Dealing With Spencer-Chapter Thirteen
For as long as he could remember his dad took him fishing. Though granted, it couldn’t be called fishing in a traditional sense since neither of them knew anything about catching fish. One day three years ago his daddy simply suggested it and it became something they did regularly, mostly when mommy wasn’t feeling so well, or as daddy sometimes put it, lost her mind. Now, he was six years old and they still went though not as frequently as before, and with a little less fun.
Spencer didn’t like mommy when she was losing her mind because it usually involved her screaming, crying, and throwing things at either one of her men inside the family. Therefore he only silently nodded when daddy hushed as she was finally resting, “Let’s go to the lake.”
In the early years their thoughts used to be in the same balance for his daddy was usually wasted and Spencer mostly excited. It had always been fun but they both were aware that things had rapidly changed. While for Spencer something strange was happening to his parents and mostly his mom, for his father the strangeness was most visible in the boy’s behaviour.
Eric Boone watched the six-year-old closely as they walked to the lake, which wasn’t really a lake but an artificial water reservoir that was supposed to look like a tiny version of a hidden lake. Trainour had built it years ago for a fortune and it was now mostly forgotten. Surrounded by a few imported and Californian trees the illusion would have been perfect if it weren’t for the dark painted wall in visible sight that clearly betrayed the image of vastness. It was just one of the many fake things within the Trainour family, though for Spencer it truly had been a beautiful lake. Eric needed a little more imagination and he always doubted the existence of life, let alone fish inside the darkened water, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway since Spencer was strictly against using anything that could possibly hurt the fish, and therefore their ‘fishing’ was merely throwing out some old bread.
The blonde, as always on such trips into the not so huge world behind the tree house, had his eyes mostly lifted up into the crowns of the trees. For him this was more than an adventure. It was a familiar freedom and even though things started to feel weird lately he seldom felt wrong. He had no idea that it had occurred to his father suddenly after almost six years of living in a sort of bubble, that maybe raising a child that way might not have been such a terrific idea.
For six years Eric had loved Spencer dearly but never really thought about the consequences of what they’d been doing him. The boy was just there and always fun. It felt great to be a parent and to fill a young mind up with his own wisdom, though both parents had a slightly different and often drunk clouded wisdom to forfeit. It had never particularly bothered him that Belle’s affection sometimes seemed a bit too strong because he honestly believed, at least in the first years, that her way of parenting was a spectacularly wonderful one since she shared her love so openly. There used to be a time where it wasn’t strange to watch them lying face-to-face and just caressing each other tenderly because that was all that it was.
Another joint, a few songs played with fairly decent talent on the acoustic guitar, that’s how life had been. Quietly, intuitively, happy, peaceful, but as Eric now realised painfully, wrong for a child. He couldn’t exactly say when he started to worry but as he watched him with that excuse for a teddy bear tugged tightly under his arm he felt it again. Something was wrong because six-year olds don’t have such an absent stare. They don’t have that quiet perception he possessed. Eric had watched him for hours and hours, just sitting in a corner in complete silence with Wicket in his hand and it had seemed as if he was communicating with the stuffed animal.
Eric remembered the day those two somewhat sad souls, found each other. It had been a good day, though maybe the first he actually noticed that something might be wrong with the blonde. Firstly, because Spencer hadn’t even been mildly excited by the idea of going to a fair but was more scared to leave the premises. His mother had teased him with old Gypsy stories and he had been slightly terrified by it though she had the endowment to take fear away and so he finally agreed on going.
It had been a small Carnival, with three tents and one shooting lodge. Somehow, possibly because of the drugs he had been using, Eric wanted to impress his kid and spent almost thirty dollars at the shooting booth until he was finally able to turn around and offer Spencer anything he want. His son had been more confused because he enjoyed the shooting all right but he had no idea which item to pick. There were so many toys but he just gave them a blank look because he really didn’t want any of it.
“Just take your time,” his father had urged, estranged that Spencer seemed forced rather than gifted.
“But… uhm… I don’t know, daddy,” he replied shyly and a little intimated by the owner of the booth and the various adults watching him closely.
“You can pick anything you want.”
Other kids might have been excited or would’ve had trouble to summarising it down to one choice but Spencer had trouble wanting something at all. Mostly because he had everything and he had preferred to watch his daddy shooting more balloons because they made such a loud noise that made his heart jump, a feeling he both had dreaded and enjoyed equally. The owner impatiently tried to keep his friendly façade and offered the blonde to come inside and take a closer look, which Spencer politely accepted. The way he orated himself made them all a little uncomfortable because it sounded wrong.
Eric remembered how he had watched with open eyes just like all the others, Spencer walking back and forth the booth, surrounded by dozens of stuffed animals and various toys to play with. Every now and then he tipped his index finger at a chosen object, just barely, and then paused as if he was waiting for an answer.
Spencer took an eternity to choose. For him it had become an almost sacred act and couldn’t be done too hastily. It didn’t come as a surprise since his mother always took hours to make decisions, she thought importantly and choosing a new toy that possibly could become a sort of companion seemed like an important one to the blonde. In the beginning people kept looking and waiting but eventually they all turned away since it took almost two hours in which Spencer carefully let his eyes wander from one stuffed animal to the next.
All of them looked shiny and bright with that inviting magic that worked so well on children but Spencer couldn’t help but think that they all looked scary as well. Somewhat conceited as they were hanging or standing and lying spread out in the small booth, proudly assuring that they’d be the right choice. He started to see them as various family members, thinking that he rather not share home with any of them.
They were about to give up when he spotted a small, brown teddy bear lying on the ground. Apparently it had fallen from a small shelf and from the sight of it had been lying there for a while. Every time the owner walked back and forth to hand new customers a rifle the stuffed animal got kicked around. It was compassion that made him say that he wanted that one to which the owner replied, “Oh, no. That’s an old one. We gotta throw it away.”
“But I want that one,” Spencer repeated and looked at his parents with pleading eyes.
The bear looked like a dying old toy and Eric had asked, “Why this one?”
“Because he’s lonely,” the boy answered and had already gave the toy gender and humanity.
Back then he had pushed it aside and even thought it was something great but the way Spencer bonded with Wicket often reminded him of this imagination, which seemed so much stronger than even that of his mother. Once again, Eric found himself amazed by those strong emotions, noticing how his son reacted impulsively, which seemed odd considering how much time he took, how much consideration. He always seemed to start with a blue print, very well structured and every time something emotional would turn it into something else, usually chaos when it came to the various games he used to play. Very often his father had watched Spencer carefully and theoretically forming a certain plot and plan but once he was actually into the game he started changing it, adjusting it to what he was feeling.
So many times his actions stood in contrast to what he tried to achieve and Eric couldn’t help but feel incredibly touched by it. There was such failure in most of it and yet Spencer never seemed to be bothered long enough to feel what would force others into defeat. Just like his mother, Spencer always aimed to be happy. The easiest way to achieve that was to ignore certain aspects, numbing them in various ways and making up a far more interesting world, filled with only things he enjoyed.
The worst similarity he and his mother shared was the complete lack of control in certain moments. It had been the reason why they didn’t go out very often. Eric, himself had only been outside the Trainour Mansion with the both of them on a few very rare times because there was no saying on who would eventually freak out. Though, those moments had the tendency of being absolutely intense and filled with excitement as well, which is why Spencer always enjoyed going to the mall with his mom.
Nobody ever dared to explain to him, even the meaning of being arrested and since all Officers had been nice to him he only saw it as something fun and was only scared when they briefly separated him from his mother. In most cases they were quickly reunited since they both made it clear, very loudly that they needed to be together. Eric had always felt torn between embarrassment and affection. After all he had fallen in love with Belle for those exact reasons. He had fallen for her craziness but seeing it handed over by blood freaked him out.
He often tried to see himself inside the boy but even if there was a part it was completely overshadowed by her presence, which made him love and sometimes even hate his own son. He became more aware of how easily the boy gained his mother’s attention after that day at the fair. In a helpless, childish way he had found himself even angry that Spencer who seemed ungrateful because after all it was his daddy who gave him Wicket.
Nonetheless there were clear moments, strange moments in which Eric felt incredibly sorry and ashamed for being such an insignificant part in this family.
A couple of weeks later things distorted even more.
They scared Eric because he knew that something about all of this was wrong. The first time Belle truly shocked him happened in one very hot summer night. They were having sex, which had always been, and amazingly despite all drug usage, something that worked fantastically between them. That the boy was often in the room never disturbed any of them. However, on that night Spencer for the first time didn’t sleep, played outside or silently with some of his toys in the corner, but approached them and asked in a rasping voice what was wrong with daddy.
Belle reacted by smiling at him broadly with a flushed face. She had been sitting on top of him, reached out for the boy and heaved him into her arms. Eric had frowned because it felt awkward to have sex while his son was sitting on top of him, wrapped up in the embrace of his mother who moved slowly and explained what was going on. Mostly because he looked so innocent and generally interested as if this was about baking a cake.
Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad had she not moved again and Eric could see the arousal in her eyes and her grip tightened. Her face looked weird when she laughed softly and said to her son, “You’re too young to understand that.”
“But I want to understand,” he had pouted back and Eric could feel him tensing in her arms in defiance.
She purred in his ear that it was love that they were making and that love looked like that. Everything could have been sweet but it wasn’t and Eric found himself alienated by it and croaked, “Maybe, we should not…”
Though, then she moved her hips up and sunk down, making him let out a heavy breath that had his son narrow his eyes in worry. Worry about his dad because he, of course, couldn’t comprehend the situation. That had been just one of the many moments she started to include Spencer more and more into their intimacy, selling it by making it seem like she was only explaining to him the basics of physical love.
Eric had felt frozen and as they walked down the lake he feared that he would never have the strength to interfere, even though recently he noticed a change in his son’s behavior. While in the beginning he had not seemed disturbed, there was now something behind his eyes that couldn’t be defined and could very well be a sign of a psychological consequence. He had definitely become more secretive, which was something his mother certainly didn’t like for she couldn’t explain it. Eric on the other hand had his suspicions.
