Plot: Living in the streets ain't easy and it's harder when you're nothing but a child in the world ruled by adults. But under a bridge was still better than living in a hell hole.

At least that's the core belief Antonio held when he lived in the garbage dumpsters and wonder the streets of LA. At the age of 12 he has seen things no child should ever see, with sadistic parents and a shady uncle moved in with them, life had been more than unkind for the boy until he found his chance to escape and took it.

Now his new home is cardboard box and he loves it more than anything, until a car drove up to him one day and a mysterious man asked him for a ride. Eagerly, Antonio accepted the offer and his life changed for the better. Now he is 18 and on his birthday makes a wish that his new foster dad would love him more than just a son...

A/N: for the record this is not an incest story.
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Chapter one: Rain

If there was anything, in this world, that I hated the most, then it must be the rain.

For as long as I could remember I've grown to despise dreary weathers such as this, for it reminds me of events in my life I wish I could forget. It would rain whenever my dad beat me to unconsciousness. It would rain when my mom burned me with one of her cigarettes as if I was one of her dirty ash trays, or her flat irons whenever she was in one of her worst moods imaginable. And it would rain the hardest when they force me into a lonesome trailer in the backyard, where my creepy, possibly convicted uncle would have his way with me..

I shudder each time those memories would come back to me. I told myself that it was all in the past but the brain works in mysterious ways. The worst of the worst will never leave you but you can hardly ever remember the good things that has ever happened.

But one good thing has happened to me... Actually two. One was the fact I had escaped and two was him.

Mr.Reed, my second dad, my savoir, and my crush.

Just then I see bright headlights from my bedroom window and the smooth purr of an engine that follows right after. As quick as humanly possible, I stumble from my bed, practically running towards the window that is right next to my desk.

I wrench the bedroom curtains open, throwing subtly out the metophorical window, and stare through the glass. I nearly felt my heart racing, pumping up more blood through my body as I watch the man I love exit from his car. First came his umbrella and a small pout forms on my lips as I couldn't get a good look of his face.

He crosses the backdoor, opening it and pulling out some bags with his free hand before closing it with his knee. Mr. Reed is probably already heading towards the front door but I was already racing down the stairs, egear to greet him like a loyal dog with his owner.

Not to say I am a dog but I'd still throw away my life only for him, kind of like one. The doorbell rings, fighting the urge to squeal I unlocks the door, opens it before almost tackling him to the ground, not caring if part of my clothes got wet while I hug him, "Welcome home" I greets, burying my face into his chest, sucking in the scent of his cologne and relishing in the movements of his beating heart, in one shared moment.

"Yes, yes I'm home," he chuckles, hearing his smooth voice rumbles through his chest as he speaks sent shivers down my spine. Only god knows how much of this man I want, "Can you help me take rest of the groceries in? I would do it but it's kind of hard when you're carrying an umbrella"

***

"What kind of dinner do you want?" He asks with a smile on his face. That wonderful smile that gets me weak every time.

"Anything that comes to mind. You know I'm all that picky Mr.Reed" I say with a dismissve wave. Anything he cooks is amazing because he is amazing.

He sigh, "I told you to call me dad. Not Mr. Reed" my heart nearly cracks when I see that wide eyed smile change into a frown.

I know. It's been years since I escaped that living, breathing hell on earth, but it's complicated at the same time. Mr. Reed knew I had suffered a lot when he first found me. I had bruises on my own body, my long, thick black hair was a filthy, tangled mess. Dirt and increments of blood caked my entire skin and I was dangerously thin. Even my clothes were unfit, the oversized shirt I wore nearly sagged against my shoulders, I couldn't even wear shorts nor pants. They were loose on my small waist and they pooled to the floor whenever I didn't wear a belt.

Without words he knew, and that was probably the reason why he took me in. Because I looked pathetic, a sorry excuse of a normal kid. But years have gone by, everything that I have been through was well behind me, or so I keep telling myself. I should, at the very least, call him father but I could never bring myself to say any those words. It just felt wrong, calling him dad. Because it meant family and I don't think I will ever put my trust into the idea of a family, when the very people that gave birth to me also tormented me in three different ways, physically, mentally, and, on rare occasions, sexually.

Plus it would give me a semblance of hope, that maybe I have a chance to change his mind even though I knew it will never happen. Reminding me of those boundaries will just crush me.. Break me further than I already am. It's stupid of me to think that but I have wishes I want to become reality. Is that really too much to ask?

I look away, messing with the curls of my hair, "I'm sorry," I mumble, fighting the blush from staining my cheeks. Why did things have to be so complicated? Why can't I be normal? Why did I have to fall in love with a man ten years older than me?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

My head is spinning, questions swirling and pivoting in each direction, searching for answers that never existed, "It's alright" I hear the sound of his voice from the thoughts that salvage for my attention. Just then I feel his warm hand on my head, "I just thought it would be nice to be called that you know...?" His words are getting smaller, his voice lowering itself to a soft rumble as my beating heart ever so increase its volume. I can feel my face heating up, the blush slowly creeping back up and making an appearance.

