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Full Name: Kier Michael Gallagher
Nickname(s): Gal, Shortcake (Only by Theo), Little Monster (Only by Preston)
Age: 17
Blood Type: B+
Species: Human
Race: Caucasian
Ethnicity: Gaelic
Date of birth: December 18, 1993
Birth place: Montgomery Village, MD
Occupation: Student
Hobbies/Pastime: Making charts and graphs, reading (fiction and non), drawing (less often, but regular).
Talents/Skills: Naturally good balance, a wide vocal range. Can replicate accents he's heard enough of.



Sex: Male
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 178lbs
Build: Little muscle to show, softer with healthy levels of fat. Subtly fuller than average hips and bottom with wider shoulders.
Skin: Primarily a warm, medium tone with faint freckling on his face. Parts (see distinguishing features) have albino coloration instead.
Facial Structure: Round face, button-like nose, angular eyebrows.
Hair: Mostly straight, but will turn wavy when wet or not brushed for a few days. Parted from the left, with bangs sweeping towards the right. The front of his hair is red, including all of his bangs and extending about two inches back from the front of his hairline. The rest of his hair is white-blonde, including the lower portion of the sideburn on his right side. Falls down to his shoulderblades.
Eyes: Left is blue-green in color, the right is a pinkish gray. Often when in the light, the right will have more pupil constriction than the left.
Glasses/Contacts: Does not have prescription glasses. Will often use sunglasses when going outside for extended periods. May get opaque colored contacts for occasional use because of his right eye, with the color matching his left eye.
Distinguishing Features: Several places are marked with albino skin. All marks fade slightly at the edges instead of being crisp lines.
-The right side of his face, surrounding the eye socket. Does not go high enough to touch his eyebrow. Does not go in enough to reach his nose. Follows along the cheekbone and to the jaw line about halfway to his chin. Does not reach his ear but does include the sideburn of that side.
-On the back of his left hand, vaguely resembling a diamond in shape. Does not go down enough to reach the wrist. Does go high enough to surround and include the knuckle at the base of his middle finger.
-Most of his skull, everywhere where his hair is blonde, going all the way down his spine. Ends at the end of the tailbone. Flares out to a degree at his lower back and just below his shoulderblades.
-Following roughly along his ribs on the right side, without marking them crisply or exactly. No further up than the pectorals. Includes part of the cartilage, but does not reach the sternum. Does not reach the back, and is not readily seen from behind. A very organic, blob-like shape.
-Covering the heel of his left foot and following the Achilles tendon until around mid-calf.
Left/Right Handed: Right.
Clothing Style: Usually fits the situation, though he likes to keep things simple. He's fond of bright colors, but only when balanced well to not draw too much attention. Quite comfortable in most anything that covers and fits him well, he has a fondness for slacks and button-up shirts. He enjoys wearing a nice vest now and then, for formal or casual outfits. Tends to follow closer to timeless looks than just sticking to the current trends.
Accessories: Wears gloves more often than not when going out, even for short periods. Usually brings a simple, shoulder strap bag with him.
Mannerisms: Has a habit of biting his lip for a variety of reasons. If sitting or resting, he may rub his hands against his thighs when anxious. Prefers to walk with either a wall or someone he trusts at his right side. He turns his whole head or body to face someone often when they speak to him, and when looking at someone, turns his head slightly to see them better, though it tends to make him seem like he's avoiding the direct eye contact instead. Sometimes will give looks that are for show rather than function when someone is on his right side.
Health: Good health, a somewhat high tolerance for pain. Will recover quickly from illnesses, but they usually happen suddenly.
Disabilities: Practically blind in his right eye, relying mostly on his left. Poor depth perception as a result, but has learned to manage fine in most situations. He also has a sensitivity to light, needing to make sure all of his light marks are properly protected at all times, no matter the season, weather, or how long he'll actually spend outside.



