A Questionable Excuse

Julian shook a little at the thought of telling Dylan no. He didn't want to upset his boyfriend even more, but Julian couldn't see him make so much progress just to throw it away... "Dylan." He murmured, biting his bottom lip a little. He squeezed his boyfriend a little tighter, his fingers frantically grabbing Dylan's. "Baby..."

He kicked the bottle a little further away, shaking his head. "You don't need it. I'm here for you. We can get through this together."

(Yesss. sorry this is so short. didn't wanna type it all up again)

Despite the comforting tone of Julian’s voice, his words just served to aggravate Dylan. “God dammit Julian,” he muttered, pulling away from the smaller boy and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Maybe the worst thing that’s ever happened to you was having your mommy and daddy hate the fact that you’re queer. Maybe you just don’t understand what I’m going through right now… but you’re being really fucking retarded.” He brought his hand down towards his waist, clenching his fists tightly.

“People drink all the time. Alcohol isn’t some evil drug that’s going to kill me. It’s a relaxation tool that everyone uses.” Glaring at Julian, he stood up and lifted the bottle from the floor. “I don’t need you to help me ‘get through this.’ I shouldn’t even care if my mother is going to marry him. I hate her and I hate him. They deserve each other. And if you really cared about me, you wouldn’t mind if I had a few drinks.” He took a breath and opened the bottle, silently daring Julian to say something.

Julian clenched his teeth when Dylan pulled away. He knew that he'd get shit for that answer. And he wasn't positive how he would reply to that either. But then he heard what Dylan had to say. It hurt him, sure. But he could live with it. He could live with his boyfriend. However, it was then that Julian spoke up. "Why do you need it so badly?" He asked, standing up. The boy looked at Dylan daringly, his chin quivering a little.

"Fine. If you don't need me and you're going to take a drink of that, then I'm leaving." He didn't mean permanently. It took a lot of nerve, saying that to Dylan. And he wasn't even sure why it came out.

“I need it so badly because having to look at your ugly face every day certainly doesn’t relax me,” he smirked and lifted the bottle to his lips. It was partially true. Looking at Julian; wanting Julian, made him crave the bottle almost as much as being alone. Yet, having someone who loved him around had made him strong enough to quit, at least for a little bit. He took a painfully long drink. Who cared about Julian? Well, if he got drunk enough, certainly not him.

“I’ve missed enough work because of you anyway,” he said nonchalantly, turning away from his boyfriend and waving a hand as if shooing away an animal. “Go on, leave. You’ll come crawling back when you realize how useless you are without me.”

Dylan's words stung, but there was nothing Julian could do about it. He couldn't look weak. Especially with Dylan. He needed to be strong for Dylan. To show his boyfriend that he could be strong as well, to conquer that terrible alcohol. He said nothing and stepped into Dylan's bedroom, grabbing up some clothes. He pulled on a large sweater some pants that were too big for him anyway. His shoes were on quickly and he stepped towards the door.

He couldn't stop or look back, otherwise he'd regret it and couldn't follow through. The boy walked down the street quickly, arriving at his house without a word or a glance from his parents. When he hit his bed, Julian began sobbing. He could go to school now, the bruises on hisface weren't so bad. He could take a break from Dylan. He could. Couldn't he?

As always, the first thing that Dylan did when faced with emotional turmoil was drink… a lot. It was a normal reaction for him, a perfectly natural way of living. He choked back tears soon afterwards, refusing to let himself cry. He was better than that; stronger. Losing one boy for a few days, if that, wasn’t going to make him fall apart. Julian wasn’t worth it… no one was.

It was just a break anyway. Julian would be back. They hadn’t officially broken up. It was just a break; a short, insignificant break. It wasn’t his fault either. It never was. The other boy was just overreacting to his alcohol usage. He could stop anytime. He could put down the bottle in his hand right now and never take another sip. The question was, why would he want to? And with every sip, each reason that he was upset became a silly little thing that really didn’t matter at all. After polishing off that bottle, he couldn’t stand up without falling over. But he was happy. And that was all that mattered.

Julian didn't return for a few days. He'd avoided school claiming that he felt sick, which really he did. He told his parents that he'd returned from the retreat early because he wasn't feeling well. He hardly ate anything and became spun out on the same pills that he'd taken around Dylan. The 'diet' pills. They did curb his hunger, though now his stomach was so shrunk that he didn't feel it much anyway.

When he finally did return to Dylan's, the boy looked thinner than before. He had bags under his eyes and they were a little bloodshot. He hadn't been able to get any sleep. He'd just laid in his bed, paced his room. It wouldn't be surprising if there was a dent in the carpet where he'd walked. He opened the front door, assuming it was open and stepped inside. "Dylan...?" His voice sounded different, almost broken. Who was he, to think that he could live without his boyfriend? He was useless, laying around and stupid. "Dylan?"

