Loner

It’s getting dark when Eric enters the Starbucks, ordering himself a plain black coffee. He sits down and drinks it, not really tasting it, just more needing to drink it to have something to do. It keeps his hands busy, calms him down somewhat and keeps him from completely losing his mind.

Every year, on the days (sometimes even up to two weeks) leading up to this date, Eric’s mind works overtime, reminding him of things which he’d much rather kept buried in the past. These are things that normally can be silenced by enough drinks, or a really good fuck; but since he’s been getting regular good fucks with Bert now for the past few weeks, the memories haven’t been as easy to block out these past couple of days.

Every year, it’s the same story; the time leading up to his brother’s birthday is always like an open invitation for a reminder of every shitty thing that Eric’s ever had to endure as a child to come forward. Every year, Eric goes to his grave on the day that would have been his birthday, internally cursing him for ever leaving him with the mess he did. Every year, it hurts like no pain anyone has ever experienced, because it’s like an entire broken childhood is flashing before his eyes. Every year, Eric snaps, and considers hurting himself; but ends up hurting someone else instead. Tomorrow won’t be any different.

Eric closes his eyes, tries to take a few deep breaths, trying to calm his frantic heart rate. He downs the last of his coffee, and moves to head out of the shop. Clearly coffee isn’t going to cut it right now. With Adam’s birthday tomorrow, Eric can suddenly not get the memory of his brother’s death out of his mind.

“ADAM, LOOK OUT!” five year old Eric screamed, small voice piercing over the blaring music of his older brother. “We have to turn there!”

“FUCK!” the eighteen year old cursed, making a sharp turn, losing control, and colliding with another car.

For a few moments, which stretched out for a very long time in the five year old’s mind, all that could be heard was the screeching of tyres, and the sound of their collision, over the frantic beating of his five year old heart in his chest.

Somehow, Adam had fallen right out of the crashed car, hitting his head on the road.

He didn’t move.

The five year old quickly scrambled out of the car, heart beating frantically, sobbing heavily. He ran to his big brother, begging him to wake up, needing him to be okay. He tried reassuring him that they were already in their own street, and their house was right there, and that mommy and daddy would call an ambulance, and that Adam would be fine.

But Adam’s lifeless body didn’t hear a single word of his brother’s ramblings.

A neighbour lady from down the street, who the five year old knew as Mrs. Ballato, came rushing over to him. She was a very kind lady. She told Eric to sit with her four year old little girl, Lindsey, while she made calls to an ambulance and his parents.

“My daddy is at work,” Lindsey said.

“My daddy is drinking.”

Lindsey reached out her tiny hand, holding onto Eric’s. Eric closed his hand tightly around hers, and never wanted to let go.

Eric can feel his eyes stinging, but refuses to allow the tears to fall. He’d made the promise to himself a very long time ago that he wouldn’t cry. Crying is for the weak.

After Adam’s funeral, life at their home was pretty much unbearable. His parents were always fighting about everything. They were also always finding reasons to take some of their anger out on Eric. His mom cried a whole lot, and his dad was drinking more and more every passing day. Sometimes, the only time Eric felt okay, was when he snuck out to spend some time with Lindsey. She was a sweet friend, and a very welcome distraction. She also never asked questions, and Eric didn’t offer answers. It worked out well for everybody.

When his parents got divorced, it solved the problem of them fighting, at least. However, Eric was very aware of the fact that neither of his parents were very keen on keeping him around. He was the mistake, one that came after they already had a teenage son. He couldn’t help feeling resented for the fact that he survived the accident, when his brother, who was about to start college, died tragically.

After the divorce, whenever he had to spend time at his dad’s, he would live in constant fear that his life would be cut short. His dad would beat him almost daily, but Eric never said a word about it. Deep down, a part of him always hoped that his life would just end, and that he’d end up with Adam somewhere; where he would feel safe and loved.

As he grew up, and noticed that that didn’t happen, he resorted to other methods of outlet. He also ran away from home when he was sixteen, struggling and praying for a way for him to get out on top.

