Summer Bond : Shortie

"Describe, in one sentence, what kind of lover you want," she said.

I stared at her for a beat, and then slowly a smile drew itself across my face. "I want somebody who I can sneak up on in the shower, jump them fully dressed—getting soaked—with the excuse that I was seeing if they'd notice a psychopath sneaking up on them, and all they'd do is roll their eyes and tell me to take my clothes off and that I was going to be the one cleaning up the mess when our shower was done...and I wouldn't mind, because, really, I just wanted to be with them right then," I said.

Now she stared at me for a beat, and then slowly a smile traced itself onto her face. "Oh, sweetie, you really are so cute when you're drunk," she giggled. She swiftly turned her gaze back to the magazine she had been reading this little love quiz to me from. "Okay, now, what is the first thing you notice about a guy you like?" she asked.

"Eyes?" I guessed more than answered.

"Oh, come on! Mommy really appreciates you keeping her company like this when her bastard date ditched her, but you really need to try harder than that! Give your mother another good, loving, drunken answer!" she exclaimed.

I sighed, rolled my eyes. Still, I thought about it more now. What was the first thing I had noticed about Him? "The first thing I notice about a guy I like...is how loud or quiet he is," I said softly, unable to keep that goofy, lovesick grin from coming onto my face again.

"...That's not very romantic, Addault, honey," my mother said, frowning slightly.

"You didn't say it had to be romantic. Anyways, it's true," I said.

Her frown suddenly turned upside-down as she began giggling softly. "You're thinking of Him again, aren't you?" she asked. I didn't respond, merely blushing and looking away. She swiftly cast aside the girly magazine, throwing her arms around me and hugging me close. "Oh! Please tell your mommy that she gets to meet Him this year! She really wishes she could meet the man you love!" she exclaimed as she squished me in her arms.

"Mother, please, you look like you're robbing the cradle," I muttered, glancing around at the various other people in the beach bar and restaurant. Thankfully, there were relatively few people here than was usual at this time of day, as most people were at the summer festival that was located more towards the center of town.

“Mommy can’t help herself! You know she gets emotional when her date dumps her! Especially when her very own son has a date of his own planned for later that day!” she exclaimed, bursting into tears now.

“Mother, please!” I exclaimed, only blushing harder. Why did she have to cry? She knew I got red-faced whenever around people crying. God forbid they be crying on me, like she was now.

“Mommy is so proud of you! You’ve found a good man for yourself! You’re so good at this relationship thing, sweetie! Maybe mommy should get you to help her!” she exclaimed, still crying rivers as she clung to me.

“You know, mother, perhaps we should stop drinking now. You’re obviously very drunk, and I’m somewhat drunk, too. How about we go for a walk on the beach? Let the salty air and ocean breeze sober us up. And then, perhaps, we’ll go to the summer festival. Together. And you can meet Him,” I said weakly, just wanting her to stop crying.

She all at once stopped crying and again began squishing me in a hug. “Oh! Mommy knew you wanted her to meet your man! Mommy couldn’t ever hope for a better son than you! You’re the only man mommy needs in her life! Stupid dicks like Dick can just go blow themselves!” she declared.

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s go now. Before we receive another two week banishment for disturbing the peace,” I said, laughing weakly as I dragged us both up from our seats.

“Yes! Off to the cultural festival summer jam thingamabob!” she declared. She suddenly released me, dashing off.

“No! Wait! The beach first! Mother! Mother?!” I shouted. I swiftly pulled out my wallet and threw some money on the counter, then dashing after her as quickly as I could in my semi-drunken state. Honestly, how could she run so well and so fast when she was more potted than I was? This had something to do with her running track when she was in school. I just knew it did.



I sighed, hanging my head in defeat as I trudged through the throngs of people. I had, for the most part, given up on locating my mother and then relocating her somewhere safer for a drunk, like her bed. Still, out of love and loyalty to her, I was still wandering around in search for her, despite wanting to relocate myself somewhere far, far away from all of these people.

“You look like a lost little puppy. Then again, you always seem to be lost when I find you,” murmured a very familiar voice. I spun in the direction of his voice, throwing myself into the arms he’d opened with the intention to snatch me up in a hug.

