Beauty

\"You\'re having lunch with me tomorrow.\"
Connor looked up from where he was curled against Troy\'s side, their naked bodies entwined under the covers of Troy\'s bed. His broken arm was settled gently across Troy\'s chest, still in a cast after two weeks.

\"Okay. Don\'t I usually?\" Connor loved the weekends. He normally came over around 10 AM and spent the majority of the day with Troy.

Troy ruffled his hair playfully. \"Yes, but tomorrow\'s a special lunch. I\'m taking you out on a date.\"

\"Really?\" Connor half-sat up in excitement.

Troy laughed and pulled Connor up to straddle his hips. \"Yes, really. Unless you don\'t want to.\"

Connor mock-pouted as Troy teased him. \"Of course I want to.\"

\"Good. Then it\'s settled.\" Troy\'s hands traced a path from Connor\'s hips down the outside of his legs, pausing to trace the fading outline of a bruise on Connor\'s right thigh. \"Oh, and make sure you wear something slightly dressy.\"

Connor was instantly curious. \"Where are you taking me?\"

Troy sat up then and lifted his thighs so that Connor was cradled against Troy\'s chest. \"You\'ll find out tomorrow.\"

Before Connor could protest, Troy captured Connor\'s mouth with his own and started moving his hips in a way that instantly distracted Connor from other thoughts.

*****

They arrived at the restaurant early; it was either that or be late because Troy couldn\'t keep his hands off his date. Troy had been the one to suggest they leave the apartment and save the sex until after their meal. A valet came to take Troy\'s red Porsche as soon as he pulled up to the ritzy restaurant he\'d chosen to impress Connor. And his boy certainly was impressed, his eyes going wide as he noticed a few big-name Hollywood actors and politicians walking into the restaurant. What Connor didn\'t notice was that they also turned a few heads. They made a striking pair, the famous painter Troy Vaughan and his latest vision of beauty. Connor was dressed in khakis and a blue long-sleeved shirt that went well with Troy\'s own tight black pants and leopard p shi shirt with long brown sleeves. His arm was firmly attached to Connor\'s waist as they followed a waiter to their reserved table, the gesture marking Connor as his alone. Troy caught a photographer taking a picture of them out of the corner of his eye. By tomorrow morning the fashion magazines would probably already have picked apart Connor\'s appearance, trying to figure out what about him had caught the painter\'s eyes.

They were seated at a smallle nle near the back of the restaurant, Troy\'s usual spot, and Troy let his eyes concentrate only on the vision of loveliness seated across from him. He\'d been here enough to know the menu by heart, a quick glance confirming that the wine list hadn\'t changed since his last visit. His eyes caught on a particular red wine that was a favorite of his, and he idly wondered how Connor\'s mouth would taste after the boy had drank some. Smiling to himself, Troy ordered a bottle before the waiter left. Connor\'s eyes bulged and Troy knew he\'d looked at the price for a single bottle of that vintage.

\"Don\'t even think aboue pre prices, get whatever you\'d like.\"

Connor looked up at him in surprise. \"But everything\'s so expensive, I feel bad...\"

Troy smiled gently at him and waved away the other man\'s concerns. He set his closed menu across his plate. \"You\'re forgetting who I am.\" He gave Connor a mischievous smile. \"Or did you think I was bluffing when I said I was a famous painter?\" Connor blushed and Troy continued. \"Besides, I like spending my money on other people, so don\'t worry about it.\"

\"I\'ve never been to a restaurant like this, so I don\'t know what half of these things are. Do you want to order for me?\"

Troy reached across the table to cover Connor\'s hand with his own as he took Connor\'s menus ant itt it with his own. \"Do you like seafood?\"

Connor nodded and Troy made up his mind what to order for the boy. The waiter returned shortly and poured a glass of wine for each of them. He looked at Troy questioningly, waiting for their order.