Strengths: Remains hopeful in most situations, and both sees and keeps faith in the good people have inside. Usually forgives easily, and is relatively easy to please or cheer up. He can understand different points of view, even if he doesn't agree with them. While sensitive, he maintains a scientific sort of mind, and is able to weigh his emotions against his logic and reasoning when needed.
Flaws: Can be uncertain and indecisive at times, to the point of freezing up entirely. He's developed a compulsion to keep his own belongings organized and out of the way, despite having no issues whatsoever with messes. When under great deals of stress or depressed, he has a tendency to harm himself; this is usually only insignificant things he doesn't even notice for himself, but without relief from the situation, will get worse. Can be too willing to accept abuse in exchange for acceptance.
Goals/Desires: To be happy while making those around him happy, and to find acceptance from others as well as from himself.
Most at ease when: Near the ocean, especially while with someone he trusts.
Greatest Fear: Causing someone he cares about to feel used or pushed away and making them leave him.
Phobias/Insecurities: He is uncomfortable with how he looks, and how others see him, despite the fact that if he were asked, he has nothing he dislikes about his body other than the fact that it is so mixed; his different colors, in and of themselves, he has no issues with. Hates feeling as if he is in the way, and accordingly, he tries to make as little fuss as possible, even keeping his belongings perfectly in place and, for the most part, out of sight for the sake of not bothering whomever he shares his living space with. Extremely uncomfortable with emptiness and silence, and may break his usual neatness and put something out of place or make some sort of noise for the sake of filling it. He can't stand being talked or whispered about, or otherwise getting too much unwanted attention, and tends to imagine the situation is much worse than it actually is.



Sexual Orientation: Panromantic heterosexual
Turn-ons: Getting his partner flustered, being watched in the 'good' way, having a sense of control even when he's not the one taking charge. The entirety of his spine serves as a strong erogenous zone.
Turn-offs: Feeling pressured, especially with things he has little experience with. Unwanted force, or a lack of affection during the act.



Religion: Considers the existence of God to be a lovely possibility.
Western Astrology: Sun - Sagittarius, Rising - Capricorn, Moon - Pisces
Planet: Jupiter
Element: Mutable Fire
Eastern Astrology: Water Rooster



Siblings: Cailyn Boone (Older sister)
Parents: Mackenzie Gallagher (Mother), Alton Boone (Father, estranged)
Grandparents
-Maternal: Cowen and Shannon Gallagher (both estranged)
-Paternal: Unknown
Other relatives
-Maternal: Cole Gallagher (Uncle, deceased)
-Paternal: Unknown
Friends: Theodore "Theo" Allen Edwards III (deceased), Preston Thomas Haggard, Malcolm Fontenille and Dean Fontenille (potentially)
Foes: Isabella Murray, Neville Laban, Clayton Tucker
Love interest(s): Isabella (previous, unrequited), Theo (previous, mutual), Preston (current, mutual)



Personal Motto: It's in the past.
Favorite Quote: "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." ~Marianne Williamson
Best Memory: Going to see the Chingoteague Pony Swim with his family.
Worst Memory: First entering Theo's room again after hearing of his death.
Brief History:

12/18/1993- Born to Mackenzie and Alton, 9:30 am. Held for tests and monitoring.
12/20/1993- Alton leaves.
12/21/1993- Confirmed to be in good health. Birth certificate filled out, given his mother's maiden name.
12/24/1993- Released from hospital. Return home, Alton is gone.
12/25/1993- Mackenzie's friends help her pack their things and move the small family back to Cowen and Shannon's home.
2/1994- Test results return. Mother begins researching; grandparents push for more tests. Fighting starts within the family.
6/1994- Mother and children move to the Eastern Shore.
-insert a billion more things-
[ Click to view art! ]

User Image
Lies




Look what you’ve done now.

You didn’t mean to.

Didn’t mean to? That’s a laugh.

It was just an accident.

Sitting at a familiar desk, in a familiar room, on an otherwise ordinary day, an utterly insignificant and unimpressive act had suddenly sent the two-toned young man’s mind into a dark, chaotic spiral.

An accident? Now that is rich.

Well, it was. Just an accident, nothing more.

Do you honestly believe that?

There’s nothing else to believe.

Oh, is that so?

… It’s not even that bad. You’re fine.

