Chapter VIII- Need

Gary's POV

(14 out of 40 weeks along)

I still couldn't tell you why I fucked the little faggot that night. It was like I just lost control of myself. In a matter of seconds, all I felt was lust. Pure and overpowering. And I had acted on it, needing him. No one else would have sufficed. I was aware of what was happening, but I couldn't stop myself.

His eyes shining, his face wet with tears, his tightness engulfing my cock. I can recall all these details, remembering them clearly.

At first, these memories would make me sick to my stomach. I'm not a fag. Not into guys. Fuck that, not into anyone. They all make me want to bash their faces in.

But that was how I lost my virginity. And if you tell anyone that, I'll make sure they never find your body. So you had best keep that information to yourself.

But I've digressed.

Imagine my surprise, some six or so weeks later when Femme-boy pays me a visit. By then, my ass had been put away into Happy Volts Asylum. And I don't feel like myself. I feel exhausted. Sluggish. Unable to focus. And more than a little forgotten.

So it's almost a pleasant surprise when he shows up. I fell asleep on his shoulder. Not because he's bordering on comfortable compared to the mattress I sleep on, but because he's boring. I don't know how long I slept after he left. For all I knew, he had never even actually been there.

That is, until I noticed the envelope tucked behind the sink knobs.

I opened it, tossing the crumpled envelope into the hall outside my room through the bars of the doors observation hole, just for the simple pleasure of knowing one of the orderlies would have to take time out of their day to discard it.

I very briefly scanned the papers. What I got out of it was that some doctor wanted me out for Femme-boy. My groggy mind couldn't process it all the way, no matter how many times I tried to make any sense out of it. I stuffed the papers into my pocket and went back to sleep.

Next time he showed up, I was much more clearheaded. So when I reread the papers, they made perfect sense. Didn't fucking believe it though. The fag must have been pulling my chain. Had to be. I was crazy, not fucking stupid! Every rational fiber of my being told me little Petey was either playing a damn joke or should have been in this damn Asylum with me.

But the papers were official. So it wasn't… just a joke? Making sense of the situation had been a stretch. A long stretch. I didn't know what he wanted out of me.

Only thing I know for sure was that shit changed drastically after that.

We went to "The Estate". Pretty posh name for my new prison.

When we arrived, I was still adjusting to my new meds. When I assaulted him in Dr. A's office? Not completely my fault. He should know better than to talk to me like that anyway.

And I did try to apologize later, but he started talking about therapy. He's lucky he didn't lose teeth. Should be happy I saved his pretty little femme face by walking away.

But I ended up going to the therapy sessions anyway. Had to appear as if I was putting up an effort, even if it was only halfhearted. And sure, I may have made him cry, but I wasn't exactly happy that day. And you know what? Misery does love company.

Then when King asked why we had sex? The memories flooded my mind. At the forefront, his tear stained face. I blurted the words out. Not expecting his denial. Not expecting his soft hand to press against my lips. And not expecting my heart to start pounding as his touch ignited something inside me.

That's when my confusion set in. The second he touched me.

Sure, I had kissed him before that. But I hadn't been in control for that. It had been… something else.

For a few weeks after that, I pushed it to the back of my mind while I settled in. For a prison, the Estate's got to be the best place I've ever been. And I don't say that lightly.

When Femme-boy's second check-up had come around I had sat in the exam room, bored and wanting to leave. Until The Good Doctor said she'd had people die on her.

An unexplainable feeling of dread settled in my stomach. Was I scarred for Femme-boy or the… Thing? Maybe for both. Maybe for myself. If he died, was I going back to Happy Volts? That was something I didn't want to find out.

Then Dr. A had started talking about us waiting to have another Thing. I had caught Pete's eye. Talk about awkward.

Speaking of awkward. Group.

If I wanted to be surrounded by faggots, I'd go to a gay bar.

Telling me I should try being with Femme-boy? Saying that even if I didn't I'd fall in love with him anyway? Puh-lease. You can't spoon feed bull shit to a bull shitter.

