Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Post Up...And One! ❯ The Hand That Feeds ( Chapter 12 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Manga-Chick 
She's goin' back to Reno, yes she is... and is Jay truly that innocent?
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Drama / Comedy | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.11.2007 | Pages: 7 | Words: 7.9K | Visits: 200 | Status: Completed
She's goin' back to Reno, yes she is... and is Jay truly that innocent?
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Drama / Comedy | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.11.2007 | Pages: 7 | Words: 7.9K | Visits: 200 | Status: Completed
Chapter Twelve:
“The Hand That Feeds” Nine Inch Nails
Jay was the type of young man that thought rationally and, oftentimes, clearly. But when he opened Justin’s door that night, revealing a very flushed Quatre and a small spiderplant, he felt himself grow more than insecure and annoyed.
“Is J here?” Quatre asked, cradling George close to him.
Jay adjusted his glasses, and nodded, almost glumly as he widened the door and stepped aside. Justin came out from the back, looked slightly embarrassed at being caught shirtless and with a minor in his place, and then gave him a curious look.
“You won’t believe what just happened to me,” Quatre declared, slapping George down onto the coffee table.
“What the fuck is that?” Justin asked, eyeing the plant undecidedly.
“His name’s George, motherfucker. Treat him with respect!”
“‘George’?...the fuck? Q, you’re seriously unhinged.”
“No, what’s fucking unhinged is the fact that I’ve got two guys at my place, kicking the shit out of each other!” Quatre declared, checking George’s delicate leaves. Satisfied that he was okay, he frowned at his friend. “You’ve got a beer gut.”
“Tell me about it. All I do is drink, lately,” Justin admitted on a sigh, rubbing aforementioned gut. Quatre chuckled, and reached out, flicking one nipple. “Cut it out. Respect the manliness...”
“All I see are man boobs, sucka...”
“Don’t be all jealous...You had the same form one summer back.”
“Ah...”
“So, who’re the guys? I didn’t think you were such a priceless commodity,” Justin said with a chuckle, leering at him. Quatre sent a lazy kick in his direction, grinning.
“I’m the bomb, man. All the guys want me. No...guess who it is?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know, man. Cut out the girl games.”
“Trowa. And...uh, Jake Trip.”
“That sucka that played for Stanton? Why you all cozy with him, man? He ain’t gay.”
“He’s hot,” Quatre said, frowning at him. “And I respect and admire him. One day, when I’m all growed up and manly, I aspire to be like him.”
Justin gave him a sneer and a chuckle. “You’re a fag, man. Fag. You eat yet?”
“Nah. I’m not hungry.” Quatre glanced back at Jay, who was watching them both, a slightly sullen expression on his face. Blinking, Quatre looked back at Justin, and hissed, “Isn’t it past his bedtime?”
Justin scowled at him, reddening slightly. He looked at Jay, and gestured with a thumb at the back bedroom. Jay looked ready to argue, but Justin merely gave him a glare, and the fifteen year old rose from the couch, and walked back there. Quatre snickered, and then laughed out right at the situation presented before him.
“You act like he’s your dog, or something...”
“Seriously? I met the guy at this party. Tiny little kid. Been tagging along with me all this fuckin’ time. I keep tellin’ him I ain’t into him–age an’ all, but the little fucker just tags along. Can’t get rid of him.”
“Whatever. You’re all loved up by him.”
“I am not. Shut the fuck up.”
“You are! He’s all cute and tidy...perfect little gay boy for the guy with another entity in his pants.”
“Shut up! God...anyway, what the hell brings you out here?”
“Dude...I just fuckin’ told you I have two guys fighting at my place, and I didn’t want to be all...damsel in distress. You know?”
“Fuck that...”
“I know, so I left. And I didn’t have anywhere else to go. And I didn’t want to spend money on a room.”
“Where’s Leash?”
“Out with her psycho friend. I really don’t get Yoshida.”
“No one does. She dropped out of military cuz she’s all mental an’ shit. Has some sort of mind powers. I dunno. So...why those fools fighting over you? Can’t you do both?”
Quatre whacked him in the gut, Justin grunting. He retaliated with a punch in Quatre’s shoulder, and the two briefly punched at each other. When they separated, Quatre took a seat on the couch, sighing. Justin made a detour into the kitchen, and took out a beer, and a soda. He tossed Quatre the soda, and began on the beer.
“So...why did you turn all alkie?”
“Dunno...Just like to drink, I guess. Keeps me sane. My job fuckin’ sucks, man.”
“You going to school?”
“Part-time. Remember? Dude, I told you that.”
“I never see you.”
“Cuz I don’t go to NPU! I’m over at NP Tech!”
“Oh, oh...sheesh.”
“So...what’s the thing with you and...those guys?”
“I...I don’t know. Those two don’t like each other. They’re always saying something. Then Trowa, like, ran his mouth, and Jake punched him. He don’t like it when his kid’s brought up by other people. I don’t know. I couldn’t stop them. I felt all dumb about it. Like a fuckin’ girl. When they’re done...I don’t know. Think I’ll take them aside and kick both their asses for making me feel that way.”
“Why don’t Trowa like him?”
“He...I don’t know. I kinda get the impression that he feels threatened by Jake. I don’t know why. Jake’s straight.” Quatre sighed forlornly at that, rubbing the back of his neck. He realized he was still in his work uniform, and frowned at his untucked shirt, and for the fact that he hadn’t yet buckled his belt.
“You like him?”
“I told you. He’s hot.”
“You didn’t that one time.”
“He changed. And...I don’t know. He’s...getting to know him? Just made me...like him. I like the way he interacts with his kid. And the way he handles a lot of things.”
Justin chuckled, finishing off his beer. “Whatever, you big girl.”
“I can’t tell him this! He’d run off.”
“So...you’re crushin’ on him?”
“Yeah...and Trowa...? I don’t know. In a way, I still have feelings for him.”
“I don’t know why.”
“I don’t know, either. He fucks around on whomever he’s with...especially with his girl.”
“With who?”
“Uh...me.”
“Idiot,” Justin said, giving him a frown. “You brought that shit on yourself. Don’t expect me to pity you, or anything.”
“Yeah...I know.”
“Shit! Why the fuck you’re gonna do that sort of thing, anyway? You know how stupid it is!”
“When you have history with someone, J, you’re not going to lose interest in him the more you hang around him!”
“Then stop it!”
“I can’t!” Quatre declared. He frowned, leaning his chin onto his palm. “I can’t...it’s like...one moment I can say for sure that I don’t have feelings for him, but the next...I’m letting him back in.”
“You’re fucking stupid.”
“I know...”
“Get with someone else, then.”
“I...I wonder if that would work. I mean...seriously? If I devote all my time and effort to someone else, do you think it could work?”
Justin shrugged, fiddling with his beer. “I dunno. Probably. I mean...it’s a whole different person. A whole lotta different things. Try it.”
“But...the only one I’m interested in is straight.”
“Then fuckin’ look for someone else! Geez...Winner, sometimes...I don’t know about you, man. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You’re such a girl.”
Quatre scowled at him, then hit his chest, making the other guy wheeze in response. “Fine. Whatever. Thanks for solving my problem. Now...about this tiny little guy...isn’t it illegal to be with a minor?”
“I ain’t doing shit with him! I told you, fucker, he hangs around me all the time! Acts like I’m his fucking boyfriend and shit.”
“Then why don’t you kick him to the curb, stupid?”
Justin shrugged. “I dunno.”
Later on, when Quatre made his bed on his couch, Justin retreated to the back room, noting that the minor was sitting on the bed, looking annoyed. Justin made a scoffing expression at the boy, turning off the lights.
“You guys don’t sound like friends,” Jay muttered. “It sounds like you’ve been involved, once.”
“Man...shut up. Stop being a puss.”
“I can’t help it. It’s just...irritating that you let him in. He’s far more experienced than I...and attractive. And you carry conversations with him that you don’t with me.”
“Kid, go back home to your mom. I’m not cut out to be some baby-sitter...”
“Just so you can have alone time with him? No way.”
“Don’t be a jealous bitch! Now, very quietly, take off those pants. We have to be quiet. Or he’ll come in and bust us.”
“...All right...”
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Jake was grumbling to himself from underneath an expensive Lexus when he felt someone kick his boots. With an irritated grumble, he pushed himself out from the car, looking up at his boss.
The middle-aged man gave him a snort, then a quiet chuckle as he observed the damage on his face. Jake had a slim band-aid over his left eyebrow, just barely covering what looked like a neat stitching job, and a bruise just over his left cheek, slightly marring his eye. It was obvious the guy had been into a fight of some sort.
“She got you good, eh?”
“It wasn’t what you think. Just some guy mouthing off,” Jake muttered, pushing himself back underneath the car.
“Did you win?”
“I kicked ass...but then again...I’d be able to see better if he hadn’t landed a few.”
