Moth's Wings

"Moth's Wings"


A/N: Alright. This one-shot takes place before Alcoholics Anonymous, and obviously before Lions & Tigers & Bears, Oh My!. Here we go in depth with Dorian (in 1st POV once again cuz you guys seem to love that, hurrdurr) and his family, as well as his adoption process of Mikhail, plus Microsoft, blah blah blah... xD;

So the order of the story arch is:
Moth's Wings
Alcoholics Anonymous
Lions & Tigers & Bears, Oh My!

Hope you enjoy!

.::|::.

"D-Dorian Alan Dunayevskaya!!"

God damn, can that woman shriek. I wince and pull away from the liplock I was currently engaged in, sending my mother a rather blank, bored stare. Her face is red as a tomato, her eyelids purpling a bit as veins start to enlarge under her flushed skin. Huh, you know, usually it's the dad that gets all red-in-the-face-angry. Not in my family. I guess it's what we get for being Russian? Everyone's angry. Har, har, stereotype.

Anyway, the other boy on my bed looks like he's about to shit himself. Or piss. Or something rather unsexy and completely unrelated to the heated kiss we were just sharing. Mom had chosen to barge in on us with milk and cookies, which were now scattered on the floor in front of my doorway, and was now looking like she had swallowed something nasty. Like a pickle. Mother hates pickles.

"You!!" Her shriek is seriously so loud and high pitched, I swear my window just cracked a bit. I glanced over at it idly, curious, but it was still in one seamless piece. Damn, I really wanted something like that to happen... "Get out of here!"

My friend, I can't even remember his name, gets up and bolts out of the door, much like a dog with its tail between its legs. What a coward. I fold my arms over my chest loosely and sit a bit more comfortably, knowing that I'm in for the long-run this time. Which really sucks, because not only was I enjoying my first homosexual kiss, I also had homework to do, as well as my job in about an hour. At sixteen it's not like there is much else for me to do. I don't play sports and I could care less about going to the mall to hang out with 'friends'. Fuck, that kid that was just sucking my face isn't even my friend. Just some cute kid from home room that I managed to snag for the afternoon. And mother had to ruin it. God damn you, mother! Ruining your son's libido at an early age!

"You." Now her voice is a little calmer, and I let my steely grey eyes focus on her own equally cold ones. Her face is still red, and she looks like she's fighting off a hernia with her mind. Mental powers to heal the body - I wonder if psychics can heal themselves just by willing it to happen... "I'm disgusted." Well, fuck, I already knew that. Thanks, mom. Why don't you go ahead and puke all over my carpet, too? Make those cookies and spilled milk a little more appetizing. "Get. Out."

At this, I blink. ... Get out? Is she serious? I had never done anything so atrocious for her to tell me to get out of the house, but I should have known that this would be the deal breaker. As hardcore Catholics I knew better, I knew that they wouldn't just brush something like this under the rug. I blink again, and she stomps her foot on the ground, her fist connecting with my open door, denting the wood with the blow. My mind clicks into gear and I quickly pick myself up and grab my backpack along with a few other items of clothing, hurrying out of my bedroom past my mother, who looks like she was about to suck me up through her flared nostrils and digest me with her spleen. I don't think I've ever ran so fast down the stairs, and it's really a wonder that I make it down unscathed. Even walking at a normal pace I manage to fall down two stairs, at least, but I think in my body's sudden surge of adrenaline to get as far away from the fire-breathing monster as possible, my limbs decided to work properly.

You could say that puberty was a bitch to me and left me kind of awkward.

I run out of the front door, ignoring the confused looks my father is giving me, because I know as soon as mom comes downstairs he too will transform into a dragon-lion-child-eating-hybrid-demon-thing. I don't really feel like being on the menu today, thanks. I run until the lactic acid in my legs builds up and starts to burn, and I stop and lean heavily against a tree, panting as I try to bring in more oxygen to my lungs. With my head dipped low my glasses start to slip to the edge of my nose, and I distractedly push them up with my fingertip as I glance around. I'm closer into town now, and judging by the giant fucking sign in front of my face, I was standing outside of an orphanage. There are a few kids playing out in the yard and I watch them as I catch my breath; I have always liked kids and can't wait to be a father. Weird, since I've just finally come to terms with my homosexuality, but it's not like there's never been a gay dad in the world.

