This Cold and Bitter Season

This Cold and Bitter Season

Status: Finished

Genre: Gay and Lesbian


Status: Finished

Genre: Gay and Lesbian


Dylan joined his german foster parents at the age of 12 after years of struggling between homes. His past was very complicated and painful to think about. Little did he know his future was about to get much more complicated when his foster brother appears at their doorstep one day. He was about to form a bond that he never thought possible in his life.


Dylan joined his german foster parents at the age of 12 after years of struggling between homes. His past was very complicated and painful to think about. Little did he know his future was about to get much more complicated when his foster brother appears at their doorstep one day. He was about to form a bond that he never thought possible in his life.

Chapter1 (v.1) - (March)

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: April 14, 2012

Reads: 1240

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: April 14, 2012



I sat at the kitchen table, Abby in the chair beside me, staring at my hands. It was Saturday, thank God. I didn't have to go to god damned school until Monday. If I was lucky, maybe Tuesday. I hadn't been to a full week of school in about two months. I was seriously surprised that we hadn't been fined yet. I didn't think that would be fair, though, because for all they knew, I had serious health problems! Besides, what ninth grade student would even want to go to school? I had better things to do. Like skate... and sleep.

I looked up to see Claudia enter the kitchen, her blonde hair tied back in a messy pony tail. She looked over at me and grinned slightly. "Dylan," She suddenly said and turned towards the counters to wash dishes or something. "Could you run into town and get me some Motrin or something of that sort? We seemed to have run out."

"Uh, sure," I replied, not sure why she wouldn't just do it herself. After all, she had a car. Maybe she thought I needed to get out more or something.

"Thank you, dear. I have the worst headache!" She sighed and walked out of the kitchen. I exchanged looks with Abby and she shrugged, going back to her coloring book. I yawned lightly and stood up to follow my foster mother. She was soon standing in front of me, money in her hands. "Here you go," She said.

"Alright. I'll go now, I guess," I said indifferently.

"Thank you, sweetheart," She said and lightly kissed the top of my head. I grinned and nodded before walking past her to go put my shoes on. I shoved the money into my pocket and slipped my shoes on before grabbing my skateboard. No fucking way was I walking...

I exited the house and walked down our steps onto the path leading to the road. I glanced around for cars quickly before skating towards town. It didn't take long, since our house wasn't very far out of town. Some would even still consider us part of it.

I went to do a grind on the curb at the first sidewalk I came to, and of course, I fucked it up in some way and ended up on the ground. "Fuck!" I hissed and sat up, glancing around to see two old women sitting the porch of a house a few feet down the street from me. I sighed deeply, feeling stupid, and stood up after a few more seconds of letting the shock of the fall wear off, realizing that I could be hit by a car any second. I jogged over to my board, which had gone pretty far and picked it up before walking.

I soon got tired of walking and decided to try my luck with skating again. I was quite fortunate that I hadn't run into anyone that I knew from school on the way to the shitty little gas station I stopped at. They all hated me. I wasn't really too sure why... I never really said anything to make anyone hate me. Well, at first I didn't.

I let my skateboard lay outside while I walked in and quickly to the back aisle where they kept medicines of sorts. I glanced around quickly before spotting the orange and white box that Motrin came in. I sniffed and picked it up before walking back to the cash register. I waited in the line of two people and looked at the rows of cigarettes behind the cashier. They would fucking last at least a year for most people... I coughed and shook my head, trying not to look at them.

At last, my turn came up. The cashier was a young black man with acne scars along the side of his face. He gave me a fake smile, so I did the same in return, and he rung my item up. I gave him the money and waited for my change. I realized quickly that I was glad that I wasn't him. I hated the way acne scars looked and I was blessed, if you will, enough to not have any on my face or body. I had other scars, but not acne scars.

