16 comments/ 17999 views/ 18 favorites Silent Shout By: city_bird Author's note: I promise I haven't quit writing Unrequited! I have the entire story outlined, and ready to go, but I have the attention span of a squirrel and the idea for this story kind of smacked me in the side of the head! This is just a one-off wander into another world, so I can think more clearly when I resume Unrequited. Thanks again for all your support, and I hope you enjoy the story of Davey and Oliver! Warning: this story is a little dark! There are some touchy subjects involved, and I'm certainly not out to offend. Keep in mind it's purely fictional and meant to provoke thought on the complications of human interaction and emotion. Pleeease, no angry letters! Thanks again (again!)!!! - your city bird Davey I wasn't born this way. I used to have a voice. But it was stolen from me. I was always quiet. And I didn't make many friends in junior high because of it. If I could give you a definite number of the times I heard "Cat got your tongue?!" or taunting whistle of "Silent Night", I would. But I lost count. I stopped caring. Because I had Oliver. Aside from my parents and close relations, only Oliver knew my voice. Oliver was my safe haven. The way he would wrap me in his arms and gently ruffle my hair with his cool fingers and whisper in my ear, "My Davey," made me feel completely at ease–something I felt the real world could never offer me. Before I knew what love was, I was in love with Oliver. When I entered high school, my hushed reputation preceded me. Even the teachers knew. Even Mr. Jameson. I was always the last person to leave a classroom. I wanted to have as little interaction with my peers as possible. All I wanted was return to the comfort of Oliver without any obstacles. On that day, I should have left with the others... I was sliding my books into my shoulder bag as the last of Mr. Jameson's world history class filed out the door. It was just like any other day. The warmth of the spring sun flooded through the windows and warmed my skin. I couldn't wait to spend that weekend out in the sun with Oliver. There was something so comforting about nature. Things happened so randomly and yet so regularly. Organized chaos. My daydreaming was interrupted as I heard the sound of the classroom door slam and lock. I looked up to see Mr. Jameson standing by the door, staring at me. I had never seen anyone with that look in their eye before. I had known kindness and I had known hatred, but this... I had never known such a darkness until I knew Mr. Jameson. "So, David, I'd like to talk to you," he smiled as he started walking toward me, "I'm going to go ahead and be upfront. Are you a mute? I never received any sort of memo about a disability, yet I have never heard you utter so much as a 'Mhmm.'" I winced as I continued to put away my things. His tone of voice was terrifying me. It was so full of menace, and so pointedly directed at me, that it alone almost physically hurt. I simply shook my head as I slung my bag over my shoulder. "You're not going to answer me? If you're not a mute, then you should be able to answer me. Show some respect!" he yelled, his anger flaring up. For such an ordinary-seeming man, he was showing such vile colors, "I might be young for a teacher, but you should show me at least a fucking shred of respect!" His voice was getting louder and he was getting closer to me. No one had ever spoken to me like that. Maybe if I said something, he would just stop. Maybe he would let me go. My body was shaking as he approached me, towering above me just on the other side of my desk. "No, sir," I said. It was barely above a whisper and my voice was shaking. I hated the way I sounded when I talked. But Oliver always knew what to say to make me feel better about it. I stared down at my feet as I noticed Mr. Jameson stop moving in front of me. "Ahh, so timid. And so... beautiful. That slender body, and," his tone changing abruptly into something somehow even more horrific. I saw the shadow of his arm move across my desk before I felt his warm, clammy palm on my cheek, "that lovely face." I turned away from his vile touch as the smell of sweat and cheap cologne filled my nostrils. I felt like retching on the linoleum. I felt his hand leave my cheek, and I was filled with a momentary relief. Until I felt that same hand violently twine in to my hair. He jerked my head toward him with a brutal strength. "You will not flinch away from me. Unless you want me to rip all this pretty black hair from your scalp," his steaming, nauseating breath puffed into my face as he tightened his grip on me. Scalding tears welled up in my eyes as I heard the sound of the desks being moved away. Maybe if I don't open my eyes... Maybe if I don't make a sound... This will all just go away... Those were my thoughts as I felt the back of my skull collide with the solid ground. Those were my thoughts as I felt the disgusting pressure of Mr. Jameson's body, the repulsive touch of his hands as he gripped my throat... "Oliver...." I choked through my tears and