shit.” He let his head plunge into his waiting hands and scrubbed his palms viciously over his face.

“Hey, Will.” Keane squeezed Rush’s shoulder. “Look at me.”

He dreaded the look of hatred he’d see on the guy’s face, but did as he was told and glanced up…into Keane’s calm, understanding eyes; God, those kind eyes were nearly the end for him.

“It’s okay,” Keane told him sincerely. “Don’t go beating yourself up over it. Besides, Brenna can take care of herself.”

For the first time in two years, Rush felt his eyes flood with tears--but he held them back out of habit. “Thanks, Price.”

Keane smiled. “Any time.”

Rush groaned, shoulders slumping. “I have to sneeze again and I’m sure as hell going to fall on my ass when I--I do--Hih’Epshu!” He folded at the waist, staggered, and was kept upright by his two companions. “Hh’Yish’duh!-hipsh’ISH’uh! Ichuh’Nxgsh!-AeeSHH’ktSchh!--SHHH!”

Blinking, Rush swiped a hand over his runny nose, glad this last fit hadn’t lasted quite as long as the others.

“Bless you,” Brenna and Keane said, and ushered him into the car just as his legs said their goodbyes.

-------

[Quite Contrary]

Ok...this story makes me feel mushy, sad, angry, and overwhelmed by adorableness. Why is your writing so AMAZING?? Okay, I though I would like Owen best (because he's a cute little nerd/dork ) but I think maybe I like Rush more. Oh jeez, poor Rush...I don't even have words for how he makes me feel. Someone should hold him very gently for a very long time and make sure he cries as much as he needs to...in the near future, I hope.

[Sneezyhugsandkisses]

AWESOMENESS

poor Rush...I think its kind of obvious what happened to him especially if he went in for rape -hugs Rush...- YOU'll BE okay! ^^ but its good he has Keane and Brenna ^.^ ^(^.^)^

[Tassielli]

I checked here earlier and at midday. How did I miss a new story and an update. What the hell? or maybe I'm just unobservant. Probably that. Anyway great great. I have carpel tunnel from all th typing. I Ned surgery but I'm not goin to stop. I need tintype for school. To comment here. To commen elsewhere. To text. To use YouTube. I'm going to die of boredationidity. Kay. Save meeeeeeeeee. Bye.

[ichixshiro14]

Wahhhhhh!!! The amazing Scion strikes again!!! You're churning these out faster than a milkmaid churns butter! (corny, I know ) This plot is just as good as the others!!! Aargh, I could just glomp you Thanks for coming out with these so quickly, I think I'd go through awesome-withdrawal hahaha Thanks for sharing, can't wait for more!

[Ciuty80]

hrhrhr Keane and Brenna...i know these names!

i LOVE this story!

i ADORE rush´sneezes soooo much!!!

i´m happy about this update!!! soooo CUTE!!!

i´ll be on a trip from tomorrow till sunday and i´m SOOO excited to read the oncoming updates, when i´m back!!!

thank you for writing this amazing story Scion!!!

[obsessed]

Scion, you are on a roll aren't you? OHWAIT, you've probably been on one since you started writing.

Great writing!

[Zane]

I love how amazing your stories are! I mean seriously! they get me hooked on the first part, of pretty much all of them and I just get addicted. and eventually die. It's all your fault! anyway thanks for writing these amazing stories looking forward to more!

[Scion]

Quite Contrary: Awwwwww, thank you so much! Your comment is pure love. *grins* Ohh, yay, you might like Rush more! Hehe, I love Rush. I love nerds and all, but Rush is my baby. When you wrote "Someone should hold him very gently for a very long time and make sure he cries as much as he needs to" I literally almost cried. SOOO SWEET! Love love love. Amazingness.

Sneezyhugsandkisses: Haha, thank you! Yep, it is pretty obvious, I think. Too bad Owen is too naive to realize it...as of yet. Love the comment, by the way!

Tassielli: Hmm, strange. It can be easy to miss things I guess. You have to look really closely. Yep, you definitely need to type. Typing is very important. My life would be...not a life...without it. Don't even BRING UP life without it. Seriously.

ichixshiro14: Yep. I was gone for sooo long! Oh man. I like the analogy. It's pretty accurate. I had to look up the word "glomp" haha, but yes, feel free to glomp me whenever you want. I want to glomp you whenever you comment. Thank you! And I love writing these, so it's not a total hardship...

