Sticks and Stones - SIX / ?
Author: kitty69lover
Rating: NC-17, violence, non-con, rape, perhaps kink and allusions to incest.
Category: Drama
Characters: International cast of characters. To be revealed as the story progresses. For Chapter Six: Bastian Schweinsteiger, Javier Pastore, Jesus Navas, Yoann Gourcuff, Daniel Agger, Gonzalo Higuain, David Silva, Javier "Chicharito" Hernandez, mentions of: Frank Lampard/John Terry, Zlatan Ibrahimovic, Gennaro Gattuso, Didier Drogba, Mark Van Bommel, Jose Mourinho, Lisandro Lopez, Petunia Skunk
Length: long story
Summary: 6 boys ages 18 - 23 with behavior issues are sent by their exasperated parents to a Reeducation Camp set on a Pacific island, unbeknown to them that the methods of reeducation consist of beatings, slave work, sexual corrections, all set in a general climate of military-type discipline administered by a materialist manager and his staff.
Disclaimer: all in my head, just my imagination. Not true.
Authors Notes: 1. this fic is largely inspired [at least the start] by a movie whose intro I saw one late night, and whose name escapes me now, as well as by the movie Holes, starring the young at the time and not so frightening Shia LeBoeuf.
2. this fic will have a ton of characters. Some main, some supporting, some minor. And as it stands, it'll only have 2 standard OTPs, one of which i've never written. Don't stone me for any inaccuracies.
3. You can claim any pairing you wish in the Pairing HQ thread - HERE
One | Two | Three | Four | Five
Six
10:40 PM
Bastian pushed the almost collapsing Dane through the door of Dorm 3 and shouted at the boys to take care of him before closing the door. He then scurried to settle his bet with Mark Van Bommel.
Daniel staggered and would've fallen, had Javier not caught him and dragged him towards the bed Yoann was occupying.
“Yoann, I think you should take the upper bunk after all.” he said as politely as he could.
Yoann grumbled something in French and got up. He helped Javier put Agger in bed and then remained in the middle of the room.
“It's funny they would put the druggies in the same room. They usually kept them apart, and they tried now too, since they moved David in dorm 4 this morning.” Jesus, the green eyed brunette commented.
“For the last time, I’m NOT a druggie. I just deal heroin, I told you that. I'm not as stupid as this idiot here.” Yoann shook his head.
He was hating his roommates already. As much as he disliked Xavi and how he was trying to get Cesc all for himself, he was nicer than Jesus Navas and Javier Pastore. And Cesc was a sweetheart, although a little pretentious.
He wanted nothing from the two, but now that the last of the roommates had made in, both original occupants of Dorm 3 became very chatty.
“Daniel, are you OK?” Jesus enquired, with a soft look on his face.
But Daniel was so queasy and his body ached so much, he couldn't even open his eyes, little less talk. He shook his head instead.
“I'd feel really bad for you, if you weren't my get out of jail card.” Jesus continued in the same tone, caressing Daniel's forehead.
Javier shot him a look and mumbled 'hypocrite'. Yoann was the only one to pick it up, and not the addressee, Jesus. He locked eyes with the taller boy.
“You said something?” he wondered, half intrigued.
“I was talking to Jesus.” Javier snapped.
“What?” Jesus looked at them, his attention leaving Daniel for a second.
“You're a hypocrite, that's what I said. You know it's true.”
Jesus looked away and didn't say anything. He resumed pampering the Dane, arranging his legs in a more comfortable position.
“What's this all about?”
Yoann hated his own curiosity and getting involved in things that didn't concern him, but he knew very well he should watch his back so he wanted to be prepared. After all, he was going to share his life with these people.
“Jesus is part of a cult that urges self sacrifice and an exemplary behaviour. He's a cathar credente.”
“I thought the Cathar movement was destroyed ages ago.” Yoann cocked an eyebrow.
Both Jesus and Javier stared in disbelief at Yoann for a good few seconds before saying anything.
“You know about the Cathars?”
Yoann shook his head for the nth time that day. He wasn't an idiot. He had been to the best schools in France and only had to drop out because he left home.
“So, what makes you a hypocrite?” Yoann asked instead of explaining how and why he knew of the Cathar movement.