One thing that wasn't bull shit? I did was to name the Thing Brennan if it was a boy. Meant 'alfame'. Badass. Better than 'Garrett' or 'Peter' anyway.

Oh yeah. I made Pete dinner. Out of the kindness of my heart and hunger of my stomach. What did I get out of that? Screamed at and cried on. Out of nowhere too. Out of fucking nowhere. And they call me crazy.

I'm just too nice lately. Should have told him to man the fuck up. But what did I do instead? I held him. Like a good… whatever I am to him.

You know what though? Despite the fact I've seen a mood swing from hell erupt in my kitchen and despite the fact I had felt his rounded tummy with my own hands, I didn't fully grasp the situation until I went shopping for baby stuff.

I'd never given much… no, scratch that, any thought to whether I wanted kids. It's just something I never saw happening.

But when I stood there in the middle of the baby section, a light bulb blinded me as it clicked on in my head. This was really going down. I was going to have a crying, pooping being on my hands. Not anytime soon, but soon enough.

A being that would be depending on me for everything. A being that was going to call me Dad.

I had felt like I was going to black out in that instant. Me? Be someone's Dad? I wasn't even considered fit to take care of myself!

But, you know, since I'm a man and not a little bitch, I kept all those doubts to myself.

I've noticed I've been doing that a lot. Masking myself. Not saying I didn't enjoy myself sometimes. I really didn't mind being around Femme-boy like I thought I would. He was growing on me. Very slowly.

When he tried prying, he didn't grow on me at all.

Asking me about my family? Telling me things I already knew and trying to make me feel guilty?

I wish he didn't whine at me so much.

Oh! And let's not forget. He sneaks around behind my back. How dare he call Hopkins and then slap me in the face with ludicrous accusations!

Using him? I know I'm not exactly open and honest but… really? Using him for what?

Okay, yes. I guess I could be using him to stay out of Happy Volts, but come on! Who wouldn't? If I was just using him, wouldn't I have taken off by now? Not like I was getting money or sex out of him by staying.

And then there's the fact he asks me questions that I'm uncomfortable with. I may be ever so slightly, the tiniest bit attracted to Femme-boy. It's barely there though. So I don't consider myself gay.

For some reason, telling him that pissed him off. After I told him, he refused to let me kiss him anymore.

Oh, what's that? You thought I said I wasn't that attracted to him? Let's say it's a bad habit then.

Shut up.

As I was saying… Yeah. Pissed at me. So he took a nap. Lately that's his answer for everything. Which is fine. If he's sleeping he's not trying to force pleasantness into our relationship.

And usually, sleeping makes all my transgressions null and void in his eyes. So I let him be and make sure he's up for any appointments we have to keep.

But when I woke him up this time, he was still mad. So I decided to have some fun with him. Poking him in his side seemed to help his mood.

Speaking of moods. Mine would take a nose dive when we got into class. I had opened the door and chanced a glance at him. The minute he set eyes on the teacher, his face lit up.

Reminding myself that I had no legitimate claim to Femme-boy, I just took my seat. Still, it pissed me off. What business did he have looking at other dudes while he was pregnant with MY kid?

Kind of slutty if you ask me.

I'm not jealous.

…

I'm not.

Anyway. Dinner that night had been pretty awkward. I guess I really only managed to make him more irritated. Because a week had dragged by and we had barely said anything to each other. True, that most of our time was spent in class now, but still. Used to be he couldn't go fifteen minutes without saying something to me. And while I'd usually be in a 'Thank God' state of mind, I couldn't help to but wish we could put this behind us. I was tired of the silence. It left me alone with my thoughts.

Which was the problem now. You know how many times I've gone through our whole situation in the thirty minutes I've been on the couch "watching" the TV?

Too many.

Movement to my left catches my eye. It's Petey, coming into the living room. Looking as if he has something to say. I wait patiently, noting the apprehension still apparent in his eyes. It had seemingly taken up permanent residence there this past week.

I'm getting tired of it.

"Jason invited us over."

"Why?" I asked, after brief consideration.

"I imagine just to be friendly."

Friendly. Right.

"I'm not going."