Though, the boy was seemingly nowhere near puberty he assumed that a few things had started to change and therefore some reactions might have been disturbing. Belle had been in a mad mood for the last couple of days because Spencer had showed signs of retrieve from her affection. Only faintly and he always changed when she sounded disappointed and sad but still there was reluctance in his actions.
“That’s a good spot, right?” Eric suggested and received only a mute nod. He sighed over the lack of conversation but nonetheless smiled encouragingly, “Ready to catch some fish?”
There was a shrug in reply before Spencer sunk onto the stoned ground and started to play with some smaller rocks. Unlike most kids, Eric had watched his son never put them in a straight line but spread them out instead. There seemed to be no visible pattern but evidently there was a schematic in Spencer's head because he placed them carefully and after a moment of contemplation. Rock by rock he formed something that only he could understand. Sometimes he fluctuated and gave Wicket a questioning glare before he would nod and place the stone.
For a long while Eric simply watched him doing that before he said, “Can I ask you something?”
Spencer lifted his eyes and looked as if he was disturbed in concentration. It felt like a long time before he answered, “What do you want to ask me?”
“Are you happy?” Eric asked and put aside the bread and knelt before him.
The boy found the question strange and difficult to answer. Since he wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to say he decided on finding out more by asking, “What do you mean?”
“Do you like living here?”
“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, though still unsure as to why his daddy would ask him that. Mostly because he thought it was obvious.
“You seemed sad the other night,” Eric pointed out and waited, though already cursing himself for even starting that conversation. It felt so difficult to talk to him because he was so different than usual six-year olds.
Spencer blushed instantly because he had a secret and he wasn’t sure if it was safe to share that with daddy. A little uneasily, he shifted and almost unconsciously pulled Wicket into his arms to function as a possible shield before he replied, “I was,” because mommy always said that lying is bad, though mommy also made it a secret in the first place. He struggled because he wasn’t sure if it was all right to admit that.
“Why?”
There was no reply other than some reddish cheeks and lowered eyes because Spencer, as he shockingly realized, didn’t seem to trust him. Very slowly the small children hands started once again to rearrange the rocks, acting like the question had never been asked.
“Spencey, look at me,” Eric pleaded and when he locked eyes with his son he repeated the question very slowly, “Why were you sad?”
“I don’t know,” Spencer replied with a blank stare across the lake before he shrugged and added, “I’m not sad anymore.”
“Did mommy made you sad?” Eric asked and knew it was a thin line to cross. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to hear a reply but it certainly affected him deeply to hear him saying, “Maybe…”
“What did she do?”
“I don’t want to say,” Spencer stated and abruptly moved up, “Can we go back?”
“You can trust me, kiddo. Tell daddy what happened.”
“Nothing happened and that made her sad. I’m sorry that I made her sad, daddy,” the boy confessed and looked suddenly wretched.
At first Eric was only confused but with a little patience and a lot of soft words Spencer mentioned that things have changed lately but they are not ready. Despite his own clouded mind the father slowly pulled out small details and after turning the words of the child around he began to understand that with ‘things’ Spencer meant his body and it gave him a strange sting of heart. It all started to make horrible sense and Eric wasn’t sensitive enough but downright asked, “Did she touch you where you don’t want it?”
To which he didn’t receive an answer because Spencer had had enough of the conversation and where it might lead. Whatever happened that made him so sad he had pushed it aside already and was not willing or more accurately too young to deal with it properly. Besides, in his mind it hadn’t been so terrible. It was bothering him much more that his mummy had seemed to be disappointed in him. He really wanted her to be proud of him but last night she wasn’t. All of daddy’s questions sounded too focused on him rather than her and that confused him.
“Can we go home now?” Spencer asked impatiently and pressed Wicket closer to his waist.
“Do you really want to?” Eric found himself asking and felt a strong urge to take the kid and run away. He would have done it had Spencer not giving him a totally baffled look.
“Of course. Don’t you want to go home?”
“I’m not sure if it is the best for you. Don’t you want to leave?”
Far too young to even follow the idea, the blonde shook his head in utter shock and croaked, “Leave mommy?”
There was such fear in his eyes that Eric pulled back and pushed aside. Evidently the boy didn’t want to go so maybe he was only overreacting. However, Spencer had never seen anything else. Nonetheless Eric had been a drug addict and he was trapped inside this little strange family.
“No, I don’t want to leave,” Spencer stated resolutely and added, “I want to stay with you and mommy. Here.”
“But she makes you sad!”
“No,” Spencer now shrieked and covered his ears with his palms, hissing, “Stop talking like that. I love mommy and she loves me. She never makes me sad.”
He was six years old but unwavering and turned around on the spot, leaving his confused father back at the shore of the artificial lake. When they arrived at the house later there was a rift between them that over the next five years increasingly grew. Eric felt painfully aware of that mistrust in his son’s eyes and he witnessed how intensely Spencer tried to please his mother.
More and more he started to seek out her attention, even though she mostly provided it anyway. Too afraid to lose the two people he loved, Eric stayed. He drifted with them but knew and was made aware of it in subtle ways that he was only allowed to be around in the background. He started to take more drugs than ever because he simply couldn’t understand nor could he change that bond between them.
He knew for a fact and witnessed it quite often that the boy never truly enjoyed the moments where the intimacy would touch a certain taboo, though it only showed in moments where he felt alone. In constant silent communication with Wicket he would pull back in a corner and just be sad for a few hours. Nonetheless when she came back or woke up from sleep he changed. It only needed a few words from her, a smile or a tender touch and he suddenly seemed happy...
*
*“A toast to a miserable parenthood,” Eric Boone blurred drunkenly and crashed his whisky glass against that of Lawrence Trainour.
“You were a child just like her,” the older man tried to soothe down but knew he was failing. Besides in the end they were both bad fathers.
“I can’t believe that I lived there, watching it all go down and did absolutely nothing.”
Lawrence gulped and growled, “I didn’t do anything either. Hell, if it weren’t for Jennifer they’d still live up there.”
“Honestly I think they’d be dead by now. Just imagine if Jennifer hadn’t seen them. Sometimes I think it all sounds like a really bad movie. The Blue Lagoon or some shit like that.”
With another growl Lawrence emptied his glass and croaked, “It sounds more like fucking Greek mythology.”
“I guess you have a point,” Eric agreed and gave the bartender a sign to fill up. “But one factor is wrong isn’t it? Kenji definitely doesn’t fit an Oedipus complex.”
“Guess it’s the American version,” Trainour hissed with a cynical undertone in his voice and shook his head, “It’s probably best if she doesn’t find out.”
“What exactly happened? I mean, after she had an abortion. I’m always wondering why she didn’t came back for him.”
Lawrence Trainour was far too drunk to care about being secretive and he was tired of keeping everything inside anyway. He truly had thought that he had done something good today and the reaction of Spencer completely proved him wrong. Even though there seemed to be such improvement he still didn’t understand that boy. Just like he had never be able to understand his daughter. The whisky made his tongue dance as he said with dry smile, “There never was an abortion.”
“What?”
“She gave birth to the child,” Lawrence said and enjoyed for a few moments the dumbfounded frown before his voice darkened and he explained, “It was a boy and it died. I mean it came out of her and there was never a fucking sound. Doctors weren’t able to determine whether or not it was the incest factor or the drugs or the fact that she was almost starved to death that killed it.”
“Him,” Eric said quietly, “Killed him.”
“No! It! An abomination, goddamn it. What the fuck was she thinking? In what fairy tale was she living? She wanted that bastard child; even fucking called it a love child. She was completely insane. We had her institutionalised. That did it eventually. She didn’t like being locked up and after six months she agreed to leave the country. I gave her a golden credit card and told her to never come back and you know what the worst is? She never said she was sorry. She claimed that they belonged together at the very last day that I saw her. Ever since then I ask myself when my daughter became a lunatic and a child abuser. What went on in her head? We’re the Trainour's and not some fucking hillbilly family!”
Lawrence paused and calmed down his anger because it would only lead to pain. He lifted his tired, inebriated eyes and admitted, “Sometimes I wished we should have sent him away because with her we could just numb, but not this boy.”
“Why the sudden interest, Lawrence? I mean you pretty much ignored him after he moved to the clinic.”
“Because of the same reason that you are here. Guilty conscience. Besides, we both know you can’t just easily label him retarded. He showed all of us in certain moments that there is a brilliance behind that weirdness that’ll be worth to discover.”
“You used to say that about her,” Eric pointed out and received a deadly glare.
“What are you saying?”
“Nothing. You know, you are right. Besides there shouldn’t be a question since we have to make it right.”
Lawrence laughed and the sound of that hilarity made Eric’s blood freeze because it lacked everything that is needed for a good laugh.
“Apparently we are making everything wrong. It’s that fucking teenager that reached him. Sometimes I really wonder if it was genetic or because of what his mother had done that made him turn into a fag.”
“They remind me of him and her. He depends on this boy. You know, maybe it just really is love. Kenji seems to be in love judging by his reaction,” Eric replied with a shrug and a little less conservative view.
By already ordering yet another drink Lawrence grunted, “So, what happens if the high school boy stops liking the crazy one?”
“What do you think?”
“I think that it will break my grandson, your son, into a million pieces. Which is what my lawyers and beloved family would love to see because they want the boy out of the picture. Completely out of the picture. Locked up, tied up and far out of sight.”
“Your family was always lovely,” Eric snarled sarcastically and shook his head, “Maybe they’ll stay together. It seems to me that Kenji has a little more moral fibre than we had.”
“It doesn’t feel very well to know his destiny is in the hands of that kid.”
“Better than in our hands, though,” Spencer's father admitted sadly.
“I really thought he would be happy to see you.”
“I expected it to be worse.”
“So, Eric, tell me what shall we do?” Trainour asked and straightened himself, shifting with the dizziness inside his head.
“Support them, I guess. If that means stay away we should stay away. But the question is, what happens if she finds it out? What if one of your precious siblings ran into her wherever she is and tells her that Spencer loves someone else? What do you believe she would do?”