“Jerk! I do not look little!” I exclaimed indignantly, even as I simultaneously pressed my face into his neck and huddled against him.

He laughed deeply in his throat, closing his arms around me now and holding me even closer than I already had been. “You look littler than me. Face it, you’ll never out grow me, runt. You’re past the growth sprout years, and I’m still six inches taller than you,” he said all too happily.

“I can’t help it if you’re a lanky freak,” I muttered, being muffled somewhat by how hard I had my face pressed to his flesh.

“You really should be nicer to me, calling me all sorts of mean names. We haven’t seen each other in nine months, and yet you’re still being so cruel. I really feel underappreciated,” he said. I didn’t have to look to know he was smirking. I could hear that smirk of his in his voice. He enjoyed trying to guilt trip me.

“I can’t help it. I might be slightly somewhat drunk,” I mumbled.

“I thought I told you that drinking is bad for you, and that you should stop?” he asked.

“You did. And I told my mother that. And she guilt trips me into drinking with her, just like you tried to guilt trip me last year to stop drinking,” I replied, “The only difference is I get to see her all year round, whereas I only see you in the summer, so she can send me on longer and larger guilt trips.”

“Oh? We’ll see about that. Try this one on for size: Seeing as you see me less, shouldn’t it be natural that you should try to accommodate me more? You can show your love to her in any way you wish all year long. You can’t do that with me, though. Not unless you did something for me all year long—something like stop drinking—that shows me you love me even when I’m gone,” he said.

“….You two are both pure evil,” I muttered. Only now did I pull my face out of his neck, frowning as I looked up at him.

“I’ll take that as a promise to stop drinking,” he said, smiling.

I rolled my eyes widely, scowling softly. My scowl vanished quickly, though, when I noticed the stares we were drawing. Lots of people were looking at us—two fully grown men, standing in the middle of the pathway, wrapped in each others’ arms in a rather intimate way. People wouldn’t have stared like this when we were younger. People didn’t even stare this much last summer. It really was a stinging reminder of the time passing between my love’s visits. We were getting older real fast. That’s why, this year, I had to do it…

“Come on. Let’s go grab a bite to eat. The Cajun and Chinese cuisines this year are not only a lot cheaper priced, but I hear they taste better, too. I want to check them both out before the sun sets and the light shows begin,” he said, interrupting my thoughts.

I sighed, releasing him and stepping back. “You go ahead. I can’t. I’ve got to find my mother. She’s more drunk than I am, and I lost her in the crowd. I’ll meet up with you later,” I said, looking away somewhat guiltily.

He stared for a beat, and then smiled widely as he swiftly pulled me back against him. “Don’t be silly, Addault. I want to check out the food with you. If I didn’t, I would have gone for some earlier in the day. I’ll help you find your mother and take her home, then we’ll go for Cajun, watch a couple light shows, snag some Chinese after, and then go on a couple crappy carnival rides before the fireworks start,” he said.

“Oh, Him, I don’t want to screw up your schedule, though. I want you to be able to do all the things you come during the summer for,” I mumbled, still looking away as I felt pangs of guilt. I wasn’t feeling guilty so much because I was hurting his schedule, but rather because I really wanted him to abandon his plans to help me. I was being a mite selfish

“You really are being so silly. I don’t come for the summer festival. I never have. From birth to eight, I came here because my family made me. And then every year after that, it’s been because I wanted to spend time with you, not spend time at this stupid festival,” he purred, nuzzling around my mouth insistently, as though he wanted to spread his smile onto my face.

I continued to keep my eyes elsewhere, though now it was more due to embarrassment than to guilt. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to accidentally ki—” I started to say, but he cut me short with…a kiss. One that didn’t seem at all accidental, either. Especially not with how he took advantage of my partially open mouth to slip his tongue swiftly in.

Despite my surprise, I returned the kiss swiftly, albeit somewhat weakly. He let out a pleased purr, working on my shirt sleeve to pull it down and reveal my shoulder as he warmly massaged my neck. I had just began to fully return the kiss, tongue and all, when I heard a disgusted scoff. Abruptly I broke away from the kiss. Looking towards the noise, I caught sight of a woman holding two young boys by the hand. She was giving us the ugliest look I had ever seen on any person’s face.

