Chapter 7- The Confrontation

Stumbling down, Harvey hit his back on the couch. The punch had really sent him reeling back. Groaning lightly, he didn’t know which to massage to ease the pain. His back or his jaw.

This jaw throbbed with more pain than his back as he felt like the pain radiated into his skull. In his mouth he tasted his blood. The metallic bitter taste. 

But above all, what shocked him the most was his father, who had just voluntarily hit him. 

For what reason? He had no idea; he didn’t even know what to call it. His father had never hit him before; So why now?

From the corner of his shocked eyes, he saw Rory quietly shift and adjust himself. 

Wait… no… no… it was impossible. Surely it wasn’t because of this faggot his own father hit him.

“Father… did you… just hit me?” He muttered, rubbing his jaw. His eyes mixed anger and disbelief 

Since his birth mother died in an airplane accident. It had just been him and his father. Insufferable? Yes, after all, that's how all parents were. 

But his father was a controlled man. He rarely let things get him riled up, but here he was hitting his own son over a faggot?

Harvey slowly pushed himself off, still pressing his fingers against his split lip. His eyes locked with his father's. Now that he was standing, his father’s frame had completely covered Rory.

The way Nicholas’s chest heaved, he looked ready to kill someone, and that someone was his own son. His own biological son? Over his stepson he is sleeping with?

Harvey tilted his head as his gaze flickered past his father to Rory, who sat pressed against the headboard, his shirt partly open and fallen down half of his shoulder. His skin was marked with hideous bruises and hickeys. 

A hot, ugly twist of something unfamiliar crawled in Harvey’s gut. A redundant question loomed at the back of his head. Repeatedly, and unanswered.

‘Who the hell did that to him? Who had he laid with? Who had relieved him besides me? Why do I feel so agitated and irritated?’ 

Harvey wanted to get the answers from Rory every which way he could think about was forcibly and violently pulling the answer from Rory.

Rory’s eyes widened, fear colored them as he darted between his beloved savior Nicholas and his horrid stepbrother. His fingers clawed at the fabric of his shirt, hiding the marks from his brother’s angry eyes.

Nicholas ignored his question as he closed the space between him and his son. With a low, lethal growl. He asked again. “What do you think you are doing?”

Harvey wiped his mouth again, his laugh jagged and unsteady. “What does it look like to you?” He gestured behind him to Rory. His voice lathered with heavy mockery. 

“He has been acting like a fucking whore… even in school. I’m not about to have a faggot ruin my reputation in school just for nothing.”

Rory’s eyes widened at the baseless accusation thrown at him. Of course he wasn’t sleeping around with boys in school.

Boys.

Yes, boys, because Rory would have liked men. Or more specifically, his father. And here was Harvey accusing him of sleeping around.

Nicholas’s hands pulsed at Harvey’s sudden words. He didn’t want to dwell on it. He was going to ask Rory himself. And besides, it wasn’t like they were a thing. They slept together because he had suddenly gotten horny while drinking. 

But doesn’t that excuse the morning quickie?  

Rory could feel the tension rising as both father and son stared each other down. Digging his hand into the sheets, he breathed in before trying to interfere. 

“Harvey, stop, you—”

“Get out…” Nicholas ordered.

“What?”

“Was my voice low for you? I said, Get out.”

Harvey’s eyes widened and squinted. “What? You are kicking me out because of him? I am your son—”

“And you will cease from being that if you don’t leave here in the next minute.”

Promise.

It wasn’t a threat. It was a reassurance. A light glimpse into his future, and Nichola had two choices. Fight it out and lose everything. Or leave and try again.

Rory held his breath as he felt a sense of relief wash through him. He knew Harvey wasn't dumb enough to risk getting off the family will. He knew just how inferior Harvey felt since he came into the picture. After all, he was the only child; therefore, everything would naturally fall to him. 

But to his shock, Harvey didn’t move; he stayed glaring at his father. He chose to do both.

Both.

Words have an immense way of affecting people. A simple word can very easily get someone riled up and tense.

“Why?” Harvey whispered. Slowly and surely, the creeping realization dawned on him. Matching his father's cold stares, he pressed on.

“You are so angry… why? Because I touched it?” His words dripped like a dry, poisoned whisper. 

“Or because it is yours?”

Nicholas’s expression darkened, but Harvey easily caught it. Possession. His father, this firm disciplinary man, was possessive of something that wasn’t even his to begin with.

Possessiveness and a hint of jealousy. 

The way his jaw ticked and the way his hands clenched by his sides. 

“But don’t worry. It is alright.” Harvey concluded. He leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck. Smoothing the rumples of his shirt, he walked towards the door. Rory, praying it was all over, frowned deeply when he saw him pause just by the door. 

“Did you know... I caught your precious little boy doing something dreadful.”

For a moment, the room was silent, each wondering what he just meant by that. But Rory knew. 

He suddenly felt suffocated as his chest tightened and air refused to leave his lungs through his nose. 

“Daddy I can explain and—” 

“Do you want to know what he did?”

For a second, curiosity flashed through their father’s eyes. Just for a second. Though Harvey didn’t catch it. It didn’t matter, as he was still going to go expose Rory.

He had planned on dragging the blackmail for much longer… But the anger and disgust building up within him wouldn’t let him.

“Your precious son was wanking to your—”

“HARVEY, DON’T!!!”

A devious smirk played on his lips before completing his words.

“Underwear…”