by G. R. Lyons
Which instantly brought back the fantasy of Colby going down on Vic, those perfect lips sucking him deep while his beautiful eyes looked up at him…
Vic inwardly cursed and tried to shut down that train of thought. He couldn't be letting his imagination run that way, wrong on more levels than he could possibly count. Vic cleared his throat and shook his head.
“How about…” Vic began. He started to reach out and touch Colby's hair again, then snatched his hand back. Stupid. Focus. He took a deep breath. “How about we cut your hair so it's too short to grab? Would that help?”
Colby's eyes widened, and his posture loosened slightly. “Really?”
“If you want,” Vic said, nodding. “Absolutely.”
Colby didn't answer, but his eyes were full of hope.
“Come on.” Vic slowly rose and moved away from the bed, heading for Colby's washroom. Colby eased out from beneath the covers and stood, then winced and instantly dropped to his hands and knees. Shit. Vic had completely forgotten about the cuts all over his feet. He waited while Colby crawled across the room, and switched on the washroom light, looking around to find the best way to go about this.
Vic patted the bathtub. “Come sit right here, champ. I'll be right back.”
Colby pulled himself up so he sat on the edge of the tub, his hands tucked up under his chin as he watched Vic leave the room. Vic hurried off to his own washroom and retrieved his grooming kit. Colby watched him curiously as he unpacked the pieces on the counter, debating just how short the boy's hair needed to go. It seemed a crime to cut off those beautiful curls, but if it made Colby feel safer, so be it.
Finally, he snapped on a guard and turned around.
“You know,” he said, eyeing Colby, then crouched down and tapped a finger on the sleeve of Colby's sweatshirt, “it'll be easier if you take these off.”
Colby drew back slightly, hunching his shoulders.
“You don't have to,” Vic rushed to add. “But it'll be more comfortable afterward.”
Colby studied his face for a moment, then slowly unzipped the hoodie and took it off, folding it carefully before he set it aside. He was even more hesitant with the two shirts he wore underneath, and sat there shivering once they were off.
Then Colby reached for the waistband of his pants.
“No, no, no.” Vic gently grabbed Colby's wrists and pushed his hands away. “Not that, kiddo.”
Colby let out a shuddering breath, and tucked his hands back up under his chin.
Vic moved closer, and reminded him, “I'm gonna have to touch your hair to do this. Is that alright?”
Colby shrank back a bit more, but managed a nod.
Vic gave him an encouraging smile, then switched on the clippers. Fear gave way to curiosity on Colby's face as the gentle buzzing sound filled the washroom. “Alright, here goes.”
Colby went utterly still as Vic cradled his head with one hand and worked the clippers with the other.
Vic cringed as the first few silky strands fell into the tub, but he kept going. It would grow back eventually. Besides, this might actually be for the best. Now that the sheer desire for Colby was stuck in Vic's head, the less temptation he had, the better.
Because all he wanted in that moment was to throw the clippers down and run his fingers through those curls.
And that was just the beginning.
Fuck. Vic really needed to stop thinking that way. He sucked in a breath and kept working, tilting Colby's head to one side so he could trim carefully around his ears. The move exposed an old scar on Colby's neck, and once it caught Vic's attention, all the other scars suddenly jumped out at him.
So many scars all over that little body. Short ones. Long ones. Faint, silvery ones. Thick, ropy ones. Cut scars, whip scars, burn scars. They were everywhere, a painting of torment on the canvas that was Colby's skin.
And there was Vic, lusting after the boy, even after all Colby had been through. Gods, what kind of a monster did that make him?
Taking a deep breath, Vic mentally recited contract procedure while he kept working, shearing off Colby's hair until there was nothing on the boy's head longer than an inch, too short on which to get a grip. He switched off the clippers and stepped aside, gesturing at the mirror.
“What do you think?”
Colby looked up, his eyes wide as he took in his reflection. He slowly reached up and touched his hair, then tried to curl his fingers into it and pull. He tried again, and again, then reached out and grabbed Vic's hand, pulling it to his head.
