Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12642738.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Original_Work
  Additional Tags:
      Kinda_non-con?, but_not_really?, it's_like, eh, Original_Character(s),
      kev_is_a_dick, first_person_in_first_chapter!, then_it_changes
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-05 Chapters: 2/? Words: 2899
****** find a fault, and the whole world will scream ******
by masc_devil, tired_noiz
Summary
     Ethan wishes he'd never met Kevin. Kevin wishes Ethan had never met
     anyone else.
     An original story about a damaged boy, trying to get out of a toxic
     relationship.
     Thanks to masc_devil for the more explicit parts!
Notes
     here we are, trying again to write original content.
     sorry!
     as always, feedback/kudos are appreciated!
     tumblr: nap-nap-motherfucker
***** Chapter 1 *****
“Do you ever wonder…” Kev began to slur, but soon halted. His hand gestures,
however, didn’t pause at all; it was like a puppet being forced by strings. The
boys around us began to chuckle, passing around a single cigarette, while
tapping the ash onto whoever refused to smoke it. Not that any of them felt it.
A disgusting hand waved it in front of Kev - also right in front of my face.
The stench of it nudged me back into the odour of alcohol, so strong I could
taste it. Kev dragged me more into his body - clearly misunderstanding where I
wanted to go. A hand groped my ass. The door seemed too far away.
“You alright, Ethan?” Both his face and breath were uncomfortably close. In an
attempt to get away, I hastily nodded. It didn’t work. He rested the end of the
cigarette in his mouth, and deeply inhaled. The longing to leave grew. Smoke
poured out of his mouth when he finally handed the stick to the next person
waiting, almost dumping ash into my hair. If I’d have kicked up a fuss, he’d
have said it didn’t matter: “it would be camouflaged anyway, love!”
“Oi! Kev, you missed ‘im!” Someone whose name had slipped my mind - maybe I
hadn’t bothered to learn it in the first place - called out. Obviously, I
hadn’t smoked, nor had burning ash tapped on me. In confusion, Kevin had
released me from the unrelenting grip he'd had on me. Realizing now was the
best time to escape, I scurried up onto my feet, thanking myself that I had
spat out the alcohol given to me earlier. The rest were drunk enough that their
reflexes had taken a heavy impact, but their tongues had loosened and quickly
became venomous, throwing out insults and crude remarks. Some tried to reach
for my ankles, purely trying to knock me to the ground. One managed to. 
I've never felt so panicked in my life - laying dazed on a floor, surrounded by
drunken, dangerous men. 
"Heh, come on love... You know it never hurts to share your talents..."
Disgusting. 
"We've heard about what a little whore you can be..." Another commented. 
Before any of them could get closer, I threw my body towards the door, not even
bothering to stand properly - I just wanted to get out, I didn't care if I
broke anything in the process. Fortunately, I landed just in front of the door,
and gripped onto it, as if it was my last chance of survival. The door had
always fucked me over. Maybe this once it would save me. With an unrelenting
force, I ripped it open, and tumbled forward, closing it with my exit.
"Don't be such a frigid bi-" The door slamming blocked out the rest of their
sentence; not that it was difficult to finish it. Yet now I'd left, I was
unsure of where to go. Considering what had just happened, I didn't favour the
idea of going back into the room, nor staying in the dingy apartment. It reeked
of sweat, alcohol and smoke. Disgusting. I prayed that the stench hadn't
infected my clothes.
During times like this, I was glad that we'd moved into a forest area, just
outside the city. The taste of fresh air was like honey pouring down my throat,
soothing the soreness inside. Yet it couldn't cure everything. As much as I
adore seeing winter in its finer moments, the threat of frostbite lingered, and
I found myself more stressed out by the shivers and goosebumps appearing on my
bare arms. There was no way I could go back into that place, even if I wanted
to. Patting down my pockets revealed that, luckily, I hadn't left my wallet
behind. Whether it had any money was an entirely different story.
Without realising, I'd began to wander aimlessly towards the city, where
excited children were clinging onto their mothers' and fathers' hands, dancing
along icy paths without a care in the world. I envied them. One pointed at my
hair and exclaimed that it was the same colour as the snow, eliciting gasps
from them all. Parents smiled sympathetically for their outburst, but did
nothing to stop them crowding around, asking and asking again.
"Why is your hair white?" I've never really had much experience with kids, nor
know how to treat them. My mouth opened and closed a few times - horrifically
similar to a fish - only to shrug in response. Still, I attempted a warm smile
as they left, begging their parents for snow white hair. I found myself
wishing, my eyes trailing on after them.
I've never been sure as to why I have white hair. The foster home used to joke
that I was aging faster than everyone else. Some believed that I'd dyed it.
Both are quite obviously lies. Factually, it must come from my parents - not
that I would know anything about them, let alone what they look like. The other
kids used to ask if I missed them; how can you miss people you don't remember?
Or rather, don't wish to remember.
"-than. Ethan?" I'd been so wrapped up in my thoughts I didn't realise that
someone was trying to talk to me. I can't say I particularly wanted to talk to
this someone, though.