the pain. Nobody was listening. I don't know how long it lasted, but I know it didn't take Mr. Jameson long to leave when he had finished. I just laid there. I didn't move. My entire body was plagued with an unbearable agony, but inside, I felt nothing. There were no tears left for me to cry. There were no words left for me to say. That was the last time I spoke. I eventually gathered myself enough to walk myself home. It was just before nightfall when I returned to my house. Both my mother and father were waiting on the foyer couch clenching their cell phones tightly in their hands. I looked a wreck. My eyes were still raw from tears and I was bruised all over. My parents let out a simultaneous gasp as they ran to my side, embracing me. "Did you get into a fight, David?" My mother questioned, worry causing her voice to quaver, "We were so worried about you! Where have you been?!" "Sheila," my father spoke, placing a hand on my mother's shoulder, "You know David doesn't fight, right David?" I shook my head in agreement. I could at least give him that. "So were you beaten up?" Mother questioned her eyes widening as she gripped my shoulders. I winced in pain as I nodded a silent 'yes'. We made it through that night. I convinced my parents that I had been beaten up because everyone at school despised me so much. I, of course, didn't say this directly to them. The complete cessation of speech really came as a shock to my parents, but they agreed to let me homeschool if I agreed to see a therapist. Of course I agreed. Anything to get away from that school. Anything to never see those eyes again. Anything to never see that darkness. It was an incredible relief to be able to stay within the four walls of my room. I could always deal with the feel of the real world if I had Oliver by my side, but realizing the pain and fear that lurked there, even in the broad daylight, without him, I couldn't bear it. But even this new world I had created, even within the realm of utter solitude, my heart felt heavy. Throughout my silence rang the sound of my pain. I didn't want to face it alone. I wanted to be with Oliver. ----------------------------------------------- Oliver From the moment I saw Davey, I knew he was special. There was something in his eyes when he would gaze out the window in class. It wasn't the expression of just another eighth-grade student, it wasn't just a daydream; you could see the longing and thoughtfulness in those frosty blue eyes. I had always admired him from afar: his long, shining dark hair that spilled over his shoulders, his smooth pale skin that shone in the sunlight, the constant mix of worry and curiosity that painted itself across his face, and his absolute silence that surrounded him, but I wanted to know more. I wanted him to speak to me. I wanted to know parts of Davey that nobody else knew. All it took was a little kindness–something I discovered Davey had received little of in his life. I would speak to him kindly every day before and after school, taking pride in the smile he would share with only me. I had nearly given up hope on hearing his voice by the last day of our eighth grade year. I sprinted down the hall as the afternoon bell rang and chased after my Davey. He was nearly out the front door when I caught up to him and pulled gently on the sleeve of his shirt. He turned around in surprise and I saw the fear flash in his eyes. I knew never wanted to see him look at me that way again. I pulled him close, hugging him tightly–as if I would never let him go. "Have a good summer, Davey," I said softly, running my fingers through his long dark hair and ruffling it slightly. I felt his body stiffen as he braced his arms against me, pushing me away. I was prepared to feel absolutely horrid about his reaction to my touch, until I saw the sweet smile delicately playing upon his lips. "Won't you still talk to me in the summer, too?" I could feel my heart stop beating, like the last rumble of the engine of a switched-off car. His voice was even more beautiful than I could have imagined. Like a sweet breeze, carrying with it the scent of a blooming field. A worried look flashed across his face as he reached out to cradle my cheek with his cool, delicate fingers. I was shaken from my catatonia and wrapped my hands around his, placing his palm over my now rapidly thumping heart. "Of course." It was barely a whisper, but I knew he heard me. He smiled once more before turning from me and strolling out into the sunlight. In that moment, I knew I would do anything for Davey. Before I knew anything about love, I was in love with Davey. ----------------------------------------------- Davey "So, I'm thinking of going to school at NYU. It's not that far from here to Manhattan, and I'll be able to see you every weekend," he said these words so casually. As if it were okay. "I've already been accepted... Classes start the beginning of next month..." DON'T LEAVE ME! I wanted to scream. Oh, god, please don't leave me... "I mean, it's been a year since I graduated now. I feel like if I wait any longer, I'll just