FIC UPDATE!
WHAT LOVE IS-PART II
By: Anisapologist
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Hayden and Ryan Philippe meet up at a party. Hayden is fighting some inner demons, and Ryan slowly falls in love with him.
Warnings: Self-mutilation, drug use, drinking, references to rape, violence, incest, major angst
Disclaimer: I don’t know these people, and none of this story is purported to be true. Hayden’s father is not a rapist, okay?
Hayden decides on Tuesday night for dinner, and arrives exactly on time at seven in the evening.
You retire to the living room and pretend to watch a movie, while stealing glances at Hayden.
Hayden, slightly drunk, at last turns his head to one side to stare into Ryan’s eyes, “You’re gorgeous…” he slurs in a whisper, and the sound of his voice goes straight to your groin.
“Christensen…” you half-say- half moan, leaning sideways to brush your lips against Hayden’s lightly.
Hearing Hayden whimper slightly, emboldens you, and you deepened the kiss, your tongue sliding into Hayden’s open mouth gently. It feels good…so good. You bring one hand up to cup his face lightly and he whimpers again, recline slightly back on the couch and bringing you with him.
You pause and just stare at him. He looks dazed. He snakes a pink tongue out to lick his lips and you feel yourself melting with arousal, “Hayden…” you moan and lean in to claim his mouth again in a hungry kiss, your hands reaching to unbutton his oxford shirt, but he stops you, stilling your hands with his own.
“I should go…” Hayden pulls out of the kiss suddenly and turns his head away looking flushed and…frightened.
You knit your eyebrows in confusion, “Why? What are you-fifteen? You don’t go past first base on a first date?”
Your words come out angrier then you had intended them to, and you instantly regretted the statement. You begin to apologise, but Hayden cuts you off coldly, “It wasn’t a date-and I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t going to fuck you.”
Whatever sympathy you had been feeling evaporated and you scowl at Hayden now, narrowing your eyes, “Whatever! You know what? I’m sick of your little games, Vader. First you kiss me at that party, then you tell him to get lost. You come to dinner, let me fondle you all night, kiss me, tell me I’m gorgeous-and then you don’t fuck? Are you confused or just insane?”
Hayden stares at you and realises what mixed messages he has been sending. He runs his hands through his hair nervously and looks down at the floor, “I’m sorry, you’re right-I have been sending you mixed signals. But, in all fairness, I did warn you that I’m fucked up. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going home now.”
You stand up, following Hayden towards the front door, “Don’t go, Hayden…” you say softly, just as your date reaches the front door and Hayden hesitates, “Please? We can just…talk. I promise. Please…I like you. Give me another chance?”
He just stood there, his back to you, for an indeterminate amount of time. Finally, you allow yourself a nervous laugh, “That’s good, Hayden…but if you are going to stay, I’d like you to actually face me at some point!”
Hayden had to smile at that. He blushes and turns around, giving you a shy look and leaning back against the door, “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I’m not…used to this. I don’t…date people very often.”
You give Hayden a perplexed look, “Why not? You’re beautiful. You must have men and women chasing you all the time.”
“If they are, I don’t notice, “ Hayden replies modestly, “I’m not…good with people. I…have a hard time with relationships.”
You smirk at him; “I can see that about you.”
Hayden gives you a shy smile in return, ducking his head.
You return to the living room and sit on the couch, just talking about everything and anything. Hayden is funny, thoughtful, insightful….much more intelligent then you ever gave him credit for.
At last, he stands up; “I do have to go now…I have an appointment with my agent early tomorrow morning.”
You stand up and walk slowly towards him, feeling him tense slightly as you do so.
“Can I kiss you goodbye?” you ask, feeling like you are in high school again.
Hayden nods, looking at you through long eyelashes.
Now you gently press your lips to Hayden’s, and the kiss is soft and wet and beautiful. Your tongues meet tentatively, then entwine as the kiss becomes hotter, rougher, and needier.
Hayden is making the most erotic noises in his throat that you have ever heard and it drives you mad with desire. Your hands find Hayden’s shirt again, and push under it, running hands over the boy’s smooth skin, pausing to pinch his nipples and stroke.
Hayden breaks the kiss then-as you had expected him too, “I really have to go this time.”
Ryan nods, reaching up to push a stray curl back behind Hayden’s right ear in a loving gesture, “Can I call you?”
“Yes…” Hayden groans, leaning down to kiss you again, finding your mouth intoxicating and addicting. He brought both palms up to cup either side of your flushed face, pushing his tongue into your willing mouth over and over again while you moaned and pressed against him wantonly.
“Oh God, Hayden!” you moan, breaking the kiss in frustration as you grow painfully hard in your pants, “Why? Why won’t you stay? Let me take you to bed? I know you want it…I can feel it….”
Hayden leans his forehead down onto yours closing his eyes. He looks so very tormented, “I want to…. I really do. But I just can’t, okay? Please, try to understand.”
You don’t understand-not at all. But you are willing to try to figure this beautiful boy out, “Okay,” you whisper in return, and then Hayden was gone.
When you call Hayden the next evening, he sounds surprised to hear from you, “I didn’t think you’d call,” he says shyly, and you can tell he’s smiling.
“I said I would,” you reply softly.
“Everyone says they will,” Hayden replies, sounding sad, “But then they don’t.”
“I did,” you remind him gently.
“Yeah…” he whispers fondly down the phone line, “You did.”
“Can I see you again?” you blurt out suddenly, needing to know where you stand.
“Yeah, sure. I’d like that.” Hayden replies in a way that makes you believe him, “But…not tomorrow. My friend, Justin Harris? He says he knows you…anyway, he’s coming over for dinner with his fiancé, and Tove is cooking and …I have to be there. I mean, I want to be there, of course….I just mean…I want to see you too….I mean…”
Hayden is becoming flustered and you take pity on him, cutting him off before he digs himself any deeper, “It’s okay, Hayden. I have plans tomorrow too-with my kids. How about Friday night? Same time, same place?”
You can tell he is smiling again when Hayden agrees.
You hang up and an idea occurs to you.
Justin Harris…
Justin Harris is an old friend of Hayden’s from Toronto. Now he is an assistant director, and you worked with him on “Crash”.
You decide to talk to him about Hayden, and maybe try to understand him better. You call him and invite him to lunch the next day, and he agrees.
You like Justin. You like him because he is rather obviously concerned with Hayden’s well being, and is a true friend to him--which is rare in Hollywood.
“So, Hayds tells me you and he are seeing each other,” Justin says quietly, in a conspiratorial tone, leaning forward at the table.
You spend nearly an hour explaining your interactions with Hayden and telling Justin how much you care for Hayden and just want to know him, help him if you can. Justin spends most of the lunch giving you blank, noncommittal looks.
“Can I ask you something?” you ask softly, and moving to sit next to Justin in the booth so you can whisper.
He eyes you suspiciously, “Okay…” he says, unsure.
“You’ve known Christensen a while, huh?”
“I grew up with him, yeah-I think I do know him better than you do!” Justin smiles at you with a lopsided grin, then the grin fades and you can see that Justin is remembering something, “Seriously, though…Hayden’s great, and I can see that you care about him, but…” his voice trails off, and you pounce.
“What? Tell me, please?” you plead with him.
Justin takes a deep breath and looks at you, “He just…his family, I don’t know…. his father was a real bastard when he was growing up. He hit him…I mean, a lot. And I’m not talking about slap-I mean, he used Hayden as a fuckin’ punching bag. He used to come to school with fat lips, black eyes, bruised ribs-you name it. Once or twice he ended up in the hospital…I think that’s why Tove is still so protective of him, you know? He watched it, saw what Hayden went through…. he was always intervening, trying to protect Hayden and pulling his dad off of Hayden when he was beating the shit out of him….their mom never did a thing to stop it. She knew if she got involved, he just beat her too. Tove was the only one who ever stood up for Hayden…it was sad. That family was…so many levels of dysfunctional…”
“Jesus…” you mutter, shaking your head.