Vic caught on and tried to grab Colby's hair, but he couldn't keep hold of the short strands between his fingers.
Colby almost smiled.
Vic cleared his throat. “That better?” he asked, and Colby nodded. “Good. Now…” Moving slowly, Vic reached out and brushed the stray bits of hair off Colby's neck, and felt how tense Colby's shoulders were. And no wonder. After the day he'd had, spending time around so many strangers, and then his panic attack, followed by sitting there half-naked while Vic touched his hair, of course the boy would be wound up. “Tell you what.” He gathered the hair out of the tub and carried it over to the trash. “Why don't you take a hot bath, relax, and by the time you're done, dinner should be ready. How does that sound?”
Colby tilted his head, looking adorably puzzled.
“Have you ever taken a bath before?” Vic asked. “Or just showers?”
“Just showers,” Colby whispered.
“Well, here.” Vic reached past Colby, dropped the plug into the drain, and turned on the hot water, adjusting it so it wouldn't scald. “Let's get those bandages off. This'll be better than standing in the shower, anyway. Though the water might sting.”
Colby nodded solemnly, and Vic couldn't help but glance at the boy's body again. Of course Colby knew all about cuts stinging in water. All those scars. Good gods. The poor kid. Vic shook his head and tried to push those awful visuals aside.
He got the bandages off Colby's feet, then gestured at the tub. “Why don't you see if that's warm enough for you?”
Colby gave him another puzzled frown, then twisted and reached down to touch the water. He snatched his hand back, and Vic started to dart forward to shove the boy's hand under cold water instead, assuming he'd been burned, then saw the look of awe on Colby's face. Colby dunked his hand right back under the water, and lifted it back up slowly, watching the drops roll down his forearm.
Vic froze, staring at him.
Colby whirled around and dropped to his knees beside the tub, thrusting both arms under the water and lifting them up, staring at his hands, then dunking them again. He turned to look up at Vic with those big, beautiful eyes of his.
“How did you make the water warm?” he asked in an awed whisper.
Vic blinked. The boy didn't know water could be warm? “You've never felt hot water before?”
Colby shook his head.
Holy shit. Vic glanced at the shower, thought of every night when he heard the water come on for mere seconds at a time, never long enough to really get hot.
“Have you always showered like that?” he asked Colby. “Turning the water on just long enough to get wet and then rinse off?”
Colby nodded as though it should be obvious. “It's how Bad Man said to do it.”
Vic stared, then tightened his jaw. Gods damn you, Ahriman. He wanted to ring the bastard's neck. Blowing out a breath, he put a smile on his face and said, “From now on, I want you to turn the water on until it's comfortably warm, and leave it on while you shower, alright?”
Colby's eyes went wide. “I won't get in trouble?”
“No, kiddo. No, not at all. Besides, hot water is better for you.”
“It is?”
Vic nodded. “It cleans better. And it's relaxing.” He glanced at the tub and shut off the water before it could get too full. “Hop in there and just relax for a bit, alright? I'll go make dinner so you can have some privacy.”
Colby's hands went to the waist
band of his sweatpants, his little fingers twisting in the fabric as he hunched his shoulders, watching Vic step away. Vic paused at the doorway and dimmed the lights as low as they could go. Colby gasped and looked around, then let his shoulders relax slightly. Vic gave him a nod and walked out of the room, pulling the bedroom door shut as he left.
He stopped there, closed his eyes, and let out a sigh. That poor, sweet boy. Would there ever come a day when there was no new cruelty for him to learn about?
When he opened his eyes, he found one of Cam's notepads floating there, a question reflecting Vic's own thoughts.
He really didn't know that hot water was a thing?
Vic shook his head. “No.”
The pen went at it again. Gods, poor kid. Sorry, I was kinda eavesdropping but trying to stay out of sight.
“That's alright.” Vic headed for the kitchen, and Cam followed, the notepad hovering along at Vic's side. “This is your house, too, you know.”