“Ignore her,” Him whispered softly in my ear. He didn’t release me nor cease to lovingly massage my neck and shoulders. That woman’s reaction—as well as all of the stares we were receiving—meant nothing to him. But….he didn’t live here. This wasn’t his hometown. He was only here for the summer. The likelihood of him ever meeting the same people twice were relatively small, so he could afford to not care what they thought.

I lived here, though. Not just me, but also my mother, my only living family. This was our home, and what the community thought of either of us affected both of us. They already thought badly enough of my mother: A single mother. Drinking (if not drunk) more often than not. Even raising me by herself and even with her bad drinking habits, she had maintained fairly lovely looks.  She was known to be very loose about personal space and privacy, no matter gender nor age nor relationship.

While people would be disgusted with me, they would disguise it as pity. They would say it was just too bad I had such a mother. They would say that if I had a different mother, or there had been the presence of a father, that I wouldn’t have gotten screwed up. They would say all sorts of horrible things about me. I didn’t mind that, though. What I minded is that everything they said was wrong or disgusting or horrid about me would, in the end, be put on my mother’s head.

I was dragged out of my thoughts as Him turned my head so I would look at him. “Addault? Addault, are you okay?” Him whispered, “Why are you wearing that look? What’s wrong?”

I just shook my head, looking away again as I stepped back from him. “Let’s just go find mother. I’m worried about her,” I said softly.

“But you looked so sad….” he started to say, but he trailed off, seeming to think better of it. Shrugging it off with some reluctance, he grabbed up my hand and swiftly led me away.



“Mother? Are you conscious?” I asked. I uncertainly reached out, pushing her bangs back out of her face so that she could see us easier and we could see her easier. She nodded her head weakly, yawning as she did so. “Good. Since I know you wanted to meet Him, I thought I’d introduce you before putting you to bed. So, well, this is Him,” I said, gesturing to my love, “Him Majix.”

My mother turned tired eyes to other man, smiling weakly. “It’s nice to meet you. This sweetie’s name is Manny Guy, Addault’s brother,” my mother said, pointing to herself.

“She means mother,” I said quickly, though it really wasn’t necessary.

“Don’t correct mommy, honey. She knows exactly what she meant to say, so there’s no need to,” she said.

“Wow. You weren’t lying about her talking in third person all the time. I thought she was only doing that back at the Tiki bar because she was half unconscious and trying to reassure you,” Him said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“Why would I lie about that? Why would I lie at all? C’mon. Help me get her into bed now,” I grunted, grabbing my mother under the arms and hoisting her to her feet.

“Do we have to change her clothes or something first?” he asked uncertainly, swiftly moving over and wrapping his arms around my mother to stabilize her.

“No. She doesn’t like to change until after she’s had a shower. She’d go to sleep in her dress even if she wasn’t completely smashed,” I replied. Carefully now we began maneuvering her backwards to her bed, which was pushed up along the far wall.

“After a shower? As in, she showers in her clothes?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah. We don’t have a washing machine, so she would naturally wash her clothes in the tub anyways. She says it’s just easier and saves water by showering while in the clothes she’s gotten dirty by wearing,” I said.

“Oh? You don’t also wash yourself in your clothes, do you? Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’d just figure you would have mentioned it to me by now if you did,” he said. Having by now reached the bed, we slowly laid her out on it.

“No. I just bag my stuff and take it to the launderette to wash it. I’m willing to part with a couple coins a week to wash my clothes. I used to wash with my clothes on like mother when I was really little, but I stopped when I was six. That’s when I first started getting a little allowance, and I spent all of it on washing my clothes at the launderette,” I said, laughing softly to myself.

“My, you’re so economical-minded. Using your allowance to wash clothes when you were six? Seriously, if I’d had an allowance that young, I’d have spent it all on candy or something useless and quickly spent like that,” he replied with a laugh of his own.

I glanced at him, quirking a curious eyebrow as I covered my mother with a thin blanket. “Oh? As I recall it, the year you started getting an allowance—you were twelve—you saved it all up and brought it with you on summer vacation, and you spent all of it getting disposable cameras to document our summer so you could make a scrapbook. And you’ve done that every year since,” I said, smiling softly now.

