Fear of Love

I feel obliged to add a TRIGGER WARNING to this chapter for physical abuse and homophobia. It got pretty heavy. So, feel free to skip this if you feel like it might be rough for you. ~Aiden

There was very little sleep for Tony after the call with Rowan ended so abruptly. “Not tonight, I’m already in bed.” Tony lied. As much as he wanted to be there for Rowan, he needed to think of himself first. Rowan accepted the rejection easily Tony thought. Maybe too easily, and that didn’t help the empty feeling in the pit of Tony’s stomach. 

Rowan’s voice sounded thick and wet like he was holding back sobs that Tony knew were unrestrained now. Now that he was alone, and Tony wasn’t running to be by his side. It also didn’t help that Tony was catastrophizing the entire situation in his mind. It hurt him to think of Rowan, falling apart, curled up in a ball alone. 

Tony struggled to push Rowan out of his mind, but the broken tone that pushed through the phone speaker didn’t just tug but yanked Tony’s heartstrings until his heart rested uncomfortably in his throat. He couldn’t find comfort in his bed, so Tony gave up and trodded to the living room and fired his game console to life. Maybe killing zombies would take his mind off Rowan. 

—-

Amir stuck his head through the slightly opened door to Rowan’s room. He didn’t speak right away, unsure how deep he wanted to sink himself in Rowan’s drama. All he initially saw was a lump of blankets that seemed to tremble, sniffle and sob. At least the wailing has stopped. Amir thought selfishly to himself. Maybe I should just try to go to sleep.”Hey Row, you good man?” He regretted getting involved before the words fully left his mouth. 

A flume of blanket flipped through the air of his dimly lit room, revealing Rowan’s splotchy red face. Even in the soft glow of lights through the window, Amir saw his puffy red-lined eyes. “No.” Rowan huffed. “I’m so fucking stupid!”

“Does this have something to do with that black guy you were with earlier?” Amir cringed at the visual image of the two of them fucking. 

From somewhere in the Middle East, Rowan had never cared enough to ask where, Amir and his religious background couldn’t fathom the idea of two guys being intimate. Since moving to the U of M campus for American education, he had worked really hard to accept homosexuality, but it was still wrong in his mind. He didn’t want to see it, even though it seemed like it was all around him on campus. He swore not to be so old school about it. 

“No.” Rowan snapped. “Yes! Well…” Did it have anything to do with Quan? “No. It’s me. I suck.” Rowan finally settled. 

Amir stood between the foot of Rowan’s bed and the wall silently agreeing with Rowan, he wanted to be in his own bed. “Want to talk about it?” He hoped not. 

In the few months that they had been roommates, Amir avoided Rowan the best he could. His boisterous personality and the selfishness that Amir saw in Rowan were off-putting enough that Amir spent most of his time outside of their dorm. 

“I just, there’s this really good guy…” 

“Tony?” Amir interrupted already knowing the answer because he did seem like a good guy. They had crossed paths a couple of times. 

“Yes. Anyway, he likes me and I keep fucking it up and now he won’t talk to me.” Rowan’s whiny tone made Amir’s skin crawl. 

Amir had no problems accepting that Rowan kept messing things up with Tony, he’d seen several other male callers coming for Rowan. “What happened?”

Without a lot of graphic detail, Rowan told Amir about how he’d get close to Tony before icing him and blowing him off, he recounted the night he got separated from Tony in the club and how after spending the night with Tony, he ran out on him after things got too heavy and basically ghosted him. He was sure to add that nothing had happened, hoping not to freak Amir out. 

“So, you’re scared of him?” Amir insinuated, more than asked. 

Rowan thought about Amir’s question for a while. Was he afraid of Tony? He didn’t think so, Tony had always been good to him. He thought back to the first time they met on campus. The big hillbilly stud with a sexy southern accent. He was so polite and respectful that it made Rowan’s cock swell just from the mundane conversation. Two weeks later, Amir was pounding on the door grumping something about trying to sleep. Rowan and Tony giggled under the comforter and tried to be less loud. 

“No.” Rowan decided he wasn’t afraid of Tony. But there was definitely something wrong within himself. Tony was nothing like Liam, totally opposite. “It’s not him Amir, it’s me.” 

“What’s that mean Row?”

The silence hung heavy in the air. Rowan thought back to the slight freak out he had earlier when something Quan said or did triggered Liam’s memory. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what that something was, but even now, his body tensed and his pulse sped up. He was afraid, but not of Tony. “I’m not sure.” Rowan lied. “But I’m not afraid of Tony. He’s a good person, unlike…” his words trailed off. 

Rowan rolled to his back and saw Amir, maybe for the first time since they first met. Fuck, he had been such a dick to that boy and he suddenly felt remorse for it. “Hey Amir?”

“Yeah?” 

“Thank you.”

Amir looked at Rowan, his skin was swollen with varying patches of red across his cheeks and forehead, but the tears were no longer streaming down his face. He offered a reassuring smile to Rowan. “If your good, I’m going back to bed.” 

Rowan wasn’t good, he was the opposite actually. However, at this moment, he was better and he had Amir to thank for it. His head nodded in rapid succession, “Good night.” 