I know. I just didn't want to freak him out again.
Vic gave Cam a nod of thanks and went about pulling things out for dinner.
That was a really nice thing you did. Cutting his hair, I mean. You have no idea how much I wanted something along those lines.
“What?” Vic asked. Cam had never mentioned anything like that. “And…how? You were in a coma–”
Yeah, but I was still very aware a lot of the time. I told you about all the things I heard you say to me when you visited.
Vic nodded slowly. That had been both thrilling and terrifying to learn, to find out—long after the fact—that Cam had been listening to all of Vic's ramblings every time Vic visited him at the hospital over the years. He couldn't remember half the things he'd ever said, though Cam had recited some of the more memorable ones, proving to Vic that he really had been aware despite not being able to respond.
And there were times I was very physically aware of my body even though I couldn't move, Cam went on. I still don't think I can describe how fucking awful it was to be trapped like that while feeling like my skin was crawling at the memory of what happened. And I couldn't DO anything about it, you know? Couldn't scrub myself raw like I wanted to, or bundle myself up when I needed it.
Vic cringed, trying to imagine himself in that situation. It was something he'd done several times over the years, initially as a matter of wishing he could take Cam's place, take Cam's suffering away and endure it himself. But this? Vic tried to picture being stuck in a hospital bed, conscious to some degree but otherwise paralyzed, unable to move or speak, unable to do anything for himself or ask for help, unable to express all his emotions, trapped within the nightmares of his own traumatic memories.
“I'm so sorry,” he choked out.
An invisible arm wrapped around his waist and gave him a squeeze, then pulled away again so Cam could write, I know. And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Cam leaned against him, and Vic got the sensation of the kid letting out a heavy sigh before he went on: I'm just saying…I get what he's going through. And I'm glad he's got you to help him. That's all.
Vic nodded slowly. “Thanks, Cam,” he murmured.
I'll bet that cutting his hair really makes things better for him. It'll be like a nice little reset, you know? Keeping the Bad Man from being able to grab him—even if it's all in his imagination now—and what grows back will be something that Bad Man never touched.
A hint of a smile pulled at Vic's mouth. “Yeah. I like that.” He ruffled Cam's hair. “Thanks, kiddo,” he said, then his stomach growled.
Cam shook beside him as though laughing, then wrote, Alright, human. Go get started on dinner. And make it something good so I can enjoy it vicariously. He added a winking smiley face.
Vic chuckled and shook his head. “Brat.”
You love me.
“Yeah, I do.” He bent to kiss the top of Cam's head. “Always.”
* * *
COLBY WRIGGLED down under the covers and let out a sigh, rubbing his head against the pillow so he could feel the pull on the short strands of hair. He still couldn't believe Vic had cut it for him. That Vic had allowed it to happen. He reached up and ran his hands over his head, smiling to himself. Bad Man wouldn't be able to force him as easily now.
He knew Bad Man was dead, of course, but the other Sirs were still out there, somewhere. Any one of them could take Colby away if they found him.
Colby glanced at the door, the outline just visible in the otherwise dark room. He'd been so sure, when Vic touched his hair, that Vic was finally going to use him, punish him, make him pay for everything Vic had given him. Instead, the man had just given more. Comforted him. Cut his hair. Made him warm.
A moan escaped him as he thought of the bath. He'd had no idea water could feel so good. Between the music and the bath and the soft, fluffy blankets on the bed, Colby couldn't remember ever feeling so good in his life. Even with the fright of being around Vic's friends, he couldn't think of a better day.
And he'd get more music tomorrow.
Smiling to himself, Colby drifted off to sleep, and didn't wake until the next morning when he heard a soft knock on the door.
“Colby?” Vic called. “You up, kiddo?”
Colby huddled down under the blankets, ran a hand over his head, then said, “Yes.”
A beat of silence passed, then the handle slowly moved and the door inched open. Vic looked in on him, and smiled. “Hey, champ. Good morning.”
“Hi,” Colby whispered.