Kier had bitten his finger.
It was an utterly insignificant and undoubtedly unconscious act that had left nothing more than redness and telltale indentations in his skin. There wasn’t even a single drop of blood to show for it.


You’re in pain.

There was little more than a dull throb and a strange but not unpleasant tickle as his flesh slowly righted itself.

That’s wrong.

You wanted it to hurt.

You’re not like that. You don’t do that.

Are you still trying to tell yourself it was an accident?

Stop it.

You’re pathetic.

Shut up!

Oh, so sorry, did you want to go back to the silence?

It’s not-

He was suddenly aware of his own hands. One was stiff, pen in hand, rapidly tapping against the desk with no rhythm whatsoever. There wasn’t enough control for rhythm in the simple, urgent need to make some sort of sound, anything that would fill the gap. The other had found its way back to his mouth.

Who do you think is doing that?

You are.

No. You are.

No, you’re not. You. Don’t. Do. That.

His brows furrowing, he balled his hand into a fist, tight enough for seemingly every one of the small muscles to ache. He bit his lip, his hand trembling there near his face, then brought it down against the desk, the edge of it ramming right into his wrist, and yet, the entire gesture was pitiful. It didn’t even do enough to make the markers strewn across his desk move a single inch.

Don’t you?



That’s right. You should be ashamed. You’re weak.

I-it’s alright- It’s not that bad. It was an accident.

You want to do it again.

You don’t. You’re stronger than that.

Are you?

It took some effort, but he loosened his fist, light, fresh indentations already formed in a line across his palm.

What will Bee think?

He’ll forgive you.

Will he? After how much you already put him through?

He doesn’t mind, he tells you so…

Just like you don’t mind when he hurts your feelings?

He means well. That’s what matters. You know that.

Speaking of which, where is he now?

He looked over his shoulder, as if to look at the door, but his gaze didn’t quite make it. Perhaps because he simply didn’t have the will to turn, or perhaps because he didn’t want to risk seeing him there, waiting. It was ridiculous, thinking that he would, yet the thought was there.

You know where he is. You know it can’t be helped.

Can’t be helped indeed. It’s good for him to get away from you and your bullshit.

Kier looked back down to his desk, at the papers he’d been working on.

What makes you think you should be forgiven? What have you done to earn it?

Well-

You don’t have an answer.

You just need a chance to think. You know it’s there.

You’re a liar.

You aren’t. You never have been.

The click of the door sounded somewhere behind him.

Bee-

Why stop now? You can hide it from him.

He flexed his fingers, the tapping of his pen slowing significantly.

This isn’t right-

He never has to know. You won’t need to be forgiven if he doesn’t know.

Light, familiar footsteps, coming closer. Kier set the tip of his pen to his paper, as if he’d been writing. His other hand fell into his lap.

You could do it again. As much as you want. He doesn’t have to know.

Stop! You don’t need this, you don’t want this-

Then stop biting your lip.

The sound of things being set down, a flicker of movement just out of the corner of his eyes, and the feeling of being watched all weighed heavily against him. He did just as his own thoughts had said, hoping that the other young man hadn’t caught the reoccurring habit. The last thing he wanted right now was to be scolded again.

Admit it. Admit it, and you can stop feeling bad about it.

Don’t…

“Kier…?” His companion’s familiar voice, gentle, unsure. It brought the faintest of sad smiles to his lips.

He doesn’t need more worries. And you need whatever release you can get.

He looked up and over to the man now right beside him, only just noticing the hand on his own shoulder.

Bee… Sorry-

“Welcome back, Preston… How was class-?”

… It wasn’t an accident.
Voices




What are you hiding from?

You’re not hiding.

What do you call this then?

You just needed some space.

Space from what? You were already alone.

There’s nothing wrong with needing space.

The sound of water started suddenly, comforting yet somehow intimidating all the same. Kier didn’t need to test the water. It may have been a while since he’d done it for himself, but he still remembered just how much to turn each knob to get that perfect setting. To make things easier, it only ever needed one of the two.

Bee wouldn’t want you in here.

