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Blond curls fell over liquid blue eyes and the late afternoon sunlight danced across the crimson blood smeared on pale skin. The quiet of the bathroom was only broken by sharp inhales or the wind that howled outside the window, signaling the coming night.
About 20 minutes ago Ryan had shown up at Naim’s house clutching the door with a shaky hand, face bruised and cut in various places.
“I had no where else to go.”
The blond’s voice was raw, like he’d been screaming or shouting for help but no one had answered. His beautiful curls were dyed red where they stuck to his bloodied face and he wore a broken, defeated look. Safe to say it had scared the living shit out of Naim, who helped Ryan inside as he nearly keeled over in the doorway. Naim thought for a moment that he was dreaming- hoped he was only dreaming -Ryan being there, kneeling on the ground looking as if he might pass out at any second.
Thankfully he hadn’t and they’d made it to the bathroom, barely. Ryan was siting on the floor, leaning against the wall while Naim sat across from him, dabbing at his bruised face with a cool cloth. Naim silently thanked whatever unforgiving God above for showing him enough mercy to have his mother out until tomorrow. He certainly wouldn’t be able to explain Ryan’s sudden appearance to her.
See, they hadn’t been friends- Naim didn’t know if what they were was even considered friends -for long. It had started with that day at the mill after Ryan had asked to hang out out of nowhere, after weeks of Naim silently crushing on him ever since they’d moved here. One thing led another and the two had seen each other a lot more after that. In secret of course, though Naim was sure he’d been caught gazing longingly at Ryan during school. He couldn’t help it. The boy was so smiley and incredibly handsome.
Whatever they were doing, no matter how it scared Naim, what he felt for Ryan grew stronger each time he saw him.
“Sorry,” Naim muttered as Ryan winced when he cleaned the dry blood around a particularly deep cut across his cheek bone.
It made Naim’s chest tight with guilt and anger at whoever had done this to him. Ryan hadn’t said much about it since he got here, just sat staring at Naim with those intense blue eyes as he tended to his injuries. Ryan’s stare always made Naim nervous, especially in those heated moments when it was just the two of them tangled up in each other. But right now Ryan was looking at Naim like he was the only thing anchoring him to this world, the only thing keeping him from crumbing completely.
Naim thought back to the mill that first time, how they had been so close just like this. They’d been play fighting. Ryan was stronger than him, though Naim would never admit it out loud because Ryan loved to be smug about it. But Naim had never once thought Ryan might hurt him while they tumbled on the dusty floor. There was a gentleness under the rough facade Ryan put on.
But now, it was slowly killing Naim to watch Ryan grimace in pain; wounded and broken on the bathroom floor. Ryan was strong, but there were times when everything was just too fucking much.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
Naim had to say something, had to know how to make Ryan’s pain ease away until he was smiling again. Outside, the sun was setting and a gust of wind whirled past the window, shaking the tall looming trees.“
Some cunts from school waiting in an alley.”
Ryan gave a wry, humorless laugh. Naim’s stomach dropped. He didn’t like where this was going.
“Called me a fag and gave me a brand new face," he remarked dryly, averting his gaze from Naim’s.
He didn’t explain any further, didn’t need to. The two of them had learned to read each other’s silence, the subtle expressions and movements that told them more than words ever could.
“Ryan I’m so sorry.”
Naim brushed his thumb over Ryan’s red knuckles, heart aching for the boy in front of him. How could someone do such a thing? Naim didn’t understand. People like that were fueled solely by their deep rooted hatred that reared its ugly head at innocent people who were just trying to love. That’s what Naim was afraid of. He was afraid that if he learned to love Ryan- which he probably already had- it would kill them both. Ryan had become too important to him, despite Naim trying desperately not to get too attached.
“Guess they noticed I hadn’t really taken an interest in girls at school. Fucking dickheads.”
Ryan looked back into Naim’s eyes then. His expression softened, bruised skin smoothing its frown lines because looking at Naim was safe. It was Ryan’s salvation.
“Don’t worry, they don’t know about this.”
Because of course, fucking amazing and caring Ryan was thinking about how this might be affecting Naim instead of himself, the actual victim. Even with bruises around his eye and a cut going right across his cheek, Ryan only saw Naim and how he was feeling. Then Ryan was leaning in and kissing Naim gently- his lips having been spared any trauma - and Naim didn’t know what to do because he was totally whipped for this boy who had gotten beat up just for being himself and still came to his house even now for help, for comfort. His touch was the light that warmed Naim's days where they had once been cold.
“Just want you.”