“So, Hayden’s pretty…messed up. I mean, you can’t blame him after what he went through, you know?” Justin concludes simply, “So, you just have to…ummm. Take it real slow with him. He has, like major trust issues, as you can probably imagine…”
“Yeah, I guess…. did his dad hurt the other kids too-or just Hayden?”
Justin shrugs, “Not sure. I don’t think he did it to the other ones. Hayden told me though that he hit his mom a lot…but Tove and the sisters? Nah…I think he just…he seemed to really hate Hayden. It was…really sad.”
Justin stares at you for a moment like he is trying to decide if he should go on and tell you more, or stop. You stare back and then say, very quietly, “Tell me, Justin…please?”
Justin sighs and takes a deep breath, and he must have decided he trusts you now-or at least that you have Hayden’s best interests at heart.
“There were other things too, Ryan-things Hayden doesn’t even know that I know…”
Your eyes flicker with curiosity, and a thirst for more knowledge, as horrible as that knowledge may be, “Tell me…” you repeat.
Justin looks uncertain.
“Please?”
Justin takes a gulp of his water and a deep breath, “Promise me that you won’t ever tell him that I told you this?”
“I promise,” you reply instantly.
“We were in high school-junior year, I think…I went over their place one night. It was Hayden’s birthday, and I wanted to take him out because he, like, never did anything for his birthday. I didn’t call first, just turned up. I was always over there, and was like part of the furniture-I never knocked anymore….so I walked in and called out for Hayden, and got no answer. But I knew he was home because the light was on in his bedroom, and if you knew his dad, well…you NEVER left lights on if you weren’t using them unless you wanted to get an ass-kicking…so I walk up the stairs to his room, and I hear something weird, so I stop…it sounded like a moan or a cry…I stop outside Hayden’s room, look in and…..”
You swallow because you have a terrible feeling that you know exactly where this is going, and maybe you really don’t want to know, but now its too late.
“I saw Hayden and his dad…on Hayden’s bed. His dad was….on top of him, you know?” Justin looks away, literally shuddering at the memory, “He was…with Hayden, you know? Don’t make me say it…” Justin goes pale and looks stricken, and you wonder if this is the first time he has ever said this to anyone.
You reach out and clasp Justin’s shoulder reassuringly, “I understand. You don’t have to…to say anymore…”
After a minute of silence, you realise that Justin is crying, and you feel awful, “I should’ve done something! I should’ve…I don’t know! Gone in there and pulled him off Hayden or…called the police…or something! But I didn’t…I just stared at it, and couldn’t move. And then, when I could move again-I just took off out of the house, and tried to pretend that I never saw it.”
“You never told Hayden what you saw?” you ask, “Never asked him about it?”
“I wanted to… so many times. He was so sad and fragile, and I thought I knew why, but I couldn’t…ask. I couldn’t tell him that I knew-and there was no way Hayden was going to volunteer the information…I have no idea how long it was going on for…I only saw it that one time. “ Justin sighs and leans back against the back of the seat, closing his eyes, and trying to calm himself.
You feel bile rising in the back of your throat and force yourself to breathe deeply and slowly, feeling as if you might throw up.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper-and you are sorry to know all of this, and to make Justin say it. But at least now everything makes a great deal more sense.
Justin shakes his head, realising he has said too much-far too much.
“Ryan, don’t tell Hayden I told you, please?” he says pleadingly.
You embrace Justin and nod against his shoulder silently.
Hayden is high when he arrives at your place for dinner the next night. Ice, you guess…or maybe coke or E…you don’t really care-you choose to ignore it.
Dinner is pleasant enough, but Hayden is distant, jumpy. You tell yourself it is the drugs that are making him act that way, not you.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” you ask as you clear away the dinner plates.
“Is that code for ‘Do you want to make out with me?’” Hayden asks sarcastically, and stands and walks into the living room.
You take a deep breath and ignore the jibe, joining him on the couch.
A while later, you are kissing him gently and he is letting you, whimpering against your lips and it feels so good, and you are about to lose yourself in the kiss when you reach out and brush against Hayden’s left arm by accident-and he jumps, as if in pain, pulling his arm away.
You pull back stare at him, confused. Then, realisation. You reach for his arm silently, and he tries to prevent you from looking, but you push the arm of his sweater up and see the evidence of his latest round of self-mutilation.
He whimpers when you make a face of disgust and pulls his arm away, “Don’t,” he says harshly, pulling the sweater back down.
“Why do you cut yourself, Hayden?” you ask simply, sadly.
Hayden looks at you, narrowing his eyes in contempt, “Why do you pretend to care?”
“I do care!” you reply, exasperated by his evasiveness.
Hayden sighs loudly and puts down his fork, “You think you know me, but you have no idea, you know that?” he says aggressively.
“I know you’re in pain…” you say gently, eyeing him.
Hayden laughs at his plate and rolls his eyes.
“I know Adam loves you-and you’re hurting him. I know Tove cares about you, and you’re hurting him too.”
Hayden is effected by what you have said-you see him swallow hard-but his face remains neutral, “Why are you doing this?” he hisses at last, his voice shaking slightly with emotion he doesn’t want to show, “Is it just because you want to fuck me, or do you have some pathetic urge to help losers?”
His words make you wince. It makes you sad to think that Hayden thinks of himself as a loser, “You’re not a loser, Hayden!” you whisper harshly.
“I am! You have no idea how fucked up I am-how fucked up my life is!” Hayden promises you.
“I care about you. And you’re right-I don’t know you very well. But I know you a bit, and I like what I know-I’d like to help you.”
“You can’t help me!” Hayden says quickly-and his voice sounds sad and wistful at the same time.
“You’re so sure of that?” you say sadly.
“Yeah, I am.” Hayden replies firmly, meeting your eyes for emphasis, “Can I go now?”
Without waiting for your reply, Hayden turns to leave and makes it as far as the doorway before you decide its now or never and lay everything on the line.
“I know, Hayden!” Ryan blurted out suddenly, and it stopped Hayden in his tracks.
“What? What do you think you know?” he challenges
You give him a sad look, “I know about your father, Hayden…what he did to you. What you went through. I know how it messed you up….”
Hayden just stares at you impassively, “Who told you?” he says calmly, not bothering to deny any of it.
“It doesn’t matter,”
“Justin, right? He told me he met you for lunch…” Hayden says knowingly, rolling his eyes, “I’m gonna fucking KILL him!”
You explode with anger, though you don’t mean to, “Don’t blame Justin-I made him tell me. And he made me promise not to tell you what he said. He loves you, Hayden. He was just..trying to help. Why didn’t you tell me, Hayden?”
Hayden shakes his head slowly and looks away.
“I never told anyone,” Hayden replies very softly, almost inaudibly, “Justin only knew because he was there sometimes when my dad would…freak out. I never talked about it with anyone. I just…couldn’t.”
You sigh and rub the back of your neck in resignation, “Well…maybe you should try. Because I think it might help you if you did.”
“How?” Hayden asks defiantly, sneering at you, “How will it help to talk about it? About all the shit I went through? It won’t change anything! Won’t do a fucking thing for me! What do you want to know? That my first memory is of my father beating the shit out of me for spilling a glass of milk? Or that I watched him…beat my mother at least once a week over the stupidest little things? Or that he beat me up when I didn’t get A’s in school, or when my ice hockey team lost a game….or do you want to hear about that time that he broke three of my ribs and I ended up at the hospital because he found me kissing my boyfriend in our living room, and he didn’t want me to be gay, so he thought maybe if he just hit me hard enough, I would be straight?”