Troy handed him the menus. \"I\'ll have the eight ounce tenderloin, very rare. He\'ll have the seafood platter.\"

Connor gave him a surprised look as the waiter walked away, probably remembering how expensive those two dishes were. Troy spoke before Connor could protest. \"Your family doesn\'t eat out often?\"

Connor blinked and then shook his head slightly. \"Not since I was a little kid at least. My stepfather doesn\'t like eating out.\"

\"Stepfather? Your parents divorced?\"

Another slight shake. \"No. My father died in a car accident when I was eleven.\"

Troy could tell that the man was well missed. Connor had never mentioned his family much before, and he was curious what kind of people they were. \"What was he like?\"

There was warmth and sadness in Connor\'s voice e spe spoke. \"He was very kind, and nice. He was a lawyer, Duncan Reegan. My mom\'s a shift nurse over at the county hospital. Her maiden name was Lileas O\'Shair but she goes by Lily. They met in Ireland, back when they were both in college. My father was living there at the time, he\'d just finished law school, and they met when my mom was over there visiting her grandparents. My dad always said that he fell in love with my mom when she walked through the door of the pub he was at, sunlight streaming in behind her like she was an angel just stepped down from Heaven. He showed up on her doorstep in America the day after she got back from Ireland and asked her to marry him on the spot.\" Connor seemed very happy when he talked about his parents, his smile lighting up his face. He paused for a moment and a shadow flickered across his face.

\"My mom remarried six years after my father\'s death. My stepfather had a son from a previous marriage, Mark Gardner. He\'s working at the Entrix computing firm in town and goes to night school at the same college I\'m attending. My stepfather\'s an accountant over at Nytel Corporation, Harold Gardner.\"

\"Do you like your stepfather?\"

Connor shrugged with a neutral look on his face. \"He\'s alright.\"

\"So it\'s just you and your parents at home in the evenings?\" Troy\'s questions ha alt alternative motive. Of coure wae wanted to know as much as possible about Connor. But ever since Connor had broken his arm Troy had resolved to find out what had caused the injury and put an end to it. He forced his face to remain smiling as he remembered the mass of bruises that had covered Connor\'s body after the incident. The most vivid image was of the horizontal bruises that had covered Connor\'s back, turning all of the skin there a deep purple overlaid with darker lines. The only time Connor could be receiving the injuries was during the evening. The boy was either at school or with Troy until late in the afternoon everyday, and he\'d mentioned his stepfather not liking Connor going out at night.

Connor nodded in response to Troy\'s question. \"It varies who\'s there from day-to-day though.\" The boy looked a little uncomfortable with Troy\'s line of questioning. \"What about your parents? You\'ve never mentioned them at all.\"

\"They\'re dead.\"

Connor looked at Troy for a moment, speechless. He looked away quickly as he realized he was staring and mumbled an apology. Troy smiled gently and steered the conversation back to Connor\'s life. What he\'d told Connor wasn\'t exactly the truth, but it was what Troy liked to consider as the truth. Forcing his mind to focus on the future, he left the past buried.


*****

Connor hummed quietly as he emptied the dishwasher, pilling the plates he\'d removed from there onto the counter before transporting them to the cupboard. He\'d gotten back from Troy\'s only a few hours ago, and his head was still swimming with pleasure. Their date yesterday had been fun. They\'d actually spent more time simply talking than Connor could recall them ever doing before. Probably because being in public forced Troy to behave more than he did when they were alone. Not that he wanted Troy to behave when they were alone. He quite enjoyed it when Troy didn\'t. The choice of restaurant had impressed him, not because it was such a high-class restaurant, but because Troy had admitted later that it was his favorite. He was touched that Troy had taken him to such a special place. The staff had all known Troy by name, seeming familiar with his presence. He\'d overheard some of them talking when he\'d gone to the restroom, and apparently Connor was the first date Troy had ever bro the there. After he\'d heard that, he\'d started regarding Troy differently. It seemed like Troy was serious about dating Connor. That thought alone brought a smile to his face. He liked Troy, maybe even loved him though it\'d been a long time since Connor had had feelings that deep for another person. Knowing that Troy treated him specially brought him closer to falling in love with the other man.

The sound of a large vehicle pulling into the driveway disturbed Connor\'s thoughts and he hastily went back to putting away the dishes with one hand. He heard the door open and close, footsteps in the hallway signaling that his stepfather had returned from the bar or wherever he had disappeared off to shortly after Connor\'s mother and brother had left the house. Connor fervently hoped his stepfather would ignore him and go to bed. Footsteps on the tiled kitchen floor crushed his hopes and Connor tried to appear engrossed in his task on the chance that his stepfather would ignore him if he was doing something helpful.