“You’re scaring my customers, man. If you’re cut up the next time you come in, don’t bother coming in. Got it?”
“Why do you have to be a prick, Moroni?”
“I mean it, Trip.”
Jake sighed as his boss walked off, and he settled his hands onto his chest, frowning at the work he’d finished working on. Trowa had landed a few good hits–what the guy lacked in strength, he made up for in dirty tactics. It had taken two stitches to pull a deep cut back together again, but he felt satisfied for landing a few that had taken a couple of stitches on his head. By the time the two had called a truce, they’d noticed that Quatre wasn’t around. Jake had left, but he was sure Trowa had stayed to wait for Quatre to come back.
Jake was seriously mortified as he thought about what it looked like. As a close friend of his had stitched him up (helping him avoid costly hospital bills that he couldn’t afford), he realized just what the scene had presented. It looked as if he were fighting with Trowa over Quatre. Which made him redden with embarrassment. But he couldn’t help himself–Trowa had started it, and had even brought Michael into it, which was a serious ‘no-no’. He couldn’t help himself whenever someone talked about his son in that manner.
Sighing, he resumed working on tightening the metal wing that kept the drive line intact. Staring up at the metal above him, he furrowed his brow, his lips tightened. In a way...perhaps he had fought with Trowa over Quatre. The guy just kept bringing him down! He wanted Quatre to do good–he had so much potential–but this guy...the guy with the black clothing and makeup, kept coming into the picture to bring him down again. It just wasn’t right, and Jake felt that he wasn’t going to stand by and let it all happen. He felt he had to intervene, somehow.
With that guy around, Quatre was going to continue to fail at what he should be succeeding in. And with college ball coming up...? He was determined to have his friend on the right track.
Later that night, after work, he dialed Quatre’s number, and fiddled with his wheel, noting that he needed gas. Quatre’s answering service took over and he left a very brief message, stating that he wanted to talk to him. He was unsure of how the blond was going to react to him now, but he wanted to clarify things.
He made his way home, sighing at how tired he felt. The complex wasn’t quiet–after all, the hot weather brought many parties and restless bodies, and tonight was one of those nights. Laughter and music rang out, as well as the telltale sounds of cars racing up and down the nearby street. He wearily made his way to the door, and opened it, hating the sounds of silence and darkness within.
But as soon as he stepped in, he received a big shock as he flicked on the lights.
Celia Warner was sitting on the couch, blinking away sleepy eyes as she realized he’d come back.
Unsure of what to say, Jake slowly walked in, frowning at her.
“He’s asleep in the back,” she whispered, shrugging. “He knew where you kept your other key.”
Her appearance was so unexpected, that Jake had no idea of what to say. While on one level he was happy to have Michael back two days early, he was rather cautious as to why Celia was making one of her rare appearances. It only meant trouble. It always did.
He shut the door quietly behind him, and dropped his work hat and keys into the nearby key holder. He gave her a once over, noting that her clothes were fitting rather tightly, and that she reeked of her latest perfume. All his instincts screamed at him to put up his defense shields–every time she came by, things escalated into unwelcome encounters. He couldn’t remember a time when they had a simple conversation that wasn’t tinged with insults and declarations of hate.
Celia was an attractive girl, but she paid too much attention to things that shouldn’t really matter. She kept up with the fashion trends, and tried hard to keep a perfect figure. Her hair was longer this year, swaying against the middle of her back, and was trained to lay stick straight and flat. She had blunt cut bangs that danced over her eyebrows, and too much eye makeup to bring out the green in her eyes. Michael had her expressions–it was evident whenever he looked into his son’s face.
“So...what brings you here?” he asked, trying very hard to keep his annoyance out of his tone.
“I figured you’d enjoy a couple of extra days with your son. Besides, he kept crying around about how much he wanted to come back, so...his grandparents didn’t like it, but they can answer to me,” she replied quietly.
“You didn’t do it out of the kindness of your heart, Celia. What do you want?”
“Why do you always think I’m in it for something? Can’t I do something nice for you?”
“No. There’s always small print behind it.”
She sighed, running a hand across her bangs, then drumming her expensive fingernails against her polished lips. Staring at him, she frowned, touching her forehead. “Where’d you get the, uh, battle wounds?”
“Some guy mouthed off. Now...what do you want?”
“Fine. Be a shit about my kindness. Michael kept talking about this guy friend of yours, and I...was curious.”
Jake looked at her, piercing her with a scrutinizing expression. “About what?”
“I don’t know. Just...he talks so much about him. I kinda want to check him out. I’ve never heard Michael get so excited about seeing someone.”
“He’s just some kid I met in high school. He likes Michael, Michael likes him. They enjoy each other’s company...”
“Michael doesn’t like anybody, Jake. That’s why I wanted to get to know this guy.”
“Fat chance.”
“Why you gotta be like that, Jake? I’m curious about our son’s interests, and I really want to meet this guy that practically makes his day! Just talking about him makes me wonder what’s so good about him,” Celia muttered, rising from the couch.
“I don’t care. Look...I really appreciate you doing this. I can take a couple of days off. I have no problem with taking him early. But...really, Celia. We have separate lives. I intend to keep them that way.”
“Why are you acting like this, Jake? Like...what’s the deal?”
“No deal. Just...stay out of our lives. I appreciate this, but I don’t appreciate you barging in, demanding to know what we do.”
“Don’t be a prick. I’m just making conversation.”
“I’m sorry, I just don’t think we should.”
“I want to meet him, Jake.”
“I don’t care, Celia. Go home. Thanks for bringing Michael over, but go home. I don’t want to fight tonight.”
“Then...let’s not. Just have a conversation with me.”
“I CAN’T!” Jake finally snapped at her angrily. “I can’t just have a conversation with you! Both of us, we twist and screw things up so much that we can’t get along with each other, even if we both try.”
“Well, if you stopped acting so fucking shitty, we won’t have to fight!”
“I don’t want to fight with you!”
“Then stop fucking spazzing out!”
“I AM NOT SPAZZING!”
“Daddy?”
Jake instantly turned away from his ex, and watched as Michael hurried out from the back room, rubbing his eyes, looking troubled at the shouts. Hurrying over to Jake, he leapt into his father’s arms, and hugged him tightly, refusing to look at Celia.
“Hey, son...sorry we woke you,” Jake muttered into his son’s dark hair, Celia frowning at them both.
“Well...whatever. I’ll talk to you two, later. And if mom or dad calls...? Have them call my cell. All right? I’ll take the blame for this. Bye, baby...”
Michael didn’t bother with saying his goodbye to his mother, merely wrapping his arms around his father’s neck and sighing. Celia frowned at him, and walked out, slamming the door hard behind her. Jake scowled at the door, rubbing his son’s back in a comforting way. Michael pulled back, frowning at the bandage over his eyebrow, and the dark bruise over his left cheekbone.
“Did Q kick your ass for being dumb?” he asked curiously.
Jake laughed lightly, putting him down. “No, son, it was another guy. Someone that shouldn’t be talking shit. And don’t curse.”
“But you just did.”
“Don’t listen to me, then.”
“Even when you tell me to stop jumping on the couch? Okay, then! You said!”
“You little brat. Get over here. It’s waaaay past your bedtime.”
“But I’m awake, now...”
“I don’t care.”
“Celia wanted to know who Quatre was, daddy. But I wouldn’t tell her. Cuz she doesn’t need to know. Cuz she’d just hate him, too. Cuz she doesn’t like homosexuals.”
“I...I know she doesn’t, son. She wouldn’t like him, even though we do.”
“You do, daddy? You like Q?”
“Of course I do, Mike. Why else would he be sticking around here?”
“Daddy? Can I ask you something?”
“Fine,” Jake sighed tiredly, leading the way into the bedroom after shutting off the lights. “What is it?”
“Does...is liking another guy...is that bad?”
“Uh...no. No, it isn’t. Why?” he asked cautiously, peering at his boy as Michael climbed onto his own bed.
“I was just wondering. I like Q. But...not that way.”
“I’m sure he feels the same for you, buddy.”
“You too?”
“Uh...yeah. He’s a good kid, sometimes.”
“You know what, daddy? Sometimes...sometimes I wonder about having two daddies...”
Jake promptly choked, sputtered, then bent over, hacking violently after he’d sucked in such a deep breath. Michael continued on with his curious tone, staring up at the ceiling. “Celia I don’t like as a mom, and all your other girlfriends don’t like me. But Q likes me. He can like you, daddy.”
“Er...son...uh...I don’t know...uh...how to explain this, but...”
“And you said it was okay for guys to like each other...I think it would be okay if he liked you, and he could...be my other daddy...”
“Son...go to sleep. PLEASE.”
“You don’t think so?”
“I think you’re waaaaay too mature for a six year old. Where in the hell do you come up with this stuff?”Jake asked him incredulously, sinking onto the edge of his mattress, staring at his son.
