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Shards of glass cut into Darren's cheek, blood beading quickly and trickling down to Shards of glass cut into Darren's cheek, blood beading quickly and trickling down to his neck.

The destroyed ashtray lay in a thousand little pieces on the floor, smashed from the force that Gavin had thrown it with. Luckily, it had missed its target- Darren- by only a few inches, slamming into the wall behind the blond instead. Sapphire eyes wide and lit up with fear, Darren tightened his shaking hands into fists before he stormed across the wrecked living room to Gavin.

The sofa was soaked with spilt beer; the whole problem behind this latest violent episode in the series of Darren and Gavin’s screwed up little life together. Darren gagged on the foul stench of the lager hanging in the air as he absentmindedly stepped over an upturned table, trainer-clad foot catching on the broken wooden leg of the wretched thing.

Gavin was livid. His face was burning almost as red as fire, his blonde hair was billowing out behind him like flames to represent his anger. Those memorable Blue eyes were hard as stone and were trained relentlessly on Darren. Although Darren himself was blind with anger, it was impossible not to notice the unshed tears glimmering in the dirty blonde's eyes as Darren approached him.

Still, those tiny little saltwater droplets- released or not- could do nothing to douse the blazing rage that the brunette harboured. His arm drew back, his teeth grinding together uncomfortably as he slammed his fist into Gavin’s face.

The force of the punch reverberated through the shorter male’s body but it went unnoticed as he continued to hurl punches at the object of his frustrations. Blood pouring from the tiny little wounds in his face and forehead, Darren looked a mess. Why was it, how was it that Gavin could do this to him?
How could the older man get Darren so angry, so hurt and broken with just a few words, a few actions?

Feeling each rivulet of anger pour into every hit, Darren moved his fists at bullet-speed, pounding Gavin’s chest, arms and face with as many punches as he could manage. All of a sudden, his strength drained away and he sniffed sadly, raising disappointed and tired blue eyes to Gavin's distressed blues.

“******** you.” He whimpered, ignoring how distraught Gavin seemed to become with those words.

When Gavin’s large hands wrapped around Darren’s bony wrists and weakly pushed him away before he hurried out of the messy room, the door slamming closed with a loud, mocking bang behind him, the sick sense of satisfaction washed over the Brunette.

Gavin had stopped throwing hits first.

Darren had hit harder.

Darren had won.

He collapsed where he stood.

“I don’t understand why you would do it, Darren!”
“Why the ******** do you care why?” Darren snarled, pushing his face close to Gavin’s and giving the blonde a rough shove backwards.

Ignoring the question for now, Gavin regained his footing and returned the favour, sending the shorter man slamming into a wall.

“a*****e! Because I care about you!” Each word was accentuated by the Blonde’s finger stabbing sharply into Darren's chest.

“Oh yeah? Sure got a funny way of showing it!” hissed Darren, flecks of spit meeting Gavin’s cheeks.

“You ******** up more than I do! That’s all you are- just a little, selfish ********!”

Darren threw the first hit, smashing his clenched fist into Gavin’s high and chiselled cheekbone.

It wasn’t like the last time, when they were both drunk- Gavin more than Darren- when the alcohol helped to numb some of the pain. Not the physical pain, but the pain of knowing they were hurting each other but each being in too much agony to care.
Now, they were fighting over a girl. It was just one night- one time- it didn’t mean anything. She was just there when Darren was hurting inside. He didn’t love her. If it bothered Gavin so much, then maybe he should have been there for Darren in the first place instead of sitting at home drowning his sorrows in drink. It was his fault for being that way! Darren didn’t want to apologise, even if he was in the wrong. They never did apologise to one another. It was just how things were between them- it was just how bad things had gotten.

“I wish I never met you!” Gavin growled as he back-handed his boyfriend across the face.

Darren’s heart cracked and threatened to split into two.

“I wish you never even existed!” He returned, face pulsing with pain.

His internal hurt was reflected on the other’s face, but neither of them succeeded in realising that fact.
Their shouts were increasing in volume, filling the bedroom with angry yells and screams as they hurtled insults at each other to accompany the blows they were dealing out. Lungs burning, knuckles bruised and aching and hearts breaking, they stared each other down, eyes sharp with fury.

The sour, metallic tang of blood filled up Darren’s mouth as his straight white teeth took the brute of a harsh hit. Face scrunched up in disgust, he spat the blood out onto the floor. Digging his fingernails into the palms of his hand, he took a few bold steps forward before reaching around Gavin’s head and tangling his fingers in the mussed up blonde locks of Gavin's hair.

