Blood Cold & Heart Warm [FanFic]
Title: Blood Cold & Heart Warm
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Reid/Ethan
Rating: FRM
Summary: Spencer couldn’t figure out what it was, but something seemed wrong as his friend slipped in through the window.
Notes: I've given Reid and Ethan about a five year age difference and how the pairing is read (slash or gen) is up to you, but I'm tagging it as slash. I couldn't think of a better title or summary for some reason. This piece is pretty angsty, kinda dark, and involves the violent sexual abuse of a male minor by a family member so (while not completely written out) it may be triggering.
The rapping reminded ten-year-old Spencer of The Raven as it woke him. He turned on the light, put on his glasses, and let fear-widened eyes dart to the window. The boy shook in his fright…he really shouldn’t have read anything spooky so close to bedtime.
“Spencer…” It was weak, barely above a whimper, but recognizable.
“Ethan?” He nearly tripped over himself. “Whatcha doing? Are you okay?”
He had a history of crashing at the house, he’d just walk the few blocks to Reid’s, but Ethan was supposed to be at his uncle’s. “Come in?”
“Yeah, sure.” Spencer couldn’t figure out what it was, but something seemed wrong as his friend slipped in through the window. He’d seen Ethan beat up before, knew his parents were abusive, but Spencer’s gut said this was different. Ethan was shivering, trembling, while his hair and clothes were slick and matted in sweat. “Do…uh…do…do you wanna blanket?”
“Thanks.”
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked as he yanked his bed’s top layer off.
“Fine.” Ethan pulled the blanket up around him, let his head fall back against the wall, and closed his eyes. He could feel hot salt water forming in his eyes, but ignored it. “Lemme stay.”
“Okay.” Spencer sat in front of his friend. “Did, um…you walk here?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s far.” Approximately 35.6 miles.
“Yeah.”
“Do, uh…do your aunt and uncle know?”
His aunt had been upstairs pretending she couldn't hear as plates shattered and chairs were knocked over. She ignored the yells and hollers, the pleas to be let go, and that single wail of shocked pain. She played ignorant because getting involved left her open to her husband’s sadistic urges. Better the boy than her.
“You can’t tell ‘em, okay?” Ethan opened his eyes. “Promise!”
“O-o-okay. …Ethan?”
“What?”
“What happened to your neck?”
With the belt looped in place every attempt at fighting back was stopped with an abrupt choke; Ethan had no option but to stay docile. Even then the leather strap cut off circulation, burrowed into his neck, and made him light-headed when Uncle Tommy tightened in orgasm.
“Nothing,” Ethan muttered, focused on the blanket as tears finally slipped out.
“It’s all bruised. ...There's cuts too.”
“It’s fine.”
“Let me see, maybe I can help,” he leaned towards his friend.
“Any closer I’ll kick your ass.” The teen growled, every part of him tense, like a cornered animal.
Spencer backed off. “Sorry.” He scratched his face. “You’re all pale.”
“Cold.” He’d run from his uncle’s at full speed in boxers and a tee.
“Maybe you have a slight case of hypothermia?” Spencer offered as he stood, relieved to find something he knew how to help with. “You should, uh, remove wet clothing and get under lotsa blankets. You can stay in my bed if you want.”
“Don’t have wet clothing.”
“But, uh…well…they’re all sweaty and cold.”
“Don’t got any others.”
“Medical books say it’s better to be naked and, uh, use body heat than keep on the clothes that’re holding in the cold.”
“No.” Ethan glared a warning.
“J-Just the blankets then?”
“Yeah.” His muscles ached and stomach churned as he stood and stretched to get into the bed. He could feel the burn of raw and still torn skin.
“Hey Ethan…”
“Yeah?”
“You’re, uh…you’re bleeding.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”
Spencer’s face scrunched up. “Maybe you should see a doctor?” The blood was dried, but it still looked bad.
“No.”
It looked bad because Spencer knew it wasn’t normal. He knew that’s not what happened to boys; they didn’t menstruate like girls did and not even girls bled where Ethan seemed to have. “Ethan?” his voice squeaked in nerves, in a battle of wanting to insist and not wanting to upset his friend.
“Spencer, really it’s fine.” Ethan faked a smile for Reid’s benefit. “I just…” he couldn't find a plausible excuse; Spencer was young, not stupid. “I’m fine.”
He decided to let it drop unsure it was worth risking the one friendship he had; Ethan never gave up anything he didn’t want to anyway. Spencer let the older boy have the bed and blankets while he curled up on the floor.
Ethan finally started to warm under the layers and a sense of safety returned in hearing his friend's rhythmic breathing nearby.