Michael shrugged, presenting him with his back, and yawning. “I don’t know, daddy. Love you. ‘Night.”
“‘Night, son....”
For the rest of that night, Jake was plagued with thoughts concerning that situation...and for his own growing feelings for the blond.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Felicia stared at the holoset with a bored expression, twirling a long strand of hair around her fingers. It was a slow Friday night, and she wasn’t looking forward to the dinner Max had planned with his mother and father for later. She really didn’t want to be here–but Max had insisted, giving her a pleading expression that she could not resist.
She rolled her eyes, pulling her knees to her chest, and grumbled about He-Man Felicia Haters as Max walked into the living room, giving her a warm smile. He sat on the couch beside her, his arms wrapping around her neck. His lips found her cheek, and she felt herself melting.
“It’s almost seven,” he said, kissing her ear. She shivered at the feelings that were elicited from that single action. “Why don’t you go take a bath? One of those long ones with bubbles?”
“I don’t like taking baths,” she grumbled, moving her head so that his lips lost contact with her ear.
“For tonight. Just tonight. And take as long as you want. Do your hair, shave, wash up in all areas...and come out when you’re ready.”
“I could have been across town at the strip bar with ‘Shida right now.”
“And it’s because you love me that you aren’t. Take your time...come out when you’re ready.”
“Even when the Beast–er, your mother’s gone?”
“Even. I just wanted you here with me. That was all.” He smoothed hair from her face, and kissed her forehead. “You can skip the dinner–I just needed to talk to them.”
“Are you serious? Why?” she asked him suspiciously, leaning her head back so that she could look at him. His hazel eyes took in her black ones, and he gave a quirky half smile that made her stomach curl. It was an uncomfortable curl that made her shift uneasily on the couch, her knees still between them. He shrugged his shoulders, his hand dropping to her chin, then curling beneath to touch her neck.
“Just go. Take your time. Put on some music. And wear that red nightgown. You know...with the thing.”
“You’re feeling frisky tonight, aren’t you?”
“I’m always feeling frisky with you,” he chuckled, kissing her lips. “Especially now that you’ve recently acquired boobs.”
“Hater against flat chests. It is kinda weird, ennit?” she asked, using her elbow to push him away, looking down at her chest. “I wonder where they came from? It’s like...they magically sprouted over-fuckin’-night.”
“I’m not complaining. Not that I was before, mind you,” Max said, resuming his position. He lowered his head to kiss one mentioned breast, and Felicia giggled, pushing his head away and quickly leaving the couch. Max flopped down onto the cushions from the abrupt leave.
“I’ll go...and I ain’t runnin’ from her, either. I’ll come out when I’m ready.”
Max grinned after her, then rose from the couch, making his way into the kitchen. He seriously hoped that she didn’t come out when Janice and Bob were there...he counted on her reluctance to show. But even if she did pop up, well...wouldn’t she be pleasantly surprised?
The doorbell rang nearly twenty minutes later, and he admitted in his parents, both of whom were armed with their own share of dinner–take-out from a nearby Indian restaurant. The spices and aromatic scents caressed his nostrils as he prepared the table.
“Where’s the girl?” Janice asked with an annoyed tone, taking a seat at the head of the table.
“She just got off work,” Max replied cheerfully, setting out the roast that had slow cooked all day. He had just finished slicing it into preferred slices, and the smells mixed pleasantly with those of the take-out boxes. “She’s taking a bath.”
“I hear she’s up to no good once more,” Janice muttered, laying out a linen cloth over her lap as Bob took his seat nearby. “I don’t like her, Max. I wish you would just come to your senses and realize what a bad influence she is on you. Making up all these horrible lies about your sexuality, introducing you to her world with drugs and friends...that girl’s bad news. I wish you would see that before it all comes down on you!”
“Your mother’s right, Max,” Bob said, frowning at his son. “We’re concerned that you’re unable to see this sort of thing. I understand that she is your first real girlfriend. It is hard to break away from your first love. But once you realize what it’s doing to you–”
“Mother, father, for now? Just drop it. Here are your plates...what would you like to drink?”
“Coffee,” Janice said on a sigh, shaking her head as she began to dish up. “I love you, baby, but this is just frustrating for me. She’s all up and out there, messin’ around with boys while you’re working and schooling... it just isn’t right.”
“Mother, I already explained that guy to you. He’s gay.”
“Which is entirely wrong. I don’t understand why a man would turn to another man when they’ve got all these fine women around here,” Bob muttered with a shake of his head.
Max took a deep breath, struggling to keep his mouth shut as he loaded up his own plate, and then went to retrieve their drinks.
“And to think that you’re dragged into that sort of world?” Janice then continued, looking at him as he set down their drinks. “Uh-uh. I don’t like it. You’re not that way, baby. You’ve always been attracted to girls. That girl of yours is just trash. You need to get rid of her. I mean it.”
“Mother...will you stop with this bitchiness?”
“EXCUSE me? What did you just say?”
Max lowered his fork, frowning at her. “I asked you to stop being so bitchy. I’m going to say this once more–you don’t know Felicia. What you do know, you’ve read from those fucking tabloids that sell trash and drivel all the time. And as for homosexuals? Your employer is a flame. Merrick is the biggest homosexual in New Park, practically. Why don’t you tell him what you’ve told me?”
“Frankly, Max, this attitude of yours is something that I’ve also come to dislike,” Janice said, frowning as she lowered her fork. “You’ve never talked back this way. And I’ve also come to discover that you’ve stopped taking your medication...over a year! Why didn’t you tell me you stopped?”
“Because, mother, I found that I don’t need meds. As soon as you suspect something is wrong with me, you automatically assign me prescribed drugs to make me ‘all better’!” Max snapped at her. “I didn’t need Zoloft anymore. I never needed it in the first place! Yes, I was anxious most of the time, but most of it was attributed to my own nerves and insecurities. Once I realized I was fine without it, I stopped taking it. It was unnecessary!”
“You were prescribed that medication for your depression, as well!”
“I was not depressed! I was never depressed!”
“Max, you’re my only baby. You’ll always be my baby. Your father and I came here tonight to discuss something with you,” Janice said, straightening her shoulders and facing Max rigidly. “Seeing as you aren’t listening to our recommendations in getting rid of that tramp, I’ve come to give you an ultimatum. You drop her, or risk your inheritance. I’ll not stand for your disobedience. You make me look bad, and you make your father look bad. I cannot risk our reputations with what you’re doing. We’re both respected icons in society, and with you behaving as you are, it all just drags our name in the dirt.”
Max dropped his fork in surprise, staring at her in silence. He looked over at Bob, who was nodding slowly in agreement, chewing quietly on his food. He looked back at Janice, taking in his mother’s features and set expression. He then shrugged, picking up his fork.
“You can take that inheritance and shove it up your ass, mother. I plan on staying with Felicia.”
“WHAT?” Janice roared, rising from her chair. “What did you just say to me?”
“You heard me.”
“I never, in my entire life–have been disrespected from anybody as I have been tonight! How dare you? How dare you do this to me! Your own mother! Have you always disrespected me?”
“I’ve always respected you, mother, but it dwindled when you became a jealous child once I fell in love with someone you don’t approve of,” Max snapped as Bob stared at him in shock. “Once you met Felicia, you started acting so childish, that I couldn’t help BUT disrespect you.”
“This is absolutely unbelievable! How dare you! You cannot do this to me! I’ve spent years sacrificing so many things to keep you happy! You cannot do this to your own mother!”
“I’m sorry, mother. Father. But if you’re going to give me a choice on things, I choose what I’ve always chosen since I’ve met her. I love her. There has never been any doubt. Sure, we have troubles and insecurities, but we’ve all had them,” Max said quietly, frowning. “And I’m sorry I can’t agree to your beliefs and opinions, but...if it comes down to this...”
Janice stared at him in disbelief, then looked back at Bob. Stiffly, she shoved her chair against the table, Bob rising from his own with a sense of hesitation as he looked from one to the other. Janice walked over to Max, and slapped him across the face, her eyes wide and her breath heavy. Max stared at her in silence, then watched as she stomped away. Bob stared at him for a few silent moments, then turned and walked after her. The apartment door slammed shut behind them, the walls shaking.
Listening to the silence that lingered afterward, Max touched his throbbing cheek, wincing. He hadn’t expected that sort of reaction from Janice...he expected more than that. He was prepared to fight a full-on war, but it all turned out into a half-hearted battle.
He resumed eating, testing his feelings as he went over what was said and done. And in the end, he realized that it was true. He would definitely chose Felicia over his parents.
When mentioned subject walked into the dining room, expecting them, he looked up at her with a bright smile. She was dressed in casual wear that could also be used formally, but was toned down with her still damp hair and lack of makeup. She looked around curiously for his parents, and then looked at him.
She noticed the bright hand print on his face, and rushed over with a nervous laugh. “Oh my GOD! You confessed your bi-ness!”
