Gingerbread #9, Pistachio #23, Carob #29 + whipped cream + fresh peaches
Story: Blaze Mafia Family
Title: The Beatdown
Prompts: Gingerbread #9: ugly duckling, Pistachio #23: recuperating, Carob #29: realization + whipped cream + fresh peaches (Romantically, you’re wise to protect your feelings)
Rating: PG13 for violence and a great deal of cursing
Characters: Felix Wade
Summary: Felix hasn’t had an easy life. He’s thirteen here.
Felix cursed under his breath. The tv was on, which meant his dad was home. He couldn’t use the front door to their shitty apartment, then. If his dad saw him like this, the old bastard would lay into him and the last thing he needed was another fist to the face.
It took a lot longer than normal for Felix to round the building and get to the old oak tree that grew up alongside their apartment on the second floor. He’d used that tree as an escape route more times than he could count so he knew how to work his way up the branches without jostling his injuries too much. Still, his ribs were burning and he nearly slipped on the last branch because his hands were slick with blood. But he made it like he always did, pushing open the window that he never locked and falling into his tiny bedroom at the back of the apartment. The bathroom was right beside his room, his dad didn’t see him and Felix made sure to hold the doorknob while he turned the lock so the sound would be muffled.
Now it was time to take stock of the damage. Felix looked in the mirror, eyeing his reflection critically. A black eye, maybe two, but his nose wasn’t broken. There was a short deep gash on his cheek where David Bertocchi’s older brother had pushed him to the ground and he’d hit a rock. They’d kicked him all along his torso and lower body but Felix had curled up in a ball to protect himself so he didn’t think anything was broken in there, just bruised to all hell. His knuckles were scuffed up real bad, which made Felix grin, his white teeth splashed with blood. He wasn’t the only one that had walked away with a black eye.
The grin faded quickly though as Felix continued to stare at himself in the mirror. He’d always known there was something wrong about him. Hell, his dad had told him often enough that there had to be some grain of truth to it. But then David Bertocchi had come along and proven it. David was in Felix’s class at school. They’d been friends all year, playing soccer during lunch and after school. Felix liked David a lot, but not like his other friends. David was different. David was his best friend.
Then today they’d been walking home from school and David had started talking about how he wanted to kiss that fatass Harriet Bruno. Harriet was just some stupid girl in their class that Felix had never looked twice at, but now he wanted to punch her in her fat mouth so David could never kiss her. Felix had gotten angry at David, but he didn’t know why and David didn’t either. They’d argued and Felix got so angry that he thought about hitting David, but instead of hitting him Felix had kissed him. Maybe if Felix kissed David then David wouldn’t want to kiss Harriet Bruno. Felix was way better than bitch anyway.
Except that it didn’t work. David had hit him in the stomach then run home so he could tattle on Felix to his older brother, who everyone knew was a drug dealer. They’d beat him up and Felix had fought back but David’s brother was a lot bigger than him and he had no chance of winning.
So now here he was, sneaking back into his house, covered in blood and down his best friend. David would tell everybody at school because David was a tattletale. Then Felix wouldn’t have any friends because only weirdos kissed other boys. They’d probably beat him up again because that’s what you did to weirdos.
“Fuck ‘em,” Felix hissed at his reflection then scrubbed furiously at the blood on his face.
Fuck all those bastards. He wasn’t afraid of them. He wasn’t going to hide from them. If those pussies were going to hit him, then he’d just learn to hit harder.
Title: The Beatdown
Prompts: Gingerbread #9: ugly duckling, Pistachio #23: recuperating, Carob #29: realization + whipped cream + fresh peaches (Romantically, you’re wise to protect your feelings)
Rating: PG13 for violence and a great deal of cursing
Characters: Felix Wade
Summary: Felix hasn’t had an easy life. He’s thirteen here.
Felix cursed under his breath. The tv was on, which meant his dad was home. He couldn’t use the front door to their shitty apartment, then. If his dad saw him like this, the old bastard would lay into him and the last thing he needed was another fist to the face.
It took a lot longer than normal for Felix to round the building and get to the old oak tree that grew up alongside their apartment on the second floor. He’d used that tree as an escape route more times than he could count so he knew how to work his way up the branches without jostling his injuries too much. Still, his ribs were burning and he nearly slipped on the last branch because his hands were slick with blood. But he made it like he always did, pushing open the window that he never locked and falling into his tiny bedroom at the back of the apartment. The bathroom was right beside his room, his dad didn’t see him and Felix made sure to hold the doorknob while he turned the lock so the sound would be muffled.
Now it was time to take stock of the damage. Felix looked in the mirror, eyeing his reflection critically. A black eye, maybe two, but his nose wasn’t broken. There was a short deep gash on his cheek where David Bertocchi’s older brother had pushed him to the ground and he’d hit a rock. They’d kicked him all along his torso and lower body but Felix had curled up in a ball to protect himself so he didn’t think anything was broken in there, just bruised to all hell. His knuckles were scuffed up real bad, which made Felix grin, his white teeth splashed with blood. He wasn’t the only one that had walked away with a black eye.
The grin faded quickly though as Felix continued to stare at himself in the mirror. He’d always known there was something wrong about him. Hell, his dad had told him often enough that there had to be some grain of truth to it. But then David Bertocchi had come along and proven it. David was in Felix’s class at school. They’d been friends all year, playing soccer during lunch and after school. Felix liked David a lot, but not like his other friends. David was different. David was his best friend.
Then today they’d been walking home from school and David had started talking about how he wanted to kiss that fatass Harriet Bruno. Harriet was just some stupid girl in their class that Felix had never looked twice at, but now he wanted to punch her in her fat mouth so David could never kiss her. Felix had gotten angry at David, but he didn’t know why and David didn’t either. They’d argued and Felix got so angry that he thought about hitting David, but instead of hitting him Felix had kissed him. Maybe if Felix kissed David then David wouldn’t want to kiss Harriet Bruno. Felix was way better than bitch anyway.
Except that it didn’t work. David had hit him in the stomach then run home so he could tattle on Felix to his older brother, who everyone knew was a drug dealer. They’d beat him up and Felix had fought back but David’s brother was a lot bigger than him and he had no chance of winning.
So now here he was, sneaking back into his house, covered in blood and down his best friend. David would tell everybody at school because David was a tattletale. Then Felix wouldn’t have any friends because only weirdos kissed other boys. They’d probably beat him up again because that’s what you did to weirdos.
“Fuck ‘em,” Felix hissed at his reflection then scrubbed furiously at the blood on his face.
Fuck all those bastards. He wasn’t afraid of them. He wasn’t going to hide from them. If those pussies were going to hit him, then he’d just learn to hit harder.