Awesome Accidents [6a/?]
anonymous
August 31 2009, 11:25:51 UTC
The next morning, Dad woke him up at nine. Breakfast was made for him, a simple plate of pancakes covered in syrup.
Peter took a few gulps of his Papa’s coffee before the tall man shuffled into the kitchen with an old pair of work boots on, beads of sweat slithering down his forehead and following the lines of his cheekbones. Must have been up all morning working again.
Papa worked as a police officer full-time with wood carving and mechanics on the side to earn a few extra bucks if need be. Lately, he was waking up at insanely early hours, went into their shed to work on a half finished table to replace the old one in their kitchen, did whatever made his ‘wife’ and son happy after they all ate breakfast, and left for his police job by three.
“Good morning, dear.” Dad chirped, pecking his husband on the cheek. Peter laughed at how silly they looker together; his Dad, grinning like a madman while standing on his tiptoes, (in an apron) kissing his Papa, who was incredibly tall, covered in dirty work clothes and sweat, and had slightly stiffened at the gesture, giving a faint blush.
In most of these types of relationships that Peter had seen, the ‘Papa’ of the couple acted like his Dad was. And vice versa. The teen shook his head and brushed the thought away. His family was weird and backwards; so what? So was he. It was normal.
“‘ n’tic’d th’t m’ c’ffe’s onl’ h’lf f’ll. P’t’r…” His Papa’s voice was playful, showing that he (and apparently his wife as well) didn’t mind that the teen was drinking coffee. Most of his friends’ parents flipped at that. But what did they know?
Pater looked up to see his Papa’s slightly-smiling face stare down at him as Dad took a seat at the table too. They all ate in silence for awhile; though Peter wasn’t stupid. He knew when his parents were rubbing each other’s thighs under the wooden structure. It wasn’t that hard to figure out. He may be a little niave, but the shaggy blonde knew when certain things crossed the lines of innocent.
Speaking of certain things…
Peter looked up to see if he could get someone’s attention. And as if his mind was read, Papa was already staring back, opening his mouth to speak.
Right on time.
“H’ve ta g’t p’ly’r’th’n’ fr’m th’ st’r’ n’xt. W’nt m’ ta dr’p ya ‘ff at th‘ h‘sp‘t’l?” Papa mumbled, seeming to have better speech with a mouthful of pancakes than he would have without.
He nodded. “Sure thing, Papa. Let me just throw some clean clothes on.” He stood from the table, put his plate in the sink, and sprinted to his room.
-
“If Papa drops you off now, how are you going to get home later, Peter?” Tino asked worriedly, brushing an invisible speck of dust from his son’s shoulder.
“Al promised to take me over that idiot Arthur’s house after for a little while. I should be back after dinner.” He smiled and ran out the door. The hell with asking to rides, he had a few bucks, he;d take the bus. Dad was just over-protective sometimes.
He waved to his Dad and dog as Papa’s truck pulled out of the driveway.
-
Peter took his time going through the hospital this time. He was scared and nervous. What if Gilbert hated him for running away? What if he did that on purpose so they wouldn’t have to be friends anymore? What if he was just growing into a big sexually frustrated pervert like Arthur and Francis? There was no telling and the ‘What if’s wouldn’t stop.
“Hey, little one.” A loud voice boomed through his skull and rattled the negative thoughts from his mind. “You look real down today. Something you want to talk about?”
It was that security guard, grinning down at him like Feliciano does on pasta day at school. Come to think of it, they did look a lot alike. Strong tanned hands found their way to the small teen’s soldiers and clamped down on them.
“I’m fine, sir.” Peter looked down at his shoes. Oh, what a lovely shade of black they were today. That loud voice snapped him out of his thoughts again, making him look up at the man.
“Well if you ever need anything you’ve got a lot of good friends here.” He smiled. “That boy you came here to visit before, he’s leaving today, kid. So smile a little bit, it’s not that bad.” The man kept his hands to himself again and sunk back into his chair by the door, looking quite ready for a nap.