Trainour thought of his daughter who was currently not in India but in Thailand. He had people around her, protecting and watching her and any one of them could have gossiped it out. However he doubted it because one thing was sure, if she would hear such a rumour she’d call her sister. Nonetheless the thought made him feel slightly sick since the sheer mentioning that Spencer might feel more for someone else would surely trigger all of her seething vast variety of disorders at once.
*
*
When did it all change?
Spencer wondered as he was lying mutely on Kenji’s bed, curled up like a baby and not in the mood to even lift his eyes. He used to think that his dad was the funniest person in the world. There had been an easier time in which laughing hadn’t been straining but came as easily as breathing. Though breathing felt straining now, mostly because he was tired. From the corner of his eyes he could see Kenji next to the bed, sitting on a chair with his eyes closed. Spencer felt sorry for him because he knew that Kenji was only patiently waiting for him but he wasn’t ready to talk or push aside all of his emotions.
His daddy had always been nearby and that realisation made a lot of things worse. It made that pain worse because of that dreadful question as to why his father never came to see him. Somehow he had an idea why but it would require remembering a blank page of his past that he was afraid to fill up with a story. Especially not now, not while everything had been going so perfectly. Perfect with Kenji, Spencer thought and carefully lifted his eyes, watching the younger man sleeping deeply.
It used to be easier. It had always been easy for the blonde to push bad things aside once they seemed to overwhelm him but not this time. It had been far too real to simply ignore it and yet he wished he would be able to. He felt weak because of his outburst at the church and embarrassed as well. He had acted like a baby in his mind and it forced him to retreat once they had gotten back to the Miyagi residence. Quickly, without saying a word he fled upstairs where Wicket was already waiting and he kept on holding to the stuffed animal because so far it had always been there. Besides the bear was directly connected to his dad.
His mom named him Wicket becuase of her strange love for the sport of cricket. Spencer surprisingly didn’t care about the name and simply accepted it as a fact. It made him just happy to have some to talk to, someone else than her but that was something he carefully kept to himself. His dad had carried both son and toy up to the attic at the main house when they came back from the fair. It had been a good day and a good memory, Spencer thought as he remembered his dad placing a soft kiss on his forehead as he put him to bed. The blonde never once noticed that his father had felt estranged by his behavior.
“Kenji?” Spencer hushed softly and shifted a little as he was waiting for a reply. He suddenly felt the urge to talk to Kenji or more accurately to be near Kenji. Those last hours in which he coped with what had happened made him feel a distance that he didn’t like.
“Hmmm?” Kenji slurred and budged in his seat before he lifted his eyes. Tiredly he rubbed them before he croaked, “Hey.”
“Hey,” the blonde replied in a lowered voice and braced his head on his palm.
Slowly Kenji’s body started to fill up with energy and he shook his head to speed up the awakening process. He cursed himself because he had fallen asleep. His eyes searched for the alarm clock and he noticed that it was already two A.M. It had been hours since Spencer talked to him and in some moments of this waiting Kenji had feared that maybe this time it wouldn’t work as usual. That maybe this time the blonde wouldn’t be able to snap out of his despair. In a rasping voice he hushed, “How are you feeling?”
“Confused,” Spencer confessed honestly and added, “Would you come sleep next to me?”
Kenji smiled cautiously because he wasn’t sure on how much Spencer was still suffering from that loss he had felt but happy because he obviously wanted him close to him. He moved up and stretched the sleep away before sinking down on his bed, lying on the side to face the blonde and whispered, “It was a long day.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For screaming and yelling and for not being stronger.”
For a moment Kenji was startled then he felt such a heavy wave of compassion that it made him reach out to softly caress Spencer’s cheek. He couldn’t help but think that the blonde looked so much younger in that position.
“There is nothing you have to be sorry for. Absolutely nothing. I am sorry that you had to go through this.”
“I’m still sorry and I’m embarrassed,” Spencer whispered in a faint voice.
“But…”
“Please, don’t. Don’t find excuses for me. I should have known. I just hadn’t expected it to hurt so much,” the blonde confessed helplessly.
“I’m not finding excuses for you,” Kenji orated in a subdued whisper and leaned closer to place a soft kiss on Spencer’s lips, “I just don’t want you to feel embarrassed for an emotion.”
“I used to believe that one night I would fall asleep and never wake up. It feels a bit like someone has just woken me up. Like someone poured cold water over my head. It’s not a dream, is it?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I thought I’d be happy to see him. I don’t know what happened but suddenly I felt very, very angry.”
Kenji shifted, wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him closer, saying, “That’s understandable.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. I mean after all that has happened you have the right to be angry.”
“I don’t think I do. I think I know why he left. No. I know why he left and that makes it all so difficult. It makes it difficult to be angry with him because it was my fault. And her fault. We made him leave. At least I think we did,” Spencer conceded in a shaken voice.
“Don’t say that. It’s not true. You were just a child,” Kenji comforted but received a woeful look. He seemed to be sorry that Kenji obviously didn’t know how much guilt his shoulders carried. Maybe that was the reason why he had reacted that intensely. Deep down Spencer felt unease that Kenji might agree with his father one day. Or his Grandfather.
“Why does that make a difference? I mean, I never ran away. I never even wanted to run away.”
“Then he should have made you or simply taken you with him.”
Spencer gave him a slightly absent stare before he let himself sink on his back and growled, “That’s the problem because I think I would not have gone with him.”
Then he unexpectedly snatched one of the two pillows and placed it over his face, made a sound of defeat and sighed, “It’s just all so complicated.”
Kenji couldn’t help but smiling softly while he pulled the cushion away and said, “You should stop blaming yourself.”
“I can’t push it away, Kenji. I could always do that, you know. But now it doesn’t seem to work. It’s still there and it hurts. It just hurts,” the blonde pondered, frustrated.
“I always wondered how you do it. How you push all of that aside and be able to be happy. Maybe you have to give it a bit more time?”
“You wondered?”
“Of course. Things that make me sad usually stay longer but with you they seem to fade as quickly as they surface.”
“I just stop thinking about them,” Spencer explained and snuggled closer to Kenji by adding, “It just didn't work today.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t try pushing it aside.”
“But then it won’t stop hurting,” the blonde stated flatly and made a face, “And the longer it hurts the more it hurts and I just… I just can’t feel like that anymore. It makes everything feel rotten and wrong. But I’ve got so many good things around me. I don’t want to make them seem bad only because I can’t be stronger. He’s my dad, Kenji. Why wasn’t I able to just talk to him?”
“Because you are angry. You were sad a long time but seeing him made you angry and it’s about time.”
“But being angry isn’t good!”
“It might not be good but sometimes it’s necessary,” Kenji handed out his wisdom, though unknowingly speaking more of himself than Spencer because he definitely was angry and needed to be angry even.
“I don’t understand that,” Spencer croaked and shrugged, “It doesn’t feel good. It only makes everything feel wrong. It feels like a fire is burning me up and I just want to scream. I don’t like feeling like that. I used to feel angry and it never helped or eased the pain. Why should it be doing any good now?”
Kenji wasn’t exactly sure whether or not he should kiss or slap him. What he was saying sounded so perfectly right in theory. In the younger man’s opinion, though anger was just as important as any other emotion. Besides he found himself wishing that Spencer would understand that somehow.
“Why don’t you scream?” he therefore suggested and was confronted with a blank stare.
“What?”
“I don’t know, maybe it’s what you need. To let that anger out a bit.”
“You want me to scream?” Spencer cocked an eyebrow as he sat up and thought about Kenji’s suggestion. He could still feel that knot in his throat and that pondering pain inside his chest. Would that go away if he screamed and most importantly what was he supposed to scream, he wondered and made a face, “You make me feel stupid.”
“What? Oh, no, I didn’t mean to make you feel stupid,” Kenji hastily replied and sat up as well, reaching out for the blonde’s hand.
“If I start screaming I’ll wake everyone up.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“Really?”
Kenji needed to hide a smile because Spencer was still looking so serious, which took away the idea of a spontaneous anger release. It was already turning more into a twenty questions as the blonde asked, “You don’t think they’d think I’m stupid?”
“Nobody in this family thinks you are stupid. You really should know that by now,” Kenji said and it sounded like he pouted.
“I really don’t like to scream.”
“You have no problem screaming when you are a pirate,” Kenji pointed out and received a disapproving glare.
“But I’m not a pirate, am I?”
“No, you’re not,” Kenji admitted and this time couldn’t help but grin.
“Would you kiss me?” Spencer suddenly asked and Kenji was the one with the confused facial impression.
His hesitation made the blonde lower his eyes with a blush and he hushed, “Just kiss it all away.”
There was something so profoundly strange in those words that Kenji found himself bewildered.
“Kiss what away?”
“Everything that hurts. I want it to be that easy.”
Spencer couldn’t look into Kenji’s eyes for he had repeated a sentence that used to make him shiver when it had been said to him. He knew he shouldn’t do that but he couldn’t help but think that it felt strangely right with Kenji. Back when she spoke those words it used to prompt a switch in his head. He wondered if Kenji felt the same way but he stayed silent and waited.
“It’s not going to be that easy…”
“How would you know? It always worked before. I’d like to stop feeling like this. I’d like to feel like I felt this morning, with you. I saw you crying before you fell asleep,” the blonde alleged and noticed Kenji’s surprised face, though went on, “I didn’t like that. I like to see you smile.”
Very softly Spencer started to graze his index finger over Kenji’s lips and shyly breathed out, “Because it makes me smile as well. Can’t it just be easy?”
Kenji watched him silently and felt his touch like a breeze of soft air caressing his skin but he didn’t know what to say. Of course he wanted nothing more than to make it easy. If a kiss would be able to provide that even better. Nonetheless he didn’t move because he started to suspect that it would only bury it slightly under the surface, inevitably making the pain worse once he’d feel it again.
“You have to learn to deal with those emotions,” he said instead and felt Spencer’s utter disappointment when the blonde pulled away.
“Why?” he asked defiantly with a curled lip.
“So they won’t come back to haunt you.”
Frustrated and in a child like manner Spencer rolled his eyes and crossed his arms before his chest when he laid back, “It’s too difficult and I don’t even know how. How do I deal with it?”
Good question, Kenji thought with mixed feelings and tried to come up with a brilliant idea but his mind seemed blankly out of order.