My hands are shaking, my mind fogging up as a wave of dizziness takes over. Oh god, I feel so happy, I can feel the buzz of excitement running through my nerves, but it isn't enough. I always thought it would be though, I kept telling myself that being by his side was enough to get me by but lately.. I'm simply starting to crave more. I want to be his, I want to be admired, adored, I want him to kiss me, touch me, suck me. I don't care, my body is for him to ravish. I am such a greedy person and I blame this on Mr. Reed. The man has spoiled me rotten since the day he took me in. He gave me food, water, a shower, clothes and worst of all attention. The endearing, nurturing type of attention that I misunderstood, that my heart misunderstood.

And by the time I have it all figured out it was too late. Now my heart isn't satisfied, it wants more.

I want more. And I would do anything to sedate my own selfish desires..

"Antonio?" His voice once again brought me back to reality. His green eyes staring down at me, with the kind of intensity that makes my stomach flip, "Are you okay? Do you have a fever?"

I blink, confused, until I finally realize that my face must look redder than a tomatoe, clearing throat I say, "I'm fine" I try to reassure him with a half-assed smiled, but soon I find my eyes drifting from his gaze. I didn't want to look at him. We are so close to each other on the surface, but inside we are so far apart I can barely see him, and it pains me. It hurts me that I can't ascend to something more. Each time I look into his eyes I see nothing but fatherly concern, and it stings me because that's all I'll ever be to him.

His son.

He places his hand on my forehead but I quickly swat it away, "I'm going to the bathroom real quick. I'll be back" I grumble underneath my breath, getting off the stool and racing upstairs without sparing him a glance. Once I am in the bathroom I lock the door after closing it. Leaning against the door frame, I take several deep breaths to calm myself. After I know I am stable I walk to the mirror. Mirrors are something I avoid like the plague, for they brought forth an image of myself I find displeasurable, but tonight I want a look.

I don't know why I do but the urge is there. Maybe because I want to see what Mr. Reed sees in me, or maybe I just need an excuse to laugh and mock myself for acting like an idiot in front of him. Either way I stand face to face with myself. My own reflection staring down at me as I did the same. I can hear the rain boisterously continue its aggressive onslaught, as I sift through the darkness of my eyes. Searching for something..

Anything that Mr. Reed sees in me that I don't. Charm? Cuteness? Is it the black hair I inherited from my father or the dark soulless pits of my onyx eyes? I don't know and honestly I wish I did.

I wish I can read his facial expressions, I wish I can predict his movements, know his likes and dislikes, what makes him tick, what makes him smile, what makes him frown. What makes Mr. Reed who he is because that man knows everything about me in the years I stayed with him than I do.

I don't even know how I left myself vulnerable like a open book for him to read. I have seen things that can make normal people gauge their eyes out. I have seen women sell their bodies in the pouring rain, I have seen men fill bodies of other men with bullet holes until they were unrecognizable bloody pulp. I've seen creeps tried to lure ran away children into abandoned houses in the false hopes of obtaining basic living necessities only to be drugged, unconscious and to never be seen from again.

It confuses me how a man who's well off in his life is so hard to read. Maybe it was because, back then I was just trying to survive. Maybe I was just too self absorbed and thought about what I can do to live to even care about others let alone their problems. Hell, I have seen police officers beat a man to death and I stared upon the sight, helpless and scared out of my wits. Sometimes, on one of those sleepless nights, I couldn't help but wonder if next one screaming for help would be me. I knew how to stay out of trouble, knew when to let things go and not let desperation get the better of me, but I'm not invisible. One day, I just knew I will slip, fall, and if I'm really unlucky, never get back to my feet ever again.

I shudder at the very idea, but living in the streets you have to expect the worst of the worst. And although I was content with living anywhere far from that place, I never expected my life to get any better. Maybe that's why.. a loud roar of thunder cut right through my own thoughts, the automatic light begins to flicker rapidly, as the storm outside makes a significant amount progress. I watch with bated breath as the light wavers for a few short seconds before completely going out.

My breath leaves me. My mouth goes dry as I am envelope in an impenetrable darkness. I fall to my knees, my heart thudding against my chest.

I can't see.. I can't see anything! My eyes dart frantically to find a level of familiarity, something to calm me and my senses down, but there is nothing. Just darkness, unyielding, and blinding.

The rain continues its aggressive onslaught, I can hear it pounding against the rooftops.

Louder..

And louder. Until it is deafening and I have to cover my ears to save the headache blossoming in my skull.

My fingers graze the soft strands of my hair, and the urge to rip off these ebony locks seethe through my veins.

Hate fills my very being. I hate my hair.

I hate my eyes.

I hate my skin complexion.

I hate my accent.

I hate...

"Antonio" a familiar voice echoes from the darkness. Gruff and deep, thick with an accent I grew up hating. Fat, meaty hands clutch my shoulders. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes burns my nostrils, causing knots to form in the pit of my gut.