Ryan mumbled against Naim’s lips, pulling him in closer until there was barely any space between them. Naim’s hands were carefully brushing through Ryan’s hair like he was trying to wash out any lingering pain. Fuck, did Naim want Ryan too. It frightened him how much he thought about Ryan when they weren’t together or how much he wanted him. It was the wanting that was so addicting- that at some point had turned into need. Ryan slid his hands under Naim’s shirt, tracing over his warm skin with every press of his fingers. It set something alight inside Naim, making his breath shaky against Ryan’s neck. The world outside seemed to fade into nothing. It was all just noise. Them, on the bathroom floor, holding each other, finally safe; it was the realest thing they had.
“Ryan…” Naim muttered into the soft skin.
Ryan didn’t say anything, only kept Naim close and chased his lips, seeking his touch like he might fall apart without it. Naim knew they should try to calm things down while he was still patching up Ryan’s cuts. He kissed Ryan’s neck softly and laughed when Ryan basically whined in his ear. So much for trying to calm him down. Naim pulled back just enough to look at Ryan. The blond boy stared back at him with those aching blue eyes that wanted nothing more than to be close, and to be loved.
“Will you please let me fix this up before you start bleeding again.”
Naim caressed Ryan’s jaw, careful not to irritate any of the forming bruises. Ryan leaned into Naim’s touch, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the wall as Naim started rummaging through the med kit beside him again.
The comfortable silence resumed while Naim soaked up more dry blood and put some weird smelling ointments on Ryan’s torn skin. Naim apologised when Ryan winced because it stung or groaned because his ribs were also sort of bruised. It carved a deep hole of anguish and guilt in Naim. He felt stupid for thinking of his own pain but it was painful to see Ryan like this, hurting on the cold tiled floor of Naim’s bathroom. Naim knew a few band aids couldn’t take back Ryan’s suffering, wouldn’t heal the damage to him on the inside.
“Ya know, I thought you’d freak out. Thought maybe blood would make you faint or some shit.”
Ryan smiled at Naim like this was any one of their ordinary hangouts, like Naim’s world hadn’t just threatened to come crashing down after seeing what they had done to Ryan. But Ryan was here, Naim thought, and his stupid smirk was enough to remind him that Ryan was stronger than people’s stupid hate.
“Well I thought I might. Then I thought mum would kill me if I let you bleed all over the new house.”
Naim smiled back, smoothing some ointment under Ryan’s eye.
“Nah, I think it’s because you like me,” Ryan countered, a playful grin fighting its way onto his battered face. It made Naim’s chest flutter.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
Naim rolled his eyes, though his touch lingered a little longer than it should’ve on Ryan’s cheek before he went to search for another bandage. Ryan just hummed like he didn’t believe a word Naim said. Failing to hide his smile, Naim went back to cleaning up Ryan’s face. Oh well. Even if Naim was shit at hiding his feelings, he was glad that Ryan was smiling again. It put all his drowning thoughts and tense muscles at ease until the his fears were only a distant echo in his mind. Ryan always did that, made Naim feel like nothing bad could happen when they had each other.
“Done. How you feeling?”
Naim asked Ryan as he closed the med kit and observed his finished work. The bruises still looked obviously painful, but the ointments should slow the swelling and the band aid on his cut would prevent any further bleeding. Ryan stood, Naim following and helping him up.
“Better, thanks.”
Ryan didn’t even care to look in the mirror. No, he only watched Naim with that soft look, thoughts probably shifting around in his head as he let his forehead fall to Naim’s shoulder. Naim understood Ryan’s sudden fatigue, like a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders and now he just needed to rest. He took Ryan’s hand and led him to his bedroom.
The afternoon sky had turned into a gradient of pink and blue with the coming evening. The house was quiet save for a chortling magpie in the yard outside and the occasional rumble of a passing car. But still, none it felt as real as their enclosed hands. Naim was afraid but also hopeful that nothing else would ever compare to how he felt when he was with Ryan. Despite the dangers that lingered beyond these walls, Naim didn't want to ever stop feeling like this.
Once in the room, Naim grabbed a random oversize t-shirt from his drawer for Ryan to change into. His cut had bled onto the one he was wearing and which he struggled to remove without hurting his bruised ribs. Gently, Naim helped Ryan take it off. There was nothing clouding Ryan’s beautiful eyes now, only that quiet love that had started to bloom between them before Naim had even realised he was falling.
Naim’s stomach twisted when he saw the little greenish-purple splotches that littered Ryan’s ribs. He looked them over carefully, searching for any major damage before gently brushing the backs of his fingers against Ryan’s side.
“Stay here tonight.”
The words were barely above a whisper, but Naim couldn’t think of letting Ryan leave, couldn’t bare the thought that those guys might be waiting for him behind some dark corner on his way home. Ryan took Naim’s hand in his own, intertwining their fingers.
“Wasn’t planning on leaving.”