"Sorry."
"It's okay darlin'. What were you thinking about?" At this point, his arms were
already thrown around me.
"I-"
"I suppose it doesn't matter now. Why'd you leave the party?"
"I," Pausing, I assumed I was going to get interrupted again. Yet when I looked
up, I only found two hazel eyes looking at me expectantly. How was I meant to
answer this without offending him? I don't - I don't know. But here I was,
boxed in by arms that were frighteningly similar to cage bars and something
less... Physical, to put it simply. Breaking out of something that didn't exist
was an entirely new concept to me - so, quite obviously, I didn't know how to
do it. Suddenly, I realised my lack of response must have been suspicious. "I
didn't like it."
"Is it what they sa-"
"Please don't." My tone was sombre and sober; his was dreamy and drunk. I
didn't want- forget that, I couldn't deal with it at that moment. As I began to
flee, his hand shot out and held onto mine tightly, unrelenting. I couldn't
help but snap at him. "What?!"
His eyes grew teary, reminding me of a kicked puppy. Instantly, guilt grew
within me, yet I knew apologising would just make me feel worse. The guilt
gnawing at my conscience increased as his hand - shaking slightly, whether
through nerves or the drugs - reached behind him and pulled out a small box
coated in a rich felt.
"I want- I'm asking you to marry me." Nothing had ever panicked me as much as
that one sentence did. I've witnessed a mother smash a bottle into shards
before my very eyes, only to rush at me with what was left of it. I don't know
whether I'm bragging when I say I didn't flinch. Yet this little box made me
feel even more petrified than those daggers at the end of the bottle.
His hands, surprisingly, kept their harsh grip for the fair few moments of
silence we were stuck in. I suppose it was the only source of comfort - the
heat radiating from his palms kept mine warm. Yet when I finally glanced up, I
didn't see the charming face I was expecting to see. Instead, I saw a face that
resembled the harshest winters, burning a hole right through me. A face I'd
never seen before. I didn't like it.
"Why aren't you saying yes?"
Then, rather suddenly, it dawned on me how much had changed. God, it used to be
so good. I used to feel love. I used to fucking feel. 
Where did all of that go? Where did it go, Kevin - did you wish it away? Or
were you always like this?
 
***** i’ll never ask, i’ll never ask again *****
Chapter Summary
     Things get heated.
      
     many thanks to masc_devil, who did a lot of work on this chapter!!
Born in 1999, Ethan Langdon was a boy with little faith in the world. From the
age of 12 years old, he'd lost all memory of his past life. All the foster home
knew was that he was born on Christmas Day, oddly enough - his parents clearly
didn't value their gift.
However, when he'd first arrived, Ethan couldn't even remember his own
birthday. Every now and then, little odd things would surface, along with
darker memories. Memories of ash, memories of broken glass, memories of blood.
Fear, fire, force. However, his history - or lack of it - showed no fires with
his name. The only police report that came up was a mother abusing her son, but
the child remained unnamed. The foster home could only presume it was him, the
tremors and the nightmares only substantiating the idea further.
The report spoke of a failing relationship. The nightmares, screaming, and fear
of affection spoke of something more that the kid couldn't say himself. After
many, many tests, they finally discovered that Ethan had lived an awful life -
full of abuse, both verbal and physical. It broke Mike (the owner of the foster
home, Mike Langdon), to see such a sweet kid so... lifeless. It was like a doll
had been dropped off, all responses seeming as though they'd been programmed
into him. Simple questions like "did you want a drink", or "are you hungry"
were quickly cut off by "no thank you" in the same monotone voice.
Back when Ethan first arrived, the foster home was incredibly quiet, only home
to a few children. Most were orphans, children who’d either been forced into
the system or given in by family members who couldn’t bear the hassle of a
trouble child. There was one child, however, who was a special case - picked
out specifically by Mike, taken in by him when he first started up the home a
few years ago. Nate Langdon, a young, lively teenager who clicked with anyone
that entered the foster home. Even Ethan couldn’t resist his friendliness, and
even though he stayed silent and emotionless, he stuck to Nate’s side.
That’s how the whole damn thing started. Kevin joined only a year after Nate
did, and the boy was known for malicious tendencies. There was just something
about him... some evil spark, some sort of hint that told anybody that he could
snap at any moment. They all just put it down to his past, and perhaps he’d
change. He seemed kind enough, and Mike couldn’t bear to let him go. So when
Ethan joined, Kevin put on his best charm. He’d found someone he knew he could
take advantage of, and boy did he. The minute the white haired boy came out of
his shell, he was instantly smitten with how funny and attractive Kev was, and
how kind he’d been. He felt safe around this new person, as if nothing could
ever hurt him again.
Before even a year had gone by, he’d became dependent on Kev, craving the
attention he was given so lovingly. A couple of months later, he was now his
lover. A week later, they were spooning on Ethan’s bed.
“I love you, baby. No one is ever gonna love you like I do.” Kev murmured in
Ethan’s ear, his arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Ethan felt secure,
safe, and loved - his eyes closed, the warm feeling of belonging drifting
through him. He let Kev’s words soothe him into a trance, before he felt
something pressing up against his backside.
