Coming Home
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
11,510
Reviews:
66
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
11,510
Reviews:
66
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
What Have You Done?
Songs for this chapter:
Say (All I Need) by OneRepublic
Holy Water by Big and Rich
Remember Everything by Five Finger Death Punch
What Have You Done? by Within Temptation
Responses to my awesome reviewers who are the best in the whole wide world can be found at http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/50866-reviews-for-coming-home/?p=333368 Even if you haven't reviewed please take a moment to check them out as it does contain some information pertaining to the story and updates.
Present Day
Dylan’s eyes popped open at 5:45 a.m. For a moment, he had to fight the disorientation of not waking up in his own bed. Then the last two days filtered back in and his heart sank again. Here in the darkness with nothing to occupy his mind but his fears his brain turned to the one question he’d been trying to avoid. What if Nathan is living there? Dylan knew better than to hope for anything when it came to Nathan. Really when it came to anything he wanted.
Getting up and getting ready for the day was a surreal experience. What do you wear as a “come back” outfit? Why did he even care? Dylan couldn’t explain it, but, if he was honest with himself, there was this anxious need to prove he was doing better than when he’d left. He didn’t really have to do it, but he was compelled by years of insecurity. Life had taught him to go past them even if they weren’t resolved. But at this particular moment six years worth of compartmentalization crumbled away and left a bewildered Dylan lost in a sea of confusion that enveloped him with strong arms.
-
Pulling into the parking lot of Bison Valley Medical Center, Dylan dimly noted that things sure had changed around here. It was sleek and shedding it’s antiquated feel. He supposed it should have comforted him knowing his father was in the hands of such a progressive facility, but he really didn’t care about that. He wasn’t back for his father. He was back to learn the secret of this long lost brother. Somewhere, he reminded himself this could be some sick joke from his Uncle Riley to get what he wanted from Dylan. It wouldn’t be the first time that his father or uncle had manipulated him and unfortunately it wouldn’t be the first time Dylan had fallen for it.
He walked to the front receiving desk and asked for Darryl McNamara. He walked to the elevators and hit the up button. All the nerves were tangling in his stomach and he felt a little nauseous. He tried to remind himself it wouldn’t do to think of the last time he’d seen his father. He tried. He failed. As the doors slid closed, the memory engulfed him and he felt the pain as if he was in the moment.
Six Years Ago
Dylan stumbled in at midnight. God he was exhausted. Working at the Sagebrush Saloon after school was rough and tiring. Brian Green was an asshole through and through and waiting tables in the top restaurant in town was not an easy task by any means. As the owner for the past fourteen years, Brian had grown an ego to suit a self made millionaire. He was condescending and a bully. Intelligent and belligerent.
Dropping his apron on the kitchen table he opened the fridge and picked out some cranberry juice. It was the perfect combination of sweet and tart and it would do the job of getting the taste of Brian out of his mouth. Brian pretty much thought that any piece of ass, regardless of age or gender, that struck his fancy and worked in his establishment was free game for him. The turnover in his restaurant among his wait staff was solely due to that reason alone. And his eye had settled on Dylan.
It didn’t matter that Dylan was only 16. Nothing stood in Brian’s way when he wanted something. Dylan knew because Brian had said so when he’d cornered Dylan in the stairwell. He’d pushed Dylan against the wall and caged him with his thick meaty sweaty and disgustingly hairy arms. Dylan had immediately wanted to vomit. He almost did in the middle of the kitchen as he thought of how those big lips had pressed against his and he swore he could still feel the wiry mustache scraping his skin.
He could smell the rum on Brian’s breath. It was beyond gross and so incredibly frightening for Dylan. He could see in that moment the truth of the matter. If Brian wanted, he could take Dylan right then and there and there would be nothing Dylan could do to stop him. That fear took a few seconds to jump around Dylan’s brain before setting his heart rate into overdrive. He flipped out. Kicking and screaming and pushing against the thick body of Brian he tried to get away. He knew from the way Brian had sharply drawn back that he’d surprised him. Hell, he’d surprised himself by his strength. Now in the comfort of his own home, he couldn’t feel sorry for how he responded. He’d reacted to a very real and present danger.
Brian had at first had fought back. His knee had pressed in between Dylan’s legs as he tried to grind against him in an effort to illicit a reaction from Dylan’s cock. But it had remained stubbornly soft. Once Dylan’s tears had started, Brian drew back in disgust. Thankfully! Then he’d tried to calm him down. Shushing him and then when Dylan wouldn’t stop yelling at him he’d shoved him hard against the wall and clamped his hand down over Dylan’s mouth. Dylan knew without a doubt that Brian’s crushing grip on his mouth would leave finger shaped bruises on his skin. It was when air was getting difficult to draw in that he’d stopped. Leaning in closely Brian whispered quietly but with a sickening angry edge, “Shut the fuck up Dylan. If any hears you I’ll kill you.”
