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Ruiner | One: What You Don't Know, Can't Hurt You

Nico groaned as he woke, writhing slowly in the warm bed, his mind struggling to understand why the clumped sheets were so determined to stick to his furry body. His mouth felt dry and dusty, his stomach in knots. His body's muscles were pulsing slowly, and a bitter acrid taste lingered on his tongue. Had he thrown up? When had that happened? He shuddered, senses coming to him as he clawed his way out of the blurry darkness and into consciousness. He whined slightly as he realised just how sore he was, everywhere. He was physically exhausted to the point where his bones felt hollow, and moving was a challenge, with each stretch or contortion of his limbs sending pins and needles shooting through his joints. Was this what a hangover felt like? How much did he even drink? Although, he supposed for someone whose only experience with alcohol was a single beer or glass of wine with his parents at dinner, any amount could be too much.

Wait. The young otter thought, the flesh on his neck crawling, a sensation like that of a thousand tiny spiders swarming through his fur. He rolled onto his back, wincing from the sharp protesting pains in his legs and tail. He stared at the roof; an unfamiliar ceiling, it was painted a sort of soft brown, and featured several spots of dust clinging to the corners. He tried to rack his brain for any memory of the previous night, a crawling sense of dread overtaking him as he began to realise he had no idea where he was.

He could remember arriving at Liners, that much he was sure of. A large horse had let him inside, after checking his license to ensure that he was of age. That made sense though, as he'd turned twenty only a few weeks ago, and Nico had always had a young face. Liners was a popular gay bar not too far from his home, and after he'd confessed to an online forum that not only had he never been to one, but that he was curious, they'd prompted him to go along. He could remember being so nervous that he was shaking, excited for the night ahead but also worried that someone he knew would see him, thus unveiling his secret. He remembered opening the door, approaching the bar, and then...

"Nothing." He whispered to the ceiling. His stomach churned as his mouth began salivating heavily, and he wondered if he was about to throw up (again?), covering his face with an arm as he cautiously sat up in the bed. The fur at his wrists was matted and clumped, like he'd worn some incredibly tight clothing last night - but that wasn't right, he'd worn a loose hoodie on over a t-shirt, just like he always did. With a slight heave a mouthful of stinging bile forced its way up his throat, Nico swallowed it instinctively, wincing at the foul taste. He began to glance around the room, eyes slowly looking over the various piles of clothing on the floor and the strange posters of bands he'd never heard of hanging on the walls... he didn't recognise any of it.

Did I... what happened? He thought, dread turning to panic in his chest. Why am I naked? He looked down at himself, sheets covering most of his lower half, while his upper body remained exposed. He bit his lip, feeling tears build up in the back of his eyes, unsure yet why. He felt so confused, like he was in a dream. What was wrong? Every olfactory alarm bell he had was ringing, hair standing up, tail twitching, whiskers trembling; something was very wrong, what had happened?

What did I do?! He screamed it inside his head, closing his eyes and clenching his fists, trying not to cry. He began to mentally examine himself, finding a deep ache throbbing up through his lower back and all across his waist. He felt like he'd spent the previous day doing unfamiliar exercise, like his body was worn out... there were the aches and knots in his muscles, the weakness of his legs, the soreness of his buttocks and... Did I? He couldn't even finish the thought, but there was no denying the sharp stinging pain he felt in his ass.

His breaths started coming in short gasps. He had not_gone to Liners with the intention of going home with anybody. The forum had_insisted that it was his choice! He was still a virgin, and he wasn't ready to... not yet... not like... like...

Oh god. He thought, feeling small. Tears finally welled up in his eyes, dripping from under his closed lids and rolling down the fur on his face.

"You're awake!" Nico jumped, yipping slightly, paws going to his chest to try and cover himself. A tiger dressed in tracksuit pants and a dark hoodie - Nico's hoodie - stood at the doorway, a bowl filled with colourful kids' cereal in one paw, a spoon in the other. He bit into a mouthful of sugary biscuits, crunching audibly. "How'd you sleep babe?" Nico wiped at his eyes, mouth opening and closing slowly. He felt himself shut down, he didn't know what to say, he couldn't say anything, he couldn't think or move or do anything.

