'Finally, finally! Writer's block is a bitch, and I've had it for over a month now. Well, needless to say, I finally managed to finish the fic and believe you me, thank whatever God is listening it's finally done. I was so worried I would lose my muse entirely and never finish it, but let's just be happy that wasn't the case. I don't like how this chapter starts out. It's too melodramatic and I didn't really do my best, but it gets better towards the middle.
I know I sound silly saying this, but writing this fic really helped me overcome a few personal demons of mine, and I'm just glad I finished it. And I hope that you enjoy it, too.'
~Tobi
It feels like it's been years now. Since I officially came out, and cast off the black curtain of ignorance that my parents had been blinding me with since I was a child. Though, literally speaking it's only been about five months, I've aged - emotionally, anyway - almost beyond recognition. I've managed to retain my peppiness and hyperactivity at work, but I've been told that when away from the kitchen, I'm an entirely different being. A whole new entity in itself.
I assume I'll always bear the emotional scars left by them, and the memory of what they've said to me will never go away. But I know better than anyone that if anything ever happened to Mother and Father before I could make amends, a bit of me would die inside. I'd be forced to live with the fact that my parents died thinking I hated them hanging over my head, another burden to carry for the rest of my days. Another reason to hate myself.
Without Shea, I'd be dead right now. I wouldn't have made it through the months following my so-called 'awakening' had it not been for his compassion. And love.
I discovered that love isn't what I thought it was. It isn't a feeling that you can control, and the brutal reality is that being with Shea is, to me, the equivalent of smoking cocaine. I get this odd sort of natural high when I'm around him, and when he's gone, I crash - just like one would after a drug high. It's like the more time I spend with him, the more he just eats a hole in my heart, but I don't notice it because he just keeps filling it in with his love. But when he's not around, I can feel the gaping hole, just eating away at me.
He has this odd sort of sixth sense about him that allows him to know when when I need him the most. Back when I was contemplating taking my own life - something I hope I shall forget in my old age - he always showed up at just the right moment. But he never tried to comfort me with words; Shea wasn't raised to be a compassionate man, and I know that. He did what he did because he felt the need to protect me. He didn't feel comfortable doing it, but he did it for me. And that, I'll never forget.
Our first attempt at making love was a total disaster. needless to say. I know, I know - it's pathetic that I was still a virgin anyway, but I honestly had no idea it would be that painful. We couldn't even get the entire tip in without the both of us screaming in pain. So we practiced; first with a finger, then two, etc. until I could take him inside of me. I had figured that, being it was anal, I wouldn't feel anything, and that Shea would be the only one to enjoy it. I was so wrong.
It was like nothing I've ever felt before; the tight, hot feeling was uncomfortable at first but then he hit this certain spot and it made me go wild. I think I actually might have shocked him, how crazy with desire I got after that. He hardly couldn't leave my house without at least one romp in bed. Or the floor, whichever was more convenient at the time.
Ugh, look at me, writing trash like that. It's funny that half a year ago the very thought of that would have make me nauseous. I -
Shea knocks on the door, interrupting my thoughts, and I jump violently, knocking my ice tea over and barely getting out of the way in time to save my bathrobe from getting stained. "Come in!" I call out, scowling and setting my papers on the bed stand. He lets himself inside, and grins at me.
"Morning, Wonka. Spill?"
"Yeah." I say, my anger melting as I glance up at him standing over me. On my hands and knees now and scrubbing at the carpet with a dish towel, he gets down next to me.
"Shea do it, Wonka go sit down."
Curious, I hand him the rag and go to sit on the bed. I watch Shea as he avidly scrubs away at the carpet until he's gotten the majority of the tea out of it. He goes over and grabs a few paper towels to wipe the tea off the table; all of this he does quickly and hurriedly before sitting next to me on the bed, as if he has something to tell me. He scoots over close to me, our legs touching and gently gives me a kiss on the cheek. I flush bright red, and he smiles warmly. "Wonka feel better?"
I shift my legs to get more comfortable and reply, "Yeah. A lot better, actually." Last night had been pretty rough for me. I had received a call from my sister, Paprika.
Shea's eyes lit up. "Okay, follow! Have to show something!"
I hear what he says, but I don't move. I just keep thinking about last night.
