It was stupid, he knew, because it was his own god damned fault. He'd known it could happen, he'd known he didn't have much in the way of a defense, he'd fucking known the consequences, because he wasn't that naïve, but he'd done it anyway. And then he'd balked when it all came crashing down, because it was just getting to be too much.
By the time he unlocked the front door, he felt like he was going to throw up.
It wasn't so much the possibility of jailtime that scared him, or the fines, or the probation, or the fucking terms, it was the possibility that he could have everyone he loved taken away from him - all two of them. People could say or do whatever the fuck they wanted, slap him with as many fines as he could financially bear, force him into whatever they thought was appropriate, but they were crossing the line when it came to people he cared about.
By the time he met JC upstairs, he was numb.
The fucking assholes could try, he knew they would, to get him to sever all contact with people close to him. He'd try to harm them, or negatively influence them, or do something wrong to them, and they didn't want that to happen. They wanted as few people as possible to be negatively impacted by this. So they'd take away Hailie. And then they'd take away JC.
By the time JC wrapped his arms around him, cradling his head, he was crying.
And wouldn't they love that. They'd break him in and clean him up and maybe make him into a functional member of society, instead of leaving him to be some homophobic and misogynistic bastard. Maybe they'd even make him human, becuase it just wasn't right that he showed no remorse or fear or gratitude, or any emotion at all, really.
By the time JC was thrusting into him, they were both hysterical.
Maybe they'd think it was funny, if they knew the truth. Maybe they'd fucking get it, if they saw past their own god damned noses and took things for what they were, instead of what they thought they should be. Maybe if they knew anything, they'd see he really was human after all, and that he got scared, too, sometimes, and maybe that was why he said the things he did. Maybe, but he doubted it.
By the time JC pulled out, his sobs had subsided, and he was kissing JC languidly.
Or it could be that it was all his own damn fault. It could be that he deserved everything they said and did, because he really was a horrible person. It could be that everything they said was true, and the only person he was fooling was himself.
By the time he collapsed into twisted, sweaty sheets, JC, too, had calmed down.
But he figured they could try to do whatever the fuck they wanted, because some things were never going to change or go away. Like his anger, or his fear, or his opinions, or his lifestyle. Or Hailie. Or JC.
By the time he fell asleep in JC's arms, he was just Marshall, and they couldn't do anything about that, either.