Who... who is this? He thought distantly, the words barely making any sense to his mind. Babe?

"I wanna go home." Nico muttered, sniffing. The tiger cocked his head.

"Hey, why are you crying? We had fun last night! Do you want something to eat? A shower maybe?" He was grinning, and while his voice wasn't what Nico would describe as malicious, it had an air of nastiness to it.

"F-fun?" He stammered quickly, and the tiger nodded. "Did we... did... did you...?" He just stared. Why couldn't he do anything? It was like one of those nightmares where he would always stumble, unable to escape whatever demonic being was pursuing him.

"I think it's more about what you did pup! Quite the little power bottom, I was surprised, what a fighter." He shrugged, and Nico felt dizzy. "Once you finally loosened up you had fun, c'mon why are you crying?"

"I wanna go." Nico whispered, and the tiger shrugged again, gesturing outside the room.

"Door's there, you want a lift or...?"

"No!" Nico quickly snapped. He looked to the floor, spotting his jeans and shirt. His face was hot, and he felt drenched in filth, as if there was dirt in his fur, under his nails, everywhere. He tried to lean down and retrieve his clothes from the safety of the bed, but was unable to reach them without further exposing himself. More tears welling up, he pulled the sheets back and dashed quickly to his jeans, tugging them on over his naked lower half, not caring that he didn't have his underwear. Out the corner of his vision he saw the tiger roll his eyes. Swaying slightly, his legs providing little more support than jelly might, Nico pulled his shirt on, feeling another stab of revulsion as he realised the top two buttons were missing.

How can I remember nothing at all? He thought, eyes wide as he tried to look anywhere but at that smug tiger. He was feeling sicker and sorer with each passing moment, his guts bubbling inside him painfully.

"Geez Nicky, you gotta relax. You're a lot less fun sober." The tiger said, sighing like a spoiled kitten. "You know you cost me a lot of money, right? G doesn't just grow on fucking trees, and a little gratitude for helping you get off might also be nice." He scowled, and Nico tried to swallow, his throat coarse and rough.

"I... I took drugs?" He wheezed, voice hoarse. He had_no_ memory of that, and... he wouldn't have said yes to drugs from some stranger in a bar? Would he? He felt so stupid for being tricked like this, whatever had happened, he'd lost.

"You really_are_ a lightweight, Christ." The tiger replied. His eyes scoured Nico, looking the cringing otter up and down. Without looking, he dumped the bowl of cereal on a nearby dresser, stepping towards the shaking youth. "Don't be so ungrateful, I bought you drinks, you could've guessed what was in 'em. Look, how about you make it up to me by letting me swallow your--" His paw reached out to Nico's waist but the otter quickly slapped it away, jumping back.

"Don't!" He shrieked, wiping at his eyes again, paws trembling. The tiger's face quickly went sour.

"Well." He snapped. "You can get yourself home now, fucking bitch. I don't know why you're so mad, especially if you can't even remember!" Nico shook his head in disbelief, edging towards the door. He patted his pockets instinctively, feeling relief at the fact he had both his phone and wallet in place. He swiftly left the room, searching the hallway desperately for a way to get outside. "You should be glad I even bothered with such a skinny twink like yourself! Get the _fuck_outta my house!" He heard the tiger call after him, his fingers fumbling clumsily with the lock on the front door.

He stepped outside and slammed it behind himself, panting. He was terrified, shaking, hot and cold all at the same time. His legs felt empty of anything, like his skeleton had melted away.

Worse than that, he felt used; like a cheap tool without any real worth or value, trashy and disposable. He felt both sticky and sweaty at once, his mind simultaneously playing over a hundred imaginary scenarios of what the tiger could have done to him last night. He felt like a slut, both idiotic and cowardly for just letting it all happen like that. He'd heard of date... of drugs that did that to people, but he'd never really thought that it could actually happen to him. He'd believed he was smart enough not to get caught like that, and his face burned with shame at the harsh reality. He was so angry; the fucking forum had said he would have fun! It promised him that it was his decision if he wanted to go home with somebody. And he had decided! He had decided no, and then...