You’re not doing anything wrong.

You will. Why else would you lock the door?

You always used to lock the door.

That was then. Things have changed.

Things are going back to normal.

Things will never be normal for you. They never were.

What would you know about it? You weren’t always here.

Steam was already rising into the room as Kier stripped off the few articles of clothing he had. He set them, the single shirt and underwear that weren’t his own, in the basin of the sink. Dull, lidded eyes remained set in place, looking down at them.

You know better than that. Things are never going back.

Slowly, he looked up to the mirror. A towel covered it, leaving only the very corners to hint at what it did, and could hold. He didn’t remember it not being there any of the times he’d looked in the last few days. Yet, he was sure it had moved. It wasn’t quite the same, though he couldn’t remember how it had been before. He was certain it had been used, even if it looked nearly untouched as it was now.

You can never go back.

You won’t be here forever. Things will, and you won’t be here anymore.

Look around.

His brows twitched together as he did just that, his gaze falling once more as he looked across the counter of the sink. The small space had been filled with not only his roommate’s things, but his own recently moved ones as well, and for the moment, a few ever familiar medical supplies joined them.

Does this look the same to you? Does it feel good, finally taking up so. Much. Room?

You’re wasting time.

Distractions don’t work when you’re the one that gave yourself space, Kier.

Looking down at his own body, the bare boy exhaled heavily as his eyes went without hesitation to the bandage on his hip. He raised a hand to it, but flinched even before he felt the material covering the wound he knew was there. His attention returned to the scattered objects.

Why is it that you have to lie?

You don’t lie.

Oh, but you do, constantly.

One at a time, he scanned them all, his focus torn between them and himself.

You lie to others pretending to be something you’re not.

First was the edge of the counter itself. So obvious, so easy, and only a bruise would come of it. Yet, it didn’t feel right.

You lie to your family. You don’t let them know the truth.

Perhaps the razor. It wouldn’t matter which of them it belonged to, it would get the job done, and he was certain he could take it apart for better effect if he tried.

You lie to Bee too, don’t you? He doesn’t know yet, does he? What is it that you tell him?

Pills. There were still more than enough. It might not even hurt.

Is there anyone you don’t lie to?

He took hold of the one bottle he’d brought in with him, his hands trembling as he uncapped it.

You’re weak. You even lie to yourself.

He shut his eyes and exhaled slowly, gently shaking the bottle’s contents into his palm.

You’re a liar. A pathetic liar, and a freak to boot. Why are you still trying?

It’s all I can do.

He swallowed but a single pill, putting the rest aside and taking up the waterproof patches instead.

You know that’s a lie. You’re still thinking about it, even now.

You’re not-

I am.

One at a time, he covered his bandages, his hands slow and shaking.

You’ve changed.

You haven’t, you’re just the same as you always were.

You’ve changed, and you’re never going back.

You’re still just the same, somewhere in there. You just have to find it.

Face it. You’re not the same, and you’re never going to be.

Tossing away the trash, he looked up to the mirror once more. The room was warmer, the visible portions of the glass already fogged with the consuming steam, the water pounding somewhere behind him. He pulled the towel away.

I’m not.

He watched his own tired reflection, a frown settled into his features without him ever realizing it. The corners of his lips twitched.

Neither is he.

Turning away from himself, he stepped into the shower.
Comfort

Warning: violence ahead.