“Because he's Lampard and Terry's bitch right now. They love deranged, weak folk, tghat won't put up any resistance and now that they brought in another drug addict, he hopes they'll leave him alone and torment this poor guy instead. That's not very Cathar of him, not according to what he has been preaching to us.”
“I see.” Yoann commented.
He looked at Daniel, only now taking his time to inspect the pale and writhing Dane. He closed his eyes and his mind raced away from the island, towards the man he was forced to leave behind. He promised to himself that if Jesus the Cathar was right, and Daniel would be forced into things, he would take care of him.
“So, I know who Terry is, the chief of guards. He looks like a hard bastard indeed. But Lampard?”
“Lampard's the guy he was next to. They're officially together, the only intra-guards couple. And they're like sadists. You don't really want to know the things they did to me, and before I came, to David. They love to use people that have issues, people that cannot really stand up to them. I'm a very peaceful person, as a credente and I’ve taught myself to resist all sufferance...”
“Why are you here?”
“Because of my religion, what else.” he sighed resigned. “I was 16 when I became really disillusioned with Catholicism and what they stood for. I was at an all boys Catholic school and I didn't like it. I was looking for an way out, a belief that would fit my simple needs and catharism was the answer. It took my parents almost two years to understand that I had chosen for life, that it wasn't mere teen rebellion. They tried everything, even calling an exorcist!” he sniggered. “Then they decided to ship me here, as a last resort. And so here I’ve been, almost 5 months of playing ragdoll for those sick bastards!” his voice now shaky with fury.
Yoann felt a little disturbed. If the two were that horrible, then he couldn't really blame Jesus for feeling relieved at the thought of being replaced.
“So, is this how things are? Everyone's a sadist taking advantage of us?” he asked, slightly concerned.
He could take it, abuse, but not continuous.
“No. Not at all. It really depends. The only truly bad people that have no mercy and no god are Gattuso, Lampard and Terry. Sex wise, at least. Bastian is a weird case. I've never heard of him do anything. And Mark is with Thomas, he's a little brutal during work, but he's never gonna force anyone. Then there's Zlatan that is actually quite nice. Hmm...” he pondered for a second scanning Yoann. “And Didier. Didier is another weird case, he's all right and quiet and then suddenly he cannot control his urges.”
Yoann took a seat on the bed next to Daniel, in the seat Jesus had vacated. He was ready to listen now.
~*~
10:38 PM
When Gonzalo finally made it to the designated dorm, he found it in complete darkness, much to his dismay. He wanted to sleep, of course, but at the same time, he was hella wired and wanted to get to know his roommates before setting for the night.
“Hello?” he whispered tentatively.
There was no response. He began to listen carefully, the two sets of breaths weren't of asleep people. It enraged him to know they were pretending. After fumbling for a few minutes, he found the switch and flickered on the lights.
The two boys had no choice but to get up, muffling curses.
“Fucking great, what did you think I'd do to you?” he looked at the two.
Long haired and thin, short and dark eyed, the boy in the upper bunk closed his eyes unable to hold his gaze. The buzz cut wide eyed boy in the lower bunk stared though, his eyes moons in the poor lighting of the room.
“You're in a gang.” he said.
“So?”
“You're kinda scary, you know, intimidating.” he said, his gaze still locked with Gonzalo's.
“I'm not intimidating, I'm Gonzalo, you can call me Gonza, if you wish.” he said, extending a hand, as friendly as he could.
The boys' obvious fear had somehow cheered him up. It was good to have a reputation already.
“Oh. I'm Javier Hernandez, but everyone calls me Chicharito, cause of the other Javier. This is David Silva. He's a little paranoid and easily scared.”
“David, I won't hurt you. Neither of you and no-one else. I'm not a bad guy.” he extended a hand that David shook softly.
There was a long silence during which Gonzalo took off his shoes and shirt and climbed up in the upper bunk of the other bed in the room. He was now level with David.
“So, guys. I need to unwind and stop feeling sorry for myself. Tell me what brought you here and how are things around here.”
“I used to be a shoplifter. Even if my parents were rich and you know, I had no reason to do so. I never stole valuable stuff, more like magazines, candy, small items that could pocketed or hid under a jacket. And it first started as a dare among my group of friends. The adrenalin rush was so great though, I started doing it regularly. I needed it. Life in Guadalajara can be boring, you know. Especially for a rich kind. So I stole and stole until my parents were no longer able to find excuses or to cover it. It was becoming unmanageable. But it's not that horrible, is it? I wasn't doing drugs, right?”