“Slightly,” he said with an answering grin, reaching up to pull her into his lap. She curled her arms around his neck, and planted a kiss on his chin. “They’re pissed. They left a few minutes ago.”
“Did the door hit their ass on their way out?”
“It would have if they weren’t running.”
“What’d you say to them?” she laughed, gently running a finger over the red print on his cheek.
“Nothing much. Just the same old, same old...you hungry?”
“Starvin’ like a Marvin.”
“...Have you gained weight?” he then asked, curiously jiggling his knees.
“Any normal girl would have slapped ya. Fortunately, for you, I’ll take that as a compliment. Look! I have a tummy!”
“You’ve always had a tummy...”
“But nothing like this.” Felicia poked her stomach experimentally, and Max blinked, momentarily distracted by the sight of her breasts. “I mean, I’ve always had some curves, but...never anything more that made me feel like a girl. I’ve had hips, but...I dunno. Having boobs and a tummy makes me feel girly...”
“What if...what if you were pregnant?”
Felicia sucked in a deep breath, and looked at him. “But...I’m on birth control. And...that’s a guarantee. It lasts for six years! Livin’ with me, you’ll notice that I ain’t had my period all this fuckin’ time.”
Max felt a little part of himself deflate, and he shrugged. “Yeah...but...I don’t know. That would have been neat.”
“No, it wouldn’t have!” Felicia said, climbing off his lap. She felt panicked at the thought, touching her stomach, then her breasts. “NO! I don’t–I don’t want a kid. I don’t...I can’t! I...”
“Honey, calm down...”
“NO! I don’t want a kid! I don’t–! I can’t be a mother! I’m not even feminine!”
“Sweetie, you said before, you can’t. You’re on birth control.”
“I know, but still–! I can’t be a mother! I can’t even take care of myself! I can’t even take care of anything! I wouldn’t even know what to do if I were! I wouldn’t even know if I EVEN WAS!”
Max watched as she ranted and raved, and finally marched off. Puzzled by that reaction, he sighed, grumbling that it would have been super neat if she were pregnant...he tried to imagine her all round and puffy with an extended stomach, and chuckled to himself as he resumed eating.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Trowa stared at himself in the mirror, looking utterly annoyed at the bruise that swelled over his left cheek, and at the other one that darkened his right eye. Hanging his head, he sighed into the porcelain below him, shaking his head from side to side. On one hand, he couldn’t believe that he’d just got into a fight with someone, and for another–it was obvious, afterward, whom they were fighting over. It wasn’t that words were exchanged–it was because the person they were fighting over had silently commanded it so. Trowa was more than annoyed that Quatre had ran off–taking that stupid plant with him–and that he was fighting Jake over him. It was absolutely ridiculous!
Who ever heard of two grown men fighting over another? He was sure Jake was telling himself that it wasn’t that–Trowa was convinced the straight guy was further denying the incident and making up lies that would compensate himself over the fight. Because, still, the guy was denying that every time he pushed and pulled Quatre into doing something the blond was reluctant to do, it was obvious that Jake suffered a great deal of feeling for him.
“Fucking liar,” he muttered, pushing away from the sink.
The bathroom door opened, and Sylvia walked in, frowning at the sight of his face. She held up a tube of cream.
“This is supposed to mend the broken blood vessels,” she said quietly, working her bottom lip. “I bought before I came home.”
Trowa stared at her for a few moments, then frowned at the tube. It was an expensive brand, costing a bunch due to its working powers on human skin. He looked back at her. “Why...?”
“I doubt your customers want to see that,” Sylvia murmured, gesturing to her own face. “They might be scared off. Taking today off was a good idea, but...you might want it gone by Monday.”
“I...thanks.”
“Here. Let me do it.”
Trowa slowly sat down on the closed toilet, while Sylvia washed her hands, and then opened the cap on the tube. Squirting some out, she applied it to the bruises on his face, frowning as he winced. The silence in the bathroom was strong and thick, and Trowa couldn’t look at her as he felt her fingertips work over his skin. He felt immensely guilty in a way–like he shouldn’t be allowing this to happen. But here she was... helping him mend. Letting him back into their home.
He had to admit that he felt guilty about it all.
“So...what happened?” Sylvia asked quietly, making sure the cream soaked into his skin. “I can’t imagine you ever fighting anyone.”
Trowa shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing. Just...me and this guy exchanged words.”
“About what?”
“I’ve never liked him, he’s never liked me. And we both can’t keep our mouths shut.”
“Must have been pretty heated...for the both of you to hit each other. Frankly, Trowa, that’s just juvenile. What’s so fucking important that two grown men have to fight over?”
Trowa frowned, not wanting to answer that. As if sensing this, Sylvia slowly pulled back from him, staring at him pointedly. He glanced at her, noting the expression, and cleared his throat. “Ah, it was just...a matter of pride, I suppose.”
“‘Pride’,” Sylvia repeated, unconvinced. “Pride...that’s just ridiculous.”
“But it’s true. I mean...when a guy says something that I can’t take, I’ll...say things back. And...I don’t know. He just...drives me up the wall. I lost control.”
“Is this all the damage he caused?”
“...Uh, yeah. That’s all.”
Sylvia capped the tube, and set it aside on the counter. Then, she fell into a crouch, her hand snaking out to settle onto his knee to steady herself. Trowa frowned, feeling ever so guilty with every second that passed.
“Trowa...if this is going to work...why can’t we talk to each other?” she asked softly, frowning.
The jewel in her nose stud was glinting with the bathroom light, and the silver hoops that danced from her ears made slight tinkling noises as she moved her head. Trowa stared down at her, wondering if he had ever truly loved this person as he had with Quatre. Sure, they had ‘moments’, and oftentimes, he found himself looking at her, wondering if she were The One...but as of lately...it felt as if she were continually being brushed aside.
She had been there with and for him since high school–every act of insecurity that he pulled on her, she usually just brushed aside and forged forward with him. She had sacrificed a lot for him, and donated so much time to him, that this relationship he had with her felt, most oftentimes, like payback for what she did. Thinking about it like that had him feeling uncomfortable.
He ducked his head, fiddling with his bangs. “Uh...I...don’t...we can talk.”
“Then we should have no problem discussing the real situation then, right?” she asked, blinking pointedly.
“Ah....I...I don’t know. What ‘real situation’ are you talking about?”
“Trowa, I don’t think you’re a dumb person. You’ve never been. You’re intelligent and artistically gifted. You have so much going for you, and yet, even now, you keep insisting on trying to make me think you’re a stupid person. Now, I don’t think you are. I just think you’re making a dumb decision because you’re not thinking for yourself. You’re thinking for someone else.”
“What are you talking about...?”
“I’m talking about Quatre, Trowa. I admit, I listened to those messages you have saved on your phone,” she confessed quietly, her expression showing her pain. “I know something happened that shouldn’t have. He gave away a lot with that single message. Now, Trowa–!”
Trowa rose from the toilet, and she rose with him, gripping his shirt. Forcefully, she shoved him back down onto the toilet, growling, “We’re going to talk, whether you like it or not! Sit there, and listen to what I have to say, or you insult me by trying to leave! I’m trying to be understanding and negotiable with you, and you’re acting like a fucking jerk!”
“Sylvia, really, c’mon–!”
“SHUT UP! Just listen to me, damn it!” Sylvia swiped her hair from her face, panting slightly. Then, getting a hold of herself, she exhaled lightly. “I am willing to forgive you, Trowa. I...can’t understand what it is you’re going through with him, but I can respect that men can’t think with both their minds and their dicks at the same time. I am willing to believe that you thought with your dick in this event. Therefore, that makes you the bigger dick in this situation. I don’t think he would think clearly, either, since men are incapable of thinking with their minds in any situation. I...did a lot of thinking, and...the only person to blame in this situation is you.”
“...”
“Yes, you. I believe it was you that coerced him into some one-night stand, and he obviously felt guilty about it, leaving that message. Several of them. I think I can forgive him on one level, but as for another, for the fact that he knew you were in a relationship with me, I can’t really forgive him all the way. It was his mistake as well.”
“Sylvia, I...”
“Just shut up. Shut up.” She exhaled forcefully, rising to her feet once more, her hands settling over her hips. “I’m pissed at you, Trowa. Very pissed. But...while I am going to forgive you...I’m still very angry at you. I already booked a flight back to Reno, to visit with my grandparents for a few days. I want you to think about things, Trowa. Think about what you did to me. To us. And while I would prefer that you stayed away from him...Trowa...just think about what you’re doing to me if you ever go to him again. And if you are...? Please have the grace to break up with me. Please? I love you, Trowa, but there’s only so much I can take. My flight leaves in an hour. I’m already packed, and I’ve got a taxi coming so you don’t have to drop me off. Please...think about things. Call me if you want. Just...be good, all right?”
