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    Young Sage
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Black Star Cross - 13. My Teddy Bear


Black Star Cross



Chapter 13: My Teddy Bear



Oh no. The spirit of Christmas is now gone. How depressing. Whatever shall we do? In case you were wondering, that was all sarcasm. I never bought into the whole “Christmas spirit” crap. It’s just another holiday that Hallmark raped until it gave up all sentimental value. Now it’s just another Hallmark holiday. The only reason for its existence is for people to spend even more money on a whole bunch of people. No wonder the Jews love this time of year so much.



I can’t say that my Christmas was bad though. I woke up early Christmas morning to the sounds of Stephanie and Erik running downstairs to see what “Santa” brought them. I could hear Emmy shuffling slowly behind them, muttering that it was too early in the morning and that she was getting too old for this. I figured that I should wake up Anthony, being her nephew and all, so that he could see what “Santa” brought him as well.



We all made it downstairs; the children already separating the presents between theirs and everyone else’s. When Emmy gave the okay, they started tearing apart the wrapping paper on their presents. I took this time to notice a few things. Namely, the fact that there were not a lot of presents to begin with. I hope that this didn’t hurt Emmy’s budget much. I guess this time of year must be hard for her, financially. The kids each had probably only three presents each, and I bet that they cost her a pretty penny. I guess that they were used to getting so few presents, compared to what I usually get.



Anthony got down on the floor next to the other presents and started passing them out. I was genuinely surprised that there were a couple presents for me. I didn’t expect Emmy to give me anything. I was already living under her roof. That was a good enough present already. I was surprised again to see that not all of my presents were from Emmy. One or two of them were from Anthony. I saw him smile at me when he handed me the presents he bought. He also handed a few presents to Emmy as well. Now I was feeling extremely cheap and ashamed, for I didn’t get them anything. I could’ve made an effort to get something, but I spent the entire week inside, doing pretty much nothing.



I tried apologizing to them for not getting them anything, but both dismissed it immediately. They said that they knew that I had practically no money whatsoever. They didn’t expect me to get them anything. After all, it’s not like I’m family to them. It would’ve been a little bit weird. I knew that there was no point in arguing with them, so I conceded to their point.



I got to talk to Kimberly later on that day. Apparently, Emmy and Kimberly’s friend’s parents swapped phone numbers so that we could still keep in touch. Now I’ll admit, I never really spent copious amounts of time talking to her, but just hearing her voice made me happy for some reason. It’s good to know that she’s doing well.



She asked about Mom. She wanted to know when we’ll all be back in the same house again. How could I answer that question? How could I tell my little sister that I don’t know when we’ll be a family again? If ever? I just answered “Soon.” and that seemed to work with her.



Yeah, so...my Christmas was good. I’m starting to get used to the routine here. Not that there’s much to do. Get up, eat, do some chores, kill some time, go back to bed. Anthony was at least able to get out of the house. He still tried to spend some time with his friends when he could. I, on the other hand, had no friends, so I was basically confined to the inside of the house.



That’s not to say that Anthony and I never talked. We did plenty of that when he was home and there was nothing to do. Our conversations ended up being light and informative. It wasn’t like we were trying to seduce each other. Nothing, so far, has led us to start acting like we did the day Anthony got here. Instead, we just talked nonchalantly, getting to know each other more. Subconsciously, we were just trying to become better friends. We both probably brushed it off as just something to do to kill time.



Unfortunately, there had been no kisses, no subtle touches, no hidden eye contact, nothing in a romantic or intimate way between us. We never slept in the same bed together. He rarely ever sat on my bed when we talked, too. It was like all those times that we’ve been intimate with each other simply never happened. It was very discouraging to me. I hoped that Anthony was not playing it off as another denial ploy again. I was starting to enjoy not yelling at him every single day.



A week before classes started, I got a phone call. It was from Mom. She claimed that she was doing better and was allowed to see Kimberly and me for a day. She had already called Kimberly and she wanted to go see Mom. I knew that Mom did this so that I’d feel trapped into seeing her as well. Needless to say, I was not all too keen on the idea. But, I decided to go anyways, even if it’s just to see Kimberly. Maybe Mom would go easy on me if she’s there.