“Maybe you can tell me what you felt?” he suggested unsurely.
Spencer wasn’t sure what Kenji meant. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell Kenji how he felt when he saw his dad again and utterly certain that he wouldn’t want to talk about how he used to feel about his dad. He let out a growl in anger when he felt something growing inside his body, knowing that it were tears that he would rather not cry. He just didn’t really know what Kenji wanted from him and very much preferred his idea to kiss all the pain away. To kiss and touch and feel only the good thing but instead Kenji suggested talking and thereby thinking about the bad and the ugly as well. It sounded so heavy and he couldn’t help, but for the first time in months he wanted to be someone else so he could slip away from that sorrow.
“I can’t,” he simply stated sternly.
“Why not?”
“Because I just can’t!”
“Okay,” Kenji said in a soothing voice and softly touched his hand before he added, “You don’t have to. But… I don’t know how to explain this but I’d rather not kiss you just because you want a bad feeling fade. I mean, don’t get me wrong I always want to make you feel better but…” Kenji paused and took a deep breath before trying to explain how he felt. “Usually when we kiss it leads to something. I mean it has recently always led to something. I sometimes wonder if you know how I feel when we are that close. It feels like a million butterflies raging inside my stomach. It’s because I love you so much that sometimes when you touch me it hurts, even. Not in a bad way it’s just so intense,” his voice cracked slightly because Spencer seemingly listened closely, which made it a bit harder. “I want you to be happy and not in despair in those moments. Can you understand that?”
Spencer couldn’t take his eyes from Kenji because he was touched by those words. It stood so much in contrast to the relationship with his mother. He couldn’t help but feel his voice rasping with some tears when he said, “I think I do. But can’t you see that once you kiss me I feel the same way?”
“I just don’t want to do something you might regret later,” Kenji sighed, a little defeated when Spencer started to kiss him.
“I think that you are the one who woke me up from a dream and not my dad,” Spencer hushed while placing soft kisses onto Kenji’s face, “Because everything feels more real with you, even the bad things but they are not so bad as long as I know that you are with me.”
“Spencer…” Kenji really wanted to keep a certain distance because he instinctively knew that Spencer needed to find some closure regarding his dad and what he had felt this afternoon, but every word was caught by an eager kiss.
“Please…” Spencer whispered in such passion that Kenji was completely helpless against the seduction. He could not deny how heavily he desired him and could not fight it either. There was still so much unsaid, so much to deal with and so much to be careful about but instead Kenji found himself devouring the blonde passionately when he stopped resisting and reasoning.
It just didn’t feel wrong and every move, every touch was filled with pure tenderness. The relentlessly moving time seemed of none importance to the two lovers, caressing each other with explorative hands as if they felt each other for the first time. In a way it was even since the heat overwhelmed them, made them breathless and Spencer gasping out, “Kenji… please…”
“W… what,” was the breathed out reply.
Spencer had no idea how to answer it and shifted instead to rid himself of his pants. Kenji blinked and thought that the blonde felt different and looked different as well. Somewhat more mature, maybe. His entire face was flushed with a heavy glow as he started to press his waist against Kenji’s body, whispering, “I love you. I love you so much.”
Kenji became aware that Spencer wanted something from him but he wasn’t sure what it was. His mind struggled with his own arousal when he used a moment to take a deep breath and asked, “What do you want me to do?”
It was just a look and a tremendously big risk, especially now in this particular moment and Kenji frowned at first. He wasn’t sure whether he should ask or go by instinct and wasn’t sure if he should even consider and yet he was lying almost on top of him and felt that heat that seemed to stream out of every pour. He shifted slightly and brushed his palm over the wet, blushing face, “You said you didn’t like it.”
There, it was out and he was glad because it had to be said because Kenji couldn’t stand seeing Spencer in tears just like that first time. His body was trembling solidly and he could barely make out who was moving more rapidly. Hot breath touched his skin and their sweat merged in the intensity when Spencer very faintly hushed, “I don’t know if I will.”
“But…”
“It’s here,” Spencer suddenly said, pushed him aside a bit and pointed at his stomach, “It’s burning and I think… I…“ because he couldn’t find the right words to explain he found himself choosing some of hers because with Kenji they sounded right. “I just want to be close to you. As close as it gets.”
Kenji wasn’t happy that in that exact moment he thought of his parents sleeping next to his room or his brother only one room apart. Up until now everything could have been hidden easily should someone maybe storm in. What Spencer wanted and what made Kenji slightly light-headed would afford more effort than touching each other under a blanket.
He bent down to kiss him and pushed up his hips to feel the nakedness and almost lost balance when Spencer only purred, “Closer.”
Overwhelmed Kenji needed a minute, resting his head on Spencer’s chest just for a second. He inhaled sharply before he started to let his finger dance over the blonde’s chest. There was a tense and he could feel it but didn’t look up but fingertip-by-fingertip moved further down. He let his hand brush carefully, tenderly over the blonde’s erection and went on until he slid between his thighs.
Kenji kept his head on his chest; listening to the slowly increasing heartbeat the more he prepared him. He first lifted his eyes when he pulled his hand back and slid between Spencer’s legs. Their gaze met and he said throatily, “This might hurt…”
Spencer only pulled his head down and kissed him. He opened everything to the core of his soul because someone once said that only in such a moment you are truly connected with the one you love most. He believed it in that moment because he loved Kenji the most. His head felt finally able to push aside everything bad of this day, obtaining only the stored memories of a wonderful beginning.
He let out a yelp of pain, a soft whimper and Kenji instantly faltered, only to feel Spencer’s arms wrapping around him, “…K… Kenji… please…”
Kenji felt him tensing. It felt hard to even attempt to talk because he felt completely wrapped inside him, sinking deeper and he panted, “Breathe.”
Spencer complied and breathed out, forcing his body to relax. His eyes fluttered closed by a sudden blindness and he groaned out when all that was left to feel was Kenji. Their lips found each other in the embrace and while fallen into a deep kiss, Kenji started to move his hips. The blonde instantly reacted by panting deeply into his throat and his entire body replied in a profound affect since he arched up his waist.
By now everything else had completely lost all meaning. It was solely about the two of them. It was about the presence and not the past or the future because nobody could ever take it away. Barely aware of anything but Spencer, Kenji didn’t even realize that there were tears mixing with his sweat drops. He was even more overwhelmed by Spencer’s strong grip, as if he would never let him go. Despite the steamy heat that thickened the atmosphere around them, the more Kenji increased the pressure, Spencer never let go of him and he felt his hands clawing into his skin.
Kenji had never felt anything like it when Spencer started to wither beneath him. In all the times he done that particular thing it had been done usually quicker, faster, maybe with little more aiming for the end before the beginning. This was completely different because he felt Spencer’s orgasm. He felt the blonde’s muscles contracting, convulsing and reacting to him so fervently that it forced him to moan out and he sincerely did not care about his parents anymore.
It felt like something had electrified them and as a result to Spencer’s fingers boring down into his back Kenji’s body was rattled with a thunderbolt. Like opposite poles they seemed to be tangled within each other and when it was over and everything became quiet, except their vibrating breaths, it felt like they decided to simply never let go again.
Eventually Kenji reacted and slid down, knowing that his parents must have heard. Yet, he couldn’t get rid of that smile once he looked into Spencer’s face. There were no tears and there was no despair. Instead the blonde watched him, peacefully at ease with everything around him and even if it may not last, it promised hope.
“Are you happy?”
“Yes, I am.”
*
*
While Kenji held Spencer tightly in his arms, rocking him tenderly to sleep a few thousand miles away Spencer's mother was not at ease with the world. She was in a rage and her face was not flushed with arousal but with fury as she snarled out, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
She was talking to Alec, who decided to visit Belle in Thailand mostly because he was still pissed and slightly bored with life in general. Too bad Jennifer told him that the mother had no idea of that innocent little love affair because that had made it far too tempting. He had to admit that her response was more than he’d ever expected because Belle roamed through the hotel suite like a volcano ready to erupt.
“I thought you knew…” he contrited, faking honest compassion.
“Knew what?” Her chest moved up and down rapidly as she made another spin and brushed through her long black hair, “Knew what?!”
“That he has fallen in love with that boy.”
For a moment he thought that she would lose it because she faltered in her movements, seemed to freeze and then shook her head wildly, spitting out, “That’s impossible. He doesn’t love that boy! My son doesn’t love a goddamn high school boy. Who the fuck is this Kenji anyway?”
Alec shrugged and brought some distance between himself and the woman, who looked like a strangely beautiful witch and said, “They met at the clinic and they are acting like teenagers in love. I heard they spent the night at the treehouse.”
Arabelle Trainour felt like something had shot an arrow through her heart. All this time everybody told her how wrong it was for her to love her son so intensely and now they all seemed okay with this? With this boy, who had no right to be there? She felt betrayed and reeled slightly, which had Alec fear she would stumble and fall. Nonetheless she pushed his hand away with a violent slap and screamed, “And they let them? I can’t believe that they would do that to him!”
In her mind she started to worry about him because obviously he was under some sort of force. She refused to believe or even dared to understand that affection because even though nature or society might have been against it, deep down it would always be them. Him and her and not some stranger. Belle had never met Kenji but she already hated him. Because he was attempting to take her precious son away. Probably blinding him with false promises, she thought and didn’t even realize that her nose was bleeding.
Her hand trembled when she ripped on the phone and dialed for the reception while small drops of blood started to trail down her chin. “This is Arabelle Trainour and I want you to get me on the next flight to Los Angeles.”
The concierge told her the next would go in forty-five minutes and asked her if she could make that schedule, “Yes, I can. Get me a cab, I’ll be down soon.”
She only grabbed her purse, which contained everything she needed anyway, her papers and a credit card that would get her everywhere. She was wearing a tiny summer dress that gave away how thin she truly was and no shoes when she stormed out of the room without giving Alec another look. After all he didn’t interest her.