In an action that was in no way gentle, he pressed his lips against Gavin’s, his aching teeth clinking against Gavin’s with the pure force of it. A few seconds later, he felt Gavin slowly start to respond, the unmistakable taste of alcohol blending with that of blood as their tongues slid against each other. Heart thumping painfully and twisted in on itself in his chest, Darren pulled away. He hadn’t realised that he had started crying until the hot, angry tears slid down his bruising cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered against the Blonde's lips before turning and leaving.

He missed the murmured, heartfelt ‘Me too’.

Gavin was curled up on the couch clutching an empty glass bottle to his chest when Darren came back home. Tears dried on his cheeks and blood on his chin, he was still in a sorry state. He had spent the past three hours sitting on an empty park bench in an abandoned park, wallowing in his own misery.
Nothing was right anymore. Things with Gavin had become too much to bare.

Of course, the Blonde wasn’t entirely in the wrong. Darren was just as much to blame. They were poor- they could barely afford to keep their apartment anymore. Gavin’s parents were dead and Darren's had kicked him out once they found out he was gay. Work was hard- he was working too much for too long and not enough pay.Gavin had lost his job six months ago because of drinking and since then, he’d only gotten worse.
They hit each other. It was nothing but a contest, but it still hurt. It was serious, yes. They made each other bruise, bleed and break. Sometimes, Darren’s friends told him to leave ‘that a*****e’, that ‘worthless jerk’, but darren just couldn’t. Couldn’t do that to someone he still loved and who he hurt just as much as he was hurt in return.

Silently padding over to the couch, Darren circled it with a blank expression on his face. Gavin was in a total drunken daze, painted in the flickering light of the cracked TV screen. His eyes were at half mast, lips parted- the lower one split and swollen- but they still tugged up into a thin shadow of a smile that didn’t quite reach his unfocused sapphire eyes when they fell upon Darren.

“Hey, Gorgeous.” The lanky man’s words came out as a slur but the affection in them was still audible.

Scowling at the nickname, Darren sent Gavin a dirty look which only intensified when the brown glass bottle fell to the carpet with a dull thud. With unsteady and heavy limbs, Gavin struggled to switch into a sitting position. Once he was settled, he reached for Darren's hand but missed because of his jumpy and broken vision. A frown marred the handsome man’s features, his brow wrinkling and lower, bloody lip sticking out in a childish pout. Trying again, he caught a hold of the younger man and gave a sharp tug, bringing Darren tumbling forward until he stood between Gavin's parted legs.

Suddenly, the confused and immature expression was gone, replaced with a loving smile. Tenderly, Gavin’s fingertips brushed along Darren's cheekbone- the side where splinters of glass had left little dents in his skin. They ghosted over new bruises, over a deep scratch made by a sharp fingernail that ran along the Brunette’s jaw, and gently came to rest on his lips.

“I don’t tell you how beautiful you are often enough.” Gavin whispered, face falling sullen and ashamed. His short, dark blonde eyebrows shot up with his sincerity as he looked his partner straight in the eye. “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re drunk.”Darren replied, sighing in exasperation.

The frown made its way back onto Gavin's face.

“Maybe I am, but not much.” Slowly, the frown morphed into a grimace. “Why should that change how beautiful you are to me?”

Darren shrugged. Ocean-blue eyes downcast and avoiding the Blonde's, he pulled him to his feet and started to lead him to the bedroom.

“Because you don’t think clearly when you’re drunk, Gavin,” Darren bit out, squeezing his eyes shut in the pain of an oncoming tension headache. “And you’re always drunk.”

Hurt washed over Gavin’s face as he was firmly pushed back onto the double bed, the blue sheets of which were tangled and bunched up messily.

Gavin’s back hit the mattress with an almost symbolic thud. His uneven, shallow breathing – caused by his alcohol-plagued veins- eventually eased into something deeper as sleep washed over him. Movements robotic and stiff, Darren tugged Gavin’s baggy and ripped jeans from his legs, before throwing the thin duvet over his prone form.

He paused as he reached the doorway, nails digging deeply into the chipped paint as he fought down the desire to turn back around and place a goodnight kiss on his partner’s slightly-parted pink lips.

Shaking his head, he closed the door quietly. He wasn’t going to sleep in the same bed as Gavin. Not tonight. Maybe he wouldn’t tomorrow night or the night after that. Maybe they would never share the same bed again.

Dragging his shoeless feet across the faded teal carpet, stained with spilt alcohol and blackened in a few spots by the burn of cigarettes, Darren made his way over to the couch.
He fell forwards onto his front, his swollen cheekbone meeting the foul-smelling cushion, sending a dull ache through his face.


To be continued.......maybe?