Page 9 of Fight for You

My heart squeezed at the nickname, and with the need to explain. My own voice cracked when I replied honestly, “You don’t want me.”

“That’s bullshit.” Mac dropped his eyes and mine followed his glance, until they landed on his shorts; or rather, the thick bulge behind them.

The room spun. My vision blurred. My knees went weak. The only sounds I could hear were the erratic thump of my heart and Troy’s distant call of my name, until even those disappeared.

Troy

Avery swayed on his feet before his knees totally gave way. I caught him by the waist and pulled him onto my lap as I sat on the floor. It wasn’t meant to be a forward or sexual move; I just wanted to support him. And thankfully, my stiffy got the message that I was freaking the freak out, so it disappeared.

“Avery,” I repeated, gently tapping his ultra-pale cheek, but I got no answer. I didn’t know what was happening. I checked his glucose monitor on his hip, but it was quiet, so I didn’t think his blood sugar was the problem.

I gingerly opened one of his eyes with my fingers, and found that it was unfocused and slightly rolled back.Fuck.I’d seen more than one guy knocked out from a fight who looked nearly identical to this. Though that wasn’t the case with Avery, it did give me an idea.

I stood upright, holding his limp body close to mine as I hustled across the gym to the first aid station. I retrieved a pack of smelling salts and cracked it open before holding it a few inches below Avery’s nose. Within a few seconds, his eyes opened and he awoke with a cough.

I sat down once more, cradling him in my arms and trying to ignore how nice his smooth skin felt against mine. This was not the time to notice how perfectly he fit against me.

“It’s okay,” I repeated over and over as I traced my hand up and down his back, feeling the bumpy protrusions of his spine. “I’ve got you.”

We sat like that for a few minutes before Avery pushed off of my lap, taking a seat on the floor next to me. I made sure he could sit upright on his own before removing my hands from his hips.

“Are you okay? It’s not your sugar, is it?” Avery shook his head no, confirming what I already thought. “What do you need? Should I call an ambulance?”

He shook his head again and finally spoke, “No, I’ll be okay.” My heart broke as embarrassment painted his face red. “I’m really sorry about that. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I insisted. I only cared about his well being. “What happened?”

Avery took a deep breath and cast his eyes to the floor. “It wasn’t as bad as what I’ve had before, but…it was a…panic attack.”

I hated that something spooked him so badly that it made him physically ill. I replayed the moment in my head and my stomach sank when I realized the cause; his symptoms started when I drew his attention to my desire for him.

“Avery, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” I wasn’t sure why the sight of my arousal caused him panic, but it didn’t matter; that was never my intention, and I never would have done it on purpose. “You said I didn’t want you, but I was just trying to show you I did. Please forgive me.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he replied quietly before taking a long breath. “There’s something you don’t know about me; somethingno oneknows about me.”

“What is it?” When he didn’t answer, I slowly slid my hand on top of his to offer support. He’d been okay with the contact at dinner, so I was confident it wouldn’t spook him, but I still moved cautiously. “Avery, you can tell me anything. I won’t betray your trust, and talking to someone always helps.”

After another couple of minutes of silence, Avery raised his gaze…to my chin. It was the closest thing he would give to eye contact, and I appreciated it greatly. “I figured out I was gay in my teen years, but I didn’t broadcast it; my stepdad was openly and proudly homophobic, so I thought it was best to keep it to myself so I wouldn’t cause a rift in the family. I figured once I graduated and moved out, I could live my life without worry.”

His story wasn’t over, but I felt compelled to offer, “I’m sorry you went through that. I can’t imagine feeling like I had to hide who I was from my family; that had to be lonely. I came out to my parents in my teen years as well. My mom claimed she already knew, though dad was admittedly confused at first; he didn’t understand how his huge, strong son could be attracted to other men. I think societal expectations had his head all screwed up. But once he got over the shock, he accepted it and we moved on.”

“I’m glad for you,” he replied, finally lifting his eyes to meet mine. The sincerity they held blew me away. Even after whatever he’d been through, he still wanted the best for me, and I was sure for everyone else. His soul was as beautiful as he was.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I felt bad for throwing off the flow of his story.

“No, I’m glad you did; I want you to tell me everything, too.” I gave him a smile and squeezed his hand as he gathered his thoughts and continued, “In my senior year, I got involved with a guy in my grade, Daniel. We kept our relationship secret, but it moved pretty quickly. It turned serious and…sexual.” The last word was accompanied by a pink hue on his cheeks. I gave his fingers another squeeze for support.

“Everything was going great, but apparently I did a terrible job of hiding things from my stepdad. He got suspicious because I was acting ‘too happy’. He went through my phone one night while I was asleep and found messages between me and Daniel, and he completely lost his shit. He was furious; he screamed at me, calling me disgusting and vile names while wishing death and hellfire on me. He said he had to ‘cure’ me; to save me.”

Panic set into my heart wondering what those words meant. There was no positive meaning. Not wanting to interrupt again, I simply gripped his hand and gave him my full attention.

“He said the only way to do it was to ruin me for any other man; to make it where I’d never want another man or anything else inside me again. So, he…” His chest heaved and he swallowed hard. “He got a broom, and…” His eyes filled with tears. “It hurt. I bled and cried…”

“Oh, Avery.” I scooped him into my arms again, holding him tightly against me. He didn't pull away. He buried his face into my neck and sobbed. A few tears escaped down my own cheeks as I imagined the terror and pain he experienced. But they dried quickly, as my sorrow morphed into anger. Nobody deserved what he’d been through, what that monster put him through, but to know that this sweet man whom I was quickly falling for had been hurt so deeply was making my blood boil.

I didn’t want to make Avery more upset, so I tried my best to keep my voice even when I asked, “What’s his name?” I also wanted an address so I could pay him a little visit. I’d rip his head off and shove it uphisass. It was better than he deserved.

Once his sobs slowed, Avery sniffed hard and answered, “Jack, but it doesn’t matter.” Before I could argue that it did to me, he added, “He’s in prison.”

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