Life After College

Holy smokes, Batman! That was a long time to wait for an update!

Sorry guys for taking so long. As I told you earlier, I updated my computer and it took longer than what I expected it to. But now I\'m back in action and ready to roll!!!

Enjoy,
Scribbles 05


translation-- Te amo, Andrew. Usted significa más a mí que el mundo. Pero le conseguiré cantar para mí, una forma u otra: I love you, Andrew. You mean more to me than the world. But I WILL get you to sing for me, one way or another.

Chapter 22

It was Sunday afternoon and Dicky and I were lounging together in the den. Damon and my parents had went out sightseeing and he was showing them around in his car.

Their were several wedding books, catering books, vacation brochures, and phone books on the coffee table. Our 15th wedding anniversary was coming up and we decided to renew our vows. I sat flipping through a wedding book. Inside, I looked at table set ups, wedding cakes, cute little finger foods, and all the different floral arrangements, and noted the page numbers to refer back to later on. Dicky was sitting next to me with his arm around my waist and his tongue in my ear. He was SO frisky today. I’d swear if I didn’t have gum in my mouth, he’d be kissing me right now. I just sat there popping my gum and flipping through the pages. I stopped when I came up on a section called: Ice Sculptures. The picture on the page was of a long table decorated in cream and burgundy, an arrangement of finger food was all over it, flowers were placed around each food tray and sitting in the center was a large ice sculpture of a swan. I lifted the book high so Dicky could see. “What do you think about ice sculptures?” I asked, trying to ignore that my man had now moved his lips down to my neck and started sucking gently.

“What ever you want, baby.” I heard him mumble back.

“Well Dicky, this is your wedding too. I’d like to know what you want.”

He pulled away, grabbed the book I was looking at, and closed it, tossing it on the coffee table with the others. “I want to cuddle. That’s what I want.” I got rid of my gum and stretched out on the couch with my husband. We were both on our sides, legs intertwined, bared feet caressing the other’s, and our arms around each other.

“Happy now?” I asked as I rubbed my thumb over his eyebrow.


“Yes.......Say, I’ve been meaning to ask you.......what happened to your brother? I remember you saying he died Friday, but you never said from what.”

“We were both 18 and we were just about to graduate from high school. We had planned on going to school together in California for music and art, but he got sick. Asa had a rare case of pneumonia and he died. He died the day before we got the two letters in the mail saying we were accepted to college. My parents forced me to go, but I quickly changed my major. We were both inspirations to each other, so when he died, I lost my inspiration for music.”

“So that’s why you don’t sing anymore?”

“That’s why.”

“Not even a little?”

“Dicky.......”

“Just one little high alto note.”

I smiled. “I thought I gave you enough high notes in the bedroom.”

“Come on, Drew.”

“Why do you want to hear me sing so badly?”

“Because I want to hear you.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I’m not singing again, so forget it.” I sat up on my elbow. “Well, what about you? You say you’re part Cuban, right? Why don’t you ever speak Spanish?”

“All right, fine. Te amo, Andrew. Usted significa más a mí que el mundo. Pero le conseguiré cantar para mí, una forma u otra.” The words just seemed to flow out his mouth like butter. And it didn’t sound like it was practiced. More like he knew the language all along, which he did. Even the accent was perfect.

“What did you say?”

“I said, stop eating broccoli. You know it gives you gas.” He laughed and I gasped.

“It does not........It’s peas.” Dicky quickly got up and tossed me over his shoulder. “AH! What are you doing?!” He started walking to the sliding doors that led to the back yard.

“It’s a hot day. I think we could use a swim.” Still in our clothes, Dicky tossed me into the pool first, then he did a canon ball.

************
Damon’s POV............

I can’t hold this anymore. This secret I’m carrying is boiling inside me and if I don’t say something, I’m gonna explode. And I shouldn’t have to keep this to myself, right? I mean, my dads wouldn’t be mad at me. Well, how could they? That would be hypocritical if they did. So why couldn’t I just tell them? One part of me thinks that if I tell them my secret, then people around us will think that my dads being the way they were, caused me to be this way. I can just hear people saying, “It was those two men that caused this.”, “There they go teaching their sinful ways to their children.”, or “Spoiled goods. What a shame.” This is what hinders me. This is what always hinders me from telling the truth. Just listen to me, I can’t even say what IT is. I’m gay.

I guess I always knew something was there, but just couldn’t put a finger on it. Now, I’ve always been a quiet person. Never really keen on being the center of attention or the loudest one of the group, which surprises my dad Andrew, because he was like that at my age. But I knew there was SOMETHING for a while now. Guys my age are getting numerous girlfriends under their belts- literally, while I completely look over them and focus all my attention on bettering my goal kicks for soccer.

