by neko

It's a kind of ecstasy, Jonathan thinks, taking such pleasure in the little things. His bed is soft and clean and warm, unfamiliar but inviting. He feels full, his heart still burning with the warmth of nineteen candles.

He is a man today.

The door creaks open and he smiles, thinking that his grandmother has come to tuck him in. She seems unable to sleep without knowing that everyone under her roof is comfortable.

He is surprised, then, when the mattress dips beside him and a hand settles on his naked hip through the sheet. He opens his eyes and makes out his half-brother's face through the dark and the fog of alcohol breath. Before he can question this visit, lips settle on his. He bites down in panic.

It is a mistake.

His dulled senses scream at him to move, cry out, do anything to stop this, but he can only manage a confused whine before he is roughly pushed to his stomach. When he opens his mouth to speak again, he finds himself pressed suffocatingly into the pillow, a warning. He subsides for a moment until he feels fingers at the small of his back, stroking lower, then struggles weakly again.

It is sudden and violent and only the mouthful of cotton he receives keeps him from screaming. He can't think, can't breathe, can't respond to this violation. It seems an eternity of panting and thrusting, unnaturally quiet, before teeth close on his right shoulder and the hands on his hips tighten, nails tearing skin. He feels a new warmth inside. The weight behind him presses him into the bed, heavy with sleep.

It takes him a moment to realize it is over. His mind has shut down and he works on autopilot to to free himself from his unconscious assailant. He sits on the corner of the bed, knees hugged to his chest, staring at nothing as he tries to understand what has happened. He comes to only one conclusion: he cannot stay here.

He is already packed for this birthday visit, so he has only to dress and pick up his bag before slipping out into the hall, bypassing the bathroom and the chance to clean himself for fear of waking anyone. He puts on his sandals and steps out onto the porch. He can walk to the bus station and has enough money to buy a ticket to Toronto. After that, he doesn't care what might happen. He feels drawn there and isn't too worried about himself.

After all, he is a man today.