Mickey - 12. Chapter 12

It wasn’t as big of a place as Mickey had expected from the fancy address. Being a modern building, it was one of those condos that had a straight-through view from the front door, with an open kitchen connected to a living/dining room then a view out to Dolly’s back yard beyond.

And she wasn’t to be denied for very long. As soon as they opened the solid wood door she bolted through the kitchen, jumped over a coffee table and then flew out the doggie door. There was just the clanging of the swinging plastic flap as the only evidence that she had even been in the room.

“Clean-up duty in the morning,” Drew said as he kicked off his shoes and checked the thermostat. “I turn it down when I leave, but it warms up pretty quick. Are you cold?”

“No, I’m actually kind of warm right now, maybe it was the trek over here. What about you?”

“Same. Maybe my brains been spinning too much today and overheated my body,” Drew replied, then continued. “By the way, that’s the bathroom there, towels and stuff like that are in that closet next to it, and the guest room is next to that.”

After he had pointed out a few more useful items about the house, he turned again to Mickey. “Are you sure that you’re not cold?”

Mickey didn’t answer. He just kicked off his shoes like Drew had done then put his arms around Drew’s neck and pulled them close.

It was definitely an ambush, but it wasn’t like there was complaint or resistance. He was focused on getting Mickey orientated but it was clear he could be distracted, too.

Jill had thoughtfully brought Mickey’s backpack to their ‘hideout’ at Andrew’s and had stuffed it with a night’s worth of clothes and some of his toilet sundries. ‘Just like Mom,’ Mickey mused to himself, she was about the last person in the world from whom he’d expect such a thoughtful gesture, though with Jill he could never be sure of the hidden agendas.

Drew wasn’t thinking about any of that when he pushed the pack off Mickey’s shoulders and it hit the ground with a thud.

Just like at the park, Mickey could not get enough of him. Their tongues danced in and out of each other’s mouths as their hands explored their fully clothed bodies. Even through the multiple layers of t-shirt, polo shirt and leather jacket there was no question of the hardness of the body underneath.

Mickey slipped his hands down and began to unzip the front of Drew’s jacket. It was going down so smoothly and easy, he thought to himself.

Then he stopped.

“Whoa,’ he whispered, catching his breath at the same time as they pulled apart. It didn’t seem like a long kiss, but the passion and energy that they both put into the kiss was enough to quickly get each of their bodies desperate for oxygen.

Drew just smiled nervously and Mickey knew instantly that it was the right decision. He had stopped just in a nick of time.

“How do you feel?” Mickey asked.

Drew’s hand reached over and wiped Mickey’s hair off his forehead. “Never better,” he replied between breaths. “God, I love holding you…’ he said as he then lowered his arms around Mickey’s slim waist, wrapping his fingers in the belt loops as he dreamily twisted and pulled them.

It was almost surreal where he was. ‘Time to pounce!’ one side of him was screaming, including his sometimes painfully hard, aching dick. After spending so much time together that day, he felt as if the front of his underwear might be almost soaked through with pre-cum.

But the other side of him was putting on the brakes, at least temporarily. As much as he wanted to devour this guy, Drew had never had sex with anyone before. How would he handle it? Would he feel like he was in control? Was he ready?

There was another thing on his mind, too.

The first time he had sex with a guy it was a desultory experience, with someone who could hardly look at him but seemed to like his body. Mickey didn’t want Drew to have that kind of experience. Drew’s first time would have to be perfect, special, something he’d remember for the rest of his life. He deserved that! But now was not the perfect time.

His hands stroked either side of Drew’s face.

“We can take it easy, babe. I know this is all new, so you need to feel comfortable, like it’s the right time.” He said, his fingers now running through Drew’s hair. “We can go at any pace you want,” he said. “There is a lot happening right now, a lot to take in.”

Drew’s eyes looked down as he paused. Then he looked back up at Mickey. “What pace to you want to go?”

Mickey drew a deep breath. He didn’t really know how Drew would react to so much happening so quickly. There was no doubt of his affection. But a lot was happening to someone for the very first time.