He can’t help but remember the day he ran into Lindsey again when he came back to the city, and how much he truly treasures having her in his life, seeing as how she’s pretty much always been the only one who wasn’t out to fuck him over.

"Lindsey?" Eric noticed the girl that he hadn't seen in quite a while. She'd grown up a lot, though. "Oh my goodness, it is you!" he grinned, enveloping her in a hug.

Lindsey was completely taken by surprise by the strange guy hugging her. There was a sense of familiarity about him, but he was hugging her close to him before she could even recall his name. She stepped back and took in the person before her.

"No way! Eric?"

"The one and only, baby," he grinned at her, placing a quick kiss to her cheek. "It's been so long! How have you been? You grew up quite nicely, might I add?"

Lindsey looked down at her breasts, knowing full well that that's not what he’d meant.

"I guess the girls did fill up nicely," she commented, pushing them up a little higher.

"Well," Eric tilted his head to the side, 'considering' her now accentuated chest, "they sure did. Nice job," he winked at her. "Seriously, though, it's so good to see you!"

Lindsey laughed out loud. Eric never took the bait. He knew Lindsey well enough not to.

"It's great to see you too, dude," she assured him. "It's been forever since you...left." she refrained from mentioning the fact that he ran away from home. "This is my girl, Chantal. Babe, this is Eric. We used to be, like, neighbours ancient years ago."

"Very nice to meet you, Chantal," Eric gave her a pleasant, warm smile, taking her hand gently in his, bringing it to his lips.

"You're quite the charmer," Chantal responded with a giggle. "Lin has told me about you."

"Has she, now?" Eric grinned, raising an eyebrow at Lindsey. "Hopefully only all things good and wonderful?" he smiled at Chantal.

"Is there anything else?" Lindsey grinned. "What did you hide from me?”

"Wouldn't you love to know, babe?" Eric winked. "Shall I take you lovely ladies to lunch?"

"Sure. We were just on our way to do just that. Where did you have in mind?"

If only she had known exactly how much he had changed from the little boy she had known when they were kids.

Eric allows his feet to carry him into a sketchy bar. Since his mind won’t shut up, he’ll force it. He can force anyone to do anything, after all; and that includes his own mind. The bar is seedy, and the music is trashy. Not a single soul in the bar is sober, so they're doing their job. Eric plops down in a seat, placing his order of JD with the bald barman. He looks around, scoping his fellow consumers, his eyes landing on a pretty blonde thing not too far away.

"Hey," he asks the barman, "get that little thing another round of what she's having," he points to the poor, unsuspecting girl.

The drink arrives in front of her out of nowhere, and she looks up at the barman questioningly, only to have him point at a cute guy with bleached hair a few seats away. She puts on her best flirty smile and gives a small wave in thanks. Maybe if she’s lucky, she'll get some distraction from her lousy boyfriend for the night.

Eric smirks to himself, ducking his head to appear shy. He looks back up, sure to make eye contact, and he can feel the moment she decides to come over to him. This is going to be fun.

She isn't in the mood to play the flirting game, and decides to just go over and introduce herself.

"Hey!"

"Hey, yourself! What's a pretty little thing like you doing hanging out here all alone?"

"I needed a break from my dead beat boyfriend, and this was the closest dive I could find. As you can probably tell, I'm not a regular."

Escaping the boyfriend, huh? This really is going to be fun!

"Well," he smirks at her, "I think it was fate bringing you here tonight, sugar. You look like you could use a distraction..."

There is something about this guy. She can't quite put her finger on it, but it is both scary and exciting at the same time.

"I don't know about fate," she starts, making sure to look at him seductively, "but I definitely need a distraction."

This is so bad of me, she thinks, but this guy is hot and I'm sure he knows exactly how to give someone like me a good time.

Putty. This girl is putty in his hands.

"Well, honey," he winks at her, "I've been told I'm a pretty good distraction." he makes a point of giving her a thorough once over, bringing his gaze back to her piercing blue eyes. "I can assure you, by the end of the night, you won't even remember your boyfriend's name."