The room was cleaned from top to bottom. He’d finished all of his own school work, as well as what his older companion couldn’t be bothered to do. Freshly stuffed cigarettes were stowed away in worn, reused packs, packs which were then thrown into matching cartons, all giving the illusion that his hard work amounted to little more than a trip to the store. Sitting on the floor of a room that wasn’t his, back against the bed he wasn’t allowed to use, Kier’s gaze was set on the far wall as he tried to relax in the unseasonal heat the evening held. He’d long since changed out of his uniform and into something much cooler, but even with hours having passed since the sun went down, it still wasn’t quite enough. He sighed softly, looking down beside himself as he picked up one of the extra cigarettes he’d made for himself, holding it just so and tapping the butt of it down against the side of his hand a few times. Slipping it gently between his lips, he fished out a set of matches, removing one and managing to start a small flame on his second attempt. His brows furrowed lightly as he lit the stick with care, letting out a heavy breath filled with thick smoke as he shook out the match. As he took his first real drag from the thing, a faint smile reached his lips. The soft ticking of a clock was the only thing that broke the silence of the room. Despite the heat, the boy reveled in the warmth the smoke brought to his chest, a long moment passing before he finally lowered the lit stick and exhaled slowly and steadily, releasing the by now nearly invisible cloud from his body. Tilting his head back to look to the ceiling, he straightened and spread his legs, the cool floor offering a vague comfort against the bare skin exposed by his shorts. He knew that he had an exam in the morning. He was aware of how deathly late it was. All the same, he was set on having this moment for himself, fully aware that the peace of it all could come falling down at any given moment.

Though he wasn’t certain about how much time had passed when he first heard the muffled sound of familiar voices coming nearer, he only needed to glance at how much smaller the stick he held had gotten to figure it out. As he took one last drag from it, he listened to the men as they neared the door, if only for the sake of judging just what sort of state his ‘mentor’ would be in after the evening’s fun.

“— wasn’t even a good bender. Where’d you find that prossy? Bleedin’ diddle ‘s all she was.”

“Oi, don’t blame me. You’re the one that couldn’t damn well finish the job, mate.” There was the sudden, telling sound of flesh hitting hard against flesh, just loud enough to make Kier flinch from it. When he again heard the voice he knew to be Nev’s, it was little more than a low growl. He couldn’t make out what the man said, but when his friend spoke once more, the pain in his voice was obvious. “Bugger it, see if I’ll be fagged to set us up again.” The sound of footsteps resumed, heading away from the door this time, and just a short moment later, the door clicked open.

Kier was already getting back up onto his feet, offering not so much as a greeting to the young man, who in turn didn’t even look at the boy as he shut and locked the door. He wasn’t about to try and start any sort of conversation. It wasn’t his place to do so. After all, how was he to know just how much of his presence Neville would be able to stand?

“Oi, minger.”

He was just picking up the scarce belongings on the floor when the older spoke. He looked up; Nev was already pulling off his clothes to change, every movement clumsy from his lingering inebriation. “Yes?”

“Place looks like s**t. You finish that presentation at least?”

“Of course I did.” The man’s eyes narrowed, making Kier look away as he added quickly, “There’s an extra copy on the flash drive. Same with all of the notes and references.”

A grunt of a reply made the boy relax, his attention turning to putting away the few things that were out without a second thought. That is, until he felt the other drawing near just behind him. He tensed, hesitating before he turned to look up at Nev. The man had a sneer on his face, the expression familiar to Kier, and one that made him all the more ill at ease. “The hell’re you wearin’?”

He looked down at himself; a simple tee-shirt and shorts, both in rather neutral colors, was all that greeted him, save for his usual dark gloves. “It was hot,” he replied, looking back up. He didn’t have enough time to react before the man’s hand made contact with his cheek, a surprised yelp escaping him before he could bite it back.

“I wasn’t asking for excuses, was I?”

Gingerly touching his fingers to his own face, Kier shook his head just slightly, looking back up at the other, doing his best to not let any more signs of pain show than already had. “N-no… I’m sorry, Nev.”

“I don’t very bloody well want to hear it, minger. You look like some gagging tart,” he bit, scowling as he wiped his hand off on his pants. “It’s disgusting.”

“I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry, I’ll change, it’s no big deal-“ Kier bit his tongue, regretting his words just a second before the other young man grabbed him by the front of his shirt, yanking him closer and up onto the balls of his feet.

“Do. Not. Tell me if it’s a big ******** deal, you grotty little whore.”

His eyes going wide, Kier shook his head quickly, his hands grabbing onto Neville’s wrist. “I-I’m not- I wasn’t- Please, let me go-“

“******** liar ‘s all you are,” he scoffed, tossing the smaller boy away. Kier stumbled back, only managing to stabilize himself when he bumped into the spare bed. His hand moving to rub his collar instead, he looked over his shoulder at the bed, only to earn a harsh laugh from the other, successfully catching his attention again. “Can’t help yourself, can you?”

