Moth's Wings

"The End Has No End"





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!



FINAL CHAPTER!



.::|::.



Heat.



I\'m just... hot.



Jesus.



I kick the covers off of my body and stare up at my ceiling, breathing angrily through my nose. Or at least, I\'m trying. I\'m more stuffed than a hooker on half-off day, right now. My sinuses are killing me. My throat is clogged. My eyes water every now and again. My nose is so raw from me blowing it on medicated tissue that I can\'t feel the snot dripping down my face until I get a distinct salty taste on my lips. Then I proceed to groan in disgust and wipe my face furiously.



I\'m sure I\'m describing it a lot worse than I really look, but Lord do I feel like I got hit by a truck.



What doesn\'t help, is the stupid NyQuil. I don\'t understand that shit. It only comes in one disgustingly thick flavor, and it doesn\'t even kick in right away. I\'ve been getting hot flashes for the past ten minutes, starting in my calves and burning up to my ribcage. Who the fuck gets hot flashes in their calves?



God.



Hates.



Me.



Groaning, I pull a pillow over my face and do my best to suffocate. Anything would be better than this piteous Hell that I\'ve been thrown into.



Nobody warned me that being around a bunch of kids for three days straight would fuck up my immune system.



I mean... it\'s like when a kid is first taken to daycare; before that day they were healthy as a horse, and then suddenly they come home with a stuffy nose and are licking it off of their upper lip with an overzealous tongue. Like a giraffe tongue. Fuck those things are vicious.



I guess you can compare me to that kid going to daycare for the first time.



Only I\'m not licking up my own snot.



... Ew.



As I grunt into my pillow and curse everything holy, my alarm goes off. Fuck, didn\'t I just go to bed?



It\'s official.



God is punishing me for something. And it is most certainly not for adopting an orphan.



Is it because I haven\'t tossed out that pitcher of alcohol? I know I said I\'d do it as-soon-as-possible but give a guy a break; between hanging out with screaming children, keeping the house tidy, filling out paperwork and adjusting my schedule with the company it\'s not like I\'ve had time to empty out my fridge of questionable contents.



A particularly violent, phlegm-filled cough makes me sit up in a fit of rage and kick my feet over the edge of the mattress, making my way into the kitchen. I open up the fridge and pick up the pitcher, dumping its contents into the sink while running some water in the drain. I rinse out the empty pitcher with some soap and water and then set it upside down on a folded towel on the counter, and then fold my arms angrily over my chest and glare at it.



Almost instantly, my nose clears, and I can breathe freely again.



"... Seriously!?"



.::|::.



"Ah, Mr. Dunayevskaya, today is the day!"



Mrs. Carter greets me and ushers me back into her office, gathering some paperwork and squaring them away on her desk. She\'s smiling and humming a tune, and I can\'t help but smile a little myself. My cold is completely gone and I have a renewed sense of vigor about me, and as I sit down in the rickety chair, I almost don\'t notice it squeak under my weight.



"Are you ready to start the rest of your life?" Mrs. Carter asks, smiling at me warmly as she signs a few documents.



"I\'ve been ready since I laid eyes on Mikhail, Mrs. Carter," I say, shifting a bit in my seat. She smiles and clucks her tongue as she appropriates a few papers, and then she picks up a pen, her eyes leveling with mine.



"As soon as I sign these documents, Mikhail will be under your care for the rest of his childhood, and he will be your responsibility from then on out. You agree to take care of him, love him, listen to him, and tend to his every need. You will be his father, and his best friend. Do you understand?"



"I do."



Man, what are we, signing wedding vows? Oh, my precious Mikhail, I just want to scoop you up and carry you over the threshold and bestow upon you a life you never knew could exist~!



"Good." She smiles and signs the papers, before stashing them away in a filing cabinet. She brings a copy over to me and I open the manila folder to see Mikhail\'s Russian birth certificate as well as a few American documents, and then smile to myself as we move through the hallway.



I go out to my car briefly to put all of the papers away in my briefcase, intending on putting them in my filing cabinet at home as soon as possible. Back into the orphanage I go, and a few of the children are tugging at my sleeves and asking if I\'ll be coming back any time soon. Promising that I will, because I know that I won\'t be able to stay away for too long, I make my way to Mikhail\'s bedroom that he shares with three other boys. I knock on the open door, seeing Mikhail packing the rest of his things before he glances over at me and smiles.



He still says nothing, he doesn\'t really talk much, but his smile is all the confirmation that I need to know that I am indeed doing the right thing. He grabs a ratty brown teddy bear and waves shyly to his roommates before he comes to me and clasps onto my hand, my own fingers not able to resist giving his small appendage a reassuring squeeze.



He waves goodbye to all of the other children and a few of them are crying, both in sadness at seeing one of their \'brothers\' leave, but also in happiness that someone was finally interested in him. With more promises to visit, sloppy kisses on the cheek and adorable child-like hugs, I buckle Mikhail into the booster seat in the back of the Lexus and get into the driver\'s side, starting the car and pausing a moment, looking into the rear view mirror.