“Hey!” David interjected, upset and tense.
He locked eyes with Gonzalo for just a second before closing them quickly.
“I'm sorry David. I'm so inconsiderate. But yeah, they sent me here. Hello rape and beatings and hard work. Gives me plenty of adrenalin to be honest.” he said, in an self deprecating tone.
Gonzalo wanted to shrink in his bed, he had always lived a life of luxury as well and always had people at his disposal. Knowing he will become a mere toy for the powerful made him sweat.
“David had the drugs issues. But David, it's your story, you tell it.” Chicharito urged him.
“OK.” He took a deep breath of air. “I was in love with my neighbour. Whenever I wrote my name down somewhere, I’d double the lines on each letter, because his name was David too. Oh how silly of me.”
Gonzalo didn't really think it was silly. It was cute, childish, but cute. Ache stabbed at his heart momentarily.
“Well, he was older. He didn't even see me. He never knew. And I had built up a great big fantasy regarding him. And when he left, when one day he simply wasn't there anymore, something cracked inside of me. I first started to drink, go clubbing. My parents were actually thrilled, cause I was kind of a loner before and now I was socializing. So then booze wasn't enough, it was not destructive enough for someone that can't really hold their liquor. So one of my clubbing friends, Hugo, introduced me to meth. Oh the rush. The high, the amazing high....”
His voice went hard. Sitting up in his bunk and looking straight through Gonzalo, he continued.
“And the lows. And my parents suddenly didn't like this anymore. They're the neglectful parents type, so without trying any other remedy, they shipped me here. It solved the problem, didn't it? They get monthly reports on my progress, so they're content. And I...well, I’m clean now. But...” he let out a heartbreaking sigh and collapsed back on the mattress.
“What?” Gonzalo asked, truly concerned.
“He's been seriously abused.” Chicharito whispered.
“I'll make sure the bastard pays.” Gonzalo said in a determined tone.
That made the two boys burst into laughter.
~*~
11:12 PM
“You know, despite everything, I like it here.” Javier Pastore said, seeing that Yoann was getting beyond restless.
“What?”
“Yeah, you see. Unlike you guys...that have done things to get here, things that you chose, I could say that, yes, I didn't actually do anything. Except for being gay.”
“You're kidding.”
“Nope. I come from a small village. Yes, Argentina's a progressive country, but not my village. Not when my father was mayor and owned half of the land. Mom's family had the shoe factory. And I was the literally the only gay in the village, that's not just a cute phrase. And when I began to awaken sexually, it was really frustrating. All the boys my age were scared of me. My best friend, Lionel, he punched me in the face and told me to never look him up ever again when I told him. So I was kinda furious. I was so young too. My parents told me to cut it out, they started hooking me up with random pretty girls. So I began to behave like a flaming homosexual.”
He let out a laugh before a shocked Yoann.
“So yeah, I began to visit old man Diego. He was probably insane and stricken with grief over losing his wife and kids. So he'd let me suck him off. No woman would, you know and he had no money to pay hookers. And that was the last straw for my dad. He sent me here. Unbeknown to him that this is like gay paradise. Here I found acceptance, peers and as corny as it may sound, love. I don't ever want to leave.”
“Gosh.” came from Daniel.
They had paid him little to no attention, but he had been carefully listening to their conversation, focusing on each and every word in an attempt to not puke.
“Yeah. Licha's so bloody awesome. He's not an official, so I’m as much on the market as anyone else, but even the officials need to eat, so they mostly leave me alone. I just have to make sure I convince Mourinho to write that I'm far from cured in his reports to my folks. Life couldn't be better. Even the mining becomes OK, after a while.”
“Then I can only be happy for you.” Yoann shrugged. “Do you think Drogba might make a move soon?” he had to wonder, finally leaving his post by Daniel's side and climbing in his own bunk.
“It depends. If Zlatan claims you tomorrow, then you've got nothing to fear, because Didi ain't that stupid.”
“But that's not very certain.”
“It's not. You have the whole night to pray.” Javier snickered, switching off the lights.