Ciuty80: Woohoo! You love it! That makes me very happy. Thank YOU!!! Hey, hope you have a safe trip!

obsessed: Hmmm, yep. Probably. Thank you!

Zane: Ahh, I killed you again!? Yay! Muahahaha! Gahhh, your comment made me all: Yep. Pretty much. THANK YOU!!!

Love you guys!

Part Three:

“You wanna take a shower or something?” Keane asked as he, Rush, and Brenna barged into his tiny dorm room.

“Uh…no…” The floor rose up suddenly, stopping just short of ramming him in the face. Hands caught him, pulled him back up, and deposited him on a bed.

“You sure? No offense or anything, but you stink. And wouldn’t a warm shower feel nice after…you know…being in prison?” Brenna asked rather meekly.

Oh, he was sure. He never wanted to take another shower again, if he could help it. “Yeah. Thanks, but…” He felt Keane’s knowing eyes on him, felt his face and neck break out in a cold sweat as shame colored his cheeks.

“Water, then. You definitely need water.” He bent to a mini-fridge and removed a bottle, which he handed to Rush. “You should…probably drink some.”

Rush nodded tiredly; he hadn’t slept right in two years, and sometimes he was just so damned exhausted his body felt like a stone slab. Plus, his back fucking killed and the pain never seemed to fade, even in sleep. Wallowing in self-pity, he sipped from the water-bottle.

“Need anything else? Something to eat, maybe?” Brenna inquired, absently rubbing his shoulder.

“No, thanks. I’m good.” But, Goddammit, he had to sneeze again, and double Goddammit, it was going to take his breath away--and not in a good way. He could already feel his lungs starting to shrivel, his throat to close, his nose to scream with ticklish annoyance that bordered on pain. He scooted back on the bed and propped himself up against the wall, making a pyramid of his hands, which he positioned in front of his face as not to spray half the mattress.

“Ugh’SHhiiew!-Ipsh! Chmpp’yeew! Ksshh! Hik’SHH’ngg!-shhkt! Hah’NTCH’shiu! Igshh-ISH-ugnth! Hehh…ow.” Sucking at the air in the room, Rush slowly slid down the wall until he was lying slumped on his side, his mindache quickly mutating into a headache. “Uh, ‘scuse me,” he said breathlessly.

“Bless you--hey, I have some tissues is my room! I’ll go get them.” Brenna hopped to the door, calling, “Be back in a minute,” over her shoulder as she quit the room.

In her absence, Keane sat down on his own bed and studied Rush speculatively. After a few minutes, he said quietly, “You know…if there’s anything you want to talk about…I’m here. I promise I won’t freak out or anything…” He shifted a little awkwardly, but held Rush’s gaze.

“I thought I was ss’poss’da be the gay one,” he slurred, suddenly so depleted he could no longer keep his eyes open.

Keane cleared his throat. “Um. Yeah, but…just so you know--or you could talk to Bren. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, either, if you’d prefer…”

“It’sss a…nice offer,” Rush murmured drowsily. A beat later, sleep swept over him in a slow, pulsating wave, pulling him down into unconsciousness.

------

Owen drove all the way back to where he’d last seen Rush; when he didn’t find him, he felt a small kernel of fear sprout inside of him. What if Rush had been hurt? What if he’d been run over?

Fingers shaking, he called the Rushfords; Beatrice Rushford picked up, snarled a few obscenities at him, then said she had no idea where ‘that boy’ was but if she had her way he was back in prison where he belonged. Heart sinking, Owen sat there in the middle of the street and wracked his brain for a solution. Where would Rush have gone? He didn’t have many friends, not after what Beth had accused him of…

Then all of a sudden he knew. The one person who could never turn away someone in need: Keane Price. Owen scrolled through his contacts, grateful he’d decided to keep Keane’s number after they’d finished their History project a few months ago.

As the phone started to ring, his nerves rang with it, and sweat started to form on the back of his neck. He owed Rush more than one apology, but he’d never been all that great with words, so he worried he’d come off sounding like an idiot--then again, he’d spent the past two years thinking Rush was a rapist, so he supposed he was already as big of an idiot as he could be.

