A/N: Yes, I'm aware that all but Andy's ages are "incorrect". I wanted them to be in high school together, which would've been hard to manage if I'd used their true ages, which is why I changed them.
~Cyn


Upon getting home that evening, Ashley barely spoke more than two sentences to his grandparents before heading up to his room and hiding from the world. No one knew about the depression he suffered from that stemmed from his parents’ untimely demise eleven years ago, which was what caused him to be living with his grandparents right now. No one understood why he didn’t seriously date the girls that all but threw themselves into his lap every day. But most importantly, no one knew that he was secretly queer as a three-dollar bill.

He kept that secret hidden deep, fantasizing about a random guy at school he thought was hot whenever he’d end up in bed with a girl, keeping just enough of a grip on reality to keep from calling them by someone else’s name. Not even the rest of the biker gang he hung out with, therefore adding to his reputation as an outcast, knew his true sexuality.

It wasn’t because he didn’t want the guys to know he was gay; he couldn’t care less if they knew, to be honest, since he knew they wouldn’t judge him. It was just that he didn’t want to tell them and have somebody overhear his secret, then start spreading the news all over campus. He’d never be able to live it down, even if he weren’t actually gay, and he knew it. And if anyone found out that he was now crushing on the new kid, Andy, who appeared to be straight as a pole, he might as well go kill himself. That was the main reason he’d been uncharacteristically quiet all day, especially around him.

“If only I could just come out of my personal closet,” he whispered, tears running down his face as he looked at his reflection in his mirror. “If only I didn’t have to be afraid of being beaten again for being gay.”

That was another reason why he didn’t tell anyone about his true sexuality. At the middle school he’d attended four years ago before even starting high school, he’d made the mistake of telling someone he thought was his friend that he was gay. The bastard turned out to be a homophobic jock who’d just been pretending to be like him, and had spread his secret all over school. He, along with the rest of the jocks, had taken it upon themselves to try and “beat the queer out of him” every day until the end of the school year.

When his grandparents found out what was going on, they moved from the small town in Missouri that he’d grown up in to Cincinnati, hoping for a fresh start. Considering that no one around here knew him or his past, and that he’d had the good sense to keep his mouth shut so far, no one had messed with him since his last day of middle school. It was like a breath of fresh air.

But still, Ash found himself far more miserable than a popular young ladies’ man such as himself should be. That coupled with the depression he suffered from, unbeknownst to anyone around him, including his grandparents, drove him to do things he normally wouldn’t have done. Since he liked wearing T-shirts, or better yet, no shirt at all, he never self-harmed in a place that a T-shirt wouldn’t hide, or that would be exposed if he were shirtless. That was why he had various scars, fresh wounds, and burn marks up and down his thighs, although it was mostly scars and cuts. After all, singed hair smelled like a rotting polecat in the middle of mating season, and he was the first to admit that his legs were pretty hairy.

He leaned against the bathroom door, which he’d closed just moments before while lost in his thoughts, and slid down it to the floor. More tears ran down his cheeks, taking his eyeliner and mascara with them, as he leaned forward to grab the box full of razor blades from beneath his sink. Since his grandparents didn’t know about his self-harm or depression, and had no reason to worry about him, they didn’t know about the box full of “friends” that he kept hidden there. As quietly as a church mouse, he took one of the blades from the box, stood up, and stripped his skinny jeans and boxers from his body.

“One for being born,” he growled, yanking the blade across his thigh. “Two for being the reason my parents were out that night. Three for liking guys instead of girls. Four for crushing on Andy when I don’t even know him.”

With every negative thought that popped into his head, especially the ones he deemed shameful, he yanked the razor blade across his skin. More and more cuts appeared until he realized he’d cut himself a total of twenty-five times. There was blood running down his leg and all over his hand and the blade, but that crimson liquid made him feel better about himself.

He quickly rinsed off the shiny metal and his hand, then grabbed a wash cloth and soaked it so he could clean up his leg. He hissed like a pissed-off cat as the cold rag touched his leg, his skin stinging like a colony of fire ants had started attacking him, as he cleaned himself up. Since he was already more or less naked, Ash decided he might as well just jump in the shower before bandaging his leg and making his way back to his room. There was no sense in going in there to get dressed for bed, only to trudge back down the hall a short time later and get undressed again for a shower, and no sense in bandaging his leg twice.

