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“Why?” he demanded, using every centimeter of his height advantage to loom over Scott. “Why do you keep letting me do this? Why?”
Scott flinched a little, but didn’t back down. He chewed his lip, obviously trying to carefully choose the words Isaac wanted to hear, and that just pissed him off more. When Scott’s answer didn’t come quick enough, Isaac crowded him back until his shoulders were pressed against the wall behind him and sneered. This time, Scott did back down, averting his gaze and visibly bracing himself for whatever Isaac was about to do. Isaac stopped. It was like someone had doused him with a bucket of cold water. The flush of shame that followed only fed his lingering anger.
“That,” he spat, “Why do you do that? You’re strong. Stronger than me. Why do you keep letting me hurt you?”
No matter how hard he tried, it didn’t make sense to him. When he’d been the victim, when his father had beat him and locked him up and abused him, he’d been powerless. Scott had power, but he refused to use it. Isaac wanted to know why. Needed to know.
Scott made a face and drew a breath. Isaac knew before he even opened his mouth that whatever he was going to say was, at least in part, a lie. “After everything you’ve been through,” Scott started, “you have the right-”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Isaac interrupted, unable to resist grabbing Scott’s shoulders and shaking him. “No one has the right to do this.” With a jerk, he pulled Scott away from the wall and then slammed him back, hard enough to crack the plaster. “No one, least of all me. And you know it. Try again.”
After a pause, Scott mumbled, “I just... I don’t...”
A deep, calming breath kept Isaac from shaking him again. He let go and took a step back, guilt already bubbling in his chest. Scott rubbed a hand over the lower half of his face, sighed, then finally looked Isaac in the eye.
“I don’t want to give you a reason to leave me,” he admitted with a shrug.
Isaac had asked about Scott’s father once. A mistake. Scott had stiffened, the gentle curve of his perpetual smile had hardened into something bitter, and Isaac had felt the anger that was always bubbling low in his chest inexplicably surge.
He’s not in the picture, Scott had said, not meeting his gaze, It’s probably...
He had paused then, and Isaac’s gut had tightened. There it was. Even back then, he could feel it coming. The lie. ...it’s probably for the best. It doesn’t matter anyway.
That was the first time Isaac had ever wanted to hit Scott.
“You’re the one that should leave me,” Isaac said quietly. A cold clammy feeling crawled up his spine and he wrapped his arms around himself with a shiver. Scott was the best thing that ever happened to him, all warmth and light and understanding, and Isaac was ruining him.
With an exasperated huff, Scott stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Isaac, ignoring his half-hearted attempts to pull away. “People leave,” he said, resting his cheek against Isaac’s shoulder. “They always leave, and so many of the people you care about have left you. I’m not going to be one of them.”
It was a relief, hearing that, even if Isaac knew it was just another lie. Slowly, bit by bit, he relaxed and just let Scott hold him. It felt selfish, letting him press so close, drawing on his strength, when he knew, Isaac knew, he should push him away instead. They were never going to be okay, not really. But...if Scott could pretend, then maybe...
Isaac closed his eyes, and hugged him back.