“Hello?” Keane’s voice whispered in Owen’s ear.

“Um. Hi. K-Keane?” Oh jeez, he was already stuttering!

“Yes…?”

“Um. Yeah. This is Owen McKenzie. I w-w-was wondering if y-you knew where R-Rush w-w-was?”

A pause, then: “Yeah, he’s staying with me.”

When Keane did not elaborate, Owen went on, “Okay, um. Do you th-think I c-c-could t-talk to h-him?”

“He’s asleep,” Keane replied shortly, not sounding at all friendly. “Can I take a message?”

“Oh. W-well, c-can y-you t-t-ell him that I w-want t-to talk to h-h-him?” Owen closed his eyes, knowing he sounded like a halfwit but not able to do anything about it. He was so nervous he thought he might faint.

“Yeah, I’ll tell him,” Keane said frostily. “Anything else?”

“N-no, that’s it,” Owen murmured, ashamed. He knew he didn’t have a right to feel sorry for himself, not with what he’d put Rush through. If he was humiliated, how must Rush have felt?

------

Keane and Brenna were asleep in the other bed, tucked up nice and cozy in each other’s arms. Rush lay alone in his bed, wondering why he didn’t feel more…relieved. He was out of prison…but he wasn’t really free, was he? The only person in the world he cared about thought he was capable of…

Shivering, he sniffled. He doubted it was all that cold in the room, but he was freezing to the core. He thought of Owen as he used to be, before this shit came between them. Owen had been so young and…naïve. He’d obviously looked up to Rush, thought Rush could do no wrong. Now that he thought about it, Rush realized Owen had never really seen him as a person, but as some sort of role model, some sort of heroic figure.

This, more than anything, made him feel empty inside. Owen had never truly loved him. He’d loved the idea of him. Now that Rush was broken, Owen didn’t have any use for him. And…God, that hurt.

Feeling his nose twinge, Rush quickly squished his nostrils together, not wanting to wake anyone up. He turned onto his side, facing the wall. “Mnk’shh’ngt!-Knnch’uu! Hhn’tHH’igt!-MmP’nuh! Hgssht! Iht’hiP-cHH!” When he’d regained his breath, he glanced at the two forms on the other side of the room, checking to make sure they hadn’t woken; they hadn’t.

Rush silently slid from the bed. He’d overheard Keane and Brenna worrying over whether or not Owen would show up at the door demanding to see Rush. He’d got up the courage to ask which room he was in, and they’d reluctantly told him.

He stole into the hall, shutting the door quietly behind him. He strode down the hall, trying to seem confident and tough--then remembered that was no longer necessary; he kept doing it anyway.

When he reached Owen’s door, he stood there staring at it--a second later, it burst open and a half-dressed boy with long, dark hair flew out, speeding into the bathroom a few feet down the hall. As Rush looked after him, the sound of retching bounced off the walls. Definitely not Owen.

He sat down on the floor with his back pressed to the door; just being this close to Owen was enough to make him feel…something. He was still cold, but not as brutally frozen as he’d been before, which was quite an improvement.

------

Owen couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to see Rush. Needed to apologize. To beg for Rush’s forgiveness. He wanted his Rush back. The Rush he looked up to. The Rush that could do no wrong. Slowly, he approached the door, his feet shuffling over the carpet. When he reached the door, he stopped. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t face Rush. He shook his head, angry with himself. He owed Rush an apology and he was going to give him one. Just…not right then. He’d do it in the morning. First thing.

But still, he couldn’t bring himself to return to bed, so he sat in front of the door with his back to the wood, hating himself and his weakness.

He’d just closed his eyes when he heard it: a trembling gasp of breath before… “Ntts’CHH’gkt!-Ugh’shh! Ump’uhh! Nssh’chu!-Hieh’hnk! ExG’isht!-neh!” One very long, very desperate string of sneeze. One very long, very desperate plea to God. And only one person those sneezes could belong to.

Owen hopped to his feet and flung the door open. Rush flopped into the room with a huff of surprise, falling flat on his back and darting his gaze about the room with what looked like fear.

Catching sight of Owen, he sat up with a jolt and barked, “What the hell!?”

