Only One Road – chapter 7

– VII –


It was the first Monday after Thanksgiving break, November twenty eighth. It’s been almost three weeks since Dylan and I got together. I couldn’t get enough of him. We spent every single night together. Sometimes we would stay at his Aunt’s house, sometimes at mine. I kept telling my mother about some random projects that we had to work on, to justify him staying at my place so often and us spending so much time together. She would just smile and nod at that and I would feel like the best schemer in the world.

Well, by the end of the second week of November when we showed up at my house together again, she told Dylan to go wash his hands before dinner and asked me to get something from the upper shelf for her. I didn’t smell the trap so I was reaching for some plates when she asked me nonchalantly:

“So how long have you been with him?”

Have you ever choked on your own tongue? Not the most pleasant feeling in the world. I almost dropped the damn plate. When I looked at her with badly hidden horror and tried to say something like “What-are-you-talking-about-I-have-no-idea-you-must-be-nuts-because-this-is-crazy-talk”, she just rolled her eyes.

“Connor”, she said patiently. “I see how you look at each other. Plus you are always together. I don’t think there are that many projects at your school that you have to do…”

I grabbed onto that plate like it was my life vessel. I wasn’t ashamed or anything like that, no. But I was downright horrified. My mother sighed and took the plate away from me. Actually she pried it from my clutching fingers.

“Stop acting like that”, she said sternly. “And deal with the fact that your mother is not completely ignorant when it comes to her only son, okay?”

“Ack”, I said.

“Go wash your hands”, she sighed again.

“Ack”, I said again.

“Oh and by the way”, she gave me a very serious look. So serious that I knew she was doing her best not to laugh. “Your father pretty much figured it out as well.”

“Aaaa…” was all I could master and went to the bathroom, hoping that maybe I could drown myself in the sink or something.

When I told Dylan about the whole conversation later in the evening, he just gave me the same crooked smile that didn’t fail to send shivers down my spine again.

“Just be thankful that your parents are normal”, he said. “And they didn’t disown you or something.”

I figured that yeah, he was right. So I stopped worrying about it. Ever since we fist slept together which happened in the beginning of November, we were in some insane constant sex craze for each other. Seriously, I didn’t expect myself to have that much stamina. By the end of Thanksgiving week we could play each other’s bodies with the same skill as Perlman can play his Stradivarius. I could interpret his every single gasp, breath, and moan. He knew my every single button and he was pushing all of them virtuosically.

By then I also knew some of his weird and sometimes dark kinks and quirks.