Your Voice

Good morning, gorgeous. Hope you have a fantastic day, and I can't wait to see you tonight xx Oh and happy one month ;)

That's the text I woke up to this morning, which instantly put a smile on my face and made my entire day even though it hadn't begun yet. Dylan just did that to me, and I didn't understand it. To be perfectly honest, I don't care to understand it. We'd been together an entire month and he made me happier than I think I've ever been. No one's ever loved me so wholeheartedly before; and I don't even think he loves me. It's just that intense of a like which I'm okay with. I don't want to push my luck.

Even though I know Dylan's been awake for while, I still text him back telling him good morning and that I couldn't wait to see him either. And of course I ended the text with a 'happy one month' and extra kisses. I always send more kisses than Dylan does, though. I like to think of it as a competition.

It makes me excited Dylan is the type to celebrate one month. Though he told me he'd never had a boyfriend before, so I guess one month is something special to him. It's special to me too. I never thought I'd date someone, let alone a boy, and I definitely never thought I'd make it to a month. It felt like a milestone, and I hoped Dylan wanted to celebrate the same way I did... His lips on mine. And hips.

I blush at the thought, shaking my head so the idea doesn't lead to something uncomfortable. I crawl out of bed, honestly not wanting to. I don't want to go to school at all; today mine and Gemma's project was due. It's not that I didn't think it was good, because I knew it was. It seemed Gemma and I both shared a love of poetry, because we analyzed it down to a tee. And she said she practiced reciting the project in front of Dylan and he gave a standing ovation, so I definitely wasn't worried about it. Though maybe Dylan was biased.

I pull my uniform on, lazily knotting my tie. I wince as I look at myself in the mirror, wishing I didn't have to wear this monkey suit. I don't think it's very attractive on me, and the blazer just looks too big. I look like an idiot; I would be so much more comfortable in a t-shirt and jeans. Which actually is what I'm bringing with me in my backpack, considering Dylan wanted to 'celebrate' our one month. I didn't know what that meant, but I hoped we would just sit at his house and cuddle and make out. We tended to do a lot of the latter, but I wasn't complaining. We were teenage boys, making out was just part of the deal.

Walking downstairs, I see the house is empty, which doesn't happen often. There's a note on the fridge telling me my dad went to work and my mom went to the store. Which isn't necessarily disappointing, I could go a morning without them ignoring me. I guess being alone was like the same thing. I make myself a bowl of cereal and watch the clock so I leave in enough time to get to school. Fortunately, the sun is out though I'm sure it's chilly. I wish Dylan didn't work so he could take me to school, but if he didn't work then him and Gemma wouldn't be able to eat. I guess sacrifices had to be made.

I smile to myself, shaking my head. I don't know why I'm so happy and carefree today, already and I'm not even with people, just by myself. All because of a stupid good morning text? But it's not stupid, that's the thing! I'm driving myself insane right now, smiling down at my bowl like an idiot. I'm glad no one's here to witness this.

My phone finally goes off, making me jump over to it to see it's a reply from Dylan. Dress cute tonight for me? x We're gonna go eat and then head home xx

I smile and probably laugh to myself because he called it home, quickly typing my reply as I head back up to my room to get something more cute. I'd only grabbed a t-shirt originally, but if Dylan wanted me to do something better than that I would. I search and search, and finally settle on a green button-down with a grey cardigan to go over it. I knew I'd look camp in it, but I couldn't be bothered. It was probably the nicest thing I owned, and I hoped Dylan liked camp guys. Surely he does considering I'm already pretty girly...

Now I'm positive I'm running late, so I quickly head outside, lock the front door, and jog the entire way to school. It's so cold I don't sweat, but it definitely makes it harder for me to breathe. Once I finally get there, I'm heaving for air. No one is outside the school though so I know I have little time to die. I just start running again, deciding I'll take my entire backpack into English Language to be safe. There's a few people in the halls, and they all stare at me like I'm crazy. I'm sure my breathing is noisy, so it's probably the reason, but I could care less what they think about me. Even as some guy tries to trip me as I pass, I just catch my balance and keep going. He's clearly a dick anyway.

I walk slow as I get to the classroom, and walk in while trying not to breathe loudly. Although really I have no control of it, it's not like I can hear it or anything. Gemma looks at me relieved, as I'm usually here before her, and I smile shakily as I head towards my seat. I can feel Mr. Smith staring at me too but I don't pay attention to him. He's been pissing me off lately, especially when he didn't step in while Mr. Roberts was practically bullying me in front of the entire class. He gets paid to sign for me, I don't have to be his friend.

I sit beside Gemma, letting out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. She looks at me like I'm crazy before reaching out to picking something out of my hair. I blush when I see it's a leaf and avoid eye contact. How mortifying; at least it wasn't Dylan, he'd probably coo at me or something else god awful.

