*Sorry I haven't submitted in a while, I recently discovered web-camming and I've spent the last few days in a horny fog...
*clears throat* Anyway, no sex again in this chapter, but good things come to those who wait^_^
All characters are 18+*
--------AARON--------
I was so happy the next day; hell, I was downright joyful. I woke up at eight with everything feeling sore, and I suddenly remembered that I had completely forgotten to take my pain pill. It wasn't a laughing matter, because I had also forgotten the antibiotics, but it just made me feel so happy that Daniel could take away my pain like this.
I took my pills, and all day long, when I was going food shopping and doing some other errands, I couldn't stop smiling. I smiled at strangers and cashiers and other people in their cars. Sometimes they smiled back, a little confused, and other times they just gave me strange looks, but I found that I just didn't care.
Daniel called me on my cell, sounding a little bashful.
"I know that you're not supposed to call after the first date, thats supposed to be kinda clingy, but I couldn't help it. How are you?"
I laughed out loud. "Ugh, I'm just glad you called first! I think it's okay if we're both a little clingy!"
He laughed and asked me if I wanted to see the Firefly marathon at his apartment, since he had a large flatscreen TV. He sounded so excited. I agreed. I had been a little bummed about having to see the most awesome show ever (fangirl squee!!!) on my tiny little toaster of a TV.
We ended up talking for about twenty minutes, and we would have talked more but I had to beg him to stop because I had a crappy cell plan and we would soon talk me into bankruptcy.
---
After my talk with Daniel, I saw that I had a new message. This was pretty rare, only about half a dozen people had my number anyway. I listened to it, and I felt surprise and shock and sudden fear fill my chest. It was Dad.
"Hello Aaron." The stiff formal voice was so like him, ever since he started trying to bond with me again, Christmas and birthdays and a few rare occasions, our conversation was awkward and stiff and formal. "I'm in town today, like I said in that email... I hope you got that. I'm going to be at your apartment soon, at about five, and I brought some dinner, I remembered that you liked Chinese food? Anyway, call me back soon."
Take-out? He hated all Asian food with a passion. He was really trying to make me happy, and that made me a little scared and very grateful. The thing about Dad was that he really did love me, but my orientation grated on him so much. He hated this as much as I did, how fragmented it had become between us.
I felt a sick swooping feeling in my stomach. If he ever found out about Daniel... A boyfriend was bad enough. He was able to handle my orientation a little better when I was single, but when he found out about Bryce he had gone insane and slammed his fists into the wall, trying not to hit me or any furniture. He hadn't talked to me again until Bryce was history.
A boyfriend was bad enough, but one right after what had happened? He would call me a pervert. He would say that I liked what happened to me. He would be disgusted, maybe even to the point of violence.
I was in the laundromat down the street, and I had been laughing and giggling. I jumped in the air when a very pregnant redheaded woman tapped my shoulder, and timidly asked me if I was alright.
I realized that my eyes were full of tears and my mouth felt weak and trembling. "I'm s-sorry, n-nothing's wr-wrong."
I was totally lying, and beginning my first official breakdown of the day, but she was tactful enough not to bother me about it. She sat back down, glancing through a book of baby names and giving me worried glances.
---
I threw all of my clean laundry back into the mesh bag without folding it. I was too upset and I wanted to get back to my apartment before I fell apart completely. I nearly ran down the sidewalk, and within moments of closing the door I just collapsed onto the couch and had a little breakdown. That was one thing I hadn't been prepared for. I was crying all the time now, and at the most inconvenient times. I was just glad I had been at the laundromat and not at the grocery store, or somewhere even further away.
It was four thirty, shit. I was not ready for him to be over. I had to go around my apartment and hide any evidence, no matter how remote, of anything even slightly feminine. I scoured through my bathroom, hiding my little pink jewelry box that held my makeup and earrings deep in the cabinet. Ditto for the colorful hair binders. I rolled up the rainbow bath mat that Jesse had given me for my birthday and hid it under my bed.