Gym was always hard for me. While changing, I’d catch glimpses of the other guys changing and have to force myself not to get a hard on. It’s bad enough when you’re in the age of getting hard ons once every five seconds. I don’t look at them on purpose, it just shows up before me. Speaking of the guys, if I decide to out myself, what type of hell would I catch? Whoops! Please don’t tell my dads I cursed, okay? You should just be in there one day and listen to them telling obscene homo jokes, and calling each other queer for a good laugh. I try to chuckle at it and act like it doesn’t bother me. But it does.

Now there’s this guy named Angel Michaels, he’s gay too. Angel’s a senior in school who has blonde spiked hair and dresses like he’s a jock with his blue and gray school jacket, but has never played a sport in his life. But he DOES like to workout a lot, so he’s pretty muscular and strong. That’s why no one dares to pick on him about his preference. Me, on the other hand, would get my butt knocked into the middle of next week if I came out.

I’ve caught him staring at me a few times and at first it made me feel funny, but now it makes me feel wanted. I mean, he IS cute after all. He’s also been very genial to me when others thought me odd and wouldn’t give me the time of day. He invites me to sit with him at lunch sometimes and offers to buy me ice- cream when I leave my dessert money at home. It’s obvious that he likes me but do I want the attention I’d get from this if he asks me out? And I’m not stupid, I know that majority of the attention wouldn’t be good if I let him think I was interested in him and people find out. But should I do this to myself? Suppose he’s the one for me and I miss out on a good relationship because he’s a man. We could still be together like my dads are and planning our renewal of wedding vows in fifteen years. I’ll never know unless I give in, right?

AAAAHHHHH!!!!! I DON’T KNOW!!!

************

Oh my God!! I can’t believe this happened! I just can’t believe it! I was going to a supply room for my teacher, which was located in one of the doors of the teacher’s lounge, when I walked in on some senior guy on his knees giving Angel a blowjob. I was so shocked at what I’d seen, that I couldn’t move. I’d never seen sex, of any kind, in person. The senior never noticed, Ashley saw and smiled. Smiled? Grabbing the guy by the back of the hair, he thrusted himself in his mouth, still looking at me. Was he getting off at looking at me?

I didn’t have time to think about it, because soon I was growing an erection. I quickly tried to walk out and calm myself, but when that didn’t work, I made a bee line for the bathroom to “fix the problem”.

Though I have talked to Sofia about things I haven’t even mentioned to my dads, I don’t think I can even tell her about what’s going on with me. Which is funny since our dads are both gay. But this is ME we’re talking about. I’m just not comfortable wit this yet. Especially as comfortable as my parents. What am I gonna do?

************

Sofia’s POV.........

Something’s odd with Damon. Yeah, I know the dork has always been odd, but it’s not the ‘odd’ I’m used to. I’d always call him while I was at school and check on him and see how he was doing. Normally, he’d talk my ear off about whatever came to his unique mind, but not lately. He seems a bit standoffish and guarded about what’s really going on. What’s he hiding? When I came home one weekend, I tried to see if my uncles knew anything about the sudden change. They were so involved in each other, they couldn’t see passed it. You see, their wedding was coming in a week and everyday it gets closer, the more lovey-dovey they become. More than once I’d come homeand see them meet me with glistening skin and panting breaths, and it wasn’t from doing a little horseplay in the pool again either, let me tell you. I don’t know what’s happening to Damon, but I’m gonna find out.

************

Andrew’s POV......

Me and Dicky were in bed one Friday night, when I heard what sounded like crying and whimpering. I snuck out of bed and walked to Damon’s room. He was twisting and turning in bed. Benji, now an over weight, lazy, grandpa of a dog, was lying at the foot of the bed. When he was young, he would bark when something was wrong, now.................just lazy. I sat down on the bed and rubbed his hair. “Damon? Damon, wake up.” He kept groaning and whimpering and turning. Sweat was forming all over him and I began to get a bit nervous. Suddenly, he jumped awake with a yell and reached for me.

“Daddy?!” I rubbed his back and tried to calm his crying. He’d been doing this a lot lately. It would just be bad dreams, but he would never tell me of what. “Dad, dad, dad....” He kept murmuring in my neck.

“It was just a dream, honey. It can’t get you.”

“But it seemed so real.”

I got up and grabbed a rag from the bathroom and wetted it with cold water. I came back to Damon and wiped his face of the tears and sweat. “What seems so real? What are you dreaming about, Damon?”

“I don’t know. It’s weird. I’m in this empty room by myself. But I’m not sixteen, I’m like three or four.” *Oh shit.* I thought. “I’m sitting there crying and I’m calling for you and dad, but you’re not there. Instead, there’s some woman who walks in and yells, ‘Shut up you little pest before I strangle you.’” I close my eyes and try to breathe calmly. “When I don’t stop, she starts to shake me really hard and calling me all kinds of bad names.” He started to tear again. “That’s when I would wake up.” Damn it. He was so little when it happened, I didn’t think we would ever have to tell him. But not yet. Tomorrow. Tomorrow morning, when Dicky is up, we’ll tell him together.