keep putting it off forever," he paused, taking a moment to plant a soft kiss on the back of my hand, "I promise you, I'm not leaving you." I really didn't want to hold Oliver back. He was the smartest person I knew; I didn't want to see that go to waste. But I knew I couldn't face being without him. It's only the four years... And I'd see him on weekends... I tried to reason to myself. There was no comfort in reason. But I'd have to face it. Even if it meant loneliness. It'd been four years since I left that high school behind. And four years of silence. Oliver was shocked at first, but he came around to the idea once he realized that it wasn't that I didn't want to speak. I couldn't. He stayed with me for all this time. And even though I couldn't tell him with words how much he meant to me, he knew. The way he was kneeling in front of me on the bed. The way the golden curls sprung from his head, restoring a boyish quality to the face that had become a man's. His hands were so strong and secure in the way that they held mine. His beauty was almost surreal. He could have anyone: man or woman. So, why me? "I love you so much," he whispered, nuzzling his face into my open palm. Why me? Because he loves me. I traced my thumb along the outline of his bottom lip, reveling in the smooth warmth of his handsome face. His brows furrowed gently with need as he opened his eyes, catching the sight of the tears falling from my eyes. My vision blurred, I saw his figure moving as I felt a weight shift on my mattress. Suddenly, I felt that long-familiar gentle pressure of Oliver's lips against my own. Though Oliver could not have been the first to know my body, he was the first to touch my lips, the first to bring my body pleasure, the first to give me love. And as far as Oliver knew, he was my first in every way. I wanted so badly for him to know how dirty my body felt before he made it his. But in moments like this, in the way he made me feel, I lose my pain deep in the torrent of love and pleasure. He's the only one who can make me feel this way. The past becomes irrelevant. In this moment, the past was irrelevant, but it was the thought of the future that brought me pain. Oliver parted his lips and allowed our tongues to join in a gentle caress as he shifted his body above me. My head fell back onto the pillow behind me as I felt his legs straddle my thigh. He was so hard already, and from just a kiss. I did this to him. Only me. Don't leave me... I reached up and touched his face as he kissed me. He leaned into my touch once again as one hand began to slowly unbutton my shirt. His lips left mine as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. "My Davey... I love you..." he repeated over and over again as his hands roamed lower down my body. I shivered as he reached into the waistband of my jeans and claimed his prize. Oliver stroked me slowly, still breathing those words heavily against my collarbone. With Oliver above me like this, with me staring deep into his amber-colored eyes, his hands claiming my body and his lips proclaiming such sweet love, it never took me long to come. Oh god, please stop! I wanted to scream. I didn't want my release to come so soon. I pleaded to him with my eyes. Please, let's come together. Though I made not a sound, Oliver heard my pleas. "Okay, my Davey, I'll let you come with me," he panted. Only my thigh was touching Oliver and yet he was panting and heated with arousal. The gentle pressure of his body was lifted from me momentarily as he removed his T-shirt and shimmied out of his denims. I loved seeing Oliver's body like this. His skin was a little darker than mine from the sun, smooth and golden like the halo of curls around his head. Sometimes I feel so small and dull when compared to Oliver's shining gold. But when we're together like this, I can feel his glow radiating around me. When I'm with Oliver, I shine. Oliver knelt before me, his powerful body fully revealed to my gaze as he turned his attention to my disrobing. With such self-assured movements, he smoothed the legs of my jeans from my limbs until the cool chill of the room shook my body with a shiver and I realized I was completely bare. Oliver had a way of hypnotizing me with his hands. #94637 on the list of one-million things I love about Oliver. He climbed back over my body, slowly moving his hips over mine so his weeping length slid steadily against mine. I felt his firm hands grip my shoulders as he looked into my eyes. "How do you want it?" he whispered, his face barely a centimeter from mine. I felt his touch linger between our bodies as he wrapped a warm hand around both our erections as they continued to slip past one another in the soft vice of his fist. No. I shook my head. Not like that. "In my mou...?" I shook my head again as I watched him slip a long digit into his mouth and remove it, shining with saliva. You know exactly what I want. I felt his hand move once more over my hip and beneath my thigh. One long, slick finger traced down the small of my back, slowing at the cleft just above my entrance. My