Once he was out of the shower, he wrapped a long towel around his waist, thankfully hiding his body from his waist to his knees. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway since his grandparents never came upstairs to check on him, and their eyesight was too poor to see the damage to his thigh from the bottom of the stairs. With a sigh, he returned to the only place he considered his salvation, threw the towel across his desk chair to dry, and didn’t even bother with boxers before falling onto his bed.

* * *

The next morning, Ash awoke to his alarm screaming the chorus to Unholy by KISS, one of his favorite songs, right into his ear. With a growl of sleep-deprived frustration since he didn’t want to go to school, he turned off the alarm, but still got up anyway. If there was one thing that most people knew about him, it was that he was anything but a morning person. He preferred staying up into the wee hours of the morning and sleeping all day, much like a vampire, and definitely hated getting up at sunrise.

Cursing like a sailor under his breath the entire time, he made his way over to his dresser for a pair of boxers once he remembered he’d slept nude. With those on, despite the pain they caused from rubbing against his slaughtered thigh, he limped over to his closet for a pair of black skinny jeans and a KISS shirt that he’d bought from Hot Topic. There was very little he wore that wasn’t black, his Hello Kitty underwear and pajamas being basically the only exceptions, so he basically looked the same every day. The only difference really was how tight his jeans were, or the logo on his shirt.

After getting dressed, he grabbed his bookbag and helmet before heading downstairs to find something miniscule for breakfast. Since they’d been retired for a couple years now, his grandparents never awoke any earlier than ten AM, and he envied them. He’d kill to be able to sleep till then, especially since school let out at two, but alas, that was a dream that’d never become a reality in this lifetime.

The apple he had wasn’t much and likely wouldn’t last very long, but he couldn’t be bothered with actually trying to make food with two old codgers who weren’t morning people either trying sleep just down the hall. It was bad enough that the roar of his bike would likely have them cussing before long since he refused to get an actual car; he didn’t need to make it worse by making too much noise trying to feed himself. With that thought in mind, Ash grabbed his keys, helmet, and bookbag so he could head out to the garage and get his beast out. He’d back it out into the driveway, maybe even all the way down to the street, before he fired it up…but only if he was feeling particularly nice.

“Time to head off to the place I call Hell,” he sighed, strapping his helmet on.

Holding his bike up today was gonna be a challenge since his thigh still hurt like a mother fucker, but he’d done it before, and done it when it hurt worse than this. If he could do it when he could barely feel his leg from fifty cuts marching up and down it, he could do it now since there were only half as many. He scowled and growled deep in his throat as he twisted the throttle and slammed his thumb on the “Start” button, the gas turned on and the key twisted into the correct position.

The loud roar of his Dark Custom Cross Bones would’ve scared anybody who wasn’t expecting it or was trying to sleep, which included his grandparents. He heard loud curses from inside his house, likely his grampa after being rudely awakened, although how he managed that over the bike was beyond him. With a nonchalant shrug, he made sure there was no traffic coming before backing his bike into the street.

Only a few minutes passed before he pulled into the junior parking lot behind the high school he and his outcast friends went to. He pulled into his normal spot, surprised to see that CC’s Nightster wasn’t already in the spot next to his where it normally was. When he looked at his phone moments later, he wasn’t too surprised, considering that it was only quarter after seven, and his friend was notorious for nearly being late. How he’d gotten to school as early as he had the day before was beyond him. Ash sighed and shook his head as he took his time locking the handlebars and getting his things out of the saddlebags.

“Morning, stranger!”

He turned to see Jake, who’d apparently had to drive his mom’s car, standing behind him. For once, he was without that bitch he called a girlfriend, Ella.

“Morning,” he answered, still trying to get fully woken up.

“Still trying to get woken up?” Jake chuckled.

“Yeah. I could use some of CC’s hyperactivity right about now,” he yawned.

“Speaking of, CC’s not gonna be here today.” He frowned. “Apparently Casey wasn’t acting right last night and had to be hospitalized. He thinks it’s the flu, and with her delicate condition, you know how bad that can be.”

“Holy shit. Were you the only one he told?” Ash asked.

“Yeah. He wanted me to let Sammi know since they’re in all the same classes and he couldn’t get in touch with her or Jinxx last night,” he answered.

“I hope she starts doing better soon.” He frowned as well. “Hell only knows that losing her after everything he’s been through could kill CC.”

“No shit. Hopefully we can keep that part of our concern toned down around Andy since he doesn’t know all of CC’s past.”

“Yeah. We’ll have to warn Sammi and Jinxx to do the same.”