Peter took a few gulps of his Papa’s coffee before the tall man shuffled into the kitchen with an old pair of work boots on, beads of sweat slithering down his forehead and following the lines of his cheekbones. Must have been up all morning working again.
Papa worked as a police officer full-time with wood carving and mechanics on the side to earn a few extra bucks if need be. Lately, he was waking up at insanely early hours, went into their shed to work on a half finished table to replace the old one in their kitchen, did whatever made his ‘wife’ and son happy after they all ate breakfast, and left for his police job by three.
“Good morning, dear.” Dad chirped, pecking his husband on the cheek. Peter laughed at how silly they looker together; his Dad, grinning like a madman while standing on his tiptoes, (in an apron) kissing his Papa, who was incredibly tall, covered in dirty work clothes and sweat, and had slightly stiffened at the gesture, giving a faint blush.
In most of these types of relationships that Peter had seen, the ‘Papa’ of the couple acted like his Dad was. And vice versa. The teen shook his head and brushed the thought away. His family was weird and backwards; so what? So was he. It was normal.
“‘ n’tic’d th’t m’ c’ffe’s onl’ h’lf f’ll. P’t’r…” His Papa’s voice was playful, showing that he (and apparently his wife as well) didn’t mind that the teen was drinking coffee. Most of his friends’ parents flipped at that. But what did they know?
Pater looked up to see his Papa’s slightly-smiling face stare down at him as Dad took a seat at the table too. They all ate in silence for awhile; though Peter wasn’t stupid. He knew when his parents were rubbing each other’s thighs under the wooden structure. It wasn’t that hard to figure out. He may be a little niave, but the shaggy blonde knew when certain things crossed the lines of innocent.
Speaking of certain things…
Peter looked up to see if he could get someone’s attention. And as if his mind was read, Papa was already staring back, opening his mouth to speak.
Right on time.
“H’ve ta g’t p’ly’r’th’n’ fr’m th’ st’r’ n’xt. W’nt m’ ta dr’p ya ‘ff at th‘ h‘sp‘t’l?” Papa mumbled, seeming to have better speech with a mouthful of pancakes than he would have without.
He nodded. “Sure thing, Papa. Let me just throw some clean clothes on.” He stood from the table, put his plate in the sink, and sprinted to his room.
-
“If Papa drops you off now, how are you going to get home later, Peter?” Tino asked worriedly, brushing an invisible speck of dust from his son’s shoulder.
“Al promised to take me over that idiot Arthur’s house after for a little while. I should be back after dinner.” He smiled and ran out the door. The hell with asking to rides, he had a few bucks, he;d take the bus. Dad was just over-protective sometimes.
He waved to his Dad and dog as Papa’s truck pulled out of the driveway.
-
Peter took his time going through the hospital this time. He was scared and nervous. What if Gilbert hated him for running away? What if he did that on purpose so they wouldn’t have to be friends anymore? What if he was just growing into a big sexually frustrated pervert like Arthur and Francis? There was no telling and the ‘What if’s wouldn’t stop.
“Hey, little one.” A loud voice boomed through his skull and rattled the negative thoughts from his mind. “You look real down today. Something you want to talk about?”
It was that security guard, grinning down at him like Feliciano does on pasta day at school. Come to think of it, they did look a lot alike. Strong tanned hands found their way to the small teen’s soldiers and clamped down on them.
“I’m fine, sir.” Peter looked down at his shoes. Oh, what a lovely shade of black they were today. That loud voice snapped him out of his thoughts again, making him look up at the man.
“Well if you ever need anything you’ve got a lot of good friends here.” He smiled. “That boy you came here to visit before, he’s leaving today, kid. So smile a little bit, it’s not that bad.” The man kept his hands to himself again and sunk back into his chair by the door, looking quite ready for a nap.
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