You shake your head, “God, Hayden…” is all you can say.
“Wanna hear something really fucked up?” Hayden asks sarcastically,” When I was little, my father used to punish me by locking me in the basement. It was dark and cold there, even in the summer, and I hated it. When he’d lock me down there-which was pretty often because I was a really bad little kid-and I would get so scared that I wouldn’t be able to breathe…and if I cried, he would come down there and beat me until ….until I stopped. That happened a lot…at least once a month, and sometimes, I swear-I didn’t even know what I did wrong…I would ask him, and he would just hit me again, and throw me down there. After a while, I stopped asking, and just figured that it didn’t matter what I did. I just couldn’t please him.”
Hayden stops talking now, choking on his own tears and so hysterical he can barely stand up. He slides slowly to the ground and puts his head in his hands, “There! I talked about it, and you know what? I don’t feel better! So, fuck you!”
You realise that Hayden is not going to tell you about the sexual abuse. Why would he? Hayden did not know that Justin knew, so he thought you didn’t know, either.
“What about the rest, Hayden-are you going to talk about what else he did to you?” you ask slowly, calmly.
Hayden looks at you blankly, “What? What are you talking about-what else?”
You decide to be blunt since it is obvious to you that Hayden will not take the hint.
“How many times did he rape you, Hayden?” you ask, your voice flat, staring at the floor, unable to look at him as you say the words.
Hayden looks at you in horror, unable to respond. He stutters and goes silent for a long time, and then, “How…? What are you talking about? Who…?”
You get up and go to him as he begins to shake uncontrollably, “Hayden, its okay…” you reach out to embrace him, but he shrinks away in terror and anger.
“Get away from me!” he screams, looking like a caged and frightened animal, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
You back away slightly, giving him space, “Hayden…please…”
“How do you know about that?” he asks at last, his voice raw and hoarse.
“I just know.” You reply.
Hayden’s eyes fall closed in resignation. He doesn’t bother with denials; he just looks so…defeated and drained. As if he has spent so much time and energy denying these facts that he no longer has the strength for anything but tears.
“Please talk to me, Hayden,” you beg.
Slowly, he shakes his head, tears dripping down his face, “I can’t..do this with you right now,” he says simply, and gets up and walks out of the room. You decide it’s best not to follow him, and just wait for him to come to you.
A few hours later, you are still up, sitting watching TV, when Hayden enters the room silently, not even looking at you as he passes by. He goes to the opposite couch and sits there, biting his fingernails, looking like a little boy. He begins slowly and quietly, and you have to lean forward to hear him.
“I don’t remember when it started…it seemed to always be that way…ever since…ever since I can remember. I have this really clear memory of being, about ten, I guess…and being naked in bed with him. He was touching me…I didn’t know what he was doing. I just knew it felt good, but…I knew it was wrong. I cried…I told him to stop, but… He slept with me from the time I was very young…and he kept doing it until I moved out. A few times a month-sometimes more, sometimes less. I never knew when or why…he would just show up in my room when everyone else was out, or in the middle of the night. I never fought him. I was twelve the first time we had sex. He gave me a blowjob, and…I came…then he told me to lay back and he fucked me, face to face. It hurt so much…like being torn in half. But I remember him petting my face and wiping away my tears and telling me to be very quiet….so I was. I just..let him rape me. He came inside me and held me close and he told me that he loved me, that I was special, and that what we were doing was special….I wanted to believe him….I just cried. I knew that wasn’t love…”
You nod slowly, “It wasn’t your fault-there was nothing you could have done, Hayden. You know that, right? You were…just a child….”
You feel sick, and can’t comprehend men doing this to their own son. Your heart aches for Hayden in a way that it has never ached for anyone else.
Hayden ignores you completely, and continues, staring into space, as if in a trance.
“I remember being too young to know what was happening when it started, what he was doing…I didn’t know anything about sex yet…but I knew what he was doing was wrong. It just felt so wrong. And…it hurt…I always felt so…dirty after. He would always blame after…tell me it was my fault-that I made him want me. I hated myself…I was so ashamed. but after a while, I knew I must be a real sick fuck because there was part of me that wanted it, part of me that…craved it. I know how that sounds but….its just that…when he…made love to me…that was the only time he ever-EVER-showed me any affection….it was the only time he touched me at all, and the only time he ever told me….he loved me….so I started to want it just so I could feel close to him for a little while…how sick is that?”
He is crying now-tears streaming down his face. You want to reach for him, to hold him…but you sense that he won’t be able to handle that right now. He is trembling and starkly pale. You wonder, briefly, if he has ever spoken these words out loud before tonight….
“Why didn’t you tell someone-anyone?” you ask in anguish, trying to imagine the hell that Hayden must have lived in for so many years.
Hayden looks at you sadly. He draws his knees up to his chest and rests his forehead against his knees and cries for a long time before going on.
“I didn’t know how…it was the same as the beatings. I figured I deserved it, asked for it, somehow. I didn’t think anyone would help me or that anyone would care. And, I mean, he was my father…it would have destroyed my whole family…. I didn’t want to hurt my mom or my sisters…or Tove.”
“No one knew? No one…suspected anything?” you ask, still trying to get your head around what Hayden is admitting too.
“Tove knew,” Hayden says flatly, “We’ve never spoken about it, but I know he knows. I don’t know when he figured it out, but… The way he looks at me sometimes, like he’s going to cry or something…I know he knows…but I just can’t…talk to him about it. I want to sometimes, but…I don’t know how…”
He seems so fragile, and so much younger than his twenty-five years of age. You try to regain your emotional balance.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” you whisper after a few moments of silence.
Emboldened, you go on, “When I met you-at Skywalker ranch? -You seemed so…
I had the feeling something was really bad in your life, and I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t know..how…” your voice trails off as you lose yourself in the memory.
You feel Hayden flinch at the statement, “That was just…a really bad time for me. I’d just told my dad I wasn’t going to college a few days before I got the call to come to the ranch. He…beat the shit out of me. Tove had to call the police to make him stop…”
Hayden’s voice trails off and you can tell that he is lost in a horrible memory.
“I don’t know if you remember at all, but I had these bruises all over me,” he continues.
You nod because you do remember, vaguely, “I remember…”
“I told everyone they were from skateboarding and ice hockey…they weren’t. Anyway…I was a mess that weekend. I couldn’t believe I got the role…” Hayden laughs humourlessly.
“You just seemed…I don’t know…scared? Sad? Shy? I couldn’t understand why…I mean, you were gorgeous. Tove kept telling me to leave you alone…it makes more sense now, I guess…”
“So…now you know.” Hayden says flatly.
You nod, distracted.
“Do I disgust you?” he asks, his voice shaking.
“Oh God, Hayden!” you groan and embrace him tightly against your chest, “Nothing you could ever do would disgust me-especially not this! It wasn’t your fault!”
Hayden dissolves in tears against you, clutching at your shirt as he soaks it with tears. He cries until he has no tears left, and then he sleeps against you, exhausted and spent. He doesn’t even stir when you carry him to your bedroom and put him to bed, then get into bed beside him, both of you fully clothed.
You watch him sleep and cry for him softly, until your own eyes fall closed.
You awaken a few hours later and Hayden is laying beside you, staring at you. His eyes are soft and sad, and you simply stare back, unsure of what to do or say. After a few long awkward moments, Hayden smiles slightly and leans forward, placing a gentle, chaste kiss to your lips, and then nuzzling slightly against your jaw line.