"...and yet in the end, that one person does not think any less of you; even if the rest of the world does.” ~ Unknown
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Reid/Ethan
Rating: FRM
Summary: Spencer couldn’t figure out what it was, but something seemed wrong as his friend slipped in through the window.
Notes: I've given Reid and Ethan about a five year age difference and how the pairing is read (slash or gen) is up to you, but I'm tagging it as slash. I couldn't think of a better title or summary for some reason. This piece is pretty angsty, kinda dark, and involves the violent sexual abuse of a male minor by a family member so (while not completely written out) it may be triggering.
The rapping reminded ten-year-old Spencer of The Raven as it woke him. He turned on the light, put on his glasses, and let fear-widened eyes dart to the window. The boy shook in his fright…he really shouldn’t have read anything spooky so close to bedtime.
“Spencer…” It was weak, barely above a whimper, but recognizable.
“Ethan?” He nearly tripped over himself. “Whatcha doing? Are you okay?”
He had a history of crashing at the house, he’d just walk the few blocks to Reid’s, but Ethan was supposed to be at his uncle’s. “Come in?”
“Yeah, sure.” Spencer couldn’t figure out what it was, but something seemed wrong as his friend slipped in through the window. He’d seen Ethan beat up before, knew his parents were abusive, but Spencer’s gut said this was different. Ethan was shivering, trembling, while his hair and clothes were slick and matted in sweat. “Do…uh…do…do you wanna blanket?”
“Thanks.”
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked as he yanked his bed’s top layer off.
“Fine.” Ethan pulled the blanket up around him, let his head fall back against the wall, and closed his eyes. He could feel hot salt water forming in his eyes, but ignored it. “Lemme stay.”
“Okay.” Spencer sat in front of his friend. “Did, um…you walk here?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s far.” Approximately 35.6 miles.
“Yeah.”
“Do, uh…do your aunt and uncle know?”
His aunt had been upstairs pretending she couldn't hear as plates shattered and chairs were knocked over. She ignored the yells and hollers, the pleas to be let go, and that single wail of shocked pain. She played ignorant because getting involved left her open to her husband’s sadistic urges. Better the boy than her.
“You can’t tell ‘em, okay?” Ethan opened his eyes. “Promise!”
“O-o-okay. …Ethan?”
“What?”
“What happened to your neck?”
With the belt looped in place every attempt at fighting back was stopped with an abrupt choke; Ethan had no option but to stay docile. Even then the leather strap cut off circulation, burrowed into his neck, and made him light-headed when Uncle Tommy tightened in orgasm.
“Nothing,” Ethan muttered, focused on the blanket as tears finally slipped out.
“It’s all bruised. ...There's cuts too.”
“It’s fine.”
“Let me see, maybe I can help,” he leaned towards his friend.
“Any closer I’ll kick your ass.” The teen growled, every part of him tense, like a cornered animal.
Spencer backed off. “Sorry.” He scratched his face. “You’re all pale.”
“Cold.” He’d run from his uncle’s at full speed in boxers and a tee.
“Maybe you have a slight case of hypothermia?” Spencer offered as he stood, relieved to find something he knew how to help with. “You should, uh, remove wet clothing and get under lotsa blankets. You can stay in my bed if you want.”
“Don’t have wet clothing.”
“But, uh…well…they’re all sweaty and cold.”
“Don’t got any others.”
“Medical books say it’s better to be naked and, uh, use body heat than keep on the clothes that’re holding in the cold.”
“No.” Ethan glared a warning.
“J-Just the blankets then?”
“Yeah.” His muscles ached and stomach churned as he stood and stretched to get into the bed. He could feel the burn of raw and still torn skin.
“Hey Ethan…”
“Yeah?”
“You’re, uh…you’re bleeding.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”
Spencer’s face scrunched up. “Maybe you should see a doctor?” The blood was dried, but it still looked bad.
“No.”
It looked bad because Spencer knew it wasn’t normal. He knew that’s not what happened to boys; they didn’t menstruate like girls did and not even girls bled where Ethan seemed to have. “Ethan?” his voice squeaked in nerves, in a battle of wanting to insist and not wanting to upset his friend.
“Spencer, really it’s fine.” Ethan faked a smile for Reid’s benefit. “I just…” he couldn't find a plausible excuse; Spencer was young, not stupid. “I’m fine.”
He decided to let it drop unsure it was worth risking the one friendship he had; Ethan never gave up anything he didn’t want to anyway. Spencer let the older boy have the bed and blankets while he curled up on the floor.
Ethan finally started to warm under the layers and a sense of safety returned in hearing his friend's rhythmic breathing nearby.
"...and yet in the end, that one person does not think any less of you; even if the rest of the world does.” ~ Unknown