Page 53 of Bend Him, Break Him
Colton changed tactics, aiming for a pleading expression, which only managed to force Isaac to turn his gaze elsewhere. A small opening which Colton would exploit.
“Come on.” Colton tapped the black rose flower on Isaac’s forearm. “What’s this one? It’s more than just rainbows.”
He traced his fingers along the stem of the rose, then grazed each scattered petal that was colored in with a different queer flag from gay men to lesbians, to trans people, to bi folks, and so many other identities that Colton had never heard of until regularly attending GSA meetings.
“The rose is me,” Isaac said, ignoring the petals and running his hand along the barbed wire tattoo on his wrist.
It did a lot to cover the scars, unlike his other wrist, which showed the full attempt he’d made after his attack in the custodian’s closet. The pain he struggled with all by himself, thepain he rarely acknowledged, not once since the night he first erupted at Colton about his suffering. Colton swallowed hard, filled with guilt and remorse and a million apologies he didn’t think he was worthy of uttering.
“The barbed wire was a reminder that holding onto people who don’t want you is painful.” Isaac frowned. “Too painful.”
Colton read the text—‘Learn to Thrive Without the Roots’—which was etched within the barbwire tattoo. Isaac never spoke of his family, never spoke of their hometown, pretending the entirety of it never existed as far as he was concerned.
“So, you just wanted a reminder it’s safer to cut yourself off?”
“A reminder it’s not a death sentence to cut yourself loose from someone or something.” Isaac’s blue eyes glossed over for a moment, then he grinned. It was wicked and forced, but Colton smiled back all the same. “The queer shit came later. Jazz found me in our Freshman Seminar class and dragged me to GSA with her, basically holding me hostage until Stockholm kicked in.”
Colton snorted.
“Now, I’m a willing participant in the gay agenda. Damn lesbians.”
That brought a genuine smile out of Isaac. How it comforted Colton to know he found such a wonderful community after escaping their hometown. Colton was grateful for that, grateful that Isaac invited him into this world, allowing him to grow with the GSA members.
“Okay, and the phoenix.” Colton tapped Isaac’s chest, mainly looking for a reason to feel the muscles.
They weren’t massive pecs like Colton’s, but Isaac had a nice build, not that he saw it that way. Whenever Colton would caress Isaac’s body, he’d clam up, then usually toss Colton into a newposition and rail him harder. Now, though, he just accepted Colton’s gentle touch.
“Pretty obvious. I’m a flamer, so…” Isaac pursed his lips teasingly while Colton rolled his eyes. “Okay, but seriously, it’s just a reminder of rebirth and coming back stronger.”
“Kind of like the butterfly.” Colton nodded to Isaac’s hand.
He didn’t need an explanation of the phrase D E A D S O U L across his knuckles or the smiley face on one thumb and frowny face on the other. But the butterfly seemed so bright and cheery compared to so many other tattoos.
“Not rebirth.” Isaac traced his finger over the butterfly’s wings. “Second chances. It’s important everyone gets one.”
“Thank you,” Colton said, unable to hold it back.
“For what?”
“For my second chance.”
“This.” Isaac pointed back and forth between them. “This isn’t a second chance.”
“It kind of is,” Colton scoffed because Isaac was always so damn reluctant to see this arrangement as anything more than sex, no matter how much of himself Colton continued to offer to Isaac.
He’d gladly give him more if he had it. If only Isaac would tell him what he wanted, Colton would do it. He’d make it happen, offer Isaac the world.
“You had your second chance.”
Isaac didn’t need to elaborate any further. Colton’s second chance had come when they first started hooking up, when Isaac looked past the years of bullying and saw the frightened guy in the closet desperate to explain his needs. Colton realized nowthat he’d ruined his second chance and that Isaac was too closed off to offer a third.
“I know I’m a dramatic bitch,” Isaac said, lifting the mood. “But they aren’t all pretentious pieces with deep meanings.”
Isaac gestured to his legs, covered in random cute or silly tattoos. Then he slapped his belly and poked the shark-toothed smile stretched from one end of his stomach to the other.
“I think my favorite rando tattoo you have is the tramp stamp.” Colton giggled.
Isaac plopped forward, lying on his stomach so Colton could see the word TRAMP was boldly written on Isaac’s lower back. The literal tramp stamp always made him smirk.