Mikhail is wide-eyed and curious as he sees all of the gadgets around, and I chuckle lightly.



"Don\'t be afraid to touch anything. This is your car, too, now."



He smiles softly and reaches forward to the headrest of the passenger seat, where the visor slid down to reveal a small 10-inch flat screen. He quickly pushes the visor back up and moves his attention to the armrest that my elbow is situated on, staring at the cup holders and the heat controls. I start the drive home and he\'s still curiously glancing around, only touching a few things, and when we arrive at the apartment complex and park in the garage, he seems a bit afraid as I open the door.



"Come on, Mikky, it\'s time to see your new home," I say softly, as if trying to coax a wild animal into taking a treat from my hand.



Cautiously, he gets out of the car and grips onto my hand, and I sling his backpack over my shoulder. His teddy bear is in his free hand and I make a mental note to wash it to bring out its original fluffiness.



We approach the complex and get into the elevator, him still pressed against my side and thigh as we go all the way to the top floor.



"I promise I don\'t live in a cave," I say, patting the top of his chocolate locks. "After all, caves are underground, and I live on the top floor."



I think he\'s still a bit wary about me, thinking I might be a vampire. So I\'ve been taking the time to cajole him lightly about it.



"You could be a daywalker," he says defensively, and I blink down at him.



They didn\'t have cable television at the orphanage, and it makes me wonder how he knew that term. So, I ask. "You\'re knowledgeable. Did you hear that on the television?"



He glances away, "I read a lot."



Ah, so I have a little genius on my hands? How adorable, my precious Mikky being all studious and intelligent~~



The elevator dings, signaling our arrival, and the doors part to the hallway. I lead the boy down the corridor to the last door on the left, and pull out my keys.



"Ready to see your new home?" I ask, putting the key in the keyhole as I glance down at him.



Emerald eyes meet my silver ones, and he gives me a determined smile. What he says next makes me melt, and promise myself to take care of him til\' the end of our days, til he can\'t stand me any longer.



"I\'m ready... daddy."



Oh, how little did I know that those words would soon open up the gates to a personal Hell.



.::|::.



"Dad, I can do it myself, stop it-- that\'s awkward!"



"But Mikky, you\'re uneducated about this and daddy just wants to help~"



"I don\'t need your help, and will you stop licking your lips like that?!"



I sigh and fold my arms loosely over my chest, pouting as Mikhail groans and rolls his eyes, returning to his paper.



"I don\'t appreciate sex education being taught to my son at such a young age..."



"I\'m thirteen!!"



I tap my cheek, and then adjust my glasses on my nose before I shrug and gesture with my hands idly. "Such things should be left between a father and a son."



He rolls his eyes - I hear it with his grunt more than I see it with my eyes, which aren\'t even looking at my son, instead focused on the sparkly ceiling. How dare they teach such crude things in school? A private school, no less! Also, who thought of the idea to put sparkles on the ceiling...? Is it for A.D.D. saps such as myself to get lost in the multitude of shiny, effectively shutting everything out as they get mesmerized by the \'popcorn\' effect?



"Dad, it\'s part of the education system because not everyone is blessed with a father that sticks his nose in their personal life," Mikhail says, sounding slightly exasperated.



I glance over at him and his cheeks are puffed out indignantly, his lips pursed in a pout and his eyes narrowed dangerously. Oh, if he didn\'t look so adorable then~~



I place a hand over my heart, feigning hurt and donning a scandalized expression. "Oh, Mikky, you make your father feel unwanted-"



Again, he rolls his glittering eyes.



"-when all he wants is to help you during this trying time in your life!"



"Stop referring to yourself in third person, it\'s weird!"



I ignore him, and flail dramatically. "A father, thwarted in his efforts to teach his son about the beauty of life and romance, only to be replaced by some lowly school--"



"I don\'t think I need to remind you that you pay out of the ass for this \'lowly\' school," Mikhail deadpans, and I tsk as I wag a finger.



"Watch your language, Mikky, it\'s unbecoming."



He snorts and gathers his papers and his binder, leaving the table and going into his bedroom. I\'m sure he\'s looking for peace, and he\'ll find it there; I never really go into his room. Since, in the orphanage, he had shared a room with two other boys for the majority of his life, I allow him that luxury, and I know he\'s thankful for it. Especially during this time in his life. As soon as he hit his teen years, he started changing. His voice cracks every now and then, he\'s been growing about an inch a month, and he blushes a whole lot more.



Tonight he had brought home some homework for sex ed, as was usual for most middle schoolers, and I had just wanted to help and convey my concern; and, that as his father he can confide in me anything. As two men, even.



I sigh and move to my bar, grabbing a glass and putting two perfect cubes of ice in the cup. Soon some fine scotch follows, and I move into the living room to sit in my favorite recliner while I sip on my drink. If I know my son, he\'ll come back out pretty soon, probably about...