Owen just stared down at him, at a loss for what to say. He came up with several long-winded apologies, all of which sounded more like pathetic appeals for forgiveness--because that’s exactly what they were.

Rush glared up at him with an aura of hostility. “Well? Are you going to say anything or just look down on me. Pun goddamn well intended.”

“I--I…I w-wanted t-t-t-to say I’m s-s-sorry,” Owen stammered, wanting to sit down but unable to move his frozen limbs.

Rush lifted a brow. “Oh, you’re sorry? Well, that’s okay, then. All is forgiven. We’ll just put everything behind us. I mean, it’s not as if you sent me to prison for two years and accused me of raping your sister, so it’s all good, right?”

Owen moved his lips, but no sound was imminent. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m s-s-sorry. I th-thought…Beth had b-b-blood on her s-skirt and she was so upset…” Then he put on a frown of his own, saying, “But you did b-beat me up. I d-didn’t make that up! You w-were supposed to be--”

“What?” Rush challenged cruelly. “Your protector? Really? I must have misread the job description. How much were you paying me for this bodyguard duty, again? It seems to have slipped my mind. Oh, hmm. That’s strange.”

Owen didn’t know what to do or say or how to act. He’d never seen Rush so…hard…before., so sarcastic, his tongue like a whip, verbally lashing Owen with poisonous accusations. Accusations. Like Owen saying Rush had… And there was the guilt again, back with a vengeance. Finally, he managed, “Why are you here if you hate me so much?”

Rush laughed without humor. “That is the question, isn’t it? I don’t know. I don’t…” He glanced away, his stony mask slipping. “I…fucking missed you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? You think I’m the scum of the earth and I still can’t stay away from you because apparently I’m a masochist.”

Owen tried not to be wounded by Rush’s words. Rush was right. Maybe Owen didn’t deserve forgiveness. Maybe he’d broken them forever. “Um…I…don’t know what to say,” he admitted.

Rush’s eyes were sad. “I’m still me, Owen.”

Was he? “Okay,” Owen said.

Yawning, Rush dropped back to the carpet, stared up at the ceiling. When the even rise and fall of his chest seemed to slow, then resume in a burst of speed, Owen knew what was about to happen.

Offhandedly, Rush let his palm hover in front of his face as his eyes scrunched shut and his brows knit. His other hand clutched at his chest as though trying to keep it from splitting apart. “Ksh’hih’CHh!-ihzsh! Chshh! Ih’hISH’ieew! Tssh’Upff!-eshh! Huh’PSHH’tChuu!-itsh! Hah’rrshh’hoo!” Groaning, he swiped a hand over his reddened face.

“Bless you,” Owen whispered hesitantly.

Rush looked at him. “Thanks,” he said coolly. He got up and flopped down on Owen’s bed. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

Owen started. Did Rush want him to… Slowly, he walked to the bed and lowered himself down beside Rush.

Rush waited a full five minutes for Owen to touch him, to move closer, to do…anything. But he didn’t. He just lay there stiff and unapproachable, so Rush turned onto his side, away from Owen, feeling the bitter cold return.

“Beth told me what happened,” Owen breathed.

“Oh yeah?” Rush returned.

Owen said nothing.

Put your arms around me, Rush thought. Please, Owen. I need you. Owen, however, could not conceive of that fact that his superhero needed his comfort. No. It was Rush’s job to protect Owen, not the other way around.

And Rush didn’t think that would ever change.

------

Sorry about the long-windedness! It'll get better. Oh, and let me know if I'm putting too much detail in lol. I'm just getting really into the characters. And I love comments, so...

Edited April 8, 2011 by Scion

[Sneezyhugsandkisses]

AWWWWWWWWWWW that's not nice of Owen -shoves Owen out of the bed-

ITS okay Rush I'll comfort you! >]

-hugs-

Love ur story! I think that is soooo cute with Owen and Rush...Rush wanting Owen even so he threw him in jail -hugs Rush- He's sooooo sweet and I am starting to like Owen...but slowly...

I still wanna beat up Beth...^^ even if she is a fictional character.

Once again awesome story! ^^

[Tassielli]

Yeaaaaaa. So I had surgery. I am now rocking the one handed typing. This will be short. AWESOME!