I hadn't heard from her in years; she had refused the family trade and wanted to become a musician instead, so of course Mother and Father were not on good terms with her. At first I figured she was going to tell me off, as my brothers had months before when they heard of me from my parents. At the sound of her voice I cringed, waiting for the hateful words to come tumbling out of her mouth. But; they didn't.
"H- Hello, is Pierre at home?" she said.
I froze up, and clenched the phone tightly. "Y-yes, this is him... Paprika, is that you?"
She laughed. I immediately remembered that laugh - light, and kinda tingly. Like it belonged to someone much younger than she. How I had missed that laugh since she left. "Yeah, it's me." There was a long silence that followed, and I twirled the phone cord between my fingers. "I heard from Ma and Dad..." Another one of her peculiarities. She was the only one of us kids who dared to call Mother and Father by anything other than their respectful titles. Another silence. I could hear her delicate breathing, it was so quiet in the house right then. I don't know how long I waiting before I heard the first light sob, followed by several more, much louder ones.
"Paprika - what's wrong?" I asked, eyes wide. Did I really hurt her that bad? Was she crying over it, just like Mother had? "Oh my God... I'm so sorry... I'm sorry that it has to be like this but i can't lie to myself anymore -"
"Me too."
"..." I just stood there, not able to wrap my mind about what she had said. "W-what?"
She cried a few more minutes, and I could hear her sniffling and wiping her nose on something. "Me too," she repeated, letting out another sob. "Me too..." I still couldn't understand it, just couldn't contemplate it. And then it hit me.
"Oh my God..."
"I never knew... I-I never realized until I heard about you, Per-Per..." she said, calling me by old nickname, which I hadn't heard since I was twelve. "All the horrible relationships with the men, the mixed feelings, the booze, the drugs, it just all makes sense now... I was lying to myself, just like I assume you were. I can't believe I was so stupid..." Her sobs were starting to subside now, and she was speaking much more clearly. "I can't believe I was so stupid... I'm sorry about what Ma and Dad said, Per-Per, I'm so sorry. I know how much it hurt you. Wait, no, I guess I don't... I mean I wanted to be a musician, but this..."
I took and deep breath, and swallowed. "Paprika..." That was all I could possible get out before she started sobbing again. As she once again began to calm down, I continued, "Thank you so much..." A trail of hot tears tore a path down my face, and I blinked them away, choking back the sobs that would inevitably come. "Thank you..."
"Can - can you help me... tell them?"
I locked up again. I licked my lips nervously, and clenched the phone tighter again. "Paprika... I don't know. I don't know if Mother and Father will even talk to me at the moment, I mean, they really don't -"
She sighed, but it was really more of a growl. She took another deep breath. "You know what, Pierre, you have to stop hiding from them. You're a grown man, you can stand up to them now, you don't have to live under their oppression anymore!" After another short silence, "I'm sorry. I know you've gone through a lot of late, but... I need you for this. Please."
I could picture her bright green eyes watering. "I'm sorry, but I can't do it. I... I just can't."
"Well... bye." And she hung up. It happened so quick; I didn't expect her to just give up like that. I was more than shocked.
As I hung up the phone, my eyes immediately drifted to the floor. I felt worthless.
I snap back to the present as Shea puts an arm around me and pulls me even closer. I feel his hot breath on my neck and look down again. I don't deserve him, and I know it. I try to shift away from him, but he just pulls me in again. I give up, and lean my head against his should, closing my eyes. "I'm sorry."
Shea cocks an eyebrow and looks confused? "What for?"
"For being such a spineless good-for-nothing piece of trash."
"Spineless? But Wonka have spine, right here -" He traces a finger down the middle of my back, sending a tingling sensation throughout my body. I can't help but laugh. He always manages to make me feel better, no matter what mood I'm in. "And what 'piece of trash' mean? Wonka smell good. No one throw you away."
"You take everything so literally," I say with a laugh, and open my eyes again.
He smiles, even though it's obvious he didn't understand a word I just said. "See, feel better now. Now come, show you something!" He practically jerks me off the bed and pulls me out the door, his face still broke out in a wide grin. He starts to run and I trip, dragging my leg against the ground for a second before he pulls me back up and apologizes, blushing in embarrassment. He continues to walk, but briskly, so that I can still barely keep up with him. "Wonka like. Wada get present for." I raise my eyebrows and try to think as he keeps pulling me along. Wada? What would he be giving me anything for? I open my mouth to ask but he immediately silences me by putting a rough, callused finger to my lips. "Shh. Find out when get there. No ruin suh-prise." I smile at the way he says 'surprise' and keep my mouth shut the rest of the way there. We reach the hut and Shea stops and knocks on the door - which is really unusual, being he usually just barges right in. We wait for a few minutes, and for a moment I could just barely hear the sound of someone crying. A while after it stops, Wada opens the door, beaming at the sight of us.