“You stayed in bed again,” Vic pointed out.
Colby gave a slow nod.
Vic smiled. “Good. I'm glad.” He paused, then asked, “Are you hungry? I was just gonna go make breakfast.”
Colby nodded again and was going to wait for Vic to leave, then remembered about the music. Vic promised him more music if he left the room. He hesitated just a moment, then pushed the covers back and sat up, drawing his legs free of the sheets.
Vic glanced at Colby's bandaged feet. “Hmmm, you want me to carry you out there?”
Colby considered for a moment, then nodded. His nerves were still a little frayed, and leaving the room again would be scary enough as it was. He still didn't trust Vic completely, but he usually felt safe when Vic held him, and it definitely beat venturing out on his own, especially if he had to face any more surprise visitors.
Vic slowly entered the room, then reached out and pulled Colby's hood up over his head. Colby almost smiled as he felt the hood drag over the short hairs, reminding him once again, and when Vic held out his arms, Colby easily leaned into him, holding on to Vic's shoulders as Vic lifted him off the bed.
Vic made a strange, soft sound—little more than a sigh—as he pulled Colby against his chest, but when Colby looked up, Vic only gave him a smile and carried him out of the room. He set Colby on a stool at the kitchen counter, then went about grabbing plates and other things Colby didn't recognize.
“Once you get used to being out here,” Vic said as he worked, “I'll start teaching you how to cook and clean so you can help me. How does that sound?”
Colby slowly nodded. Vic had said something like that once before, and if it was a way he could pay for everything without Vic using his body, he'd take it.
“Think you're up for meeting Cam today?” Vic asked.
Colby tucked his hands under his chin. The idea of more strangers was scary, but Vic seemed eager for it. And, maybe, if Vic was happy, Colby might get more music. He made himself nod again.
Vic smiled. “Good. Cam's really looking forward to hanging out with you.”
Behind Colby, someone gasped. “Oooh, is it time?”
Colby yelped and twisted around, clutching the counter when he started to fall off the stool. Vic darted over and caught him just as he spotted the boy from yesterday, standing there with a big smile on his face.
“Hey, what is it, kiddo?” Vic asked. “What's wrong?”
Colby huddled against Vic and pointed. Vic glanced over his shoulder, a confused loo
k on his face for a moment before he said, “Oh. Is Cam here?”
Colby frowned. The boy was standing right there. How could Vic not see him?
“I'm dead,” the boy said. Colby peeked up at him, and saw him shrug. “Just a ghost, so only certain people can see me. Vic can't.”
Colby blinked, then looked up at Vic. “He's dead?” Colby whispered.
A look of pain flashed across Vic's face, then Vic recovered and nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced over his shoulder again, then put on a bittersweet smile. “Cam, this is Colby.”
Cam waved. “Hi.”
“And, Colby,” Vic continued, “this is Cam.” He paused, his smile turning fond. “My little brother.”
Chapter 12
“I'M NOT that little.”
Colby looked from Cam to Vic and back. He had no idea what a brother was, but he got the impression that Cam and Vic knew each other really well, and the more he looked, the more he realized they had similar features.
“Remind him he's only two years older than me,” Cam joked.
Colby tilted his head. “But he's so much bigger.”
“What's that?” Vic asked, looking all around. “What did Cam say?”
“He said to remind you that you're only two years older than him,” Colby told him, then frowned again. “You really can't hear him?”
Vic's smile fell, and he shook his head.
“Why?” Colby asked.
“Only some people can,” Vic said. “I called the hospital so they could run some tests, though I think that's only a formality at this point. It's very likely you're part Tanasian.”
“Like Summer!” Cam cut in, grinning.
“What's a summer?” Colby asked.
Vic looked surprised, then said, “Summer is a friend of ours. She's also Tanasian. She's the one who told me Cam's ghost was following me around after he died.”
“Oh.” Colby frowned, thinking. Something about that statement bothered him, but he couldn't quite work out what it was. Before he could make sense of it, Cam spoke up again.