You want him so badly that it hurts, but you don’t want to scare him. You let him take the lead, allowing him to draw your body close against his and kiss you again, more deeply this time.
You can feel him shaking as you press your body gently to his. He whimpers like a small animal caught in a trap, and you nuzzle against his neck lovingly, “Tell me what you want, Hayden…” you whisper.
“You…” he breathes out shakily, “I want to…make love…with you.”
You smile slightly and look into his eyes, “Are you certain?” you ask him and he nods, obviously frightened but also very willing.
You roll him slowly onto his back and look down at him, “You’re so beautiful,” you tell him earnestly, and then kiss him slowly, your tongue entwining with his for what feels like an eternity.
You undress him slowly, kissing his skin and nuzzling against his chest as he moans, and runs his hands through your hair. When you are both nude, you slowly lay on top of his perfect body, kissing his pouting lips gently, pushing your tongue into his mouth repeatedly, and tasting him as he whimpers.
“You’re beautiful,” you tell him over and over again between kisses, and he arches against you, crying out softly.
“No, not beautiful…” he says, closing his eyes tightly against your words.
You run your hands up and down his sides and feel him begin to tremble under your fingertips. A thought occurs to you, so you pull back slightly and rest your forehead against his
“Have you ever…done this?” you ask gently, “I mean, besides with…him?”
You pull back and search his face for answers.
Hayden can’t look at you, and his eyes dance all around the room as they fill with tears. He is trembling and unable relax under you, “No…” he admits softly, looking embarrassed and frightened. He bites his lip and swallows thickly, forcing himself to look at you, “I’ve tried, but I always…freak out, and I can’t…but…I want too. I do…I want to do this with you…want you to be my…first? Please?”
He is squirming under you, his face blushing with embarrassment.
“God…you must think I’m so fucking pathetic!” he whines sadly, tears slipping from his eyes again.
You feel as if your heart is breaking as you watch him fall apart, and you reach out to run the back of your left hand down his perfect, boyish face, “I’d be honoured to be your first, Hayden. Its okay…it’s all right, Hayden…relax. Relax for me. I won’t hurt you, I promise…I would never hurt you.”
You slowly lower your lips to his neck, and place soft kisses there, as he mews, and tentatively places his hands on your shoulders, still shaking, on the verge of panic, “I don’t know what to do, really…” he admits softly, sounding desperate, “I always just…laid there and let him…I don’t know how to…I’m sorry…”
You can feel his whole body heaving beneath yours and he is close to losing control.
You pull back so that Hayden won’t completely lose control. You lay next to him and just barely stroke the skin on his taut stomach lightly, “Shhhh, Hayden…it doesn’t matter…we’ll go slowly, okay?” you soothe him gently.
Hayden looks at you hopefully, “Will you…hold me? Please?” he asks pathetically, and you smile and embrace him gently.
Slowly, he relaxes into your arms, pressing warm lips to your neck, not quite kissing, just pressing them there and sighing, “Ryan…” he moans quietly against your skin, calming down slowly.
You stroke up and down his back reassuringly, just holding him and doing nothing more, letting him control the pace of things.
“I’m so scared…” Hayden whimpers, and you cannot believe his innocence, his complete lack of experience…his sweetness, “Please? Show me what to do…how to…make love…” he is crying again now, and unable to speak any longer.
You just hold him and try your best to sooth him, calm him.
“Just…lay with me, Hayden. We don’t have to do anything right now…just let me lay here with you and hold you and kiss you-that’s all. That’s all I need from you right now…”
Hayden looks at you disbelieving your words, “I’m sorry…” he whispers and turns his body away, looking out the window at the view of the ocean.
You kiss his back lightly, “Don’t be, Christensen. I just want to go slow-show you how beautiful it can be-with the right person.”
Hayden looks back at you briefly, before looking away again, at the ocean, “I’m so fucked up,” he says very softly.
Hayden continues to stare at the sea, “You must think I’m such a freak….twenty five and only ever slept with my father…I don’t know what I’m doing…I can’t…make you pleasure you. I’m sorry-I must be such a disappointment to you…you waited all these years to have Vader-and this is how I am!” he laughs bitterly, curling into the foetal position beside you.
Your heart aches for him as he says these words, so full of self-loathing and pain.
“Oh Hayden,” you whisper, “Let me help you…please? Let me in…”
For a long time there is only silence and you are sure that Hayden is going to get up and leave, but then he turns to you, just staring for a moment before practically throwing himself against you and kissing you so passionately, it takes your breath away.
The kissing is full of emotion, full of pain and sweetness and hope and fear…you kiss and kiss and kiss forever….
At last you roll on top of him and pull back. You stare into one another’s eyes steadily. Instinctively, Hayden spreads his thighs under you, and you cannot stifle the moan that escapes your lips.
“Are you ready? You ask softly, reaching for the lube bottle, and Hayden smiles that gorgeous smile of his, nodding.
“Please…” he groans, spreading his thighs even more, offering himself. He looks amazing-so open and wanton, and yet still so innocent and sweet-it is an intoxicating mix, and it overwhelms you as you slowly, gently, push forward and encase yourself in his heat.
“Oh,” you groan unexpectedly at the tightness, the perfection of his body. You stare down at this perfect, wounded creature beneath you, and wonder how anyone could ever hurt something so vulnerable and precious. You close your eyes and feel emotions coursing through your body and mind, and when you open your eyes again, Hayden is staring up at you with a look of total trust and devotion, “Hayden…” you grunt, sliding all the way to the hilt.
For a long time, you remain just like that-perfectly still and joined together, staring into one another’s eyes.
“I love you,” Hayden whimpers at last, sounding so innocent and young, and your heart feels so full, it just might burst with love.
“I love you too, Hayden,” you whisper harshly, trying not to thrust but needing to so very badly.
Hayden wraps long legs around your waist, and pulls you ever closer, “Love me…love me with your body, Ryan-please?”
His words are nearly enough to make you come, and you buck against him a bit too roughly, unable to control yourself, “I’m sorry,” you say quickly, but Hayden only smiles up at you lazily, “I don’t want to hurt you…” you say firmly.
“Then don’t stop…please don’t ever stop…” Hayden says in a voice that speaks of a need as great-perhaps greater-then your own.
You begin to move now.
This isn’t sex. This is truly making love. You throw your head back as you both find a rhythm, and begin to move as one.
Hayden is lost beneath you in ecstasy, moaning and crying out and arching against you in desperate search for ever greater contact with your body.
“Never knew…never knew it could be like this…so good…so..beautiful..” he whimpers in wonder, turns his head to one side, a single tear escaping his eyes and sliding down his cheek, “So good with you…love you, need you…need this…so much…please don’t stop…” he is panting the words as the passion grows between the two of you, and you feel that you won’t be able to last much longer.
“You feel so good!” you groan at his entreaties, thrusting fully now, unable to hold back any longer, needing to come, “I want to come inside you so bad, Hayden… Can I come in you?” you grunt, desperate, slamming against him now, and so very close…
Hayden turns his head back, and stares up into your eyes lovingly, and trusting, he groans,“Yeah, baby…you can.…want you to..come inside me…”
“Oh, Christ! Hayden! You’re so fucking beautiful!” you shout as you crest and come deeply within him, your hips spasming wildly as you empty yourself, lost in a sea of ecstasy, “Oh, I’m coming…I’m coming in you, baby…I love you!”
Your body is tensed and taut and your head is thrown back as you stare at the ceiling, feeling yourself spurt inside Hayden’s body and feeling Hayden explode between your taut bellies, pressed closely together, covering both of you in his liquid heat.
You are vaguely aware that he is screaming your name as he comes, and then there is nothing…only blackness as you collapse against him.