breathing quickened in anticipation as his finger continued its journey downward. When he arrived at his target, I flinched, blushing furiously. He pressed lightly against the resisting flesh. Just as my breathing began to steady and I began to relax, I felt his hand move forward, his finger thrusting deep into my body. I let out a tiny squeak of pure bliss as Oliver hugged my body close. "Do you want it here, baby?" I nodded my head furiously in reply as I spread my legs wider for him. "Can you get the lube for me, darling. I want to make this good," he whispered, his voice getting huskier and deeper. His lust voice. I reached out underneath the pillow beside me and retrieved the small tube I kept there. Oliver reached out his hand to take it from me, but I shook my head. No. I want to. I opened the bottle and squeezed out a generous amount into my palm. I knew what to expect, but I never got used to the chill. I moved my hand down between us, seeking out Oliver's thick and throbbing flesh. I stroked him gently, my hand barely wrapping around his girth as I made him slick for my body. His fingers continued to move in and out of me as I continued to stroke his erection. My hand was but a replacement for my body and his fingers were but a replacement for his flesh. I was done with the stand-ins; I wanted the real thing. I looked deep into his eyes and just as I released my grip, he released my body. He leaned down, claiming my lips once more as I felt his well-oiled length press against my entrance. He broke the kiss for a moment to look into my eyes. "You ready, baby?" he asked, almost completely breathless. All I had to do was look at him. He already knew. Oliver slowly slid into me as I pressed down against the intrusion, accepting every last inch of him into my body. "I love you so much, Davey." I love you too. I never felt more whole than when I had Oliver inside me like this. If we could stay like this forever, I would. When you're ready to move, move. Oliver began to move his hips, moving inside me just a fraction of an inch at a time. Slowly, Oliver started to build up steam, thrusting in and out of my body at a steady pace. It felt so good I could cry, but Oliver's kisses kept the tears at bay. He covered my face and neck with sweet, sloppy licks and brushes of his lips. He always kissed me like that when we were together: as if he were trying for my lips, but with horrible aim. #72 on the list of one-million things I love about Oliver. The longer he continued, the closer I became to orgasm. He could feel the tension in my body as I neared the edge. "Faster?" Yes! God, yes! His body moved rapidly, his flesh swelling inside me as he moved faster and faster into my body. He moved at a breakneck pace, yet was still careful not to be too rough. Oliver could never fuck me. This wasn't a quickie or a roll in the hay. Oliver and I had only ever made love. We were so madly in love with each other, there is no way this could be anything else. "Oh... Davey... I'm coming. Are you with me, baby?" I am... Oliver buried his face in the crook of my neck, smothering his cry as I felt him come deep inside me. I was filled with warmth as he continued to thrust into me, pushing his seed even deeper. Just one thought of Oliver spilling in me and I was over the edge. I inhaled sharply through my teeth with a hiss as I came, jets of come painting our chests and stomachs as they sharply rose and fell with heavy breath. "Jesus, Davey... I love you so much..." I love you too... Please don't leave me behind... ----------------------------------------------- Oliver One month, I'd been away from Davey. And one month I'd felt so empty like this. Every moment I was away from my Davey, I felt as if I lost connection with another part of me. Sure, I loved living in New York. It was so much different from Philadelphia. And going to school here was a dream come true, but only being able to see Davey on weekends wasn't enough. I tried to think of any way that I could have Davey here with me, but I couldn't afford an apartment here with my pay from the print shop and as a scholarship student, I was living in a dorm. It was useless. And it hurt like hell. But Davey seemed so strong that it gave me hope–hope that I could make it through these four years and come out with an education strong enough to support him and our life together. This was all for him–this was all for us. Silent Shout I removed the final screen and got to work on storing away the rest of the inks. As I opened the cabinet below my desk, I saw the small black box decorated with gold leaf. I couldn't tell you how many times I had opened and closed this box in the past month, staring at the two golden bands inside, trying to think of the perfect time to ask Davey to be with me forever. It for sure wouldn't be this weekend. I was working overtime on my birthday–perfect. I had promised Davey that I would come home for my birthday, but the guy who was scheduled to work this evening called out sick with the flu. I had already called Davey's parents, asking them to let him know I