“Sylvia...I...I’m sorry...”
Sylvia shook her head, then turned and walked out from the bathroom. Their doorbell rang, and she left to go answer it. Trowa sighed, his shoulders slumping as he clasped his hands together, and stared at the bathroom floor.
“The Hand That Feeds” Nine Inch Nails
Jay was the type of young man that thought rationally and, oftentimes, clearly. But when he opened Justin’s door that night, revealing a very flushed Quatre and a small spiderplant, he felt himself grow more than insecure and annoyed.
“Is J here?” Quatre asked, cradling George close to him.
Jay adjusted his glasses, and nodded, almost glumly as he widened the door and stepped aside. Justin came out from the back, looked slightly embarrassed at being caught shirtless and with a minor in his place, and then gave him a curious look.
“You won’t believe what just happened to me,” Quatre declared, slapping George down onto the coffee table.
“What the fuck is that?” Justin asked, eyeing the plant undecidedly.
“His name’s George, motherfucker. Treat him with respect!”
“‘George’?...the fuck? Q, you’re seriously unhinged.”
“No, what’s fucking unhinged is the fact that I’ve got two guys at my place, kicking the shit out of each other!” Quatre declared, checking George’s delicate leaves. Satisfied that he was okay, he frowned at his friend. “You’ve got a beer gut.”
“Tell me about it. All I do is drink, lately,” Justin admitted on a sigh, rubbing aforementioned gut. Quatre chuckled, and reached out, flicking one nipple. “Cut it out. Respect the manliness...”
“All I see are man boobs, sucka...”
“Don’t be all jealous...You had the same form one summer back.”
“Ah...”
“So, who’re the guys? I didn’t think you were such a priceless commodity,” Justin said with a chuckle, leering at him. Quatre sent a lazy kick in his direction, grinning.
“I’m the bomb, man. All the guys want me. No...guess who it is?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know, man. Cut out the girl games.”
“Trowa. And...uh, Jake Trip.”
“That sucka that played for Stanton? Why you all cozy with him, man? He ain’t gay.”
“He’s hot,” Quatre said, frowning at him. “And I respect and admire him. One day, when I’m all growed up and manly, I aspire to be like him.”
Justin gave him a sneer and a chuckle. “You’re a fag, man. Fag. You eat yet?”
“Nah. I’m not hungry.” Quatre glanced back at Jay, who was watching them both, a slightly sullen expression on his face. Blinking, Quatre looked back at Justin, and hissed, “Isn’t it past his bedtime?”
Justin scowled at him, reddening slightly. He looked at Jay, and gestured with a thumb at the back bedroom. Jay looked ready to argue, but Justin merely gave him a glare, and the fifteen year old rose from the couch, and walked back there. Quatre snickered, and then laughed out right at the situation presented before him.
“You act like he’s your dog, or something...”
“Seriously? I met the guy at this party. Tiny little kid. Been tagging along with me all this fuckin’ time. I keep tellin’ him I ain’t into him–age an’ all, but the little fucker just tags along. Can’t get rid of him.”
“Whatever. You’re all loved up by him.”
“I am not. Shut the fuck up.”
“You are! He’s all cute and tidy...perfect little gay boy for the guy with another entity in his pants.”
“Shut up! God...anyway, what the hell brings you out here?”
“Dude...I just fuckin’ told you I have two guys fighting at my place, and I didn’t want to be all...damsel in distress. You know?”
“Fuck that...”
“I know, so I left. And I didn’t have anywhere else to go. And I didn’t want to spend money on a room.”
“Where’s Leash?”
“Out with her psycho friend. I really don’t get Yoshida.”
“No one does. She dropped out of military cuz she’s all mental an’ shit. Has some sort of mind powers. I dunno. So...why those fools fighting over you? Can’t you do both?”
Quatre whacked him in the gut, Justin grunting. He retaliated with a punch in Quatre’s shoulder, and the two briefly punched at each other. When they separated, Quatre took a seat on the couch, sighing. Justin made a detour into the kitchen, and took out a beer, and a soda. He tossed Quatre the soda, and began on the beer.
“So...why did you turn all alkie?”
“Dunno...Just like to drink, I guess. Keeps me sane. My job fuckin’ sucks, man.”
“You going to school?”
“Part-time. Remember? Dude, I told you that.”
“I never see you.”
“Cuz I don’t go to NPU! I’m over at NP Tech!”
“Oh, oh...sheesh.”
“So...what’s the thing with you and...those guys?”
“I...I don’t know. Those two don’t like each other. They’re always saying something. Then Trowa, like, ran his mouth, and Jake punched him. He don’t like it when his kid’s brought up by other people. I don’t know. I couldn’t stop them. I felt all dumb about it. Like a fuckin’ girl. When they’re done...I don’t know. Think I’ll take them aside and kick both their asses for making me feel that way.”
“Why don’t Trowa like him?”
“He...I don’t know. I kinda get the impression that he feels threatened by Jake. I don’t know why. Jake’s straight.” Quatre sighed forlornly at that, rubbing the back of his neck. He realized he was still in his work uniform, and frowned at his untucked shirt, and for the fact that he hadn’t yet buckled his belt.
“You like him?”
“I told you. He’s hot.”
“You didn’t that one time.”
“He changed. And...I don’t know. He’s...getting to know him? Just made me...like him. I like the way he interacts with his kid. And the way he handles a lot of things.”
Justin chuckled, finishing off his beer. “Whatever, you big girl.”
“I can’t tell him this! He’d run off.”
“So...you’re crushin’ on him?”
“Yeah...and Trowa...? I don’t know. In a way, I still have feelings for him.”
“I don’t know why.”
“I don’t know, either. He fucks around on whomever he’s with...especially with his girl.”
“With who?”
“Uh...me.”
“Idiot,” Justin said, giving him a frown. “You brought that shit on yourself. Don’t expect me to pity you, or anything.”
“Yeah...I know.”
“Shit! Why the fuck you’re gonna do that sort of thing, anyway? You know how stupid it is!”
“When you have history with someone, J, you’re not going to lose interest in him the more you hang around him!”
“Then stop it!”
“I can’t!” Quatre declared. He frowned, leaning his chin onto his palm. “I can’t...it’s like...one moment I can say for sure that I don’t have feelings for him, but the next...I’m letting him back in.”
“You’re fucking stupid.”
“I know...”
“Get with someone else, then.”
“I...I wonder if that would work. I mean...seriously? If I devote all my time and effort to someone else, do you think it could work?”
Justin shrugged, fiddling with his beer. “I dunno. Probably. I mean...it’s a whole different person. A whole lotta different things. Try it.”
“But...the only one I’m interested in is straight.”
“Then fuckin’ look for someone else! Geez...Winner, sometimes...I don’t know about you, man. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You’re such a girl.”
Quatre scowled at him, then hit his chest, making the other guy wheeze in response. “Fine. Whatever. Thanks for solving my problem. Now...about this tiny little guy...isn’t it illegal to be with a minor?”
“I ain’t doing shit with him! I told you, fucker, he hangs around me all the time! Acts like I’m his fucking boyfriend and shit.”
“Then why don’t you kick him to the curb, stupid?”
Justin shrugged. “I dunno.”
Later on, when Quatre made his bed on his couch, Justin retreated to the back room, noting that the minor was sitting on the bed, looking annoyed. Justin made a scoffing expression at the boy, turning off the lights.
“You guys don’t sound like friends,” Jay muttered. “It sounds like you’ve been involved, once.”
“Man...shut up. Stop being a puss.”
“I can’t help it. It’s just...irritating that you let him in. He’s far more experienced than I...and attractive. And you carry conversations with him that you don’t with me.”
“Kid, go back home to your mom. I’m not cut out to be some baby-sitter...”
“Just so you can have alone time with him? No way.”
“Don’t be a jealous bitch! Now, very quietly, take off those pants. We have to be quiet. Or he’ll come in and bust us.”
“...All right...”
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Jake was grumbling to himself from underneath an expensive Lexus when he felt someone kick his boots. With an irritated grumble, he pushed himself out from the car, looking up at his boss.
The middle-aged man gave him a snort, then a quiet chuckle as he observed the damage on his face. Jake had a slim band-aid over his left eyebrow, just barely covering what looked like a neat stitching job, and a bruise just over his left cheek, slightly marring his eye. It was obvious the guy had been into a fight of some sort.
“She got you good, eh?”
“It wasn’t what you think. Just some guy mouthing off,” Jake muttered, pushing himself back underneath the car.
“Did you win?”
“I kicked ass...but then again...I’d be able to see better if he hadn’t landed a few.”
“You’re scaring my customers, man. If you’re cut up the next time you come in, don’t bother coming in. Got it?”
“Why do you have to be a prick, Moroni?”
“I mean it, Trip.”