Her stomach turns at his words. Maybe she needs to be a little more intoxicated to actually do this.

"Is this JD?" she asks, pointing at his glass?

With his smirk growing, he hands his drink over to her. Clearly, she's not used to doing this, if she needs liquid courage. This is going to be a very memorable night.

She gladly takes the drink from him, and downs it in a very unladylike manner.

"Sorry. I don't usually do this."

Eric chuckles softly, but not meanly, despite what is raging inside him, going straight to his cock.

"That's quite all right, sugar. You're in good hands."

"Am I?" she asks uncertainly, giving him another once over. He is cute as all hell, but she still doesn't know him.

Eric ducks his head, smiling softly, licking his lips. Clearing his throat, as he looks back up, he gently takes her hand in his, relishing in the soft skin. "What's your name, sugar?" he asks, stroking his thumb gently, reassuringly over her knuckles.

She needs this, she realises as her hormones start running furiously through her veins. Her throat is suddenly dry, and she practically croaks out her name.

"Jenny."

"What a lovely name, sugar," Eric purrs. "My name's Gerard, but you can call me Gee."

Getting little Jenny back to his place is surprisingly easy. It only takes two drinks, and his most dashing smile.

"Ladies first," he smiles politely, allowing her into his apartment first, smirking secretly to himself as he closes and locks the door behind him.

Jenny is still not quite sure of her decision to be here with Eric. Then again, he's treated her better in the hour that she’s known him than her stupid boyfriend ever did.

"Thank you." she steps into his apartment, and immediately has to admit that it's really nice.

"Make yourself at home," Eric says, again politely. "Would you like anything else to drink? Maybe a snack?"

Though, truthfully, he hopes that she'll say no, because he can't wait to get on with this. On the other hand, though, he wonders how willing she'll be to play along in her current, mostly sober state, once she realises exactly what's on the menu tonight.

Jenny shakes her head, knowing that if they do something else first, she will have time to change her mind; and she’s already come this far.

"Maybe just something to drink, or some of you," she boldly walks over to him and puts a hand on his chest.

Eric is pleased to see that she doesn't seem to be pulling out now. This may be her first time doing something like this, but she seems determined. He guesses that they'll see how long she stays that way. Perhaps if she starts squirming or resisting, it'll be more of a challenge for him. Although she's already knocked off a few points by giving her consent to this evening, he’s still sure that it'll scratch his itch. He can still tell that she'll be a lot of fun, either way. She'll be better than Bert, too, because he can tell that she won't be as pliant as he was. This baby has some fire in her, and he can't wait to extinguish it.

"Well, if you want some of me, that can be arranged, doll," he winks, pulling her hair harshly, forcefully kissing her with intense hunger.

Jenny definitely did not expect him to simply go in for the kill, but he is good at this. Maybe this is a good thing, after all. She pushes her entire body up against him, ready to have the night of her life.

Noticing that she's melting into it easily, Eric decides that it's safe to move things along a bit. This is definitely not about melting into each other, like a pair of soppy teenagers; although it was a very good way of successfully easing her into things. Now he just can't be fucked to care about that anymore.

He bites down hard on her lower lip, earning a small distressed sound to fall from her parted mouth.

"You're not bleeding, are you?" he asks, tightly holding her jaw in his one hand, checking potential damage to her lip with the other. "No. Good. I'd hate to have to clean blood off my dick."

With that, he shoves her bodily to her knees, holding her head in place, quickly fumbling with his belt.

"You're gonna put that mouth of yours to some good use, pumpkin."

"What?" she stutters, surprised by the change in both his tone and manner. She sucks at her now slightly sensitive bottom lip and stares up at him with wide eyes, trying to move her head away from him.

"You," Eric spits, laughing humourlessly, "you wanted this, baby girl."

His pants are finally open, and he quickly shimmies them down, along with his underwear, offering his growing cock to her, which she tries to squirm away from.