wouldn't be able to make it. I felt horrible about canceling, because I knew Davey felt just as bad about it as I did. By the time I made my way down the stairs, it was nearly midnight. I don't know how I was expected to get the work of two people done by a reasonable hour, but life just unfolds this way sometimes. As I locked the door behind me, I heard a soft whimpering coming from the alleyway. "Is someone down there?" I called out, craning my neck around the corner and peering into the darkness. I got no reply, but the whimpering sound stopped. "Hello?" I called out again, taking a step down the alley. The light above some business's back door flickered over their stoop, revealing the shadowy silhouette of a huddled figure. "Oh my god, are you okay?" I said softly, walking more quickly toward the quivering body. Suddenly, I felt my breathing catch in my throat as my approach was brought to a screeching halt. I could make out the figure more clearly–those long, thin arms now scratched and bruised, wrapped tightly around trembling knees, shining dark hair covering milky pale shoulders, the watery Prussian blue of the piercing gaze that met mine in the darkness. "........ Davey?!" ----------------------------------------------- Davey "David, that was Oliver on the phone. He wanted me to tell you that he wouldn't be able to make it home tonight, but he promised to come next weekend. It seems like people are dropping like flies with flu in New York, and he's had to cover for a sick co-worker..." my mother spoke gently, her head sticking out of the crack in my bedroom door. I hung my head and wrapped myself in my covers. As if it wasn't hard enough to only be with Oliver on weekends, now it really seemed as if he were leaving me. I could see it: slowly but surely, we would see each other less and less until bit by bit we grew apart. He would find someone else, someone who could give him more. He would find someone more handsome, someone taller, someone less fragile. No. I wouldn't let this happen. It was Oliver's birthday, after all. I hadn't given him his present yet. I'd go to the city tonight and surprise him. I snatched up the manilla envelope I had decorated with a large red ribbon, slipped on my shoes and opened my window. I didn't have time to express to my parents why I had to leave, and they would never let me go to New York by myself in the middle of the night. I never made much noise, so they probably wouldn't even notice I was gone. I silently thanked whoever built our house for putting my bedroom on the first floor as I slid softly onto the plush green lawn. I walked around to the back of the house and got on my bike, heading off quickly in the direction of the nearest bus station. It was only 7:35. I could make it there before Oliver's print shop closed. When I arrived at the station, I was relieved to find a bus to New York would be leaving in under half an hour. The wait was excruciating and the two-hour bus ride was even worse, but it was all worth it to see the look on Oliver's face when he saw me waiting for him. It would be completely worth it. Happy birthday! I arrived in Manhattan around 10:30 and caught a cab. I handed the driver the address of Oliver's workplace and arrived in almost no time at all, leaving me more than an hour to wait. Better to be early than late, I always thought. I walked around the block a couple of times, taking in the atmosphere of the city. I had only been here twice before and both times I was just a child. I had never been out like this, in the night and by myself. It felt almost liberating, thinking about the variety and diversity of a place like this and the utter freedom that came along with it. This place made me feel like I could fly away. But I couldn't fly without my wings. I couldn't fly without my Oliver. So I waited. I sat down on the stoop of his building and watched the people pass me by, the glimmer of lights shining in their eyes. As time slowly crept along, fewer and fewer people came across my path. I turned my attention to the sidewalk, following the winding cracks in the concrete with my eyes. Suddenly, my eyes stopped as a pair of feet, clad in a pair of dirty sneakers stepped into view, stopping just in front of me on the sidewalk. "You waiting for someone, kid?" the man in front of me spoke. His voice had a sort of sarcasm deeply embedded in it. It reminded me of all the kids at school I ever hated. I nodded a yes in reply. "Well, my place is just around the block if you wanna go wait there with me." With this comment, I looked up into his face. He was a lot taller than I was and his face had this smug look about it that contorted his features that probably could have been handsome. I shook my head no. I just wanted to be left alone. It shouldn't be too much longer until Oliver comes out. "What, cat got your tongue?" Ahh, very funny. I nodded yes. "You think you're fuckin' smart?" I looked away from those eyes. I recognized the look in them immediately–that deep dark blackness. I didn't like this man at all. "Somebody ought to teach you a lesson, you