"It ready... Come in..." he says. I can tell he's holding something back by the way he keeps staring at me and smiling, like he knows something I don't. Well, of course he does, it's a surprise. And besides, he just looks... different. I can't put my finger on it. "... Quiet, keep very very quiet..."
We walk inside, and I immediately sense a change in the atmosphere. There isn't a sign of smoke in the entire hut, and the entire place has been scrubbed clean. That was why Wada looked different - he was so clean. Even the weapons and shields hanging up on the wall glistened brightly. I guess I never really realized just how dirty this place was until they cleaned it.
"You cleaned house?" I ask, then realize how rude I just sounded. I begin to apologize but stop, as I see Wada and Shea both beam at each other with pride.
"That not it. Wada says he get us present. Shea not see it yet." Shea puts another arm across my shoulders and pulls me in close. "Wada say us not get it till Shea give you this," He puts his free hand into his bag and pulls something small and blue out of it.
At first my mind doesn't even let me realize what it is. Shea sucks in his breath and holds it as I stare in amazement at it, trying to convince myself that it's really there. I just can't seem to do it. I know what it is, but at the same time my brain is telling me 'No, don't let yourself be fooled! This could never happen to you!'
I guess I don't realize how long it's been, because Shea clenches his fist with it in it and looks down. "Sorry..." he says. "Too soon?"
"No!" I blurt it out so fast that I surprise even myself. After another moment's hesitation I add, "Wait... let me see it again."
Slowly, he uncurls his fist and I see it for what it truly is. A blue feather. My vision goes hazy, and I pitch forward, closing my eyes. Shea catches me just in time and pulls me back up, shaking me a bit to bring me back to reality. "Oh my god..." is all I can say at the moment. I feel my legs go weak underneath me and I hold onto him to stabilize myself. "Oh my god..." I force myself to look up at him, and his black eyes, normally strong and determined, at this moment look weak and afraid. I put my hand in his and feel the softness of the feather between our interlocking fingers. "I want to so bad... but it's illegal. We can't," I feel the tears coming, and as one slides down my face Shea wipes it away. I had never even thought of this until this moment. We might be free to love, but not to make this commitment. I don't think I've ever felt a feeling this strong in my life - and I don't even know what feeling this is. Betrayal? It doesn't make sense, but that's what it feels like. I guess inside I was hoping this would never come up.
Shea looks at me, confused. "Ill-egal?" he says, drawing the syllables out and rolling the word around his mouth. Apparently he hasn't ever heard that word before.
"It means we can't do it. It's against the law."
Shea and Wada look at each other, and neither of them look as if they understand a word I just said. "Why?" asks Shea, looking back at me, black eyes sparkling. "Make no sense. Wonka say people get marrey-ed all time."
"Yeah, but only a man and a woman..."
"Make no sense. Take."
"But Shea I can't, it's agai-"
He stares at me for a few moments, his gaze intense. "Not matter. Be part of tribe anyway."
I carefully took the feather from him hand, too shocked to even cry. Does this count as being married? Or is it his tribe's equivalent of it, which makes it legal? To tell the truth, at this point I don't care. I look up at him, and immediately he envelopes me in a suffocating bear hug. He lets go and dashes over to the table, where there is an assortment of powders and random objects. In his excitement he knocks a bowl of black powder onto the floor and Wada growls, pointing at it and telling him to pick it up. After cleaning it up, he begins to help Shea apply all the accessories and face paint for the ceremony. Then I remember that I'm wearing a bath robe and squeal, causing both of them to jump. "Oh God, I can't get married - or bound - or whatever like this, let me just -" Shea grabs my leg from his position on the floor and stops me. He looks at Wada for a moment, considering something, and then wipes the paint off his face and removes any accessories that he had already adorned.
"Just like this," he says, standing up and taking my hands. Wada looks up at him and beams, then picks up a bowl of greenish black fluid that looks somewhat like ink. He walks back over to us and stops.