"Dad...?"



Now.



"Yes, son?" I ask, turning my charming smile towards him. Over the years I finally adapted to actually being charming instead of just pretending. Only my son knows my true self.



"I... I guess it wouldn\'t hurt anything if you helped me out," he says, edging towards the couch slowly before he sits down on the cushions, holding a book in his lap.



I raise a brow as I read the title, XX-XY, and then chuckle.



"Of course. If you have any questions, just ask."



Now... this is where it gets tricky. As you all know, I haven\'t had sex yet. With anyone. Male, female; I just haven\'t had the urge to do so with my beautiful son around, when he needed nurturing and care. But, for my son\'s sake, I\'ll just recite what I learned from my own sex ed classes.



"Well..." he fidgets a bit, keeping the book closed on his lap. "I, uh..."



I smile softly, waiting patiently. Take your time, son.



"I don\'t know why it happens, but when it does, I don\'t know what to do about it, and I get really embarrassed..."



Ah, I know exactly what he\'s talking about. Too bad I\'m a sadist, and will wait for him to tell me exactly what is happening.



... Perhaps I\'m a bit of a masochist, too.



"It happens randomly, but mostly in the mornings and when I\'m sleeping..."



"What does, son?" I ask, and he glares at me as if I should know - and I do, oh, do I - before he turns his glare to the carpet.



"Ighad."



"Come again?" I tilt my head.



"I get hard!" he snaps, and then he blushes darkly and fists his hands in his pajama pants. If he\'s not careful he\'s going to burn a hole through my new coffee table with those piercing eyes...



"Mikhail, that\'s perfectly normal," I say, and he relaxes a bit. "Your body is getting used to its new functions, since you\'ve hit puberty."



"But... I don\'t know how to get rid of it, it takes forever to go away..."



Am I prepared to discuss this with my precious, perfect Mikhail? Can I put myself through this torture?



"Well, there are a few ways to handle it," I say, trying to sound as detached and nonchalant as possible. "You could just wait for it to go away, but like you said, that takes a while. You could take a cold shower - as unpleasant as it is, it works wonders." I would know, I take one every morning. "Or, you could masturbate."



He blinks at me, and for a moment I wonder just how on Earth he managed to stay so innocent while in school. Lord knows I knew what sex was by the age of ten.



"Er," I lick my lips and flail a hand, "That is, touch yourself."



"Touch it?" he asks, seemingly incredulous, as he glances down at his crotch.



I clear my throat and glance away, shrugging. "Yes, it\'s probably the most... pleasing way to get rid of it."



He goes impossibly red, and I feel a blush dusting my cheeks as well. Dear God, I\'m discussing masturbation with my thirteen year old son...



Weirder things have happened, right?



I suppose so... but those weird things usually didn\'t involve me thinking about giving him a... hands-on experience.



Fuck! Where are these thoughts coming from? I sip on my scotch to distract myself, keeping my gaze fixed on my fuzzy bunny slippers. It\'s ok. This is normal. This is what fathers talk to their sons about.



This is what young, horny fathers talk to their ridiculously attractive, underage sons about...



I make a face and press the heel of my palm against my eyes, letting out a groan. I feel his eyes on me, and I stand, downing the rest of my drink.



"Headache," I say distractedly, moving into the kitchen and dumping the ice from my glass into the sink, rinsing it out before filling it with water. I open up one of the cupboards and start looking for some Tylenol, but I can\'t find it as I move the massive amounts of pills aside. Most of them are supplements and vitamins; Mikhail quickly got obsessed with his health when he found out that heart problems run in his family. "Where is the God damn Tylenol?" I grumble to myself, shoving more boxes aside before I place both hands on the counter and hunch slightly.



I\'m not having sexual thoughts about my son.



I grab my glass and dump the water back into the sink, before pouring myself some more scotch.



With all the stress in my life -- wait. I chuckle to myself and shake my head. It\'s not all that stressing. The only thing I\'m worried about, is the fact that I\'m slowly becoming sexually attracted to my thirteen year old son. Not stressful at all.



He was once a scared little boy, and now he was starting to develop into a handsome teen, and soon after that he would be a drop-dead gorgeous young man...



Fuck.



I think I\'ll just become an alcoholic to numb the stress.



--

A/N: Next installment:

Alcoholics Anonymous (completed)

If you\'re just getting into the story, wonderful! Please read the sequel, AA, and then go on to the NEXT sequel, Lions & Tigers & Bears, Oh My! (completed), both of which can be found on my author\'s page.



Anyway... I hope I did alright with this little prequel. I was trying to get back into Dorian\'s head after a break and it turns out that it was quite difficult. My own character outwits me and leaves me blank. e_e; Anyway! Please leave a review and I\'ll be thinking about making another installment in the DorianxMikhail arc. :]



♥

Camui