nothing false and possible

Un-disclaimer- This story is fictional and my own piece of work. Don’t steal or I kill you.

Dedications- I am dedicating it to my friend and super-fan Chelsea. I am also dedicating it to the father of one of my closest friends. He is a wonderful man and I love him dearly. He is definitely the inspiration for this little work of art.

Warnings (disclaimer)- There will most likely be some May/December relationshipping going on. Also, it will be between two males. Don’t like it, don’t read it. Small spurts of angst are probable, but I also plan on some off the wall humor, because I can’t function without it. NC-17 rating is for future chapters which will most likely involve naughty sex between two lovable and sexy characters, if I do say so myself.

Some more notes- The more reviews I get, tore ore I feel like continuing with the storyline. That’s just how I work people. So give me some love and I’ll give you some slash. We can make this co-dependant relationship work; I just know it!

::nothing false and possible- chapter one::

Stephen sat back in his bed and took a bite of the taco that was currently dripping down his arm. Taco bell was the recent craze in his house, since his mother had decided that the term ‘housewife’ no longer applied to her. She had decided to take up some sort of job downtown, filing and taking calls for a small business owner named Paul. Stephen was pretty sure that it meant she was having an affair, but in all honesty, it was probably better for the family if she weren’t home all the time. His father was less volatile, and he had time to eat Grade E meat products and watch Heavy Metal 2000. It also gave him more time to spend with his dog Chico, hang out with his friends, and play his saxophone, without being disturbed.

The phone rang, breaking Stephen out of his reverie. He wrestled with his messy taco and leaned over his sleeping Chihuahua, to grab up the phone. “‘ello?” He said through a mouthful of food.

“Hmm… That was pleasant. What are you doing?” It was that short, clippy, feminine voice that greeted him every day around five o’clock. tephtephen swallowed and smiled. “Nothing much. How you doin’?” He stuffed the rest of his food in his mouth and swallowed as fast as he could, without choking.

“Heh. Want to come over for dinner? My dad is making…” There was silence for a minute, where Stephen was sure that the receiver was being covered by a small hand with long elegant fingers. “…chicken something, with angel hair pasta, and alfredo sauce. It most likely sucks, but you probably won’t die.”

“I heard that.” Another, more masculine, voice filtered in from the background.

Stephen laughed and shook his head. The whole time he had known Andrea, she had been unusually harsh about her father. He had never met the man, but he was sure he couldn’t be as bad as his parents. His mother with her neurotic outbursts and his father with his drunken, long winded yelling fights with the invisible men, in the basement. No, Mr. Davidson couldn’t even begin to compare with his parents.

“Sure, about what time?” Stephen reached for a napkin and accidentally leaned to far onto the dog. It yelped and ran off his bed and down the hallway.

“Around six. Don’t bring the dog, though. I like him, but Alec would rather have me whoring myself on the street, than an animal in the house.”

There were sounds of protests coming from the other side of the line, and Stephen started to wonder what he got himself into. “I’ll be there around 6:30, okay? My dad is playing poker tonight, and he has friends coming over that I would prefer not to meet up with.”

Andrea chuckled. “They just like to mess with pretty boys.”

“Well, I don’t like to mess with old, drunken, hillbilly men.” Stephen sighed and watched the bedroom door, for any sign of Chico. A few seconds later, the little dog stuck his head in the doorway and sniffed the air. “Could I bring Chico, if I tie him up outside? I don’t like leaving him here.”

Andrea was silent for a moment and then cleared her throat. “Yeah, bring him along. The next-door neighbor has a four year old, though. So, we have to put him somewhere inconspicuous or the little monster will try to eat him.”

Chico hopped up on Stephen’s bed and nudged his master’s hand. Stephen idly pet the pup, and agreed that they could find a place for him. “I’ll see you in an hour or so, ‘kay?”

“Okay.”

There was a click and silence. Stephen lay back in his bed and sighed, while switching off his telephone. Andrea didn’t ever say goodbye. It wasn’t in her nature and he understood that, but it made the conversation stop without any sense of closure.

Stephen swung his legs over the side of his bed and looked down at his dog. “Want to go see Andy?” The puppy hopped up and wiggled its little butt, before jumping on the floor and running outside, into the hall. “She doesn’t even like you, and you love her more than me. I’ll never understand.” It didn’t really hurt his feelings that his dog liked Andrea better than him. She w gir girl and she smelled good. Dogs responded to that type of stimulation.

Stephen followed the same pathway as the dog, but took a detour to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and took in his appearance. Some days he hated his floppy blonde hair and baby blue eyes. They made him look slightly feminine and they drew in the wrong people. Earlier that day the head cheerleader had practically begged him to take her, and he would have rather chopped off his own balls than to even kiss that skank.