\"Care to explain this?\" The demanding tone in his stepfather\'s voice made his head snap up and chills race down his spine. The narrow set of his stepfather\'s eyes and his grim frown were enough to warn Connor that he was in trouble. His stepfather held up the cover of one of the local tabloids, a picture of Troy kissing Connor in the lower left corner with the phrase \'Troy Vaughan\'s Mysterious New Lover?\' in large bold letters right below it. Well, that proved that Troy really was famous if the tabloids were so concerned with his love life.

Connor felt the blood drain from his face and he instinctively took a step backwards. He barely had time to stammer the beginnings of a sentence when his stepfather threw the magazine at him, a quick sidestep the only thing that kept him from being hit in the face with it. Wincing, he realized that was not a good move, as it only served to make his stepfather angrier when he evaded things. Before he had time to react his stepfather grabbed him by the neck, his large fingers digging into Connor\'s skin painfully. A quick, powerful blow to the stomach silenced his attempts at speech as much as the hand around his throat, driving out any air left in his lungs and preventing him from taking in more. He was lifted off his feet so that he was eyelevel with his stepfather.

\"You\'re with him, aren\'t you? Playing the fuck-toy for some rich fag when you know I don\'t approve of that kind of abomination!\" The words were shouted from mere centimeters away from his face, punctuated by a tightening of the grip around his throat and a rough shake. Connor struggled to breathe, the overpowering stench of alcohol and his stepfather\'s blazing eyes telling Connor it would be a long while before his stepfather left him alone.

Black and white checkered tile sped up to meet him just before his head rapped against them, his broken arm blossoming in pain as it was caught between him and the floor. A booted foot connecting with his side sent fireworks exploding in front of his eyes, quickly followed by another kick. Connor whimpered pitifully, curling into a ball around his broken arm with his uninjured arm covering his head as blows rained down on his back and sides. His stepfather was incoherent with rage, spluttered curses falling as heavily as the large man\'s fists and feet. The neighbors surely could hear his stepfather yelling and Connor\'s own cries of pain, but they didn\'t do anything about it. Probably just turned their TVs up and pretended that nothing was happening. Not their business if a man beat his gay stepson. Better to stay out of the affair and avoid the police reports. None of them would even look at Connor when they passed him on the street, he wasn\'t worth their concern.

The torrent of blows stopped almost as abruptly as it started, his stepfather\'s presence suddenly gone from looming over him. Connor stayed where he was huddled on the floor, trembling in fear as he waited for it to start again. Several minutes passed in silence before Connor warily lifted his head from the floor. Seeing that he was alone in the room, he started to pull himself off the floor, using the kitchen counter for support. He wanted to stay curled on the floor until the pain went away, but he knew from experience that he should at least put something on his bruises or he wouldn\'t be able to move tomorrow. He never made it that far though.

Before he could take a step, his stepfather was back in the doorframe. There was something new in his eyes, not the burning anger that spent itself out after a few solid hits, but something deeper. Cold ice bored into Connor from his stepfather\'s eyes and he instantly felt his body go numb in terror. His reaction was pitifully slow as his stepfather lifted him from his feet by the neck, freshly washed dishes crashing to the floor from a sweep of his stepfather\'s arm. Connor didn\'t realize he was in the air until he collided with the opposite wall, his body crumbling to the floor like a broken toy. He felt sluggish, as if the air around him had turned to water. A crashing sound above him was his only warning before shards of broken pottery rained down upon him, a few of the larger pieces drawing blood from where they stuck in his skin. He looked up in time to see his stepfather picking up a large shard of broken plate, eyes glinting cruelly.

\"If you won\'t listen to me, then I\'ll have to fix you.\" Connor hastily forced himself into a standing position as his stepfather took a step forward. \"I\'ll make you stop misbehaving, make you stop being another of those abominations.\"

Connor took one look at the sharp object in his stepfather\'s hands and the murderous glint in his eyes before bolting out the door. Heavy footsteps chased him into the yard, grasping hands brushing against hack ack spurring him into a sudden burst of speed and he didn\'t dare look back to see if he\'d gained any distance on his pursuer. His body protested the movement, but he refused to stop running. He couldn\'t stop running until he reached the only place that meant safety to him.