I stood up and let him get comfortable in bed, then wiped his face. “Try to get some sleep, love.” I kissed his forehead. “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” He nodded. When I made my way out, I nearly tripped on the lump formally known as Benji. I rolled my eyes, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by the hit; groaning and flicking his tongue out before falling back asleep. I crawled back in bed and stared at the ceiling thinking. Camile did all that? She abused my three year old toddler like that? She shook him? She could’ve given him severe brain trauma. Oh, that bitch! Silent tears started to roll down my face, which turned into an actual cry. Dicky woke up to my soft whimpering.

“Baby, what’s the matter?”

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “He remembers.”

“Remembers what?”

“The kidnaping.”

************

Saturday morning, the three of us were in the kitchen. Damon and I were at the table and Dicky was fixing up some blueberry waffles. Damon looked a bit out of it. Like he hadn’t slept well at all. His eyes were red and I could still see a hint of perspiration on his face. Dicky finished the breakfast and set the plate of waffles, butter, and syrup on the table and sat down. “Damon, your dad told me about your dream last night. From the looks of you, it looks like it’s kicking your butt. Are you okay?” Dicky asked as he fixed his plate.

“I don’t know. I just want to know what it means.”

I stopped working on my plate and looked at my son. “Damon, we need to tell you something.”

Damon quickly looked up at me. “What is it?”

I took a deep breath. “When you were three, your mother, Camile, kidnaped you.”

“What?”

“She’d been strung out on drugs and came here saying she was okay enough to take care of you again. Of course it wasn’t true, so we told her no. Two weeks later, she and her friend kidnaped you. We couldn’t find you for a week.”

Dicky jumped in. “When we did find you. Me and the other officers arrested her. I found you in an empty room, sitting by yourself, crying.”

“So that’s why I’m getting these dreams?”

“Yes. Why now? I don’t know. Maybe you were supposed to know, because before we found out what your dreams were about, we didn’t plan on telling you this.”

“What happened to her?”

“She was put in jail for five years.” I said. “Of course, it’s past that now and has since gotten out, but we’ve put a restraining order on her. To tell you the truth, I haven’t seen her since the court day.”

“And the friend?”

I looked at Dicky. He said, “He skipped out the apartment when we found you. So far their has been no word of him. For all we know, he could’ve overdosed on drugs years ago. Camile too.”

I reached out for Damon’s hand. “It was a terrible thing that happened back then. We were worried sick. And last night when you told me that she shook you, I couldn’t help but believe that it was true. I’m sorry that you had to relive such a thing in your dreams, but I hope that now that we’ve told you, you will be able to sleep better.”

He smiled a little. “I hope so too.”

************

That afternoon, Damon stayed at home and we drove into the city to talk with our caterer on how we want our wedding cake to be. Mark Graves was an overweight fellow with dyed black hair combed into a Caesar cut and earrings in his ears. But don’t get me wrong, Mark is a great caterer. He did our first wedding and the food was slammin’. He has gotten quite bigger professionally since then and now has a company where he has other caterers working for him. They’ve trained under him and take more of the jobs, while he works the office. But we didn’t want them, we wanted him. The food was taken care of a week ago, but we still couldn’t decide on the cake.

We sat in his office and he gave us a book previous wedding cakes he has made and details of what type of icing and cake flavor it was made of inside. I pointed to the picture on the left. “I still like the traditional white cake.”

Dicky pointed to the picture on the right. “And I still like the this one with red velvet.”

Mark shook his head at us. “You two still haven’t decided yet?” We looked at each other. “The wedding is in a week. You’ve gotta think of something.” He started to chuckle. “You know, you’re lucky I like you two, otherwise, I would’ve told you that waiting until the week before to order a cake was way too late for me to work with. Especially if I have other orders to make too.”

I cocked a grin. “Yeah, but we know for a fact that you don’t have any other orders, so hush.” I looked at the two pictures. “What can we do, Mark?”

Mark thought for a minute, then snapped his fingers as a light bulb finally came on. “I’ve got it. I have the perfect solution.” He stood up and walked us to the door.

“Well, what is it?” Dicky asked.

“I’m not going to tell you, but you’ve gotta trust me on this, okay? You know I’d never give you some bullshit cake.”

“We trust you.” I said.

“Good. See you on the big day, then.”

TBC..............
Damon wasn\'t really in trouble in this chapter like I had promised, rather in need. But he will REALLY be in trouble with Andrew coming up. I hoped you liked this one though. I posted it as soon as I finished typing it on my computer. R&R.