One child in particular was playing catch with another, using a tennis ball. An adorable little thing, I notice as my eyes start to sparkle. Absolutely adorable. His cheeks are round and rosy, and though I'm not close enough to see the color of his eyes, I can see them glittering with happiness. His hair is brown and shaggy and looks almost impossible to tame, and for a little squirt he was pretty athletic. As he laughs and plays with his friend, a pang goes through my heart as I realize that he has no parents. That they either abandoned him, or passed away. Neither of those things are too appealing to me, and as I see the little boy smile and laugh, my heart starts to ache. My parents had just basically abandoned me, too. I feel a slight pull, a connection to this kid that hasn't even noticed me standing outside the grounds. I give him one long last look before turning around and slinging my bag more comfortably over my shoulder, heading across the street. Might as well go to work and explain my situation, since I was close to the neighborhood.

Mark's Grocer stares down at me menacingly, and I sigh and droop slightly as I enter the store. The cashier of the tiny market blinks up at me; she's a middle-aged woman, wife of Mark, and really kind-hearted.

"Dorian, what are you doing here? You don't work for another hour," she says, as she waves off the customer she had just finished helping.

"When you get a free moment, I'll tell you about it," I say, heading to the back of the store to the employee break room, setting my bag down on the counter. I stare at the burlap blankly, the events starting to catch up with me. Well, it had happened so fast, I wouldn't be surprised if my eyes were rolled back into my skull because I'm so fucking dizzy right now. Sitting down on the chair, Denise and Mark come into the back room, both looking rather concerned.

"Is everything all right?" Mark is also a very genial man; African-American descent and not too bad on the eyes, for an older dude.

I shake my head and slump even further into my chair. "My parents just kicked me out."

Denise gasps, and Mark frowns. "Why? Do you have anywhere to go?"

I skip past the 'why' and answer the second question. "I don't have any place to go." My head tips back and I stare at the ceiling, folding my hands over my stomach.

There was a 'tsk' from Denise, and she ushered Mark away for a few moments. I wasn't stupid, I know they're discussing letting me live with them for a little bit. I already have a shit ton of money saved up from a college fund my grandparents gave me, plus money on top of working here at the grocer and not having much to spend my money on aside from a cell phone bill. I don't have a car because I'm perfectly fine with walking, or the bus. The pair come back in to the room and Denise smiles warmly at me, and I can't help but feel bad. I didn't ask for them to help, I know they're offering it, but that doesn't mean I can't feel a little bad about it.

"We just had the space above our garage refurbished to be an apartment and have been looking for a tenant," Mark says, scratching the back of his neck idly. "You're welcome to rent it out."

I smile softly; good, they were going to make me pay rent. If they had offered me a place without expecting me to give them anything in turn, they would be in for a rollercoaster of me brooding and insisting that I get just what I want AND pay them back.

"I'd appreciate that, Mark." I stand and stretch, taking my uniform shirt out of my bag. "I'll have to stop by my house and grab my stuff later."

Denise was still frowning a bit, obviously displeased at my being kicked out. They thought I was a good kid and a lot of the time I considered them more parental-like than my own parents, but that was the downside of being the black sheep in a religious family.

The woman kisses me on the cheek and pets my platinum hair, mussing it a bit before heading back out into the store. Mark shifts awkwardly before patting me on the shoulder amiably and leaving as well.

This is my chance, I think to myself as I take off my white tee and pull on the ugly orange polo shirt with my name tag on it.

This is my chance to make my life my own.

.::|::.

I've been living with Denise and Mark for a few months now, and decided to drop out of school about a week after I got kicked out. Denise and Mark were a bit upset at first, but they mentioned something about needing more employees during the day time hours. I promised to try and finish school, online or otherwise, and they were satisfied with that. Things have been moving pretty seamlessly, and every day when I walk to work I see that same little boy playing out on the grounds of the orphanage. I can't explain it; I'm so drawn to him, like a moth to the flame. I don't just stand there and stare awkwardly, of course, I merely (try to) casually watch him as I walk down the sidewalk.

I start scanning and punching in the PLU's for a customer at register 1, the act taking no longer than ten seconds for his cart full of items. I had caught on to the computer system quick and was a proficient typist, so I quickly became the most desired cashier, since I got customers in and out in a flash. All while providing a customer-service-perfect-smile, of course. I had just gotten my braces off before I had been kicked out, and my teeth were perfect and white and pristine. I loved them.~

I bag the groceries and hold them out to the customer, who looks like a business man by the way he's dressed. He raises a brow and slowly takes the bags from my hands, and then smiles a bit.

"You're pretty good with that machine," he says, and I glance at the stone-age register, and then turn a raised brow back at the man, asking him to kindly get the fuck on with his point. "Are you good with all computer technology?"

I shrug as I start scanning the next persons' groceries. "I guess. I built my own computer last week from scratch and was the go-to guy at school whenever someone had technical difficulties." I smile slightly. "I guess it's a closet passion I have."

The man smiles in return and sets a card down on the counter. "If you're interested in another job, full or part time, give me a call. I could use an efficient kid like you around the office."