*****

Troy looked up from the book he was reading as someone started frantically dingding on his door. He was out of his chair in an instant, the peephole in his door giving him a somewhat skewed view of a highly disheveled Connor. His arms were filled with a trembling boyfriend the instant he opened the door, one that clung to him as if he never wanted to let go again. Troy\'s eyes darkened as he saw red handprints on Connor\'s bare neck, but he forced his anger behind a calm mask so that he didn\'t frighten Connor. The other man slumped suddenly in Troy\'s arms and he had to move quickly to catch Connor before he fell.

Troy lifted Connor into his arms, his guts twisting as he saw the streaks of blood that covered Connor\'s face and arms. Locking the door behind him, Troy carried Connor to the couch. Connor’s wide brown eyes never left Troy’s face, his breath coming in labored pants. Leaving Connor on the couch, Troy went to get a bottle of ointment and a wet washcloth from the bathroom. When he returned, Connor was curled in a ball on the couch with his head on his knees. He was still shaking as Troy sat next to him and gently ran his hand through Connor’s hair. A small shard fell out off Connor’s hair and Troy examined it, his eyebrows rising as he noted it was a shard of pottery. Seeing other glints in Connor’s hair, Troy gently picked out the sharp fragments and set them on the coffee table as he waited for Connor to calm down.

His lover slowly uncurled to look at Troy with dead eyes. Troy’s expression was carefully constructed to convey only his concern and none of the anger that boiled inside of him as he carefully cleaned off the blood on Connor’s face. “Want to tell me what happened, darling?” He wasn’t forcing the question. Instead he was gently asking in hopes that Connor wanted to talk about it.

Connor opened his mouth and then closed it, his gaze shifting to the floor next to Troy’s feet. “My stepfather tried to kill me.”

Troy’s hands stilled as he took in the words. His anger blazed and he pulled Connor into his arms, gently holding his trembling lover. “He’s the one who broke your arm?”

A nod against Troy’s shoulder.

“And the one who gave you all those bruises?” Another nod as Connor’s hand grasped the front of Troy’s shirt tightly.

“Why?”

“Because I’m gay.”

Troy pulled away suddenly and stood, pacing the room to help curb his growing anger. Right now, he wanted to go hunt down the bastard that had hurt his lover and beat him senseless. He was beyond mad, he’d passed that when he’d seen the blood. Outraged was gone after Connor had mentioned the attempt on his life. Now he was absolutely furious and now that he had a name to go with he could.... A pitiful, scared whimper from the couch froze him in his tracks and he realized how angry he must look to Connor at the moment.

Troy’s features smoothed back into place in a flash as he eased next to Connor on the couch. His voice lowered to soothing tones as he calmed his lover, whispering reassurances to his trembling boy. He worked Connor’s shirt off, lips moving over Connor’s skin in time to hiavelaveling hands, seeking to comfort and distract instead of their normal goal. Picking up the ointment, he worked it into Connor’s naked skin as gently as he could manage. Connor had drifted off to sleep while Troy worked, and he gently shifted the younger man into bed. He settled beside Connor, fitting the younger man securely in his arms before pulling the covers over them. He didn’t think he’d be able to let Connor out of his arms for a long while. Just before sleep claimed him, an idea came to mind. Troy definitely was not going to let Connor\'s stepfather abuse him any longer.

*****

Connor yawned as he rolled onto his side to wrap his arms around Troy, his mind still caught in the fading remnants of sleep. His arm felrougrough empty air, and he blinked into full consciousness as he realized he was alone in bed. The sheets were still warm next to him and he laid his cheek against them, inhaling Troy’s scent. His left hand absently clutched the sheets and he considered going back to sleep. His body more than welcomed the idea. He didn’t want to face the waking world. He wanted to stay in bed where there was only Troy and himself and he didn’t have to worry about anything.

Light streamed in from the open window, a quick glance at the clock confirming that it was nearly noon. He’d missed his morning English class and his American History course. If he hurried he could probably make it to his English recitation and hand in the paper that was due today. But that would mean going back to his house for his schoolbooks... Connor shivered. He didn’t think he’d be able to go back there for a while, he was too terrified. His mom must be worried, unless his stepfather had made up some excuse why Connor’s belongings were there and he wasn’t.

