Celebration!
Celebration was one of the two fics I submitted to the wonderful Clusterf*ck Challenge this summer. I hope to post the second one, Homecoming tomorrow.
I hope you enjoy this series of linked drabbles, ably beta'd, as always by chering. Thank you, chering.
1. Debbie:
One fucking year old already! I can’t believe it! So goddamn beautiful and smart as a whip, too. With that father, Gus’ll be a handful in a couple of years, but Mel and Lindsay will do O.K. They ‘re sure as hell an improvement over Joanie and Jack!
Just look at how beautiful those two have got this place looking and how many of their friends have turned out to help them celebrate. That’s what it takes to raise a kid - a lot of energy and friends to get you through the rough spots.
And me. They’ll always have me.
2. Mel:
This is what I’ve been working for…Lindsay with Gus on her lap…our three faces pressed together as we blow out one candle…a real family, no matter what some fucking bigots think. I straighten up and say, “I’d just like to say what a thrill it is for Lindsay and me to be celebrating Gus’ first birthday.”
Ted pats me on the back when I finish. Thank God for Teddy - he’s been there for me all year. Sometimes I think Ted and I are the only adults in this group, the only two hard-headed enough to see life as it is.
3. Ted:
You know, Mel doesn’t get the respect she deserves. She’s why Lindsay can sit there, all pink and white, the WASP madonna, with their son cradled on her lap. It was Mel who went to work every day, Mel who put in the long hours, Mel who sacrificed her nest egg so that Lindsay could stay home. Lindz is a great mother, but without Mel’s contributions…well, it would be a lot tougher.
Not all of us can be brilliant ad executives or social butterflies like Emmett. Mel and me, we’re not glamorous, but we do our jobs, every damn day.
4. Justin:
FUCK! I want to leave this fucking porch and go down there with everybody else, and I can’t. When I think about being close to people, them maybe touching me, I break out in a sweat. My stomach churns. I feel like I’m going to throw up. I couldn’t do this alone, but Brian said he’d find someplace where I’d be comfortable and he’d keep me safe. I mean, I know I’m safe with everybody here - I understand they aren’t going to attack me - but he meant he’d make sure I felt safe.
Which I kind of do. I guess.
5. Brian:
Dr. Slick, Woody’s resident psychiatrist, told me I had to trigger Justin’s memories of the prom - that he won’t be better until he feels his pain - but fuck me if I can figure out what the hell more to do.
Daphne and I reenacted the whole night of the prom with him - I even took him to that fucking garage so that we could reenact the bashing. Yeah, that was an enjoyable experience...I haven’t had that much fun since the last time I shut my finger in the car door…and…nothing.
Christ! He can’t remember and I can’t forget.
6. Lindsay:
The party seems to be going well. The sun is out, but it’s not too hot, the food is disappearing, everybody is socializing, Gus hasn’t gotten cranky, and all the children are playing together nicely.
Gus and I are unwrapping his presents. He’s getting some nice ones, too, although none as nice as the fat check from his father. The last gift we unwrapped was Gus’ first sports package: a baseball cap, a tiny major league tee shirt, and a bright yellow bat. Together, we were swinging it wildly. I hope Mel can coach him or God help our windows!
7. Justin:
I was watching Lindsay help Gus unwrap his presents, the yellow bat swinging in the sunshine, when suddenly I was in the garage. I smelled its unique mixture of cement, oil and cooling engines, and I heard Brian’s voice ring out, shouting, “Justin,” his voice reverberating off the walls. I turned toward him and saw the lethal arc of the bat, aimed for my head. I knew a moment of intense fear, then blackness. Brian was still saying, “Justin,” but now I was on Lindsay’s porch, holding hard onto him and shaking uncontrollably. Some things you never want to remember.
8. Brian:
I didn’t inherit any of that Irish shit - the second sight or whatever it’s called - but since Justin’s bashing I’ve gotten so attuned to him that I always know what he’s feeling, even when I’m not paying attention. I was smiling - almost happy - as I watched Lindsay ‘help’ Gus wave his little bat, then suddenly I knew Justin was scared. “Justin,” I said and turned to pull him into my arms. He was shaking and clinging, and I knew, I don’t know how, that he was remembering.
Damn Lindsay, damn the bat…or bless them both…I can’t fucking decide which.
9. Justin:
My need is finally greater than my fear. I let his hands slide over me, reacquainting me with his touch. Long fingers enter me. I shudder, and he stops but does not withdraw. I take a deep breath, remembering the white silk scarf. I never want to see it again, so I let my body go soft, accepting him. The lube is cold, and I moan, but I don’t pull away, and when he presses against the hard ring of my anus, I turn my head and draw him into a kiss. I want this life-affirming sex…for me…and for him.