"Why are you late?" She asks, setting the leaf on her desk to throw away later.

I blush, thinking about how I'd destroyed my room looking for something 'cute.' I shrug though to pretend I didn't know; Gemma knows me better than that. She just keeps staring at me and demanding an answer until I finally sigh and give it up. "I was messaging Dylan and he said he wanted me to wear something cute so... I had to find something."

She looks at me for all of two seconds before bursting into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand to keep the noises at bay. I glare at her but she doesn't stop. I don't think it's very funny! Looking good for Dylan is something I take pride in. I mean I don't exactly see myself as someone attractive, so I have to try hard considering Dylan is someone attractive. And I don't own a whole lot of clothes, I mean it's not like I'm poor or anything and wear the same thing every day, but I don't exactly go out and buy myself things I think would look good. Which makes me thing that I might should, considering I now had someone to impress.

"I don't think he would care if you wore pajamas!" She signs, still laughing as her shoulders shake. I pout a little and glare at the same time. "Dylan adores you Kade!" And her saying that makes me grin and blush.

I look away, not commenting on it. I knew that Dylan and Gemma told each other everything. That much was obviously; she told Dylan I liked guys, told him I liked him, told him about my parents, she literally tells him everything. I shouldn't be surprised by now, but I still am. I wish I had someone like that, someone to share all my secrets with. Although technically they weren't her secrets to share, I'm not mad at her. Everything turned out good, didn't it? So when she says Dylan adores me, I can't help but wonder if that's something he told her. If maybe he really did adore me. The thought was enough to make me sick with butterflies.

Mr. Lynn comes in the room then, grinning widely and writing something on the board. I get out my notebook, blushing as I see my clothes at the bottom of my bag. I zip it up quickly so Gemma doesn't see and probably make fun of me, glancing up at the board before copying what's down. Though English Literature is my favorite course content, Mr. Lynn is my favorite teacher. I don't care how old he is, he's the nicest person to me here, not counting Gemma and Chris.

The lecture is fun, or as fun as a lecture can be, and I follow along easily. Lynn even asks me a direct question, which I sign the correct answer to and Mr. Smith translates. He almost seems proud that I've answers, grinning when he told me I got it right before moving on and asking another girl a question. For some reason, that really made me feel involved and valuable. Which was a feeling I often lacked, especially with English Literature as my last class of the day.

He lets us out a few minutes early, surprisingly, and I'm not disappointed. I really liked photography, which was my next class. Though we didn't do much talking, which is why I think I enjoyed it so much. I gather all my stuff and shove it into my bag, not being able to wait until I dump it in my locker and possibly secretly check my phone. I was hoping Dylan had text me again.

Before I can get out of the room, Gemma grabs my arm. I turn around, my brow furrowing. Everyone has already left, the only people still there being Mr. Lynn and Mr. Smith. Both of them are frowning at me, though Smith avoids eye contact, and Gemma has a gentle smile on her lips. I freeze for a second, wondering what on earth could possibly be going on, when Gemma signs, "We were hoping to talk to you, about Roberts... I told Lynn."

My eyes widen as I realize what she means, and the last thing I want to do is this. Smith walks over and shuts the door behind us, successfully cutting me off from escape. My hands shake a little, and I shove them in my blazer's pockets. I don't know what they want to talk about exactly, and I don't want to say anything bad about Mr. Roberts just because he gives me a harder time than the other students. But it looks like I'm not going to have a choice.
~

"And what did Mr. Lynn say then?" Dylan asks, having abandoned his food to watch me intently.

I sigh, shrugging my shoulders. I know what he said, of course, I just wasn't sure if I wanted to tell Dylan. When I'd sat down with Gemma, she helped translate for him. He asked me about Roberts class, if I liked it, and I honestly told him yes. English Literature is my favorite subject. But Gemma had butt in, telling Lynn all about the arsehole things he would say, and Mr. Smith just nodded and played witness. Like he even cared. I told them they shouldn't worry about it, that I was a big boy who could take care of myself and I didn't need them looking after me. Surely he was a jerk to other students, right? It wasn't just me. And I'm not going to get special treatment just because I'm deaf. I'm perfectly capable of going through a class with a bad teacher. And when I said this, my face had been hot and my tongue thick in my mouth with the need to actually say what I was so strongly feeling. But Smith translated and Lynn nodded like he understood, excusing me.