In the end, he decided the only thing he could do was to be honest.

“I can go at any speed you want Drew, because I know that you’re the guy for me. I don’t care how long I have to wait, because I know that in the end, we’ll be together,” he said, the blond hair coursing through his fingers.

“But you’re in a different place than I am, so I don’t want to rush you on anything, especially, um…physical stuff, and especially right now with all that’s happening. It’s important that we do whatever we do at the right time and that you feel like you’re ready.”

Drew was holding his breath, then he let out a long sigh. “I think you’re right, I’m not sure how much I’m ready for now,” he said. Then his grip on Mickey’s waist suddenly tightened. “But I do know that I’m ready for this,” he said as he pulled them into another deep kiss.

                                 ***

After the grand tour of the place and the feeding of a famished Daisy, Drew pulled a couple sodas from the fridge and they sat down together on the coach.

As Drew plopped down into his seat, he put his drink on the coffee table and leaned his head onto Mickey’s shoulder. Then he just sighed.

‘Damn, he’s exhausted!’ Mickey said to himself as his arm went around Drew’s shoulder, pulling his limp frame even closer.

Without any words, they just sat there next to each other. Daisy lay on the floor in front of them, one of her paws on his foot.

In the space of only a few hours, Drew’s life had been turned upside-down. He had his personal counseling records exposed on every major news network and political and social website in the country, came out as gay, and, crucially for him, received a hostile response from his father. And on top of that he was very likely to lose the very fortune that got him his notoriety in the first place.

In the end, Mickey was confident that Drew could push through all of it. But what about the collateral damage? He was about to turn his head and speak when, suddenly, Drew felt very heavy.

He was asleep.

For a moment, it was a relief that Drew could find any rest, but then he had to figure out how to keep him sleeping, which amongst other things, meant keeping him warm. Daisy was doing her duty on the feet, but there were only two objects within reach – their jackets, previously flung over the back of the couch after they arrived – that could be used in some way to cover the rest of him.

Doing his best to keep the right side of his body stationary, Mickey stretched out his left arm but couldn’t quite reach either one. Because they were stacked on top of each other, if he could snatch one, he should eventually be able to retrieve both.

In the meantime, Drew had slumped onto him even further. The top of his head was now pressing against face, the blond hairs gently brushing against Mickey’s scars. Where the skin had retained some undamaged nerves it almost tickled. But now he felt even more limited in his ability to snag the jackets.

Keeping his head stationary, he reached his arm out as far as he possibly could, his fingers splayed out and jumping from left to right, hoping to snag either the leather of Drew’s jacket or the cotton cloth of his own.

After searching in what seemed like every possible direction, his index finger finally made contact with what felt like a zipper.

‘Eureka!’ he said to himself,

There was no choice but to move his whole body just a fraction of an inch in order to pinch the smallest fragment of material. Taking a deep breath, he slowly, almost glacially, tilted his body until he could get just the tiniest bit of material,

Once he was able to accomplish that, he still had to be careful that he didn’t tug so quickly that he’d pull Drew’s jacket out from underneath his own and so lose the second one, or maybe even lose both. So, inch by inch, and still operating only by his sense of touch, he pulled the stack closer and closer, until, finally, he was able to get a good grip of his own jacket on top.

‘Phew!’

He wasn’t a lefty, so working only with that hand was awkward. But he was eventually able to stretch Drew’s own jacket across his lap, while the other covered his torso and as much of the shoulders as he could reach.

Snuggling himself as close as possible to contribute his own body heat, he just leaned in for the night.

He knew he’d be cold himself. But that didn’t really matter.

                                 ***

As he awoke, he couldn’t tell what time it was but felt strangely warm. He didn’t want to turn his head but just held himself still and held that way for a few minutes until he somehow realized that Drew was no longer next to him. Eventually turning his head, all he saw was an elaborate stack of pillows and seat cushions that had kept Mickey himself straightened up. For how long, he had no idea.

