once upon a yesterday

Review please. I need some loving words.

::once upon a yesterday- planting a seed::

It took twenty-five minutes for Wesley to pack enough clothes for the two weeks he was to spend with the Butler family. Mandy had told him to pack light, but then had given him a list of things he would need. He wasn’t sure where he could get a tuxedo or a pair of leather bondage pants, but he would think of something.

“You are going to stay for two weeks?” Grandma Sue lounged back on Wes’ bed and watched him pack. “You sure you aren’t just runnin’ away from home? Cause I mean… damn, child! What do you need with all those pairs of underwear?” Grandma Sue shook her head. “I know I didn’t buy you any multi-colored briefs. Your dad would have skinned me alive.”

Wes looked up at his grandmother and sighed. “They keep everything in place.”

“The style isn’t so much the problem as those color swirls decorating them.”

“Why don’t you just go commando like real men?” Blake walked into the room and plopped down on the bed, next to Grandma Sue. He leaned toward the older woman and smirked, devilishly. “Sue, you should probably give me some space. People will talk.”

Sue chuckled and elbowed the man in the ribs. “I sure hope so, kid. You know how that would make me look at those Marvel/DC meetings that I host? I would be the only one getting some, gossipwise.”

“Ugh…” Wes grunted from his space inside the closet plunplunked down on his face. He stared at the soles of his Doc Martens and groaned. “I can’t pretend to be her boyfriend! What if we have to save face by making out or something? I can’t make out with her! I do not make with the out!”
Blake looked over at Grandma Sue and grinned. “If it helps, Wesley, you can pretend that you’re kissing me.”

Wesley snorted. “Screw you, Silverdale.”

Grandma Sue grunted and sighed. “Wesley Bennet!” She said in that chastising tone that always managed to grate on Wesley’s nerves.

Wesley nodded resolutely, bumping his head against a pair of sneakers. “Fuck you, Silverdale.”

Grandma Sue chuckled and patted Blake’s leg. “That’s my grandson.” She beamed.

Blake quirked a brow, as he watched the young man push himself up and pull at his pants, so they wouldn’t fall down. “You must be so proud.” He muttered, wryly. “Come on, kid.” Blake tossed his legs over the side of the bed and walked over to the closet. He snatched Wesley up by his empty belt loops and pulled him out of the closet. “Time to come outta’ there.”

Wesley grabbed at his backpack and grunted, indignantly. “I don’t wanna!”

“We need to get you a belt, throw away those ugly hats of yours, and get on the road.” Blake almost lost the squirming teenager, but ended up dragging him out by the seat of his pants. “You just have to make things difficult, don’t you?”

“It’s… what I… do!” Wes struggled against the larger man, but to no avail. He was bodily dragged to his bed and deposited on the coverlet, ass over ears. “I hate you.” Wesley mumbled, as he tumbled into an upright position.

Blake pointed his finger in Wes’ face and growled, solemnly. “I’m putting my ass on the line for you. Now, be good.”

Wes quirked a brow and immediately tried to bite off the tip of Blake’s finger.

Blake jerked back his hand and cradled it to his chest. “Little psycho.” Blake turned to walk out of Wes’ room. “Get your stuff in the car, now.”

Wes scowled after the man and looked at his grandmother. “I’m not little.”

Grandma Sue smiled lovingly and shook her head. “No, baby, you’re right about that.” She ruffled her grandson’s hair and sighed. “You have so much of your mother in you.” She said with a distant smile.

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“What’s wrong with having my mom in me?” Wesley looked out the window and grunted. “I mean she had me in her for nine months, it would only make sense that I would have a little of her in me.”

“Nothing wrong with it… Who said there was something wrong with it?” Blake took the familiar curves and roads, with as much agility and grace his old car could muster.

“Grandma Sue gives me that ‘poor baby’ look every time she compares me to my mom.” Wesley sighed and shook his head. “Did you ever meet her?”

Blake sat silently and shook his head. “No, I met your grandmother when I was ten, remember? You were already two, by that time.”