[Butch]

Scion - Not too much detail..not at all...it's all great. Wow.. accusing Rush of rape.. when he didn't do anything to her but reject her...Beth.. wow. and Owen.. yeah I'm a little speechless on this story. I'll think of some REAL comments later.

But still.. love your stories... can't get enough of them.

[ID2006]

JFHHHUIGFGDXEFXHGV.JB... I think you are trying to kill me.

[obsessed]

Scion you are fabulous!

[Scion]

Sneezyhugsandkisses: Hahhahaa, yep, Owen is a very bad boy! I'm really, really, really happy you like Rush hehe. I'm currently mad at Owen, but he's trying. And yes! Beth definitely needs a beating! I love your comments, they're so funny.

Tassielli: One handed typing!? *gasp* The horror!

Mims: Okay, good! Haha, your comment is real enough for me. I appreciate all of your comments. I'm glad you're not getting bored of me! Thank you so much!

ickydog2006: Lol, yep. You caught me! You have unveiled my evil plan.

obsessed: Aww, thank you! So are you.

Part Four:

Rush hadn’t slept. Over the course of the night he’d started to feel progressively worse; his mindache was still present, his stomach was sour, and he knew he smelled like hell. He also really needed to brush his teeth.

Beside him, Owen stirred, forcing open his eyes with a yawn. His sleepy hazel eyes found Rush, drank him in--then slid away.

“Morning,” Rush said, wondering if perhaps Owen would like him better in the daylight, which made no sense but what did he care?

Owen’s nose twitched, but, to his credit, his expression remained neutral as he replied, “M-morning.”

God. Owen had never stuttered around him before. Rush probably made the boy nervous, now that he was a fucking ex-con.

“Lemme guess,” Rush said, raising himself up on one elbow. “I smell like ass. Or you know what, that’s just unfair to donkeys. Let’s just say I smell like shit. That work for you? Or maybe death? Do I smell like death, Owen?”

Owen looked at him as if he’d suddenly morphed into a llama with six heads. “N-no. I d-didn’t say that! You’re p-p-putting words in m-my mouth!”

Rush nodded. “So you don’t mind if I skip the shower today?”

Owen squirmed. “I’m n-not your mother. You d-d-don’t need m-my permission.”

Shrugging, Rush conceded, “Guess not. I think I’ll go brush my teeth. You mind if I borrow your shit?”

Owen shook his head. “N-no. Take whatever you n-need.”

Smirking, Rush leaned in real close to the other boy. “Do I make you nervous, Owen? You afraid I’m gonna sharpen your toothbrush and use it to ‘shunk’ you?” He laughed harshly at Owen’s mortified expression. “You are, aren’t you? You think the slammer turned me into some kind of beast. Well, you’re right.” He staggered out of the bed, turned back to Owen. “You might want to sleep with a pencil under your pillow just in case. Or I suppose you could just use the one between your legs.”

Owen’s face erupted with color. “S-stop it. You’re being a b-b-butt.”

“An ass, Owen. At least learn to use the right nouns, will you?”

Owen closed his mouth, defeated.

------

The first thing Rush noticed when he entered the bathroom was the body on the floor of one of the stalls. The door was wide open, offering a clear view of the sprawled form.

“Hey,” Rush called, edging up behind the guy to shake his shoulder. “You alive?”

The guy was draped over the toilet, his head practically inside the bowl. His long, raven hair gave him away as the guy Rush had seen last night; he must have been Owen’s roommate. The guy groaned, but didn’t move.

Rush squatted down next to him, grabbed his shoulders, and yanked him out of the toilet, propping him up against the stall’s wall. His head lolled to one side. His entire face was caked with some dry and some not-so-dry vomit. Rush got up and returned a few seconds later with a wet paper-towel, which he used to wipe the guy’s wan face. This seemed to wake him up a little, and his eyes cracked open, two leaf-green slits appearing.

“Hi there,” Rush murmured consolingly. “How you feelin’?”

The guy’s cracked lips parted and he cleared his throat. “Like fried crap. Who the fuck are you?”

Rush smiled. “I’m Will Rushford but everyone calls me Rush. You probably know me as the guy who supposedly raped Owen McKenzie’s sister Beth.”