But what really surprised him was when he looked down. There was now not only a proper blanket wrapped around him, but it was carefully tucked into every nook and crevice, insulating every square inch of his body, even his feet. He was bundled up almost like a mummy, or how he’d seen pictures of the swaddled children of the indigenous peoples of Alaska.

To top of all off, there was the smell of bacon and eggs cooking. Leaning his head back, he tried to take it all in. Here he was, waking up on the couch in Drew’s condo. Did what he thought had happened yesterday really happen? Or was it all just a dream?

Before he could even answer himself, he heard footsteps, along with the clanging of the metal tags on Daisy’s collar.

“You’re awake,” Drew said, dropping down on one knee so that he was eye-level with him. “Are you still cold? Or maybe too warm? I can add a blanket if…”

“No, it’s perfect, Drew, just perfect,” he replied, resting his head on the coach, not wanting to get up if only because it would destroy the almost origami quality of the bedding work.

Drew put his hand on Mickey’s knee. “Did you sleep all right? When I woke up, you looked cold, even shivering a little bit, so I wasn’t sure that you were sleeping. But you didn’t seem to be aware of me, and your eyes were closed, so then I knew that you were out.”

“Ahhh…’ Mickey yawned before he answered. Then his head straightened up and he looked at Drew.

“Last I knew, you had fallen asleep, but you were barely covered so I put the jackets on you. Were you warm enough? Did you sleep OK yourself? I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were.”

“Like you said, it was perfect,” Drew replied, softly.

“Hey, do you have some cream for your face? You probably didn’t have a chance to put it on las night. I’ll put it on for you if you want.

“Yeah, I think that Jill packed it away, but I’ll have to dig it up. I can put it on when I get up. It doesn’t feel too bad, actually.”

“Good. But if you want me to do anything just let me know.”

Neither said a word for a few moments as Drew stroked his thigh. Then Mickey, reluctantly, felt like he had to come back to reality.

“Is anyone outside?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should turn on the TV to find out,” Drew replied, only half joking. “I peeked out the window this morning and it looked like they had all pretty much lost interest, though I wouldn’t rule out a surprise at any time.

“Well at least we got in unmolested last night,” Mickey replied.

After the word ‘unmolested’ came out of his mouth, he cringed inside. He wanted to try to avoid any sexually connotative words, both to keep pressure off Drew and to not feed his own lust and hunger for the stud inches from his skin.

Reaching over to Mickey’s head and tussling his hair, Drew asked, “Well, at least we’re safe for now. Ready for breakfast?”

“I’d kind of like to stay here on the couch for a bit longer, if that’s OK. It’s nice and cozy. Plus, you did such an artistic job with this. I want to delay as long as possible before I dismantle this work of art.”

Placing his hand on Mickey’s thigh to push himself up, Drew laughed. “It’s just very functional, I think. But get up whenever you like and breakfast will be ready, I’ll cut up the bagels right now and we can toast them whenever you’re set.

As Drew walked back to the kitchen, Mickey let out a sigh of relief. His morning wood was never harder, and if Drew’s hand had hit just an inch higher on his leg he wouldn’t have been surprised if his dick had spontaneously erupted.

                                 ***

‘This is going to be a problem,’ he thought to himself, recalling his thoughts from the evening before.

After rousing himself from the couch and digging into his backpack for the cream, Mickey hit the bathroom. It seemed to take forever to get his dick soft enough to pee, and he wondered if Drew might suspect anything. But after finally stuffing it back in his shorts, he looked at himself in the mirror. In spite of the unkempt hair and two-day growth of stubble on his face he noticed his own eyes, and how wide open they were. He had never felt more alive.

The scars were still there, of course. But for the first time in years, he was really beginning to feel that they maybe didn’t matter.

“Help yourself to anything you want,” Drew said as Mickey finally made it out to the kitchen. He was juggling a pan in one hand and spatula in the other as he finished off the scrambled eggs, waiting to spread them onto a waiting bagel. Two strips of bacon were already prepared on a nearby paper towel, the rapidly absorbed oil covering almost two-thirds of the surface after only a few moments.