Only because her name was Arabelle Trainour and she owned the card, the airport only reminded her to clean up before boarding rather than keeping her on the ground. She wiped the blood away in the nearest bathroom and stared into her reflection. Then she started crying. She wept hard until they called out her name through the speakers. She hated herself for agreeing to her father’s terms and now she wanted to make things right. She wanted him back because he was hers. From the day she gave birth to him and that was something nobody could destroy!
Spencer didn’t like mommy when she was losing her mind because it usually involved her screaming, crying, and throwing things at either one of her men inside the family. Therefore he only silently nodded when daddy hushed as she was finally resting, “Let’s go to the lake.”
In the early years their thoughts used to be in the same balance for his daddy was usually wasted and Spencer mostly excited. It had always been fun but they both were aware that things had rapidly changed. While for Spencer something strange was happening to his parents and mostly his mom, for his father the strangeness was most visible in the boy’s behaviour.
Eric Boone watched the six-year-old closely as they walked to the lake, which wasn’t really a lake but an artificial water reservoir that was supposed to look like a tiny version of a hidden lake. Trainour had built it years ago for a fortune and it was now mostly forgotten. Surrounded by a few imported and Californian trees the illusion would have been perfect if it weren’t for the dark painted wall in visible sight that clearly betrayed the image of vastness. It was just one of the many fake things within the Trainour family, though for Spencer it truly had been a beautiful lake. Eric needed a little more imagination and he always doubted the existence of life, let alone fish inside the darkened water, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway since Spencer was strictly against using anything that could possibly hurt the fish, and therefore their ‘fishing’ was merely throwing out some old bread.
The blonde, as always on such trips into the not so huge world behind the tree house, had his eyes mostly lifted up into the crowns of the trees. For him this was more than an adventure. It was a familiar freedom and even though things started to feel weird lately he seldom felt wrong. He had no idea that it had occurred to his father suddenly after almost six years of living in a sort of bubble, that maybe raising a child that way might not have been such a terrific idea.
For six years Eric had loved Spencer dearly but never really thought about the consequences of what they’d been doing him. The boy was just there and always fun. It felt great to be a parent and to fill a young mind up with his own wisdom, though both parents had a slightly different and often drunk clouded wisdom to forfeit. It had never particularly bothered him that Belle’s affection sometimes seemed a bit too strong because he honestly believed, at least in the first years, that her way of parenting was a spectacularly wonderful one since she shared her love so openly. There used to be a time where it wasn’t strange to watch them lying face-to-face and just caressing each other tenderly because that was all that it was.
Another joint, a few songs played with fairly decent talent on the acoustic guitar, that’s how life had been. Quietly, intuitively, happy, peaceful, but as Eric now realised painfully, wrong for a child. He couldn’t exactly say when he started to worry but as he watched him with that excuse for a teddy bear tugged tightly under his arm he felt it again. Something was wrong because six-year olds don’t have such an absent stare. They don’t have that quiet perception he possessed. Eric had watched him for hours and hours, just sitting in a corner in complete silence with Wicket in his hand and it had seemed as if he was communicating with the stuffed animal.
Eric remembered the day those two somewhat sad souls, found each other. It had been a good day, though maybe the first he actually noticed that something might be wrong with the blonde. Firstly, because Spencer hadn’t even been mildly excited by the idea of going to a fair but was more scared to leave the premises. His mother had teased him with old Gypsy stories and he had been slightly terrified by it though she had the endowment to take fear away and so he finally agreed on going.
It had been a small Carnival, with three tents and one shooting lodge. Somehow, possibly because of the drugs he had been using, Eric wanted to impress his kid and spent almost thirty dollars at the shooting booth until he was finally able to turn around and offer Spencer anything he want. His son had been more confused because he enjoyed the shooting all right but he had no idea which item to pick. There were so many toys but he just gave them a blank look because he really didn’t want any of it.
“Just take your time,” his father had urged, estranged that Spencer seemed forced rather than gifted.
“But… uhm… I don’t know, daddy,” he replied shyly and a little intimated by the owner of the booth and the various adults watching him closely.
“You can pick anything you want.”
Other kids might have been excited or would’ve had trouble to summarising it down to one choice but Spencer had trouble wanting something at all. Mostly because he had everything and he had preferred to watch his daddy shooting more balloons because they made such a loud noise that made his heart jump, a feeling he both had dreaded and enjoyed equally. The owner impatiently tried to keep his friendly façade and offered the blonde to come inside and take a closer look, which Spencer politely accepted. The way he orated himself made them all a little uncomfortable because it sounded wrong.
Eric remembered how he had watched with open eyes just like all the others, Spencer walking back and forth the booth, surrounded by dozens of stuffed animals and various toys to play with. Every now and then he tipped his index finger at a chosen object, just barely, and then paused as if he was waiting for an answer.
Spencer took an eternity to choose. For him it had become an almost sacred act and couldn’t be done too hastily. It didn’t come as a surprise since his mother always took hours to make decisions, she thought importantly and choosing a new toy that possibly could become a sort of companion seemed like an important one to the blonde. In the beginning people kept looking and waiting but eventually they all turned away since it took almost two hours in which Spencer carefully let his eyes wander from one stuffed animal to the next.
All of them looked shiny and bright with that inviting magic that worked so well on children but Spencer couldn’t help but think that they all looked scary as well. Somewhat conceited as they were hanging or standing and lying spread out in the small booth, proudly assuring that they’d be the right choice. He started to see them as various family members, thinking that he rather not share home with any of them.
They were about to give up when he spotted a small, brown teddy bear lying on the ground. Apparently it had fallen from a small shelf and from the sight of it had been lying there for a while. Every time the owner walked back and forth to hand new customers a rifle the stuffed animal got kicked around. It was compassion that made him say that he wanted that one to which the owner replied, “Oh, no. That’s an old one. We gotta throw it away.”
“But I want that one,” Spencer repeated and looked at his parents with pleading eyes.
The bear looked like a dying old toy and Eric had asked, “Why this one?”
“Because he’s lonely,” the boy answered and had already gave the toy gender and humanity.
Back then he had pushed it aside and even thought it was something great but the way Spencer bonded with Wicket often reminded him of this imagination, which seemed so much stronger than even that of his mother. Once again, Eric found himself amazed by those strong emotions, noticing how his son reacted impulsively, which seemed odd considering how much time he took, how much consideration. He always seemed to start with a blue print, very well structured and every time something emotional would turn it into something else, usually chaos when it came to the various games he used to play. Very often his father had watched Spencer carefully and theoretically forming a certain plot and plan but once he was actually into the game he started changing it, adjusting it to what he was feeling.
So many times his actions stood in contrast to what he tried to achieve and Eric couldn’t help but feel incredibly touched by it. There was such failure in most of it and yet Spencer never seemed to be bothered long enough to feel what would force others into defeat. Just like his mother, Spencer always aimed to be happy. The easiest way to achieve that was to ignore certain aspects, numbing them in various ways and making up a far more interesting world, filled with only things he enjoyed.
The worst similarity he and his mother shared was the complete lack of control in certain moments. It had been the reason why they didn’t go out very often. Eric, himself had only been outside the Trainour Mansion with the both of them on a few very rare times because there was no saying on who would eventually freak out. Though, those moments had the tendency of being absolutely intense and filled with excitement as well, which is why Spencer always enjoyed going to the mall with his mom.
Nobody ever dared to explain to him, even the meaning of being arrested and since all Officers had been nice to him he only saw it as something fun and was only scared when they briefly separated him from his mother. In most cases they were quickly reunited since they both made it clear, very loudly that they needed to be together. Eric had always felt torn between embarrassment and affection. After all he had fallen in love with Belle for those exact reasons. He had fallen for her craziness but seeing it handed over by blood freaked him out.
He often tried to see himself inside the boy but even if there was a part it was completely overshadowed by her presence, which made him love and sometimes even hate his own son. He became more aware of how easily the boy gained his mother’s attention after that day at the fair. In a helpless, childish way he had found himself even angry that Spencer who seemed ungrateful because after all it was his daddy who gave him Wicket.
Nonetheless there were clear moments, strange moments in which Eric felt incredibly sorry and ashamed for being such an insignificant part in this family.
A couple of weeks later things distorted even more.
They scared Eric because he knew that something about all of this was wrong. The first time Belle truly shocked him happened in one very hot summer night. They were having sex, which had always been, and amazingly despite all drug usage, something that worked fantastically between them. That the boy was often in the room never disturbed any of them. However, on that night Spencer for the first time didn’t sleep, played outside or silently with some of his toys in the corner, but approached them and asked in a rasping voice what was wrong with daddy.
Belle reacted by smiling at him broadly with a flushed face. She had been sitting on top of him, reached out for the boy and heaved him into her arms. Eric had frowned because it felt awkward to have sex while his son was sitting on top of him, wrapped up in the embrace of his mother who moved slowly and explained what was going on. Mostly because he looked so innocent and generally interested as if this was about baking a cake.
Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad had she not moved again and Eric could see the arousal in her eyes and her grip tightened. Her face looked weird when she laughed softly and said to her son, “You’re too young to understand that.”
“But I want to understand,” he had pouted back and Eric could feel him tensing in her arms in defiance.
She purred in his ear that it was love that they were making and that love looked like that. Everything could have been sweet but it wasn’t and Eric found himself alienated by it and croaked, “Maybe, we should not…”
Though, then she moved her hips up and sunk down, making him let out a heavy breath that had his son narrow his eyes in worry. Worry about his dad because he, of course, couldn’t comprehend the situation. That had been just one of the many moments she started to include Spencer more and more into their intimacy, selling it by making it seem like she was only explaining to him the basics of physical love.
Eric had felt frozen and as they walked down the lake he feared that he would never have the strength to interfere, even though recently he noticed a change in his son’s behavior. While in the beginning he had not seemed disturbed, there was now something behind his eyes that couldn’t be defined and could very well be a sign of a psychological consequence. He had definitely become more secretive, which was something his mother certainly didn’t like for she couldn’t explain it. Eric on the other hand had his suspicions.
Though, the boy was seemingly nowhere near puberty he assumed that a few things had started to change and therefore some reactions might have been disturbing. Belle had been in a mad mood for the last couple of days because Spencer had showed signs of retrieve from her affection. Only faintly and he always changed when she sounded disappointed and sad but still there was reluctance in his actions.