Ah. There's the fire.

"Suck, bitch!" he hisses, slapping her hard across the cheek.

Jenny whimpers. This is not what she’d agreed to. What have I gotten myself into? she wonders.

This guy isn't playing, though, so she pretends to be the ‘good little girl’, and complies with his demand, trying her best not to get sick.

"Yeah, baby, that's it," Eric encourages her, even as his fists are clenching into her hair, ensuring that she doesn't escape her task. "Bite, though, and I'll break your pretty little neck."

She knows that he is serious, so she doesn't try anything. Instead, she increases the force of her sucking, hoping that he'll let her go once this is over, and also just wanting to get it over and done with.

"Fuck," Eric groans. "Don't hold back on me, sugar!"

She doubles her sucking some, but he can tell that her fear is kicking in. A sigh rips from somewhere deep within his stomach. Why does he always have to do everything himself?

"Shit!" he moans out, holding her head more firmly in place as he shoves his hips forward at a satisfying pace. "Ugh!" he throws his head back, revelling in feeling himself hit the back of her throat, loving the way it tightens when she gags around him.

Jenny is choking, and she is going to be sick. She feels it every time he goes in, completely filling her mouth. She can't do this anymore. She pushes against his hips, trying to pull away.

"The more you, oh, fuck, struggle," Eric pants, thrusting more firmly, as she tries to shove distance between them, "the worse, oh, holy fucking shit," he groans, "it will become, sweetheart."

Her eyes are wide, and tearing up, and the sight has him rapidly approaching his climax.

"Are you, ugh, gonna be a good girl, sugar?"

She forces back the nausea threatening to overwhelm her and continue to suck obediently. This guy is a dick. What a revelation.

"I changed my mind, baby girl," he pants, pulling out of her abused mouth, trying not to blow his load as her mouth drags over his throbbing cock as he pulls her off. "There is a place much better that I'd like to...unload," he winks at her. "I mean, that is after all what you went looking for tonight, isn't it? For some guy to fuck you senseless. Well, dreams do come true, sugar."

She’s grateful for the chance to breathe. Then he makes that ridiculous suggestion, and she would rather suck him off. She shakes her head, sitting back and fighting to control her emotions.

"Oh, honey," Eric sighs, looking at her with faux sympathy. "We can to this the easy way, or the hard way." he pulls a switchblade out, pointing it at her. "If you cooperate, I won't need to use this, sugar. Now," he smirks, "what's it gonna be, baby?"

Jenny lets her tears run freely as she stumbles to her feet. She can try to make a run for it, and she does. She bolts for the front door, but the son of a bitch obviously thought of it, because it's locked. She turns around, terrified of what is going to happen next. She knew this was a bad idea.

Running into little Jenny at the front door, Eric immediately pushes her over onto the ground, slapping her cheek once more, for good measure.

"Don't fucking try running away from me, you stupid bitch! You wanted this, and now you better start cooperating, if you wanna walk out of here alive. Is that clear, whore?"

"Please, let me go," she begs desperately. "I haven't done anything to you!"

"Haven't done anything?" he spits, furious at the fact that the little bitch is actually trying to play the fucking victim. "Girls like you are all the same. You go out, with nothing in mind but getting some action. When it comes right down to it, though, you all pussy out. Well, I have news for you, sweetheart," he hisses, pinning her wrists above her head as she still tries her best to squirm out of his grasp. "You're gonna fucking take this, cocktease! And you're gonna be fucking grateful! Got that?"

"No! I didn't ask for this!" Jenny cries. "My boyfriend will kick your ass when he finds you."

"Oh, baby doll!" Eric smirks. "You haven't seen what I can do to men yet, have you?"

"No, how would I? I don't even know you," she breathes out as her last hope to get out of this situation slips through her fingers.

"That just gives me an idea, sugar tits. I think I can give you a choice," Eric says, remembering some of the videos that he has recorded of himself and various guys. "I can either fuck you first, and we can watch videos of what I've done with some guys in our post-coital bliss," he grins, "or we can watch the videos first, you know, as foreplay. What will it be, baby?"