His brows furrowed and he opened his mouth, presumably to try and coerce me into it. I wasn't going to let him.

"I've got something I need to do."

He pursed his lips and put his hands on his hips.

"Like what?"

I stifled a sigh. He's prying again. I made a mental note to start training him in the art of minding his own business as soon as possible.

"Something. Butt out." I instructed, glaring at him.

He glared back. Yeah, lately he's been… touchy.

He sighed but dropped it.

"Fine. Then I'll be back later."

He turned to go and I rolled my eyes. I was hoping he wouldn't be in a bitchy mood when he came back. Because chances were, after the call I was about to make, I was not going to be exactly cheery when he came back. And if we were both in a bad mood, we fought. Mostly because I didn't bother to keep my thought to myself when I got angry.

Sad, that I can pinpoint that I'm the problem and just don't care enough to try and apologize most of the time.

To be fair though, should I have to apologize for telling him I'm not exactly gay?

I pondered it as I stood and grabbed our cordless landline phone from its cradle on the coffee table and headed to the bedroom when I heard the front door close.

I didn't have a plan. I just knew I had to get this out of the way. Maybe it would get Femme-boy talking to me again.

I sat on the bed and dialed a phone number that I supposed I would always know by heart.

I got an answer on the third ring.

"Hello, you've reached the Smiths. Who's calling please?"

It was the time I'd heard my mother's voice in months.

It made me briefly consider hanging up, but I knew better.

"It's me, Mom."

A pause.

"Garrett Smith! What in the- How- Where are you?!"

I was used to the way her voice shot up in pitch when she was upset.

"I'm in…" I paused a moment, trying to remember. "Vermont."

"Vermont?!" she squawked. "How did you get to Vermont?!"

"It's hard to explain." I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Well you had best try."

"I came here on a bus. A doctor had me released from Happy Volts."

"Why were you released? And why wasn't I contacted about it until after you were gone?"

"Probably because the people running that place are a bunch of pricks with shit for brains who do-"

"Watch your mouth." She cut me off.

I rolled my eyes.

"Why were you released?" she asked again.

"You won't believe that part." I answered.

"Try me." She ground out.

I wondered at how best to put it so as not to cause any confusion. I supposed there really wasn't one.

"I got someone… from school… pregnant." I started, planning on easing into it.

"Oh my God." My mother breathed. I could practically see her sinking into the antique ottoman we kept in the sitting room.

"Now, here's the hard to believe part. You listening?"

After years of dealing with my Mom, I knew how to get through things that she may not initially be able to understand due to emotional distress.

"Yes. I'm listening."

"The person I got pregnant is male. His name is Peter."

I allowed the long pause, knowing she needed time to wrap her head around that. Most people would.

"Gary, that's not possible." She whispered.

A wry smile spread across my face.

"I told you it was hard to believe." I allowed myself a short, bitter laugh. "Four months ago I would have agreed with you. He's fourteen weeks along now. If this is somehow still a joke, it's a pretty elaborate one…" I trailed off, wondering at how she was taking this.

"I… Oh, Gary. Are you gay? Is that what this is about?"

"No. It's about you becoming a grandmother. Stay focused please." I ground out. I was quickly learning to hate that question.

"I… don't know what to do… or say."

"You should come see us." I suggested. Femme-boy wanted my folks? Oh, he'd get my folks. "In a few weeks. I'll make sure everything's arranged."

I was trying to keep my voice pleasant. I wanted to convince her both of us wanted them here.

"Gary, I just… I don't know." She still sounded lost, which is about what I expected though.

"You and dad talk about it. When you've made your decision you can call us back. I'll give you the number."

-Later-

I was settled into school work, waiting for Petey to come home. Getting home apparently took a while, because he didn't arrive back until three hours later. He walked into the kitchen and glanced over my shoulder before going to the drawer where he kept recipes.

"Did you really skip out of visiting to do school work?"

"Not exactly." I replied, not letting my tone betray how much his accusations pissed me off.

"So what else did you do then?" Oh, excellent. Still bitchy.