In darkness and silence, Daniel felt a little better, safer, as if it was light and sound harming him. He tried to not think of what would happen the next day, instead counting his roommates' breaths as they had fallen asleep.
~*~
“So, there's no chance for me to have it easy, is there?” Gonzalo sighed.
“I guess not. Lisandro might take pity on you, but he doesn't have any real power, so I don't know if that'll be of any help. Besides, he's hopelessly smitten with Javier, your fellow Argentine.”
Gonzalo had yet to meet his compatriot and he already hated him. Even if the chef had been morose, his mere presence and the Argentine drawl had made him feel better. Less uprooted.
He didn't want to become anyone's bitch, little less Red's or Didier's. But as it stood, it wasn't like he had much of a choice.
“Say, everyone here is male, right, there's no women on the island?” he asked randomly, having it dawned on him.
“Well...there is one. They call her Petunia Skunk. She's mad, she used to be a guard too, or something like that. Some say she's Mourinho's sister, or cousin. She lost it around the same time a kid died, the only boy that died that we know of, his name escapes me now. She fled to the jungle and she's been living there ever since. You'll have to ask Thomas, really, he's the one that's been here longest.” Chicharito explained.
He had been the talkative one, David having sunken in a tragic silence after explaining the new roomie what had happened to him.
“Interesting.” Gonzalo replied, unable to think of anything else to say.
“Hey, lights out, you slimy bastards!” came a strong voice from outside.
Mark opened the door and hitting the switch, left the boys in darkness, so they realised they should go to sleep already.
He shook his head. So many new boys at once was surely going to cause trouble. He dragged his feet round the square formed by the 4 dorms, thinking of a way to get even with Bastian. It was going to be 5 more hours till his shift ended, so he had plenty of time.
Notes:
1. in no way is this fic supposed to be a dig at Catholicism. i mean no disrespect. it's just that it was the Rome Church that deemed The Cathars as heretics, so yeah, there was no way to not mention this in order to explain Jesus' allegiance.
2. The Cathars existed and were destroyed in the 13th century. more about them: here
3. As of chapter 6, all the characters in the fic are revealed. therefore, i declare mating season open. post your requests here: HERE
Rating: NC-17, violence, non-con, rape, perhaps kink and allusions to incest.
Category: Drama
Characters: International cast of characters. To be revealed as the story progresses. For Chapter Six: Bastian Schweinsteiger, Javier Pastore, Jesus Navas, Yoann Gourcuff, Daniel Agger, Gonzalo Higuain, David Silva, Javier "Chicharito" Hernandez, mentions of: Frank Lampard/John Terry, Zlatan Ibrahimovic, Gennaro Gattuso, Didier Drogba, Mark Van Bommel, Jose Mourinho, Lisandro Lopez, Petunia Skunk
Length: long story
Summary: 6 boys ages 18 - 23 with behavior issues are sent by their exasperated parents to a Reeducation Camp set on a Pacific island, unbeknown to them that the methods of reeducation consist of beatings, slave work, sexual corrections, all set in a general climate of military-type discipline administered by a materialist manager and his staff.
Disclaimer: all in my head, just my imagination. Not true.
Authors Notes: 1. this fic is largely inspired [at least the start] by a movie whose intro I saw one late night, and whose name escapes me now, as well as by the movie Holes, starring the young at the time and not so frightening Shia LeBoeuf.
2. this fic will have a ton of characters. Some main, some supporting, some minor. And as it stands, it'll only have 2 standard OTPs, one of which i've never written. Don't stone me for any inaccuracies.
3. You can claim any pairing you wish in the Pairing HQ thread - HERE
One | Two | Three | Four | Five
Six
10:40 PM
Bastian pushed the almost collapsing Dane through the door of Dorm 3 and shouted at the boys to take care of him before closing the door. He then scurried to settle his bet with Mark Van Bommel.
Daniel staggered and would've fallen, had Javier not caught him and dragged him towards the bed Yoann was occupying.
“Yoann, I think you should take the upper bunk after all.” he said as politely as he could.
Yoann grumbled something in French and got up. He helped Javier put Agger in bed and then remained in the middle of the room.
“It's funny they would put the druggies in the same room. They usually kept them apart, and they tried now too, since they moved David in dorm 4 this morning.” Jesus, the green eyed brunette commented.
