Loving Zach (MxM)

2 Houseless not Homeless

The next morning I eat breakfast in my car and assiduously roam around the town looking for a job. A single application and that's it. Not the best scenario, but there's nothing I can do. I returned to my car at the dusk.

I know Daisy said she'll meet me at the park at six, but I didn't go. Her brother doesn't want me around her, so it's better if I stay away.

I come back to my car with a fairly good mood, thinking about other ways to find a job. I need to get a newspaper. How had I not thought about it? But my good mood sinks fast when I notice a ticket on my car's front window.

Fuck! No! Shit!

I take a ticket and sink down on the ground, my back against the side door. Crap, what do I do? Okay, I can pay for the ticket, but if not moved, my car will be towed. Then what? Then I will really be homeless. Because right now my car is my home. That counts, right? It's homeless, not houseless, right? I don't have a house, but I do have a home - place where I feel safe, where I'm warm and where I can be myself, that's what's important. I close my eyes and bang my head against the passenger door.

"Zach?"

I stop banging my head but don't open my eyes. I know that rich and smooth voice and maybe if I don't look at him he will go away.

You're stupid! Stupid, useless piece of shit! My father's voice has returned.

"Zach? Are you okay?" And Dean is still here. He sounds concerned, but who knows.

I take a deep breath, open my eyes, and get to my feet. I don't look at Dean. "I'm fine. Everything is fine, thank you." Sidestepping him I go in the park's direction. My head is low, my shoulders up, I don't look over my shoulder, but I know he's following. It makes me more tense.

Please leave me alone. I beg in my mind, but Dean follows.

"Hey, you sure you're alright? You look upset?"

Men don't cry! You're a disgrace of a man. Worthless fool.

My father said that at Mom's funeral, didn't he? How long ago that was? Fifteen years? And it still sounds as if he's next to me. I swallow a lump and keep going.

"Hey, Zach?!!" Dean yanks my hand and spins me to face him. I flinch and I think I even whimper. He immediately releases my hand and takes a step back. I'm still looking at the ground and see in my periphery that his thick hands lift. I wait for a blow... Then he takes another step back and curses under his breath.

"I'm sorry, Zach. I didn't mean to scare or hurt you. I'm sorry." Dean drawls in a low but even tone like he was talking to a scared kid. "It's okay."

He takes another step away from me. I wait. When he doesn't move or say anything, I shuffle back a step, another, one more. When he's still not moving, I turn around and dash past the park and further into the town. I don't know how long I run, but when I stop my lungs hurt, my legs feel like jelly and I can barely think. I turn into a squalid alley and slide to the ground with my back against a brick wall. My eyes sting, but I try to even my breaths.

Shit! Fuck! Fuck! Shit!

I curse in my head and it helps. I take a deep breath and curse some more. Another deep breath.

When I was ten, I cursed in front of my father for the first time. I hit my toe on a corner of a kitchen counter and a ''Shit!'' was out of my mouth before I could think. It was the first time he hit me. Just backhanded me across the face. But it was the beginning. I cried and apologized, but he kept yelling that I was a disrespectful piece of shit. From that day I cursed only in my head and as the time went by and his beating got more regular and more violent cursing to myself became an outlet and a coping mechanism.