Jake sighed as his boss walked off, and he settled his hands onto his chest, frowning at the work he’d finished working on. Trowa had landed a few good hits–what the guy lacked in strength, he made up for in dirty tactics. It had taken two stitches to pull a deep cut back together again, but he felt satisfied for landing a few that had taken a couple of stitches on his head. By the time the two had called a truce, they’d noticed that Quatre wasn’t around. Jake had left, but he was sure Trowa had stayed to wait for Quatre to come back.
Jake was seriously mortified as he thought about what it looked like. As a close friend of his had stitched him up (helping him avoid costly hospital bills that he couldn’t afford), he realized just what the scene had presented. It looked as if he were fighting with Trowa over Quatre. Which made him redden with embarrassment. But he couldn’t help himself–Trowa had started it, and had even brought Michael into it, which was a serious ‘no-no’. He couldn’t help himself whenever someone talked about his son in that manner.
Sighing, he resumed working on tightening the metal wing that kept the drive line intact. Staring up at the metal above him, he furrowed his brow, his lips tightened. In a way...perhaps he had fought with Trowa over Quatre. The guy just kept bringing him down! He wanted Quatre to do good–he had so much potential–but this guy...the guy with the black clothing and makeup, kept coming into the picture to bring him down again. It just wasn’t right, and Jake felt that he wasn’t going to stand by and let it all happen. He felt he had to intervene, somehow.
With that guy around, Quatre was going to continue to fail at what he should be succeeding in. And with college ball coming up...? He was determined to have his friend on the right track.
Later that night, after work, he dialed Quatre’s number, and fiddled with his wheel, noting that he needed gas. Quatre’s answering service took over and he left a very brief message, stating that he wanted to talk to him. He was unsure of how the blond was going to react to him now, but he wanted to clarify things.
He made his way home, sighing at how tired he felt. The complex wasn’t quiet–after all, the hot weather brought many parties and restless bodies, and tonight was one of those nights. Laughter and music rang out, as well as the telltale sounds of cars racing up and down the nearby street. He wearily made his way to the door, and opened it, hating the sounds of silence and darkness within.
But as soon as he stepped in, he received a big shock as he flicked on the lights.
Celia Warner was sitting on the couch, blinking away sleepy eyes as she realized he’d come back.
Unsure of what to say, Jake slowly walked in, frowning at her.
“He’s asleep in the back,” she whispered, shrugging. “He knew where you kept your other key.”
Her appearance was so unexpected, that Jake had no idea of what to say. While on one level he was happy to have Michael back two days early, he was rather cautious as to why Celia was making one of her rare appearances. It only meant trouble. It always did.
He shut the door quietly behind him, and dropped his work hat and keys into the nearby key holder. He gave her a once over, noting that her clothes were fitting rather tightly, and that she reeked of her latest perfume. All his instincts screamed at him to put up his defense shields–every time she came by, things escalated into unwelcome encounters. He couldn’t remember a time when they had a simple conversation that wasn’t tinged with insults and declarations of hate.
Celia was an attractive girl, but she paid too much attention to things that shouldn’t really matter. She kept up with the fashion trends, and tried hard to keep a perfect figure. Her hair was longer this year, swaying against the middle of her back, and was trained to lay stick straight and flat. She had blunt cut bangs that danced over her eyebrows, and too much eye makeup to bring out the green in her eyes. Michael had her expressions–it was evident whenever he looked into his son’s face.
“So...what brings you here?” he asked, trying very hard to keep his annoyance out of his tone.
“I figured you’d enjoy a couple of extra days with your son. Besides, he kept crying around about how much he wanted to come back, so...his grandparents didn’t like it, but they can answer to me,” she replied quietly.
“You didn’t do it out of the kindness of your heart, Celia. What do you want?”
“Why do you always think I’m in it for something? Can’t I do something nice for you?”
“No. There’s always small print behind it.”
She sighed, running a hand across her bangs, then drumming her expensive fingernails against her polished lips. Staring at him, she frowned, touching her forehead. “Where’d you get the, uh, battle wounds?”
“Some guy mouthed off. Now...what do you want?”
“Fine. Be a shit about my kindness. Michael kept talking about this guy friend of yours, and I...was curious.”
Jake looked at her, piercing her with a scrutinizing expression. “About what?”
“I don’t know. Just...he talks so much about him. I kinda want to check him out. I’ve never heard Michael get so excited about seeing someone.”
“He’s just some kid I met in high school. He likes Michael, Michael likes him. They enjoy each other’s company...”
“Michael doesn’t like anybody, Jake. That’s why I wanted to get to know this guy.”
“Fat chance.”
“Why you gotta be like that, Jake? I’m curious about our son’s interests, and I really want to meet this guy that practically makes his day! Just talking about him makes me wonder what’s so good about him,” Celia muttered, rising from the couch.
“I don’t care. Look...I really appreciate you doing this. I can take a couple of days off. I have no problem with taking him early. But...really, Celia. We have separate lives. I intend to keep them that way.”
“Why are you acting like this, Jake? Like...what’s the deal?”
“No deal. Just...stay out of our lives. I appreciate this, but I don’t appreciate you barging in, demanding to know what we do.”
“Don’t be a prick. I’m just making conversation.”
“I’m sorry, I just don’t think we should.”
“I want to meet him, Jake.”
“I don’t care, Celia. Go home. Thanks for bringing Michael over, but go home. I don’t want to fight tonight.”
“Then...let’s not. Just have a conversation with me.”
“I CAN’T!” Jake finally snapped at her angrily. “I can’t just have a conversation with you! Both of us, we twist and screw things up so much that we can’t get along with each other, even if we both try.”
“Well, if you stopped acting so fucking shitty, we won’t have to fight!”
“I don’t want to fight with you!”
“Then stop fucking spazzing out!”
“I AM NOT SPAZZING!”
“Daddy?”
Jake instantly turned away from his ex, and watched as Michael hurried out from the back room, rubbing his eyes, looking troubled at the shouts. Hurrying over to Jake, he leapt into his father’s arms, and hugged him tightly, refusing to look at Celia.
“Hey, son...sorry we woke you,” Jake muttered into his son’s dark hair, Celia frowning at them both.
“Well...whatever. I’ll talk to you two, later. And if mom or dad calls...? Have them call my cell. All right? I’ll take the blame for this. Bye, baby...”
Michael didn’t bother with saying his goodbye to his mother, merely wrapping his arms around his father’s neck and sighing. Celia frowned at him, and walked out, slamming the door hard behind her. Jake scowled at the door, rubbing his son’s back in a comforting way. Michael pulled back, frowning at the bandage over his eyebrow, and the dark bruise over his left cheekbone.
“Did Q kick your ass for being dumb?” he asked curiously.
Jake laughed lightly, putting him down. “No, son, it was another guy. Someone that shouldn’t be talking shit. And don’t curse.”
“But you just did.”
“Don’t listen to me, then.”
“Even when you tell me to stop jumping on the couch? Okay, then! You said!”
“You little brat. Get over here. It’s waaaay past your bedtime.”
“But I’m awake, now...”
“I don’t care.”
“Celia wanted to know who Quatre was, daddy. But I wouldn’t tell her. Cuz she doesn’t need to know. Cuz she’d just hate him, too. Cuz she doesn’t like homosexuals.”
“I...I know she doesn’t, son. She wouldn’t like him, even though we do.”
“You do, daddy? You like Q?”
“Of course I do, Mike. Why else would he be sticking around here?”
“Daddy? Can I ask you something?”
“Fine,” Jake sighed tiredly, leading the way into the bedroom after shutting off the lights. “What is it?”
“Does...is liking another guy...is that bad?”
“Uh...no. No, it isn’t. Why?” he asked cautiously, peering at his boy as Michael climbed onto his own bed.
“I was just wondering. I like Q. But...not that way.”
“I’m sure he feels the same for you, buddy.”
“You too?”
“Uh...yeah. He’s a good kid, sometimes.”
“You know what, daddy? Sometimes...sometimes I wonder about having two daddies...”
Jake promptly choked, sputtered, then bent over, hacking violently after he’d sucked in such a deep breath. Michael continued on with his curious tone, staring up at the ceiling. “Celia I don’t like as a mom, and all your other girlfriends don’t like me. But Q likes me. He can like you, daddy.”
“Er...son...uh...I don’t know...uh...how to explain this, but...”
“And you said it was okay for guys to like each other...I think it would be okay if he liked you, and he could...be my other daddy...”
“Son...go to sleep. PLEASE.”
“You don’t think so?”
“I think you’re waaaaay too mature for a six year old. Where in the hell do you come up with this stuff?”Jake asked him incredulously, sinking onto the edge of his mattress, staring at his son.
Michael shrugged, presenting him with his back, and yawning. “I don’t know, daddy. Love you. ‘Night.”
“‘Night, son....”
For the rest of that night, Jake was plagued with thoughts concerning that situation...and for his own growing feelings for the blond.