Since we were all forbidden from all being in our house together at the same time (due to some weird temporary custodial rules), Mom decided that we would meet at a local restaurant. It would be late since she still had to work and go to her AA meeting for the day, but it was the best she could do. When I told this to Emmy, she said that I could drive her car. It’s been so long since I’ve driven, but I assured her that I’d take good care of it.



We ate dinner late at the diner. It was an awkward meal. Nobody really knew what to say. At least, I didn’t know what to say. Mom and Kimberly seemed to be reconnecting really well though. Mom would occasionally look my way and try to include me in the conversation, but I would only mutter a few sentences. It was a strained meal. At least we didn’t break out into a fight.



After we assured her that we were doing fine, it was time to leave. It was really late now. I hoped that I wouldn’t wake anybody up when I came home. As I drove home, I thought about our dinner. What should I make of it? Was what happened a good sign? A bad sign? Is she trying to make peace with me? Or simply ignoring me?



I arrived home and went inside and up to my room. I wasn’t quite expecting to see what I did. It wasn’t too absurd. Anthony was still awake and sitting on the edge of my bed. Although, now that I think about it, that WOULD look creepy in any other context.



“Hey.”



“Hey, dude.”



“Why are you still up?”



“I couldn’t get to sleep.”



“So, why are you on my bed then?”



“I don’t know. I thought that I’d try a different mattress.”



“You didn’t seem to have any problems sleeping in your own bed last night.”



“Yeah, well, that was last night, dude.”



I tried thinking of the real reason why Anthony was on my bed at this hour. But I couldn’t think of any reason why. But I just had a strong hunch that he wasn’t telling me the whole truth.



“I guess that your bed just feels more relaxing,” he said.



Why would my...



Wait! I had a flashback to the night Anthony slept at my house. When I woke up in the middle of the night and checked up on him, he had the kitchen light on and the blinds open. I remember thinking that he was afraid of the dark. Was that it? Is that what this is all about? But wait, none of the lights were on when I came home. So, what’s going on here?



“Anthony, I know that you don’t handle the dark very well,” I said. I saw his eyes get really big, so I assumed that I was right. “If it helps you fall asleep faster, you could’ve turned on the hall light or something.”



“I am not afraid of the dark!” he said, defensively.



“Hey, whoa there. I didn’t say that you were ‘afraid’.”



“No, but that’s what you practically said!”



“Well, you DID leave the kitchen light on and open the blinds when you were at my house.”



“How did you know that?”



“I woke up in the middle of the night and came down to check up on you, to make sure you didn’t steal anything.” I replied, with the emphasis on “steal.”



“Hey! I would never steal anything from anyone! I don’t know what kind of guy you think I am, but I am NOT one of those guys that steals!”



“Okay, okay. I get it. But back to my point. You don’t have to be ashamed of being nervous in the dark. I don’t mind if a little light is on.”



“What the fuck, man?! I told you, I’M NOT AFRAID OF THE DARK!”



“Would you mind keeping it down? Everybody else is asleep.”



“Dude, I’m just having trouble falling asleep. That does NOT mean that I’m afraid of the dark.”



The way that he said it, it was final. There was no arguing his statement. It wouldn’t be any use. Plus, I still wasn’t totally sure why he didn’t turn on a light tonight. Or why he was on my bed. He said that my bed was more relaxing to him? Why? I’m the only one who uses it. It couldn’t be THAT different from his. I think they’re the same brand. What makes mine so special? He yawned.



“I’m starting to get tired now, dude. So just drop it, okay? I’m not afraid of the dark. I’m going back to my own bed.”



Now he’s tired? What, am I THAT boring? Am I some sort of Sandman?



Wait a minute. Is that it? AM I some sort of Sandman to him? I think that’s it. That’s why he couldn’t sleep tonight, of all nights. Yes, I still believe that he’s at least a little bit afraid of the dark. But he hasn’t turned on any lights during the night since he’s been here. The reason? Because I’M in the same room with him. As long as he has company, or maybe it’s just as long as I’M there, he feels “relaxed” enough to fall asleep. I remember reading somewhere that when a spouse has to leave the other for a night, the other will bring the away spouse’s shirt to bed with them. The scent of the away spouse is on the shirt, relaxing the other to sleep. I bet that’s why Anthony was on my bed. My scent is definitely on it, and that could probably put him to sleep. When I showed up, he had his company and started to get tired. Wow, I should become a detective when I grow up.