"Mmm" he would hum, feeling his hands graze my thighs, my stomach then my chest, where I was certain he can sense it beating in between my ribcage. His barely growing beard would scratch my cheek, his lips would be by my ear, where his hot smelly breath would fan against my very flesh when he spoke his usual words, "estará bien sobrino"

It will be alright nephew.

I scream.

I scream and shout until my throat burns and my ears hurt. I thrash about, swatting away the darkness almost violently but the action proved worthless, for the hands race to touch each skin of my body, they broil like fire and every time I push them aside, they disappear but a black stain is all that remains.

Its all that I remain. I try to run, but one of those damn hands grasp onto my ankle, I try to kick but it feels as if I'm hitting air. Just then both hands grasp my wrists, wringing them up and over my head. Grubby fingers tear through my shirt then my pants, every piece of fabric until I'm bare bone naked.

"No no no no NO!" I shake my head, tears falling down my cheeks, but my voice is drowning, growing smaller as malicious laughter rings in the air.

Antonio

What..?

Antonio.. Wake up.. A smoothing tone drifts into my ear.

Who is it? Who is this angel that speaks to me? Am I...? A hand touches my cheek, soft and slender. Its thumb caressing the skin underneath my eyelids in such slow, gentle strokes that a moan bubbles from the back of my throat.

Suddenly a rush of light overwhelms me, the sound of maniacal laughter morphs into agonizing screams, that for once isn't my own, before fading away into the pit of nothingness.

Antonio. It's alright you can wake up now.

I did. I open my eyes and almost instantly a pair of grass green eyes gaze into me. Strands of his red wavy hair frame his perfectly sculpted face, the tip barely touching his lips where a soft smile curls, "Mr. Reed?" I say, quickly regretting ever speaking a word when pain hits my vocal chords.

"It's alright," he comforts me, pulling me into a warm embrace I eagerly welcome. It's only when I shift my body weight to accommodate his own is when I realize the malleableness of the mattress beneath me.

I see.. So I must have passed out and I was sucked into a nightmare. I figure Mr. Reed must have carried me to his bedroom but I wonder how. I must have been thrashing against his grip violently, thinking it was my uncle performing his sick, repulsive fantasies on a child too young, and too frail to fight back. Even more despicable is when that child is his own nephew.

Or was I in one of those catacomb like state? Where I might have been fighting that predator in my mind, but was paralyzed in reality? I don't know and right now I could hardly give a damn. Hearing the calm rhythms of his heartbeat, feeling his legs entangle my own and his hand whisking through my hair is enough to satisfy me. The scent of his cologne takes away the arcid stench of nicotine and booze, the sound of his breathing numbs the raging storm outside, the feel of his touches washes away any dirt stain or black smear that clings onto my skin. And although there was a time I would cry, uncontrolled tears of unaltered joy would coat my cheeks in wet salty trails, now he simply calms me.

Hours seem to have pass by over our heads but I can't tell. The storm has taken out all of the electricity in the house. Reducing us to use candle sticks as a source of light. Sleep is still at a lengthy distance from me while the chaos outside still rages on like an unyielding beast just not ready to die. Time is truly lost on me. I crane my neck to see Mr. Reed sleeping face and...

Oh god

He's more handsome when he's asleep.. His pink lips form into a cute pucker as small snores leave his mouth, his long lashes contrast beautifully against his pale silky skin and a dust of freckles across his face. His chin is subtle, with a little point at the very end, and his cheek bones held a sense of roundness that somehow compliments him better.

My god this is too much for me.. And the fact that the amber glow only enhance his devilishly handsome features makes this whole situation even worse. I can feel myself getting hard at just the sight of him. My cheeks getting warmer and my heart fluttering. This is bad, I have to leave but as soon as desire sweeps over me I know I am at a loss. You can't fight something that has been apart of you throughout your whole life. I have to learn that the hard way in 8th grade. My gaze sets on his jaw. Those seemingly soft and silken lips tempting me to have a taste. I bit my own, my hands rolling in to shaky fists as I lean in closer, licking my dry lips in the process. My eyes drifting close as I control my breathing and heart rate. A light sheen of sweat envelops my face.

So close.. I pucker my lips.

So close.. I can feel my head spinning.

So close.. This isn't real is it?

So.

Damn.

Close.

Mr. Reed stirs and I stop frozen in place. Cheeks growing a whole different shade of red while my eyes open in total anxiousness. But then he rolls around, facing a different direction before settling into a nice comfortable sleep.

By now my face is on fire, shame and embarrassment is the main culprit. I mentally slap myself, what was I even thinking? Kissing an unconscious man in order to sedate these burning desires. It feels as if I am no different then the creeps who whisk children like me into the night, than leering men who leaves a night club with an intoxicated woman in their arms.

I would even go as far as to say... I shake my head, shivering at the thought that temporarily sits in my mind. Quickly I toss in another direction, facing the lonesome candlestick still burning with all its might. I stare at the flame until I feel my eyelids getting heavy. I close them seeing the image of Mr. Reed blissfully asleep.

My chest tightens, my body becoming hot and bothered all over again.

Jesus where the hell is Aiden when I need him?