Evenfall (101 page)

He didn't like not knowing exactly how much Sin knew. It was a disturbing feeling for such a private person as himself. At the same time, he had to acknowledge that he had violated Sin's privacy plenty of times. Hadn't he been the one watching Sin on the hidden cameras in his apartment? Hadn't he seen videos of Sin's past that he may not have wanted him to see, like that session with Lydia?

He grimaced and sat back on the couch, his fingers flexing on the water bottle and jaw twitching. "I don't know."

He hesitated, for a moment wanting to just end this conversation and walk away. Being reminded of how much Sin seemed to know without his permission only made him feel less inclined to continue. And the casual way Sin threw out facts from Lou's past made him not want to share anything, as if Sin would casually mention elsewhere anything that Boyd told him here.

But he didn't think Sin would do that. And he knew walking away wouldn't solve anything. It would probably only make it worse between them for no reason other than his own territorial sense of privacy.

"Probably. He didn't include me on any of that. Sometimes he just came home with money and if I asked where it came from..." Boyd gestured vaguely and then dropped his hand, shaking his head to himself. He paused and then looked over at Sin. "I'd never met Jared and didn't really know about him but I knew some things. Places Lou wouldn't let me go and people he told me to avoid if they came near or called. He was very protective of me. He said it was because I was going someplace in life and he didn't want me distracted. I don't think he ever wanted me pulled into any of that but Jared--"

Boyd cut himself off, looking toward the balcony with hooded eyes and shrugging stiffly. "Jared was a sociopath who killed Lou for winning in a fistfight a week before. Can you believe that?" Boyd demanded. "A fucking
fistfight
. Lou punched him and-- and in return, Jared--" Boyd cut himself off again, this time with a sharp gesture and a glare at the sliding glass doors.

"And he was going to kill you because you just happened to be there, I assume." Sin seemed to consider this all before he crossed his arms over his chest, sitting back. "What does this have to do with your tattoo?"

Boyd was silent, thinking about that as he took a drink of water, his expression pensive. After a moment he sighed and shifted against the couch, looking over at Sin. "I know I said it before, but Lou meant everything to me. We grew up together, lost our parents together-- he was my first friend and first lover. I didn't know how to live without him. Losing him..."

His eyes narrowed and he couldn't help tensing as he remembered back to that time. As it all seemed too fresh; too recent. He let out a short, sharp breath, unable to entirely stop the tension in his shoulders. He leaned forward and set the water bottle on the coffee table and stood up. He turned as if he was going to walk to the kitchen but then stopped himself; made himself turn around and face Sin again. He crossed his arms and shifted on his feet.

"Lou kept saying he wanted to live together. He'd been telling me that for years-- if he could just save up enough money, maybe then I'd want to leave my home. Maybe then we could get our own place. But I was just so--" Boyd stopped and gestured, his eyebrows lowering before he shook his head. "I don't know. The point is, the war hit practically when I was born. We grew up in the aftermath. We saw a lot of people die and for awhile we didn't know how long we would make it either. Lou used to joke that if he made it to sixteen, he'd live forever. So... I don't even remember how it came up but we got this stupid idea to get tattoos-- like putting something permanent on us would ensure we could never forget or leave the other and we'd both be okay."

He fell silent a moment, his jaw setting before he turned away and did walk to the kitchen this time, although all he ended up doing was turning and leaning against the counter. "We ended up looking up some Latin phrases and decided to both get tattoos. He got Luctor et Emergo-- I struggle but I'll survive. And I," he touched his lower left stomach near his hip, "got Ad Vitam Paramus-- We are preparing for life." His lips twisted bitterly. "I'd started to believe him, you know? That everything would be okay. That we could grow old together, that he could make it out of anything and that he'd always come back for me. He'd always be there for me. I really believed we'd make it."

"So, why was this a big secret?" Sin asked, eyebrows drawing together slightly. "Just because it's about him?"

"Partially," Boyd said, and then sighed. He walked back over to the couch and sat down. "But partially because of what else happened. Seeing Lou killed right in front of me-- having to see it and hear it and feel it--" He grimaced and looked away, running a hand back through his hair and trying to ignore the memory of how that had been. "I couldn't sleep or eat or-- I was devastated. I didn't want to live without him. And I blamed myself for not stopping it or saving him after all the times he'd saved me. For not being strong enough..."

He trailed off briefly. "At first I thought I deserved to remember that forever, just like--" He stopped himself from saying, just like Jared said. He shook his head. "I went back to that tattoo parlor and got the ones on my back. But when I was there, all I could think about was Lou and I knew it wasn't enough. It never would be. It only made everything worse." He shook his head. "I got so angry and depressed. When I got home, I don't even remember how it happened but I saw that damn tattoo on my hip and it reminded me of everything I'd lost. I wanted it gone. So I grabbed a kitchen knife and just-- started stabbing."

Sin's eyes narrowed slightly and he nodded, standing up and grabbing his own pants. He was silent for a brief time before saying at length, "I'd read about two suicide attempts in your file, although your mother attempted to lie about the first one so it was unclear."

Boyd shook his head, not even able to be surprised that such information was in his file, aside from the fact that his mother had allowed it. "She thought I was being dramatic and that I'd get over it. And I don't think she wanted it on official record that her son was suicidal. But when she brought me home I was still so depressed that all I wanted was to die. So I went to the bathroom and slit my wrists. I wasn't thinking-- it didn't even occur to me that I should wait until she was gone. It was stupid, really. She found me and brought me to a different hospital. They wanted to keep me in the psych ward but she wouldn't allow it."

"I'm surprised they let her remove you."

"She probably used her connections."