The pair nodded at one another and started furiously trying to get in touch with the other couple as they headed toward their tree. Turned out that Sammi wasn’t feeling well either, and Jinxx was staying home to take care of her, so neither of them would be there. Jake’d finally told him that Ella dumped him the night before and trashed his bike, which was why he hadn’t rode it this morning, so there was no point in trying to tell her; it wasn’t necessary. The only other one to show up was Andy, and they knew when he arrived from the roar of his Heritage Softail that died into an orgasmic purr when he parked.

“Morning, guys,” he said, his basement-deep voice sending shivers down Ash’s spine.

“Morning,” the pair answered in unison.

“Where’s everyone else?” he asked, confusion in his beautiful icy-blue eyes.

“Sammi’s not feeling well and Jinxx stayed home to take care of her, CC’s at the hospital with Casey, who’s apparently sick, as well, and Ella dumped me last night and trashed my bike,” Jake answered shortly.

“Jesus. I hope Casey’s doing better soon,” Andy said, remembering what CC’d told him the day before. “I’m sorry to hear about your relationship, and I’m guessing this means I’ve gotta tell our teachers about Sammi and CC since we’re all in the same classes.”

“Thanks, man.” The hazel-eyed guy moved to give him a bro-hug. “And yeah, I suppose you do.”

Ash stayed quiet as they stood there talking about any and everything under the sun, sitting on the ground beneath the tree. His leg hurt too badly from slaughtering it the night before to keep his weight on it for too long, and riding his bike this morning hadn’t helped. But it wasn’t long before they realized he was silent, which Jake knew was unusual for him.

“Hey, Ash. You okay?” he asked, squatting down beside him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. My leg just hurts like hell,” he answered.

“What’d you do?” he asked, already knowing the answer. He was one of the very few who knew that he self-harmed.

“Ran into the dining room table and cut it on the corner,” Ash lied. He knew Jake could see in his eyes that he was lying.

Liar, he mouthed, confirming his suspicions. “Ouch, that has to hurt,” he said instead, not wanting to spill the beans to Andy.

“Yeah, it does. And riding the Dark Prince this morning didn’t help.”

“You sure coming to school was such a smart idea?”

“I’m starting to wonder. My leg’s hurting bad enough that I just wanna throw my guts up and pass out, which is way worse than earlier.”

“Tell ya what. You take my mom’s car and go the hell home so you can get some rest. I’ll ride your bike to your house after school so you have it tomorrow, ’cause I don’t want you on it if your leg’s hurting that bad,” Jake told him, pulling a keyring from his pocket.

“Are you sure, Jake? Won’t your mom kill you for letting someone else drive her car?” Ash asked uncertainly.

“She’d rather you get home safely than kill yourself on the Dark Prince because of your leg hurting too bad to ride it,” his friend assured him.

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. Now get outta here before one of our teachers sees ya.”

With a smile of thanks, he traded keyrings with his best friend, accepted his hand to get off the ground, and gave him a bro-hug before limping out to Mrs. Pitts’ car. Thankfully he’d been able to ignore Andy for the most part, so that kept him from blushing like a madman the entire time he was near him, and thankfully he still had the keys to his parents’ old cabin. He could just go hang out there for a few hours until school let out, then go home, so his grandparents wouldn’t know he skipped school.


For the rest of the day, Andy couldn’t help but think how strange it was that the majority of the people he’d somewhat made friends with were absent on the second day of school. CC and Sammi both had legitimate reasons, as CC was Casey’s legal guardian and had to be at the hospital with her, and Sammi shouldn’t be in school if she wasn’t feeling well. He hadn’t seen Ella that morning, though Jake finally told him that they broke up the night before and she’d trashed his bike, so that explained that absence. But Ashley…what on Earth had he really done to his leg to make it hurt as bad as he claimed?

Unless his guess was wrong, he didn’t think he’d run into his dining room table and cut his leg on the corner, as he’d claimed. He thought it was more likely that he’d self-harmed the previous night and riding his bike had aggravated the wounds too much. Considering that he’d been known to self-harm before, and his thighs being one of his favorite spots to do so, he knew the signs and “symptoms”.

By the end of the day, he was worried about all of them besides Ella; she may not be his now ex-girlfriend, but it pissed him off when he heard about someone destroying another’s property, especially a bike. He sent a text to all three of those he actually cared about shortly before the last bell rang, hoping to hear back from them. CC answered to say that Casey was stable, but not being released for a while, Jinxx answered to say that Sammi was napping, and Ashley didn’t answer at all.