“Just like old times,” Mickey said, recalling the scrambled eggs and bacon sandwich that Drew had brought him the first day of his convalescence.

Mickey smelled the aroma and smiled, but didn’t go close to the stove.

Drew just smiled. “I can’t guarantee that mine are as good, but at least I can tell you that they’re not going to be cold.”

“So, what are you going to have?”

“The same,” he replied, “just without the bagel.”

“Well, let me get the plates,” Mickey replied, reaching to open what looked like the most promising of the gleaming white cupboard doors.

It was a rather large kitchen for a condo of this size, and, curiously, he found that many of the cupboards were empty. Drew motioned for him to open one other set of doors, where he finally found rows of neatly arranged French bistro glasses, along with two columns of stacked plates on the shelf above.

The fact that about half of the cabinets were empty was somewhat mysterious to him, especially since the other ones seemed jam packed. The only traces of occupancy on the empty shelves were small brownish particles that looked like the detritus from wine corks.

“Sorry it’s a bit tight there, I’ve been doing some…um… re-arranging. It’s kind of a work in progress,” Drew said as Mickey closed the slim, modern door and it clicked shut.

His voice sounded oddly nervous to Mickey, almost like he made up the answer. Why he would feel that way, Mickey had no idea. But he just assumed some very understandable fatigue and let the comment pass.

“No worries. I think that I got everything,” he replied.

At least it was Saturday, so neither of them had to figure out how to cover missed classes or get around campus in an inconspicuous way without being accosted. Having a simple breakfast together was great, as they were both able to finally put the tension of the unknown behind them, at least temporarily.

As they talked through breakfast, it felt to Mickey like he had known Drew his entire life, the conversation flowed so smoothly. They spent the time like any couple at breakfast, with the conversation ranging from gossip about their friends to what they might do for lunch.

But they couldn’t avoid what was lurking outside the door and the little bubble that they were creating inside.

“Mickey, I need to let you know something about my situation now that it looks like my family will cut me off,” Drew said as they were finishing the meal.

“That’s not for sure, though, is it Drew? Mickey asked. He didn’t want to appear naïve as to the consequences of what was happening, but at the same time he didn’t want to encourage an early capitulation either.

“Knowing what I know about these people, I think drawing any other conclusions would be wishful thinking.” He was staring at his empty glass as he unconsciously rolled it around on its segmented base around the table. Then he cleared his throat.

“My Dad will certainly cut me off from the trust that he controls, so I really don’t have anything of my own except for some cash that my mom left me, about $100,000, and some land in southern Ohio, Appalachia.

“How much land?”

“Jeez, it’s a lot… like 2,000 acres. It’s really hilly down there, but very scenic, with a big cabin right on the shore of the lake. It’s a retreat in the best sense of the word.”

“That’s a big spread, Drew. And it sounds like it could be a lot of fun,” Mickey replied. But he was also thinking of something else. Quickly putting the numbers together in his head, Mickey knew what the problem was before Drew even got to it.

“It is a great place. Casey and I spent the summers there with our mom. There’s the lake, which is kind of long and thin, like a small version of the Finger Lakes in upstate New York, a pretty good-sized cabin, and not much else, which is what I like about it. It’s off the grid, so has solar collectors, propane heat, that kind of stuff. It was our refuge, and it was really fun when my dad could make it out there, too, and it was just our family.

And she loved it too,” he added, reaching down and stroking Daisy’s head. She had plopped down next to him when they started the meal. Out of loyalty or waiting opportunistically for dropped food, Drew didn’t claim to know which. But Mickey’s presence didn’t vary her routine.

“It’s a great gift, and I’m really lucky to have it,” he continued, still staring at the glass, “But I don’t have any income right now and the taxes will eat up what I have in about two years. And that’s putting nothing into upkeep and maintenance.”

Just what Mickey thought.

“I’d hate to lose it, but I don’t see any way to hang onto it right now. And that’s counting on the university forcing my dad to pay my tuition, which is the one thing that he’ll have fork-out. I don’t think that he’d make a big stink about that and put the university into the position of giving financial aid to a billionaire’s son. But there won’t be a nickel outside of that, especially if my stepmom has anything to say about it.”