Boyd paused and then shook his head. He was growing tired of rehashing all of this. Having to lay bare the story of the worst time of his life was painful and somewhat disturbing because it made him feel vulnerable-- and yet at the same time he felt compelled to finish. Not only because now that he'd started he just wanted to unload the totality of that chapter of his life, but also because part of him wanted Sin to know. Part of him wanted Sin to understand why some things had happened between them the way it had.

He looked away and ran a hand back through his hair, the movement a little stiff. "Anyway, I think she wanted to ensure I couldn't try to kill myself again but couldn't be around constantly to watch. The next thing I knew, I woke up tied to the bed. I think she drugged me so I wouldn't resist and then left me."

At that, Sin stopped with his arm half-extended to grab his shirt from the floor and looked at Boyd with surprise. "What do you mean she left you? For how long?"

"I don't know," Boyd admitted uncomfortably, not looking Sin straight in the face. "I was really--" He cut himself off, staring out the window with narrowed eyes for a moment before shifting his gaze back to Sin. "I was so messed up. I don't have clear memories of that time-- a lot of confusion and terror and screaming and things that may not even have been real. I didn't know what I wanted more; for someone to let me go or for someone to kill me."

Sin finished the motion and grabbed his shirt although he didn't put it on. "How long have you had merinthophobia?"

"I don't know," Boyd said again with a sigh. He moved the water bottle between his hands absently. "I don't recall ever loving being restrained but I don't remember having a huge issue with it either. I think it mostly stemmed from being forced down and held there while Jared--" His jaw twitched and he looked down at the bottle. "While they killed Lou in front of me. I've always needed some amount of control over my environment and they took that from me at the same time that they took away my life as I knew it. Everything afterward just made it worse."

Sin sat down beside him and there was silence for a moment. He looked over at Boyd, eyes flicking over him and resting briefly on his shirt before rising to his face again.

"I don't see why you didn't just tell me this earlier. It would have made things easier. You know things about my past."

Boyd was silent a moment and then sighed, sliding the water bottle onto the table and looking over at Sin. "It's difficult enough to talk about even now when we're on good terms. That whole experience nearly killed me and it took me years to become functional again. I spent a lot of time trying to pretend it never happened. I did want to talk to you after my birthday and after everything in France, but..."

He shook his head. "Seeing that necklace out of nowhere hit me really hard. I needed time to think at first and then everything had gone to hell again and the chance was gone. But it was important to me that you know so that's why I wanted to tell you now, before I could lose the opportunity again."

It seemed for a moment that Sin would say something else on the topic, but he just shook his head and ran a hand through his dyed spiky hair. "What does your mother say about it? What was her take on the entire situation?"

"She thinks it's a disgrace to my father's name and refers to it as my 'little drama,'" Boyd said, unable to keep the slight bitterness from his tone. He'd never felt alright with her belittling Lou's murder. "I think that was her main motivation behind taking me out of the hospital. She probably didn't want the stigma of having an officially suicidal son. People would talk."

"I'd love to say I'm surprised but I'm not." There was another silence where it seemed to Boyd that Sin was picking his words carefully. It was one of the things about him that had changed over time following the Harry incident.

"But not everyone thinks like her. I can't help thinking you thought I would judge you."

The comment made Boyd look up at Sin, studying him more seriously. Sin's full lips were turned down in a frown and that made Boyd wonder if Sin didn't like the idea. He reached over, resting his hand on Sin's thigh briefly. "It wasn't really that. At first I was just too afraid to open myself up to anyone at all. It had too many painful memories and I'd run the risk of the reaction being anything like my mother's. But by the time I did plan to tell you, none of that mattered anymore. I just wanted you to know and didn't even consider how you would react."

Sin raised an eyebrow at that. "Why? Because I was getting tired of your evasive bullshit?"

"Well, I suppose that was part of it-- I didn't want to lose your friendship over my inability to share anything of import with you." Boyd slid his hand away from Sin's thigh, watching his partner with an open expression. "But more than anything, it's because I trust you. You've told me about yourself and I wanted to do the same with you. I wanted to stop feeling like I had to hide anything around you."

Sin raised an eyebrow and studied Boyd for a long moment as if he were trying to gauge the sincerity of his words. After awhile he let his eyes drop and reached out again, running his hand lightly over the front of Boyd's shirt. "Do you trust me enough to let me see under your shirt?"

Boyd couldn't help tensing slightly at the question, at the idea of showing anyone, but he knew it was time to stop fearing something that he couldn't deny anymore had happened. In truth, he wanted to show Sin. He wanted to be liberated of even one of the pathological fears that he had gained those years ago. He wanted to be able to let go.

"Yes," he said seriously.

He kept Sin's gaze for a long moment and then reached down to grip the hem of his shirt. It felt strange to even consider doing this after years of avoiding even looking at anything himself. But that didn't stop him from scrunching the fabric in his fingers and, not giving himself a chance to think about it, pulling the shirt off over his head.

His stomach automatically tightened when fresh air hit his skin in the open for the first time in years. He wanted to look away but he also wanted to watch Sin, so his gaze kept catching and straying as he leaned back on his hands, his fingers pressing into the cushion.

Sin studied them calmly, his expression unreadable even as he traced the scars lightly with his hand. Beneath the web of scars, Boyd's skin was pale while his chest and stomach were as well toned as the rest of his body. Boyd could feel his skin tingling everywhere Sin touched.

Sin's eyes rose and he raised an eyebrow at Boyd as a half smirk found its way onto his face. "Does that mean we can take a shower together some time? Without wounds being involved."

The question caught Boyd off guard. He raised his eyebrows and his eyes centered on Sin's face. On those eyes that weren't judging him and on the feeling of those powerful hands moving gently against his skin.

He couldn't keep himself from smiling-- a relieved and startled reaction; almost heady from the release of the tension that had been building in him unknowingly. "Maybe," he said lightly. "If you ask nicely."