Connor forced himself to get out of bed, at least to see if Troy was still in the apartment. He found his clothes folded neatly beside the bed and he dressed quickly. From the corner of his eye Connor caught his reflection in the large mirror across from Troy’s bed. He turned, half wondering if the person reflected was actually him. Red lines were scattered across his face, his neck a deep purple where his father had grabbed him. As he buttoned up his shirt one-handed he could see more bruises along his chest. He could feel others all over his body, points of dull aches that made moving a chore. Shuddering, Connor turned his back to the mirror and shut-out his memories of the previous night. Despite his attempts, he could still faintly hear his father’s voice yelling at him in the back of his head.

Troy wasn’t in the living room when Connor stepped out of the bedroom, nor in the open kitchen across from the bedroom. Hesitantly, Connor knocked on the door to Troy’s studio. He’d only been in there once before, very briefly. After a moment with no answer, Connor pushed the door open and flicked on the lights. Paintings leaned against the wall and stood on easels, a few choice pieces hanging on the walls. Connor glanced around the room quickly, but Troy wasn’t here either. Connor was about to leave when he noticed that the paintings on the walls had changed. When he’d been in here over a month ago, the paintings had been of Troy’s old models, never more than one painting of each person. Now almost all the paintings featured a single person: him. Connor took a hesitant step rds rds the left wall, the one that had been set aside as a display of Troy’s favorite works. In the center of the display was one of Troy’s most recent paintings, made the day Connor had broken his arm. A small piece of paper on the wall below it gave the date and a title: “Sleeping Beauty”.

Connor smiled as he left the studio. He’d been happy that day, he remembered it clearly. He’d been so worried that Troy wouldn’t want him after they’d had sex but his fears were groundless. Troy cared about him, more than Connor had ever expected him to. And he loved Troy because Troy cared about him, because Troy was nice to him, because Troy made him feel good, because Troy paid attention to him.... He’d been terrified, mindless, last night, and the only place he had thought to go was Troy’s apartment. Because he’d known he’d be safe here, that Troy would help him when he didn’t even know what could be done to help himself.

Connor slumped to the couch and pulled a blanket off the back to cover himself. It was lonely in the apartment without Troy there. It felt too empty. He shivered with cold and wished he had another body next to his to warm him up.

*****

Troy unlocked the door to his apartment, fully expecting Connor to still be in bed. A smile slipped across his face as he saw his lover\'s form curled on the couch, fast asleep. Walking over quietly, he lightly called Connor\'s name as he gently shook his lover awake. Co bli blinked at him sleepily for a moment before his eyes focused on the two men waiting in the doorway.

\"Get up sweetheart, we\'re going to get your stuff.\"

\"Huh?\" Connor gave Troy a confused look as he sat up, his sleepy mind not grasping what Troy was talking about.

With gentle patience Troy repeated his words. \"I need you to get up so Dallas, Cameron, and I can go get your belongings from your house and bring them back here.\"

Chocolate eyes widenn shn shock as Connor fully sat up. \"But...\"

Troy put a finger over Connor\'s lips to stop him from protesting. \"You\'re moving in with me. Don\'t argue, because it\'s already been decided. I won\'t let you stay in your stepfather\'s house anymore.\" Troy pulled Connor close and whispered fiercely in his ear. \"I won\'t let him hurt you ever again.\"

A mix of emotions clouded Connor\'s eyes and he hugged Troy tightly, his head buried in Troy\'s shoulder. \"Thank you.\"

Troy returned the embrace for a moment before standing once more, drawing Connor up with him. \"Let\'s go.\"

Connor followed the other men out of Troy\'s apartment.

*****

Troy looked at the tiny house Connor guided them to with a bit of amazement. It seemed like a quaint little house, separated from its neighbors by a small, well-kept lawn. Troy glanced at the houses on either side and wondered what kind of people lived there, wondered what kind of people could stand hng ang a boy being beaten and do nothing about it. Better for them that Troy didn\'t know the answer, they were safer that way.

Troy walked beside Connor as they approached the house, Cameron and Dallas directly behind them with a stack of empty boxes. Connor looked at the door as if he\'d never seen it before, a hint of fear in his eyes. Troy touched Connor\'s shoulder, the move seeming to jolt the boy out of his daze. He reached into his pockets, looking for thinthing that didn\'t seem to be there.

