I Don't Wanna Feel a Thing Anymore.

540 Days Ago

I almost couldn’t control my lust on the short ride back to Vic’s house. As soon as we got there, Vic grabbed my hand, pulling me through the front door. And then came the moment I felt as if I’d waited a thousand years for. He pushed me against the opposite wall, kissing me hard. He was much stronger than he looked. I wrapped my arm around his waist, pulling him as close to me as possible. I felt his fingers twist into my dark hair. Our lips moved together in synchrony, almost as if it was what they were made for. We broke away for a single second, staring into each other’s eyes, before our lips crashed back together again for a moment. He then grabbed my hand and led me down the hallway to his room. He opened the door and we stumbled over to the bed, clumsily peeling our clothes off. I had never wanted any one more than I did this very second.

I woke up the next morning holding Vic in my arms. I smiled to myself, remembering last night’s events. I held his small form close to me, not wanting to lose him. I realized suddenly that I barely even knew Vic. Hell, he could be a psycho. But honestly, I wanted to get to know him. I didn’t want this to be a one-night thing, because I had never felt this way about anyone before. I wanted to fall so in love with Vic, which was something I knew I’d have no trouble accomplishing, at least on my part. Every second I spent with him was a second closer to pure love.

Vic groaned, rolling over in my arms. He opened his eyes to meet mine, smiling at me sleepily. We just lay there for a few minutes, between dreams and consciousness, reliving the previous night. I knew it was something I’d want to do over and over.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked groggily. I nodded. “Do you want some breakfast? You could, um, stay for a little bit?” He bit his lip tentatively, which made me nervous, considering I didn’t want to get a boner and ruin the moment. I just smiled and nodded. Vic untangled himself from my arms, standing up and pulling on a pair of sleep shorts lying on the ground. He looked at me still curled up in bed. “Well come on, Kellin! I’m not your bitch; you’ve gotta help!” He laughed, reaching over and pulling me by my arms. I groaned jokingly, rolling out of bed and putting on my jeans from the night before. He waited for me, grabbing my hand and leading me to the kitchen. He opened the pantry.

“Well, uh, we have… cereal?” He offered. I laughed.

“That’s boring! Can we make pancakes or something?” I whined like a little kid.

“Well if you wanna go to the store and get some mix, then I’d love that!” He said.

“Vic, I don’t make pancakes from a box. Are you crazy? I’m gonna show you how to make some kick ass pancakes, Quinn style.” It was true, I had memorized my mom’s pancake recipe as a child. Vic clapped like a 5 year old, dragging me back to his room to get dressed. He threw me a plain red v neck, because my shirt from last night was pretty crumpled, and I didn’t want to look any more ‘the morning after’ than I had to. He pulled on black skinny jeans and a yellow hoodie, which looked awesome with his skin tone. Wow, I was so gay.

We drove to the nearest Food Lion, which was definitely the cheapest grocery store. I made a list on the back of a random receipt in the car so it would be a search-and-destroy mission. We ran around the store, earning us some weird looks from the old people, who were the only other ones up early enough to be grocery shopping at nine AM. We had to get baking soda, eggs, milk, and a variety of other things, because Vic and Mike kept literally nothing but junk in their house.

“I’m guessing you have flour.” I said matter-of-factly as we passed by the aisle. Vic blushed, shaking his head. “Seriously, what do you live on?” I marveled.

“Tortillas and cereal, literally! And kool-aid.” He laughed. No wonder he was so skinny. We checked out, throwing in some chocolate chips for good measure. Chocolate could make any food taste better. I was excited the whole ride back; I had a feeling this would be a cute scene.

He mixed the ingredients, with me rattling instructions off the top of my head. It really didn’t take any time at all. We put one on the stove and I shook the pan absent mindedly to keep it from burning.

“So how do you know that recipe so well?” Vic asked. “I take it you love pancakes?”

“My mom and I made it together a lot when I was a kid. We’d always make it for my siblings before they woke up.” I explained quietly.

“That sounds fun! How many siblings do you have?” He asked. I realized suddenly that I was jealous of Vic and Mike’s bond. I hadn’t really seen much of it yet, but they were clearly close.

“Four. Two sisters and two brothers. We don’t really talk.” I said, my voice coming out a little sharper than I had intended. I flipped over the pancake.

“I feel ya.” Vic said quietly. I kind of laughed.

“What do you mean? You and Mike are like, best friends.”

“Kellin, can I tell you something?” He ventured slowly as I pulled the pancake out and said it on his plate. He thanked me and poured on the maple syrup.

“Yeah.” I said, suddenly transfixed. I watched him cut his breakfast into tiny pieces with his fork, swirling it around in the sticky brown syrup.

“Me and Mike have another brother. Uh, Christian. He’s the youngest, and we don’t really talk, either.” He said quietly, sticking his fork in his mouth. I was fascinated.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Well, why don’t you talk to your four siblings?” He clearly was not giving this information out for free. I swallowed hard, pouring more batter into the pan.

“Well, I was kind of… kicked out of my family. Shunned. They act like I don’t exist.” I admitted. I continued before he had the chance to say anything. “Last year they sent me a fucking Christmas card. All six of them, happy as could be.” I said bitterly.

“Your mom, siblings, and your dad?” He asked. He seemed curious, not pitying.

“He’s not my fucking dad. My dad… He left on my twelfth birthday, and I haven’t heard from him since. Mom got remarried, and got pissed at me. Rob hated me, and my sisters loved him, and my brothers were too young to remember my real dad.” I realized I had burned the pancake. I picked it up with the spatula, tossing it into the trash. Vic sat silently, waiting for me to continue. “I never fit in anyways.” I whispered.

Vic got up from his seat across from the stove, coming around and wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. I felt so comfortable in his embrace. I turned around before I started my pancake, hugging him back. He reached up slightly to kiss me on the cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Kell. They made a mistake.” He murmured. I blinked back my tears, pushing my face into his shoulder.

“Why do families stop talking, Vic?” I asked in a miserable voice. I wanted to hear about his brother. He pulled away, keeping his grip on my hand but moving to sit on the counter.

“Christian. Yeah. He got involved in some really bad gang activity. We gave him so many chances, Kellin, you have to understand. It wasn’t even really my decision. But the last straw was when he owed a ton of money to this big drug lord, just over the border. He didn’t have the money, but if they didn’t get payed…. They would’ve killed Christian. We got him out of that one, cause that’s what family does. But now he’s in jail.” It was Vic’s turn to be blinking back tears. I hugged him this time, and I truly understood how difficult it was to talk about family.

“Families are fucked up, Vic. That’s not your fault.” I whispered to him, running my fingers over his hands. I wasn’t really hungry anymore. Vic sniffled.

“Thanks, Kell.” He said, reaching up and kissing me on the lips from his seat on the counter. It quickly turned into more than just one kiss. He pulled away, laughing. “Hold on there, I need to finish my pancake!” He giggled. I finished making mine, finally, and sat down next to him.

“Hey Vic?” I said between bites.

“Yeah?”

“The last person to call me Kell was my dad.” I said quietly. It actually felt good to talk about my problems after so long of holding them in.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked in a worried voice. I shook my head.

“No, I like it.” I assured him. He reached over and took my hand. It was the best morning I could ever remember.