Stephen felt the stubble on his chin and frowned. He was shaving every morning and it was still coming in every afternoon. He was only eighteen and he had to shave just as much as his father. The funny thing was that his beard came in almost brown, when he naturally was sunshine blonde. Andrea told him he resembled one of the guys from GQ magazine, especially when he wore his blue blazer and a casual dress shirt, with jeans, and he sported a five o’clock shadow. So, he liked to dress nice…

Stephen sighed and took a step back. His shoulders were broad and his torso whittled down to a nice thin waistline. He was 5’11” and he wore his muscles like a runner, not a weight lifter. He had been scrawny, even slight, as a child, but as he got older he filled out into a more attractive young man. The football coach was always begging him to join the team and learn how to run the ball.

Stephen’s dad had been a Quarterback, back in the days of yore, but that wasn’t Stephen’s thing. He liked theater and music classes. He enjoyed Psychology and English Literature. He had all A’s, except for one in Home Economics. He couldn’t bake a cake for crap and he was butterfingers, when it came to sewing. The only thing that was going to keep him in a B status was that stupid electronic baby that he was supposed to get next week.

Stephen laughed every time he thought about his situation. The guys in his class had given him hell about being the Sen Senior, as well as the only guy, in Home Economics. He just laughed it off when they made gay jokes and poked fun at him learning how to be a ‘ lit little wife’. Damn it, if they weren’t true, though. Stephen would have probably felt better about it, if he were absolutely certain on his own sexual preference, but when you weren’t a raving womanizer like most eighteen year olds and you had never felt the need to have a girlfriend for every week, you started to consider other possibilities.

It wasn’t that he had never felt attracted to girls. He certainly found Andrea attractive enough, and he had had that one fling with the student teacher, earlier in his last semester of Eleventh grade. Yeah, it had been dangerous, but she had possibly been the most exotic and interesting creature Stephen had ever met. He had just felt compelled to love her in every way. Since then, though, he hadn’t had any girlfriends and he had definitely been interested in a few of his ‘less feminine’ counterparts. Namely, Chris Wallace, the lead tenor in his chorus class.

Stephen stooped to pick up his toothbrush and put some toothpaste on it. He brushed his teeth for a few minutes and looked around his bathroom. It was tidy, except for that small pile of clothing his dad had pitched in there. The washing machine was two feet difference from that little area on the floor, but somehow the clothes always managed to land in the same place. Maybe his bad sense of direction was why his dad had missed that scholarship for college. Stephen chuckled and almost gagged on his toothbrush. He turned on the faucet, leaned down to get some water, and spit out the toothpaste.

After tossing his toothbrush to the side, he smoothed a wrinkle out of his tee shirt and smirked at his reflection. He was wearing faded blue corduroys that were almost light violet, a black shirt sporting Ziggy Stardust, and a pair of Doc Martens that should ret retired back in 1980. He was in a comfortable glam punk look, and he was pretty sure that he should leave before his dad’s friends congregated in his living room and started grabbing the boy into their inane card games.

He headed into the hallway, after picking up his wallet in the bathroom, and stuffing it in his back pocket. He went down the hallway and ran down the stairs, grabbing his keys off of a key hook, next to the front door. Before he could make it out of the front door safely, his father stopped him.

“Where’re ya goin’?” The man leaned on the kitchen doorframe and crossed his arms across his chest. He looked equally pissed and drunk.

“Andrea wants me to come visit for a while. I should be home before late.” Stephen bit his lower lip. “You want me to pick you up some beers or tortilla chips for tonight?”

Stephens’s dad sniffed and shrugged. The pissed look was gone and replaced with a despondent stare. “You go’ awn. Jeff’ll bring’em. Doget’get’er pregnant. It ruins ya’.”

Stephen nodded, and called the dog, before walking outside and shutting the door behind him. “Like I ruined you, dad?” Stephen sighed, as he was getting into his car. He waited and looked toward the house, when the dog popped through the doggie door and bounded toward his car. After the dog jumped in, he, he revved up the engine and pulled out of the drive. The Oldsmobile wasn’t as big of a piece onk ank as it looked. It drove well and had quite a few miles left on it.

Stephen stopped by Wal-Mart to pick something up, before heading over to Andrea’s. He stopped in her driveway and called her his cell phone. “Hello, lovely.”

“Where are you?” Andrea sounded annoyed, as per usual.

Stephen grinned and shook his head. “In your driveway.” Chico jumped in his lap and bit at his stomach, hoping for some attention.

Andrea appeared in the doorway of her house, only seconds later, phone in hand. “You’re an ass.” She stated, still into the phone.

Stephen chuckled and turned his phone off, before brushing the dog out of his lap, stepping out of his car, and flinging his arms wide. “I come bearing gifts.” He held out a hand, which possessed a bouquet of flowers, and grinned infectiously.