“Hey Jake, have you tried getting in touch with Ashley since you sent him home?” Andy asked when they met up under their tree.

“No. I figured he’d do exactly as I said,” he answered.

“Hmm. I’m worried about all of them, but he’s the one I’m worried about most,” he admitted.

“Why? Someone queer as a three-dollar bill with a crush on the Purdy Boy?” Jake snickered.

“Grow up,” he snapped, his face flushing as he unknowingly guessed the truth. “Honestly, I don’t think he ran into a dining room table and cut his leg on the corner last night.”

“What makes you think that?” the other guy asked, sobering up.

“Because I self-harm.” He looked down at his feet as he pulled up his bracelets to show him his scars and fresh wounds. “I think he probably self-harmed last night, his thigh being his place of choice, and took it too far. I also think that riding his bike this morning just aggravated the wounds too much.”

“You’re right about Ash self-harming, at least in the past,” Jake admitted. “Don’t tell him I told you, but we figured it out one day after he cut his wrist and the wound opened in class. If he figures out you know, just give him the same explanation as you gave me; it’ll make just as much sense to him.”

“Well, shall we check on him once we get to his house?” Andy asked.

“Might as well. There’s no telling what that wild child has gotten into by now,” he agreed.

They walked off to the junior parking lot, where he straddled his own bike as he waited for his friend to straddle Ashley’s. Once their stuff was in the saddlebags and their helmets were on, they fired the bikes up and got ready to head over to the other guy’s house, both hoping that he was okay. He wouldn’t admit it since he was pretty sure the tanned Playboy was as straight as a pole, but Andy was queer as a three-dollar bill and had the biggest crush on him that he’d had on someone in years.

It wasn’t long after they left the school parking lot that they pulled up outside what Jake said was Ashley’s house. An elderly-looking couple sat outside on the front porch, and Andy wondered if they were his parents as he took his helmet off. He didn’t think that could be possible, as old as they looked, unless he was a really late-in-life baby for them, which could explain it.

When the elderly woman realized that it wasn’t her grandson on his bike, but his friend, she rose from her position on the swing and started down the stairs. Jake stopped her, telling her to stay where she was and they’d come up to her, which earned him a smile that clearly thanked him for being a gentleman. Once the straps of their helmets were secured so they could be hung off the handlebars of the bikes, they headed up onto the front porch to talk to the elderly couple about their friend.

“Afternoon, Grama Anne,” Jake said, standing on the porch by the stairs, Andy at his side. He raised his voice a bit as if she were hard of hearing.

“Good afternoon, Jacob. What brings ya by?” the elderly woman asked. Her voice was raised a bit, and when Andy got a good look at her, he saw a hearing aid in her ear.

“Has Ashley been home yet?” he countered curiously.

“No, can’t say as he has. I guess that explains why you’ve got his motorcycle,” Grama Anne answered. “Who’s this young feller behind ya?”

“This is our new friend, Andy. He just started at our school yesterday,” he answered, gesturing for him to step forward.

“Hi there, Andy,” the elderly woman said, extending her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet ya.”

“A pleasure to meet you, too,” Andy answered, accepting her handshake.

“Just call me Grama Anne, like Ashley and the rest of the boys do,” she told him, turning her attention back to Jake. “I’m guessin’ ya sent Ashley home early if yer on his bike.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, ma’am. He said his leg was hurting and it was making him sick. I didn’t want him riding his bike home, and since I had my mom’s car for the day, I just told him to take it and I’d bring his bike back later,” Jake explained.

“He say what he did to it? Shaun here likely woulda heard ’im better’n me if he’d hurt himself last night.”

“He said he ran into the dining room table and cut it on the corner.” He knew it was a bald-faced lie, but he’d told him before that his grandparents didn’t know about his self-harm.

“Hmm. Well, I never heard a thing. Course, he coulda done it after we went to bed, ‘n’ you boys know I don’t wear my hearin’ aid to bed.” Grama Anne looked puzzled.

“I never heard a thing,” Shaun, whom Andy assumed was his grandfather now, spoke up. “I’m not quite as hard of hearin’ as Anne, but I still coulda missed my grandson hurtin’ himself last night.”

“You think he went to the cabin?” Jake asked, which left Andy confused.

“Yeah, that’s prob’ly where he’s at if he’s not here,” his grandmother answered.

“Thank you, Grama Anne. We’ll go check up there for you since we know cell phone signal is nill up there.” He moved forward to hug the elderly woman.

“Bring ’im back to us safe, ya hear? That boy’s been through a lot, and he makes us worry ’bout ’im, even if he doesn’t mean to.”