“That’s a good spot, right?” Eric suggested and received only a mute nod. He sighed over the lack of conversation but nonetheless smiled encouragingly, “Ready to catch some fish?”
There was a shrug in reply before Spencer sunk onto the stoned ground and started to play with some smaller rocks. Unlike most kids, Eric had watched his son never put them in a straight line but spread them out instead. There seemed to be no visible pattern but evidently there was a schematic in Spencer's head because he placed them carefully and after a moment of contemplation. Rock by rock he formed something that only he could understand. Sometimes he fluctuated and gave Wicket a questioning glare before he would nod and place the stone.
For a long while Eric simply watched him doing that before he said, “Can I ask you something?”
Spencer lifted his eyes and looked as if he was disturbed in concentration. It felt like a long time before he answered, “What do you want to ask me?”
“Are you happy?” Eric asked and put aside the bread and knelt before him.
The boy found the question strange and difficult to answer. Since he wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to say he decided on finding out more by asking, “What do you mean?”
“Do you like living here?”
“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, though still unsure as to why his daddy would ask him that. Mostly because he thought it was obvious.
“You seemed sad the other night,” Eric pointed out and waited, though already cursing himself for even starting that conversation. It felt so difficult to talk to him because he was so different than usual six-year olds.
Spencer blushed instantly because he had a secret and he wasn’t sure if it was safe to share that with daddy. A little uneasily, he shifted and almost unconsciously pulled Wicket into his arms to function as a possible shield before he replied, “I was,” because mommy always said that lying is bad, though mommy also made it a secret in the first place. He struggled because he wasn’t sure if it was all right to admit that.
“Why?”
There was no reply other than some reddish cheeks and lowered eyes because Spencer, as he shockingly realized, didn’t seem to trust him. Very slowly the small children hands started once again to rearrange the rocks, acting like the question had never been asked.
“Spencey, look at me,” Eric pleaded and when he locked eyes with his son he repeated the question very slowly, “Why were you sad?”
“I don’t know,” Spencer replied with a blank stare across the lake before he shrugged and added, “I’m not sad anymore.”
“Did mommy made you sad?” Eric asked and knew it was a thin line to cross. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to hear a reply but it certainly affected him deeply to hear him saying, “Maybe…”
“What did she do?”
“I don’t want to say,” Spencer stated and abruptly moved up, “Can we go back?”
“You can trust me, kiddo. Tell daddy what happened.”
“Nothing happened and that made her sad. I’m sorry that I made her sad, daddy,” the boy confessed and looked suddenly wretched.
At first Eric was only confused but with a little patience and a lot of soft words Spencer mentioned that things have changed lately but they are not ready. Despite his own clouded mind the father slowly pulled out small details and after turning the words of the child around he began to understand that with ‘things’ Spencer meant his body and it gave him a strange sting of heart. It all started to make horrible sense and Eric wasn’t sensitive enough but downright asked, “Did she touch you where you don’t want it?”
To which he didn’t receive an answer because Spencer had had enough of the conversation and where it might lead. Whatever happened that made him so sad he had pushed it aside already and was not willing or more accurately too young to deal with it properly. Besides, in his mind it hadn’t been so terrible. It was bothering him much more that his mummy had seemed to be disappointed in him. He really wanted her to be proud of him but last night she wasn’t. All of daddy’s questions sounded too focused on him rather than her and that confused him.
“Can we go home now?” Spencer asked impatiently and pressed Wicket closer to his waist.
“Do you really want to?” Eric found himself asking and felt a strong urge to take the kid and run away. He would have done it had Spencer not giving him a totally baffled look.
“Of course. Don’t you want to go home?”
“I’m not sure if it is the best for you. Don’t you want to leave?”
Far too young to even follow the idea, the blonde shook his head in utter shock and croaked, “Leave mommy?”
There was such fear in his eyes that Eric pulled back and pushed aside. Evidently the boy didn’t want to go so maybe he was only overreacting. However, Spencer had never seen anything else. Nonetheless Eric had been a drug addict and he was trapped inside this little strange family.
“No, I don’t want to leave,” Spencer stated resolutely and added, “I want to stay with you and mommy. Here.”
“But she makes you sad!”
“No,” Spencer now shrieked and covered his ears with his palms, hissing, “Stop talking like that. I love mommy and she loves me. She never makes me sad.”
He was six years old but unwavering and turned around on the spot, leaving his confused father back at the shore of the artificial lake. When they arrived at the house later there was a rift between them that over the next five years increasingly grew. Eric felt painfully aware of that mistrust in his son’s eyes and he witnessed how intensely Spencer tried to please his mother.
More and more he started to seek out her attention, even though she mostly provided it anyway. Too afraid to lose the two people he loved, Eric stayed. He drifted with them but knew and was made aware of it in subtle ways that he was only allowed to be around in the background. He started to take more drugs than ever because he simply couldn’t understand nor could he change that bond between them.
He knew for a fact and witnessed it quite often that the boy never truly enjoyed the moments where the intimacy would touch a certain taboo, though it only showed in moments where he felt alone. In constant silent communication with Wicket he would pull back in a corner and just be sad for a few hours. Nonetheless when she came back or woke up from sleep he changed. It only needed a few words from her, a smile or a tender touch and he suddenly seemed happy...
*
*“A toast to a miserable parenthood,” Eric Boone blurred drunkenly and crashed his whisky glass against that of Lawrence Trainour.
“You were a child just like her,” the older man tried to soothe down but knew he was failing. Besides in the end they were both bad fathers.
“I can’t believe that I lived there, watching it all go down and did absolutely nothing.”
Lawrence gulped and growled, “I didn’t do anything either. Hell, if it weren’t for Jennifer they’d still live up there.”
“Honestly I think they’d be dead by now. Just imagine if Jennifer hadn’t seen them. Sometimes I think it all sounds like a really bad movie. The Blue Lagoon or some shit like that.”
With another growl Lawrence emptied his glass and croaked, “It sounds more like fucking Greek mythology.”
“I guess you have a point,” Eric agreed and gave the bartender a sign to fill up. “But one factor is wrong isn’t it? Kenji definitely doesn’t fit an Oedipus complex.”
“Guess it’s the American version,” Trainour hissed with a cynical undertone in his voice and shook his head, “It’s probably best if she doesn’t find out.”
“What exactly happened? I mean, after she had an abortion. I’m always wondering why she didn’t came back for him.”
Lawrence Trainour was far too drunk to care about being secretive and he was tired of keeping everything inside anyway. He truly had thought that he had done something good today and the reaction of Spencer completely proved him wrong. Even though there seemed to be such improvement he still didn’t understand that boy. Just like he had never be able to understand his daughter. The whisky made his tongue dance as he said with dry smile, “There never was an abortion.”
“What?”
“She gave birth to the child,” Lawrence said and enjoyed for a few moments the dumbfounded frown before his voice darkened and he explained, “It was a boy and it died. I mean it came out of her and there was never a fucking sound. Doctors weren’t able to determine whether or not it was the incest factor or the drugs or the fact that she was almost starved to death that killed it.”
“Him,” Eric said quietly, “Killed him.”
“No! It! An abomination, goddamn it. What the fuck was she thinking? In what fairy tale was she living? She wanted that bastard child; even fucking called it a love child. She was completely insane. We had her institutionalised. That did it eventually. She didn’t like being locked up and after six months she agreed to leave the country. I gave her a golden credit card and told her to never come back and you know what the worst is? She never said she was sorry. She claimed that they belonged together at the very last day that I saw her. Ever since then I ask myself when my daughter became a lunatic and a child abuser. What went on in her head? We’re the Trainour's and not some fucking hillbilly family!”
Lawrence paused and calmed down his anger because it would only lead to pain. He lifted his tired, inebriated eyes and admitted, “Sometimes I wished we should have sent him away because with her we could just numb, but not this boy.”
“Why the sudden interest, Lawrence? I mean you pretty much ignored him after he moved to the clinic.”
“Because of the same reason that you are here. Guilty conscience. Besides, we both know you can’t just easily label him retarded. He showed all of us in certain moments that there is a brilliance behind that weirdness that’ll be worth to discover.”
“You used to say that about her,” Eric pointed out and received a deadly glare.
“What are you saying?”
“Nothing. You know, you are right. Besides there shouldn’t be a question since we have to make it right.”
Lawrence laughed and the sound of that hilarity made Eric’s blood freeze because it lacked everything that is needed for a good laugh.
“Apparently we are making everything wrong. It’s that fucking teenager that reached him. Sometimes I really wonder if it was genetic or because of what his mother had done that made him turn into a fag.”
“They remind me of him and her. He depends on this boy. You know, maybe it just really is love. Kenji seems to be in love judging by his reaction,” Eric replied with a shrug and a little less conservative view.
By already ordering yet another drink Lawrence grunted, “So, what happens if the high school boy stops liking the crazy one?”
“What do you think?”
“I think that it will break my grandson, your son, into a million pieces. Which is what my lawyers and beloved family would love to see because they want the boy out of the picture. Completely out of the picture. Locked up, tied up and far out of sight.”
“Your family was always lovely,” Eric snarled sarcastically and shook his head, “Maybe they’ll stay together. It seems to me that Kenji has a little more moral fibre than we had.”
“It doesn’t feel very well to know his destiny is in the hands of that kid.”
“Better than in our hands, though,” Spencer's father admitted sadly.
“I really thought he would be happy to see you.”
“I expected it to be worse.”
“So, Eric, tell me what shall we do?” Trainour asked and straightened himself, shifting with the dizziness inside his head.
“Support them, I guess. If that means stay away we should stay away. But the question is, what happens if she finds it out? What if one of your precious siblings ran into her wherever she is and tells her that Spencer loves someone else? What do you believe she would do?”
Trainour thought of his daughter who was currently not in India but in Thailand. He had people around her, protecting and watching her and any one of them could have gossiped it out. However he doubted it because one thing was sure, if she would hear such a rumour she’d call her sister. Nonetheless the thought made him feel slightly sick since the sheer mentioning that Spencer might feel more for someone else would surely trigger all of her seething vast variety of disorders at once.
