Give Me Grace - Ch. 1
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tags: Rhett Abbott x transmasc oc. Talk of religion, struggle with faith and coming to terms with sexuality. author's note: I know OCs aren't popular around here, but I put my whole heart into this, so please just give it a chance ❤️ Thanks to @enyalius for beta reading. Updates every Friday. | Check out my kofi
It’s too hot in Wabang for the time of year, but there’s a cool breeze rustling through the grass and giving them some reprieve, even though Perry is still sweating through his t-shirt. They’re fixing the fences for the millionth time, except that Perry is busy swinging the hammer and Rhett is a million miles away, staring into the horizon.
Part of Rhett is still here; he can hear Perry’s excessive ramblings about worrying for Amy, and he can hear the dull whack of the hammer hitting the fence post over and over, but he’s not really listening, and he’s not even holding the post like he’s supposed to be.
“Helloooo, earth to Rhett…” Perry stops and stands up, waving his hand in front of Rhett’s face. “Where the hell are you, man? You’re not even listening, and you’re also not doing your job.” He nods toward the fence. “I wanna get this done before dinnertime.”
Rhett’s eyes clear up and return to the present, but he’s still chewing on the inside of his cheek, and he can’t meet Perry’s eyes. “I gotta tell you somethin’,” He mutters, eyes on the post rather than looking at his brother.
“What is it?” Perry asks, lifting the hammer back up and bringing it down against the post one more time.
Rhett’s chest heaves with the deep breath he takes, clenching his jaw before he speaks. “I think m’queer,” He mutters out, low, like if he speaks at a normal volume, the rest of his family will hear him all the way across the pasture and back at their house.
Perry makes the mistake of not giving Rhett his full attention, and the words that come out of his brother’s mouth make his head snap up just as he’s bringing the hammer down again. “Ah shit, fuck, god dammit,” The hammer comes down and clips the edge of his thumb before it falls into the grass and Perry brings his hand up and yanks the glove off to bring the throbbing edge of his thumb to his mouth as if he can suck the pain out. “So, we’re back on this again?” He asks once the stinging pain has dulled.
“Again? The fuck are you talkin’ about Per?”
“You already told me about this, don’t you remember? When you were like thirteen, you came home crying about how you were going to hell ‘cuz you had some sort of sinful thoughts about a boy in your class.”
Rhett’s eyebrows are still knitted together, but there’s a pounding in his chest— he remembers.
***
Rhett and Perry always get home before their parents. The school bus that goes out into the country drops them off a good thirty minutes before Royal gets back from bull auctions in town and Cecilia gets back from her work with the church.
Normally, they walk up the dirt road and to the house together, Perry tasked with looking after his younger brother. Today, though, Rhett couldn’t get away from everyone fast enough, running up the dirt road as fast as his still-growing legs would take him. He can hear Perry calling after him, but he doesn’t stop, and he doesn’t look back, even as the screen door to their house slams behind him, he just runs up the stairs to his bedroom and collapses on his twin bed.
He’s crying, his cheeks are wet, and his nose is starting to run, but it only makes him angry. He’s too old to cry now, Royal tells him so. He’s becoming a man, so unless bone is sticking out of skin, tears are prohibited, and even then, it depends on what kind of mood his dad is in.
Perry doesn’t knock before he comes in; he never does, but Rhett doesn’t yell at him this time, he’s too busy trying to stop the tears. “What’s the matter?” Perry asks, almost sitting down on the edge of the bed, but he hesitates. Rhett’s long limbs are taking up too much room now; they wouldn’t fit together like they used to, maybe he should ask his mom to ask his dad to buy Rhett a bigger bed.
“Nothing, go away,” Rhett huffs, sniffling pathetically.
“I’m not going away, it’s my job to look after you, and you better stop crying before Dad gets home. If you tell me what it is, I can fix it, and you’ll stop.”
“You can’t fix it, Perry, you can’t, no one can.” He’s still sniffing, but at least he’s sitting up and looking at Perry now, eyes shiny with tears.
“You won’t know that until you tell me what it is,” Perry argues.
Rhett wipes at his eyes again and looks at his brother. He can’t see his own face, but he knows he looks as terrified as he feels. He still follows his mom to church every Sunday, and he isn’t brave enough yet to question the scripture that the pastor recites. He’s not brave enough to ask his mom what things mean.
He feels it every single time he sits in the uncomfortable wooden pews and looks up at the altar. A tightness in his chest and an itching of his palms. It feels wrong to be here, but he doesn’t know why. The entire room is always filled with a judgment that isn’t his, and yet it choked him all the same. Riding bulls felt like nothing compared to a thirteen-year-old boy questioning the church. “I’m going to hell, Perry,” He whispers.
Perry’s own teenage face, that hasn’t been sullen by parenthood or the disappearance of his wife yet, crumples at his brother's words. “Why would you say that? You haven’t done anything worth going to hell for.”
“I have…” Rhett nods, eyes filling up with tears again. “There’s this new boy in my class, I wanted—” He starts, interrupted by a choked-off sob. “I thought he was pretty and I wanted to kiss him, Perry,”
“No, you didn’t,” Perry responds without missing a beat.
“I didn’t?”
“No way. It's just all those new hormones in your body wreaking havoc. You ain’t going to hell cuz you ain’t queer, it’s not real.” The front door squeaks open loudly, and both boys' heads whip over toward Rhett’s open bedroom door. It was either a bad sale day or a good sale day because their dad is home early, and suddenly Perry doesn’t have all the time in the world to make Rhett see that his feelings toward this boy were nothing more than a blip that he can just forget. They can just stop this right here, and neither of them would go to hell or get in trouble, as long as it stops before someone sees or hears them.
“Say it,” Perry growls out, hard and demanding, gripping Rhett’s wrist tight enough to bruise.
“I ain’t going to hell, I ain’t queer, s’not real.” Rhett recites, punctuating each part with an obedient nod, committing the words to memory, even as he tries to yank his wrist away.
Royal’s heavy steps clomp up the stairs, and he stops outside Rhett’s door, looking over both his boys, eyes moving more slowly over Rhett’s wet, red face. “You cryin’?”
“Uh-uh,” Rhett shakes his head quickly, and Perry turns to face their dad.
“No, he just fell off the bus and face planted into the dirt, that’s all,” And since when could Perry just lie like that?
Their dad’s sigh comes out wearily. “How many times I gotta tell you to look after your brother? What kind of man are you if you can’t even make sure he stays on his feet?” Royal shakes his head at the older brother, “Fuckin’ useless.” He mutters, walking down the hall and clicking his own bedroom door shut.
Perry feels his heart sink into his stomach. He’s not useless; he’s the one who’s saving his little brother from a life of condemnation, his dad just doesn’t know it. Can never know it. It’s times like these that he would ask his mom what to do. He knows that she would know exactly what God would say in any situation. Except that what God would say about this particular situation is the reason he can’t talk to her about it. No, this has to stay between them. It’s going to be Rhett and Perry, just as it always has been— it always will be.
——
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