“For the last time, I’m NOT a druggie. I just deal heroin, I told you that. I'm not as stupid as this idiot here.” Yoann shook his head.
He was hating his roommates already. As much as he disliked Xavi and how he was trying to get Cesc all for himself, he was nicer than Jesus Navas and Javier Pastore. And Cesc was a sweetheart, although a little pretentious.
He wanted nothing from the two, but now that the last of the roommates had made in, both original occupants of Dorm 3 became very chatty.
“Daniel, are you OK?” Jesus enquired, with a soft look on his face.
But Daniel was so queasy and his body ached so much, he couldn't even open his eyes, little less talk. He shook his head instead.
“I'd feel really bad for you, if you weren't my get out of jail card.” Jesus continued in the same tone, caressing Daniel's forehead.
Javier shot him a look and mumbled 'hypocrite'. Yoann was the only one to pick it up, and not the addressee, Jesus. He locked eyes with the taller boy.
“You said something?” he wondered, half intrigued.
“I was talking to Jesus.” Javier snapped.
“What?” Jesus looked at them, his attention leaving Daniel for a second.
“You're a hypocrite, that's what I said. You know it's true.”
Jesus looked away and didn't say anything. He resumed pampering the Dane, arranging his legs in a more comfortable position.
“What's this all about?”
Yoann hated his own curiosity and getting involved in things that didn't concern him, but he knew very well he should watch his back so he wanted to be prepared. After all, he was going to share his life with these people.
“Jesus is part of a cult that urges self sacrifice and an exemplary behaviour. He's a cathar credente.”
“I thought the Cathar movement was destroyed ages ago.” Yoann cocked an eyebrow.
Both Jesus and Javier stared in disbelief at Yoann for a good few seconds before saying anything.
“You know about the Cathars?”
Yoann shook his head for the nth time that day. He wasn't an idiot. He had been to the best schools in France and only had to drop out because he left home.
“So, what makes you a hypocrite?” Yoann asked instead of explaining how and why he knew of the Cathar movement.
“Because he's Lampard and Terry's bitch right now. They love deranged, weak folk, tghat won't put up any resistance and now that they brought in another drug addict, he hopes they'll leave him alone and torment this poor guy instead. That's not very Cathar of him, not according to what he has been preaching to us.”
“I see.” Yoann commented.
He looked at Daniel, only now taking his time to inspect the pale and writhing Dane. He closed his eyes and his mind raced away from the island, towards the man he was forced to leave behind. He promised to himself that if Jesus the Cathar was right, and Daniel would be forced into things, he would take care of him.
“So, I know who Terry is, the chief of guards. He looks like a hard bastard indeed. But Lampard?”
“Lampard's the guy he was next to. They're officially together, the only intra-guards couple. And they're like sadists. You don't really want to know the things they did to me, and before I came, to David. They love to use people that have issues, people that cannot really stand up to them. I'm a very peaceful person, as a credente and I’ve taught myself to resist all sufferance...”
“Why are you here?”
“Because of my religion, what else.” he sighed resigned. “I was 16 when I became really disillusioned with Catholicism and what they stood for. I was at an all boys Catholic school and I didn't like it. I was looking for an way out, a belief that would fit my simple needs and catharism was the answer. It took my parents almost two years to understand that I had chosen for life, that it wasn't mere teen rebellion. They tried everything, even calling an exorcist!” he sniggered. “Then they decided to ship me here, as a last resort. And so here I’ve been, almost 5 months of playing ragdoll for those sick bastards!” his voice now shaky with fury.
Yoann felt a little disturbed. If the two were that horrible, then he couldn't really blame Jesus for feeling relieved at the thought of being replaced.
“So, is this how things are? Everyone's a sadist taking advantage of us?” he asked, slightly concerned.
He could take it, abuse, but not continuous.
“No. Not at all. It really depends. The only truly bad people that have no mercy and no god are Gattuso, Lampard and Terry. Sex wise, at least. Bastian is a weird case. I've never heard of him do anything. And Mark is with Thomas, he's a little brutal during work, but he's never gonna force anyone. Then there's Zlatan that is actually quite nice. Hmm...” he pondered for a second scanning Yoann. “And Didier. Didier is another weird case, he's all right and quiet and then suddenly he cannot control his urges.”