'We had fun last night'. The tiger's words echoed in his head like the afterimage of a dream. It felt so unreal.

He stepped out of the yard, not even knowing which suburb he was in. He pulled out his phone, cursing the 11% battery he had left. Praying it would hold out, he pulled up directions to the nearest train station, freezing the image in his mind as best he could. It was nearly two kilometres away, and the morning air was crisp and lonely. Since most people would be either at work or school the streets were deserted, and as he walked Nico felt more alone than ever. Not only did he have to stop twice during the walk to throw up into the gutter, but each step sent another spike of burning pain running up his legs and ass. It was embarrassing, the dull ache left in his rear, the pain in his neck and back. His mind always circled back to the idea of being used, of being helpless and trapped.

Sitting on the train was just as unpleasant, a pervading sense telling him that every person who so much as looked at him could somehow see what had happened. He tried to cringe away but it seemed to only make the feeling worse. He shivered, wishing he could tear his skin off, go back in time, anything to stop that inescapable sense of guilt that was hounding him. He kept feeling that dread, aches only intensifying as he changed trains to his own line, the bottom of his jeans feeling soiled beneath him; was it just sweat, or blood, or something else? He was too frightened to even consider those other options, telling himself it was nothing. His phone was dead now, and he had nothing but the pain to keep company. It was hard not to cry again, but any time he suspected the tears were pushing their way out, he would bite hard into his arm - that stopped it, at least for now.

An hour and a half after leaving the tiger's house, he finally ended up in front of his own, growling slightly at the locked door, paws hopelessly searching his pockets.

"Damn it." He cursed, not finding it.

Where is it, where is it? His breathing got heavy and he panicked again, starting to sob. He let his head fall against the door, crying into his paws, grateful nobody was home.

Eventually he composed himself, heading around the back of the house and using the spare key. His parents would now expect him to pay for all the locks to be changed; since he'd lost the key, their logic was that anyone could have it, and they wanted to be secure. It apparently didn't matter that anyone who found a lone key couldn't even know that it belonged to that house.

When inside he quickly pulled his stained clothes off, climbing into the shower and turning it up as hot as he could stand. He let it run over him, scrubbing and scrubbing at himself so hard the skin beneath his fur started to go raw and chafe. He winced as he rubbed carefully between his buttocks, feeling the dried blood come loose, pinkish tinged water swirling around the drain hypnotically, before being sucked away. As Nico watched it he couldn't help wish the drain would swallow him the same way it did the filth. He examined different parts of himself, finding the beginnings of bruises on his wrists and neck, and more than a few on his thighs. He then felt the burning tears again, sitting down and leaning back against the tiled wall, rocking slightly as the shower washed them away.

He only got out once the water had gone cold, a good fifty minutes after he'd first gotten in. He dressed in fresh clothes, throwing the old 'soiled' ones in the bin outside, hiding them beneath the other trash. Then he walked to his bed and fell down, eyes drifting shut as he fell asleep.

He woke to the sound of family heaven knows how many hours later. His mother was giving instructions of some kind to his father, who was currently in the process of making dinner, while his younger brother probably worked on his homework or something.

"Where's Nico? Is he hiding somewhere or is he actually out again?" His father's voice, probably aimed at his brother Levi.

"I think he's asleep in his room." The sixteen-year-old replied. Nico sighed, pulling himself up, wincing slightly at the pain as he stood, stretching.

"Nico honey?" His mother didn't knock, opening the door and sticking her head inside. "Ah so you are up."

"Yeah mum, I'm here." He replied, rubbing at his eyes.

"Come out and set the table, or do I have to do everything myself?" She scoffed, vanishing as quickly as she'd come. Nico sighed again, slowly following her out. He nodded to his father and brother as he pulled open the cutlery drawer, pulling out a knife and fork for each of them, every action feeling extremely surreal. He felt like a shadow, not quite present and not quite solid. It seemed ludicrous, after what happened, to just be setting the table, like it a normal day.