“Don’t miss your turn.” Wes pointed at the road that they were about to pass, and Blake pulled a sharp move, squealing his tires and scaring an elderly woman, on the sidewalk, in the process.

“I thought you weren’t paying attention, last time we drove out here.” Blake checked his rearview mirror to make sure the woman had picked herself up off the ground and sighed.

“Oh, I’m always paying attention, Silverdale.” Wes scratched the back of his neck. “Do I really have to go to church on Sunday?”

“What are you scared of? God? Catholicism? Neither one will hurt you, if you don’t do anything stupid.” Blake smirked and pulled into the long driveway.

“What do you consider stupid?” Wes gave the man a scrutinizing look.

“Well…” ‘Good question, Blakers. What do you consider stupid?’ “Don’t spit the sacramental wine out, when it’s offered. Don’t throw up on the priest. Don’t ever, under any circumstances, kiss any member of the clergy, unless it is on the hand. My Uncle Tony was a bit of a drunkard and so was Father Flanagan…” Blake looked over and caught the unbelieving look that was being directed at him. He cleared his throat and pulled at his collar. “Don’t talk, unless spoken to. Don’t move, unless directed to. Don’t say the prayers, unless you mean them and know them by heart. You know what? Hide in the vestibule until service is over. Mr. Butler will understand.”

Wes turned away from the other man and stared forward out the window. “I can’t do this. I don’t know how to be a boyfriend, I’m scared of Latin and chanting, the dad is already wary of my presence, and I have no idea how I’m going to sleep in one of those big, empty rooms, without moral support.”

Blake shook his head and sighed, silently. He was about to have his head bitten off. “Actually yon’ton’t have to worry about that. You will be sleeping in Amanda’s room.”

Wes shot Blake a look. “What the hell? I can’t sleep in there. Amanda’s dad would gut me. Besides, young women need their privacy.”

Blake nodded and smirked. “True, but Amanda’s not the one sleeping in her room. Jesse is.”

“I can’t share a room with him, either! I’m not sure I can get along with him, yet.”

Blake shrugged. “Get over it.” Blake pulled the car to a stop and put it in park.

Wes was becoming desperate. “He hates me!”

“He’ll have to get over it, too.” Blake turned in his seat and stared the young man down.

Wes glared at Blake. “Why can’t I have a guest room?”

Blake was getting tired of this argument, very fast. “You have to stay in the room that the stalker would expect Amanda to be in.” had had no rebuttal, so Blake took that as a good sign. “Jesse can’t stay in a guest room, because they are both currently under massive redecorating, which is all because of big sister and her need to make things pretty. Also, the boy shouldn’t be allowed around paint fumes. He has a history of huffing, so they keep aol col cans and cleaning supplies locked away.” Blake saw the uncertain look pass over Wes’ face. “If you don’t think you can handle this neurotic family and their dumb ass kids, I would completely understand, but a stalker would never believe that I was the boyfriend of this young lady and we have to keep it believable.” Blake got out of the car and waited for Wes to follow suit.

Wes got out of the car and pulled his backpack and his suitcase behind him. It had started to rain. “Why wouldn’t they believe that you were her boyfriend?”

It was a reasonable and well thought out question, so Blake decided to answer it, as such. “She goes for the reed thin, girly kinds.” Blake headed around the car and grabbed the backpack from its home on Wes’ shoulder.

“I really, really hate you.” Wesley stated with little to no conviction and he shook his wet hair out of his eyes.

Blake hummed happily, and started for the house. He always had loved the sound of sloshing. “The world is as it should be.”

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“I have to oppose, Daddy. He can not sleep in my bedroom.” Amanda was in the middle of pulling her long blonde hair into a ponytail, when her dad had told her the news. “He’s a nice boy, but I cannot abide him cluttering up my room with his boy… things. It’s bad enough that Jesse took his Playstation in there.”

