Date: Thu, 29 Jan 2009 16:01:21 +0900 From: Crispy Toast Subject: Leaving Home part 5 Leaving Home (part 5) by Chris (aka Crispy Toast) This is going to take a slightly faster pace as this episode covers just over a month whereas the previous ones covered a few days each, focussing on one. With only a brief intro to set the scene, I'm going to take you to a couple of my favourite memories of this time. The titles are song titles suggested by a friend who read an early draft. If they suck, blame him :) Sorry about the delays - between a heatwave, our national holiday and other stuff going on, I got rather busy. Next couple will be coming very shortly. This particular chapter has almost no explicit content, so no disclaimers. There was certainly no shortage of sex during the period this chapter took place but it didn't add much to the story or the picture of the two people in love so I wanted to focus on the relationship between me and Mirko more. Funny how sometimes it's these moments rather than the sex that stand out in your mind thinking back. ----------------------- Part 5 - The Miracle of Love [[ Quarter past four. Yawn. Cough. Turn on the light. WHAA. Cover my eyes. Too fucking early. Turn off light. Rip off shirt. Snuggle blanket. Think of Mirko. Smile. Reach for phone. Read last four text messages. Smile again and mouth "love you". Snuggle blanket tighter. ]] I didn't even want to get Mirko out of my head. Thinking of him made me smile and got me through the day. I loved him. I didn't quite know what that meant beyond a glowy, happy feeling that made me smile every time I pictured his face, eyes and smile in my mind and filled my body with an almost instinctive urge to hug, but I liked it. I'd never felt this way before about anybody. As the next few weeks progressed, I saw more and more of this amazing person. I continued my infrequent missing of school but was there often enough to get the gist, and sometimes we would meet after school and spend the evening together. I lived in his smile. I was comforted by his eyes, and felt special every time he touched me. I think we became friends as well as just sexual partners - he'd take me out for pasta, or we'd go to his university campus, or even just sit at the beach with a Coke in one hand and the other arm around each other, or in the car hugging and making out. I don't know, it was weird. I think the fact we spent most of the time in the northern suburbs where no-one that I knew was likely to wander, I felt like I could be open and just be myself and didn't care what others thought of me. Nothing like that ever mattered when I looked into his soft brown eyes and he smiled at me in his unique and special way. I could just cradle my head in his neck and be lost in his smell and the softness of his skin. Mmmmmmm. *shiver* Memories. The worst part was I couldn't tell anyone. What on earth would I have said, anyway? I wasn't gay, after all. This was just a good mate. Yeah, like, I loved him. So fucking what? But my mates started to notice I wasn't spending so much time with them any more. I'd given up trying to get the girls' attention and when they'd flirt with me - I mean, like, I wouldn't be rude to them or anything and I was friendly, but I didn't encourage them or ask them out or anything. Although she never said anything (a look was enough), my sister did notice the boxes of Special Fried Rice With Little Prawns And A Bit of Something Else (I never figured out what those little bits were) that Mirko would sometimes give me which split very well between me and her, and the little Kraft honey containers I nabbed at university events he dragged me to. (By the way, I recommend Special Fried Rice subtly microwaved and served with a dash of Berri Squeezed Lemon Juice on tenderly fried fish fingers - usually five - whilst the honey goes very nicely with IGA's White Loaf Special and a hint of margarine.) "I love you, Mirko," I mouthed silently to myself, usually just after I woke up, and just before I went to sleep. He and I were the only people who needed to know. ----------------------- Memory 1 - On The Beach It was a warmish late-winter afternoon when I finished school. I was a man on a mission - or maybe just a boy in a hurry! I ran home as fast as I could, breathlessly turning into my street. Whoo! So much to do, not enough time!!! First, I had to catch my breath, before taking a shower. I got dressed up... damn! My t-shirt's on backwards! OK, once that was fixed, took a moment on the balcony and lit up a smoke. Ahhhhhhh. Fixed a dinner for my as-yet-absent sister, and I was off. I ran for the bus, deciding the train would take too long, and headed for Westfield Carousel, the southeast's biggest shopping centre. About one traffic light away, my phone beeped. "hey chris just outside aussie