When Julian had left, Dylan went on living normally. He had a bit more to drink every night, but he could still function. He’d left his job… well he’d been fired. Apparently, showing up drunk three afternoons in a row was ‘a cause for concern.’ His snooty, know it all boss had told him that he should ‘get help.’ Well she was a bitch. Really, he was doing fine. It was everyone else that had a problem. They weren’t really happy. They pretended that everything was okay, but their lives were incomplete. No one could really be happy without help.

And lately, he’d had a lot of help. He’d just started smoking when Julian came in. It wasn’t much today. A few bowls. But when he heard the other boy’s voice, he quickly hid them. “What are you doing here?” He asked, walking out of his room and into the living room. His hair was a mess, clothing wrinkled, and he smelled so strongly of pot that he was sure the neighbors could smell him. “You’re s’possed to knock first,” he looked to Julian expectantly.

"I'm sorry..." He murmured, looking down to the ground. Dylan's place could use some cleaning up. Julian usually helped take on that task, but now that he wasn't here... And the boy had smelt the pot down the hall. He blinked and clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes on the floor until he was sure that he could look at Dylan with resolve. "I'm sorry I left." It had only been three days, but it had felt like a century.

"I feel terrible that I left and wasn't here for you. I just got angry." Julian never got angry. He was usually always calm natured and sweet. Maybe that beating had really worn him down. "Will you forgive me?" He asked, finally looking back up to Dylan.

“Whatever,” Dylan said with a shrug. Why had they been angry at each other in the first place? The fog in his mind made him want to laugh at the notion. They had gotten into a fight? Wait… about his drinking. He smiled at Julian, who was looking prettier than usual, and all but collapsed on the couch. “Why wouldn’t I forgive you?” He looked to Julian for an answer to his question, then seemed to forget what his question was.

He rested his head on the arm of the couch. “Are you back to get something?” he asked, no emotion behind the words. “I don’t think you left anything here when you left me. Except that you left me here. But that doesn’t matter, right? Are you leaving now?” Every thought sounded as if it were an afterthought; snippets of what he was thinking… snippets that made no sense at all.

Julian's eyes watched Dylan as he stepped over to the couch. He watched the older male somewhat cautiously. Not because he was afraid that something would happen to him, but because he was worried about his boyfriend. He'd tried to look as best he could. He'd cleaned up the remaining bruises on his cheeks with a little makeup, and even put on some eyeliner. His pants were tighter and he was wearing a tight tanktop with a sleeveless hooded vest over it that fell to mid-thigh.

He paused before he spoke, stepping a few feet closer to Dylan. "I'm sorry. I didn't come here for anything. I just wanted to make sure you're okay. I didn't mean to leave so angrily the other night... I just. I don't like seeing you like this." He answered softly, obviously very worried about Dylan.

“You don’t like seeing me like this…” Dylan echoed, “In other words, you hate to see me happy.” He stayed in the same position, not moving a muscle. If he hadn’t blinked, he could have been easily mistaken for any other sleeping young man. Except for the fact that he looked like crap. His teachers had apparently “expressed concern” as well, sending letters to his so called parents. He only knew this because his loving mother had called.

And Julian sounded just like her with his wanting to make sure that Dylan was okay. “And for your information, I’m perfect. Seriously, you don’t know what it’s like to be happy all the time, do you?” He smiled despite his earlier comments. “It’s amazing. Everything is going just perfectly for me. You really should try it sometime.”

Julian listened quietly, not moving any closer to Dylan. When he was sure that his boyfriend was done, he spoke up again. It was surprising. Julian and Dylan hardly fought, and if they did it was usually one sided. Dylan being angry. "I am happy... I'm happy when I'm with you." Julian was never happy with himself. He always had to pretend, and Dylan knew that.

"I just... You drink so much! You shouldn't need to." He paused, not really concious of the next few words that came from his mouth. "Maybe you're just not happy with me." Julian regretted the words right as he said them. "I'm a fuck up. I'm bringing you down, I know it." He murmured, shaking his head. "You don't need me. You've never really needed me. Maybe we should end this." He wasn't completely sincere with these words. He had the shittiest time without Dylan. There was no way he could live without him.

“Don’t be such a hypocrite,” Dylan retorted quietly, shaking his head. “And don’t lie to me either.” He rolled over, stomach down and covered his eyes with the arm chair. Was this really happening? Julian was a fucking liar. He had promised never to leave, and now he was going to. It was no fair. Nothing was fair anymore. “You’re not happy around me. That’s why you want to leave me.”