fuckin' brat." He took a step closer to me and I flinched, shutting my eyes tight. Get it over with. Just go. He put his hands in my hair, pulling so hard he brought me to my feet. This was becoming too familiar. "Look at you. I bet you scream like a fuckin' girl, don't ya?" He swung me around and slammed me hard into the brick wall behind me. The throbbing pain filled my ears. I could feel the air vibrating around me. I'm sure he was saying something, probably yelling at me, but I couldn't hear. I could only hear the pain. I felt a rough, calloused hand slide under my shirt, groping at my flesh. I moved my arms, trying in vain to get him to stop. For a moment, he paused. I felt something being tugged from my hand. "What's this?" the man questioned over the sound of my own pulse. He was trying to take away my envelope. Don't! That's for Oliver!! He wrenched it from my grip and ripped open the top, making a tiny tear in the red ribbon I had tied so carefully. Don't! "Aww! Ain't this a pretty fuckin' sight? Little powderpuff and his boyfriend, huh? You draw this shit? Well, I bet your little sweetheart can't fuck you like I will..." I watched the world move in slow motion as he threw my picture into the alley beside us and dragged me down with it into the darkness. Oliver.... Oliver.... Oliver.............. ----------------------------------------------- Oliver "........ Davey?!" My legs felt like the were going to give out as I ran as fast as I could to my Davey's side. I fell to the ground beside him and wrapped his shaking body in my arms. I felt his warm tears soak into my shirt as he wept silently on my shoulder. I kissed every inch of his skin that I could reach in my position, wishing my love could make his cuts and bruises fade away. "Oh my god, oh my god... Davey.... What happened to you?! Oh god, your shirt's ripped... Did you get mugged?!" Davey slowly shook his head, still sniffling. "Did somebody... Oh god, did somebody touch you?!" Davey didn't say anything. He didn't have to. He just balled up his fists in the fabric of my shirt and sobbed violently against my chest. "Davey?! Oh... I'm so sorry, Davey... If I had just blown off work and come home... I'm so sorry..." I cried, gently combing my fingers through his fine dark hair, freeing it from the dirt and tangled knots. "I swear, I'll never leave you again. Oh god... How could somebody do this? My Davey.... My Davey...." I don't know how long we stayed like this, wrapped up in each other, holding on for dear life. I never wanted to let him go again. "Okay, Davey," I said, wiping my eyes with my sleeve, "I've got to call the police, okay? You need to go to the hospital and get checked out and maybe you can even identify the guy. I'll be right there with you, okay? And I'll get your parents. Everything's going to be alright..." I felt one of Davey's cool delicate hands come to rest on my chest. He was asking me to wait. I felt Davey push away from me and watched as he slowly crawled across the alley. "Wait, Davey! What are you doing?" He stopped, picking up a piece of paper in his hand and crawled back to me, sitting beside me and resting his head on my shoulder. He handed me a dirty manila envelope that looked like it had already been ripped open, but was decorated with a slightly grimy, but still bright ribbon, tied in a bow. A birthday present. "Davey, I'll open this later. Right now is not the time! We need to get you to a hospi..." He reached out and patted the envelope. Open it now. "Alright, Davey..." I pulled out the sheet of paper inside and was stricken breathless by what I saw. It was a pencil drawing of a busy city street. Cars were but grey blurs as the sped past and the surrounding buildings sprung up like wildflowers. In the middle of all the commotion stood an image of me, and just before me, standing on his tiptoes, his arms looped around my neck, was Davey, staring into my eyes. "You..." I started, my fingers tracing over the image as if I felt it could suck me in and make it a reality. Tears welled up in my eyes once more and I had to look away from the paper for fear of wetting it. I turned to look at Davey and was met with his shining blue eyes. It was just like the picture. "Davey... It's so beautiful..." I leaned in, gently holding his chin as I kissed him tenderly on the lips. "My Davey..." ----------------------------------------------- Davey stayed in the hospital for about a week while he recuperated. He was treated for a fractured rib and a few other minor injuries. After finding that he had been forced, Davey's doctor ran all sorts of tests and found that fortunately he was completely clean. Davey's body would recover. I never left his side for all the days that he stayed at New York Presbyterian. I couldn't bear to be without him for even a minute. While I was there, I withdrew from school at NYU and applied as a transfer student at University of Pennsylvania in Philly. Only a few more phone calls to make and I could have this all sorted out... His parents were very supportive and brought me changes of clothes and my