*
*
When did it all change?
Spencer wondered as he was lying mutely on Kenji’s bed, curled up like a baby and not in the mood to even lift his eyes. He used to think that his dad was the funniest person in the world. There had been an easier time in which laughing hadn’t been straining but came as easily as breathing. Though breathing felt straining now, mostly because he was tired. From the corner of his eyes he could see Kenji next to the bed, sitting on a chair with his eyes closed. Spencer felt sorry for him because he knew that Kenji was only patiently waiting for him but he wasn’t ready to talk or push aside all of his emotions.
His daddy had always been nearby and that realisation made a lot of things worse. It made that pain worse because of that dreadful question as to why his father never came to see him. Somehow he had an idea why but it would require remembering a blank page of his past that he was afraid to fill up with a story. Especially not now, not while everything had been going so perfectly. Perfect with Kenji, Spencer thought and carefully lifted his eyes, watching the younger man sleeping deeply.
It used to be easier. It had always been easy for the blonde to push bad things aside once they seemed to overwhelm him but not this time. It had been far too real to simply ignore it and yet he wished he would be able to. He felt weak because of his outburst at the church and embarrassed as well. He had acted like a baby in his mind and it forced him to retreat once they had gotten back to the Miyagi residence. Quickly, without saying a word he fled upstairs where Wicket was already waiting and he kept on holding to the stuffed animal because so far it had always been there. Besides the bear was directly connected to his dad.
His mom named him Wicket becuase of her strange love for the sport of cricket. Spencer surprisingly didn’t care about the name and simply accepted it as a fact. It made him just happy to have some to talk to, someone else than her but that was something he carefully kept to himself. His dad had carried both son and toy up to the attic at the main house when they came back from the fair. It had been a good day and a good memory, Spencer thought as he remembered his dad placing a soft kiss on his forehead as he put him to bed. The blonde never once noticed that his father had felt estranged by his behavior.
“Kenji?” Spencer hushed softly and shifted a little as he was waiting for a reply. He suddenly felt the urge to talk to Kenji or more accurately to be near Kenji. Those last hours in which he coped with what had happened made him feel a distance that he didn’t like.
“Hmmm?” Kenji slurred and budged in his seat before he lifted his eyes. Tiredly he rubbed them before he croaked, “Hey.”
“Hey,” the blonde replied in a lowered voice and braced his head on his palm.
Slowly Kenji’s body started to fill up with energy and he shook his head to speed up the awakening process. He cursed himself because he had fallen asleep. His eyes searched for the alarm clock and he noticed that it was already two A.M. It had been hours since Spencer talked to him and in some moments of this waiting Kenji had feared that maybe this time it wouldn’t work as usual. That maybe this time the blonde wouldn’t be able to snap out of his despair. In a rasping voice he hushed, “How are you feeling?”
“Confused,” Spencer confessed honestly and added, “Would you come sleep next to me?”
Kenji smiled cautiously because he wasn’t sure on how much Spencer was still suffering from that loss he had felt but happy because he obviously wanted him close to him. He moved up and stretched the sleep away before sinking down on his bed, lying on the side to face the blonde and whispered, “It was a long day.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For screaming and yelling and for not being stronger.”
For a moment Kenji was startled then he felt such a heavy wave of compassion that it made him reach out to softly caress Spencer’s cheek. He couldn’t help but think that the blonde looked so much younger in that position.
“There is nothing you have to be sorry for. Absolutely nothing. I am sorry that you had to go through this.”
“I’m still sorry and I’m embarrassed,” Spencer whispered in a faint voice.
“But…”
“Please, don’t. Don’t find excuses for me. I should have known. I just hadn’t expected it to hurt so much,” the blonde confessed helplessly.
“I’m not finding excuses for you,” Kenji orated in a subdued whisper and leaned closer to place a soft kiss on Spencer’s lips, “I just don’t want you to feel embarrassed for an emotion.”
“I used to believe that one night I would fall asleep and never wake up. It feels a bit like someone has just woken me up. Like someone poured cold water over my head. It’s not a dream, is it?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I thought I’d be happy to see him. I don’t know what happened but suddenly I felt very, very angry.”
Kenji shifted, wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him closer, saying, “That’s understandable.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. I mean after all that has happened you have the right to be angry.”
“I don’t think I do. I think I know why he left. No. I know why he left and that makes it all so difficult. It makes it difficult to be angry with him because it was my fault. And her fault. We made him leave. At least I think we did,” Spencer conceded in a shaken voice.
“Don’t say that. It’s not true. You were just a child,” Kenji comforted but received a woeful look. He seemed to be sorry that Kenji obviously didn’t know how much guilt his shoulders carried. Maybe that was the reason why he had reacted that intensely. Deep down Spencer felt unease that Kenji might agree with his father one day. Or his Grandfather.
“Why does that make a difference? I mean, I never ran away. I never even wanted to run away.”
“Then he should have made you or simply taken you with him.”
Spencer gave him a slightly absent stare before he let himself sink on his back and growled, “That’s the problem because I think I would not have gone with him.”
Then he unexpectedly snatched one of the two pillows and placed it over his face, made a sound of defeat and sighed, “It’s just all so complicated.”
Kenji couldn’t help but smiling softly while he pulled the cushion away and said, “You should stop blaming yourself.”
“I can’t push it away, Kenji. I could always do that, you know. But now it doesn’t seem to work. It’s still there and it hurts. It just hurts,” the blonde pondered, frustrated.
“I always wondered how you do it. How you push all of that aside and be able to be happy. Maybe you have to give it a bit more time?”
“You wondered?”
“Of course. Things that make me sad usually stay longer but with you they seem to fade as quickly as they surface.”
“I just stop thinking about them,” Spencer explained and snuggled closer to Kenji by adding, “It just didn't work today.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t try pushing it aside.”
“But then it won’t stop hurting,” the blonde stated flatly and made a face, “And the longer it hurts the more it hurts and I just… I just can’t feel like that anymore. It makes everything feel rotten and wrong. But I’ve got so many good things around me. I don’t want to make them seem bad only because I can’t be stronger. He’s my dad, Kenji. Why wasn’t I able to just talk to him?”
“Because you are angry. You were sad a long time but seeing him made you angry and it’s about time.”
“But being angry isn’t good!”
“It might not be good but sometimes it’s necessary,” Kenji handed out his wisdom, though unknowingly speaking more of himself than Spencer because he definitely was angry and needed to be angry even.
“I don’t understand that,” Spencer croaked and shrugged, “It doesn’t feel good. It only makes everything feel wrong. It feels like a fire is burning me up and I just want to scream. I don’t like feeling like that. I used to feel angry and it never helped or eased the pain. Why should it be doing any good now?”
Kenji wasn’t exactly sure whether or not he should kiss or slap him. What he was saying sounded so perfectly right in theory. In the younger man’s opinion, though anger was just as important as any other emotion. Besides he found himself wishing that Spencer would understand that somehow.
“Why don’t you scream?” he therefore suggested and was confronted with a blank stare.
“What?”
“I don’t know, maybe it’s what you need. To let that anger out a bit.”
“You want me to scream?” Spencer cocked an eyebrow as he sat up and thought about Kenji’s suggestion. He could still feel that knot in his throat and that pondering pain inside his chest. Would that go away if he screamed and most importantly what was he supposed to scream, he wondered and made a face, “You make me feel stupid.”
“What? Oh, no, I didn’t mean to make you feel stupid,” Kenji hastily replied and sat up as well, reaching out for the blonde’s hand.
“If I start screaming I’ll wake everyone up.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“Really?”
Kenji needed to hide a smile because Spencer was still looking so serious, which took away the idea of a spontaneous anger release. It was already turning more into a twenty questions as the blonde asked, “You don’t think they’d think I’m stupid?”
“Nobody in this family thinks you are stupid. You really should know that by now,” Kenji said and it sounded like he pouted.
“I really don’t like to scream.”
“You have no problem screaming when you are a pirate,” Kenji pointed out and received a disapproving glare.
“But I’m not a pirate, am I?”
“No, you’re not,” Kenji admitted and this time couldn’t help but grin.
“Would you kiss me?” Spencer suddenly asked and Kenji was the one with the confused facial impression.
His hesitation made the blonde lower his eyes with a blush and he hushed, “Just kiss it all away.”
There was something so profoundly strange in those words that Kenji found himself bewildered.
“Kiss what away?”
“Everything that hurts. I want it to be that easy.”
Spencer couldn’t look into Kenji’s eyes for he had repeated a sentence that used to make him shiver when it had been said to him. He knew he shouldn’t do that but he couldn’t help but think that it felt strangely right with Kenji. Back when she spoke those words it used to prompt a switch in his head. He wondered if Kenji felt the same way but he stayed silent and waited.
“It’s not going to be that easy…”
“How would you know? It always worked before. I’d like to stop feeling like this. I’d like to feel like I felt this morning, with you. I saw you crying before you fell asleep,” the blonde alleged and noticed Kenji’s surprised face, though went on, “I didn’t like that. I like to see you smile.”
Very softly Spencer started to graze his index finger over Kenji’s lips and shyly breathed out, “Because it makes me smile as well. Can’t it just be easy?”
Kenji watched him silently and felt his touch like a breeze of soft air caressing his skin but he didn’t know what to say. Of course he wanted nothing more than to make it easy. If a kiss would be able to provide that even better. Nonetheless he didn’t move because he started to suspect that it would only bury it slightly under the surface, inevitably making the pain worse once he’d feel it again.
“You have to learn to deal with those emotions,” he said instead and felt Spencer’s utter disappointment when the blonde pulled away.
“Why?” he asked defiantly with a curled lip.
“So they won’t come back to haunt you.”
Frustrated and in a child like manner Spencer rolled his eyes and crossed his arms before his chest when he laid back, “It’s too difficult and I don’t even know how. How do I deal with it?”
Good question, Kenji thought with mixed feelings and tried to come up with a brilliant idea but his mind seemed blankly out of order.
“Maybe you can tell me what you felt?” he suggested unsurely.