"He had to say something!" Dylan says, darting his hand across the table to take mine. "Look baby," he signs awkwardly with one hand and speaks. "I don't like this teacher at all, in fact I kind of support Mr. Lynn and Gemma wanting to do something. And-"

"Seriously?" I pull my hand from his, signing rapidly. I wouldn't have told him what happened if I knew he was going to support them treating me like a baby. I push my brow together, my mouth setting in a thin line. Dylan watches me with wide eyes, probably never having seen this side of me. I guess our one-month is enough time. "I'm fine Dylan, okay? F-I-N-E," I spell it out, my hand movements precise and more harsh than fluid. "I don't need special treatment. I can handle having a dick for a teacher."

"Okay," Dylan says quickly, agreeing with me. I feel my blood pressure lower though I look at him unsure. He smiles a little, tentatively reaching over for my hand again which I let him take. "I know you can, baby. I just don't like it. I'm protective, remember?" He says, flashing me a smile which finally calms me down. I feel my cheeks heat up as I nod, knowing he's right. "I don't like being at work and so far away from you, I can't do anything to help."

"I'm a big boy," I sign, pulling my hand from his and grabbing my fork again to stab into my spaghetti. "I can take care of myself."

"But it's my job," Dylan says, smiling cheekily at me as he cuts into his flatbread. He wiggles his brow at me as I blush. "You're my boyfriend, I want to make sure everything is perfect for you."

"Perfection is unachievable," I sign seriously, taking another bite of the noodles.

Dylan's eyes widen as he looks at me, his head tilting to one direction. He blinks slowly and I make a 'what' face, wondering what's wrong, and he just laughs. His shoulders shake a little. "That was pretty deep," he says and I admittedly blush; but when don't I? "And kind of depressing."

I giggle, shaking my head. Dylan just grins at me, bumping his knee into mine under the table. I set my fork down, full, and lean back in my chair to watch Dylan continue. He looks up at me curious and I smile. "Any parties at uni for Halloween?" I ask curiously.

Dylan wipes his mouth off, shaking his head. "No," he says. "Not really. I don't party." I nod, though I honestly find that hard to believe. Dylan's young and friendly and seems like a genuinely chill person. Why wouldn't he have a ton of friends? Though I guess like I mentioned before, he had to take care of Gemma. Sacrifices had to be made... And that makes me really sad. Dylan's barely gotten to live. "Are you going to one?" He asks, smirking as if he knows the answer.

I narrow my eyes, reaching out to kick him in the shin. He flinches a little but laughs, showing off his white teeth and his eyes crinkling cutely at the corners. "Maybe!" I sign, making him raise an eyebrow and sober up. "I've been invited to one," I smirk, leaning back in my seat smugly. "Gemma too, we just haven't decided. Do you think I'd be a better Batman or Robin?"

He twists his mouth up, actually thinking about the answer. I watch a hand rest on his chin as he thinks, and I roll my eyes. Who knew Dylan could be such a dork? Though I'm sure I've showed him a few surprise personality traits of my own. To be honest, I've never known any of my traits considering I've never had friends or anyone to show them to. How pathetic?

"I think Batman," he says smirking. My eyes widen, not having expected that. I'm so wimpy I figured I'd be dubbed the side-kick; Chris wanted to go in some sort of pair, and he said Batman and Robin was the best bet. Only now, we were arguing over who would be who. "You're dark and mysterious and sexy," he says making me kick him again.

Dylan just throws his head back and laughs.

After that, the date ends relatively quickly. We'd gone to the Italian bistro again, much to my delight; but Chris wasn't our waiter, pleasing Dylan. I'd rolled my eyes but he just tried to defend Chris was flirting with me. I couldn't defend Chris by saying he was dating Gemma because that's still a secret, and I definitely didn't want to mention how Chris and I were doing matching costumes because that would probably only fill the cup and make it overflow, if you know what I mean. So I just let him be happy our waitress was female.

We leave and Dylan grabs my hand, holding it out to the car. People glance at us, but I ignore them. I know Dylan's upset I still haven't explained that Gemma isn't a girlfriend, so if he wants to hold my hand in public I'll let him. I even move to entwine our fingers, pressing my head briefly against his shoulder as we step up to the car. Dylan's grinning widely and opens my door for me, making me blush. I don't know why he's being so chivalrous, but I'm not about to complain.

The drive home is silent, Dylan's hand reaching over to rest on my knee. I grin, staring out my window. I'm pretty sure Dylan's listening to the radio, because his head bobs every now and then, and his thumb taps a beat against my thigh. It's comforting some how, even though I can't hear the music. It's like I'm apart of it, feeling the beat drum out against my body.

When we pull up to his house, we see the living room light is on, meaning Gemma's up. I can see Dylan frown, making me bite my lip. It's not that we don't love Gemma, of course, we do. It's just that this is our one-month celebration and I'm sure he wants to do exactly what I do. We could always sneak back to his room, but I'm sure Gemma would come bother us and ask what we're doing and try to embarrass me. She's infamous for that.