laptop when they weren't in Davey's room with me. It was almost as if I was as much their son as Davey was. They didn't know how much I wanted that to be true. The day before Davey was to be released, I took his parents aside for a moment. "Mr. and Mrs. Roth, I have a couple of questions I'd like to ask you," I was a lot more nervous in this moment than I thought I would be. I wrung my hands, my eyes focused on my toes as I continued, "Davey... ah... David and I have been together for a really long time, and I really want to be with him for much much much longer. Um, forever, really. And I'm pretty sure he feels the same way...and... ah..." I was cut off by a firm hand on my shoulder, "It's Stephen and Sheila to you, Oliver," Mr. Roth said, comfortingly, a big smile stretching across his face. "And we both know how happy you make David. If you want to be his partner, we would be love to have you as our son." I looked up, relief flooding my body and relieving the tension. "Really?" I said, looking up hopefully, not believing that this was happening. It wasn't that I didn't expect support from Davey's parents, but this whole scene felt completely surreal. "Of course, Oliver," Mrs. Roth...well, Sheila said to me, her bright blue eyes sparkling and bright with tears. Davey definitely had his mother's eyes. "What else did you want to ask us?" "Well...I've made a couple of calls to my parents and they have already moved all my things into the guesthouse on their property. I've transferred to school in Philly. So, I was wondering if it would be okay if I asked Davey to move in with me. It's not too far from your house or from campus, so I thought it would be ideal." I stumbled through my sentences, letting it all out in one breath. "Absolutely," Stephen said, patting me on the back again. "Just as long as you're making sure he's eating well! David's gotten so thin these days," Sheila piped up, smiling at me as she wrapped her arm around her husband's waist. There was something so comfortable about their relationship. It reminded me of me and Davey. "You guys are amazing!" I beamed. "Just one more thing..." ----------------------------------------------- Davey clung to my hand, his cool fingers chilling my skin, as his mother wheeled him down the hall and toward the exit. "I'll take him home," I smiled to Sheila as she pushed Davey through the doors and stopped beside our cab. Sheila affectionately smiled back at me, those same glittering tears filling her eyes, "I'll see you later, Oliver," she said to me. "Take care, David," she knelt beside Davey, kissing him on the cheek, "I love you." "Shall we?" I said, opening the door nearest Davey and helping him from the wheelchair into his seat. I gave the driver the address of my dorm and was met with a confused look from Davey. "I've got to get my car. What are we going to do, take a cab back to Philly?" Davey smiled and sighed, holding onto my hand tightly. I never wanted to let go. On the drive back to Philadelphia, I was completely restless. I couldn't stop running my hand along my thigh, my fingers lingering over the square box in my pants pocket. I tried to will the distance to shrink between New York and Philly, but apparently my ability to bend the universe around my mind was weaker than I thought. 'There is no spoon, there is no spoon.' It was useless. Eventually, the scenery became much more familiar until we arrived at our neighborhood. I turned down the street that Davey's house was on and smiled as we drove past it. I looked over at Davey who was giving me the same confused look as before. I just smiled wider as I continued down the road. He pulled on my sleeve after a couple of minutes of me not giving him an answer. "Just be patient. It'll be worth it, I promise." Davey furrowed his brows and crossed his arms, but calmed down. A few more miles and about ten minutes later, we arrived. I pulled down the long driveway toward my house. But instead of heading toward the main part, I turned off on a smaller branch off the main drive. I pulled up on the parking brake as I stopped the car just outside the guesthouse. It wasn't much, but it was definitely big enough for the two of us. "We're home!" Davey looked confused yet again, his eyebrows disappearing beneath his dark hair. "Come on, at least get out of the car first." I fetched my backpack and computer from the trunk and ran over to Davey's side, taking his hand as I lead him inside. My parents had already brought all my things inside. "I must remember to express my gratitude to those lovely begetters!" I laughed quietly as I threw my backpack onto the couch before turning around to see Davey. His eyes shifted all around the room, looking a bit uneasy. "I guess I've got some explaining to do, huh?" Davey nodded his head firmly as his eyes moved over to my face. "Well..." I started, fishing around in my pocket. "Let's start at the start," I walked over to Davey, holding the box tightly in my hands. When I stood just in front of him, I held his hand as I knelt down on one knee. This is how you're supposed to do this, right? I