Halloween Plot
They'd been spared.
It was Halloween morning, and there wasn't a pair of hooker-boots between them. It was a huge relief, one which they promptly celebrated with a little roughhousing and a lot of kissing. Both of which were going well until Logan backed into one of Neil's shelves, knocking it down and banging his head.
That sort of killed the mood.
After a brief argument about who's fault it had been, Neil had left in hopes of borrowing some nails and a hammer from the building crew, leaving Logan to tidy up and get dressed. He wasn't alone for long though, and when Logan heard the door open behind him, he instantly assumed it was Joe, coming to see just what the hell they'd been doing.
"You know, in some cultures, they have this thing called 'knocking'. Apparently it stops people from walking in on one another while they're getting dressed," Logan quipped, pulling on a t-shirt and turning around.
He really wished he hadn't.
""Nothing I haven't seen before," Aaron replied, his voice laced with that carefully practiced tone of a loving father. "I spent a good six years bathing you after all."
Something told him that Aaron wasn't going to simply vanish this time, and Logan struggled with himself for a moment as he tried to decide how to react. "You mean the Nanny spent six years bathing me," he corrected, forcing himself to stay casual and relaxed. "Rosalita always had a softer touch than you anyway."
Aaron laughed, a forced and cold sound that Logan was all too familiar with. The calm before the storm. "I've missed you, Logan. I'm really looking forward to becoming a family again."
Logan just shook his head. "You're not my family anymore," he said firmly, voice level and calm. "I'm twenty now, and you're not my father. You were never my father. Just the asshole that..."
He was promptly cut off by the back of Aaron's hand as it hit his cheek, snapping his head to the side with a sound that seemed to echo off the hut walls. "Don't be disrespectful," his father said simply. "I don't care how old you are, you are my son, and you'll show me some respect. You're right, you're not a child anymore, and I won't treat you like one if you don't act like one."
Rubbing his cheek, Logan glared, fighting back the feeling of fear that sat deep in his gut. "You're not my father," he said again, looking up at the older man for a long moment, and then trying to push past him so he could leave.
He really should have known better, but after all this time, he didn't want to be the weak child he'd been two years ago. He didn't want to cave and let Aaron shove him around. He'd built a new life here, and if would take more than a slap in the face to get him to give it up. When Aaron grabbed his arm though, fingers digging into his forearm as he shoved him roughly back into the room and onto the bed, Logan couldn't fight the fear any longer. In that moment, he was seven again, and Aaron... Aaron was the most frightening person in the world.
Mouth open slightly, there was an obvious look of panic on Logan's face as he watched Aaron move closer.
"Is this how it has to be?" he father asked. "Twenty years old, and you still need to be taught how to treat someone with respect? It's embarrassing, Logan, I hope you know that. You should be ashamed of this." Fingers moving to his belt, Aaron just shook his head as he slipped it free from the belt loops on his jeans. "We'll do it this way then."
Logan didn't even argue. He knew better than that. In the long run, the belt tended to be the better option. It was usually enough to calm Aaron down, preventing bloody noses or broken bones. That didn't make it any easier to swallow though, and Logan's stomach turned as he got to his feet and pulled off his shirt. He didn't need to be told to face the wall, he just did it, forcing his mind to go blank as he heard Aaron step up behind him.
"You know I only do this because I love you," he heard his father say... right before the first lash fell.
When it was over, Logan's back burned, and he wasted no time pulling his shirt back on. "I need you to leave," he said calmly, glancing at his father. "You can go to the compound... that big building... you can get a room or something. You can't be here though. Alright?"
Aaron just raised a brow. "Don't want to introduce me to your boyfriend then? You're lucky you're mother's not alive to hear about that. It would have killed her."
Logan just frowned, knowing that wasn't true. "Lucky you drove her to suicide you mean," he corrected coldly. And this time... This time he waited to hit the ground.
(Locked to those close to Logan, If you want to tag in and didn't already get an okay from me, just drop me an e-mail.)