I took down the posters on my wall. I had some band posters that were alright, but I couldn't keep the Elton John poster, or the XX Revolution (a local band that played at the Purple Rain) poster. I also hid the little iron artwork I had of two interlocking male symbols, you know, the circle with the arrows pointing up and to the right? I looked around my apartment and then realized that I was wearing a pink shirt and jeans that were far too tight. I dug through my laundry and changed into looser jeans and a baggy blue shirt. I hated leaving my hair down, but he wouldn't stand for it being in a ponytail.
Of course, he hated my hair, but that had been my very first rebellion against him, the first time I had told my father 'no'. So I wouldn't cut it for him.
I flinched when the doorbell rung, and my stomach felt weak and sick. I went to the door and looked through the little glass eye, hoping irrationally that it was my landlord, or maybe my neighbor, or someone other then Dad.
Nope, it was him. He had a rolling suitcase in one hand and a greasy bag in the other and I was reminded uncomfortably of when Daniel had come, unconsciously ordering my favorite food, and sweating bullets with anxiety. Dad was anxious-looking too.
I opened the door, and for a moment he just stared at me. He was only forty-two, he had married my mother when he was eighteen and she was sixteen, after they hadn't been careful enough at a drive-in movie. For a moment while he was staring at me, he looked shocked and very young.
He was staring at my black eyes and red nose, of course. I couldn't stop my hand from going up to cover my nose for a moment, then I forced it down.
I expected him to sigh and look away, I expected him to make an awkward hello and try to inch inside without touching me, I expected for him to break into his lecture about how I was living in sin there and then. What I didn't expect was for him to drop his suitcase and our dinner and enfold me in a desperately tight bear-hug.
"Oh Aaron!" His voice was so low and tearful that it came out like a groan. "I'm so sorry!"
Shocked and confused and grateful and crying, I held my weeping father in my arms as he babbled into my shoulder.
"Anything could have happened! That sick bastard could have killed you and I would have still been in Duluth trying to find fucking pamphlets to send you! Jesus I'm sorry, I don't want to stay away from you anymore Aaron! Anything could happen. I don't want to lose you!"
After that it became unintelligible with his deep sobs.
---
Dad pulled himself together and I invited him in. He sat on my bed with a ham sandwich that I had made him while I nibbled on Kung Pao chicken. We were both still sniffling a little. He was making an effort, and honest-to-God effort. He still hated my being gay, I could see him eyeing my hair, and I could tell he was biting back some comments, but he was trying! He was so afraid of losing me, that he wanted to make a concerted effort to be father and son again.
It was so awkward though. We had spent six years saying nothing to one another after he had kicked me out of the house, and two years of rare painfully awkward meetings that had often ended with me in tears. We ended up watching sports on the tiny TV and him asking me questions about my job, and if I had any luck getting a real job.
That hurt a little, but he was right. I had been trying over and over to be a teacher again, but there were few openings, and all of the schools that had openings had been warned against me by that dick principal. When I told Dad about him, he scowled a little, but didn't say anything. I already knew his thoughts on the matter. When I was fifteen, and pondering wether or not to come out to my father, he found some piece of news about a teacher who had molested a male student and went off on an angry tearful rant about how 'they should have never let a fucking fag like that into the school at all.' I agreed with his hatred of the man who had molested the kid, but it had hurt and frightened me deeply at the time, how he lost control like that.
He hesitated, and his shoulders slumped a little. "Aaron? I don't want to fight anymore, but honestly, how can you still think you don't have a choice? How can you still delude yourself that this...Lifestyle...is the only option after what that man did to you, and after what happened when you were twelve..."
I cut him off, and I was surprised by the vicious edge to my voice. I had never fought against my father, I had always just nodded and flinched. I had cringed against the wall when he started throwing furniture and beating his fists against the wall to stop himself from hitting me. I had agreed with him and wept when he was gone. I had never actively argued with him.