#20#20#20#20#20#20#20
Felicia stared at the holoset with a bored expression, twirling a long strand of hair around her fingers. It was a slow Friday night, and she wasn’t looking forward to the dinner Max had planned with his mother and father for later. She really didn’t want to be here–but Max had insisted, giving her a pleading expression that she could not resist.
She rolled her eyes, pulling her knees to her chest, and grumbled about He-Man Felicia Haters as Max walked into the living room, giving her a warm smile. He sat on the couch beside her, his arms wrapping around her neck. His lips found her cheek, and she felt herself melting.
“It’s almost seven,” he said, kissing her ear. She shivered at the feelings that were elicited from that single action. “Why don’t you go take a bath? One of those long ones with bubbles?”
“I don’t like taking baths,” she grumbled, moving her head so that his lips lost contact with her ear.
“For tonight. Just tonight. And take as long as you want. Do your hair, shave, wash up in all areas...and come out when you’re ready.”
“I could have been across town at the strip bar with ‘Shida right now.”
“And it’s because you love me that you aren’t. Take your time...come out when you’re ready.”
“Even when the Beast–er, your mother’s gone?”
“Even. I just wanted you here with me. That was all.” He smoothed hair from her face, and kissed her forehead. “You can skip the dinner–I just needed to talk to them.”
“Are you serious? Why?” she asked him suspiciously, leaning her head back so that she could look at him. His hazel eyes took in her black ones, and he gave a quirky half smile that made her stomach curl. It was an uncomfortable curl that made her shift uneasily on the couch, her knees still between them. He shrugged his shoulders, his hand dropping to her chin, then curling beneath to touch her neck.
“Just go. Take your time. Put on some music. And wear that red nightgown. You know...with the thing.”
“You’re feeling frisky tonight, aren’t you?”
“I’m always feeling frisky with you,” he chuckled, kissing her lips. “Especially now that you’ve recently acquired boobs.”
“Hater against flat chests. It is kinda weird, ennit?” she asked, using her elbow to push him away, looking down at her chest. “I wonder where they came from? It’s like...they magically sprouted over-fuckin’-night.”
“I’m not complaining. Not that I was before, mind you,” Max said, resuming his position. He lowered his head to kiss one mentioned breast, and Felicia giggled, pushing his head away and quickly leaving the couch. Max flopped down onto the cushions from the abrupt leave.
“I’ll go...and I ain’t runnin’ from her, either. I’ll come out when I’m ready.”
Max grinned after her, then rose from the couch, making his way into the kitchen. He seriously hoped that she didn’t come out when Janice and Bob were there...he counted on her reluctance to show. But even if she did pop up, well...wouldn’t she be pleasantly surprised?
The doorbell rang nearly twenty minutes later, and he admitted in his parents, both of whom were armed with their own share of dinner–take-out from a nearby Indian restaurant. The spices and aromatic scents caressed his nostrils as he prepared the table.
“Where’s the girl?” Janice asked with an annoyed tone, taking a seat at the head of the table.
“She just got off work,” Max replied cheerfully, setting out the roast that had slow cooked all day. He had just finished slicing it into preferred slices, and the smells mixed pleasantly with those of the take-out boxes. “She’s taking a bath.”
“I hear she’s up to no good once more,” Janice muttered, laying out a linen cloth over her lap as Bob took his seat nearby. “I don’t like her, Max. I wish you would just come to your senses and realize what a bad influence she is on you. Making up all these horrible lies about your sexuality, introducing you to her world with drugs and friends...that girl’s bad news. I wish you would see that before it all comes down on you!”
“Your mother’s right, Max,” Bob said, frowning at his son. “We’re concerned that you’re unable to see this sort of thing. I understand that she is your first real girlfriend. It is hard to break away from your first love. But once you realize what it’s doing to you–”
“Mother, father, for now? Just drop it. Here are your plates...what would you like to drink?”
“Coffee,” Janice said on a sigh, shaking her head as she began to dish up. “I love you, baby, but this is just frustrating for me. She’s all up and out there, messin’ around with boys while you’re working and schooling... it just isn’t right.”
“Mother, I already explained that guy to you. He’s gay.”
“Which is entirely wrong. I don’t understand why a man would turn to another man when they’ve got all these fine women around here,” Bob muttered with a shake of his head.
Max took a deep breath, struggling to keep his mouth shut as he loaded up his own plate, and then went to retrieve their drinks.
“And to think that you’re dragged into that sort of world?” Janice then continued, looking at him as he set down their drinks. “Uh-uh. I don’t like it. You’re not that way, baby. You’ve always been attracted to girls. That girl of yours is just trash. You need to get rid of her. I mean it.”
“Mother...will you stop with this bitchiness?”
“EXCUSE me? What did you just say?”
Max lowered his fork, frowning at her. “I asked you to stop being so bitchy. I’m going to say this once more–you don’t know Felicia. What you do know, you’ve read from those fucking tabloids that sell trash and drivel all the time. And as for homosexuals? Your employer is a flame. Merrick is the biggest homosexual in New Park, practically. Why don’t you tell him what you’ve told me?”
“Frankly, Max, this attitude of yours is something that I’ve also come to dislike,” Janice said, frowning as she lowered her fork. “You’ve never talked back this way. And I’ve also come to discover that you’ve stopped taking your medication...over a year! Why didn’t you tell me you stopped?”
“Because, mother, I found that I don’t need meds. As soon as you suspect something is wrong with me, you automatically assign me prescribed drugs to make me ‘all better’!” Max snapped at her. “I didn’t need Zoloft anymore. I never needed it in the first place! Yes, I was anxious most of the time, but most of it was attributed to my own nerves and insecurities. Once I realized I was fine without it, I stopped taking it. It was unnecessary!”
“You were prescribed that medication for your depression, as well!”
“I was not depressed! I was never depressed!”
“Max, you’re my only baby. You’ll always be my baby. Your father and I came here tonight to discuss something with you,” Janice said, straightening her shoulders and facing Max rigidly. “Seeing as you aren’t listening to our recommendations in getting rid of that tramp, I’ve come to give you an ultimatum. You drop her, or risk your inheritance. I’ll not stand for your disobedience. You make me look bad, and you make your father look bad. I cannot risk our reputations with what you’re doing. We’re both respected icons in society, and with you behaving as you are, it all just drags our name in the dirt.”
Max dropped his fork in surprise, staring at her in silence. He looked over at Bob, who was nodding slowly in agreement, chewing quietly on his food. He looked back at Janice, taking in his mother’s features and set expression. He then shrugged, picking up his fork.
“You can take that inheritance and shove it up your ass, mother. I plan on staying with Felicia.”
“WHAT?” Janice roared, rising from her chair. “What did you just say to me?”
“You heard me.”
“I never, in my entire life–have been disrespected from anybody as I have been tonight! How dare you? How dare you do this to me! Your own mother! Have you always disrespected me?”
“I’ve always respected you, mother, but it dwindled when you became a jealous child once I fell in love with someone you don’t approve of,” Max snapped as Bob stared at him in shock. “Once you met Felicia, you started acting so childish, that I couldn’t help BUT disrespect you.”
“This is absolutely unbelievable! How dare you! You cannot do this to me! I’ve spent years sacrificing so many things to keep you happy! You cannot do this to your own mother!”
“I’m sorry, mother. Father. But if you’re going to give me a choice on things, I choose what I’ve always chosen since I’ve met her. I love her. There has never been any doubt. Sure, we have troubles and insecurities, but we’ve all had them,” Max said quietly, frowning. “And I’m sorry I can’t agree to your beliefs and opinions, but...if it comes down to this...”
Janice stared at him in disbelief, then looked back at Bob. Stiffly, she shoved her chair against the table, Bob rising from his own with a sense of hesitation as he looked from one to the other. Janice walked over to Max, and slapped him across the face, her eyes wide and her breath heavy. Max stared at her in silence, then watched as she stomped away. Bob stared at him for a few silent moments, then turned and walked after her. The apartment door slammed shut behind them, the walls shaking.
Listening to the silence that lingered afterward, Max touched his throbbing cheek, wincing. He hadn’t expected that sort of reaction from Janice...he expected more than that. He was prepared to fight a full-on war, but it all turned out into a half-hearted battle.
He resumed eating, testing his feelings as he went over what was said and done. And in the end, he realized that it was true. He would definitely chose Felicia over his parents.
When mentioned subject walked into the dining room, expecting them, he looked up at her with a bright smile. She was dressed in casual wear that could also be used formally, but was toned down with her still damp hair and lack of makeup. She looked around curiously for his parents, and then looked at him.
She noticed the bright hand print on his face, and rushed over with a nervous laugh. “Oh my GOD! You confessed your bi-ness!”
“Slightly,” he said with an answering grin, reaching up to pull her into his lap. She curled her arms around his neck, and planted a kiss on his chin. “They’re pissed. They left a few minutes ago.”