He’d pulled back to look in Dylan’s eyes to see if his message got through. Dylan had been fighting back sobs and tried to plead with Brian with his eyes that he’d shut up. He wouldn’t say anything, if only Brian would let him go. His fight seemed to go out of him but in his mind he was just repeating one phrase. “Never again. I refuse to ever feel this way again.”
Reassured Dylan wouldn’t make any more noise, Brian had let his hand drop. Looking still into Dylan’s eyes with pure unadulterated anger, he’d said the last words Dylan would ever hear from the man.
“You won’t tell anyone about this. No one would believe you anyways. I want you to get out and think about whether you want to come back or not. If you can’t take the heat from my kitchen then stay the fuck out. But if you think you can handle it, you come see me first. Either way, you keep your trap shut, understand?”
Nodding in agreement, and more than eager to get the hell out that hell hole, Dylan had scrambled away and rushed out the door before Brian changed his mind. He was in a daze coming home. He didn’t even stop to really think about what had just happened until he was standing in the middle of his kitchen drinking a glass of cranberry juice and tears making their way down his reddened face. He could’ve been raped. At the minimum he’d been sexually harassed and basically fired because what? He wouldn’t sleep with his boss?
Still reeling, Dylan didn’t hear his father enter the kitchen with the portable house phone in his hands. Leaning against the counter, he waited for Dylan to acknowledge him. It wasn’t happening as Dylan was lost in thought so Darryl had cleared his throat. Startled Dylan had whirled to him with fear in his eyes. It only marginally eased when he saw it was his father. The expression on his face was unreadable though.
“Dad?”
“I just got off the phone with Brian Green. He told me what happened. Did you think I wouldn’t find out what you did?” he asked softly.
“Wh- What? What I did?”
“Yeah, Dylan. What you fucking did.” Darryl’s voice was rising in anger.
“I didn’t DO anything, Dad. I don’t know what Brian told you, but he-”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. God, he said you’d try and turn it on him. He’s no fucking faggot Dylan! You came on to him and he turned you down you!”
Dylan just stood there stunned. This could not be happening. This wasn’t real. His eyes darted around the room trying to focus on something to ground him. His gaze landed on Darryl’s face contorted with anger and disgust. In that split second, he wanted nothing more than to have Nathan by his side to hold him, protect him, to tell him like he’d done when Dylan was young that everything would be ok. But Nathan wasn’t here. No, right now he was all alone and that was so heartbreaking; more so than facing his father’s hatred and bigotry.
“I want you gone. I will not have some aggressive faggot in my home. You have one week to get the hell out of my house. Once you‘re gone, don‘t come back. I told you once, Dylan. And you still disobeyed me. If this is how you choose to be then get this through your thick fucking skull. You. Are. Not. My. Son.”
With those parting words Darryl turned from his now disowned son, with more tears streaming down his young scared face, and went to bed where he promptly fell asleep.
Dylan gathered all his things that he could fit in his car and still leave a sleeping space for himself and left that night. As he fell asleep, he thought not of sexual assault or hatred or prejudice. He wrapped himself in a blanket in the back seat of his car and, as he cried himself into a restless doze, he thought only of Nathan and how much he missed him.
Present Day
The doors opened and Dylan stepped out into a deserted hallway. It was quiet and cold and it smelled funny. He still kept his eyes cast downward because should anyone walk by they would see the pain of a boy forced to grow up too soon and without enough love.
Dylan pushed the familiar pain aside for the moment. He was rarely weak around another person. It took vast amounts of trust that he did not develop easily for him to even consider being vulnerable with someone. There was really only two people he’d ever done that way. One was because they’d just happen to be there at a moment where life had just gotten to hard. He’d broken down, but it wasn’t on purpose and he was grateful for the new confidant it had afforded him. The only other person was one Nathan Taylor, Junior.
He stopped in front of room 715. Written on a plastic placard was Darryl McNamara. Seeing it was oddly surprising for Dylan. He rarely thought of his father so to see even just his name in writing, just out there as if it was normal for him to encounter, was discomfiting and strangely foreboding. He took a shaky breath in. He couldn’t even give himself a pep talk. What was there to say? The only thought that fleetingly passed through his mind was I should’ve just hung up. But by then his hand was pushing open the heavy hospital door and he was walking in.