I fought the urge to grind my teeth and yell at him. I'd been suppressing all my urges lately, I suppose the doctors would call that progress.

"I called my family."

This made him pause. He stared at me in wide eyed surprise.

"You did?" he asked, disbelieving.

I chuckled. "Yes."

"Well what did they say?" he inquired, sitting at the kitchen table with me.

"My mother seemed pretty unconvinced. She's going to talk to my dad and call us back."

"Oh." He sounded let down, but he quickly perked up. "Thank you Gary. I know that was probably really hard."

And he smiled at me. Hallelujah, it's a fucking miracle.

I shrugged it off. "Does that mean you're moving back into the bedroom?"

He sighed as he stood up. So much for that plan.

"You." I grabbed his wrist. When he attempted to wrench out of my grasp, I tightened my hold.

"Let go of me." He probably wanted to sound commanding, it came off as pleading.

I stood and pulled him in closer to me, my free hand pressing into his lower back. Bringing his body closer to mine. I pressed my lips to his, knowing we would share the same effect as what felt like an electric current ignited in our bodies. Making us both aware yet unable to control our actions. Making us want each other.

He moaned as I forced my tongue into his mouth. I released his wrist and moved my hand to the back of his head, fingers entangling themselves in his dark hair and clutching the back of his head so he couldn't pull away. He clutched the front of my shirt. The hand I had on his lower back traveled lower, cupping his ass. His hips shifted forward, grinding into mine. It was euphoric.

Roughly, he shoved me away. I staggered back.

"No." He whispered between panted breaths.

Damn him. I could see the want in his eyes. His face was a pretty shade of pink. He called to me in a sinful manner.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you're not gay!"

I scoffed, looking away from him.

"I'm getting tired of this."

"Tired of what? I'm trying to help you."

"Trust me. It's not helping. If anything, it's making it worse."

"How?!" he asked, disbelieving.

"Because when you deny me something, it only makes me want it that much more."

He sighed, exasperated.

"What am I supposed to do then?"

"Enjoy it." I answered, smirking.

He glared at me for that. I chuckled and stepped closer to him. He took a step back. Grinning like mad, I continued my advance until I had the younger male cornered. He put a hand out, pushing against my chest in a halfhearted attempt to ward me off. I leaned in to capture his lips again, but he turned his head to the right. I frowned, but wasn't going to let him detour me so easily. I gripped his hips gently and pressed my lips to his exposed neck, earning a gasp. He started to cringe away.

"That tickles, Gary." He protested.

I gently started sucking on his skin, knowing he wasn't going to try stopping me just yet as he let out a soft moan.

When I pulled away to see his heavily lidded eyes and parted lips, I smirked. I knew the way we effected each other was powerful, but I hadn't known I was making him weak in the knees until he sank to the floor. I grabbed his upper arm as I watched him collapse so he wouldn't land too hard.

"Shit. Are you-"

"I'm fine."

I crouched down to his level, gently cupping his chin to raise his face to mine. He refused to meet my eye though. I could sense he was upset. About to cry. Lately, I could always tell when he was about to cry. Something made me want to comfort him. Made me unable to just let him be upset. It pissed me off, mostly because I was unable to fight it.

I replanted my lips against his, being slow in my movements, he pulled away though.

"Please don't."

"I don't understand why you keep fighting this. You weren't so objectionable the night we fucked."

"Maybe because I can't make any sense of you. You're not gay but you keep kissing me. I can only deal with one or the other so make up your mind." He huffed.

"You have to deal with my affection?" I asked as I cocked an eyebrow at him, slightly offended.

He didn't answer, just kept staring at me. Waiting for a real answer. The apprehension in his eyes made me uncomfortable.

"I can't… fight the… attraction I have for you." I answered slowly, trying to put it truthfully.

"You're so full of shit Gary." His response was immediate. He stood, anger flashing in his eyes.

"What was the point of me answering you if you weren't going to believe me?" I nearly shouted at him.

"You were… being serious?" he asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Don't tell me you don't feel the same thing towards me. I know you do." I answered flatly.

He seemed uncertain about my words.