\"I forgot my key...\" Connor looked at him apologetically. \"When I ran out last night. There should be a spare key around here somewhere.\"

Troy didn\'t wait for Connor to look, he simply knocked loudly on the door. A middle-aged woman answered the door, looking quite surprised at seeing her son and three other men standing before her.

\"Is your husband here?\" Troy\'s tone was flat, emotionless.

Connor\'s mother, Troy remembered her name was Lily after a moment, shook her head. \"No, he\'s at work.\"

Troy stepped into the house silently, pulling Connor with him. Connor was surprisingly docile and followed him easily, his head downcast to avoid meeting his mother\'s gaze.

\"Connor, why don\'t you show Cameron and Dallas where your room is so they can start getting your things.\" Connor looked at Troy once before nodding and walking upstairs, his movements stiff from his bruises. Troy stayed behind with Connor\'s mother as his friends followed Connor.

\"What\'s going on?\" Connor\'s mother seemed to suddenly recover her wits and she looked between Troy and Connor in shock. Connor had half-turned at the top of the stairs but Troy motioned for him to keep going. He waited until Connor was out of sight before he started speaking, his eyes shifting to pierce Connor\'s mother with a hard glare.

\"Your husband tried to kill Connor last night. I\'m Troy Vaughan, Connor\'s boyfriend. He\'s moving in with me on my insistence.\"

Lily\'s eyes widened and she brought a hand to her mouth. She seemed almost on the verge of running up the stairs after her son. \"Is he alright? Did he get hurt?\"

Troy let his gaze soften in the face of the woman\'s concern. \"He\'s alright. He just has a few scratches and bruises.\" She seemed relieved at that, but her reactions weren\'t at all what he\'d expected. \"You don\'t seemed surprised by what happened.\"

Connor\'s mother fixed Troy with a level gaze. \"I\'ve worked at the hospital long enough to know signs of abuse when I see them. Connor wouldn\'t tell me anything, so I didn\'t know if it was from home, school, or elsewhere. I never though Harold would...\" Connor\'s mother drifted into silence for several moments. Troy could hear Connor talking to Cameron and Dallas upstairs, their words too faded to make out.

\"I\'m Lily Gardner, by the way.\" She held out her hand and Troy shook it lightly before speaking.

\"Connor\'s mentioned you before.\"

Lily nodded and turned to walk into the kitchen, motioning for Troy to follow her. Troy\'s eyes fell on a photo framed and hung on the wall as he followed Connor\'s mother. Both a young and an older man were present in the photo beside Connor and his mother, all of them smiling so happily that it was hard to tell they weren\'t a normal, happy family. As he walked into the kitchen, the first thing he noticed was a broken dish on the counter. Shards of broken pottery filled a small bucket by a screen door on the other side of the room. Troy thought he saw flecks of red on the shards, but it could have just been a design on the plates.

Connor\'s mother turned from the counter to hand Troy a piece of paper. \"That contains the address of where I work and our home address in case you don\'t already have it, as well as the numbers to reach me at both places. The last number is my pager, for emergencies.\"

Troy tucked the paper carefully into his pocket. Reaching out, he took that pen and pad of paper that she had just used to write the note. Scribbling his address and phone number, he handed it back to her. \"Here\'s where you\'ll be able to reach Connor. Feel free to stop by anytime, without your husband.\"

Lily nodded. \"Take care of my son.\"

\"I will.\"

A knock on the wall interrupted them a few moments later. Troy turned to seen Connor standing there, looking a bit pale. Troy followed the boy\'s frozen gaze to the broken plate and he stepped forward to break the connection, placing his hand gently on Connor\'s shoulder.

\"They\'re done packing my things.\" Connor announced quietly.

Troy nodded and squeezed Connor\'s shoulder gently before stepping past the boy to start up the steps. \"I\'ll go help Cameron and Dallas take your stuff to the van.\"

Troy took another look at the picture of Connor\'s stepfather as he moved, storing the man\'s face in memory.

*****

Connor looked at his mother nervously, unsure what to say. But his mother had always understood Connor better than he did himself. She opened her arms and Connor found himself stepping forward automatically. He felt like he should be crying, but his eyes were dry. His body had long ago forgotten how to cry.

\"I\'m sorry.\" Connor knew it was stupid to apologize but he couldn\'t help himself. He felt like it was his fault that this was happening, his fault for breaking apart the family like this, his fault for being gay.