It was Halloween morning, and there wasn't a pair of hooker-boots between them. It was a huge relief, one which they promptly celebrated with a little roughhousing and a lot of kissing. Both of which were going well until Logan backed into one of Neil's shelves, knocking it down and banging his head.
That sort of killed the mood.
After a brief argument about who's fault it had been, Neil had left in hopes of borrowing some nails and a hammer from the building crew, leaving Logan to tidy up and get dressed. He wasn't alone for long though, and when Logan heard the door open behind him, he instantly assumed it was Joe, coming to see just what the hell they'd been doing.
"You know, in some cultures, they have this thing called 'knocking'. Apparently it stops people from walking in on one another while they're getting dressed," Logan quipped, pulling on a t-shirt and turning around.
He really wished he hadn't.
""Nothing I haven't seen before," Aaron replied, his voice laced with that carefully practiced tone of a loving father. "I spent a good six years bathing you after all."
Something told him that Aaron wasn't going to simply vanish this time, and Logan struggled with himself for a moment as he tried to decide how to react. "You mean the Nanny spent six years bathing me," he corrected, forcing himself to stay casual and relaxed. "Rosalita always had a softer touch than you anyway."
Aaron laughed, a forced and cold sound that Logan was all too familiar with. The calm before the storm. "I've missed you, Logan. I'm really looking forward to becoming a family again."
Logan just shook his head. "You're not my family anymore," he said firmly, voice level and calm. "I'm twenty now, and you're not my father. You were never my father. Just the asshole that..."
He was promptly cut off by the back of Aaron's hand as it hit his cheek, snapping his head to the side with a sound that seemed to echo off the hut walls. "Don't be disrespectful," his father said simply. "I don't care how old you are, you are my son, and you'll show me some respect. You're right, you're not a child anymore, and I won't treat you like one if you don't act like one."
Rubbing his cheek, Logan glared, fighting back the feeling of fear that sat deep in his gut. "You're not my father," he said again, looking up at the older man for a long moment, and then trying to push past him so he could leave.
He really should have known better, but after all this time, he didn't want to be the weak child he'd been two years ago. He didn't want to cave and let Aaron shove him around. He'd built a new life here, and if would take more than a slap in the face to get him to give it up. When Aaron grabbed his arm though, fingers digging into his forearm as he shoved him roughly back into the room and onto the bed, Logan couldn't fight the fear any longer. In that moment, he was seven again, and Aaron... Aaron was the most frightening person in the world.
Mouth open slightly, there was an obvious look of panic on Logan's face as he watched Aaron move closer.
"Is this how it has to be?" he father asked. "Twenty years old, and you still need to be taught how to treat someone with respect? It's embarrassing, Logan, I hope you know that. You should be ashamed of this." Fingers moving to his belt, Aaron just shook his head as he slipped it free from the belt loops on his jeans. "We'll do it this way then."
Logan didn't even argue. He knew better than that. In the long run, the belt tended to be the better option. It was usually enough to calm Aaron down, preventing bloody noses or broken bones. That didn't make it any easier to swallow though, and Logan's stomach turned as he got to his feet and pulled off his shirt. He didn't need to be told to face the wall, he just did it, forcing his mind to go blank as he heard Aaron step up behind him.
"You know I only do this because I love you," he heard his father say... right before the first lash fell.
When it was over, Logan's back burned, and he wasted no time pulling his shirt back on. "I need you to leave," he said calmly, glancing at his father. "You can go to the compound... that big building... you can get a room or something. You can't be here though. Alright?"
Aaron just raised a brow. "Don't want to introduce me to your boyfriend then? You're lucky you're mother's not alive to hear about that. It would have killed her."
Logan just frowned, knowing that wasn't true. "Lucky you drove her to suicide you mean," he corrected coldly. And this time... This time he waited to hit the ground.
(Locked to those close to Logan, If you want to tag in and didn't already get an okay from me, just drop me an e-mail.)