“I’ll do my best. You two have a good evening,” Jake responded, feigning tipping a hat to her as he walked back down to the driveway.

“So what cabin were you talking about up there?” Andy asked as he followed suit, still confused.

“There’s a bit of a back-story that goes with that answer,” he warned him. “When Ashley was eight, his parents were killed in a car accident. He blames himself because it was his birthday and they were going out to get his present when they hit a patch of black ice. Their car started skidding and slammed into a tree. According to the medical examiner’s report, which his grandmother kept a copy of, they died almost instantly because the impact tore their aortas in half.”

“Holy shit. What a way to go,” he breathed, his icy-blue eyes widening in shock. “If he really does self-harm, to this day, it’s no wonder why.”

“Well, I suspect that’s not the only reason, but I don’t know for sure.” The other guy shrugged. “Anyway, his parents had an old cabin that was passed down from his paternal grandparents. They left it to him in their will, although he couldn’t have it in his name until he was eighteen.”

“How old is he? I thought he wasn’t older than seventeen.”

“You were close. Ashley and CC are the oldest out of us all. They’re nineteen, Jinxx and Sammi follow at eighteen, Ella and I are next at seventeen, and I’m guessing you’re either the same age or the baby of our group.”

“I’m sixteen, so I’m the baby,” Andy answered, nodding his head.

“Well, that cabin’s been in his name for over a year. He usually heads up there when he feels like he needs to be alone so he can clear his head,” Jake told him. “That’s not always the smartest idea, considering his self-harm issues, but what can we do to stop him, short of chaining him to his bed?”

“That’s true enough, I suppose. He and others like him are lucky if they have friends that care, like you,” he said, releasing a depressed sigh.

His new friend just gave him a confused, yet curious look.

“I have self-harm issues, as well, although it’s been about a month since I did anything to harm myself,” he explained. “It’s because of all the bullying from previous schools. At one point last year, I was so depressed because of it that I nearly ended my life. If my best friend, Matt Good, hadn’t found me right after I popped a vein, I’d be dead right now.”

“You seriously took it that far?” Jake was shocked.

“Yeah, although I wasn’t actually trying to kill myself that night.” Andy shivered from the memory. “I was upset because I got called a fag, among other things, one too many times that day. I went to cut my arm and accidentally cut too deep.”

His new friend just pulled him into a hug, despite their height differences. “Just know that the guys and I, even Ashley, are always here for you, man.”

“Thanks. That means a lot, considering that Matt still lives in Michigan.”

“I’m guessing you’re still gonna keep in touch with him, but seeing each other likely won’t be a big possibility now that you live in Ohio, right?”

“Exactly. Now, before we end up too depressed, how are we gonna get out to Ashley’s cabin?” he asked.

“Well, I was thinking we could just take your bike, me riding bitch,” Jake answered. “I mean, he’s already got my mom’s car up there, if that’s where he’s at, and I don’t want him riding his bike with his leg the way it is.”

“He’ll just have to ride bitch then on the way home. That, or you’ll have to bring him home when you get your mom’s car back,” Andy said.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agreed.

The pair strapped their helmets on and Andy straddled his bike, slowly rolling it backwards toward the foot of the Purdys’ driveway. He grabbed the clutch and twisted the throttle as he fired it up while Jake climbed onto the back. He could feel the extra weight from his passenger, although he couldn’t weigh more than his own weight of a buck thirty, so it shouldn’t be that bad. And if he had troubles balancing the bike with his friend riding bitch, he could always pull over and they could swap out.

Once Jake was comfortably on the back, his fingers looped through his belt loops like Sammi’s had been through Jinxx’s the night before, he knocked his helmet against Andy’s to let him know he was ready whenever he was. He kept a good grip on the clutch and put the bike in gear, not quite lifting his feet off the ground until they picked up enough speed to avoid losing their balance and falling over like a domino.

Even though he wasn’t from the area, it wasn’t very hard for Andy to follow his passenger’s directions, and soon they came upon an old back road that was in serious disrepair. He felt a bit unsafe trying to ride over the broken pavement, but figured that if the rest of the gang did it on occasion, so could he. It wasn’t long after turning onto the road that they finally saw a clearing in the woods, a rustic-looking log cabin sitting in the middle of it, and he realized that it’d been a driveway, not a road. They saw Jake’s mother’s car sitting outside the cabin, so it was obvious they’d arrived at their destination. Now the trick was getting Ashley to come home.

Notes