Spencer wasn’t sure what Kenji meant. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell Kenji how he felt when he saw his dad again and utterly certain that he wouldn’t want to talk about how he used to feel about his dad. He let out a growl in anger when he felt something growing inside his body, knowing that it were tears that he would rather not cry. He just didn’t really know what Kenji wanted from him and very much preferred his idea to kiss all the pain away. To kiss and touch and feel only the good thing but instead Kenji suggested talking and thereby thinking about the bad and the ugly as well. It sounded so heavy and he couldn’t help, but for the first time in months he wanted to be someone else so he could slip away from that sorrow.
“I can’t,” he simply stated sternly.
“Why not?”
“Because I just can’t!”
“Okay,” Kenji said in a soothing voice and softly touched his hand before he added, “You don’t have to. But… I don’t know how to explain this but I’d rather not kiss you just because you want a bad feeling fade. I mean, don’t get me wrong I always want to make you feel better but…” Kenji paused and took a deep breath before trying to explain how he felt. “Usually when we kiss it leads to something. I mean it has recently always led to something. I sometimes wonder if you know how I feel when we are that close. It feels like a million butterflies raging inside my stomach. It’s because I love you so much that sometimes when you touch me it hurts, even. Not in a bad way it’s just so intense,” his voice cracked slightly because Spencer seemingly listened closely, which made it a bit harder. “I want you to be happy and not in despair in those moments. Can you understand that?”
Spencer couldn’t take his eyes from Kenji because he was touched by those words. It stood so much in contrast to the relationship with his mother. He couldn’t help but feel his voice rasping with some tears when he said, “I think I do. But can’t you see that once you kiss me I feel the same way?”
“I just don’t want to do something you might regret later,” Kenji sighed, a little defeated when Spencer started to kiss him.
“I think that you are the one who woke me up from a dream and not my dad,” Spencer hushed while placing soft kisses onto Kenji’s face, “Because everything feels more real with you, even the bad things but they are not so bad as long as I know that you are with me.”
“Spencer…” Kenji really wanted to keep a certain distance because he instinctively knew that Spencer needed to find some closure regarding his dad and what he had felt this afternoon, but every word was caught by an eager kiss.
“Please…” Spencer whispered in such passion that Kenji was completely helpless against the seduction. He could not deny how heavily he desired him and could not fight it either. There was still so much unsaid, so much to deal with and so much to be careful about but instead Kenji found himself devouring the blonde passionately when he stopped resisting and reasoning.
It just didn’t feel wrong and every move, every touch was filled with pure tenderness. The relentlessly moving time seemed of none importance to the two lovers, caressing each other with explorative hands as if they felt each other for the first time. In a way it was even since the heat overwhelmed them, made them breathless and Spencer gasping out, “Kenji… please…”
“W… what,” was the breathed out reply.
Spencer had no idea how to answer it and shifted instead to rid himself of his pants. Kenji blinked and thought that the blonde felt different and looked different as well. Somewhat more mature, maybe. His entire face was flushed with a heavy glow as he started to press his waist against Kenji’s body, whispering, “I love you. I love you so much.”
Kenji became aware that Spencer wanted something from him but he wasn’t sure what it was. His mind struggled with his own arousal when he used a moment to take a deep breath and asked, “What do you want me to do?”
It was just a look and a tremendously big risk, especially now in this particular moment and Kenji frowned at first. He wasn’t sure whether he should ask or go by instinct and wasn’t sure if he should even consider and yet he was lying almost on top of him and felt that heat that seemed to stream out of every pour. He shifted slightly and brushed his palm over the wet, blushing face, “You said you didn’t like it.”
There, it was out and he was glad because it had to be said because Kenji couldn’t stand seeing Spencer in tears just like that first time. His body was trembling solidly and he could barely make out who was moving more rapidly. Hot breath touched his skin and their sweat merged in the intensity when Spencer very faintly hushed, “I don’t know if I will.”
“But…”
“It’s here,” Spencer suddenly said, pushed him aside a bit and pointed at his stomach, “It’s burning and I think… I…“ because he couldn’t find the right words to explain he found himself choosing some of hers because with Kenji they sounded right. “I just want to be close to you. As close as it gets.”
Kenji wasn’t happy that in that exact moment he thought of his parents sleeping next to his room or his brother only one room apart. Up until now everything could have been hidden easily should someone maybe storm in. What Spencer wanted and what made Kenji slightly light-headed would afford more effort than touching each other under a blanket.
He bent down to kiss him and pushed up his hips to feel the nakedness and almost lost balance when Spencer only purred, “Closer.”
Overwhelmed Kenji needed a minute, resting his head on Spencer’s chest just for a second. He inhaled sharply before he started to let his finger dance over the blonde’s chest. There was a tense and he could feel it but didn’t look up but fingertip-by-fingertip moved further down. He let his hand brush carefully, tenderly over the blonde’s erection and went on until he slid between his thighs.
Kenji kept his head on his chest; listening to the slowly increasing heartbeat the more he prepared him. He first lifted his eyes when he pulled his hand back and slid between Spencer’s legs. Their gaze met and he said throatily, “This might hurt…”
Spencer only pulled his head down and kissed him. He opened everything to the core of his soul because someone once said that only in such a moment you are truly connected with the one you love most. He believed it in that moment because he loved Kenji the most. His head felt finally able to push aside everything bad of this day, obtaining only the stored memories of a wonderful beginning.
He let out a yelp of pain, a soft whimper and Kenji instantly faltered, only to feel Spencer’s arms wrapping around him, “…K… Kenji… please…”
Kenji felt him tensing. It felt hard to even attempt to talk because he felt completely wrapped inside him, sinking deeper and he panted, “Breathe.”
Spencer complied and breathed out, forcing his body to relax. His eyes fluttered closed by a sudden blindness and he groaned out when all that was left to feel was Kenji. Their lips found each other in the embrace and while fallen into a deep kiss, Kenji started to move his hips. The blonde instantly reacted by panting deeply into his throat and his entire body replied in a profound affect since he arched up his waist.
By now everything else had completely lost all meaning. It was solely about the two of them. It was about the presence and not the past or the future because nobody could ever take it away. Barely aware of anything but Spencer, Kenji didn’t even realize that there were tears mixing with his sweat drops. He was even more overwhelmed by Spencer’s strong grip, as if he would never let him go. Despite the steamy heat that thickened the atmosphere around them, the more Kenji increased the pressure, Spencer never let go of him and he felt his hands clawing into his skin.
Kenji had never felt anything like it when Spencer started to wither beneath him. In all the times he done that particular thing it had been done usually quicker, faster, maybe with little more aiming for the end before the beginning. This was completely different because he felt Spencer’s orgasm. He felt the blonde’s muscles contracting, convulsing and reacting to him so fervently that it forced him to moan out and he sincerely did not care about his parents anymore.
It felt like something had electrified them and as a result to Spencer’s fingers boring down into his back Kenji’s body was rattled with a thunderbolt. Like opposite poles they seemed to be tangled within each other and when it was over and everything became quiet, except their vibrating breaths, it felt like they decided to simply never let go again.
Eventually Kenji reacted and slid down, knowing that his parents must have heard. Yet, he couldn’t get rid of that smile once he looked into Spencer’s face. There were no tears and there was no despair. Instead the blonde watched him, peacefully at ease with everything around him and even if it may not last, it promised hope.
“Are you happy?”
“Yes, I am.”
*
*
While Kenji held Spencer tightly in his arms, rocking him tenderly to sleep a few thousand miles away Spencer's mother was not at ease with the world. She was in a rage and her face was not flushed with arousal but with fury as she snarled out, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
She was talking to Alec, who decided to visit Belle in Thailand mostly because he was still pissed and slightly bored with life in general. Too bad Jennifer told him that the mother had no idea of that innocent little love affair because that had made it far too tempting. He had to admit that her response was more than he’d ever expected because Belle roamed through the hotel suite like a volcano ready to erupt.
“I thought you knew…” he contrited, faking honest compassion.
“Knew what?” Her chest moved up and down rapidly as she made another spin and brushed through her long black hair, “Knew what?!”
“That he has fallen in love with that boy.”
For a moment he thought that she would lose it because she faltered in her movements, seemed to freeze and then shook her head wildly, spitting out, “That’s impossible. He doesn’t love that boy! My son doesn’t love a goddamn high school boy. Who the fuck is this Kenji anyway?”
Alec shrugged and brought some distance between himself and the woman, who looked like a strangely beautiful witch and said, “They met at the clinic and they are acting like teenagers in love. I heard they spent the night at the treehouse.”
Arabelle Trainour felt like something had shot an arrow through her heart. All this time everybody told her how wrong it was for her to love her son so intensely and now they all seemed okay with this? With this boy, who had no right to be there? She felt betrayed and reeled slightly, which had Alec fear she would stumble and fall. Nonetheless she pushed his hand away with a violent slap and screamed, “And they let them? I can’t believe that they would do that to him!”
In her mind she started to worry about him because obviously he was under some sort of force. She refused to believe or even dared to understand that affection because even though nature or society might have been against it, deep down it would always be them. Him and her and not some stranger. Belle had never met Kenji but she already hated him. Because he was attempting to take her precious son away. Probably blinding him with false promises, she thought and didn’t even realize that her nose was bleeding.
Her hand trembled when she ripped on the phone and dialed for the reception while small drops of blood started to trail down her chin. “This is Arabelle Trainour and I want you to get me on the next flight to Los Angeles.”
The concierge told her the next would go in forty-five minutes and asked her if she could make that schedule, “Yes, I can. Get me a cab, I’ll be down soon.”
She only grabbed her purse, which contained everything she needed anyway, her papers and a credit card that would get her everywhere. She was wearing a tiny summer dress that gave away how thin she truly was and no shoes when she stormed out of the room without giving Alec another look. After all he didn’t interest her.
Only because her name was Arabelle Trainour and she owned the card, the airport only reminded her to clean up before boarding rather than keeping her on the ground. She wiped the blood away in the nearest bathroom and stared into her reflection. Then she started crying. She wept hard until they called out her name through the speakers. She hated herself for agreeing to her father’s terms and now she wanted to make things right. She wanted him back because he was hers. From the day she gave birth to him and that was something nobody could destroy!