I thought about telling Anthony about this, but I figured that he’d just get madder and nothing would get through anyways, so I stayed quiet. I fell asleep soon after that.



I woke up around my usual time the next morning. When I went to get out of bed, I felt something unusual around my chest. I lifted the covers to see an arm and a hand draped across me. When I leaned back, I could feel something against my back as well. I turned around and saw Anthony sleeping behind me.



What was going on here?! Why is Anthony sleeping in my bed, with me still in it!? Why is he...spooning me? Another side of my brain thought: Why doesn’t this happen more often?! I had to shut that part up really fast. But I have to admit, he did smell good. And feel good; he was so warm. His breath kept tickling the backside of my neck. He sure wasn’t afraid to get close. I decided to just stay there and relish in the moment.



Unfortunately, something I find myself saying often, that moment of paradise didn’t last long. My movements must’ve woke him up. But the strange thing was, was that he didn’t immediately jump out of bed and start yelling and denying. He just...sorta stayed there. We both knew that the other was awake, but neither of us wanted to move, or let go. I wondered if he really wanted to stay like this, or he was just too sleepy to notice what was going on. I think it was the latter because soon, he yawned, sat upright, and started to stretch. THEN he realized where he was.



“Aw man. Sorry dude. Did I wake ya?”



“No, I woke up first.”



“Oh.”



“Um, Anthony?”



“What?”



“Why are you in my bed?”



“I woke up again and couldn’t get back to sleep. I decided to just sleep on your bed, seeing as how it feels better than mine. I figured I wouldn’t want to wake you up, so I just slipped in.”



“Oh.”



Makes sense.



“But, why were you holding me?”



“Huh?”



Uh-oh.



“What’d I do?” he asked.



“Um, a couple of minutes ago, when I woke up, I felt your arm around me. You were really close. We were practically snuggling.”



BAD word to use right now.



“Shit! Fuck! We were?! I didn’t mean to do it, dude, I swear! I even purposely turned around last night so that I wasn’t facing you! Oh man. How did that happen?”



“I don’t know. Maybe it was something in your dreams?” I offered.



“I don’t even know if I dreamt last night.”



We sat there in silence. What could we do? What happened, happened. There’s nothing we could do about it. Not that I would’ve done anything differently. Maybe this is Anthony’s body’s way of telling him that he does have feelings for me. I really hope so.



I figured that now would probably be a good time to tell him about my theory from last night. If nothing else, it would at least give him some reason as to why he did this. I did this, and Anthony didn’t like the idea too well. Basically, he thought that it was just a deviation of the whole “afraid of the dark” thing. He claimed that he didn’t “need” me to fall asleep. But I could tell that my words did have an impact, somewhat. He wasn’t so adamant about what he said this time around. He was really questioning whether what I said was true or not. I could tell that he was really hoping that I was wrong. I sure hope that he didn’t see that I was really hoping that I was right.



I really have to stop putting all my faith on this small sliver of hope, that Anthony really does like me enough to want to start a relationship with me. But every time I think that, I also think: It’s worth it. If I’m right, it will be worth it. And that is why I keep holding on.

As original creator, I own rights to these characters and this story. Any actual products in the story I do not own, and belong to whomever actually owns them. Replication of this story is prohibited. Any characters resembling real people, living or not, is coincidental. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is rated M for mature themes, so if you are not allowed (or do not wish) to see such material, then please go back now. You have been warned.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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On 02/22/2014 04:45 AM, Suvitar said:
Must agree with Daithi, they are just that.
*cackles* You all thought I was dead, but I'm still alive and able to get notifications for reviews! As I said with Daithi, I made sure people didn't see Shawn and Anthony as two saints. I wanted them to be real teenagers and real teenagers don't always act rationally, as if trying to resolve all their plot points before their "season" ends. Feel free to slap either one of them. If you haven't noticed by now, most of their problems are their own fault and they're too stubborn to see that. Shawn's mom is trying to salvage her relationship with her son, but he's doing everything he can to push her away, which only serves to negatively affect her as well. Shawn's sister was probably in school when Shawn's mom came to visit. A lot of this story is just looking at how two separate guys view manliness and how they conform to and reject those notions. This will even eventually extend to Keith (spoiler alert: Keith becomes more prominent as the story continues). Thanks for the reviews thus far and thanks for giving this old story a chance!
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