The green eyes opened only to narrow again in suspicion. “Is it true? Did you do it?”

Taken aback, Rush shook his head. No one had ever bothered to ask him that before. “No. Beth’s a liar.”

“And Owen?”

Rush shrugged. “He let me sleep in his bed last night so I assume he’s reconsidered and found me innocent.”

The eyes closed.

“What about you? Got a name?” Rush asked.

“Cam,” the guy rasped…then started to cry. Streamers of tears swept down his ashen cheeks.

Rush frowned. “Need a hug?”

The guy nodded, then said, “Wait, are you serious?”

“I never joke about hugs,” Rush proclaimed.

“Then yes, please.”

Rush opened his arms and when Cam leaned into him, Rush folded him in close, noting how skinny the boy was. After a few minutes, Cam stopped crying. Rush kissed the top of his head.

“You got a boyfriend?” Rush asked.

Cam sniffed. “No. He still thinks he’s straight.”

Rush made a sound of sympathy. “Sucks.”

“Yep.”

“Ugh, I have to get up, buddy. My back’s killing me,” Rush gritted.

Cam nodded, and the two of them helped each other up.

Rush pawed at his nose in a bid to put off the inevitable attack that was coming his way, but to no avail. He turned his back to Cam, braced his hands against the wall, and sloped his neck down so that he was staring at the floor. “Huuuh! Hee’IPSH’uu!-ISH! Hih’AKtch’SHOO!-sHIEW! Id’hfftsh’ah! Het’CHH’kSshh!-RrISH’uu-ItSHH!”

Starved of oxygen, Rush felt his knees wobble, then fold. He slid to the floor in a heap, lungs seizing, mouth gaping open in a failed attempt to steal all the air from the room. Jesus. Jesus. His cellmate would wake up now, would laugh derisively as he came to stand by Rush’s cot, would--Rush whimpered. He couldn’t help it. He was weak. A target. Not a protector. He could never be Owen’s hero.

Arms came around him and he struggled, certain he’d smell Scrope’s foul breath, hear his awful, gravelly voice…

“Hey, Rush? What’s wrong? Rush!?”

He relaxed slightly. That wasn’t Scrope’s voice. It was Cam’s. Those weren’t Scrope’s thickly muscled arms. Those were Cam’s smaller, more graceful ones.

Goddammit.

“Sorry,” Rush croaked. “I was freaking out but I’m done now.” He shuddered, felt Cam’s warm hands begin massaging his neck and shoulders.

“Shit, I love you,” Rush gasped. “That feels so damn good. Don’t ever stop. Just follow me around for the rest of my life doing that.”

Cam rumbled a laugh. “Yeah. Not a chance. Get Owen to do it.”

Not much chance of that, he thought. But maybe if he smelled better, his chances would improve, which meant it was time for a shower.

Fucking. Shit.

------

Owen stepped into the bathroom, towel slung over his shoulder. Some guys were comfortable strolling about in towels; he wasn’t one of them. He heard water running, and felt disappointment blossom. He preferred to be alone when he showered--not that it was a communal shower, but he just felt awkward knowing there was another naked guy standing a few tiles away. Yeah, he knew it was ridiculous, but it’s how he felt.

He hung his towel on the hook and stepped into the shower. He closed the curtain, and was about to start undressing when he heard a strange sound, like a cross between a wheeze and a whimper. Okay, definitely none of his business. He reached to pull his shirt off, but paused…hadn’t Rush said he was going to take a shower? Then that meant…

“Y’izztCHuu!”

Owen flinched.

“Hitt’ssISH’ch!”

Flung open the curtain.

“UkCHink’shah! Hep’UGHth’shih!-iDshh! Huh’ISHUH!-ishchuh! EtsCHH! Hh’Yishduh!-ESSHh!” A groan, then a loud, resounding thump.

Owen called, “Rush!?”

Nothing.

He moved toward the stall opposite him, paused. “Rush?”

Over the stream of water, his ears picked up on a muffled gasp that sounded almost pained. Owen gripped the curtain and jerked it aside, dread making his hands tremble.

Rush was slumped in one corner of the shower, his body cramped into the fetal position, his hands over his head, which was tucked against his chest. His shoulders quaked as he searched for breath.

