Hey you guys. Sorry this took so long. I've had writer's block for one and then there's school. School has redefined the meaning of nightmare. I've been swamped with homework up to my ears. And it's only the second day. Anyway, this chapter really isn't all that interesting, I just had it in mind and wanted to write it anyway. Because it makes me fuzzy. :)
Lillei--Definitely not the end. As you can see. :P I'm stupid. Um, anyway, it's like exactly 2/3 of the way done. And then there's the sequel. :D I'm glad you like it so much.
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Travis Michalchuk pulled the mini-van into the dark driveway of his house and released his wife's hand, cutting off the ignition and climbing out.
He and his wife had gone out for a little date that evening. They rarely ever got a chance for a little alone time anymore what with their children, work, and the occasional hockey match, so tonight had been wonderful. His mood was still very high over it.
He looked over at his wife. Only one thing had brought his mood down a bit. Over dinner his wife had mentioned that Paige had told her Dylan was seeing someone.
When his son had first come out to him he had been in a state of shock. He remembered he had had to leave the room even. The idea of his pride and joy, his masculine, smart, star hockey player of a son...being gay, was a bit mind boggling to say the least.
Three days he had debated within himself, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. How his prized, perfect son had ended up a flaming homo. Had he spent too much time playing with him as a child? Had they not pushed him enough when he was younger?
Three days he watched him. Watched his interactions with his male friends like Cale, and slowly he came to realize his son's sexuality really didn't affect his life as much as he had assumed it should have. He was a normal teenager, with friends and a place on the hockey team. A teenager who struggled in his math classes and went to the movies or the arcade on weekends. He was completely and utterly normal. Dylan just happened to prefer men. That was all.
Three days later...the silence ended. Three days later...his son's sexuality didn't seem to matter anymore.
Travis threw his keys in the bowl that sat on the little table in the entry way. He watched his wife wander into the kitchen out the corner of his eye, tugging off her high heels as she went. He hurriedly looking to the floor, blinking when the blinding light flooded into the hallway when she flipped the switch in the other room.
Still rubbing tiredly at his eyes, he began the treck to his room, shrugging out of his coat as he went......only to stop dead in the living room, eyes bugging out slightly.
He did a double-take. Staring into the darkness he made out a pale shape on the couch. No mistaking that head of curls that were shining in the moonlight from the window on the far wall.
It was Dylan. And he wasn't alone.
Interest piqued, Travis crept closer. It was the boy from earlier that evening, when he had come home from work. The boy his wife had told him Dylan was dating. The one he had found talking to Paige quietly on the couch when he had gotten home that night while Dylan and Spinner had been playing video games on the floor.
Gazing down at the moonlit bathed boys, he cocked his head slightly to the right....and really looked at them. Dylan had a hand buried in this Marco boy's dark hair and every few seconds he would subconciously run his fingers through it...as if he had to make sure the other boy was there even in his sleep.
But what really got him...was the gentle smile on his son's face. It was...heartbreaking in a way. Completely and utterly ungaurded....like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like for once in his life he was happier than he had ever been before. Like he was on top of the world.
The fact that this smile could hold so many emotions...while he was asleep no less, made the impact so much more real for him. His son was apparently feeling something for this boy that was earth-shattering. Out of this world. Mind-blowing.
Travis leaned back on his heels, as if he'd been blown back by a strong breeze, and tried to sort this out. What does he do? Wake them up? Marco needed to go home sometime he supposed. But then again...seeing something this phenomenal doesn't come around everyday.
He'd worry about it later. He cast a big, warm smile down at the sleeping boys and scurried off to the kitchen. "Honey, come here. You need to see something." he whispered to his wife, finding her at the sink washing dishes, her hair falling in her face. She looked up bewildered but did dry off her hands on a dish towel and follow him into the darkness of the den.
Upon reaching the couch she let out a little gasp of surpise and grabbed her husband's arm in a death grip, grinning like a lunatic. "Travis!" she whispered in a breathy tone of voice. "Look at them! Look at Dylan! Aww, it's so sweet. He really looks happy, even in his sleep."
Travis looked down at his son, silent for several moments, thinking to himself. Yes his son did look happy. That was what was getting at him so much. No matter how many times he had always told himself he was over his son's persuasion, in all actuality he still had more than a little stereotypical prejudice lurking inside him. But seeing him...seeing him like this, happy...with a boy. It was definitely a slap of reality. One that he perhaps should be very thankful for.
"Do you think we should wake them up? It's almost midnight?" she asked still clinging to his arm and quietly cooing at the two boys.
Travis kissed her on the forehead and resumed his little gazing session/epiphany. "No, I don't think so. Let them sleep. You said Marco was home alone this week anyway right? It won't hurt. If Dylan's mature enough to sleep in here instead of in his room, then I trust him with this."
Casting a last glance down at the boys he turned to his wife. "What do you say we go to bed too, hm?" he whispered, kissing her softly. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders he guided her away from the couch, to their bedroom, throwing one last look over his shoulder.
He whispered to the darkness before entering his bedroom. To Dylan. To Marco. To his wife. To himself.
"He has my blessing."
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Um, gosh this is embarrassing. Vixen-Dragon16 asked if I was gonna put a sex scene in this story. So here I am asking for a show of hands. Sex scene? Yay or Nay? Majority rules. Do keep in mind that said scene would be short, sweet, to the point, and incredibly vague. Probably not even going to be until the sequel. For I am pathetic and can hardly write them kissing. Anyway, let your voice be heard. Vote!
Read! Review! It's fun! And educational! o.0 Okay, maybe not. But still!