"Shea, promise protect and care for Pie-er?"
I flinch. I hadn't known it was going to be so sudden. "Yes," says Shea plainly, simply, casting a spare glance my way and smiling.
"Pie-er, promise love and stay loyal to Shea?"
The inside of my throat is dry, and my heart is beating a million miles an hour. Everything that has happened in my life was nothing but another event that led up to this very moment. I guess I've been standing here for too long, because Shea's palms are sweaty and he looks nervous. I bite my lip, and I nod.
The entire beauty of this moment melts away as Wada shoves the disgusting fluid up to my face and pours it into my open mouth. I gag and wretch, the entire contents of the bowl down my throat before I realize what's happening. Woozy and suddenly very confused, I tilt to the side and Shea catches me again, yelling at Wada for not warning me. Wada yells at him in return, again telling him to keep quiet before he throws him out. I can't help but laugh weakly, and rub my head as I stand upright. I had never imagined this would all be so sudden.
"Have present for Shea and Wonka," says Wada hurriedly. "Stay quiet," he scurries over to a bundle of furs in the corner and starts digging through them, slowly and carefully. He pulls away an animal hide and motions for us to come over to him. We oblige, gingerly stepping over to where he is and looking into the pile of furs. My heart skips a beat, and I clutch Shea in shock. Shea, who is just as surprised as me almost falls over and holds onto a chair to keep himself upright. I rub my eyes and blink a few times. It's still there. I look down and see a tiny baby boy fast asleep, his pale body nestled in between furs, his tiny chest rising and falling with each breath he takes. Wada, looking immensely proud, picks him up, cradling his small body, and hands him to me. Still in shock, I let Wada lay him in my arms.
It's like holding the world in your arms; I feel powerful, almost God-like, as if I had all the power in the universe. If for some reason I had the urge to harm this delicate being, there would be nothing to stop me. I shiver. But I would never do that. Despite the power I feel, I also feel weak and helpless myself, like I shouldn't even be holding for fear he might fall and get hurt. I look down at him, so weak and defenseless. Totally dependent on me to survive. He doesn't yet know the pains of the world. So innocent and pure, like a ball of clay for me to shape and mold into something great.
I let out a soft laugh, and without warning, tears start streaming down my face. I laugh again and wipe them away, only to find out it's futile to try and stop them. I feel Shea's hands on my shoulders, and feel him breathe on my neck as he looks down at him, mouth open in wonder. I run a finger over his delicate features and ruffle his soft red hair, and wipe away another tear that lands on his face. I look up and over my shoulder at Shea, who's face is still frozen in amazement, his mouth open and eyes wide. "Do you want to hold him?"
Finally he blinks, and looks at me nervously. "Not know..." he says, gently kneading my shoulders, and diverts his gaze to the baby.
Teasing, I say, "Are you afraid?"
Offended, he immediately puffs up, sticks his chest out and makes grabby hands for him. But the moment I hand him the baby, and the infant is safely nestled in his arms, his eyes go soft. Slowly, a smile spreads across his face and he nuzzles it's face. He turns to Wada, and I swear I can see moisture forming in the corners of his eyes. He sees me watching him and quickly wipes it away, puffing up again before saying, "Wada, how?"
Wada's smile fades, but his pride does not. He exhales, and rubs his head before sitting down. "Not important. Not important..."
"Wada been gone long time three days ago," says Shea, hinting. "What do?"
"Not important..."
I try to take the baby from Shea, but he jerks away and glares at me. "Shea hold now," he says.
His jerking motion disturbed the infant, and he opens his eyes, wincing against the light and looking curiously up at him. And then, starts to cry. And then to wail. And then to scream. Shea jumps and holds him out to me. I back off, holding my hands up. "No, you wanted him."
A little bit of comforting and cradling, and miraculously, Shea had him calmed down. Wada goes back to the pile of hides and hands me a small plastic bottle. "Where did you get this?" I ask. "Where did you get... you know... the baby?"
"Not important..." he says again, looking away. "Shea stay at Wonka house now. Stay forever."
She jumps. "Not leave Wada," he says drastically, looking confused and disoriented. "Always stay here. Wonka and Shea stay here," he says, begging.
"No. Wonka house warm. Good for baby."
"Shea want -"
"Go, now!"