That is not a choice, in her opinion. If they watch his pornos first, she'll kind of know what to expect, and that can be either a good or bad thing. If they watch it afterwards, he maybe won't even need to do with her whatever it is that he wants to show her. She knows that it’s a slim chance, but still. Maybe if she pretends that nothing has happened yet, and that he's still just some charming guy she met at a bar, maybe it will make this all more bearable.

"Well," he hisses, getting annoyed that the bitch still isn't answering him. "I asked you a question. What's it gonna be?"

"Let's do this. I'll give you what you want."

"Okay. I'm gonna get up, and you're gonna get on your hands and knees, sugar. If you try to run again, I'll cut you, and I'll fuck your boy right up the ass if he comes looking for me. That clear?"

She merely nods. By some miracle, she’s not even crying anymore. As he moves to get off of her, she gets up on all fours. If only I can get my hands on his knife, we'll see who cuts who then, she thinks.

"Don't even think about resisting, sugar tits," Eric grins, holding the blade at the ready. "Un-fucking-dress," he snaps. "Or do I have to do everything for you, bitch?"

Jenny doesn't move. If he wants this, he'll have to work for it. He's going to hurt her, no matter what she does. That's what he really wants to do.

"If that's how you wanna play, baby, I can play that way," he huffs, cutting her clothes from her body effortlessly, briefly wondering how she's going to explain that to her boyfriend, but quickly distracted by the smooth, pale skin that is revealed, just begging to be marked.

She shivers as her clothes leave her body in shreds. This is really happening, she thinks.

"So beautiful," Eric murmurs. "Say my name," he whispers, a little louder.

"Gerard," she manages through clenched teeth.

Fuck. Hearing his name spill from her lips, as he’s about to have his way with her, sends about a million tiny bolts straight to Eric’s already aching cock. He has to close his eyes, taking a few deep, steady breaths, not to blow his load right on the spot.

"Fuck," he moans, not giving her the courtesy nod to anything resembling foreplay as he shoves straight into her, loving how she clenches around him.

It's instant and painful, and Jenny cries out. She pulls away from him and grabs the nearest object that she can get her hands on. As she twists around, she hits him with as much force as she can, and her legs start kicking out violently. Her foot first connects with his leg, and then his stomach. She drops the doorstop that she’d used to hit him with and scrambles to her feet, making a run for it. Instinct takes her to the kitchen in search of a knife.

Running after little Jenny into the kitchen, Eric grabs a frying pan hanging by the stove, hitting her over the head with it. It seems that he was just in time, too, as she was reaching for a knife. As she crumbles to the ground, he hurriedly checks her pulse, glad that it's still present. He scoops her into his arms, carrying her to his bedroom. He makes quick work of cuffing her to the bedpost, before the little cocktease decides to wake up.

"Sweet dreams, little J," he smirks at her, bending down to suck one of her pert little nipples into his mouth, moaning at how sweet her skin tastes.

Satisfied, and confident that she's staying put for a while, he makes himself comfortable in the couch facing the bed, wrapping his hand firmly around his leaking cock, furiously pumping himself to release, watching her immobile form on the bed.

----

By morning, little Jenny is still out, and Eric is still confident that she’s staying put for a while. He gives her one last look, feeling a little smug for having her there, looking forward to what fun they’re no doubt still going to have – or, rather, what fun he’ll be having with her. Whether she’ll have much fun doesn’t really matter much to him.

Underneath, there is still an aching, nagging feeling clawing at his insides.

Today would have been his big brother’s birthday, and that’s something that he’ll likely never fully recover from. The one person who he was confident loved him unconditionally, the one person he had always looked up to, and the closest thing he actually had to a parent, the one person who he still wishes he had died in the place of years ago. Having been a little boy at the time, he believes the world wouldn’t even have missed him. Adam, on the other hand, still had his adulthood to look forward to, and was this close to being free of their parents. He was well on his way to becoming a valued member of society, when he was untimely ripped from this world, while Eric still spent years being nothing but a pathetic punching bag.