Say (All I Need) by OneRepublic
Holy Water by Big and Rich
Remember Everything by Five Finger Death Punch
What Have You Done? by Within Temptation
Responses to my awesome reviewers who are the best in the whole wide world can be found at http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/50866-reviews-for-coming-home/?p=333368 Even if you haven't reviewed please take a moment to check them out as it does contain some information pertaining to the story and updates.
Present Day
Dylan’s eyes popped open at 5:45 a.m. For a moment, he had to fight the disorientation of not waking up in his own bed. Then the last two days filtered back in and his heart sank again. Here in the darkness with nothing to occupy his mind but his fears his brain turned to the one question he’d been trying to avoid. What if Nathan is living there? Dylan knew better than to hope for anything when it came to Nathan. Really when it came to anything he wanted.
Getting up and getting ready for the day was a surreal experience. What do you wear as a “come back” outfit? Why did he even care? Dylan couldn’t explain it, but, if he was honest with himself, there was this anxious need to prove he was doing better than when he’d left. He didn’t really have to do it, but he was compelled by years of insecurity. Life had taught him to go past them even if they weren’t resolved. But at this particular moment six years worth of compartmentalization crumbled away and left a bewildered Dylan lost in a sea of confusion that enveloped him with strong arms.
-
Pulling into the parking lot of Bison Valley Medical Center, Dylan dimly noted that things sure had changed around here. It was sleek and shedding it’s antiquated feel. He supposed it should have comforted him knowing his father was in the hands of such a progressive facility, but he really didn’t care about that. He wasn’t back for his father. He was back to learn the secret of this long lost brother. Somewhere, he reminded himself this could be some sick joke from his Uncle Riley to get what he wanted from Dylan. It wouldn’t be the first time that his father or uncle had manipulated him and unfortunately it wouldn’t be the first time Dylan had fallen for it.
He walked to the front receiving desk and asked for Darryl McNamara. He walked to the elevators and hit the up button. All the nerves were tangling in his stomach and he felt a little nauseous. He tried to remind himself it wouldn’t do to think of the last time he’d seen his father. He tried. He failed. As the doors slid closed, the memory engulfed him and he felt the pain as if he was in the moment.
Six Years Ago
Dylan stumbled in at midnight. God he was exhausted. Working at the Sagebrush Saloon after school was rough and tiring. Brian Green was an asshole through and through and waiting tables in the top restaurant in town was not an easy task by any means. As the owner for the past fourteen years, Brian had grown an ego to suit a self made millionaire. He was condescending and a bully. Intelligent and belligerent.
Dropping his apron on the kitchen table he opened the fridge and picked out some cranberry juice. It was the perfect combination of sweet and tart and it would do the job of getting the taste of Brian out of his mouth. Brian pretty much thought that any piece of ass, regardless of age or gender, that struck his fancy and worked in his establishment was free game for him. The turnover in his restaurant among his wait staff was solely due to that reason alone. And his eye had settled on Dylan.
It didn’t matter that Dylan was only 16. Nothing stood in Brian’s way when he wanted something. Dylan knew because Brian had said so when he’d cornered Dylan in the stairwell. He’d pushed Dylan against the wall and caged him with his thick meaty sweaty and disgustingly hairy arms. Dylan had immediately wanted to vomit. He almost did in the middle of the kitchen as he thought of how those big lips had pressed against his and he swore he could still feel the wiry mustache scraping his skin.
He could smell the rum on Brian’s breath. It was beyond gross and so incredibly frightening for Dylan. He could see in that moment the truth of the matter. If Brian wanted, he could take Dylan right then and there and there would be nothing Dylan could do to stop him. That fear took a few seconds to jump around Dylan’s brain before setting his heart rate into overdrive. He flipped out. Kicking and screaming and pushing against the thick body of Brian he tried to get away. He knew from the way Brian had sharply drawn back that he’d surprised him. Hell, he’d surprised himself by his strength. Now in the comfort of his own home, he couldn’t feel sorry for how he responded. He’d reacted to a very real and present danger.
Brian had at first had fought back. His knee had pressed in between Dylan’s legs as he tried to grind against him in an effort to illicit a reaction from Dylan’s cock. But it had remained stubbornly soft. Once Dylan’s tears had started, Brian drew back in disgust. Thankfully! Then he’d tried to calm him down. Shushing him and then when Dylan wouldn’t stop yelling at him he’d shoved him hard against the wall and clamped his hand down over Dylan’s mouth. Dylan knew without a doubt that Brian’s crushing grip on his mouth would leave finger shaped bruises on his skin. It was when air was getting difficult to draw in that he’d stopped. Leaning in closely Brian whispered quietly but with a sickening angry edge, “Shut the fuck up Dylan. If any hears you I’ll kill you.”