“W-what-? I didn’t-“

“I don’t know why the bloody hell I put up with you. All you do is make me sick.” Visibly wincing from the words, the boy swallowed back a whimper of a sound, shaking his head slightly in some vague denial. It made Neville roll his eyes. “No? We both know how disgusting you are. How can you say no?”

The boy just shook his head again, squeezing his eyes shut to try and keep back his welling tears. He managed to look up at the man again, making an effort to meet his eyes. “I’m not a liar.”

Nev arched a brow slowly, then suddenly laughed, the hard, cold sound startling Kier, and making the boy try to step back, only to be stopped by the bed already pressed against the backs of his legs. “That’s the only thing you have to say for yourself? You’re even more ********’ pathetic than I thought. Just like the rest of your pretty little family, aye?”

Kier narrowed his eyes, tearing his gaze away from the bed once more and up to the larger boy. “Don’t.”

“Are you,” the man started, already crossing the small space between them, “ordering me around, minger?” The younger instinctually opened his mouth to reply, only to snap it shut again, offering neither disagreement nor confirmation as he stared up at the other. Nev only let the stubborn silence last a moment before grabbing Kier by a chunk of his hair, yanking his head back to make sure the boy looked at him. Though a pained sound escaped him, he managed to comply. “That. Is not how this works.” As quickly as it had happened, the man released him again, though he kept just as close, making it clear with only his expression that he wasn’t about to let the boy get away either. “Would you rather I treated you like I would the rest of those bints you came from?” When Kier still didn’t answer, Neville let out a sound that was far too close to a growl, grabbing onto an already bruised arm and forcing him to turn around.

“What the hell are you doing-?” Kier questioned, pulling his arm loose of the other’s grasp. Before he could turn back around, however, the larger boy struck him firmly in the back of his head, earning a hiss of pain and a muttered string of mild curses.

“I’m giving you what you ******** asked for,” he bit, glaring down at the boy as he fumbled to remove his belt. Though he couldn’t see what Nev was doing, the sound told him enough. He stilled, a sudden fear settling in his chest. It made the man smirk. “That’s more like it.” As soon as his belt was off, he slipped it around the boy’s neck in an instant, giving it a tug when the smaller moved to tear it off. “Don’t even think about it, minger.”

Kier managed a small nod, shutting his eyes tightly as his hands fell heavily to his sides. “P-please stop, Nev- I’ll do better, you don’t have to-“

When he heard that cold laugh again, it was much closer to his ear, the man leaning forward to slip his arm around him, finding and fumbling to undo the button and zipper of the boy’s shorts. “That won’t quite cut it this time.” Kier managed to stifle another noise by biting hard on his lip, his hands balling into fists just as the man succeeded in his goal, no sooner tugging down the article, along with his underwear, without any resemblance of care.

“Anything but this, please, Nev-“ The pressure against his throat tightened, making his shoulders begin to shake. A sudden shove just between his shoulder blades pushed him forward, and he only barely managed to catch himself with his hands against the mattress. He didn’t need to see in order to hear the sound of the man fumbling with his own pants, or to feel the steady pressure that told him he wasn’t about to let go, even to make the task easier. He bowed his head, trying to plead further, but only managing to make his crying known to the other.

“If you know what’s good for you, Kier —“ The unfamiliar sound of his name on the other’s tongue made him bite his lip again, just as hard as before, opening his eyes just enough to stare down at the bed beneath him. “— you’ll shut the bloody hell up right now.” The younger nodded just slightly, trying and failing at keeping his sobbing as quiet as he could. The man looked down at him with disgust, sneering before he spat on his exposed skin. Kier closed his eyes again and clenched his jaw just in time for the first hard pain to rip through him.



An hour passed. Not that Kier could keep track. He only knew from the complaints that the older boy was making. He slowly pushed himself up, every inch of his body sore and tired, and tried to understand just what the other was saying. He managed to stand, pain protesting against it with every move he made.