He lifted his head up and looked towards Julian, surprised to find his cheeks wet. Goddammit… he was crying. “Go ahead and leave, but if you do, you won’t hear from me again” he promised. He put his head down again, both ashamed of his tears and sure that his head was way too heavy for his neck right now. “What the fuck are you waiting for? Get out.”

That was not a response he'd been expecting. Or maybe it really was. Dylan didn't want him. Dylan was fine with him leaving. That's how little Julian meant. He was worthless enough to walk out. But then he saw Dylan's tears. Those tears were enough to break Julian. Down to his barest form. Down to his disgustingly base figure. The boy didn't speak at first, then stepped forward towards Dylan.

He fell weakly to his knees in front of Dylan, shaking his head. The tears came easily, and he didn't even have to try. "I'm sorry... I don't want to leave. I just... You're right." He shook his head, grabbing Dyln's arm. "It's me. I just... I need you. I've been so critical of you. You don't deserve that. You'r perfect. I'm just... I'm afraid you'll leave me." He swallowed back a sob. "Because I'm not worth it. I'm making you be something you're not because I'm unhappy with myself." He lowered his head onto the couch cushion. "I will never leave. I'm sorry I've been so horrid."

Liar liar liar. He hated it when people were liars. He had been fine before Julian had come in and made him cry. He had been happy and now the stupid little faggot was ruining everything. God, he just wanted to be alone. He never wanted to see Julian again. His boyfriend had made him cry. He’d finally made Dylan crack. And it wasn’t going to happen again… ever.

“I told you to leave!” He yelled, standing up with a bit of trouble. He towered over Julian, who was still on his knees, and pulled him up. “This is my apartment. I pay the rent; I decide who is going to be here.” He shoved Julian towards the door and somewhere past his haze; he couldn’t help but wonder how much the other boy weighed. He was so light. “You’re right, I don’t need you. You’re useless and ugly and I never want to see you again.” He began to walk away, only to fall down only a few feet away from Julian. Had his body always been so heavy? He somehow got over to the couch and pulled himself up. “I hate you,” He muttered, finding his way to his bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

Julian should have expected such a reaction. He was pathetic, sitting there begging for Dylan's forgiveness. Why would he ever think that he deserved his boyfriend back? Julian was a joke. A stupid, ugly joke. And here Dylan was even telling him so. He'd done nothing to deserve to be happy with anyone. Of course he should have expected this reaction.

But even when Dylan shoved him towards the door, he did not leave. He stood there until his boyfriend moved back to his bedroom, then sat down on an armchair. Those words stung. He probably wouldn't even be able to move anyway, get out of this house after those words. He could do absolutely nothing. The boy took in a breath and closed his eyes, then let it out slowly. He'd stay here until the morning. See how Dylan was then. Hopefully he'd sleep off his anger and they could talk about this. Julian was just like a kicked puppy sitting there, waiting for Dylan to kick him out for good.

Dylan woke in a cold sweat. He’d been having the same dream, over and over again, for the past few weeks. Well, he thought he’d been having the same dream. In truth, he didn’t know. He couldn’t remember anything about the dream other then the hands; huge hands with sharpened fingernails. They would always come towards him, and then he’d wake up. There was more to the dream, but he just couldn’t remember what it was.

He sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed in a daze. Then he remembered. Good god, he’d practically broken up with Julian last night. The older boy buried his head in his hands. Julian was the only thing he had and he had told him to leave. He’d even used the word hate. He was the one who deserved to be hated.

Walking into the living room, Dylan spotted Julian on the couch. It was pretty early, around six. “I… I’m sorry,” he muttered in the entryway, rubbing the back of his neck.

Julian had hardly been able to sleep, considering he had no reason to and he hadn't slept the entire week. Maybe one or two hours here and there. But other than that he was strung out on those 'diet' pills and obsessed with the thoughts of Dylan. Dylan, who had broke up with him. So when he heard his boyfriend stirring the boy opened his eyes. They'd been closed, but only for that purpose exactly. Sleep had evaded him.

"Dylan..." He sat up slowly, looking over to his boyfriend. He wanted to step over and tell him it was okay. That he understood. So he stood up and stepped over, grabbing his boyfriend's hand. "I am too... I know you told me to leave but I just... I couldn't." He looked down to the ground, his thin fingers squeezing Dylan's a little. "I'm sorry..."

“I’m the one who should be sorry.” Dylan squeezed Julian’ hand gently and led him toward the sofa. “I was wrong saying such awful things to you. I just wasn’t thinking. I was upset.” He sat down, pulling his boyfriend down with him. “But I forgive you for what you did. As long as you stop trying to change me. I’m a big boy Julian; I can take care of myself without your help.”