Yoann took a seat on the bed next to Daniel, in the seat Jesus had vacated. He was ready to listen now.
~*~
10:38 PM
When Gonzalo finally made it to the designated dorm, he found it in complete darkness, much to his dismay. He wanted to sleep, of course, but at the same time, he was hella wired and wanted to get to know his roommates before setting for the night.
“Hello?” he whispered tentatively.
There was no response. He began to listen carefully, the two sets of breaths weren't of asleep people. It enraged him to know they were pretending. After fumbling for a few minutes, he found the switch and flickered on the lights.
The two boys had no choice but to get up, muffling curses.
“Fucking great, what did you think I'd do to you?” he looked at the two.
Long haired and thin, short and dark eyed, the boy in the upper bunk closed his eyes unable to hold his gaze. The buzz cut wide eyed boy in the lower bunk stared though, his eyes moons in the poor lighting of the room.
“You're in a gang.” he said.
“So?”
“You're kinda scary, you know, intimidating.” he said, his gaze still locked with Gonzalo's.
“I'm not intimidating, I'm Gonzalo, you can call me Gonza, if you wish.” he said, extending a hand, as friendly as he could.
The boys' obvious fear had somehow cheered him up. It was good to have a reputation already.
“Oh. I'm Javier Hernandez, but everyone calls me Chicharito, cause of the other Javier. This is David Silva. He's a little paranoid and easily scared.”
“David, I won't hurt you. Neither of you and no-one else. I'm not a bad guy.” he extended a hand that David shook softly.
There was a long silence during which Gonzalo took off his shoes and shirt and climbed up in the upper bunk of the other bed in the room. He was now level with David.
“So, guys. I need to unwind and stop feeling sorry for myself. Tell me what brought you here and how are things around here.”
“I used to be a shoplifter. Even if my parents were rich and you know, I had no reason to do so. I never stole valuable stuff, more like magazines, candy, small items that could pocketed or hid under a jacket. And it first started as a dare among my group of friends. The adrenalin rush was so great though, I started doing it regularly. I needed it. Life in Guadalajara can be boring, you know. Especially for a rich kind. So I stole and stole until my parents were no longer able to find excuses or to cover it. It was becoming unmanageable. But it's not that horrible, is it? I wasn't doing drugs, right?”
“Hey!” David interjected, upset and tense.
He locked eyes with Gonzalo for just a second before closing them quickly.
“I'm sorry David. I'm so inconsiderate. But yeah, they sent me here. Hello rape and beatings and hard work. Gives me plenty of adrenalin to be honest.” he said, in an self deprecating tone.
Gonzalo wanted to shrink in his bed, he had always lived a life of luxury as well and always had people at his disposal. Knowing he will become a mere toy for the powerful made him sweat.
“David had the drugs issues. But David, it's your story, you tell it.” Chicharito urged him.
“OK.” He took a deep breath of air. “I was in love with my neighbour. Whenever I wrote my name down somewhere, I’d double the lines on each letter, because his name was David too. Oh how silly of me.”
Gonzalo didn't really think it was silly. It was cute, childish, but cute. Ache stabbed at his heart momentarily.
“Well, he was older. He didn't even see me. He never knew. And I had built up a great big fantasy regarding him. And when he left, when one day he simply wasn't there anymore, something cracked inside of me. I first started to drink, go clubbing. My parents were actually thrilled, cause I was kind of a loner before and now I was socializing. So then booze wasn't enough, it was not destructive enough for someone that can't really hold their liquor. So one of my clubbing friends, Hugo, introduced me to meth. Oh the rush. The high, the amazing high....”
His voice went hard. Sitting up in his bunk and looking straight through Gonzalo, he continued.
“And the lows. And my parents suddenly didn't like this anymore. They're the neglectful parents type, so without trying any other remedy, they shipped me here. It solved the problem, didn't it? They get monthly reports on my progress, so they're content. And I...well, I’m clean now. But...” he let out a heartbreaking sigh and collapsed back on the mattress.
“What?” Gonzalo asked, truly concerned.
“He's been seriously abused.” Chicharito whispered.
“I'll make sure the bastard pays.” Gonzalo said in a determined tone.
That made the two boys burst into laughter.