He’d pulled back to look in Dylan’s eyes to see if his message got through. Dylan had been fighting back sobs and tried to plead with Brian with his eyes that he’d shut up. He wouldn’t say anything, if only Brian would let him go. His fight seemed to go out of him but in his mind he was just repeating one phrase. “Never again. I refuse to ever feel this way again.”
Reassured Dylan wouldn’t make any more noise, Brian had let his hand drop. Looking still into Dylan’s eyes with pure unadulterated anger, he’d said the last words Dylan would ever hear from the man.
“You won’t tell anyone about this. No one would believe you anyways. I want you to get out and think about whether you want to come back or not. If you can’t take the heat from my kitchen then stay the fuck out. But if you think you can handle it, you come see me first. Either way, you keep your trap shut, understand?”
Nodding in agreement, and more than eager to get the hell out that hell hole, Dylan had scrambled away and rushed out the door before Brian changed his mind. He was in a daze coming home. He didn’t even stop to really think about what had just happened until he was standing in the middle of his kitchen drinking a glass of cranberry juice and tears making their way down his reddened face. He could’ve been raped. At the minimum he’d been sexually harassed and basically fired because what? He wouldn’t sleep with his boss?
Still reeling, Dylan didn’t hear his father enter the kitchen with the portable house phone in his hands. Leaning against the counter, he waited for Dylan to acknowledge him. It wasn’t happening as Dylan was lost in thought so Darryl had cleared his throat. Startled Dylan had whirled to him with fear in his eyes. It only marginally eased when he saw it was his father. The expression on his face was unreadable though.
“Dad?”
“I just got off the phone with Brian Green. He told me what happened. Did you think I wouldn’t find out what you did?” he asked softly.
“Wh- What? What I did?”
“Yeah, Dylan. What you fucking did.” Darryl’s voice was rising in anger.
“I didn’t DO anything, Dad. I don’t know what Brian told you, but he-”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. God, he said you’d try and turn it on him. He’s no fucking faggot Dylan! You came on to him and he turned you down you!”
Dylan just stood there stunned. This could not be happening. This wasn’t real. His eyes darted around the room trying to focus on something to ground him. His gaze landed on Darryl’s face contorted with anger and disgust. In that split second, he wanted nothing more than to have Nathan by his side to hold him, protect him, to tell him like he’d done when Dylan was young that everything would be ok. But Nathan wasn’t here. No, right now he was all alone and that was so heartbreaking; more so than facing his father’s hatred and bigotry.
“I want you gone. I will not have some aggressive faggot in my home. You have one week to get the hell out of my house. Once you‘re gone, don‘t come back. I told you once, Dylan. And you still disobeyed me. If this is how you choose to be then get this through your thick fucking skull. You. Are. Not. My. Son.”
With those parting words Darryl turned from his now disowned son, with more tears streaming down his young scared face, and went to bed where he promptly fell asleep.
Dylan gathered all his things that he could fit in his car and still leave a sleeping space for himself and left that night. As he fell asleep, he thought not of sexual assault or hatred or prejudice. He wrapped himself in a blanket in the back seat of his car and, as he cried himself into a restless doze, he thought only of Nathan and how much he missed him.
Present Day
The doors opened and Dylan stepped out into a deserted hallway. It was quiet and cold and it smelled funny. He still kept his eyes cast downward because should anyone walk by they would see the pain of a boy forced to grow up too soon and without enough love.
Dylan pushed the familiar pain aside for the moment. He was rarely weak around another person. It took vast amounts of trust that he did not develop easily for him to even consider being vulnerable with someone. There was really only two people he’d ever done that way. One was because they’d just happen to be there at a moment where life had just gotten to hard. He’d broken down, but it wasn’t on purpose and he was grateful for the new confidant it had afforded him. The only other person was one Nathan Taylor, Junior.
He stopped in front of room 715. Written on a plastic placard was Darryl McNamara. Seeing it was oddly surprising for Dylan. He rarely thought of his father so to see even just his name in writing, just out there as if it was normal for him to encounter, was discomfiting and strangely foreboding. He took a shaky breath in. He couldn’t even give himself a pep talk. What was there to say? The only thought that fleetingly passed through his mind was I should’ve just hung up. But by then his hand was pushing open the heavy hospital door and he was walking in.