Andrea turned off her phone and dropped her hand to her side. She walked up to the boy and gave him a hug, before allowing her scowl to break into a smile. “You’re a very generous ass. Thank you.”

Stephen hugged the girl and sighed. “Everybody likes flowers, when they are asked out to dinner.”

Andrea shook her head. “I was supposed to get you flowers, ya’ schmuck.” She stepped of of her friend’s embrace and headed back up her porch and into the house, Stephen and Chico in tow. Stephen stooped down and tied Chico to the front porch post, before following Andrea inside. “My dad went on a blind date last night and his date gave him an ugly vase instead of flowers. Said that flowers die, so they wouldn’t be able to express…” Andrea waved her hand in an aggravated fashion. “I dunno’. It was pretty dorky.”

“I thought it was charming and… quixotic, if you will.” A voice that could only be Andrea’s father drifted in from the kitchen. “The vase isn’t ugly either.”

“You probably gave it away on the first date, didn’t you? That little ploy made you give it up on the first date!” Andrea gasped in mock horror and started up the stairs for her room.

Sen fen followed his friend up to her room and sighed when she shut the door in his face. It was routine. She had to have two minutes to clean up her room, i.e. shove everything in the closet, before he was allowed to come in. Stephen waited patiently, and listened to the girl shuffle around her bedroom.

“Tell her to let you in.”

Stephen jumped at the unexpected voice and turned to find Andrea’s father looking at him. The man smiled pleasantly and leaned past Stephen, to knock on the door. “Andrea, let your friend inside.”

Stephen almost shivered at the close proximity of Andrea’s dad. Stephen could smell the man’s aftershave and he was prettre tre that he could catch a whiff of Chianti on his breath. He had never truly met Andrea’s dad. He had only seen him from afar. Up close, he realized how attractive he was and it had instantly put him on edge.

“No, I have to fix something first.” Andrea’s tone of voice left no room for discussion.

Mr. Davidson nodded and sighed. He took a step back and motioned for Stephen to follow him back downstairs. “Sorry about that. She’s a lot like her mother was.”

Stephen owedowed the older man downstairs and tried to shake of the uneasy feeling he had gotten outside of Andrea’s bedroom. “I’m sure she was a lovely woman, then.”

Mr. Davidson chuckled. “You’re a flatterer. You can save it, though. Andy is still upstairs, being neurotic about her bedroom.” The man sighed and took a seat on the couch. “You can sit down, Stephen.” The older man smiled cordially and watched the boy sit down, shakily. What was making him so nervous? “So, Andrea tells me that you sing and act. Do you plan on being a Liberal Arts major?”

Stephen shook his head. “I’m going to become an editor at my uncle’s publishing company. I probably won’t even have to finish college, if I just get the necessary English credits. My uncle doesn’t care if you are qualified, as long as you are qualified in his eyes.”

Mr. Davidson sat back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. He didn’t seem to approve of this answer, but he said nothing of it. After a moment, the man just sighed and shrugged. “So, you enjoy English enough to become an editor, eh?” The older man grinned again and showed a set of straight pearly teeth. The smile almost seemed to reach his gray, almond shaped eyes.

Stephen had to physically shake off the enchanted feeling that was setting over him. Of all the people in the world to be attracted to, why…

“You stole my friend.” Andrea stood at the foot of the stairway, putting on a horrendous pout.

Mr. Davidson smirked and shrugged a shoulder. “You didn’t seem to want him, and I’m always starving for company.”

Andrea shot Stephen a look and rolled her eyes. “Don’t believe him. He’s a huge slut.”

Andrea’s father shook his head and leaned toward Stephen conspiratorially. “r onr on, I plan on getting her back by showing you her baby pictures. Would you enjoy watching her squirm over that?”

Stephen nodded and mentally grinned. At least Mr. Davidsod hid his own special way of dealing with his daughter. Stephen had had to make a system himself, before he could truly enjoy Andrea’s company. She was a very difficult girl to get along with.

Andrea huffed and shook her head. “I took back all the ones you had of me sleeping. That’s just weird. Nobody should take pictures of anybody else while they are sleeping.”

Mr. Davidson shook his head. “Don’t your parents have any pictures of you sleeping, Stephen?”

Stephen shrugged. “My mom wasn’t much of a photographer, but I have an ex who took pictures of me while I slept.” Stephulleulled a face. “I’m pretty sure that your pictures weren’t like those, though. I mean… I wasn’t a baby or anything.”

Andrea scoffed. “You were probably just as naked, though.”