He let out a deep sigh, like some burdensome secret had just been revealed.

“This place really means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Mickey asked. The wheels were already turning in his head. ‘Let’s see: if we could live cheap we could use my earnings from next summer for about a half year’s taxes on the land. Between that and what Drew has in the bank we’ll just make it till my graduation. Once I start work we’ll be making a lot more money and we should be able to handle it,’ he quickly calculated.

“Yeah, it does…you know…,’ Drew replied, then cut himself off.

“What?” Mickey asked.

“I…” Drew replied, looking at Mickey, but stopped himself again.

“Tell me more about this, I mean, what are you thinking?”

Drew’s voice was tentative at first. “I’ve dreamt so much about being with you. Like all the time. I even had our life planned out. After the other night, when you told me about wanting to go back home, I thought we could live back there and have your mom live with us and our kids, then we could spend weekends and summers down at the cabin.” He looked at Mickey then looked down at the glass, which was still rolling around in his hand.

“Go ahead, Drew, say more about what you’re thinking,” Mickey said.

His mouth was dry, like he had already said too much. But the encouragement seemed to open him up.

“We could go down there with the kids on breaks. It’s a great place for a family, so much stuff to do for everyone. It’s where I learned to swim, and there are great hiking paths, some small cliffs, even a cave. Casey and I used to make up stories about who lived there,” he said, a small smile now appearing. “And there’s all sorts of other fun things to do, too. I think they would love it!” he said, then seemed to catch himself again.

“Damn, Mickey, I‘m getting way ahead of myself. I hope this doesn’t scare you,” he said quietly, like he was trying to soften the emotions.

Mickey did a fist bump into Drew’s hand on the glass. “I…I mean ‘we’…don’t need to go back to Cleveland, Drew. We could raise a family anywhere that you’d like. Going back there is just my own thing; I was just talking. I know that you’re trying to make it seem like makes sense, it’s just…”

“…Very important to you!” Drew interjected. “Mickey, except for that land, there’s no other place that seems like home to me. New York sure doesn’t. But you have a place that IS important, and I would be glad to go there with you. I was, like, so happy that you told me where and how you wanted to live. Even though I was worried about you that night, your ideas give me a place to focus on and fantasize about.”

Mickey pulled his hands back and folded them across his chest. He thought about certain questions when Drew broached the subject of kids, then decided that it was crazy to ask about it. But then, impulsively, he decided to get all his cards out on the table.

“How many kids should we have?”

If he could have grabbed words out of mid-air and put them back in his mouth, this is the one time that we would have done it. But it was too late.

Drew looked at him out of the corner of his eye, a hesitant look on his face. Mickey wasn’t sure if he could ever recover from his question, until Drew finally spoke.

“Um…maybe four?” We could have them ourselves or we could adopt. I hope that’s not too much for you. But I really like kids, and I think that you’d be a great dad.”

Now Drew looked like he was unsure of how far he had pushed things himself, as it was obvious that he, too, couldn’t help saying the words. It was like they were building on each other’s momentum.

“Do you really want more than that?” Mickey asked, just to make sure that Drew wasn’t holding back.

“No, four is good. But if we have more, I won’t complain.”

Mickey paused and smiled before he spoke. “Me neither,” he replied, one of his own deeply buried hopes now shared with Drew.

He couldn’t quite figure out how they had gotten into a serious subject like this so fast. At first, it scared him. Maybe it was just naïve, juvenile enthusiasm, he thought to himself, an emotional outburst.

But that wasn’t who either of them was. And it was obvious that the anticipation of a life together wasn’t just from himself. It felt warm just thinking about it. Until Drew brought him back to the present.

“It’s all a great plan, Mickey. I love it. But I think we’ll have to do without the land.

Mickey paused for a moment, his eyes moving in the way they did when he was calculating.

“There might be a chance to keep it. Drew,” he said. “Let me see what you think of about this…”