TBC….
By: Anisapologist
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Hayden and Ryan Philippe meet up at a party. Hayden is fighting some inner demons, and Ryan slowly falls in love with him.
Warnings: Self-mutilation, drug use, drinking, references to rape, violence, incest, major angst
Disclaimer: I don’t know these people, and none of this story is purported to be true. Hayden’s father is not a rapist, okay?
Hayden decides on Tuesday night for dinner, and arrives exactly on time at seven in the evening.
You retire to the living room and pretend to watch a movie, while stealing glances at Hayden.
Hayden, slightly drunk, at last turns his head to one side to stare into Ryan’s eyes, “You’re gorgeous…” he slurs in a whisper, and the sound of his voice goes straight to your groin.
“Christensen…” you half-say- half moan, leaning sideways to brush your lips against Hayden’s lightly.
Hearing Hayden whimper slightly, emboldens you, and you deepened the kiss, your tongue sliding into Hayden’s open mouth gently. It feels good…so good. You bring one hand up to cup his face lightly and he whimpers again, recline slightly back on the couch and bringing you with him.
You pause and just stare at him. He looks dazed. He snakes a pink tongue out to lick his lips and you feel yourself melting with arousal, “Hayden…” you moan and lean in to claim his mouth again in a hungry kiss, your hands reaching to unbutton his oxford shirt, but he stops you, stilling your hands with his own.
“I should go…” Hayden pulls out of the kiss suddenly and turns his head away looking flushed and…frightened.
You knit your eyebrows in confusion, “Why? What are you-fifteen? You don’t go past first base on a first date?”
Your words come out angrier then you had intended them to, and you instantly regretted the statement. You begin to apologise, but Hayden cuts you off coldly, “It wasn’t a date-and I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t going to fuck you.”
Whatever sympathy you had been feeling evaporated and you scowl at Hayden now, narrowing your eyes, “Whatever! You know what? I’m sick of your little games, Vader. First you kiss me at that party, then you tell him to get lost. You come to dinner, let me fondle you all night, kiss me, tell me I’m gorgeous-and then you don’t fuck? Are you confused or just insane?”
Hayden stares at you and realises what mixed messages he has been sending. He runs his hands through his hair nervously and looks down at the floor, “I’m sorry, you’re right-I have been sending you mixed signals. But, in all fairness, I did warn you that I’m fucked up. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going home now.”
You stand up, following Hayden towards the front door, “Don’t go, Hayden…” you say softly, just as your date reaches the front door and Hayden hesitates, “Please? We can just…talk. I promise. Please…I like you. Give me another chance?”
He just stood there, his back to you, for an indeterminate amount of time. Finally, you allow yourself a nervous laugh, “That’s good, Hayden…but if you are going to stay, I’d like you to actually face me at some point!”
Hayden had to smile at that. He blushes and turns around, giving you a shy look and leaning back against the door, “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I’m not…used to this. I don’t…date people very often.”
You give Hayden a perplexed look, “Why not? You’re beautiful. You must have men and women chasing you all the time.”
“If they are, I don’t notice, “ Hayden replies modestly, “I’m not…good with people. I…have a hard time with relationships.”
You smirk at him; “I can see that about you.”
Hayden gives you a shy smile in return, ducking his head.
You return to the living room and sit on the couch, just talking about everything and anything. Hayden is funny, thoughtful, insightful….much more intelligent then you ever gave him credit for.
At last, he stands up; “I do have to go now…I have an appointment with my agent early tomorrow morning.”
You stand up and walk slowly towards him, feeling him tense slightly as you do so.
“Can I kiss you goodbye?” you ask, feeling like you are in high school again.
Hayden nods, looking at you through long eyelashes.
Now you gently press your lips to Hayden’s, and the kiss is soft and wet and beautiful. Your tongues meet tentatively, then entwine as the kiss becomes hotter, rougher, and needier.
Hayden is making the most erotic noises in his throat that you have ever heard and it drives you mad with desire. Your hands find Hayden’s shirt again, and push under it, running hands over the boy’s smooth skin, pausing to pinch his nipples and stroke.
Hayden breaks the kiss then-as you had expected him too, “I really have to go this time.”
Ryan nods, reaching up to push a stray curl back behind Hayden’s right ear in a loving gesture, “Can I call you?”
“Yes…” Hayden groans, leaning down to kiss you again, finding your mouth intoxicating and addicting. He brought both palms up to cup either side of your flushed face, pushing his tongue into your willing mouth over and over again while you moaned and pressed against him wantonly.
“Oh God, Hayden!” you moan, breaking the kiss in frustration as you grow painfully hard in your pants, “Why? Why won’t you stay? Let me take you to bed? I know you want it…I can feel it….”
Hayden leans his forehead down onto yours closing his eyes. He looks so very tormented, “I want to…. I really do. But I just can’t, okay? Please, try to understand.”
You don’t understand-not at all. But you are willing to try to figure this beautiful boy out, “Okay,” you whisper in return, and then Hayden was gone.
When you call Hayden the next evening, he sounds surprised to hear from you, “I didn’t think you’d call,” he says shyly, and you can tell he’s smiling.
“I said I would,” you reply softly.
“Everyone says they will,” Hayden replies, sounding sad, “But then they don’t.”
“I did,” you remind him gently.
“Yeah…” he whispers fondly down the phone line, “You did.”
“Can I see you again?” you blurt out suddenly, needing to know where you stand.
“Yeah, sure. I’d like that.” Hayden replies in a way that makes you believe him, “But…not tomorrow. My friend, Justin Harris? He says he knows you…anyway, he’s coming over for dinner with his fiancé, and Tove is cooking and …I have to be there. I mean, I want to be there, of course….I just mean…I want to see you too….I mean…”
Hayden is becoming flustered and you take pity on him, cutting him off before he digs himself any deeper, “It’s okay, Hayden. I have plans tomorrow too-with my kids. How about Friday night? Same time, same place?”
You can tell he is smiling again when Hayden agrees.
You hang up and an idea occurs to you.
Justin Harris…
Justin Harris is an old friend of Hayden’s from Toronto. Now he is an assistant director, and you worked with him on “Crash”.
You decide to talk to him about Hayden, and maybe try to understand him better. You call him and invite him to lunch the next day, and he agrees.
You like Justin. You like him because he is rather obviously concerned with Hayden’s well being, and is a true friend to him--which is rare in Hollywood.
“So, Hayds tells me you and he are seeing each other,” Justin says quietly, in a conspiratorial tone, leaning forward at the table.
You spend nearly an hour explaining your interactions with Hayden and telling Justin how much you care for Hayden and just want to know him, help him if you can. Justin spends most of the lunch giving you blank, noncommittal looks.
“Can I ask you something?” you ask softly, and moving to sit next to Justin in the booth so you can whisper.
He eyes you suspiciously, “Okay…” he says, unsure.
“You’ve known Christensen a while, huh?”
“I grew up with him, yeah-I think I do know him better than you do!” Justin smiles at you with a lopsided grin, then the grin fades and you can see that Justin is remembering something, “Seriously, though…Hayden’s great, and I can see that you care about him, but…” his voice trails off, and you pounce.
“What? Tell me, please?” you plead with him.
Justin takes a deep breath and looks at you, “He just…his family, I don’t know…. his father was a real bastard when he was growing up. He hit him…I mean, a lot. And I’m not talking about slap-I mean, he used Hayden as a fuckin’ punching bag. He used to come to school with fat lips, black eyes, bruised ribs-you name it. Once or twice he ended up in the hospital…I think that’s why Tove is still so protective of him, you know? He watched it, saw what Hayden went through…. he was always intervening, trying to protect Hayden and pulling his dad off of Hayden when he was beating the shit out of him….their mom never did a thing to stop it. She knew if she got involved, he just beat her too. Tove was the only one who ever stood up for Hayden…it was sad. That family was…so many levels of dysfunctional…”
“Jesus…” you mutter, shaking your head.