"I'm not sure how I feel Gary." He murmured as he walked out of the kitchen.

-Peter's POV-

My words had been true. I didn't know how I felt. Gary wasn't the only one who had doubts. I couldn't deny my attraction to him, but there was no way I could see us being a happy little suburban family. It's just never going to happen. Something tells me that's not the life Gary wants.

I've been trying to keep my walls up. It was proving a tad difficult at times. There was something between us. The past week I had been avoiding him, the feeling had only intensified. It was difficult to suppress the feelings. Difficult to stay mad at him. Difficult to stay away from him.

I understood what he meant when he said he couldn't fight the attraction. I couldn't either. I still wanted to try though.

I left the kitchen, not thinking. I needed to make dinner. I wasn't sure what to do instead. I was thinking about it when the phone began ringing from the living room.

I quickly made my way to the phone and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Oh, is… Gary there?" A female voice inquired.

"Who should I say is calling?"

Gary was walking into the living room.

"His mother."

A jolt. Gary's mother?

"One moment please."

I handed the phone to Gary.

"It's your mother."

"Thanks."

I hurried into the kitchen, using the opening to make dinner. I could hear Gary talking, I couldn't make out what was being said though. Knowing I had no business trying to listen in on Gary's conversation, I focused on my task.

I had never been much of a cook. I had never had the need to be. So when my mother had sent me to the Estate with copies of her recipes, I had been super grateful. Most of them were simple, some I was afraid to attempt. I chose a simple one and began making dinner.

Twenty-five minutes later, Gary came into the kitchen. He appeared apprehensive, his eyes a bit irritated.

"Something the matter?" I asked.

"My family wants to come for a visit. They obviously think I've gone off the deep end."

My heart began pounding.

"When?"

"Two or three weeks."

That seemed so near.

"Should I invite my family then? So everyone can meet?"

"Yes. I hate it, but that is probably the best way to go about this."

"I'll call my mom after dinner then.

"Tell David and Sierra I said hi."

He had met my parents the day before we had boarded the bus to Vermont. Everyone had been uncomfortable, but nothing terrible had happened. Gary had been polite, my parents civil.

"I will."

He lingered in the kitchen for a while, watching me. It made my spine tingle.

"Do you need help with dinner?"

I looked at him, eyes wide. Gary was offering to help? Hell has officially frozen over.

"If you want, you can grate this." I handed him half a block of cheese.

-After Dinner-

I sat at the kitchen table, trying to complete schoolwork. Gary was doing dinner dishes. His sudden helpfulness made me suspicious, but I was trying not to assume he had something up his sleeve. I still wanted to believe him, even if I felt I couldn't quite trust him.

"So what did your parents say?" Gary asked, focused on dishes.

"Mom says she'll have to talk to Dad about him taking time off work. She says she'll come no matter what."

"And what did the doctor call about?"

"Just reminding me of my appointment next week." I was watching him wash dishes.

"Hm."

He seemed disinterested and I wondered if I had hurt his feelings with my words earlier.

"Are you… ready for your parents to come here?"

"No." Simple.

"Tell me about them." I was coercing him, trying to get him to talk.

"Kaylyn's a stay at home mom. Baxter is an antiques dealer. He took over for my grandfather when he retired. Collins in college."

His voice got edgy when he spoke of his brother. I changed gears.

"When did your grandfather get into the antiques business?"

He paused and stared at the ceiling for a moment, thinking.

"Before he married my grandmother. So… a long time ago."

I thought a moment, wondering if I should keep asking questions.

"Dead." Oh, back to simple.

I pondered the step backwards, but pressed on.

"I'm sorry. How did she die?"

There was a long pause. I almost didn't expect him to answer me.

"She was sick. That's what they always told me. I figured out as I got older and she got worse that it was a little more malignant then that. My father is their only child. She had been fighting ovarian cancer for years by the time Collin and I came along. She died when I was eight. I don't want to talk about it, so no more questions about her tonight."

"Alright. I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

Another silence. The sink drained as he pulled the plug. He had finished the dishes. He washed and dried his hands before sitting down at the table with me.

"Anything else?"