\"It\'s not your fault. You didn\'t do anything wrong, honey. Nothing at all. It\'s okay.\" The words were whispered softly in Connor\'s ear as his mother brushed a hand through his hair, a gesture that had always comforted him. \"It\'s not your fault.\"

\"But I ruined it.\" Connor\'s voice cracked as he spoke. \"I ruined your new marriage by being gay.\"

Connor was surprised at the strength in his mother\'s hands as she lifted headhead to face her. \"Don’t ever say that, Connor. Don\'t even think it. There\'s nothing wrong with being gay. You didn\'t ruin anything. This is all Harold\'s fault for treating you like this, and my fault for not seeing it.\"

\"But I lied to you about it, you didn\'t know.\"

Lily placed a light kiss on her son\'s forehead. \"I knew something was wrong, but I wasn\'t sure what.\" She sighed. \"But placing b won won\'t do us any good right now. All that matters is that you\'re alright and that you\'ll be safe with Mr. Vaughan.\"

They stood there quietly for a few moments, just holding each other. \"Do you love him?\"

Connor nodded against his mother\'s shoulder.

\"And he\'s a good man?\"

\"He is.\"

\"Then I\'m happy for you two. I wish you nothing but the best of happiness.\"

Connor blushed slightly. His eyes caught on the broken plates and he felt his smile fade. \"What about you? What\'s going to happen?\"

\"Do you want me to press charges against Harold?\"

Connor took a step back in horror. \"No!\" He didn\'t want to break up his mom\'s new marriage, not when she\'d been so happy.

Lily nodded, accepting her son\'s decision. \"Harold and I need to have a long talk when he gets back. Depending on the answers he gives me, I may file for divorce.\"

\"But you can\'t... you were so happy. I didn\'t tell you what was going on because I didn\'t want to ruin your marriage.\"

Lily lher her hand gently on the side of Connor\'s face. \"Harold and I have been having problems for a while now, dear. I was happy because I thought you were happy, because you tried so hard to make sure I was happy. His problems with you are a big problem but they\'re not the only problem. You were my son long before I met him, and you\'ll always come first.\"

Connor didn\'t know how to respond so he simply nodded, a lump in his throat. His mother smiled at him before nodding towards the other room. \"I\'ll be fine. Your friends are waiting.\"

Connor turned to see Troy watching from the doorway. He hugged his mom tightly, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before whispering in her ear. \"I love you, mom.\"

\"I love you too, Connor.\"

Connor stepped away slowly and followed Troy out of the house without a backwards glance.

*****

\"Excuse me, are you Harold Gardner?\"

The man nodded as he stopped on the sidewalk in front of Nytel Corporation. He looked like an average businessman, with a smiley-face tie and slicked-back blonde hair. He wore a light tan suit, dark brown briefcase in one hand, and a cup of overpriced coffee in the other. He was the kind of man you expected to find with a smiling housewife, 2.5 perfectly average kids, and a dog named Spot. Troy pulled off his sunglasses and pocketed them, wondering how many of the \'normal\' people who walked past him were as sick as the man in front of him.

\"How can I help you?\"

Troy smiled with false cheer. \"My name\'s Troy Vaughan. I\'m Connor\'s boyfriend.\"

The man\'s eyes widened seconds before Troy punched him in the face with as much force as he could muster. Papers scattered as Mr. Gardner\'s briefcase flew open, thrown from his hand as he hit the pavement. The scent of hazelnut from the man\'s spilled coffee filled the air and blood flowed from the older man\'s nose as he looked up at Troy in shock. Troy gave the startled man a furious glare, his eyes daring the other man to get up and hit back.

\"If you ever touch Connor again, I swear I\'ll kill you.\" The cold in Troy\'s eyes and voice left no doubt that he would follow through with his threat. He held his glare a second longer before he turned and walked away, slipping his sunglasses back onto his face as he went.

*****

Connor smiled as he unlocked the door to see Troy in his studio, working on a painting. He quietly set his backpack on the floor and turned to hang up his coat. Two arms soon found their way around his waist and Connor leaned into the touch, his eyes drifting shut as he did so.

\"Welcome home, my beautiful one,\" Troy whispered the words into Connor\'s neck as he kissed the flesh there. Connor smiled. It was good to be home.