I hope you enjoy this series of linked drabbles, ably beta'd, as always by chering. Thank you, chering.
1. Debbie:
One fucking year old already! I can’t believe it! So goddamn beautiful and smart as a whip, too. With that father, Gus’ll be a handful in a couple of years, but Mel and Lindsay will do O.K. They ‘re sure as hell an improvement over Joanie and Jack!
Just look at how beautiful those two have got this place looking and how many of their friends have turned out to help them celebrate. That’s what it takes to raise a kid - a lot of energy and friends to get you through the rough spots.
And me. They’ll always have me.
2. Mel:
This is what I’ve been working for…Lindsay with Gus on her lap…our three faces pressed together as we blow out one candle…a real family, no matter what some fucking bigots think. I straighten up and say, “I’d just like to say what a thrill it is for Lindsay and me to be celebrating Gus’ first birthday.”
Ted pats me on the back when I finish. Thank God for Teddy - he’s been there for me all year. Sometimes I think Ted and I are the only adults in this group, the only two hard-headed enough to see life as it is.
3. Ted:
You know, Mel doesn’t get the respect she deserves. She’s why Lindsay can sit there, all pink and white, the WASP madonna, with their son cradled on her lap. It was Mel who went to work every day, Mel who put in the long hours, Mel who sacrificed her nest egg so that Lindsay could stay home. Lindz is a great mother, but without Mel’s contributions…well, it would be a lot tougher.
Not all of us can be brilliant ad executives or social butterflies like Emmett. Mel and me, we’re not glamorous, but we do our jobs, every damn day.
4. Justin:
FUCK! I want to leave this fucking porch and go down there with everybody else, and I can’t. When I think about being close to people, them maybe touching me, I break out in a sweat. My stomach churns. I feel like I’m going to throw up. I couldn’t do this alone, but Brian said he’d find someplace where I’d be comfortable and he’d keep me safe. I mean, I know I’m safe with everybody here - I understand they aren’t going to attack me - but he meant he’d make sure I felt safe.
Which I kind of do. I guess.
5. Brian:
Dr. Slick, Woody’s resident psychiatrist, told me I had to trigger Justin’s memories of the prom - that he won’t be better until he feels his pain - but fuck me if I can figure out what the hell more to do.
Daphne and I reenacted the whole night of the prom with him - I even took him to that fucking garage so that we could reenact the bashing. Yeah, that was an enjoyable experience...I haven’t had that much fun since the last time I shut my finger in the car door…and…nothing.
Christ! He can’t remember and I can’t forget.
6. Lindsay:
The party seems to be going well. The sun is out, but it’s not too hot, the food is disappearing, everybody is socializing, Gus hasn’t gotten cranky, and all the children are playing together nicely.
Gus and I are unwrapping his presents. He’s getting some nice ones, too, although none as nice as the fat check from his father. The last gift we unwrapped was Gus’ first sports package: a baseball cap, a tiny major league tee shirt, and a bright yellow bat. Together, we were swinging it wildly. I hope Mel can coach him or God help our windows!
7. Justin:
I was watching Lindsay help Gus unwrap his presents, the yellow bat swinging in the sunshine, when suddenly I was in the garage. I smelled its unique mixture of cement, oil and cooling engines, and I heard Brian’s voice ring out, shouting, “Justin,” his voice reverberating off the walls. I turned toward him and saw the lethal arc of the bat, aimed for my head. I knew a moment of intense fear, then blackness. Brian was still saying, “Justin,” but now I was on Lindsay’s porch, holding hard onto him and shaking uncontrollably. Some things you never want to remember.
8. Brian:
I didn’t inherit any of that Irish shit - the second sight or whatever it’s called - but since Justin’s bashing I’ve gotten so attuned to him that I always know what he’s feeling, even when I’m not paying attention. I was smiling - almost happy - as I watched Lindsay ‘help’ Gus wave his little bat, then suddenly I knew Justin was scared. “Justin,” I said and turned to pull him into my arms. He was shaking and clinging, and I knew, I don’t know how, that he was remembering.
Damn Lindsay, damn the bat…or bless them both…I can’t fucking decide which.
9. Justin:
My need is finally greater than my fear. I let his hands slide over me, reacquainting me with his touch. Long fingers enter me. I shudder, and he stops but does not withdraw. I take a deep breath, remembering the white silk scarf. I never want to see it again, so I let my body go soft, accepting him. The lube is cold, and I moan, but I don’t pull away, and when he presses against the hard ring of my anus, I turn my head and draw him into a kiss. I want this life-affirming sex…for me…and for him.