Little Boy Blue
“I can still recall the sting of all the tears when he was gone
I swear I'll never learn, why any boy should die so young.
There are times I think I see him peering out of the dark
I think he's right behind me now, and he's gaining ground.”
- Objects In The Rear View Mirror, MEAT LOAF
Little Boy Blue and the Man in the Moon
. 1 .
“What the fuck is with the hair?”
The slap caught him up along the back of his head, hailing in Russel's return from maneuvers on the East Coast. Noah caught himself before his forehead smacked the lower half of the cupboard in front of him. His face instantly pinched tight and his deep blue eyes hardened.
But he said nothing as he turned and faced his older brother with a steely stare. “Nice to see you too.” He muttered low.
Russel chuckled but it wasn't the pleasant chuckle of a guy just fucking with his kid brother, who underneath it all really liked him. Russ was a dick through and through.
He flicked his fingers at Noah's bright blue tinted hair. “So what the fuck?” He snorted. “Going all out now?”
Noah jerked his head away, his brow pinching tighter. He really just wanted to tell the guy to fuck off, but whatever Russ was or wasn't – he was a soldier. He fought for the country, even if he hadn't seen actual combat yet. Noah had to respect him for that, if for nothing else. Though even that respect came at the price of having to endure his brother's ridicule, and at times torture.
Leaning against the counter, Russ crossed his arms over his thick chest. Noah glanced at him and wondered how they could even be related. Russ was everything Noah wasn't; thick muscled, powerful demeanor, could frighten a rabid dog with his pissed off stare. On the flip side, Noah's extremely lean muscled body often came off as looking scrawny, though he wasn't. Of course, his tight shirts and even tighter pants did nothing to help create an illusion of a thicker body.
Russ was gazing at him with brittle eyes. He ran his hand over the top of his shaved head and when he shifted suddenly, the metal dog tags around his neck clanked lightly.
“So what do you think mom and dad would've thought of this...new look?”
Noah finished with the sandwich he'd been working on when Russel had entered the kitchen. “Doesn't matter anymore.” He spoke low, his voice straining at Russ' mention of their parents. It hadn't been that long since they'd lost them. Barely a year. “They're not here.”
Another slap caught him in the back of the head. This one harder than before, knocking Noah forward and , this time, smacking his forehead into the cupboard. He jerked back, rubbing his brow, eyes burning. “What the fuck, Russ?!”
“Show some fucking respect!” Russ snapped, his finger jabbed in Noah's face.
“I wasn't being disrespectful!.” Noah cried. “I was just stating a fact. They're not here!”
Russ' copper eyes sizzled with resentment. “Yeah...and who's fault is that?”
Tears burning, Noah stepped back away from the older guy. “Fuck you, Russ.” He turned quick then stopped short so suddenly he almost stumbled, nearly colliding with a guy he neither knew nor had been aware was there at all.
Noah gave him a quick once over, taking in his combat boots, camo pants, army green t-shirt, dog tags and short cropped hair. Clearly one of Russ' army buddies. The guy stared back at him from a pair of pale blue eyes – and he saw the same contempt as was present in Russ' stare.
“This the kid brother you told me about?” The guy smirked and Noah wanted to slap it off his face. He knew what Russ thought of him, what he surely told his friends.
Russ chuffed. “Yeah. Cute, huh? All fagged out.”
Noah shot his brother a cold look, but clamped his jaw and refused to take the bait. Russ was just trying to piss him off. He found it amusing when Noah tried to defend himself, tried to stand up for who he was. What he was.
The guy reached out suddenly and ruffled his fingers through Noah's hair. “Little boy blue.” He smirked then laughed.
Russ chuckled and nodded. “Gonna have all the little queers chasing after him.”
Noak jerked away and combed his fingers through his hair, glaring at the two men.
“But that's what you want, isn't it?” Russ' eyes hardened with contempt. “Can't fucking believe my own brother is a little fucking faggot.” His eyes narrowed and he stepped forward suddenly, grabbing Noah by the jaw, holding his face in a hard grip. “Are you fucking wearing makeup?”
“Let me go!” Noah's words distorted around Russ' tight hold on his face and he grabbed the guy's wrists, trying to pry him loose. Tears burned his eyes, shimmering and threatening to flow.
Don't you dare cry in front of these fuckers! Don't you dare!
Russ flicked Noah's ear hard with his free hand. “And a fucking earring? Are you shittin' me?”
Russ shoved him back suddenly, and Noah hit the refrigerator. His jaw throbbed from Russ' strong fingers digging into his face.
“If dad was here.” Russ said tightly. “He'd be ashamed to call you his son. He'd fuckin' disown you.”
The man's words were meant to sting, but they accomplished much more, cutting through Noah like a handful of razor blades. “Go to hell.” Noah rushed past the other guy just watching the scene, and fled the kitchen. He raced upstairs, into his room and slammed the door hard, falling back against it, choking on sobs.
“You Fucker!” He cried out, smashing his elbow back against the door, ignoring the screaming shot of pain that spiraled up his arm and into his shoulder. He sank down to the floor, his knees drawn up tight to his chest and clutched his hair in his fists. “Why the fuck did you even come home? I wish you'd go away and never come back!”
He cried against his knees, hating that Russ could reduce him to this pathetic state whenever he chose. Hating the guy for his mean words. But most of all hating that they were true.
Had his dad known he was gay...he would have been ashamed of Noah.
Embarrassed by who his son turned out to be.