“Did the door hit their ass on their way out?”
“It would have if they weren’t running.”
“What’d you say to them?” she laughed, gently running a finger over the red print on his cheek.
“Nothing much. Just the same old, same old...you hungry?”
“Starvin’ like a Marvin.”
“...Have you gained weight?” he then asked, curiously jiggling his knees.
“Any normal girl would have slapped ya. Fortunately, for you, I’ll take that as a compliment. Look! I have a tummy!”
“You’ve always had a tummy...”
“But nothing like this.” Felicia poked her stomach experimentally, and Max blinked, momentarily distracted by the sight of her breasts. “I mean, I’ve always had some curves, but...never anything more that made me feel like a girl. I’ve had hips, but...I dunno. Having boobs and a tummy makes me feel girly...”
“What if...what if you were pregnant?”
Felicia sucked in a deep breath, and looked at him. “But...I’m on birth control. And...that’s a guarantee. It lasts for six years! Livin’ with me, you’ll notice that I ain’t had my period all this fuckin’ time.”
Max felt a little part of himself deflate, and he shrugged. “Yeah...but...I don’t know. That would have been neat.”
“No, it wouldn’t have!” Felicia said, climbing off his lap. She felt panicked at the thought, touching her stomach, then her breasts. “NO! I don’t–I don’t want a kid. I don’t...I can’t! I...”
“Honey, calm down...”
“NO! I don’t want a kid! I don’t–! I can’t be a mother! I’m not even feminine!”
“Sweetie, you said before, you can’t. You’re on birth control.”
“I know, but still–! I can’t be a mother! I can’t even take care of myself! I can’t even take care of anything! I wouldn’t even know what to do if I were! I wouldn’t even know if I EVEN WAS!”
Max watched as she ranted and raved, and finally marched off. Puzzled by that reaction, he sighed, grumbling that it would have been super neat if she were pregnant...he tried to imagine her all round and puffy with an extended stomach, and chuckled to himself as he resumed eating.
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Trowa stared at himself in the mirror, looking utterly annoyed at the bruise that swelled over his left cheek, and at the other one that darkened his right eye. Hanging his head, he sighed into the porcelain below him, shaking his head from side to side. On one hand, he couldn’t believe that he’d just got into a fight with someone, and for another–it was obvious, afterward, whom they were fighting over. It wasn’t that words were exchanged–it was because the person they were fighting over had silently commanded it so. Trowa was more than annoyed that Quatre had ran off–taking that stupid plant with him–and that he was fighting Jake over him. It was absolutely ridiculous!
Who ever heard of two grown men fighting over another? He was sure Jake was telling himself that it wasn’t that–Trowa was convinced the straight guy was further denying the incident and making up lies that would compensate himself over the fight. Because, still, the guy was denying that every time he pushed and pulled Quatre into doing something the blond was reluctant to do, it was obvious that Jake suffered a great deal of feeling for him.
“Fucking liar,” he muttered, pushing away from the sink.
The bathroom door opened, and Sylvia walked in, frowning at the sight of his face. She held up a tube of cream.
“This is supposed to mend the broken blood vessels,” she said quietly, working her bottom lip. “I bought before I came home.”
Trowa stared at her for a few moments, then frowned at the tube. It was an expensive brand, costing a bunch due to its working powers on human skin. He looked back at her. “Why...?”
“I doubt your customers want to see that,” Sylvia murmured, gesturing to her own face. “They might be scared off. Taking today off was a good idea, but...you might want it gone by Monday.”
“I...thanks.”
“Here. Let me do it.”
Trowa slowly sat down on the closed toilet, while Sylvia washed her hands, and then opened the cap on the tube. Squirting some out, she applied it to the bruises on his face, frowning as he winced. The silence in the bathroom was strong and thick, and Trowa couldn’t look at her as he felt her fingertips work over his skin. He felt immensely guilty in a way–like he shouldn’t be allowing this to happen. But here she was... helping him mend. Letting him back into their home.
He had to admit that he felt guilty about it all.
“So...what happened?” Sylvia asked quietly, making sure the cream soaked into his skin. “I can’t imagine you ever fighting anyone.”
Trowa shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing. Just...me and this guy exchanged words.”
“About what?”
“I’ve never liked him, he’s never liked me. And we both can’t keep our mouths shut.”
“Must have been pretty heated...for the both of you to hit each other. Frankly, Trowa, that’s just juvenile. What’s so fucking important that two grown men have to fight over?”
Trowa frowned, not wanting to answer that. As if sensing this, Sylvia slowly pulled back from him, staring at him pointedly. He glanced at her, noting the expression, and cleared his throat. “Ah, it was just...a matter of pride, I suppose.”
“‘Pride’,” Sylvia repeated, unconvinced. “Pride...that’s just ridiculous.”
“But it’s true. I mean...when a guy says something that I can’t take, I’ll...say things back. And...I don’t know. He just...drives me up the wall. I lost control.”
“Is this all the damage he caused?”
“...Uh, yeah. That’s all.”
Sylvia capped the tube, and set it aside on the counter. Then, she fell into a crouch, her hand snaking out to settle onto his knee to steady herself. Trowa frowned, feeling ever so guilty with every second that passed.
“Trowa...if this is going to work...why can’t we talk to each other?” she asked softly, frowning.
The jewel in her nose stud was glinting with the bathroom light, and the silver hoops that danced from her ears made slight tinkling noises as she moved her head. Trowa stared down at her, wondering if he had ever truly loved this person as he had with Quatre. Sure, they had ‘moments’, and oftentimes, he found himself looking at her, wondering if she were The One...but as of lately...it felt as if she were continually being brushed aside.
She had been there with and for him since high school–every act of insecurity that he pulled on her, she usually just brushed aside and forged forward with him. She had sacrificed a lot for him, and donated so much time to him, that this relationship he had with her felt, most oftentimes, like payback for what she did. Thinking about it like that had him feeling uncomfortable.
He ducked his head, fiddling with his bangs. “Uh...I...don’t...we can talk.”
“Then we should have no problem discussing the real situation then, right?” she asked, blinking pointedly.
“Ah....I...I don’t know. What ‘real situation’ are you talking about?”
“Trowa, I don’t think you’re a dumb person. You’ve never been. You’re intelligent and artistically gifted. You have so much going for you, and yet, even now, you keep insisting on trying to make me think you’re a stupid person. Now, I don’t think you are. I just think you’re making a dumb decision because you’re not thinking for yourself. You’re thinking for someone else.”
“What are you talking about...?”
“I’m talking about Quatre, Trowa. I admit, I listened to those messages you have saved on your phone,” she confessed quietly, her expression showing her pain. “I know something happened that shouldn’t have. He gave away a lot with that single message. Now, Trowa–!”
Trowa rose from the toilet, and she rose with him, gripping his shirt. Forcefully, she shoved him back down onto the toilet, growling, “We’re going to talk, whether you like it or not! Sit there, and listen to what I have to say, or you insult me by trying to leave! I’m trying to be understanding and negotiable with you, and you’re acting like a fucking jerk!”
“Sylvia, really, c’mon–!”
“SHUT UP! Just listen to me, damn it!” Sylvia swiped her hair from her face, panting slightly. Then, getting a hold of herself, she exhaled lightly. “I am willing to forgive you, Trowa. I...can’t understand what it is you’re going through with him, but I can respect that men can’t think with both their minds and their dicks at the same time. I am willing to believe that you thought with your dick in this event. Therefore, that makes you the bigger dick in this situation. I don’t think he would think clearly, either, since men are incapable of thinking with their minds in any situation. I...did a lot of thinking, and...the only person to blame in this situation is you.”
“...”
“Yes, you. I believe it was you that coerced him into some one-night stand, and he obviously felt guilty about it, leaving that message. Several of them. I think I can forgive him on one level, but as for another, for the fact that he knew you were in a relationship with me, I can’t really forgive him all the way. It was his mistake as well.”
“Sylvia, I...”
“Just shut up. Shut up.” She exhaled forcefully, rising to her feet once more, her hands settling over her hips. “I’m pissed at you, Trowa. Very pissed. But...while I am going to forgive you...I’m still very angry at you. I already booked a flight back to Reno, to visit with my grandparents for a few days. I want you to think about things, Trowa. Think about what you did to me. To us. And while I would prefer that you stayed away from him...Trowa...just think about what you’re doing to me if you ever go to him again. And if you are...? Please have the grace to break up with me. Please? I love you, Trowa, but there’s only so much I can take. My flight leaves in an hour. I’m already packed, and I’ve got a taxi coming so you don’t have to drop me off. Please...think about things. Call me if you want. Just...be good, all right?”
“Sylvia...I...I’m sorry...”
Sylvia shook her head, then turned and walked out from the bathroom. Their doorbell rang, and she left to go answer it. Trowa sighed, his shoulders slumping as he clasped his hands together, and stared at the bathroom floor.