~*~
11:12 PM
“You know, despite everything, I like it here.” Javier Pastore said, seeing that Yoann was getting beyond restless.
“What?”
“Yeah, you see. Unlike you guys...that have done things to get here, things that you chose, I could say that, yes, I didn't actually do anything. Except for being gay.”
“You're kidding.”
“Nope. I come from a small village. Yes, Argentina's a progressive country, but not my village. Not when my father was mayor and owned half of the land. Mom's family had the shoe factory. And I was the literally the only gay in the village, that's not just a cute phrase. And when I began to awaken sexually, it was really frustrating. All the boys my age were scared of me. My best friend, Lionel, he punched me in the face and told me to never look him up ever again when I told him. So I was kinda furious. I was so young too. My parents told me to cut it out, they started hooking me up with random pretty girls. So I began to behave like a flaming homosexual.”
He let out a laugh before a shocked Yoann.
“So yeah, I began to visit old man Diego. He was probably insane and stricken with grief over losing his wife and kids. So he'd let me suck him off. No woman would, you know and he had no money to pay hookers. And that was the last straw for my dad. He sent me here. Unbeknown to him that this is like gay paradise. Here I found acceptance, peers and as corny as it may sound, love. I don't ever want to leave.”
“Gosh.” came from Daniel.
They had paid him little to no attention, but he had been carefully listening to their conversation, focusing on each and every word in an attempt to not puke.
“Yeah. Licha's so bloody awesome. He's not an official, so I’m as much on the market as anyone else, but even the officials need to eat, so they mostly leave me alone. I just have to make sure I convince Mourinho to write that I'm far from cured in his reports to my folks. Life couldn't be better. Even the mining becomes OK, after a while.”
“Then I can only be happy for you.” Yoann shrugged. “Do you think Drogba might make a move soon?” he had to wonder, finally leaving his post by Daniel's side and climbing in his own bunk.
“It depends. If Zlatan claims you tomorrow, then you've got nothing to fear, because Didi ain't that stupid.”
“But that's not very certain.”
“It's not. You have the whole night to pray.” Javier snickered, switching off the lights.
In darkness and silence, Daniel felt a little better, safer, as if it was light and sound harming him. He tried to not think of what would happen the next day, instead counting his roommates' breaths as they had fallen asleep.
~*~
“So, there's no chance for me to have it easy, is there?” Gonzalo sighed.
“I guess not. Lisandro might take pity on you, but he doesn't have any real power, so I don't know if that'll be of any help. Besides, he's hopelessly smitten with Javier, your fellow Argentine.”
Gonzalo had yet to meet his compatriot and he already hated him. Even if the chef had been morose, his mere presence and the Argentine drawl had made him feel better. Less uprooted.
He didn't want to become anyone's bitch, little less Red's or Didier's. But as it stood, it wasn't like he had much of a choice.
“Say, everyone here is male, right, there's no women on the island?” he asked randomly, having it dawned on him.
“Well...there is one. They call her Petunia Skunk. She's mad, she used to be a guard too, or something like that. Some say she's Mourinho's sister, or cousin. She lost it around the same time a kid died, the only boy that died that we know of, his name escapes me now. She fled to the jungle and she's been living there ever since. You'll have to ask Thomas, really, he's the one that's been here longest.” Chicharito explained.
He had been the talkative one, David having sunken in a tragic silence after explaining the new roomie what had happened to him.
“Interesting.” Gonzalo replied, unable to think of anything else to say.
“Hey, lights out, you slimy bastards!” came a strong voice from outside.
Mark opened the door and hitting the switch, left the boys in darkness, so they realised they should go to sleep already.
He shook his head. So many new boys at once was surely going to cause trouble. He dragged his feet round the square formed by the 4 dorms, thinking of a way to get even with Bastian. It was going to be 5 more hours till his shift ended, so he had plenty of time.
Notes:
1. in no way is this fic supposed to be a dig at Catholicism. i mean no disrespect. it's just that it was the Rome Church that deemed The Cathars as heretics, so yeah, there was no way to not mention this in order to explain Jesus' allegiance.
2. The Cathars existed and were destroyed in the 13th century. more about them: here
3. As of chapter 6, all the characters in the fic are revealed. therefore, i declare mating season open. post your requests here: HERE