Storybook

"Did I do something wrong?" I opened my eyes and slid him a glance.

"No,"

More silence. I stared ahead at the snow falling in our headlights. My stomach felt like a brick, and my head felt light.

"Was it the dance?"

I audibly sighed. "We barely even danced,"

"Yeah but, like that's what I mean- I..."

I tossed my head back on the seat, and shifted to look out my window. Away from Mikey.

"Look, just drop it. I'm drunk, and tired. And I don't want to talk about those assholes at work anymore. So can we just drop it already?"

'O Holy night' tinnily crept out from the radio speakers. The rest of our ride remained silent. I passed the cab driver a twenty, and wished him good night before dragging myself out onto the icy sidewalk. As the car peeled out, I turned to see Mikey standing in the road. It felt like an impasse.

"Did someone say something to you? Did I do something?" His volume increased.

"Oh for fucks sake. Can you just leave it alone!"

Silence.

I stared at for an entire minute, my guts tearing up inside of me. His hopeful outfit, his hurt face. A lonely boy in the street, pleading for me to give him something. I couldn't do it anymore, I couldn't just pretend things were perfect, and that I was someone he could look to...

"I love you, and it scares the shit out of me. Happy?!" His face remained unchanged as I continued.

"It scares the shit out of me because I'm eleven years older than you, and sometimes I feel like you don't know any better. That at some point you're just going to realize you have better options and walk the fuck away. I worry that I'm holding you back, that I'm taking advantage of you. That you need a safe place to get away from what happened with your sister, and that as soon as you're better, you're out of here."

Mikey just continued to stare at me with a hurt and confused look. My own face burned as I stumbled for more words.

"I'm not your generation. I'm not comfortable touching and kissing in public, I mean, for fucks sake, neither should you in this day and age. You could still get yourself killed!"

At this point, I was just emptying my brain - spewing out every crazy thing I had thought about over the last few months with him. I'd held everything in for so long, I just had to unload. But even as I blathered on, Mikey just stood there, unmoving, taking it all without even flinching. I looked him straight in the eye and delivered the final blow.

"I love you, but his doesn't feel right."

I turned and walked up the sidewalk to my front porch. I dug around in my pocket for the house key, and slowly went about unlocking the door. I was sick to my stomach, but felt like I had done what was necessary.

Even still - there was a piece of my heart that wished that after all the ugliness I had just unleashed on him, that Mikey would have still followed me up the walk.

I opened the front door and turned to the street - he was nowhere to be seen.

* * * * * * *

Sunday morning felt like my physical comeuppance. I was throwing up before sunrise, and eating toast to settle my stomach. Drinking was not my strong point, and I knew that anything beyond a beer or two was going to hurt the next day. My head throbbed as I walked around the house, trying to forget everything that had happened last night. I put on a football game and meandered about my chores.

By mid afternoon, I was feeling better and took a long hot bath to clean myself up. I was drying my hair as I browsed take out menus when I first heard the clunking noise from outside. Hearing it again, I stopped dead in my tracks and tried to figure out where it was coming from. There it was again. What the actual fuck, I thought to myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement out the front window, and ran to the door to investigate.

Outside was Mikey, bundled up in a heavy jacket with toque and big leather work gloves. He had a staple gun in one hand and a string of lights in the other. He eyed me with the same unflinching look from last night. I was a bit unnerved, but didn't want to show alarm.

"What are you doing?"

Mikey climbed a ladder, and with another sharp clunk, stapled a string of lights to my roof.

"I'm putting up Christmas lights"

"Uh, yeah. But why?"

"Because it's Christmas." CLUNK. More lights were strung up to the roof. Mikey came down the ladder, and moved towards another box of lights he had left on the porch steps.

"Mikey, cmon- why are you here?" I stood there in my bathrobe feeling the cold, but refused to back off. Mikey stopped his work, and walked up in front of me.

"Pete... I know about your mother." My face began to redden.

"Really?"

"Brenda and Gayle told me about everything. They told me you sold your condo to move in here and take care of her."

"I rented it out."

Whatever. They told me you wouldn't let her go to hospice. That you took care of her right to the end.

"You don't have to do this, whatever this is. I don't need you to feel sorry for me." I tightened the belt of my bathrobe, shifting my weight uncomfortably and trying not to explode.

"Oh, I don't feel sorry for you. I'm pissed off at you... I'm hurt... I'm pissed off."

"Why?"

"Because I told you about my sister, and instead of opening up to me and telling me about your mom, you pat me on the head and treated me like a child." It was a sharp rebuke, and I could feel my jaw tighten.

"I didn't want to burden you."

"Bullshit. No. You didn't want to be vulnerable. You wanted to be the man. Whatever the fuck thats supposed to mean."

"Is it shitty to want to look out for someone?" I spat out accusingly.

"No, no it's not. But I didn't ask for you to look out for me. I'm not your princess to rescue. You mean more to me than some saviour."

I wanted to rebut his video game reference, but my tongue felt thick in my mouth, and my throat constricted. I was angry, and embarrassed, and I think my body was revolting against the dumb ideas in my head.

"If you're so weirded out by our age difference, easy, stop trying to act like my dad, and treat me like an equal partner."

"But, look-"

"No, Pete- shut the fuck up. Seriously. Shut up and listen. Stop trying to talk down and administer to me, stop pretending like you know what's best. If you were so wise, you wouldn't have been so alone before we met. And I'm sorry if that sounds cruel but..."