“Feel that? You did that, that’s what you do to me baby.” Ethan was 14, and he
knew how erections worked, knew what was behind him. That didn’t mean it didn’t
scare him, though. Kev had began to grind up against him, murmuring sweetly
into his ear, but it made no difference - if anything, Ethan tensed up even
more. His lover must’ve felt it, since he stopped, lifting himself up to lean
over, looking at Ethan.
“You okay, sweetheart? I know this is new for you, but I want to show you how
much I love you…” Blushing, the younger boy nodded, watching how Kev grinned
before pressing a kiss onto the rosy cheek. They resumed their spooning, Kev
still grinding before moving a hand down to palm Ethan’s dick through his
shorts. Startled by the sudden touch, Ethan jumped back, right onto the hard
cock behind him, causing his lover to let out a guttural moan. One hand quickly
pulled down his shorts and boxers, pulling his ass apart to grind against his
taint.
“I’ll stretch you out nice and wide, baby… you won’t feel a thing, I promise.”
Ethan, in a dream-like state, didn’t resist to the finger that suddenly pressed
at his hole. He’d heard Kev spit on it, and hoped that it would be slick enough
to enter without hurting. It just felt weird, really. Like it didn’t belong
there. After only a few pumps, another finger pushed in, the dryness of it
quickly becoming uncomfortable. Ethan let out a small noise of complaint, which
Kev took as a noise of pleasure.
“Yeah, yeah, I knew you’d love it…” He murmured from behind, fingers now
prodding into him with a force so painful it brought tears to his eyes. “I
don’t… shit, I don’t have condoms or lube…” Kev said, sighing as he got up to
look around the room for anything they could use. Ethan continued to lay there
limply, trying to forget the slight ache of his hole being treated so roughly.
“Hm… We’ll just have to use my spit, baby…” His heart raced; if this hurt with
just fingers, it would hurt a hell of a lot more with a cock. “I’ll go slow,
you won’t feel it, I promise.”
The moment Ethan felt the body press up against him again, he flinched. Kev
rubbed his back reassuringly, before moving his hand in front of the boy’s
face. “Spit, babe.” And so he did, but it was a pathetic amount. His whole
mouth had dried in fear. The hand moved behind him, and he heard the disgusting
noise of Kev spitting too, before the slick sounds of it being rubbed over his
cock were audible to Ethan’s ears. A hand spread him apart again, his hole
stinging at the touch. The tip nudged his hole, and he instinctively clenched
down, refusing any entry.
“Relax baby, it won’t hurt… I’ll be gentle.” The kind words weren’t even
registered by Ethan, too focused on the cock forcing entry into him. God, did
it hurt. His hand moved to his mouth as he tried not to cry, tears falling down
his face as it felt like he was being torn apart.
“St-stop!” Unable to suffer anymore, Ethan finally cried out. Surprisingly, Kev
did stop, his hand moving to draw patterns on his lover’s hip in an attempt to
calm him down. “Please… please take it out, it hurts too much.” He begged, his
hands gripping at the bed sheet tightly as he prayed he wasn’t bleeding in his
asshole. He wasn’t ready to go get that shit patched up by Mike, like his other
scars.
“I can’t pull out baby… it’ll hurt you more.” Maybe if Ethan was older, and
knew more, he’d realise Kev was lying. Maybe. It didn’t matter anyway - Ethan
knew he wanted it out, right now.
“I don’t care… please take it out.” He sobbed, unable to move himself in fear
of causing even more pain. Kev must’ve taken pity on him, as he felt the length
slowly slide out, until he felt the cool air on what seemed like open wounds.
“Am..am I bleeding?” He asked hesitantly, his voice breaking with each sob that
wracked his body.
“No, no. You’re not bleeding.” Kev attempted to sound caring, but Ethan could
hear his annoyance. “If you were bleeding I would have stopped by myself.” He
grumbled, turning away from the younger boy, sulking. Ethan felt even worse,
guilt now spreading inside of his gut, making him feel like throwing up.
“S-sorry…” He stuttered out, tears falling again as he whimpered into his
sleeve. Kev sighed, turning to face Ethan’s back again, pressing a kiss onto
the pale neck in front of him.
“If you really want to make it up to me… let me cum on your ass.” He said,
smirking as he reached down, already touching his dick to bring it to fully
erect. Ethan nodded, not really wanting it but saying yes just to ease some of
the guilt he felt. He felt his lover thrust forward into his fist, his eyes
closing as he tried to relax, tried to convince himself that it was okay. This
was the first time he’d ever felt anything less than safe with Kev, the first
time he’d ever felt truly threatened. He tried to tell himself that it was
okay, he was just overreacting.
His thoughts were interrupted by grunting, and a cock sliding between his
cheeks to prod at his hole again. Before he could even resist, or tell his
lover to stop, he felt a warm liquid splatter his insides, the contact of it
instantly stinging. He got up on shaky legs, stumbling to the bathroom, before
locking himself in - or rather, locking Kev out.
 
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