Chapter Four
Gerard’s P.O.V
I walked back from the drug store clutching my prize. It was cold, very cold and snow was starting to fall. Big, fat snowflakes that fluttered like winter butterflies around me. I clutched my jacket to my chest wishing Id had the foresight to pick up my scarf. Despite the bitter cold though I felt warm inside, I had Mikey, my Mikey, at last.
It was quite late when I got home, the house was in darkness. I made my way down to my basement and tossed the paper bag onto the nightstand. I flicked the stereo on and lit a cigarette and smiled to myself, I never in a million years thought things would turn out like this. All the pain of watching him for all these years just dissolving into our first kiss. I know it’s wrong, of course I do. But when you are growing up and all you have is each other you see things a little differently. It just took me a while to understand that the pain I felt was passion.
I kicked off my shoes and settled down on the bed, tossing my cigarette butt into the ashtray. I watched the smoke curl hypnotically as I lay there. Alone with my thoughts, and for the first time in a very long time that felt okay.
“Gerard, are you back?”
Came the whisper from behind the bedroom door. I leapt from the bed and opened it. There stood Mikey in his pyjama bottoms. I grabbed his hand and pulled him through the door, locking it behind him. We had to be quiet, the parents were home. Our lips crashed together as we kissed passionately, falling onto the bed which banged the headboard hard into the wall behind it. Mikey giggled as I rasped SSHH!!!! There was a shuffling sound from above, we had obviously disturbed someone. We lay completely still, just the sounds of laboured breathing filling the quiet night.
After a few moments of listening Mikey pulled himself up on his elbow and leaned over me, he stared into my eyes, my soul. We didn’t move, we just looked at each other for what seemed like a lifetime, then slowly and softly he kissed me. It was the most gentle of kisses, not the frantic passion we had experienced up until now, but a slow, soft kiss. The fluttering in my stomach increased as he gently stroked the side of my face. Slow. Steady. Passionate.
He noted the plain brown bag on the nightstand and smiled. Reaching over he peered inside and his smile grew bigger. It was going to be a good night.
I walked back from the drug store clutching my prize. It was cold, very cold and snow was starting to fall. Big, fat snowflakes that fluttered like winter butterflies around me. I clutched my jacket to my chest wishing Id had the foresight to pick up my scarf. Despite the bitter cold though I felt warm inside, I had Mikey, my Mikey, at last.
It was quite late when I got home, the house was in darkness. I made my way down to my basement and tossed the paper bag onto the nightstand. I flicked the stereo on and lit a cigarette and smiled to myself, I never in a million years thought things would turn out like this. All the pain of watching him for all these years just dissolving into our first kiss. I know it’s wrong, of course I do. But when you are growing up and all you have is each other you see things a little differently. It just took me a while to understand that the pain I felt was passion.
I kicked off my shoes and settled down on the bed, tossing my cigarette butt into the ashtray. I watched the smoke curl hypnotically as I lay there. Alone with my thoughts, and for the first time in a very long time that felt okay.
“Gerard, are you back?”
Came the whisper from behind the bedroom door. I leapt from the bed and opened it. There stood Mikey in his pyjama bottoms. I grabbed his hand and pulled him through the door, locking it behind him. We had to be quiet, the parents were home. Our lips crashed together as we kissed passionately, falling onto the bed which banged the headboard hard into the wall behind it. Mikey giggled as I rasped SSHH!!!! There was a shuffling sound from above, we had obviously disturbed someone. We lay completely still, just the sounds of laboured breathing filling the quiet night.
After a few moments of listening Mikey pulled himself up on his elbow and leaned over me, he stared into my eyes, my soul. We didn’t move, we just looked at each other for what seemed like a lifetime, then slowly and softly he kissed me. It was the most gentle of kisses, not the frantic passion we had experienced up until now, but a slow, soft kiss. The fluttering in my stomach increased as he gently stroked the side of my face. Slow. Steady. Passionate.
He noted the plain brown bag on the nightstand and smiled. Reaching over he peered inside and his smile grew bigger. It was going to be a good night.