Shea flinches, and looks over at me. I take the animal hide the baby was previously wrapped in and cover the baby, taking Shea's hand. "We better go," I whisper into his ear, and we're out the door.
_____________
It's funny, how within the span of twenty minutes I was proposed to, engaged, married, and became a parent. As a young boy, I always pictured my wedding day to be big and beautiful, with hundreds of guests and decorations everywhere. I pictured having my child would be a long, painful, suspenseful experience. Of course, I get kind of emotional thinking that I will never experience anything of the sort. But all I can do is just be happy with what I have, and not ask for more than what I need.
We decided to name him Phillip, after one of my uncles.
Shea can't pronounce it for the life of him; it always comes out sounding like 'Pip'. I guess that's what we'll be calling him from now on.
It's been a few months now since we got him, and still we haven't a clue as to where he came from. If anyone asks, he's my sister's and we adopted him. But I don't really care, to tell the truth. I adjusted quickly to waking up in the middle of the night to feed and coddle him, but it took a huge toll on Shea the first few weeks. He got less sleep, and was snappy and argumentative for a while. A few times he even got up and went to go sleep in the hut in the middle of the night. But eventually he learned to cope, and even started to help out with Pip.
I can't imagine how hard this is going to be. It's been less than half a year, and we've received two anonymous hate letters criticizing us as parents and trying to get us to leave town. But I'm not going anywhere - this is where I met Shea, and this is where we fell in love. This is where I came out, and this is where I'm going to die. I don't care if people hate us, or treat us any different. All that matters is that I'm happen. And Shea and Pip are happy.
Shea and I would stay up for hours on end, talking about what kind of person we expected Pip to be when he grows up. I used to always think that my child would follow in my footsteps without question, but now I'm not so sure. I won't pressure him into choosing my career path, like my parents did, and I will never punish him for doing what he thinks is right. Hopefully I stick to that, because I broke the 'we will never use a pacifier' vow three days into becoming a parent. Neither of us really know what will happen. We can comfort ourselves by saying we do all we want.
I guess, if you really think about it, no one really knows anything until after it actually happens. And by then, there's no looking back. All you can do it suck it up and move on, or sit there and wallow in self-pity and wait until everything washes over. I used to be able to do that; just sit there and comfort myself and tell myself how horrible the world is, just waiting for something to save me. But I can't do that anymore. Now I have a child to care for. If I spend all my time taking care of myself, then who does he have?
Changing my ways is hard, but it's something I have to do for the sake of Pip, and even Shea. I'm not going to let this family fall apart, like mine has. All the kids hating each other, the parents unfaithful and unloving to each other... I just don't want that. And I won't let it happen.
'GAWD that ending sucked so bad xD More than likely I'll change it within a week or so to make it less suck-ish. Really, it's just pathetic. I just needed to get this chapter up as soon as possible being how long it's been already.
So that's it, I guess. I feel so much better finally finishing it, despite how much I hated how this chapter turned out.
When I first started writing this, I was pretty sure that I was going to finish it, and that was that. But I have a really interesting idea that involves Pip, so there might be a sequel. I'm not making any promises, but I've been wanting to write a story about growing up with gay parents for a while, and this is the perfect chance to do it.'
~ Tobi
Infinite thanks to all my readers, and anyone who has reviewed or commented on this. You will never know how much I needed it.
Thanks to Uncle Guy, who shared with me the feelings he and his husband had after adopting their lovely baby girl, Mychelle. You helped me capture Pierre's exact emotions in this moment in time, despite how horrible I was at portraying them.
Thanks to my dad, who supported me through my so-called 'awakening'. You comforted me when I needed it, but you never coddled me. You wanted me to be strong enough to fend for myself without abandoning me, and somehow, you pulled it off.
Thanks to Birdman (I'm not using you're first name, Mr. Paranoid xD. You'll deal with 'Birdman') for talking me into writing this, and yelling at me when I contemplated not finishing it.
Thanks to Mr. Copeland, for getting me into writing when I was fourteen, and punishing me for thinking I was horrible.
Thanks to anyone and everyone who has entered my life. I don't care if I hate you; you have helped make me what I am today.
"SHOULD A BULLET ENTER MY BRAIN, LET THAT BULLET DESTROY EVERY CLOSET DOOR." Harvey Milk, first openly gay man to be elected into public office. Gunned down in his office along with Mayor Moscone on 27-Nov-1978, by Conservative board member Dan White.