"How was your movie buddy?" Nico's father asked, as the otter began placing the cutlery neatly around the table. Nico paused, biting his lip. He'd told his parents he was going to a movie with some friends, and that he would probably stay with them that night, but he couldn't remember at all what he'd even said he was watching.

"It was... it was good." He muttered awkwardly, dropping a knife and quickly picking it up. Thankfully, his mother swept into the room then, quickly interrupting.

"I tell you what was good, that new program we watched the other night, it was called... oh, what was it, I think there was magic or...? Anyway, it was brilliant." Nico let his chest deflate, scurrying away to find glasses and plates.

"You mean The Stable Thief?" Levi asked, glancing up from his homework book.

"No..." Vanessa said airily, pouring herself a glass of wine. "Thomas, you want a glass?" She proffered an empty glass to her husband, who simply shook his head. She shrugged, sipping her own. "It was the really violent one. I didn't like all the blood but everything else was good."

"That is The Stable Thief!" Levi exclaimed, earning a rough look for his mother.

"You don't know which one I mean Levi, so just sit yourself down. Whatever it was called, it was fantastic." The teenager grumbled slightly to himself, sticking his head further down into the book as he worked. "Nico honey do you want a glass? I always forget you're big now." She giggled, holding up an empty glass towards the cringing otter. He shook his head, holding up a paw.

"I'm... good mum, thank you." He said quietly, stomach heaving at even the thought of alcohol right now.

"Geez, you try to be nice around here..." His mother nattered, staring at her own drink, sipping carefully.

"Are you feelin' alright there Neeks?" Thomas asked, his face cocked upwards at his son. "You're a little pale." Nico shrugged, stammering over his words as he struggled to come up with some excuse.

No I'm good Dad, except I was just ra... I was... I was... His mind stopped turning and he just stared at the elder otter, mouth hanging open lamely.

"I juusssst..." He started, glancing nervously around, dragging the word out and trying to resist the urge to rub the growing bruise on his wrist. "Didn't get enough sleep, s'all." He laughed half-heartedly, and his father nodded as if that was an acceptable answer.

"How many of you were there last night?" Thomas asked, eyes back on the food he was making, which seemed nearly ready. "Did anything crazy happen?" Nico shrugged.

"Like, five or six of us? No, it was very relaxed. We had fun." He said meekly. The lying made him incredibly uncomfortable, but it was a far better option than telling his parents he'd been at a gay bar.

"Mhmm. Drinking?" His mother chimed in. "If I remember correctly, you said you'd text us if you were going to stay out overnight. I was worried sick, you kept me up late last night! Did you even check your phone Nicky?" Nico's breath caught in his throat, he realised that he hadn't even bothered to charge it since he got home.

"It... died. Sorry Mum." He said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. It caused a short flare of pain to start up in his shoulder, and he tried to hide the subsequent wincing. "I ended up at Jamie's."

"Oh yes, good. He's a lovely boy." She said, sipping the wine. "I don't mind, but you could at least let your mother know you aren't coming home. It's all I ask, and frankly I don't think it's a lot. Otherwise I don't why we even got you that thing."

"Okay." He mumbled, trying to flatten himself against the wall he was leaning on.

"Vanessa." Thomas said gently. "Food's ready guys, bring plates, Levi - work away. Yes, okay... did you put out the water Nico? Yeah I know." The family all helped themselves to a plate of food, finding their seats and sitting neatly at the table. None of them had begun eating yet, patiently waiting.

"Levi, I think you're capable." Vanessa said tersely. Nico normally didn't mind this part, he thought it was nice. But today it made him feel even fouler, he felt watched, like there was a massive weight on his back, pinning him down against the earth. He wanted to shrink beneath his chair as Levi spoke.

It was the reason he couldn't say where he'd gone, or what had happened; they made it very clear that their beliefs came before their children. Nico wasn't out, and at least while he lived at home - he never could be.

"Father, we have gathered to share a meal in Your honour." The teenage otter began, his head bowed, eyes closed. "Thank You for putting us together as family, and thank You for this food. Bless it, Lord. We thank you for all of the gifts you've given to those around this table."

Nico felt sick.