post xxx" I don't think I'd ever been so desperate to find a post office in my life. They should have hired me for ads. Just when I thought all hope was lost I rounded a corner and almost walked right into the post office's door... and Mirko. "Whoa! Careful there!" He laughed and smiled warmly at me. "Haha, um, like, can we, sort of, like, get out of here?" I was keen to not be seen. "By all means!" We headed to his car and before long we were ambling at a nerve-grindingly slow pace through peak hour traffic up the highway. I didn't care, though. We talked about school and his uni and the stupidity of peak hour drivers who change lane into a faster one only to come to a stop a few cars ahead and get passed by the ones formerly behind them. I never knew where we were going to go on these car journeys but I trusted Mirko and I'd never had cause to complain about his choice of destinations. Today was no exception, as we pulled into the carpark of a beach, seemingly far away from anyone and anywhere. Despite being a crisp, fine day, the beach and carpark were empty. "Care to help me with this?" Mirko was wrestling with a rug in the trunk of his car. "Sure," I said, pretending to misunderstand his question and grabbing the sides of his pants as if to pull them down. "NO! Later! This!" He pointed to the rug, trying not to drop it or to laugh. I swept up the rolled-up rug over one arm, almost managing to balance it on my shoulder before Mirko ran over grinning to try and push me. I managed to secure it with my arm as I ran toward the beach to dump my cargo. "I will so get you back for that!" I shouted. "Promises, promises!" "Yeah, you wait, man." We managed to get it unrolled onto the sand, before going back to the car to grab Cokes and sandwiches from Mirko's Esky. Finally, he locked up the car and we fell down onto the rug. No sooner had I done so, than Mirko in a single, tidy manoeuvre jumped sideways and flipped over, landing face-down on me and staring straight into my eyes. "Umm, you rang?" he said cheekily. "Mmm... I'll have one of those with fries," I replied. He smiled softly at me. "You're so awesome, Chris." "So are you, mate." That served as sufficient introduction for him to start one of our epic, passionate tongue-filled kisses that had not that long before seemed so new and different, but were still just as exciting and enjoyable as always. I lost track of time, I didn't CARE. "Mmm, I'm hungry," he said, as he slid off me and grabbed at the glad-wrapped sandwiches, throwing me one. "I've got a few so, like, if you're not full after that, just ask!" I wondered at that moment as I tucked into my sandwich what it would be like to feed Mirko a fish finger. I don't know why, it was such an odd and random thing to want to do, but it just seemed to fit the occasion - despite the lack of fish fingers anywhere. It wasn't long before the sun began to set, and Mirko turned around and snuggled up to me as we lay there watching the waves lapping the beach as the sun melted into the deep blue beyond the horizon. Nothing needed to be said or done, we both felt it. Mirko broke the silence only after the last of the sun was gone. "Our first sunset, hey." "That was awesome, man." "I know! I can't believe I'm here with you like this. It's just...incredible." I whispered, "Love you." "Awwwwww! I love you too." He leaned over and kissed my neck. I lost track of the time as we gently made out on the beach, but it was a pitch black sky that farewelled us when we finally called it a night, rolled up the rug, packed up the car and headed in the direction of home. "You like fish fingers, mate?" I asked as the street lights of Perth and its emptied suburbs sped by. "Don't know, to be honest!" "I should make you some." "Yeah. That would be cool." "I'll have to show you how to eat them, though. There's an... art to it." Mirko took his hand off the gearstick to mess up my hair and stroke my face. "God, you're cute." ----------------------- Memory 2 - In Your Kitchen Mirko was trying not to laugh. I'd given up trying - I was doubled over helplessly. "Oh... my... GOD. Um, I think we'll ditch the eggs." "Hell, yeah," I managed in between gasps and giggles as the smoke poured out of the pan from the discoloured bubbling masses, which had definitely lost any of their nutritional value as they inexplicably caught fire and then turned into little rising columns of feral-smelling smoke after barely 45 seconds of cooking. "Phwoar! That just reeks, eh?" I said. "Oh, shit, I'd so better fix this." Mirko smiled at me, but that was too much for him and he burst out laughing too. "Stop it, Chris!!" "I can't!" Mirko pulled me in for a snuggle as we both tried to recover. After dousing the pan in water, producing high-pitched wheezing and popping from the pan, and more stifled