For a moment, Owen stood there, stunned, disbelieving. This sorry, broken figure couldn’t possibly be his Rush, his strong, invincible Rush. And yet, the honeyed hair was the same, damp now, but recognizable. He couldn’t see the boy’s face, but he could see the curve of his left ear, Rush’s ear.

His legs carried him forward. He flipped off the spray of water, then knelt down beside Rush. Rush. He had to keep reminding himself that this was Rush, not just someone who shared his exact likeness.

Owen reached out a hand, then drew it back. He was lost, clueless. He didn’t know what to do, how to comfort. It had always been Rush who’d comforted Owen, not the other way around. Rush had been strong where Owen had been weak. But now it was Owen’s turn to be strong and he wasn’t sure he could.

A rattling inhale shook Rush’s contorted framed, and he whined softly, pitifully. Owen’s heart compressed; this really hurt, to see Rush like this, a shell of his former self. Stoking up the flames of his courage, he placed his palm on Rush’s back, felt the icy slickness of his skin, felt Rush cringe away from him. He took his hand back, rejected.

“What the hell are you doing!?” a voice demanded from behind him.

Owen jumped, spun about to see Cam looming over him with a stormy expression. “Wh-what?”

“You’re fucking just gonna sit there like a lump?” Cam snarled. “Can’t you see he needs you?”

“H-he d-d-doesn’t need me,” Owen protested thinly. “He’s n-never needed m-me.”

Cam shook his head, scoffing scornfully. “You’re blind, McKenzie. You don’t fucking take him in your arms right now I’m damn well gonna do it myself. God, you’re an idiot.”

Owen squared his shoulders, jealousy sparking. “No,” he said firmly. “You don’t touch him.” Then, determinedly, he framed Rush’s waist between his hands.

Again, Rush flinched away from him, but this time Owen was persistent. Gently, he glided his hands over the wet skin of Rush’s back.

“Rush…it’s…it’s Owen.” Here he paused, unsure of what to say next. “I…I’m not really good at this whole comforting thing, but I wish I were, because there’s nothing more I want to do right now than comfort you. I just don’t know how.”

A tiny scrap of sound. “Hold me, Owen. Please.”

Oh, God…that hurt. Owen’s heart was breaking. He maneuvered one hand to Rush’s chest and carefully tugged him until he was cradled against Owen.

“That’s more like it,” Cam announced, and shoved the curtain closed to give them some privacy.

Owen was slightly grossed out by their unfortunate location, but Rush didn’t seem to notice; he was still wound tight and shivering, held awkwardly in Owen’s arms. Man, he was doing this wrong. He couldn’t even hold someone the right way! He totally sucked as a human being.

“I’m…so…cold,” Rush whispered in a small voice so unlike the Rush Owen knew.

That was the final straw. The tears that had been building finally fell free, and Owen pulled Rush to him, crushing him, smothering him.

“Hxt’uh!” Rush tensed as if expecting Owen to shove him away; Owen did no such thing--he was done with that. “Ichh’eu!-Kshtt! Hah’iGshh!” Rush’s fingers dug into Owen’s back. “Nxg’ICH’iksh!-NdSHH! Hup’tHiss’SHiew! Mb’tchh!-hue!” Muscles liquefying, Rush melted into Owen.

Sifting his fingers through Rush’s matted hair, Owen realized the boy had fallen asleep, his pale face cupped to Owen’s neck.

------

ALSO, I'm taking requests for future stories here: http://www.sneezefetishforum.org/forums/in...showtopic=41140 I'd REALLY appreciate it if you made a request. Don't be shy. It can be pretty much anything, so...pwease?

Edited April 9, 2011 by Scion

[PaperThings]

Wow, I LOVE this! Your characters are wonderful, and I'm such a sucker for angst. Amazing sneezes too, of course .

[Quite Contrary]

Woah! So much to say, where to begin.... Ok, first off, I LOVE Rush He's so sad!! And yay Cam for yelling at Owen to cuddle him! Also, Cam??? Why is he crying? (does he get a story too? Yes, greedy, I know) I really like Owen's stutter, it's just so...so Owen Poor, poor Rush....he needs so much help He makes me want to cry... So yep. Love this story. So much. Just fyi.