The Belt
It was 17:14:32 – just after 5pm on a Wednesday afternoon when they were caught. Hakuba – then known as James – remembered his face; wry smile stretched under freckled cheeks, brown eyes squinting in amusement. John Wells. The most perfect boy he’d ever met. Athletic, smart, tragic. They’d met at the academy three years before and, somehow, ended up in the same middle school.
Together, they explored a private world of experiments and experiences. Both of his parents worked, so it was easy to sneak in after school and huddle in the under-stairs playroom. No one needed to know that they shared an intense love, or dreams of running away to Paris, and the hope that, some day, they wouldn’t have to hide. Wouldn’t have to feel so guilty about what they did together, how they felt.
He loved John. They needed each other. There was so much pain that needed to be erased. So many things to learn. John was safe. John was wonderful.
But…
They didn’t hear the heavy footsteps, nearly forty-five minutes too early, until it was far too late. Their laughter masked the closing of the front door and the door leading to the finished basement. The heat between them kept them from realizing that they were no longer alone. Really, it wasn’t until the door to their safe space was torn open, blinding them with light from the hall, that the panic fully set in.
Had they more time, even just a minute, they could have hidden what they’d done. What they’d been doing. As it was, James stared in wide-eyed surprise as John’s father hesitated a full five seconds before he grabbed the dark-haired boy by the arm, dragging him from his grasp. Rug burns on naked skin would have been bad enough, bringing a whine of sympathy to the blonde’s throat.
“Dad! No, it’s…”
“How could you do this to me? To your mum?! I thought we were PAST this!”
“Leave him alone!" It hurt. The yelling, the fear. It brought back too much too quickly. James pulled his trousers on and, heart in his throat, forced himself to step out and face the man. He’d seen too many people get hurt to stand by again. John didn’t deserve this.
However, as he looked between the two of them, his resolve faltered. There was pain in the man’s face. Anguish. John wore it, too. No one said anything for a moment as they let the outsider’s voice fade.
Then, without looking at him, the father gave a calm, simple command.”Get out.”
It was followed by one from John. “Do it, James… just go.”
"But… no, you can’t do this! He’s not doing anything wrong! It’s okay!”
“JAMES, get OUT!”
To hear those words from his lover, said like that, brought heated color to his cheeks, eyes stinging from the feeling that was something between embarrassment and betrayal. He went back into the playroom, gathered his belongings, and left without another word, just as that man slipped the leather belt from the last loop of his trousers.
The slap of it against skin and the subsequent cries reached him just before slamming the front door behind him on his way out for the last time.