Freaks

My name is Atlas. I like freaks. You know, the people with funky haircuts, pale skin, piercings galore, and tattoos to boot. I've always been attracted to that type of person, so I became one. I dyed my hair black, shaved off all my body hair (eyebrows included), got some piercings... that sort of thing. Ever since the "transformation" I no longer feel shy. I feel invincible, like I can take on the world and win. Freaks don't have to worry about how other people perceive them. In fact, it's uncharacteristic to care at all. But I have a secret. I can't be unemotional about everything. I was doing so great with my newfound outlook and attire, until I met HIM.

Brian is vulnerable. He's weak. He's thin and small. If he had breasts, you'd think he was a girl. I've never been embarrassed about finding other men attractive, but Brian isn't what I would consider as my "type". Like I said, I like freaks. As far as I know, Brian doesn't have a single tattoo or piercing. His hair is bright, natural blonde, and he doesn't seem to have a style of clothing. But every time I am near him, something swells within my chest and I feel like a protective guard dog, on the lookout for anything that could harm him, and that's a lot.

Brian lives with his parents. His father is a drunk who takes all his rage out on Brian. I live next door, and I can hear the fighting. It's a good thing I don't have a gun, because if I did, I think Brian's dad would be dead.

I understand why he's always so scared. My own father was abusive as well. But Brian seemed to cling to me the moment we met, and somehow it makes me feel needed.

I was laying on my bed with the light off when I heard a little sound, like a kitten scratching on a door. It was coming from my window, so I opened up my black curtains. It was dark outside, so I couldn't see anything. I was about to close the curtains, thinking that I was losing my mind, when a small palm and fingers pressed against the glass. I lost all thought and just had the urge to press my hand back against it. Then Brian's face came into view. Tears were pouring from his eyes. I opened my window as fast as I could and pulled him into my room.

He immediately threw his arms around me in a hug, his tears soaking my Marilyn Manson t-shirt. I hugged him back. I hadn't heard any fighting, but my music was up high. I pulled back and looked for bruises. He was swelling under his eye and his lip was cut. I touched it with my thumb and he inhaled sharply, but didn't pull away. He looked up at me with big blue eyes that seemed drenched in pain. I felt like I was drowning as I stared back at them. I had to look away. I focused my gaze on his neck, and that's when I noticed dark bruising encircling it. Bruises in the shape of hands. My vision went blurry with anger. Brian could see it. He put his arms around me again to calm me. As soon as his arms circled me I relaxed. He has that power over me. I couldn't understand how he could be so serene, but he made the feeling surround me too. Innocence and forgiveness radiated out from him and it made me feel somehow innocent as well.

I brought his hand up to mine to touch it like I had wanted to as it pressed against my window shortly before. I entwined my fingers with his and he gripped my hand tight. Bringing his fingers to my lips, I kissed them and Brian smiled. His cheeks went rosy with shyness. It was as if everything bad had gone and all that remained was devotion.

I noticed that he kept glancing at my lips, so I too a chance and bent to kiss him. He sighed into my kiss like a teenage girl, and I admit it, it made me woosy and stupefied too. His lips were so soft and pale pink. I kissed them again. His leg popped up and he stood on tiptoes to kiss me. It was a kiss straight out of a romance novel. That was when I admitted to myself that I might be in love with Brian. I wondered silently to myself what it might mean to be in love for the first time, until I was snapped back into reality by a nibble to my neck. I moaned aloud without meaning to and it made him giggle. I wanted to bite him back, but I was afraid to hurt him. The bruises on his neck were getting puffy. I knew they were hurting. He reached up and grabbed my chin and brought my gaze back to his. He looked serious for a moment, but then smiled. Taking a deep breath, he spoke to me nervously,

"I've never loved anybody before, Atlas. And I don't know if you feel the same way, but... I think I love you."

Tiny tears were making their way down his rosy cheeks. He was afraid that I would reject his feelings, but I couldn't. I felt the same way.

"Brian, don't cry. I love you too. It's a feeling I've never had before, so I might not be good at it. I hope you'll forgive me." I explained.

"Oh definitely!" he squealed as he clutched my jaw and kissed my clumsily.

"Slow down." I told him, and he did. I kissed him back and touched his tongue to mine. Our lips were perfect fits for each other. It was addicting. Neither of us wanted to quit. I may have become too rough, because he had a sharp intake of breath and pulled back, clutching the cut on his lip.

"Atlas, can I ask you something major?" he inquired.

"Yeah, sure. Anything." I said, encouraging him.

"I'm going to just blurt it out, because I'd annoy myself if I danced around it... Atlas, can I live with you? I promise I won't bother you or get in your way. I'll cook and clean, and I'll sleep on the couch if you want." He pleaded.

"Of course you can stay here." I offered, "But, um, you don't have to sleep on the couch. You can sleep in the bed, and I promise I won't try anything if you don't want me to."

He grinned and thanked me. "What if I wanted you to try something?" he asked.

I couldn't help but to smile enthusiastically. "I would be very happy if you said that, but I don't guarantee to know what I'm doing." I admitted.

"That's okay," he replied, "We can learn together."