Title: The Scented Gardens of the Blind. (1)
Author: Bernie
Pairing: Pavel Bure / Valeri Bure
Rating: NC-17 (the whole thing)
Dedication. Chrissy, what have you asked for you have
received.
Disclaimer. This is all made up.
A/NÕs. Incest, child abuse, alcohol abuse, underage sex.
Toronto. Adulthood.
It is dark when he enters the room. That means Pavel is
already here. Valeri closes and locks the door. In the dark they touch, in the
dark they kiss, in the dark they come together. It is a clean fresh smelling
room, and there is a beautiful boy who smells of soap.
They were both boys when it began.
Russia. Childhood.
ÒPavel!Ó The boyÕs fatherÕs roar can probably be heard on
the street. And although it is the man who slaps Pavel so hard that he is dazed
and sees stars in front of his eyes like a Disney cartoon, it is the woman who
puts her hands around his thin neck and squeezes. The adults are both very sure
they love the boy and wish only to show him the error of his ways.
IsnÕt it amazing, that you have to have a licence to have a
dog and consenting adults are allowed to breed wily-nily? Some people should
not be allowed to have children. Some people should be sterilised, or maybe
drowned at birth. Although that is unfair. If that man and that woman werenÕt
allowed their drunken couplings then Pavel would never have been born.
And how unfair would that have been to Valeri? To be all
alone with the two of them. No, Pavel needed to be there, it is not the same
story without his presence.
Pavel is squeezed between the bed and the wall under the
window. When both the boys were very small they would sit on the bed together
and imagine what was beyond the glass. Their flights of fancy were not terribly
unique; warmth, love, pets, possibly another sibling. They are now old enough
to see out the window if they so choose, although both would agree that there
is little point, after all what is there to see? More apartments like this one.
Some smaller, some happier, most similar, they drink a lot here. Drink and wait
and fight and ponder the universe. This has become a country suffering from a
lack of imagination. Shameful when you consider what writers and poets were
bred from this soil.
Valerie sits beside Pavel. He does not touch him, but he
makes sure that his parents canÕt see even a tuft of his hair sticking up from
behind the bed. Sometimes it is better to be invisible. Pavel has to scrunch
down really far to achieve the same thing.
They have their backs against the wall, their knees pulled
up to their chests. Pavel has his head down in his folded arms because he does
not what Valeri to see his face. Not the tears, people cry, but the promise of
a purple bloom under his eye. He isnÕt crying anymore anyway, his shoulders
have stopped shaking.
It took Valeri a while to find his brother. Pavel was not in
any of the typical places, not under the stairs in the coat cupboard, not
hiding between the pantry wall and the door to the washhouse.
Without saying anything Pavel leans over so he is pressed
against Valeri. The room is cold. One side of Pavel freezes; one side burns.
Valeri is the same, but the opposite.
ÒYou should have let Mama and Papa find out that it was me.Ó
ValeriÕs voice is soft and non-accusatory. Pavel takes his
role as protective brother seriously.
ÒI couldnÕt let them do this to you Valya.Ó
Pavel finally turns to his brother; the promise of a bruise
has been fulfilled already in the five lines around his neck. The throat of a
boy is small enough for a grown woman to get her hand almost all the way
around.
ÒBesides, they didnÕt even know what they were doing it for.
ItÕs justÉÓ Pavel shrugs, Òits just Friday.Ó
Valerie helplessly touches the marks, Òmaybe if I got some
iceÉÓ
PavelÕs voice cuts across his.
ÒNo, Valya, we should stay here, theyÕll fade, IÕll wear a
high neck shirt and no one will see.Ó
ÒYou let them hurt you to save me, why canÕt I let then hurt
me to save you?Ó Valeri asks even though he knows Pavel will ignore the
question.
Pavel gives his brother the type of affectionate tolerant
smile you give the young and frail. Although he is not so strong as he thinks,
not so sturdy himself. There are cracked ribs nestled dangerously close to his
heart and lungs, fortunately the hockey both boys play is non-contact so far, or
there could be problems.
ÒBecause I need you to kiss it better.Ó
The two boys rearrange themselves on the floor behind the
bed. They are now facing each other, sitting cross-legged under the window.
Pavel closes his eyes and feels his ValyaÕs mouth on him. Tracing the marks
across his neck, Valya is careful to kiss every bruised inch of skin on PavelÕs
throat. He rubs his cheek against the indigo flower on PavelÕs jaw from the
week before (weekly pay cheques, weekly trips to the liquor store, as Pavel said,
Ôit is FridayÕ) and kisses softly under PavelÕs eye. He holds his brother face
in his hands, wipes away with his thumbs the tears that are still clinging to
the fair, blemished skin.
These gestures mirror actions the brothers will perform many
years in the future. But this is the start. This is just comfort.
DonÕt suppose that you can understand how these two think.
They are the same person in their minds. They feel blessed to share love,
passion and blood. And by what criteria do we decide soul mates anyway? Valeri
pulls his older brother down into his arms and Pavel rests his head on his
younger brothers shoulder.
They were still boys, but older than this, when it truly
began. part
two