Mr. Butler ran his hand over his face and sighed. “Darling, there is nowhere else for him to stay. He can’t stay in Jesse’s room, because you insist on staying in there, and he can’t stay in a guest room, because you have forbid us access to those certain areas of the house.” Mr. Butler smirked at his youngest daughter and shook his head. “I will not tolerate him taking up the other half of my bed, Mandy. I don’t care how much I love you.”

Amanda put on a pretty pout and shook her ponytail, testing the band’s strength. Her hair usually snapped the bands, because of its thickness. “Daddy, please don’t make me accept this as the only alternative to rape. There has to be some other way to keep me safe.”

Mr. Butler walked over to his daughter and gathered her into a hug. “I love you, Mandy Moe. Now, please give me a break and try to understand that I just want you safe.” Mr. Butler pulled back and smoothed the frown wrinkles off of his daughter’s brow. “You look just like your mother.” Richard leaned down and kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Goodnight, my love.”

Amanda pulled away from her father and sighed. “Goodnight, my father, my heart.” She laughed, sweetly, and headp thp the staircase. “I need to be up at six. Do you mind knocking on my door?”

Richard watched his youngest child stop at the head of the staircase and his heart filled with pride. She was such a perfect creature and she had come from him. It was nearly unbelievable. “I will wake you, darling. Goodnight.”

“G’night.” Amanda yawned and went to ‘her’ room.

Mr. Butler shook his head and sighed. How would he keep her safe? The doorbell rang, pulling Richard out of the thoughts that consumed his every waking hour. He walked to the door and opened it slowly. “Hello.” Richard smiled at the sopping wet teenager, standing on his doorstep. He had learned a good amount of information involving this strange teenager, Wesley. “Come inside. You must be freezing.”

“Blake decided to just drop off my bag and hit the road. He said he wants to get back home before it starts to rain.” Wesley quirked an eyebrow and kledkled. “What a cutup.”

Richard nodded and motioned for Wes to come inside. “You should hurry on upstairs and get ready for bed. Amanda is planning on getting up at six. She has to go get some photographs taken at eight, and she needs to prepare.” Mr. Butler looked at the tired, wet boy and shook his head. “I’ll get you up at seven. The room is upstairs in the left hallway, third door on the right.”

Wesley thanked Mr. Butler, silently voted him the patron saint of the weary teen, and picked up his bags. He went upstairs to his current room and pushed the door open. Jesse sat with his back to the door, playing video games on a Playstation 2. “What are you playing?” Wesley dropped his bags at the foot of the bed and looked around the room; everything was pink and frilly.

“I’m playing Splinter Cell. I fucking rock.” Jesse was an animated gamer, moving just about as much as his character did, as he maneuvered him across the screen.

“It rainiutsiutside. I’m going to get out of these wet clothes and into something dry. I hope you don’t mind.” Wesley pulled his shirt over his head and hissed as the cool air hit his damp chest.

Jesse shrugged and nodded over at the closet. “There’s a clothes basket in there.”

“Thanks.” Wesley pushed at soppsopping pants and grunted. They were fighting the inevitable. “Come off you damned pants.” Wesley struggled and fell backward onto the bed, pushing with the determination of a steamroller.

Jesse looked over his shoulder and gaped. Wesley was long, lean, and naked, now that he had wriggled free of his jeans. “Having problems?” Jesse said around the lump in his throat

Wesley let his body fall lax, and sighed. “I feel like I just ran a marathon.”

Jesse chuckled, nervously. “A naked marathon?”

Wesley looked down at his well-toned body and sighed. “They’re the best kind.” Wes looked at the boy and pointed at his bag. “Think you could throw me some flannels?”

Jesse dropped his controller and crawled toward the bag. He opened it, digging through the contents, until he pulled out a pair of flannel pajama pants. He threw them to the reclining young man and looked away, shyly. “You aren’t very modest, are you?”

Wesley thought it over as he kicked his legs up in the air and pulled on his pants, both legs at a time. “Nope.” He decided resolutely.

TBC… perhaps.