Stephen felt faceface go red. Usually Andy couldn’t make him so embarrassed, but… her dad was in the room, for God’s sake. “Andy…” Stephen gave his friend a pleading look and the girl instantaneously shut her mouth. “Another thing about Andrea was that she didn’t apologize. She was repentant, because you could see it in her eyes. She just didn’t vocalize it. “It’s okay, Andy.”

Andrea bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “I came downstairs for aspirin.”

“Are you hurt?” Mr. Davidson pushed himself up from his seat and walked over to inspect his child.

Andrea pulled a face and grunted. “I don’t have any ‘boo boos’, so stop with the mother henning. I need the aspirin for the flowers that Stephen brought me. They’ll live longer.”

Mr. Davidson sighed and went back to his seat on the couch. “They are in the cabinet, in the bathroom.” Andrea left for the aspirin, once again leaving the two men alone. “I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

Stephen tried, but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “I’m sorry, but… half of the time, I know she hates me and I’m her best friend. You can’t let it get to you.”

The older man half smirked and shrugged a shoulder. He leaned against the couch arm and rolled his neck from side to side. “It’s very difficult to live with a person who doesn’t like you, and it is even more difficult to live with a person that doesn’t have any love for you. It’s truly heartbreaking when it’s your ohildhild, though.”

Stephen didn’t know what to say. He loved his parents, even if they were the world’s biggest bitches, most of the time. He tried to do right by them, as often as was humanly possible, even if it meant sacrificing something he loved to do to make them happy. He tried to be the good neighbor, the ‘boy next door’, and the cordial host, when his mother and father weren’t up to it. He couldn’t begin to understand where Andrea’s disdain for her father came from. All he knew was that she was, admittedly, not a very understanding person and, in his opinion, she was way too hard on her dad.

“I wish I had never said that.” The older man’s voice, once again, broke Stephen’s line of thought. “I hope to never see you make that kicked dog expression, again. You look absolutely pathetic and utterly pitiful.”

Stephen smirked. “I guess all of us have a little bit of sadness that we hide from the outside world, huh?”

Mr. Davidson nodded. “We all have our little bits that we prefer to keep to ourselves, yes.”

Stephen looked from the man’s soulful eyes, to his chocolate brown hair. It was short and well trimmed, with a few gray hairs speckled in around his temples. They were probably the only things that gave in to his real age. The man had few wrinkles and even fewer frown lines. His skin was tan and smooth, and it covered lovely planes and nice high cheekbones. Stephen idly pondered on whether Andrea’s dad ho sho shave every morning or not. He wasn’t even developing a five o’clock shadow, and it was nearing six thirty.

Mr. Davidson watched the boy and realized that he was either being analyzed or checked out. He really wasn’t sure which, so he tried to keep his peace. “You’re a good listener, Stephen. I understand why Andrea likes you, so much.”

Stephen looked away, almost guiltily, and nodded. “We are best friends.”

The older man decided to test the waters just a little bit. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Stephen we are adults; so lets not play games. You and my daughter hang out almost every day and she spends the night at your house almost as much as she does here.” Mr. Davidson gave a mock sigh and nodded. “I would like to know where this is going and if I need to be expecting some untimely visitors anytime in the future, if you catch my dri

Stephen’s jaw dropped open and he shook his head. “Mr. Davidson, I would never…”

“Please call me Alec. We are both adults, after all.” Alec mentally kicked himself. Now, why did he keep stressing that point?

“Alec, I would never do anything like that with your daughter. She’s a lovely girl and I love her a lot, but I could never…” Stephen shut his mouth and bit his bottom lip. “I just couldn’t.”

Alec nodded and sighed. He had turned the boy from an interesting, well-spoken young man, into a babbling idiot. “I understand, Stephen. It’s all right.” Alec pushed himself up from his seat and sighed again. Sometimes he just felt so old. “I’m going to go check on the food. Why don’t you go get Andy and tell her that dinner is almost ready?”

Stephen did as he was told. He went upstairs to get his friend, but he stopped before knocking on her door. What exactly was it that Mr. Dav… Alec understood?

TBC…

-If you want more, you’ll review. If you liked it say yay, you didn’t say nay. I’ll be happy with as little or as much as you want to give.-
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I got the name of the story from a poem by none other than, e.e. cummings.

nothing false and possible is love
(who\'s imagined,therefore is limitless)
love\'s to giving as to keeping\'s give;
as yes is to if,love is to yes

must\'s a schoolroom in the month of may:
life\'s the deathboard where all now turns when
(love\'s a universe beyond obey
or command,reality or un-)

proudly depths above why\'s first because
(faith\'s last doubt and humbly heights below)
kneeling,we-true lovers-pray that us
will ourselves continue to outgrow

all whose mosts if you have known and i\'ve
only we our least begin to guess
…………………………………………….
Just thought you would like to know.