Dorado
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
1,711
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
1,711
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. All characters described in this story have no relation to any person living or deceased. Any resemblance is purely coincidental. All rights to this work belong to bajmoore. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Prologue
A/N: Woo! This is going to be a long story, so stick around! The fun’s only just started.
Please recommend this story!: http://www.tumblr.com/directory/recommend/creative%20writing/misol
*
prologue
“Come on, Grandpa! Even Mom can catch a football!”
Mason leaned heavily against the old pine tree, wheezing. “Well, your mother isn’t an old man who’s far past his prime. I’m almost half glad we can’t see the sun anymore: I’m roasting.” He tugged at his shirt collar for emphasis.
Drew laughed, a clear and joyful sound, before he came running across the yard. “But Mom’s a girl! And she plays a billion times better than you, Grandpa.”
“Well, way to hurt a poor man’s feelings!” Mason clapped a hand over his heart dramatically. “Did you know your mother played on the school football team in high school?”
“No!” Drew gaped. “So that’s why she’s so good! She never said anything about it.”
Mason ruffled his grandson’s hair, smiling. “That’s just how she is, Drew.”
“Boys! Hey!”
They both looked up towards the house, where a slight blond woman stood half hidden by the front screen door.
“Lunch is ready!” As if on cue, Drew’s stomach gave a particularly vicious rumble. He wrapped his arms around his middle, embarrassed, but Mason just patted him on the shoulder with a laugh.
Drew childishly stuck his tongue out at Mason before suddenly brightening. “I’ll race you to the house, Grandpa!” Without waiting for a reply, he shot off.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Mason groaned, before following at a slow jog. By the time he reached the front steps, Drew had already made himself comfortable on the stone slabs and was flipping through Mason’s wallet.
Ah, shi-…Mason panted lightly, dropping down heavily beside Drew.
“Who’s this?” Drew held up the worn wallet. Mason reached over and took it from him, smoothing a hand over the plastic protecting the tattered edges of the photo.
He sighed. Even though the photo had been in his wallet, it wasn’t often that he took it out to reminisce. Drew leaned heavily against his side to catch another look of the picture.
A younger Mason dominated the photo, sporting a grin that threatened to split his face in half. His arms were flung around another young man who was half-heartedly scowling at the camera, but his frown failed to cover the smile in his brown eyes.
Mason remembered when this photo had been taken; it had been one of those rare, sunny days, when the smog had cleared. Of course, that should have been enough of a warning.
“Grandpa?”
He scratched the edge of his jaw awkwardly. “It’s someone very special to me.”
“Special like Mom is to Dad?”
Mason snorted. “Observant little bugger, aren’t you?” He ruffled Drew’s hair before the boy could squirm away.
“Don’t call my son names, Dad.”
He jumped, nearly dropping the wallet. “Jeez, Andrea,” he said, twisting at the waist to glare at her. “I swear you’re trying to give me a heart attack.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been trying for years, Dad. You just won’t die.”
Mason gasped in mock horror. “Why is everyone so mean to me?” he whined, and Drew laughed uproariously.
Andrea smiled. “Get inside and wash up for lunch, Drew.” The boy nodded, and squeezed past his mother to disappear inside. Mason stood at much more leisurely pace, brushing the dirt off of his trousers with careful flicks. When he moved to follow Drew inside, Andrea stepped in front of him, letting the screen door slam shut behind her.
She frowned at the wallet in his hand. “It’s him again, isn’t it?” she accused. “Why do you keep his photo next to Mom’s?”
“I loved your mother very much, Andrea,” Mason said with a tired smile. This wasn’t a new argument. “But some things…”
Andrea laid a comforting hand on his arm. “Dad, it’s been years. You’ve had a family, grandkids even. Don’t you think it’s time to let go?”
“It- It’s hard to explain.” Mason sighed and made shooing motions with his hands. “Come on, let’s go in for lunch.” He held the screen door open as he ushered Andrea inside. She shot him another worried look that promised it was far from over and complied.