Gulping, I quickly undo my seatbelt and take a chance. Dylan looks at me curiously, but I just climb over the middle console and settle myself in his lap. His eyes are wide as he stares up at me, his hands pressing against my thighs. It's cramped, that's for sure, but at least I'm small so it's manageable. I'm perched on his thighs, my own legs scrunched up and knees on either side of his hips. I can feel the steering wheel just behind my butt and I really hope I don't accidently make it honk. My hands settle over his shoulders, and I'm just a tad taller than him in this position. My stomach is swirling in nervous butterflies, but as Dylan's eyes darken I realize he wants this as much as I do. And isn't making out in a car suppose to be erotic? Or something like that, I wouldn't actually know considering I'm as much a virgin as freaking Mary.

We meet in the middle, our lips meshing together softly at first, and then gaining pressure. His lips are a little chapped but they feel like heaven against my own, sliding between my lips and his hands exploring my back. I'm the first to push us further, I always am. My tongue slips inside his mouth, rubbing against his and twining them together. Dylan squeezes his hips, making me shudder a little. He tastes like mints; he'd eaten one once we left the restaurant and I wish I'd done the same, because I'm sure I tasted like tomatoes. He doesn't complain though, just continues kissing me. His nose bumps into mine, making me break off with a little giggle.

Dylan stares up at me, smile on his lips. His thumbs slowly push past my shirt, dipping into the crevice of my hipbones. My mouth falls open a little as I stare down at him, watching the way his eyes darken. His lips stretch wide and I read them as he says, "Baby, you have no idea what you do to me."

And I gulp, because I think I do know. I think it's what he does to me.

I push forward, tangling my hands in his hair and deepening the kiss automatically. I can feel vibrations in Dylan's chest and my throat, making me think we're both making noises. We're probably fogging up the windows too, but we could careless as we kiss vigorously. His hands move from my bare hips to my ass, where he squeezes tightly and I can't help but press down against him. The crotch of my jeans rubs against his torso and I let out a long moan; I know I'm making noise because the vibration is more than obvious and Dylan's reaction gives me a hint.

He darts a hand out, grabbing the handle beside his chair that makes his seat lie back. I gasp, falling down with him and practically laying on top of him. This makes our chests press fully together, and my crotch moves from his torso down to his own jeans. It's like a completely different position, even from when we kissed laying in his bed. The angle is different, the feelings are different, and the arousal is more than obvious. I press down against him, being unable to help myself, and gasp as Dylan kisses at my neck. One of his hands is on my butt and the other is against my bare side; he'd somehow managed to push my shirt up almost to under my armpits. I shudder at his cool fingers, my eyes slipping closed in pleasure as his lips push past the collar of my shirt and suctioned just at the base of my neck. When his teeth nips it, I can't help it that my hips thrust down against his, creating a friction I've never experienced before.

Dylan's mouth is vibrating against my neck as his arm wraps tightly around my bare waist and pulls me down tighter. I can feel him against my upper thigh; his actual penis. And I'm sure he can feel mine as our hips start moving together. It's different than the other times; this time I don't think we're going to stop, our hips causing the entire car to shake. I'm too distracted to care, my head tilting back as he bites at my pulse point, making me see stars. I'm sure he's leaving marks but I could care less. The only thing that matters is my fucking ridiculously hard dick rubbing against Dylan's. Without so much as a second thought, I run my hands down his chest, past his belly button, toward our hips. He sucks his way back to my mouth, shoving his tongue inside as one of my shaking hands finds his belt. I'm trembling all over, but I'm not sure if it's from nerves or arousal.

Just as my trembling fingers finally start moving as if to take his belt off, Dylan jumps. Like, freaks out. His forehead knocks against mine, he arms push me away, and I can even feel his heartbeat escalate a little. I lean back with wide eyes, afraid I've done something completely wrong, when I see his bright red cheeks staring out the window. I furrow my brow, following his line of sight to see Gemma outside the car window, laughing her ass off. She grasps her stomach and bends over, probably crying from laughing so hard. I realize she'd tapped the window and startled Dylan half to death; sometimes I'm thankful I can't hear.

Hurriedly, I take my hand from Dylan's belt and tug my shirt down. I glace at him with wide eyes and my cheeks ablaze, wondering what his reaction will be. But he's back to his usual self, grinning and shaking his head. He lifts his hands and says, "We were getting kind of intense there, baby. Maybe it's good she interrupted us."

I nod, looking away. I'm not offended by what he said of course, he's right we were moving pretty fast. I had my hand on his belt for Christ's sake, almost touching his penis. I probably hadn't been ready in the slightest. But I was still disappointed. He was my first make out, and this was the first time I was beginning to think he'd be my first everything. Who knows, maybe even love.