I snort, "As a secretary?" I glance down at the card as I bag the customer's groceries and hand them to her, bidding her a good day. I pick up the card and examine it -- I totally skip over the name as the company label practically screams at me from the page. "Microsoft? You're from the Microsoft Offices?" I ask, a bit dumbfounded. Oh fuck would I give my left kidney to work in that place!

"I am," the man seems a bit smug. "You can drop by tomorrow, if you're interested."

I continue to stare at his card, and then glance up. I didn't want to agree right away - I had to help Mark and Denise. Well, they just hired that Aaron kid, I'm sure he'll be a good help if I cut my hours back a bit to get a second job... Pretending to contemplate, I flipped the card around in my fingers a few times before pocketing it.

"We'll see." I say, and the business man nods and grins as he walks out of the building.

I didn't say it, and he didn't say it, but we both totally know that I'm gonna show up at his office tomorrow.

.::|::.

"That looks retarded," I say, staring at the computer screen. Whitney huffs and clicks around a few times, types in a few key words, and then the screen shifts colors. "That's even more fucked up. You'd think if the software itself was going to be horrible you could at least make it look nice." Standing and moving away from the woman's desk, I move back to my office and sit in my chair, booting up my own laptop.

It's been two years since that guy propositioned me about working in Microsoft, and I proved to be a rather shitty secretary. Too clumsy for my own good, I got shit mixed up way too many times, and I was pretty much at the bottom of the totem pole. However, when my boss had vacated his office for a few minutes and asked me to put some files on his desk, I couldn't help but notice the software program he was developing on the computer. With just one glance I already discovered the glitches he was trying (and failing) to work out, and so I had bent over and started stroking my fingers over the keyboard like they belonged there, drifting easily over the buttons and quickly getting rid of the glitches. My boss had came back just as I was pressing the enter key to publish what I had done in ten seconds, and I had jumped back and away from the computer. He growled and made his way over, glanced at the software, and instantly his eyes widened.

"You did this?" He had asked me, and I could only nod and clutch the files to my chest like they'd protect me from lazer eye beams. "This is..." Horrible? Atrocious? Totally against Secretary Law of What I Can and Can Not Do on Computers? All three? Oh shit. "Amazing."

Okay, so I wasn't expecting that reaction. I sighed and almost dropped the files, but I scrambled and quickly set them on the table. As I was straightening the stack, I got the best news of my life:

"I'm going to make you head of the department."

I had only been working there for six months.

And, currently, we were developing a software for Microsoft computers and laptops that would make things easier, and simpler, for the every day computer user. Only... it wasn't all that easy, or simple. In fact, it was riddle with problems and loopholes and shit that just gave me a headache. I wasn't in charge of it, thank God, otherwise I would have wiped the entire thing and started over from scratch. But, like I said, if they made it pretty and gave it some bells and whistles, then maybe people won't be so put off by it sucking so bad.

Maybe.

I check my itinerary for the day and see that I have nothing scheduled after one p.m., and pick up the phone to call my secretary.

"Yes, Mr. Dunayevskaya?" Her voice purrs over the receiver and I shudder in slight disgust. Now, Lisa is a very attractive, older woman, but my homosexuality only managed to register just that. However, everyone is obviously incredibly stupid or just chooses to ignore the fact that I'm gay, so she and various other women continue to hit on me, and I continue to deflect them."

"Make sure my schedule stays clear for the rest of the day. I'm going home early." I hang up the receiver before she tries to finagle me into going out on a date with her, and stand to put my blazer on over my white button-down shirt. I loosen my tie and grab some documents from my locked upper drawer, shutting it and re-locking it before I glance out of my door.

I've learned to scope out the area before I ever leave the building, since everyone seemed to like to corner me to either talk, coerce me into a date, or make me look over whatever they were working on. You can't call me anti-social, more... awkward-social. I can turn on my charm and wit whenever I need to, but I prefer to keep to myself and work in solitude. I hate having partners, I hate having people oversee my work, and... okay, I don't hate people, but I'm fine being a lone wolf. It's worked well enough for me so far; since Mark and Denise I haven't wanted to depend on anyone else for anything. I had the need to establish my independence and now I finally got it; granted, at nineteen that's rather young for someone to already be settled into a condominium in downtown Seattle, drive a shiny new Lexus and be head of his own department -- but I'm not complaining. If anything, it could have happened sooner. Like, before my parents kicked me out. Or something. I don't know how that'd make anything better but it sounds good in my head.

