By Star
Fulton's POVI wake up with a headache that comes from too much crying. I was hoping sleep would get rid of it, but it's still there.
Portman's still sleeping, breathing deeply but not snoring, his arm thrown over me. We fell asleep in his bed last night. I can't believe his parents are so welcoming. They've not just accepted us as couple, but are completely delighted. Mrs Portman's words last night overwhelmed me.
If only my own mother could have been half as kind.
I desperately need a drink and some painkillers, but Portman's showing no signs of waking. I kiss his forehead and ease out of his embrace.
After getting dressed I wander downstairs and find Mrs P making coffee. "You want a cup?" She asks with a smile.
"Yes please. Do you have any painkillers?"
She looks at me appraisingly. "Those bruises bothering you, son?"
Strangely I had forgotten about that. The schmuck who said 'sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me' should have been me yesterday. He would have quickly seen the error of his words. "Headache." I tell her.
"Have a seat."
I obediently take a seat and she bustles around getting me coffee, painkillers and a glass of water to take them with. Then she brings her own mug over and sits opposite me.
"I'm calling your parents today." She tells me.
"You don't want me here?" I ask, knowing that this was too good to be true.
She puts her hand on my arm. "Actually, I like having you here. You get Dean out from under my feet. But I think your parents would like to know that you're safe."
"You didn't hear what they said." I tell her.
"No matter how mad I was I'd always want to know where Dean was and how he was doing." She says firmly. "You don't have to talk to them. I've a good mind to give them a piece of my mind about those bruises," she squeezes my arm as I start to protest. "But I suppose it's your business not mine."
I think about this. Maybe they've calmed down overnight. Maybe they're sorry but don't know where I am. "I'll call them." I tell her. "Thanks, Mrs P."
"You're a good kid. You're good for my big goon of a son." She ruffles my hair in a motherly way. She's always been nice to me when I've stayed before, but this time… words can't say how much her kindness means to me.
Mr P shuffles in and heads straight for the coffee. He smiles at me. "I didn't get chance to thank you yesterday."
I frown a little in confusion. "Thank me?"
"You've saved me thousands of dollars. No marriage, no divorce, no grandchildren…"
I smile as he shakes my hand and tells me to keep making his son happy.
"They can always adopt. You might get grandchildren." Mrs P points out.
Mr P turns to her and tells her it's too soon to think about things like that.
I retreat a little, watching the scene unfold. Portman's parents are kind of perfect. They're happy together, they're happy having a gay son, and it's hard to stay depressed around them.
I feel a pair of arms slide around my waist and look over my shoulder to see Portman.
"You deserted me." He says reproachfully.
"You were hogging the covers." I respond. He wasn't, but he doesn't need to know that. "And you're Mom's coffee was calling to me."
"How are the parentals this morning?" He nods towards the bickering couple.
"Planning how many grandchildren you and I are going to adopt."
He rests his chin on my shoulder. "They're way too happy about this." He says. "Have they been at the drugs again?"
*~*~*~*~*
I pick up the phone and dial my number with shaking fingers. I flub it twice before getting it right. I feel all shaky, like I've just got off a roller coaster. I can't seem to catch my breath.
It rings four times before someone picks up.
"Hello?"
"Mom?"
I hear a deep sigh. "I don't have any children, so I find it deeply inappropriate for some queer to refer to me as 'Mom'."
At least she hasn't forgotten my voice already. For some reason this thought strikes me as highly amusing, although I know it's not funny at all. Again I can't seem to breathe. "Don't be like that. I'm your son." I plead.
"I've told you, I don't have any children. You're just some faggot."
And it hits me all of a sudden. I don't have parents any more. I drop the phone in shock, tears are pouring down my face.
Mrs P picks up the phone and starts talking to the woman that, until yesterday, I used to call Mom.
Portman takes my hand and leads me back to his room. I follow him numbly. I can't believe this is happening.
He shuts the door and wraps his arms around me and lets me cry on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry they're being like this." He says as he strokes my back to calm me. "If I could swap places with you, I would. I hate to see you hurting so much."
I cling tighter to him, he's the best thing in my life. One of the only things in my life.
"Is all this worth it?" I mumble into his shoulder.
Straight away I feel him tense up and I know it came out wrong.
I look up at him, he's blurred by my tears, but I can tell he's hurt. "I mean, I know you're worth it. You're the best thing in my life." I wipe my eyes and take in his relieved expression. "But is Eden Hall worth it?"
"You want to quit?" He asks in a soft voice.
I shrug, I'm not sure. I can't leave the Queertet, who knows what would happen if Portman and I weren't there to support them, because Portman would leave Eden Hall for me, I can see it in his eyes.
I give him the only answer I can.
"I want it to stop hurting."