"I could spend hours between your legs, teasing... sucking, tasting you."
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*Completed & Slowly Being Rewritten*
Previous title: Cabaret of Whispers
One night stands were supposed to be simple with no strings attached. But when Ax...
Mick shivered as a cold wind blew and he had nothing to cover himself up with.
It was a depressing image. A five-year-old walking alone to his kindergarten, shivering as he tried to fight the cold weather. If people saw him at that moment, they would see weakness and their lungs would be filled with breaths of sympathy, a sympathy they would never act on. But in truth, they saw what they wanted to see, people usually worked that way. They saw the weak child but not the survivor who had stood against all chances, taken all his beatings and never said a word.
The imprint of Bruce's leather belt would forever mar the skin of his back. It would always be there to remind him that he had never been helpless, a victim.
He had simply not been strong enough to prevail.
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Mick's problems did not stop existing after he walked out of the front door of the clubhouse. No, they followed him everywhere he went. School, for instance, was filled with problems. These problems were about five feet high but they were able to prevail most of the times. And there was not a single thing he could say about it.
And so they hurt him.
Constantly.
There were days when he couldn't even open his eyes because the pain became unbearable.
Today was one of those days. The small, brown-haired boy was pressed against a stall in the school's bathroom. His small body was receiving multiple hits and there was nothing he could do to defend himself. James, a second grader, had just managed to throw a decent punch at his eye, causing it to swell almost immediately. At that point, little Mick knew there was nothing he could do about his situation but wait until the bully let him be.
"Tell me, Fraser, why are you such a pussy? Your big, bad, biker daddy didn't teach you anything?" James taunted him but Mick was having none of it. He might not have been able to prevail physically but he had some self-respect left in his frail body.
"Does it hurt?" Mick asked, hissing as he felt blood escape from the cut on his upper lip. He was thankful he was growing up with bikers at that moment. They had taught him so many things, being a smart ass included.
James looked at him with a confused expression. "Does what hurt?"
"The fact that you can't even spell your name."
The bully's confusion turned into full-blown anger, making Mick aware of the fact that he had struck a nerve. It made him wonder if the older kid truly did not know how to spell his own name.
The bathroom's door swung open just as James had raised his fist aiming straight at Mick's other eye. His hand lowered back to his side but his hold on Mick remained as he turned to glance at the newcomer. The intruder was a little black haired boy with bright blue eyes, not much older than Mick.