He took a deep breath and rested his head against his hand. Julian really looked sick, and for the first time since they had started dating, almost a year back, he had to say something about it. “You look terrible,” he stated bluntly, “have you been back to school yet, or have you been sick? You know, I can drive you today if you’d like. It could be my ‘getting back together’ gift to you.” He leaned forward and kissed Julian softly, pulling away after a few seconds.

Julian nodded his head, glad that Dylan was the one to initiate the affection. Now he wouldn't make his boyfriend upset by being affectionate. He had an excuse. They were making up. "I know. I'm sorry. I just got scared..." He answered softly, running his fingers over Dylan's.

"I look terrible?" Julian honestly didn't know how to take that, or how Dylan meant it. "What do you mean?" He asked softly, looking down at his own fingers. Of course he had bags under his eyes and looked very tired, but did Dylan mean the rest of him too? He really didn't want to go back to school, but he knew that he should. "Okay..." He laughed softly and pressed gently into the kiss, a little smile curling on his lips. "I'd like that."

Dylan could have continued kissing Julian all day. His lips were so soft, his demeanor so small, his body equally as small. He was perfect; perfect for Dylan and perfect all around. Why had he ever broken up with the other boy? He chose not to answer Julian’s first question, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

“Okay then,” he said, standing up and pulling Julian up with him, “Let’s go then. If we don’t leave now, we’ll never make it on time.” Actually, it took maybe fourty-five minutes to get to the high school from his house, and school didn’t start for nearly an hour and a half. But he was just so excited about helping Julian that he didn’t think about that. He leaned over and got his wallet and key from the table-drawer next to the couch.

Julian smiled at Dylan, but didn't pull away. He could tell now that his boyfriend was in an affectionate mood. And when he was, it was alright to be close to him like this. It was okay to be gentle and loving, and Julian felt complete then. Even though he'd been yelled at the night before. Even though a little over a weak ago he'd gotten a terrible beating by Dylan. Everything was fine now.

"Okay..." Julian wasn't going to protest because Dylan seemed so excited and happy at the moment. Why would he even think about saying that school didn't start until later? Julian had his backpack, but had not planned on going to school. So all of his notebooks were still at his house. That didn't matter though. He just wanted to keep up this cheery environment. "Mmn." He pulled up the backpack and pulled it on. "I'm ready to go."

When they left the apartment, Dylan dropped Julian’s hand quickly. He looked around for a moment, and looked down quickly when he noticed one of his neighbors down the hallway. “Come on,” he whispered to Julian, rushing out of the building. She hadn’t seen the two. It was okay. He wouldn’t get any odd looks on his way back in. None of his neighbors would ever find out that Julian was his boyfriend.

His car was a mess, yet when he opened the driver’s side and waited for Julian to get into the passenger seat, he looked around with pride. This was probably the crappiest car on the market; no back doors, no air conditioning, and windows that had to be manually rolled down. But it was his. He’d spent his money on it and he’d fixed it up. Julian had been in it before, but never when it was in such disrepair. Once Julian was in the car, he started driving.

The high of his boyfriend being so close to him and forgiving him and forgetting the little situation they'd had did not distract Julian from what happened then. Honestly, he was used to it though. It was a pain to get Dylan to go out with him anywhere, and if they did it had to be strictly platonic. No loving kisses, no affection. No holding hands.

The boy smiled as he took a seat in the car. He'd have to clean it up for Dylan... But he didn't want to make any remarks about it, not now at least. "Thank you so much for this." He smiled to his boyfriend. Their trip was mostly silent, but not in an uncomfortable way. Julian was tired and dylan probably was too. When they finally arrived he brushed his hand over Dylan's affectionately, but not in a way that anyone else would see, and got out of the car. "I'll see you after school." He peaked his head in, then smiled and stepped away.

He stepped off into the school, where he was welcomed with odd looks from most people. The day dragged on, but he had Dylan in the back of his mind. Dylan who had been nice enough to drive him to school. Finally he was in Chemistry. His most disliked class. Something he was terrible with. Science and math combined. He was more of an English student. He did well in his writing classes, but the maths and sciences were beyond him.

It was this very class that he'd asked Connor to help him in. And he'd asked for help only days before. Poor Connor, expecting to help Julian, when he disappears for days. The boy tried to avoid looks from the other male as best he could. He knew he might be questioned. Even though he hardly knew Connor. Of course it was strange having someone you expect to tutor disappear and then come back looking like... Well Julian. When class ended he collected his books quickly, keeping his eyes down on his desk.