opened the box and watched Davey's eyes go as wide as the clear blue skies above him. "Well, I love you, Davey. There's no two ways about it. I love you, and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I want to watch you smile and I want to hold you when you cry and I want you to be mine. I want you to live with me in this house and maybe one day we'll talk about children, but right now, I just want you and me together. We could get a dog if you want. I'd love to hear the pitter-patter of little paws... But really all I want is to be yours as much as you're mine. Please, be my Davey forever," I took out one of the rings from the box and slid it over his long, thin ring finger. I smiled as it snugly fit in place. I looked up into Davey's eyes as they filled with tears. His breathing was getting shallow as his eyes shifted from my face to his hand and back again. "Well?" I said, getting just a shade impatient, knowing that Davey had just gotten lost in the moment. His eyes snapped back down to mine as he smiled and nodded an almost violent yes that sent the black silk of his hair flying. He got down on his knees in front of me, joining me on the hardwood floor as he wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed me more passionately than he ever had before. I opened my mouth to his persistent tongue as we explored each other as if it were the very first time. Slowly, Davey pulled away from me and grasped my hand still holding the box containing the other gold band. He took the ring from the box and looked me in the eye, asking for my hand. I stretched my arm out before me as he slid the ring over my finger and gently kissed my hand. "I love you, my Davey." ----------------------------------------------- Davey I reached out across the bed and laid my hand on Oliver's pillow. I could still feel the heat where his body just was. I have woken up like this, with Oliver by my side, for three-hundred-and-sixty-five days in a row now. Nothing could make me happier than having Oliver here with me. But every time I look at him, I can't help but feel despicable, despite (or even due to) the joy I felt being with him like this. Oliver must never know this side of me–this awful, sordid thing that has happened to my mind. I'm not afraid of this side of me. I am only afraid of how Oliver would react if he knew. If he knew that I was glad that that man beat me and held me down in that alleyway, would Oliver still love me? Would he still share his bed with such a foul person? Would he still run his fingers through my hair and call me his? That man–that man whose identity I would never know, that man who was never caught–he gave me my Oliver back. I was frightened. I thought I was going to die there in that alley. Of course I was frightened. But now, I almost feel indebted to that man. I don't care how wrong it is. Oliver was slipping away from me, but because of that night, he will always be by my side. I don't even care if it's out of pity. For having these thoughts, I am forever abominable. I have become something horrid and twisted inside. But seeing Oliver's face, feeling his touch, I thank all the gods for whatever it is that brought him into my life. He can't leave me now, and for that I am grateful. No matter how wrong it is. Oliver stepped out of the bathroom, a white towel wrapped low around his waist. Does he know? "Morning, my Davey," Oliver says, crawling in bed beside me and kissing my forehead. I kiss him back on the mouth. As the kiss becomes more intense, I feel him push back the covers from my body, his hands warm and soft from the hot water of his shower. His hands roam all over my body, slowing between my legs. I feel one of this fingers slip inside me and I let out a small gasp. Silent Shout "I've got an hour before I need to leave for class. Do you want to go again?" Oh, god, yes. I am already panting. "Good. Me too. You're still ready from earlier," he said, the gruffness returning to his voice as he introduced another finger into my barely-resisting body. I move my legs up over his shoulders as his eyes darken with lust. Oliver is so beautiful. "You're so beautiful, Davey. I love the way you look in the morning," he says, kissing the insides of my knees as he lines up his throbbing erection with my body and presses forward. It's when we're connected like this, him deep inside my body as he stares into my eyes with his golden gaze, that I feel the most guilty. Do you know? I let out a deep gasp of joy as he enters me over and over again, until I can hear him calling out my name softly in my ear. "My Davey...my Davey..." Oliver collapses on top of me, sweating and breathing heavily. That shower did him no good. I can feel him still connected, still deep inside me as he rests his head on my chest. "You know, I can hear you when you talk to me," he whispered. Do you know? "I love you too, Davey." He reaches out and grasps my hand, my tiny pale fingers twining with his strong and golden ones, our matching bands glinting in the sunlight. I love you. Even if I don't deserve it. "My Davey....."