“Disgusting little t**t,” he heard from somewhere behind him. “Don’t get any blood on the floor.” Giving the best nod he could manage, which was still little more than a slight bob, he turned slightly away from the bed, carefully bending to pull his shorts back up with trembling hands. “And don’t even think about getting a shower tonight.” The soft echo of the man’s voice was enough for the boy to know he was in the bathroom. He swallowed, only for the ache in his neck to remind him why that was anything but a good idea. “Oi! Did you hear me, minger?”

Still, he didn’t have the will to respond, even knowing how such disobedience would end. He managed to crawl into the bed he’d been forced to not so long ago, facing the wall as he curled up there, trying to find any comfort he could in it. There was nothing. Only the distant sound of the man’s voice, the sticky feel of sweat that wasn’t his alone, and the thick pain he would have given anything to have disappear. Even silence would have been a welcome friend. The best that he could manage was slipping into exhausted sleep.
Well, Actually

By: xNotDeadYetx




It wasn’t normally an event the couple would go to, largely due to the presence of so many of Preston’s family, but they had decided it wouldn’t kill them to attempt to keep some sort of connection with the family. So, there they were, dressed in suits so black they were almost hard to look at. Preston smoothed out his jacket again, getting rid of kinks and wrinkles only he could see. Kier snorted and rolled his eyes, putting a hand on the man’s wrist. Preston’s hands stilled and he looked to Kier appreciatively before looking around the overcrowded room. The curly haired man sighed and turned his attention back to Kier, “Can you remind me again why we’re here?”

Smiling he patted Preston’s hand lightly, “Because, it’s fun to dress up and you think I’m even sexier in a suit than I am in jeans.”

“Hm. That is true,” he conceded happily, folding his hands neatly into his pockets, “Come on, let’s find a drink.”

Nodding he stuck one of his arms through the crook of Preston’s keeping pace with him as they moved their way through the crowd. Preston offered nods and polite smiles to people, trying not to actually stop and talk with them. More than once the pair caught a look or two that wasn’t fully approving of their actions, and Preston was sure that he had heard a whisper or two. They were almost to the bar when there was a rather loud one that he hoped Kier hadn’t heard. “How disrespectful can you be? I can’t believe Preston’s stooped so low, look at that man’s hair positively uncouth and…What’s the word they use Marcie dear? Punk? Yes. Absolutely.”

Though Preston attempted to keep walking, Kier stopped, slipping his arm from the others smoothly. “I’m sorry, would you remind repeating that?” He had turned to confront the woman who had been speaking, a genuinely curious look on his face.

Though taken back the woman cleared her throat and arched a brow, “I was just saying that it is disrespectful to wear such a hairstyle at an event like this.”

Preston moved back over to Kier’s side and opened his mouth to defend the man, Kier flopped his hand slightly, waving his defender off. “Miss. I hate to ruin your perception of the world and how you instantly judge people on looks, but I didn’t dye my hair this way for kicks and giggles. I’ve got Tetragametic chimerism. This is a condition I was born with, usually seen in the case of hermaphrodites or people who just have two different sets of DNA, those who have it hardly realize they do. It’s a condition that happens very early in development, during the blastocyst phase, if we’re being specific. And, in case you’re too far behind in mathematical terms, tetra means four. Combined I’m made of two ova,” he looked to the woman’s younger companion, “That’s eggs,” he said slowly raising his eyebrow as if that man were particularly dumb. “And two sperm. Truly, a much more fascinating reason than me just dying my hair for the fun of it, yeah? And while we’re on the topic,” he pointed to the enlightened side of his face, “the dark skin and red hair don’t always go together, so, I’m just one big genetic jackpot.”

Preston snorted at the expression of the two people, both looking like they hadn’t quite followed what he’d said, and yet knew they had been taken to school. He rested his hand on Kier’s elbow. He turned to Preston and grinned, pleased with their expressions, and again, slipped his arm through Preston’s. The dark haired boy laughed as they turned away, “I need to take you out more often.”

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