“Yes, well, I didn’t meet you until I was eight. What I’m saying is that if I’d gotten an allowance when I was six, I would have spent it all on useless crap up until I was eight and met you, at which point I would have begun to save up for cameras like I’ve come into the habit of doing,” he said, returning the smile on a much larger level.

I looked away, hiding a blush as I moved for the door to make a swift retreat. “Speaking of which, I noticed you’re not toting your usual backpack of cameras around. Did you ditch them at your hotel, or just not buy any yet?” I asked curiously, throwing a very short glance over my shoulder at him.

“Ditched. Want to go get them now, though? I have a surprise waiting for you that I left with the cameras,” he replied, following after me quickly.

“Can we eat first? I haven’t had anything but saltines when mother and I were drinking,” I said.

“Alrighty. Cajun or Chinese? Or were you thinking another sort of cuisine?” he asked. Perhaps in an attempt to wordlessly persuade me not to choose a cuisine other than one of his two favorites, he wrapped his arms around me and leaned on me as we descended the stairs to the first level of my small house, almost making me trip up several times. Of course, I probably wouldn’t have nearly tripped so much if I didn’t keep trying to shrug him off.

“Anything. I’m hungry enough to eat a horse right now. A live one,” I grunted.

“I love a man with a healthy appetite,” he purred, nipping at my ear playfully as we reached the bottom of the stairs. I immediately tripped—over my own feet, no less!—and we both went tumbling to the floor.



“I don’t want to try it. You eat your own chicken corndog,” I said, putting my hand up to block the offending food being held in my face.

“It’s not a chicken corndog. It’s deep-fried chicken on a stick. Now come on and try some. Just take a little bite,” Him said, trying to move the food around my hand so he could force it into my mouth.

“No way. No how. I hate chicken. I eat the Cajun chicken and Chinese chicken rice because I love you. But I don’t love you enough to eat that nasty looking chicken on a stick,” I said, trying to move my lips as little as possible as I continued to block the offending food.

He pouted now, pulling the chicken away. “That really hurts, Addault. I love you enough to eat those artichokes you like. Why can’t you eat my chicken stick?” he asked.

I gave him a flat stare for a moment before responding. “For starters, you like artichoke more than I do. For seconds, don’t call it your chicken stick. That makes it sound even worse,” I said, shaking my head and rolling my eyes as I looked away now.

“Do you mean worse, or do you really mean more perverse?” he purred, poking me in the ear with his chicken on a stick.

“Now that’s just nasty. Don’t touch me with it. Keep your chicken stick to yourself,” I said, leaning away from the chicken.

“Aw, come on, Addault! What if I dip it in something? Catsup? Hot sauce? Apple sauce? Onion dip? Cheddar dip?” he persisted, waving the chicken on a stick at me.

“I don’t care if you dip it in chocolate. I’m not eating it,” I said, dodging away from the chicken carefully. Or, well, I should have been moving carefully, considering I was carrying both a Shirley Temple and a rainbow snow cone. As it were, I was thinking more about keeping the chicken away from me, and I consequently ended up with both my drink and my dessert on my shirt.

Having successfully splashed and smashed my food and drink on my clothes, we both just stood there for several minutes and stared at the mess as it soaked in, nicely (and probably permanently) staining the cloth. “…My bad,” Him said after several seconds of silently starting at the stain.

“…Oh yeah. You are so buying me a new shirt,” I said, raising my eyes to him. Before I knew it, he’d suddenly grabbed me an begun to drag me towards the nearest shirt-bearing booth. “I meant before you leave for the summer, not right this very minute!” I exclaimed, realizing his intent.

“But you need a new shirt now, so I’ll just buy one now. If I don’t, you’ll have to go home and change, and then we’ll never be able to go get my cameras before the light shows start!” he exclaimed in return, not relinquishing his hold on me.

“But they’re tie-dye. I don’t like tie-dye,” I said quickly. Actually, I had nothing against tie-dye. I just had something against buying clothes from a vendor that was only set up in this spot for a single day of the summer-long festival. This section had the pay-a-day booths. While they provided things at the cheapest price, they also provided them at the cheapest quality. I didn’t trust any clothes coming out of this section. It would be rude to say that, though, thus the made-up excuse.