Rowan lay still in his darkened room, sorting through thoughts, pushing memories away. His red-encircled blue eyes were lidded and heavy after his latest mental breakdown. There was no shame present when he thought about Amir seeing him in such an ugly and weak state. There was something different, he felt, thankful for the kindness he was shown. 

It wasn’t very long before Rowan found himself drifting reluctantly into a hazy state. He fought the closing of his eyes in a losing battle as sleep took him over. What followed quickly after was that reoccurring dream, or rather the nightmare that he couldn’t stop. 

From a bird’s eye view, he saw himself on a stage, behind a brown wooden podium. He was giving some kind of commencement speech at an unknown function. Mid-sentence, his mind went blank and he started stuttering, his words wouldn’t come. 

There was a familiar voice yelling at him from the crowd, it was chanting “You suck.” Slowly the others in the audience started in on the chant. Within seconds the thunderous calls vibrated off of the auditorium walls. He felt himself cower to the condemnation until his dream self morphed into a young boy about eleven. 

He was in his childhood bedroom, playing with his sister’s dolls. He had put makeup on one of the doll faces and was brushing through its hair when his father busted in and screamed “No son of mine is going to be playing with dolls!” Before yanking him by one arm, off of the floor and threatening an ass whipping if he ever was caught “doing faggot things” again. 

Rowan’s sleeping body rustled in the safety of his duvet while his dream took him to a kitchen table. He was older now, fourteen as he watched himself crying and begging his father to love him. His dad just glared at him in disgust before he stood from his chair and growled. His voice was harsh and cold, “I don’t have a son!” 

His mother cried and begged Ralph to calm down and think about the things he was saying. Her arms were wrapped around a young blonde-headed Rowan as his father turned his back to them both and left the room. It was only a few months after that afternoon that his dad turned his back on their entire family. He became a monthly child support check, but never a birthday card or a Christmas present. 

The young Rowan buried his head in the soft skin of his mother’s neck and balled, apologizing repeatedly against her warm and loving pats. When he backed away from her embrace, he was face to face with his first and only boyfriend, Liam. 

Rowan’s face stung as warm liquid dripped from the corner of his eye. Liam’s face was contorted into a snarl as his fist swung wildly again, hitting Rowan’s cheekbone. He felt a snap in his face that was followed by fiery hot pain. His body betrayed him and seventeen-year-old Rowan fell to the floor. Liam’s booted foot was repeatedly impacting his side. He begged Liam, “Please? I’m sorry.” in between the impacts of being kicked. 

“You’re fucking worthless, you piece of shit.” Liam kept repeating. 

“Please stop?” Rowan begged. “I’ll never tell you no again!” 

In his dream, Rowan remembered not feeling well, he had stayed home from school that morning because he was throwing up. Liam, who was two years older than Rowan wanted to fuck him and didn’t care how bad Rowan’s stomach hurt. When Rowan told him no, not today, Liam lost his mind and put Rowan in the hospital. 

When the police asked him who did this to him, Rowan protected his abuser and told them a story about getting jumped by some guy in the city. “I didn’t get a look at him.” Rowan told the officer. “He hit me from behind.”

When Rowan was discharged from the hospital a few days later, with two broken ribs, a fractured cheekbone, and stitches above his right eye, his mom had allowed Liam to bring him home from the hospital. Roses and a condolence card were waiting for Rowan in the front seat of Liam’s Benz. No apology, no thank you for not ratting him out, just a couple last-minute trinkets to look like the good boyfriend. 

It took Rowan nearly six months to finally open up to his mother about the abuse he was living with and moving a thousand miles away, to Ann Arbor to finally get away from Liam. 

When Rowan’s alarm woke him up at eight-thirty the next morning he didn’t feel like he slept at all. His mind was foggy and his body ached, he assumed from the tension of his dream and all the crying before he fell asleep. He needed to reach out and try to see Tony, although he knew Tony would be in a lecture first thing this morning. After a shower. Rowan told himself. 

He gathered his shower caddy and a clean towel and padded out of his room. Amir was standing in front of the compact stove when Rowan walked into the kitchen. “I’m making pancakes, want some?” Amir asked. 

Rowan was shocked. The two of them barely spoke, let alone shared any meals together. “Um, yeah. Sure.” Rowan answered, wondering if he was still dreaming. “Thanks.”

“How are you feeling this morning?” Amir inquired between shoveling pancakes by the half into his mouth with alarming speed. 

“I uh, I dunno. Better I guess.” Rowan told him as he pushed a much smaller bite of pancake through a puddle of syrup on his plate. “I’m going to try to talk to Tony again.” 

“Good luck. And whatever it is, do yourself a favor and be honest.” Amir’s advice was solid. Honesty was scary for Rowan, but Tony deserved it from him, and so much more. He just couldn’t believe that he deserved Tony. 

After breakfast and his shower, Rowan typed out a text, “Please can we talk? I know I’ve been a dick and probably don’t deserve a chance to explain, but I feel like I owe you this.” 

Rowan checked his phone every thirty seconds for the next fourth-five minutes hoping and waiting for a response. When it finally came, he held his phone for several minutes, afraid to open the text and be rejected. 

“Ok. My place. Last class is out at five.”