A Little Therapy

The first time Jack Barakat had any real interaction with Hell’s personal bodyguards, was completely by accident and mostly his fault. Being a boy whom was naturally left footed and seemed absolutely capable of tripping over thin air, he had been nose-deep into his timetable and wholly unaware of his surroundings; before he face-planted the chest of a tall, ebony haired and baby-faced boy with a glint of mischief in his sea-sparkling eyes. For most people, at this point they would’ve found themselves gracing the floor with the presence of their faces, but not the fresh meat, not with eyes and a body like that.

Instead, what he got was an award-winning smile that seemed to catch the attention of those around them, not everyone, after all not everyone was that interested in the activities of the “brothers,” But a fair few of the pretty girls who knew that was what they were and the boys that wished for companionship with either of the two, turned to look in jealousy as both Kellin and Alex took an arm each and led the confused boy down the hallway.

“I’m Kellin,” the first boy spoke, his voice soft and carefree, laced with an edge of dangerous poison that seemed to lull the coffee eyed boy into a trance of some sort. The crescendo of subterranean earthly olive and cavernous crystal cerulean lit up in trouble and lust the moment the dancing irises met his; it sent shockwaves down his spine and unnerved the unruly haired boy to a point that he was questioning why his heart was beating so erratically.

“And I’m Alex,” That’s when he remembered the other boy in the room, voice deeper and inked with maturity that the other fresh-faced lad didn’t have. Within the melody of honey caramel and smooth chocolate that his eyes were, Jack saw something further than the boundaries of mischief and mayhem; he saw unwavering fear and concealed sadness that somehow broke when this strange boy thought no-one appeared to be looking. No lies were going to be told to him, as he decided that the look in his eyes enticed him more than the lust he had seen flickering at the edge of Kellin’s.

“J-Jack,” The stammering of his voice reminded him of how far down he was being dragged, stood in the presence of the boys that many people looked up to and adored, one wrong move could jeopardize him. Silence. The brown haired boy decided many months ago that silence was his best policy, it is what his parents had taught him and it was what he aimed for in school.

“We know,” The sync sent shivers down his spine; they were literally like psychic siblings, except they weren’t blood related and any fluids they shared certainly wasn’t biological (or anything Jack wanted to know about). They pulled him hands-first into an empty room, giving time for Jack too stare at the floor and stop his heart pounding out of his chest.

The second his legs gave out, he found himself perched delicately at the edge of a table, trying desperately to remember what speech was. Ignoring the trembling of his fingertips against the smooth surface of the ratty school desks, he was only focused on breathing, not the fact he was alone in a room with two of the boys he had heard only bad things about.

“Relax,” It was Alex that spoke first, a little tattoo poking out from his jacket sleeves and slightly underneath his choppy, mussed, caramel hair. Without thinking, Jack felt his eyes hone in on those two specific spots before saying the stupidest thing he could’ve to the school’s residential bad boys.

“I thought you were too young to have tattoos,” It was there he realised that no-one should ever allow him to speak, and also that he felt he should arrest himself to save the embarrassment of being put into hospital by the end of the year. Surprisingly, all that happened was an eruption of laughter that, yes made his cheeks burn the colour of fire, but also probably got him out of any trouble.

“My uncle is a tattooist, so we got them done, I only got this,” He pointed to his hand, “And this,” He pulled his hair back from where it covered the peak of the greyish-green art on the base of his neck. “But this tyke,” He gestured to Kellin who shrugged off his battered leather jacket on cue “Just couldn’t stop,”

Now, the ebony haired boy couldn’t decide if he was more entranced by the beautiful designs that engulfed this boy’s arm (tattoos were always a fascination, but it was understood with his parents that he could never have any), or the genuine muscle that Kellin seemed to pack. This was why he didn’t interact with humans, it gave him strange thoughts and feelings he couldn’t control. He understood love was an emotion he had never felt, but this tingling sensation whenever his eyes travelled from Alex to Kellin was something he didn’t like. Was it called lust?

“They’re really good,” He finally whispered, surprising himself when he realised that the whole conversation with the two he had neither stumbled nor stuttered. “Can I,” he reached out his fingertips towards the boy, completely forgetting the warnings his friends had told him as he was transfixed by something he had never seen so up close-neither on such delicate skin.

“Go ahead,” The coal haired boy pushed his fringe from his beckoning eyes and held out his arm to let Jack brush his fingertips over it. He watched with complete fascination as the other boy studied them with clear captivation, completely enthralled with the designs as he brushed his fingers gently as if expecting them to peel off.

It was there that the other boy in the room spoke up “Have you never seen a tattoo before or something Jack?” It came out joking, but still wary as the innocent eyed boy looked up with clear guilt written all over his face. “You’re fucking shitting me, no way dude!” immediately panicking at the raised tone, he scrambled back and whimpered, expecting the loud voice to be just like it was at home, instead all he got was confusion. “Dude…are you ok?”

Shaking his ruffled hair, Jack turned on his heel and ran, slamming the door behind him. It wasn’t until he finally reached his next lesson (Stuttering, stumbling, reiterating apologies as he’d never been late before and had no idea what to say) that he realised he never even found out what it was that the troublesome two had wanted to say to him.

Notes

Just to clarify, Jack isn't just freaked out by all this shit. He was literally raised by his parents who are very strict people, not specifically Christian's, but very strict people who are concerned by image. And as a sneak peak a chapter will be named after "A Trophy Father's Trophy Son," which if you know anything about that song is a big insight into Jack's home life. However his father hasn't left.

Also, if you feel like I'm overplaying, I'm not. Jack has literally never had a friend before, he's been extremely sheltered his whole life, has probably never breathed near a tattoo or piercing, he doesn't know how to talk to people properly (which you probably saw with his interaction with Rian).

Just a little backing story for you there -Ceej