He was halfway through the door when Mason paused. One foot was on the metal frame and the other on the shaggy welcome mat; he froze as a chill traveled up his spine. Slowly, Mason blinked and turned to look over his shoulder.
Please recommend this story!: http://www.tumblr.com/directory/recommend/creative%20writing/misol
*
prologue
“Come on, Grandpa! Even Mom can catch a football!”
Mason leaned heavily against the old pine tree, wheezing. “Well, your mother isn’t an old man who’s far past his prime. I’m almost half glad we can’t see the sun anymore: I’m roasting.” He tugged at his shirt collar for emphasis.
Drew laughed, a clear and joyful sound, before he came running across the yard. “But Mom’s a girl! And she plays a billion times better than you, Grandpa.”
“Well, way to hurt a poor man’s feelings!” Mason clapped a hand over his heart dramatically. “Did you know your mother played on the school football team in high school?”
“No!” Drew gaped. “So that’s why she’s so good! She never said anything about it.”
Mason ruffled his grandson’s hair, smiling. “That’s just how she is, Drew.”
“Boys! Hey!”
They both looked up towards the house, where a slight blond woman stood half hidden by the front screen door.
“Lunch is ready!” As if on cue, Drew’s stomach gave a particularly vicious rumble. He wrapped his arms around his middle, embarrassed, but Mason just patted him on the shoulder with a laugh.
Drew childishly stuck his tongue out at Mason before suddenly brightening. “I’ll race you to the house, Grandpa!” Without waiting for a reply, he shot off.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Mason groaned, before following at a slow jog. By the time he reached the front steps, Drew had already made himself comfortable on the stone slabs and was flipping through Mason’s wallet.
Ah, shi-…Mason panted lightly, dropping down heavily beside Drew.
“Who’s this?” Drew held up the worn wallet. Mason reached over and took it from him, smoothing a hand over the plastic protecting the tattered edges of the photo.
He sighed. Even though the photo had been in his wallet, it wasn’t often that he took it out to reminisce. Drew leaned heavily against his side to catch another look of the picture.
A younger Mason dominated the photo, sporting a grin that threatened to split his face in half. His arms were flung around another young man who was half-heartedly scowling at the camera, but his frown failed to cover the smile in his brown eyes.
Mason remembered when this photo had been taken; it had been one of those rare, sunny days, when the smog had cleared. Of course, that should have been enough of a warning.
“Grandpa?”
He scratched the edge of his jaw awkwardly. “It’s someone very special to me.”
“Special like Mom is to Dad?”
Mason snorted. “Observant little bugger, aren’t you?” He ruffled Drew’s hair before the boy could squirm away.
“Don’t call my son names, Dad.”
He jumped, nearly dropping the wallet. “Jeez, Andrea,” he said, twisting at the waist to glare at her. “I swear you’re trying to give me a heart attack.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been trying for years, Dad. You just won’t die.”
Mason gasped in mock horror. “Why is everyone so mean to me?” he whined, and Drew laughed uproariously.
Andrea smiled. “Get inside and wash up for lunch, Drew.” The boy nodded, and squeezed past his mother to disappear inside. Mason stood at much more leisurely pace, brushing the dirt off of his trousers with careful flicks. When he moved to follow Drew inside, Andrea stepped in front of him, letting the screen door slam shut behind her.
She frowned at the wallet in his hand. “It’s him again, isn’t it?” she accused. “Why do you keep his photo next to Mom’s?”
“I loved your mother very much, Andrea,” Mason said with a tired smile. This wasn’t a new argument. “But some things…”
Andrea laid a comforting hand on his arm. “Dad, it’s been years. You’ve had a family, grandkids even. Don’t you think it’s time to let go?”
“It- It’s hard to explain.” Mason sighed and made shooing motions with his hands. “Come on, let’s go in for lunch.” He held the screen door open as he ushered Andrea inside. She shot him another worried look that promised it was far from over and complied.
He was halfway through the door when Mason paused. One foot was on the metal frame and the other on the shaggy welcome mat; he froze as a chill traveled up his spine. Slowly, Mason blinked and turned to look over his shoulder.