"What's your brother going to college for?"

He stared at me, the corners of his mouth ever so slightly pulled down.

"English major. He wants to write books or something." He shrugged.

I nodded. He didn't want to talk about his grandmother because it upset him, his brother because it annoyed him.

"What do you want to do?"

He seemed taken aback about that.

"I don't know. I just want to get through the high school program first… What about you?"

"I want to be a web designer."

I had gotten the idea into my head months ago and it had stuck.

He nodded. "At least one of us knows what they want to do."

"You've got time to think about it."

"What, five months until the Monster gets here?"

"You are not giving our kid that nickname." I said, shaking my head and fighting a smile.

"Yes I am. Then, college after a year? What are we going to do until then?"

"I don't know. Stay here, get through school. Take care of the baby."

We stared at each other across the table.

"I'm not ready for this." He ran his hands through his hair.

I let a small, understanding smile grace my face.

"Neither am I." I admitted.

We let another silence ball between us. There wasn't much more to say after that. I glanced down at the schoolwork still spread across the table. I cleared my throat.

"Can you help me with this?"

-Later-

Gary plopped down on the side of the bed, towel drying his damp hair. Shirtless. In his boxers. My face caught fire in a nanosecond. I butterflies in my stomach as I cast a sidelong glance at him. Shameful as it is, I wanted to touch him.

Undoubtedly, feeling my eyes on him he turned to look at me. I averted my glance quickly back to my laptop.

"You know the way your face goes red is a dead giveaway, tight? Even if you look away before I catch you."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I denied, even as I felt the warmth spread to my ears.

I heard him chuckle to himself before I felt the bed shift as he moved closer to me. His leg pressed to mine as he leaned to better see the screen of my laptop.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm looking at baby things."

"Like?" he prompted.

"Clothes, toys, strollers, car seats. There's a lot of stuff."

"You don't say."

I looked up at him.

"Are you wanting to go to bed?"

"It is bedtime." He strained the word to make a point.

I shut down my laptop and stored it under the bed, as was my routine.

"Ok. Good night."

I began to get off the bed to head to the couch, but was quickly yanked back down when he snaked his arm around my waste.

"Stay." He commanded, his warm breath on my ear sent a shiver down my spine.

I shifted around so that I was facing him.

"Gar-"

His lips were to mine before I could finish. Slowly he pushed me down onto the mattress, his body hovering over mine. My heart sped up as he forced his tongue into my mouth. I groaned, my fingers entangling in his hair. The moment seemed to stretch on forever, and eventually we had to break apart for air.

"Stay." He spoke between panted breaths.

I stared up at him wide-eyed. Staying was a bad idea. I knew it was. Yet still I was torn between wanting to stay and wanting to continue to sleep on the couch. I was still trying to fight with myself about how I felt. Still trying to keep my walls up. And I couldn't help but wonder if I was even worth it anymore. With my head spinning, I couldn't understand why I was fighting it.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

His response to that was to go for my neck. I hissed when he started nipping at my tender skin. God, I remembered this. I pushed him off, suddenly panicked.

"I'll stay if you just stop."

He continued to hover over me.

"Do I have to stop?" he asked, eyes betraying his lust.

"Yes." I hoped I was convincing when I said it.

"Why? You're already pregnant. Why can't we fuck again?" He began gently kissing my neck, his warm breath tickling. I cringed as my face grew warm.

"Because I don't want to." I lied, "Now get off." I pushed firmly against his shoulder to emphasize my point.

I could tell he was annoyed, but he complied with my demands. He settled down beside me on the bed.

I turned away from him and turned off the lamp. I sighed into my pillow and closed my eyes.

"I'm sorry." He murmured.

"Me too." I responded.

-End Ch. 8-

Gosh. That was hard. Gave up on Gary's POV halfway through because I didn't know what else to have him do. He's so hard to write. I'm now working on a new and improved For You I Will timeline. Oh, I posted a one shot! Same Love. It's Bully, rated T. It's a song fic.

Uh, what else… hm. I guess that's it. Let me know what you think. Looking forward to hearing from you.