things even my closest friends dont know... (breakingthec0de) wrote in cone_and_deryck,
things even my closest friends dont know...
breakingthec0de
cone_and_deryck

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SOMETHING NEW AND DIFFERENT!

Title: Life
Author: breakingthec0de (sum41willcome4u)
Pairing: cone/deryck...duh.
Rating: R, or NC-17
Disclaimer: Dont own, didnt happen...maybe next time...
Summary: Cone has familiy problems, his house burns down so he moves to Canada, and meets Deryck...blah blah blah...just read it, you know you want to.


uhh...yeah, the prologue is in highschool_fks...2 pages back of entrys..but...yeah...its not all that important...




ok heres the stuff leading up to this scene, in italics, and in Derycks POV

"uhh...sorry..." he apologized, holding out his hand to help me up.

"Watch it asshole." i said coldly ignoring his hand, and standing up on my own.




Deryck's POV

CH.1

I instantly regretted that, this guy must have been at least 6 feet tall, or something. I was only 5'5"...short stature, big temper...doesn’t go well together...

I looked at this guy again. He had spiky blonde hair. The clearest blue eyes i had ever seen, and he was really skinny...almost like he was starved or something...

"Hey, I said I was sorry." he said defensively.

“…eh, whatever, it’s ok, I’m not having a very good day anyway…” I said, feeling my anger drain away at the sincerity of his voice.

“…yeah, I don’t think I will be either…” he said more to himself, rather than me as he watched a car drive up the road.

“Umm…what’s your name?” I asked.

“Jay, but I’d much rather you call me Cone…don’t ask…” He laughed, as he fidgeted in place, and looked behind him again towards the direction the car was going.

“…oh, ok…Cone…I’m Deryck.” I said wondering to myself why he wanted to be called Cone.

“How old are you?” he asked trying to keep the conversation going, but he was still fidgeting around, like he wanted to leave.

“17, you?” I asked.

“I’m 17 too!” he answered becoming a bit happier.

“How come I’ve never seen you in school before?” I asked out of sheer curiosity.

“Oh, I just moved here, I start on Monday.” He answered looking at his shoes, and STILL fidgeting around, he must have been really nervous…

“Ok, cool.” I said, nodding my head.

There was a slightly awkward silence, then he looked up the street again.

“….ummm, look, I gotta get home. “he said, and I noticed a lot of worry in his face.

“Ok, Ill see you on Monday,” I replied as he turned and ran up the street.

“K, bye! He shouted over his shoulder.

I watched him run up the street, and turn down what must have been his driveway, and bolt into his house.
I walked into my house, and went up the stairs to my room. I got stuff together for band practice in the garage, before Steve and Dave got here. And the whole time, I couldn’t get my mind off Cone…


CH.2

CONES POV

I hated running away from Deryck like that, he was cool, and I really liked talking to him. And hey, he wasn’t that bad looking either, I loved his deep brown eyes, and his spiky brown hair…he was like a mini me, but only in different colors. And he was skinny, but not super-skinny like me…he was…well…basically perfect… Ha, and his flat nose was too cute too… (Jeez, I’m such a girl.)

But, yeah, my dad is home now, so I’m basically screwed. Because, my mom is drunk again, and whenever mom gets drunk, Dad blames it on me, cuz I’m the gay little fuck-up. So, dad beats me, and then mom gets even drunker cuz Dads beating me up…it’s like this never-ending circle. And I get the blunt of it. Yay me.

When I got home, I quietly opened and closed the front door, and started to quietly walk up the stairs, hoping he wouldn’t hear me…but as soon as I got to the 4th step, I heard his angry voice scream from the kitchen.

“JAYSON FUCKING PAUL MCCASLIN! GET YOUR USELESS ASS IN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

I shuddered at the thought of what he was going to do to me this time, and turned, and walked into the kitchen.

“Yeah Dad?” I asked trying to be nice.

“What the hell did you think you were doing talking to that kid?!?!?!” he screamed into my face. He wasn’t much taller than me, but he was built like an ox. It was scary.

“N-n…nothing, I…I was j-just talking to him, c-cuz we…we ran in…into each other.” I stammered cowering into the wall as far away from the anger as possible.

“Why the hell were you outside? You little fuck up. You’re supposed to stay with your mother till I get home!” he screamed into my face, and then slapped me. I fell onto the floor, and he kicked me in the ribs. It knocked the wind out of me, and I gasped for air as he kicked me again. “Take your shirt off, bitch!” he screamed.

No, no, not the belt, I thought to myself as I shakily pulled my shirt off over my head. Tears were streaming down my face, and he kicked me again for good measure, before whipping me 6 times with the belt.

I felt the leather hit my bare skin, and I shrieked in pain, tears streaming down my face, blurring my vision.

“Get up you pussy!” my dad yelled. “I don’t want to see you for the rest of the fucking night, no dinner or anything, go to your goddamn room, and fucking stay there!” He screamed.

I hurriedly nodded my head, grabbed my tee-shirt, and scrambled up the stairs before he could get another whack in at me. The tears still freely running down my face.

I went into my room, and locked the door. My back stung so badly. I fell face first onto my bed, and cried some more. I’d probably have a black eye tomorrow too. That definatly wouldn’t go away by Monday…what a great way to start in another school. “Hi guys, I’m Cone, like my black eye? My dad gave it to me!!” psh…just great.

…Although…I can start all over with all my excuses…since I used them all up in my old school, besides, almost everyone knew…like you couldn’t tell, if you only had half a brain, you still could tell something was up, since I’d come into school almost every other day with a new bruise. I started wearing long sleeve shirts under my tee-shirts, so no one would see the bruised handprints on my arm, and whatnot, but then everyone thought I was cutting…which I wasn’t, I had enough pain to deal with already, I didn’t need any self-inflicted wounds to go with all the other ones. One day, I even got called down to the guidance office, but luckily, my dad was on a business trip that week, so there was only one, week-old bruise on my arm, so no one thought anything of it.

But anyway…

After the tears stopped, I picked up my bass. I sat back on my bed. I played a few Smashing Pumpkins songs, then, I played a few of my own.

After that, I looked at the clock, and realized, that it was already 10, so I stripped down to my boxers, and crawled into bed. I laid on my stomach, thinking about all the stuff that happened today, like how I met Deryck. He’s so cool, I hope I see him on Monday…soon though, I fell asleep.
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