“You would look really sexy in tie-dye,” Him purred, eyeing me like I was food. Fifteen minutes and ten shirts later, I had settled on a pastel rainbow tie-dye shirt. I looked neither sexy nor pleased as we left the booth, Him walking and me stalking.

“I can’t believe you paid for a shirt stained with dyes. I could’ve just worn my shirt stained with my drink and snow cone. It’s the same stupid thing,” I muttered not quite under my breath.

“I can’t believe it took so long to find a shirt you liked. Now we don’t have time to get the cameras before the light show,” he pouted.

“You better get those cameras and take a picture of this stupid shirt before the night ends, because as soon as I’m taking this itchy thing off, I’m burning it,” I grumbled.

“And the alcohol withdrawal begins,” he said lightly, seeming to be thinking aloud.

“Alcohol. That’s what I need,” I said, thinking aloud just to annoy him. However, annoyance was not the reaction I got. Him rounded on me all at once, swiftly backing my up into a dark nook nestled between two booths. I might have yelped me in surprise when he grabbed me, had he not already put his mouth to mine in a kiss before doing so.

“If you really want, we can go back to my room and I can take off your shirt for you,” he purred past the kiss, sliding his hands up under the shirt in question.

I blushed hard, shivering at his touch—the first groping of the summer and, guessing by his tone of voice, not nearly the last groping of today, let alone the summer. “What about the light show?” I asked uncertainly.

“What about the light show?” he asked in lieu of reply. He was, of course, actually asking if the stupid light show was more important than deepening our bond. And, while it wasn’t, I was kind of scared of going to his hotel room with him. He normally stayed with his aunt and uncle while down here for the summer. From the instant he’d first called me several weeks ago and told me he was thinking of not staying with them this year, though, I had known something big was up. My fear was that “something big” might end up being sex. The one thing we hadn’t done in our many summers spent together.

“The…This is the first light show of the festival. It’s going to be one of the two biggest ones. To kick off the whole thing, you know. Same with the fireworks show later on. Do you really want to miss either of them?” I asked. I knew my excuse was really pathetic. Like with my pathetic tie-dye t-shirt excuse, though, it would be rude of me to give my real reason for not wanting to.

“We’re already going to be late for it, so why not skip it altogether? Come on, Addault. I really want to show you the surprise I have for you. It’s a really big surprise. It’ll shock you right out of your shirt and your pants,” he purred. My shirt rode higher and higher as his groping moved up slowly. I had a feeling that, whether or not we went back to his hotel room, I was going to be deprived of all of my clothes quite soon.



“I hope you know I blame you for this,” I said, staring at Him with a less than happy expression on my face.

“Honestly, how was I supposed to know they built a koi pond there for the festival?” Him replied, “You should have told me,” he added almost as an afterthought.

“I told you to stop,” I returned, refusing to have the blame passed to me.

“I thought you just meant stop trying to have sex in the middle of the festival,” he replied lightly, refusing the accept the blame himself.

“You should have stopped even if you thought I only meant that!” I snapped.

“I thought you were just suffering from a small case of cold feet,” he said.

“And now I’m suffering from a case of a plain old cold,” I grunted, scowling as I shifted the thermometer in my mouth.

“Stop moving it. Leave it in one spot for move than five seconds, and maybe it would register your temperature already,” Him said, repositioning the thermometer himself now. Hypocrite.

“You know, I might not have caught this cold if, after sending me into the koi pond, you did not persist to insist that we have sex then and there,” I muttered darkly, “As a matter of fact, if we—” I cut myself off with a sneeze, sending the thermometer to the floor. “Damnit. The least you could have done is also gotten a cold,” I muttered, wiping my eyes as he retrieved the thermometer and wiped it off.

“I can’t help it if I’m more hardy than you are,” he replied, thrusting the thermometer back into my mouth.

“You owe me a pair of pants as well as better shirt than that icky, itchy tie-dye thing, by the way,” I said.

“Alright. I’ll buy you a whole set of clothes after you get better. For now, though, shut your mouth for a minute so we can get your temperature,” he said, smiling warmly and laughing softly at me. I opened my mouth to say something, but he swiftly leaning over and wrapped me in his arms. I scowled for a moment, but then resigned with a sigh and returned the hug, sliding my arms loosely around him.