Darting my eyes about, I see everyone busy at work in their cubicles. Sticking close to the walls I edge my way to the elevator - twenty feet - and hold my breath as a girl clears her throat nearby. She grabs a bottle of water and takes a sip, before returning to her work. I sigh mentally and continue inching closer, closer to the elevator - ten feet - and I hesitate before moving any further. Lisa, my secretary, is typing away on the computer, but I know she's only looking busy. I see the headset she has attached to her head, and I can just barely hear the annoying voice of her best friend, Jill, on the other line. Okay, annoying wasn't correct... she was just loud. One of those voices that commanded you listen to it even though you really didn't give a fuck about what she was saying. Hoping she was distracted enough to not notice me slipping by, my hopes were dashed as she swiveled in the chair and her eyes landed on me.

"Oh, Mr. Dunayevskaya!" She beamed and pressed the button on her headset, ending whatever conversation she was having with Jill. "Are you leaving early?"

"Er." I chance a glance at the elevator - five feet - and then glance back at the redhead that was currently batting her heavily-mascara'd eyelashes at me. I should make it a policy for my employees to not wear make-up... "I have an appointment."

She frowns and tilts her head. "But there wasn't one scheduled today."

If she wasn't my secretary, I'd say she was a stalker. "I just made one."

Her brown eyes slide back to her computer monitor. "You didn't log it?"

"It's personal," I say. Normally I'd be irritated that she was so concerned about what I was doing, but since I'm in such a rush to get out, I don't really care. "Haveanicedaygoodbye!"

I turn around to rush to the elevator, only to once again be foiled in my master plan of leaving the office early. I bumped right into my boss and documents scattered through the air and floated back down to Earth, my face reddening slightly as my boss catches one and glances at it.

"Adop--"

I shove him back into the elevator and hurry to pick up the rest of the papers, following him into the metal box and hitting the 'door close' button fast enough and hard enough to jam my thumb. I lean against the wall and let out a breath, before glancing down at my papers and frowning. They were all mixed up now; good thing there were numbers on the bottom right corner of each paper. I glance over at my boss and offer a charming, crooked smile, and he merely stares blankly at me.

"And what, may I ask, was the reasoning behind that?"

The office was already used to my shenanigans and my eccentricities; odd things were always happening around me, things that couldn't quite be explained, and of course the randomness of it all kept most of the employees on edge.

"Lisa," I say, as I start to re-organize the papers in the manila folder. "She's a bit too nosy for my liking."

"She's a secretary," my boss says, and I blink up at him. He's an attractive man in his forties, married with two children. One is about my age, and he always says it's weird to think of it like that, because my 'maturity is a level beyond comprehension of any teenager'. Apparently he doesn't know me too well. I call him 'Mr. Boss' 'cause I can't remember his name for the life of me. "It's her job."

I sigh and nod, satisfied with my papers as I close the manila folder and hold it at my side, tightly, to make sure none of the papers fly loose. "I know. But this is something that I'd like to do, without it being gossiped about in the office when I come back in the morning."

Mr. Boss raised a brow and gave a playful grin, "And you think I won't start rumors about it?"

I match his brow and then roll my eyes. "Please, you hate gossip just as much as I do."

"Right." He nods, and then glances down at the papers. "So you're thinking about adopting?"

"I am," I admit, leaning against the railing of the mirrored elevator walls. "There's a kid I've had my eye on for a while... I'm just drawn to him." I lift up the papers and gave a slightly sheepish grin. "You wouldn't believe how many strings I had to pull in order to qualify for this stuff."

"I can imagine it was difficult," Mr. Boss says, nodding sagely. A few seconds of silence stretch between us, before he breaks it. "You'll be a good father, Dorian."

I smile and blush faintly; no one has ever said that to me before, despite the fact that I thought I might make a good father. But it's not my opinion that matters, is it? It all depends on if the orphanage sees me fit as a father. Stable job: Check. Car: Check. Babysitter if need be: Check. Walking distance to school: Check. Healthy home life: Check. There really shouldn't be any issues, aside from my age. But even then, Mr. Boss said that I was mature beyond my years, so maybe (hopefully) that would help.

The elevator dings and the doors open, Mr. Boss and I making our way out as a few other people make their way in. I head towards the entrance of the building and he heads towards the main desk, before his voice calls out and stops me in my tracks.

"Dorian!"

I turn around, my hand on the lever of the door.

"... Good luck," he says, offering me a reassuring smile.

I smile in return, and open the door to prepare myself mentally for what I was about to endure.

For all of those women that say giving birth is Hell, you should try being a single, young adult gay male trying to adopt a kid.

Then tell me that giving birth is one of the most emotionally draining, painful thing you've ever done.

... Bitches.

--
A/N: Gah. Will either be 2 or 3 chapters.
@_@;
Fuck me and starting shit like this.
elkjfsdlkjfsljkdfslk

Review please. :D
♥ Camui