Red Riding Hood

Chapter Six: "Sheep Suit"

Sitting up, Jack traced his fingers over his lips. He could still taste Mark. Despite his harsh threats and distant words... Jack's heart fluttered in his chest. Mark had stolen his first kiss. He wanted to be mad about it. He wanted to be disappointed. Yet, his heart was all a flutter and he felt so confused. Why did he feel this way? Whenever he was around Mark... everything felt so different. He made him flustered and made his feelings spiral out of control until he couldn't tell what he was feeling. Moving his hand to cup his hard on that was lightly showing within his pants, he swallowed hard with rising embarrassment. What had he done to him? Staggering up to his feet, he walked to the wall and tried to calm himself down. Leaning on the wall, he took deep breaths and thought of things that didn't involve Mark. Allowing the creeping feeling that he might like guys began to weigh him down. He had tried to shake his head to deny it, but his strange feelings for Mark were hard to deny. Did he like him like that? Was that why he was so lonely and hurting? He suddenly felt like he didn't know himself. He felt dirty and terrified. What if Mark told people to condemn him? It would be a cruel way of getting rid of the person that knew his secret.

As fear took him over, he yanked open the door of the windmill and nearly collided with the Miller. The Miller jumped in surprise, blurting out. "Jack? You alright?" Jack nodded, dashing out and running off in the general direction that he saw Mark leave in. He felt like he needed to clear this up. He needed to know that he wouldn't say anything. He needed to understand what Mark had done to him. To yell at him for stealing his kiss and making him feel so... different. Catching a glimpse of him as he passed the Pub, Jack hastened his pace. Jogging through the alley, he focused on only Mark, until someone grabbed his cloak to stop him. Whirling around, he yanked his cloak out of the hands of a man in the alley. The man was one of the Huntsmen that had come to town. He sipped his alcohol from his tankard, chuckling out in a tipsy tone. "Well, look at you. Dressed in the Devil's best?" Jack turned to leave, when another drunken Huntsmen moved away from the wall to block his escape. The burly woman reached out for his cheek, slurring out with a wicked grin. "He's so easy on the eyes. Like a little lost lamb. I could have a lot of fun with him." Jack turned to leave the way he came, but the drunken man moved into his way, chuckling out to the woman. "He's scrawny enough that you could. Must be nice to live such a plush life."

Jack kept his eyes low, nicely asking. "Let me pass. Please?" The burly woman's fingers stroked his neck, making him cringe as she purred out. "I like them scrawny. It's more satisfying to overpower them. I'd even bet he's a screamer." Jack swatted her hand off him, snapping out loudly. "Don't touch me!" The drunken man hiccupped, then said coolly with unfocused eyes. "Wait. I recognize this tart. This is the lad that thinks he can be a Huntsman. HA!" The man shoved Jack back into the arms of the burly woman, who quickly looped her arms around his to hold him tightly, while stating back through a loud chuckle. "Really? He'll piss himself if he sees an ordinary wolf!" Jack kicked and thrashed, yelling out bitterly. "Let me go! NOW!" The drunk man laughed, telling him with a shrug. "Why? We aren't hurting you. Are you scared so easily?" Jack kicked the man in the chest to keep him back and the man's attitude changed. Dropping his tankard, the man curled a fist and punched Jack in the gut. Jack gasped as the air was knocked from his lungs, tasting blood in his mouth. The drunken woman kept him up on his feet, laughing as the drunken man snapped out at him. "I'll teach you to respect your besters, boy!"

The drunken man grabbed Jack's throat, then punched him hard across the face, causing Jack to spew blood across the snow. The man raised his fist to hit him again but stopped when Mark yelled out from the end of the alley. "Let him go, Andrew!" The burly woman turned, snapping out. "Move along, Townie. This doesn't concern you." Mark took a step closer, retorting in a darker voice. "I said... Let him go." The drunken man moved away from Jack, snapping back at Mark as he approached him. "We're just having a little fun with him. But if you wanna take his place. That can be arranged." Jack coughed blood; his vision blurry from tears but he was mentally pleading for help. Mark set down his tools, telling the man sternly. "You don't want a piece of me. Just let him go and I'll spare you doctor bills." The drunken man laughed, then tried to swing at Mark. Mark caught the man's fist, his finger's digging into the man's hand. The man groaned in pain, then reached for Mark's throat with his free hand. Mark swatted the man's hand away, then punched him in the ribs so hard that Jack heard his ribs crack. The man staggered but tried to swing again at Mark. Mark easily avoided the swing, using the man's own hand to punch him in the face, knocking him out cold.