“So, Hayden’s pretty…messed up. I mean, you can’t blame him after what he went through, you know?” Justin concludes simply, “So, you just have to…ummm. Take it real slow with him. He has, like major trust issues, as you can probably imagine…”
“Yeah, I guess…. did his dad hurt the other kids too-or just Hayden?”
Justin shrugs, “Not sure. I don’t think he did it to the other ones. Hayden told me though that he hit his mom a lot…but Tove and the sisters? Nah…I think he just…he seemed to really hate Hayden. It was…really sad.”
Justin stares at you for a moment like he is trying to decide if he should go on and tell you more, or stop. You stare back and then say, very quietly, “Tell me, Justin…please?”
Justin sighs and takes a deep breath, and he must have decided he trusts you now-or at least that you have Hayden’s best interests at heart.
“There were other things too, Ryan-things Hayden doesn’t even know that I know…”
Your eyes flicker with curiosity, and a thirst for more knowledge, as horrible as that knowledge may be, “Tell me…” you repeat.
Justin looks uncertain.
“Please?”
Justin takes a gulp of his water and a deep breath, “Promise me that you won’t ever tell him that I told you this?”
“I promise,” you reply instantly.
“We were in high school-junior year, I think…I went over their place one night. It was Hayden’s birthday, and I wanted to take him out because he, like, never did anything for his birthday. I didn’t call first, just turned up. I was always over there, and was like part of the furniture-I never knocked anymore….so I walked in and called out for Hayden, and got no answer. But I knew he was home because the light was on in his bedroom, and if you knew his dad, well…you NEVER left lights on if you weren’t using them unless you wanted to get an ass-kicking…so I walk up the stairs to his room, and I hear something weird, so I stop…it sounded like a moan or a cry…I stop outside Hayden’s room, look in and…..”
You swallow because you have a terrible feeling that you know exactly where this is going, and maybe you really don’t want to know, but now its too late.
“I saw Hayden and his dad…on Hayden’s bed. His dad was….on top of him, you know?” Justin looks away, literally shuddering at the memory, “He was…with Hayden, you know? Don’t make me say it…” Justin goes pale and looks stricken, and you wonder if this is the first time he has ever said this to anyone.
You reach out and clasp Justin’s shoulder reassuringly, “I understand. You don’t have to…to say anymore…”
After a minute of silence, you realise that Justin is crying, and you feel awful, “I should’ve done something! I should’ve…I don’t know! Gone in there and pulled him off Hayden or…called the police…or something! But I didn’t…I just stared at it, and couldn’t move. And then, when I could move again-I just took off out of the house, and tried to pretend that I never saw it.”
“You never told Hayden what you saw?” you ask, “Never asked him about it?”
“I wanted to… so many times. He was so sad and fragile, and I thought I knew why, but I couldn’t…ask. I couldn’t tell him that I knew-and there was no way Hayden was going to volunteer the information…I have no idea how long it was going on for…I only saw it that one time. “ Justin sighs and leans back against the back of the seat, closing his eyes, and trying to calm himself.
You feel bile rising in the back of your throat and force yourself to breathe deeply and slowly, feeling as if you might throw up.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper-and you are sorry to know all of this, and to make Justin say it. But at least now everything makes a great deal more sense.
Justin shakes his head, realising he has said too much-far too much.
“Ryan, don’t tell Hayden I told you, please?” he says pleadingly.
You embrace Justin and nod against his shoulder silently.
Hayden is high when he arrives at your place for dinner the next night. Ice, you guess…or maybe coke or E…you don’t really care-you choose to ignore it.
Dinner is pleasant enough, but Hayden is distant, jumpy. You tell yourself it is the drugs that are making him act that way, not you.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” you ask as you clear away the dinner plates.
“Is that code for ‘Do you want to make out with me?’” Hayden asks sarcastically, and stands and walks into the living room.
You take a deep breath and ignore the jibe, joining him on the couch.
A while later, you are kissing him gently and he is letting you, whimpering against your lips and it feels so good, and you are about to lose yourself in the kiss when you reach out and brush against Hayden’s left arm by accident-and he jumps, as if in pain, pulling his arm away.
You pull back stare at him, confused. Then, realisation. You reach for his arm silently, and he tries to prevent you from looking, but you push the arm of his sweater up and see the evidence of his latest round of self-mutilation.
He whimpers when you make a face of disgust and pulls his arm away, “Don’t,” he says harshly, pulling the sweater back down.
“Why do you cut yourself, Hayden?” you ask simply, sadly.
Hayden looks at you, narrowing his eyes in contempt, “Why do you pretend to care?”
“I do care!” you reply, exasperated by his evasiveness.
Hayden sighs loudly and puts down his fork, “You think you know me, but you have no idea, you know that?” he says aggressively.
“I know you’re in pain…” you say gently, eyeing him.
Hayden laughs at his plate and rolls his eyes.
“I know Adam loves you-and you’re hurting him. I know Tove cares about you, and you’re hurting him too.”
Hayden is effected by what you have said-you see him swallow hard-but his face remains neutral, “Why are you doing this?” he hisses at last, his voice shaking slightly with emotion he doesn’t want to show, “Is it just because you want to fuck me, or do you have some pathetic urge to help losers?”
His words make you wince. It makes you sad to think that Hayden thinks of himself as a loser, “You’re not a loser, Hayden!” you whisper harshly.
“I am! You have no idea how fucked up I am-how fucked up my life is!” Hayden promises you.
“I care about you. And you’re right-I don’t know you very well. But I know you a bit, and I like what I know-I’d like to help you.”
“You can’t help me!” Hayden says quickly-and his voice sounds sad and wistful at the same time.
“You’re so sure of that?” you say sadly.
“Yeah, I am.” Hayden replies firmly, meeting your eyes for emphasis, “Can I go now?”
Without waiting for your reply, Hayden turns to leave and makes it as far as the doorway before you decide its now or never and lay everything on the line.
“I know, Hayden!” Ryan blurted out suddenly, and it stopped Hayden in his tracks.
“What? What do you think you know?” he challenges
You give him a sad look, “I know about your father, Hayden…what he did to you. What you went through. I know how it messed you up….”
Hayden just stares at you impassively, “Who told you?” he says calmly, not bothering to deny any of it.
“It doesn’t matter,”
“Justin, right? He told me he met you for lunch…” Hayden says knowingly, rolling his eyes, “I’m gonna fucking KILL him!”
You explode with anger, though you don’t mean to, “Don’t blame Justin-I made him tell me. And he made me promise not to tell you what he said. He loves you, Hayden. He was just..trying to help. Why didn’t you tell me, Hayden?”
Hayden shakes his head slowly and looks away.
“I never told anyone,” Hayden replies very softly, almost inaudibly, “Justin only knew because he was there sometimes when my dad would…freak out. I never talked about it with anyone. I just…couldn’t.”
You sigh and rub the back of your neck in resignation, “Well…maybe you should try. Because I think it might help you if you did.”
“How?” Hayden asks defiantly, sneering at you, “How will it help to talk about it? About all the shit I went through? It won’t change anything! Won’t do a fucking thing for me! What do you want to know? That my first memory is of my father beating the shit out of me for spilling a glass of milk? Or that I watched him…beat my mother at least once a week over the stupidest little things? Or that he beat me up when I didn’t get A’s in school, or when my ice hockey team lost a game….or do you want to hear about that time that he broke three of my ribs and I ended up at the hospital because he found me kissing my boyfriend in our living room, and he didn’t want me to be gay, so he thought maybe if he just hit me hard enough, I would be straight?”