Mentally shaking himself, raking all his haywire emotions back together, he thoroughly scrubs every inch of his body under the warm spray of the shower. He shampoos his hair twice, and spends more time than strictly necessary towelling himself off and brushing his teeth. He shaves with all the care in the world, double-checking for any possible patches of stubble that might have escaped him.

He dresses in his best pair of dress pants and a nice button-up shirt, which he irons first. He shines his best pair of shoes, putting them on too.

He checks that little J is still out, grabs his wallet, phone and keys, and heads out the door.

On his way to the cemetery, he buys a single red rose. He’s quick and strictly business-like about it, wasting no time with other niceties.

At the cemetery, he has no trouble reaching the grave he’s looking for. For a few moments, he just stands there, staring at the words engraved on the headstone, feeling the tears beginning to sting his eyes. He clears his throat, forcing a smile on his face.

“Hey, big bro,” he greets, sitting himself down cross-legged, facing the headstone. “I brought you this,” he says, gesturing to the lone rose. “Remember when you had that one girlfriend,” he chuckles fondly at the memory, “Bianca, I think was her name? Anyway, I remember that she gave you a red rose once,” he smiles, twisting the rose between his fingers as he speaks. “I remember you sat me down, telling me that it’s really cool to give girls flowers, but there is nothing wrong with a guy receiving flowers too.” He laughs, shaking his head. “I think you were subtly trying to tell me that guys are allowed to be vulnerable too sometimes.” Tears are beginning to roll down his cheeks. “I was very little at the time, but I took that to heart. I learned so much from you when I was growing up, even after you weren’t around anymore.” He wipes at the tears on his face, his vision going a little blurry. “I really could have used you around, though, Adam,” he chokes out on a sob, “For a while, I tried finding guys like you to date, just to feel at home, you know? I never did, though. No matter what I did, I never got my big brother, my closest thing to an actual parent, back,” he allows his sobs to rip through his body, consuming him.

He looks back up at the headstone through his blurry vision, laying the rose gently down on top, feeling his heart break all over again.

“I’m so sorry, bro,” he sobs. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t the one to die that day. I’m sorry that I survived, and ended up being a giant screw up. I’m sorry I couldn’t turn into you, big bro. I’m so, so sorry.”

The silence his words are met with only leaves him feeling even emptier. It feels like the coldest confirmation that his brother isn’t with him anymore. He’s alone. The sun shining down on him brings him no comfort, and neither does the light breeze he feels on his skin.

“If you can see me,” he whispers, “you know, as I go about my daily life? Please forgive me? For the things I do, and for what I did to my hair,” he chuckles.

Suddenly, it gets to be too much for him. His heart clenches painfully, and he doesn’t have the strength to be here anymore. He knows he needs to get out of here fast. He needs to be distracted from this all.

“Happy Birthday, Adam,” he says, getting up and ready to leave. “I love you, big bro.”

Out of the cemetery, on his way back home, it’s like his tears are swallowed back into his body. His hard walls shoot back up firmly into their familiar places, covering his every emotion. He puts any thoughts of his brother back to the very back of his mind, like an instant shift.

He’s barely back home when he gets a text inviting him to hang out with Bert, Gerard and Frank. He smirks at the thought. Sure, he would have preferred to spend some quality one on one time with just Gerard, preferably with no clothes involved; but he could be flexible and somewhat patient. If it takes a while to get Gerard writhing beneath him, that’s fine. He knows it’ll be worth the wait.

Notes

Hello to any readers we still have left after months of waiting for this update and then after this heavy chapter.
Sorry about this chapter taking forever, but hopefully it was worth the wait. It definitely wasn't intentional. We've both just been busy with our own things and the chapter wasn't exactly easy to write either. We started over a few times and scratched a lot of the stuff we originally wrote for it. We're both happy with the end result. Hopefully you were too.
Please feel free to give us any and all of your thoughts on this.
xoxo