Oh my crap. I'm so happy. Wow, really, really happy. Ham did the sweetest thing! For those of you who read my post about Alex, Ham's like a female version of him. She dropped off a mini-cake that said "we <3 you," a bouquet of flowers with a happy birthday balloon, and a card. The card had a piggy on the front! Well, at any rate, she dropped this all off and drove away, then called me and told me to open my front door. A drop and run! She's such a sweet person. I wish I was more like her. Heh. And she signed the card from her, Chantelle, and Missy. She did the same thing for Missy's birthday. That is, she signed that card from her, Chantelle, and me. At any rate, Ham's a complete darling. And Ann sent a card and Chantelle gave me a Boondocks book. Ack, I love it! I <3 Boondocks, a lot.
I have seduced Chantelle with Asian Kun-Fu Generation. She now wants a cd, as does Ham. Hehehe. And though it took me several hours, I finally figured out how to text-message, or rather, since it's a Sprint phone, shortmessage, on my new phone. Yay! Now off to play the piano, with my new book! But before I do that, a short drabble, on Iruka's life and foster parents in This and Here and Now, for
fabledtruant.
Iruka's standing in the doorway to his house, his new home. It's been five years, but he still feels strange, walking into a house he didn't grow up in. He sets his backpack down on the floor, leaning it against the wall, and kicks off his shoes. He can hear talking from further in the house, and right now, covered in sweat and Kakashi's scent, he doesn't want to talk to anyone. He slips down the short hallway to the staircase, fully intent upon his bedroom and a shower, when a head peeks out from the living room.
"Iruka," she says cheerfully, and he feels a bang of guilt. "You missed dinner, but I saved you some. Would you like me to warm it up now?"
"Not hungry," he mumbles, setting a foot on the staircase, when another head pokes around the wall.
"We were worried, Son," the man says, and it's light, airy, nothing dragging the word 'Son' down.
Iruka wants to cry, but he smiles. He's not their son, never will be, but sometimes, like now, he wants to be. They're young, beautiful, happy. More than that, they're alive. He can touch them, feel their warm skin, and when she hugs him, smiling and laughing and saying something about warming up dinner for him, because he has to be hungry, he's a teenage boy, the hidden tears in his eyes burn and burn.
"Thank you, Aunt," he says, because it's the fastest way out. He slides away from her touch, because just the thought of her touching him, after he's been fucked up the ass by another boy, makes him sick. He can see her walk into the kitchen as he runs up the stairs and when he gets into his room he slams his back into the door, sliding down until he's sitting on the ground. He can't let them know of Kakashi, of his dirty little secrets, because then everything will go wrong. He's terrified that they'll hate them, because he loves them both, but he's even more afraid that they'll be fine with it, that they'll laugh and hug him, because then he'll love them more, and he can't afford to love them as much as he loved his parents.
He crawls across his floor, pulling open his dresser's drawers to dig through until he finds a pair of pajamas, then leaves his room for the bathroom, turning on the shower water to as hot as he can get it. He washes and washes, scrubbing at his skin until it's red, until the smell of Kakashi is gone. When he finally returns downstairs, hair dripping water on his pajamas, they're both in the kitchen sitting at the counter, eating ice cream. There's a plate of food sitting across from them and Iruka settles himself on a stool gingerly.
"You took so long in the shower, I had to warm up your food twice," she says, but she's still smiling. Her husband's laughing and she smacks him playfully, and he steals some of her ice cream. Iruka watches, almost awed, and once again, he's reminded of his parents.
"Thank you, Aunt," he says again, and he's never hated the word 'Aunt' so much in his life.
That's...my HS Iruka's home. Well, off to eat breakfast. Or lunch. Whatever it would be, at this time of day.
I have seduced Chantelle with Asian Kun-Fu Generation. She now wants a cd, as does Ham. Hehehe. And though it took me several hours, I finally figured out how to text-message, or rather, since it's a Sprint phone, shortmessage, on my new phone. Yay! Now off to play the piano, with my new book! But before I do that, a short drabble, on Iruka's life and foster parents in This and Here and Now, for
Iruka's standing in the doorway to his house, his new home. It's been five years, but he still feels strange, walking into a house he didn't grow up in. He sets his backpack down on the floor, leaning it against the wall, and kicks off his shoes. He can hear talking from further in the house, and right now, covered in sweat and Kakashi's scent, he doesn't want to talk to anyone. He slips down the short hallway to the staircase, fully intent upon his bedroom and a shower, when a head peeks out from the living room.
"Iruka," she says cheerfully, and he feels a bang of guilt. "You missed dinner, but I saved you some. Would you like me to warm it up now?"
"Not hungry," he mumbles, setting a foot on the staircase, when another head pokes around the wall.
"We were worried, Son," the man says, and it's light, airy, nothing dragging the word 'Son' down.
Iruka wants to cry, but he smiles. He's not their son, never will be, but sometimes, like now, he wants to be. They're young, beautiful, happy. More than that, they're alive. He can touch them, feel their warm skin, and when she hugs him, smiling and laughing and saying something about warming up dinner for him, because he has to be hungry, he's a teenage boy, the hidden tears in his eyes burn and burn.
"Thank you, Aunt," he says, because it's the fastest way out. He slides away from her touch, because just the thought of her touching him, after he's been fucked up the ass by another boy, makes him sick. He can see her walk into the kitchen as he runs up the stairs and when he gets into his room he slams his back into the door, sliding down until he's sitting on the ground. He can't let them know of Kakashi, of his dirty little secrets, because then everything will go wrong. He's terrified that they'll hate them, because he loves them both, but he's even more afraid that they'll be fine with it, that they'll laugh and hug him, because then he'll love them more, and he can't afford to love them as much as he loved his parents.
He crawls across his floor, pulling open his dresser's drawers to dig through until he finds a pair of pajamas, then leaves his room for the bathroom, turning on the shower water to as hot as he can get it. He washes and washes, scrubbing at his skin until it's red, until the smell of Kakashi is gone. When he finally returns downstairs, hair dripping water on his pajamas, they're both in the kitchen sitting at the counter, eating ice cream. There's a plate of food sitting across from them and Iruka settles himself on a stool gingerly.
"You took so long in the shower, I had to warm up your food twice," she says, but she's still smiling. Her husband's laughing and she smacks him playfully, and he steals some of her ice cream. Iruka watches, almost awed, and once again, he's reminded of his parents.
"Thank you, Aunt," he says again, and he's never hated the word 'Aunt' so much in his life.
That's...my HS Iruka's home. Well, off to eat breakfast. Or lunch. Whatever it would be, at this time of day.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-06 05:12 pm (UTC)Killed two birds with one stone, actually. At first, I was thinkin' it was uneasiness, but then, bam, I was like, oh, he's sore. That's nice. I just killed two birds. :)