I slipped my change into my pocket and looked at the box a moment before walking out of the gas station. I looked at the box again for a short moment before tearing it open and taking out the little bottle of pills. I shoved them in my pocket as well and threw the trash out in a trash can near me. I cleared my throat and was about to get my skateboard and leave when something caught my eye. A cigarette short... But it wasn't a very short ‘short’... Actually, there was a little more than half left. I frowned and turned away, trying to resist temptation.

I'd given up smoking a few months earlier, and I wasn't trying to start again. I picked up my board and looked at the slowly burning cigarette again. I sighed loudly into the air and shook my head. Fuck it! What was one cigarette gonna go? I walked over and picked it up, not even caring about the filth that it held. I took a quick drag before beginning to walk away. I immediately got a head rush. It had been so long, my body was no longer used to the nicotine and tobacco.

I walked until I finished the cigarette. I took one last, tiny drag, as much as I could before I would start smoking the filter, and flicked it into the street. I blew out slowly and began to skate. I decided it would be best if I didn't try to do any tricks, because I already had a scrape on my elbow. I really sucked at skating...

I hated the ride back to my home because it was all slightly uphill. It was a pain in the ass to skate to. By the time I got back, I was sweating. I could feel my shirt sticking to my back. It wasn't even very hot out. I jumped off my skateboard and let it roll into the yard as I ran up the steps and through the front door.

I walked into the kitchen immediately to find Claudia sitting at the table with Abby, reading a magazine. I pulled out the change and pills, and then set them down on the table.

"Thank you, Dylan! You may keep the change if you like," She told me with a grateful smile before standing. That surprised me.

"Oh. Thanks," I said with a grin. She nodded and went to get a glass of water. I groaned slightly and walked out of the room towards the stairs. I ran up them and quickly went into my room. I took my shirt off and threw it into one of my piles of dirty wash. I decided against putting another shirt on, though it would expose the scars running on my back. I was quite self conscious of them.

I ran my fingers through my hair before leaving the room and heading back downstairs. I skipped the last three steps and landed quite incorrectly on my foot. "Ah! Shit!" I cursed, and immediately regretted it. Maybe no one would hear it through the loud bang of my weight connecting with the floor.

"Dylan!" I was mistaken... "Do not use that language!" Claudia scolded.

"Sorry!" I apologized and rubbed my foot. "Damn...," I muttered and stepped down on it. It was pulsing uncomfortably, but nothing I couldn't handle. I walked into the living room and sighed before laying down on the couch heavily. I was tired despite the time of day.

I loved living in the Riedel house. Everything was so simple. Everything was so carefree. The only problem I had with it would be Deron, my foster dad, but he kept to himself most of the time. There were the occasional times he and I would get into an argument, though. He didn't seem to like me very much, he seemed kind of bitter towards me... like I'd taken something from him. But, despite all that, I loved it there. I truly felt at home for the first time. It was so stress free.

Until Zach Riedel showed up...

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was around three in the afternoon, I was sitting in the kitchen at the table, doing nothing in particular but staring out the window at some birds. There was a knock at the door and I glanced at the archway, though I could not see. Claudia's footsteps lead to the door and she eventually opened it. "Zach!" She gasped, sounding completely surprised. I frowned, immediately interested. "What are you doing here?" She then asked. I couldn't make out what he'd said. "Well come in dear, I will make you something to eat."

They both entered the kitchen, Zach behind Claudia. I'd never met their son before. I'd heard plenty of stories, and seen a few pictures, but never actually met him. I was nervous, surprisingly, so much that I could feel my heart beating in my chest. "Zach, this is Dylan!" Claudia introduced us kindly. He put his hand up indifferently, a fake grin on his face.

"Hello." He had a surprisingly strong German accent, and his voice was rather deep. I nodded in return and stared at my hands. I felt self conscious, and it was strange. I regretted not putting a shirt back on when I'd taken mine off earlier that day. Zach was wearing tight, black pants with streaks of grey stains on the thighs and a white Last Resort t-shirt. His hair was a bit odd. It was like a short Mohawk, but in the back, his hair length of the same as the sides of the rest of his hair. The longer part lightly fell across one of his eyes. I noticed that the Mohawk part was dyed black, and the rest of his hair was brown. He must have dyed it a while before he got there.