After several moments, the embrace ended at the sound of the thermometer beeping, telling us it had registered my temperature. Him pulled back, taking the device from my mouth and reading it. “Hm…only a mild fever . You’ll probably be good to go by tomorrow. You can just stay here with me tonight, then,” he said.

“Must’ve just felt like a high fever before because I was all hot and bothered from our strenuous activity,” I muttered to myself as he stood up and moved to put the thermometer away.

“Don’t you mean hot and heavy from our sexual activity?” he purred, swiftly returning to the bedside.

“Don’t flatter yourself. You weren’t that good. Half the time you were like a fish flopping around on dry land. Only in actuality you were a human flopping around in a koi pond,” I grunted.

He just laughed, rubbing my arms warmly as he scooted me over and scooted into bed with me. “There you go again, being all cruel to me,” he chuckled.

“You started it this time. From now on, I’m going to call you Koi. That is your new name, until you live down this incident,” I said, now teetering between annoyance and amusement.

“Maybe I don’t want to live down this incident. Did you ever think of that?” he said, eyeing me hungrily just like he had earlier.

“You’re not allowed to look at me that way when I’m sick, koi boy. If you even think of making my temperature rise any higher again tonight I’m kicking you out of bed,” I said. I might have added in a scowl for effect, but I was already working very hard just to keep a straight face.

He sighed, looking away with most likely faked disappointment. “Well, even if I can’t raise your temperature anymore, can I still show you my surprise for you?” he asked. I opened my mouth to respond automatically, but paused as I actually registered the meaning of his question. He hadn’t shown me the surprise yet? He hadn’t sprung on me the big something I’d been anticipating? That meant sex wasn’t it. What the Hell was it, then?

He turned his eyes back to me now, catching my surprise. Realizing I wasn’t going to respond, he went on. “I know you were half unconscious when I carried you here, but I’m sure you’ve realized by now that we aren’t in any hotel room,” he said. I stared at him for a beat, and then ran my gaze around the room. This certainly wasn’t a hotel room. It was too nice. Too warm. Too friendly. Too personal.

“This….” I couldn’t even begin the thought, let alone finish it. But, as my mother said, I knew what I meant, so there was no need. More importantly, Him knew what I meant, too.

“Mhm. That’s right,” he said, nodding his head softly as though urging me to continue that train of thought.

My eyes finally wandered back to him now. “…I thought you said you weren’t going to stay with your aunt and uncle this year, though?” I asked.

“I’m not staying with them,” he said simply.

“But this is their house,” I stated. He smiled softly, shaking his head now. I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth to stop it from falling completely open in shock. After several minutes of heavy but evenly regulated breathing, I managed to calm down enough to speak again. “You….You bought their house?” I whispered as though afraid saying it too loud might jinx it.

He chuckled softly at me, nodding his head as he smiled wider. “I did. I saved up my salary all year, and the first thing I did when I got here was buy their house out from under them. Sorry I lied about having bought cameras. I won’t be able to document this summer for our scrapbook, unfortunately, as I don’t have even a single red cent left to my name. Not after buying your shirt, anyways,” he said.

“Did you just apologize about lying about the cameras? You should apologize for lying about the hotel!” I exclaimed.

“Hey, I never said I was staying in a hotel. I only ever said I wouldn’t be staying with my aunt and uncle. You just assumed I would be staying in a hotel, and I merely ailed to correct you for the sake of saving my surprise for the right moment,” he said, smiling smugly.

I scowled at him for a moment, but slowly said scowl faded away as all of this information finally stopped circulating in my head and settled on my mind. "You….You’re staying…for all of the year now?” I asked, some small disbelief and shock still on my face and in my voice.

His smile softened, the smugness being pushed out by love. He took one of my hands in his, slowly raising it to his mouth and placing a kiss on it, not taking his eyes off of me for even a moment. “…I’ll be staying here for all of my life now,” he murmured, keeping his eyes locked on mine.

My face was already flushed slightly from my fever, but now it darkened incredibly as a blush took over. “…I think….I think I take back what I said about not raising my temperature anymore,” I said, swallowing hard. He didn’t hesitate to hold me to that statement or to hold me to he himself. I was no longer afraid to deepen the bond we shared. Our bond was going to extend now from just a summer bond anyways, so it was only natural to deepen it as well.