You shake your head, “God, Hayden…” is all you can say.
“Wanna hear something really fucked up?” Hayden asks sarcastically,” When I was little, my father used to punish me by locking me in the basement. It was dark and cold there, even in the summer, and I hated it. When he’d lock me down there-which was pretty often because I was a really bad little kid-and I would get so scared that I wouldn’t be able to breathe…and if I cried, he would come down there and beat me until ….until I stopped. That happened a lot…at least once a month, and sometimes, I swear-I didn’t even know what I did wrong…I would ask him, and he would just hit me again, and throw me down there. After a while, I stopped asking, and just figured that it didn’t matter what I did. I just couldn’t please him.”
Hayden stops talking now, choking on his own tears and so hysterical he can barely stand up. He slides slowly to the ground and puts his head in his hands, “There! I talked about it, and you know what? I don’t feel better! So, fuck you!”
You realise that Hayden is not going to tell you about the sexual abuse. Why would he? Hayden did not know that Justin knew, so he thought you didn’t know, either.
“What about the rest, Hayden-are you going to talk about what else he did to you?” you ask slowly, calmly.
Hayden looks at you blankly, “What? What are you talking about-what else?”
You decide to be blunt since it is obvious to you that Hayden will not take the hint.
“How many times did he rape you, Hayden?” you ask, your voice flat, staring at the floor, unable to look at him as you say the words.
Hayden looks at you in horror, unable to respond. He stutters and goes silent for a long time, and then, “How…? What are you talking about? Who…?”
You get up and go to him as he begins to shake uncontrollably, “Hayden, its okay…” you reach out to embrace him, but he shrinks away in terror and anger.
“Get away from me!” he screams, looking like a caged and frightened animal, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
You back away slightly, giving him space, “Hayden…please…”
“How do you know about that?” he asks at last, his voice raw and hoarse.
“I just know.” You reply.
Hayden’s eyes fall closed in resignation. He doesn’t bother with denials; he just looks so…defeated and drained. As if he has spent so much time and energy denying these facts that he no longer has the strength for anything but tears.
“Please talk to me, Hayden,” you beg.
Slowly, he shakes his head, tears dripping down his face, “I can’t..do this with you right now,” he says simply, and gets up and walks out of the room. You decide it’s best not to follow him, and just wait for him to come to you.
A few hours later, you are still up, sitting watching TV, when Hayden enters the room silently, not even looking at you as he passes by. He goes to the opposite couch and sits there, biting his fingernails, looking like a little boy. He begins slowly and quietly, and you have to lean forward to hear him.
“I don’t remember when it started…it seemed to always be that way…ever since…ever since I can remember. I have this really clear memory of being, about ten, I guess…and being naked in bed with him. He was touching me…I didn’t know what he was doing. I just knew it felt good, but…I knew it was wrong. I cried…I told him to stop, but… He slept with me from the time I was very young…and he kept doing it until I moved out. A few times a month-sometimes more, sometimes less. I never knew when or why…he would just show up in my room when everyone else was out, or in the middle of the night. I never fought him. I was twelve the first time we had sex. He gave me a blowjob, and…I came…then he told me to lay back and he fucked me, face to face. It hurt so much…like being torn in half. But I remember him petting my face and wiping away my tears and telling me to be very quiet….so I was. I just..let him rape me. He came inside me and held me close and he told me that he loved me, that I was special, and that what we were doing was special….I wanted to believe him….I just cried. I knew that wasn’t love…”
You nod slowly, “It wasn’t your fault-there was nothing you could have done, Hayden. You know that, right? You were…just a child….”
You feel sick, and can’t comprehend men doing this to their own son. Your heart aches for Hayden in a way that it has never ached for anyone else.
Hayden ignores you completely, and continues, staring into space, as if in a trance.
“I remember being too young to know what was happening when it started, what he was doing…I didn’t know anything about sex yet…but I knew what he was doing was wrong. It just felt so wrong. And…it hurt…I always felt so…dirty after. He would always blame after…tell me it was my fault-that I made him want me. I hated myself…I was so ashamed. but after a while, I knew I must be a real sick fuck because there was part of me that wanted it, part of me that…craved it. I know how that sounds but….its just that…when he…made love to me…that was the only time he ever-EVER-showed me any affection….it was the only time he touched me at all, and the only time he ever told me….he loved me….so I started to want it just so I could feel close to him for a little while…how sick is that?”
He is crying now-tears streaming down his face. You want to reach for him, to hold him…but you sense that he won’t be able to handle that right now. He is trembling and starkly pale. You wonder, briefly, if he has ever spoken these words out loud before tonight….
“Why didn’t you tell someone-anyone?” you ask in anguish, trying to imagine the hell that Hayden must have lived in for so many years.
Hayden looks at you sadly. He draws his knees up to his chest and rests his forehead against his knees and cries for a long time before going on.
“I didn’t know how…it was the same as the beatings. I figured I deserved it, asked for it, somehow. I didn’t think anyone would help me or that anyone would care. And, I mean, he was my father…it would have destroyed my whole family…. I didn’t want to hurt my mom or my sisters…or Tove.”
“No one knew? No one…suspected anything?” you ask, still trying to get your head around what Hayden is admitting too.
“Tove knew,” Hayden says flatly, “We’ve never spoken about it, but I know he knows. I don’t know when he figured it out, but… The way he looks at me sometimes, like he’s going to cry or something…I know he knows…but I just can’t…talk to him about it. I want to sometimes, but…I don’t know how…”
He seems so fragile, and so much younger than his twenty-five years of age. You try to regain your emotional balance.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” you whisper after a few moments of silence.
Emboldened, you go on, “When I met you-at Skywalker ranch? -You seemed so…
I had the feeling something was really bad in your life, and I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t know..how…” your voice trails off as you lose yourself in the memory.
You feel Hayden flinch at the statement, “That was just…a really bad time for me. I’d just told my dad I wasn’t going to college a few days before I got the call to come to the ranch. He…beat the shit out of me. Tove had to call the police to make him stop…”
Hayden’s voice trails off and you can tell that he is lost in a horrible memory.
“I don’t know if you remember at all, but I had these bruises all over me,” he continues.
You nod because you do remember, vaguely, “I remember…”
“I told everyone they were from skateboarding and ice hockey…they weren’t. Anyway…I was a mess that weekend. I couldn’t believe I got the role…” Hayden laughs humourlessly.
“You just seemed…I don’t know…scared? Sad? Shy? I couldn’t understand why…I mean, you were gorgeous. Tove kept telling me to leave you alone…it makes more sense now, I guess…”
“So…now you know.” Hayden says flatly.
You nod, distracted.
“Do I disgust you?” he asks, his voice shaking.
“Oh God, Hayden!” you groan and embrace him tightly against your chest, “Nothing you could ever do would disgust me-especially not this! It wasn’t your fault!”
Hayden dissolves in tears against you, clutching at your shirt as he soaks it with tears. He cries until he has no tears left, and then he sleeps against you, exhausted and spent. He doesn’t even stir when you carry him to your bedroom and put him to bed, then get into bed beside him, both of you fully clothed.
You watch him sleep and cry for him softly, until your own eyes fall closed.
You awaken a few hours later and Hayden is laying beside you, staring at you. His eyes are soft and sad, and you simply stare back, unsure of what to do or say. After a few long awkward moments, Hayden smiles slightly and leans forward, placing a gentle, chaste kiss to your lips, and then nuzzling slightly against your jaw line.