I couldn't help but look at him. He certainly drew attention. But I wouldn't say it was because of his tattoos or the ring he had in his nose, or even the way he dressed. I would have to say it was more because of the way he presented himself. He seemed purely arrogant. The way he looked at me, it seemed kind of like he wanted to spit on me and say ‘I'm the fucking superior around here, you little shit!’ I didn't really feel permitted to look at him, and yet I couldn't keep my eyes off of him.

"Sit, sit!" Claudia ordered and gently pushed Zach into a chair. When he was closer, I could see the resemblance between him and his father. Their facial structure was the same, their height was the same, almost everything was. Deron's voice was a little deeper than Zach's, but that was about the only major difference I could point out. I also noticed that he looked extremely worn out. He had shadows beneath his eyes, and he seemed tired. But even from just knowing him for the few minutes I had, I knew he wouldn't easily show it.

Zach shifted and grabbed a greenish hat that reminded me of mint out of his back pocket. He ran his fingers through his hair so that it stuck back before slipping the hat on and pulling it down.

"Now what would you like to eat?" Claudia asked, still seeming a bit excited. I could tell there was something behind her voice. I think she was a bit distraught.

"Nothing, Mutter," He replied, seeming much more unhappy now. She turned and frowned at her son. He sighed loudly and rubbed his forehead. "This is such bullshit...," He mumbled.

"Zachary!" Claudia sounded stern. She pulled out a seat across from him and sat down before talking again. "You knew this was going to happen! Even if you had not lost your job, you would not know a steady income if it bit you in the ass!" He rolled his eyes again and shook his head. "Why- what happened that even caused you to lose your job? Your job at Taco Bell?" I almost laughed, and Zach snorted with angry laughter.

"I do not know! Maybe I did not show up too many times. Maybe the bitch boss lady did not like me. I do not know!" He said angrily. Claudia shook her head, seeming horribly disappointed.

"You... You amaze me, Zachary." She seemed like she didn't know what to say about him. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, sending such angry energy into the room I kind of wanted to leave. Claudia opened her mouth to speak, but Zach interrupted.

"Yes, Mutter, I understand!" He snapped and rubbed his eyes. "Is it- possible... that Kara stay over here some of the nights?" He asked, removing his hands from his face to look at his mom. She stared at him incredulously.

"Zachary, come off it!" She growled. "Did I even say that you could stay?" She asked, sounding very pissed off. A sudden look of panic swept over his arrogant face.

"What!? You will not let me!?" He asked, his eyes wide. They were a little darker than Deron's, I took notice. Claudia shook her head again with a deep sigh.

"I should not even let you after the way you took off...," She mumbled and frowned, seeming to think for a moment. Zach was staring at her intently the whole time. "Well, I suppose you could take the room across from Abby's old room..." He smiled slightly and his cocky expression seemed to return.

"Thank you, Mutter." He began to stand.

"I am so angry with you, Zachary! I hope you understand that! You will not be so grateful when your Vater comes home, I can tell you that much...," Claudia said angrily. I noticed Zach look very disgusted when she mentioned Deron, and he sat back down. "I have a question, dear. What ever happened to your roommate?"

"Ach...," Zach began and rubbed the back of his neck. "He-uh-... He is... kind of... busy." She frowned, obviously not understanding.

"What?" She asked. I was confused as well.

"He is in prison at the moment," Zach stated bluntly. She stared at her son and sighed, shaking her head.

"Ach, what have I raised?" She muttered before turning away to go back to the sink. That's when he stood up and quietly left the kitchen, heading back outside, probably to retrieve some of his items. I sighed and looked at my hands, my stomach dropping at the thought of living with him until I was old enough to move, or he had enough money to move.

But I learned one thing from that day.

I. Did. Not. Like. Zach.

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