I bowed my head and grit my teeth, trying hard not to cry. My ears felt the hot sting of embarrassment and I had half a mind to turn and slam the door in his face. Mikey stepped closer and gripped my shoulders with his gloved hands. He tilted his head until he caught my eyes, holding us in a gaze.

"Look, maybe I AM some dumb kid who doesn't know any better. Maybe it's completely stupid for me to fall in love with someone so scared to be open and honest. And maybe it's a mistake to be out here putting up Christmas lights when I don't even have an extension cord- but I do love you and I'm willing to risk everything for a chance to be with you."

It was so hard to speak. All my emotion was caught up in my throat again, and I felt the stiffness in my body begin to melt at his touch. It felt surreal. There was a weight slowly drifting off of me, and I began to shake. Mikey pulled me into his body and I wrapped my arms around him. Our embrace held for minutes, and I grasped at any sort of levity I could find.

"But really, what's with the Christmas lights?" I sniffed out laughingly. Mikey kept me in his arms and pulled back to look me in the eyes.

"Simple. You've got a lot of worries. And you've been super guarded about them. So I'm building you a fort to keep you safe, and hoping that you'll let me in."

I stared at him and openly began weeping. He took off a glove and wiped away a tear with a cold slender finger. I surrendered to his kiss.

---------

To be honest, this felt a bit weird. This was new for me.

He seemed a bit scared, but he let me push him back onto the bed without any resistance. I could tell that he was fighting the urge to take back control, and I swear, I halfway expected him to stop me in my tracks and do just that.

"This has been a long time coming," I laughed at the tension in the room, looking down at Pete as he laid there in his basic white briefs. "Maybe YOU should call me daddy?"

"Oh my god, you need to stop talking if we're going to do this," we both chuckled, as I absentmindedly pulled at my stiffening cock.

My name is Mikey. Michael actually. And this story has been about me I guess. It was just under a year ago that I had first shown up on Pete's doorstep. That first random hook up.

I was looking to get out, to get off - my sister had gone back into the hospital back then, and I was absolutely spent running back and forth between the house and intensive care. I never thought that our initial hook up would lead to this. It was insane.

Pete hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down, his thick cock slapping against his soft belly in the process. I helped pull them the rest of the way off his legs. His knees fell open in front of me, and he gave me a hesitant smile.

When I came back to him after a couple months, Lucy had died. We had buried her. And I guess I was looking for comfort. He was so nice to me that first time, and there was something about him that made me feel needed. It was hard to explain.

I fell in love with him early on.

Every time we cuddled on the couch, it was scary how much I fell in love with him. Wanted to know him, to make him happy. But It wasn't as simple as just giving myself to him and hoping for the best. For all the effort Pete made in trying to look after me, I could tell he needed someone to return the favour.

I'd wondered about the big empty house, the master bedroom stripped of personal effects. The little designer touches here and there that said a woman used to live there. For awhile, I thought he'd been married.

Maybe it was shitty of me not to press him on things earlier, maybe I was greedy, and didn't want to scare him off by getting too close into his life. But lets be honest — nobody really knows what they're doing in regards to love and relationships, right?

I grabbed at Petes legs and slid them up along my shoulders. I had misjudged how muscular and heavy they were, and had a moment of doubt about our positioning. Our dicks rubbed against each other as I gently caressed the underside of his thighs. I smiled at his ticklishness as he wriggled around beneath me.

I just wanted to love someone who loved me back. Simplest shit in the world.

Rolling the condom over the head of my penis, I reflected on the first time he fucked me. I hadn't fallen for him then, but weirdly enough, trusted him.

I picked the lube up off the bedspread and popped the cap open. I put my hand under my cock and squirted along its length, catching the drippings and spreading it over my shaft. Pete rolled his hips and presented himself to me.

I delicately nudged the head of my dick between his cheeks, and pressed at his anus. We both took a deep breath as I entered him slowly. I studied his face as I eased forward, he looked strained, closing his eyes until I had been buried inside of him. I leaned my head against the leg on my shoulder, and kissed the inside of his knee while he got comfortable. With a nod from him, I pulled myself out, re-lubed, and pushed in again.

I'd never felt so responsible and so connected to someone before.

My hips rocked back and forth, until my sway became a full on fuck. Pete was tight, but the lube had done its job, and I felt like I could begin to really pound him good. His moans were deep and encouraging, and I grabbed his legs tighter as I thrust in and out of his hole. I'd never been this sweaty before, and my hair kept flying into my eyes, making it hard to see my guy. Loosening my grip on his legs shifted something, and I must have nailed his prostate, because Pete started to get really incoherent and really loud.

I sped up and felt my balls tighten - but it was Pete who went over the edge first. He let out a cry and I slowed down, thinking I'd hurt him - managing to see his hard cock convulse and send shot after shot of spunk onto his belly and chest. Smiling to myself, I picked up the pace and groaned as I soon emptied into his ass. His legs fell from my shoulders, and sank back onto my heels, completely out of breath. My dick slipping crudely out of Petes sore rectum. I leaned forward, licking some of the cum on his chest, before kissing him passionately. We lay together in a messy heap like that for almost an hour. Faces about an inch apart. Caressing one another. Smiling.

I never had someone like Pete in mind when I envisioned falling in love. I never thought a hook-up app would have brought me here with him. He had his own life, his own stories before we met - mine played out as we went along. And now here I was, taking over our narrative.

We all live our own stories, hoping that one day, we'll find someone to share them with.

But If you're really lucky, you'll get to write all new ones with your the love of your life.