You want him so badly that it hurts, but you don’t want to scare him. You let him take the lead, allowing him to draw your body close against his and kiss you again, more deeply this time.
You can feel him shaking as you press your body gently to his. He whimpers like a small animal caught in a trap, and you nuzzle against his neck lovingly, “Tell me what you want, Hayden…” you whisper.
“You…” he breathes out shakily, “I want to…make love…with you.”
You smile slightly and look into his eyes, “Are you certain?” you ask him and he nods, obviously frightened but also very willing.
You roll him slowly onto his back and look down at him, “You’re so beautiful,” you tell him earnestly, and then kiss him slowly, your tongue entwining with his for what feels like an eternity.
You undress him slowly, kissing his skin and nuzzling against his chest as he moans, and runs his hands through your hair. When you are both nude, you slowly lay on top of his perfect body, kissing his pouting lips gently, pushing your tongue into his mouth repeatedly, and tasting him as he whimpers.
“You’re beautiful,” you tell him over and over again between kisses, and he arches against you, crying out softly.
“No, not beautiful…” he says, closing his eyes tightly against your words.
You run your hands up and down his sides and feel him begin to tremble under your fingertips. A thought occurs to you, so you pull back slightly and rest your forehead against his
“Have you ever…done this?” you ask gently, “I mean, besides with…him?”
You pull back and search his face for answers.
Hayden can’t look at you, and his eyes dance all around the room as they fill with tears. He is trembling and unable relax under you, “No…” he admits softly, looking embarrassed and frightened. He bites his lip and swallows thickly, forcing himself to look at you, “I’ve tried, but I always…freak out, and I can’t…but…I want too. I do…I want to do this with you…want you to be my…first? Please?”
He is squirming under you, his face blushing with embarrassment.
“God…you must think I’m so fucking pathetic!” he whines sadly, tears slipping from his eyes again.
You feel as if your heart is breaking as you watch him fall apart, and you reach out to run the back of your left hand down his perfect, boyish face, “I’d be honoured to be your first, Hayden. Its okay…it’s all right, Hayden…relax. Relax for me. I won’t hurt you, I promise…I would never hurt you.”
You slowly lower your lips to his neck, and place soft kisses there, as he mews, and tentatively places his hands on your shoulders, still shaking, on the verge of panic, “I don’t know what to do, really…” he admits softly, sounding desperate, “I always just…laid there and let him…I don’t know how to…I’m sorry…”
You can feel his whole body heaving beneath yours and he is close to losing control.
You pull back so that Hayden won’t completely lose control. You lay next to him and just barely stroke the skin on his taut stomach lightly, “Shhhh, Hayden…it doesn’t matter…we’ll go slowly, okay?” you soothe him gently.
Hayden looks at you hopefully, “Will you…hold me? Please?” he asks pathetically, and you smile and embrace him gently.
Slowly, he relaxes into your arms, pressing warm lips to your neck, not quite kissing, just pressing them there and sighing, “Ryan…” he moans quietly against your skin, calming down slowly.
You stroke up and down his back reassuringly, just holding him and doing nothing more, letting him control the pace of things.
“I’m so scared…” Hayden whimpers, and you cannot believe his innocence, his complete lack of experience…his sweetness, “Please? Show me what to do…how to…make love…” he is crying again now, and unable to speak any longer.
You just hold him and try your best to sooth him, calm him.
“Just…lay with me, Hayden. We don’t have to do anything right now…just let me lay here with you and hold you and kiss you-that’s all. That’s all I need from you right now…”
Hayden looks at you disbelieving your words, “I’m sorry…” he whispers and turns his body away, looking out the window at the view of the ocean.
You kiss his back lightly, “Don’t be, Christensen. I just want to go slow-show you how beautiful it can be-with the right person.”
Hayden looks back at you briefly, before looking away again, at the ocean, “I’m so fucked up,” he says very softly.
Hayden continues to stare at the sea, “You must think I’m such a freak….twenty five and only ever slept with my father…I don’t know what I’m doing…I can’t…make you pleasure you. I’m sorry-I must be such a disappointment to you…you waited all these years to have Vader-and this is how I am!” he laughs bitterly, curling into the foetal position beside you.
Your heart aches for him as he says these words, so full of self-loathing and pain.
“Oh Hayden,” you whisper, “Let me help you…please? Let me in…”
For a long time there is only silence and you are sure that Hayden is going to get up and leave, but then he turns to you, just staring for a moment before practically throwing himself against you and kissing you so passionately, it takes your breath away.
The kissing is full of emotion, full of pain and sweetness and hope and fear…you kiss and kiss and kiss forever….
At last you roll on top of him and pull back. You stare into one another’s eyes steadily. Instinctively, Hayden spreads his thighs under you, and you cannot stifle the moan that escapes your lips.
“Are you ready? You ask softly, reaching for the lube bottle, and Hayden smiles that gorgeous smile of his, nodding.
“Please…” he groans, spreading his thighs even more, offering himself. He looks amazing-so open and wanton, and yet still so innocent and sweet-it is an intoxicating mix, and it overwhelms you as you slowly, gently, push forward and encase yourself in his heat.
“Oh,” you groan unexpectedly at the tightness, the perfection of his body. You stare down at this perfect, wounded creature beneath you, and wonder how anyone could ever hurt something so vulnerable and precious. You close your eyes and feel emotions coursing through your body and mind, and when you open your eyes again, Hayden is staring up at you with a look of total trust and devotion, “Hayden…” you grunt, sliding all the way to the hilt.
For a long time, you remain just like that-perfectly still and joined together, staring into one another’s eyes.
“I love you,” Hayden whimpers at last, sounding so innocent and young, and your heart feels so full, it just might burst with love.
“I love you too, Hayden,” you whisper harshly, trying not to thrust but needing to so very badly.
Hayden wraps long legs around your waist, and pulls you ever closer, “Love me…love me with your body, Ryan-please?”
His words are nearly enough to make you come, and you buck against him a bit too roughly, unable to control yourself, “I’m sorry,” you say quickly, but Hayden only smiles up at you lazily, “I don’t want to hurt you…” you say firmly.
“Then don’t stop…please don’t ever stop…” Hayden says in a voice that speaks of a need as great-perhaps greater-then your own.
You begin to move now.
This isn’t sex. This is truly making love. You throw your head back as you both find a rhythm, and begin to move as one.
Hayden is lost beneath you in ecstasy, moaning and crying out and arching against you in desperate search for ever greater contact with your body.
“Never knew…never knew it could be like this…so good…so..beautiful..” he whimpers in wonder, turns his head to one side, a single tear escaping his eyes and sliding down his cheek, “So good with you…love you, need you…need this…so much…please don’t stop…” he is panting the words as the passion grows between the two of you, and you feel that you won’t be able to last much longer.
“You feel so good!” you groan at his entreaties, thrusting fully now, unable to hold back any longer, needing to come, “I want to come inside you so bad, Hayden… Can I come in you?” you grunt, desperate, slamming against him now, and so very close…
Hayden turns his head back, and stares up into your eyes lovingly, and trusting, he groans,“Yeah, baby…you can.…want you to..come inside me…”
“Oh, Christ! Hayden! You’re so fucking beautiful!” you shout as you crest and come deeply within him, your hips spasming wildly as you empty yourself, lost in a sea of ecstasy, “Oh, I’m coming…I’m coming in you, baby…I love you!”
Your body is tensed and taut and your head is thrown back as you stare at the ceiling, feeling yourself spurt inside Hayden’s body and feeling Hayden explode between your taut bellies, pressed closely together, covering both of you in his liquid heat.
You are vaguely aware that he is screaming your name as he comes, and then there is nothing…only blackness as you collapse against him.
TBC….