giggles from us, he walked over to the fridge and picked up the egg carton. "Oh my God! No wonder. What the HELL?" he said as he pointed to the expiry date. It would be fair to say they were non-current - RATHER non-current. "Yeah, man, these aren't eggs. They're smoke bombs." Mirko handled the egg carton like one might handle soiled underwear, wincing and bracing as he ran outside into the heavy rain and threw the carton in its entirety into the big Sulo bin. He shuddered and shook his hands and arms several times. "Eugh! I feel unclean!" "Mirko, they're EGGS." He shook his head and stared at me as if I'd just said the earth was flat, then disappeared into the bathroom for several minutes. I found his delicacy about seriously-off eggs hilarious even if it added to his cuteness - I didn't see anything wrong with getting my hands dirty, and scratched and scrubbed the pan until what had been the eggs had been fully removed. I was pretty proud of my efforts. That episode resolved, a change of plans was resolved. "Hey, Chris, fancy a stir-fry?" "I don't know how to make that." "You will! I'll show you." Within a couple of minutes, we had hauled out two big chopping boards and laid into chopping up carrots, onions, potatoes, cauliflower, capsicum, mushrooms and Chinese cabbage. Mirko showed me how to chop big carrots without cutting myself, and kept telling me how great I was doing. Finally, we had neat little piles in plates of various different vegies. "So, like, do we, like, mix them together or what?" "No, some of them have to go in first and then a few you put in almost right at the end when it's all going happily... Let's take the carrots and onions over, shall we?" Mirko smiled at me, then got behind me and snuggled me from behind. I closed my eyes and melted back into him. Whee. "Um... Chris?" He spoke gently into my ear. "Mmmm?" "Well, two things." "What?" "First is I love you." "Awww." "Second is... the carrots? the onions?" I picked up the two little plates and as I did so, I felt Mirko turn me around and walk me forward towards the freshly scrubbed pot. "Chris, is there, like, ANY egg left in that?" "No, I scrubbed it heaps and heated up washing up liquid in it." "OK, cool." His right hand let go of me and reached for the olive oil, squirting it in. "Now, DUMP!" I threw both plates' contents into the pot. He grabbed my right hand, initially stopping to massage it and draw circles on the back of it, before reaching (with my hand) for a wooden spoon. It was so weird stirring stuff with someone holding my hand and snuggling, but I got used to it. It was nice! We then walked over to the fridge, and Mirko asked me to grab the chopped stir fry meat. That got thrown in and stirred too. About 20 minutes later, everything including the sauce was in, and we put the lid on. "Hmm, I know what this is missing," Mirko said. "What?" I asked, looking around at him. He softly gazed at me and stroked my face. "This," he said, coming in for a kiss. As he went in, he held my head firmly yet tenderly and our eyes met each other. Haha, I wish every dinner time was like this!! "OK, better finish this," he said, reluctantly pulling away, still gazing into my eyes and holding my hands. "You rock, Mirko," I said softly. He smiled and winked. Mirko wandered off to get the noodles happening, while I unlidded the pan to keep stirring it. It was none the worse for our distraction. ... "OK, so you take THIS spoon, and I'll take THAT spoon," he gushed, as he handed me a big ladle. We took turns scooping out the stir fry into our plates, with him leading. We laughed a few times at how silly we were being, but damn it was fun!! "Mmm, want to taste this to make sure it's OK, Chris?" I had no sooner turned my head than a little spoon of steaming hot stir fry was heading in the general direction of my mouth. I took the spoon in my mouth, cheekily pretending to blow it off and even managing a fake moan. Mirko burst out laughing. "Oh my God, Chris, you make even taste-testing hot!" I laughed and hugged him. "You think everything I do is hot, though." "Yeah, because you're hot! And cute. And sweet. And lovable." I looked into his eyes. "You're all of those things too." "Awwww! See?" He stroked my face tenderly and I closed my eyes. He snapped me out of my dreamy daze. "Din-dins!!" He tapped his plate with a fork. We sat down to eat, being really silly (considering we were 16 and 19!!) by slurping our noodles, occasionally rolling them up on a fork and feeding them to each other. This meal was really nice!! I mentally noted the method and ingredients and committed to write it down later, although I wondered if the meal could actually be made by one person, given how closely we had been entangled while making it. Mirko's and Crispy's Sweet and Sour Stir Fry with Hokkien Noodles was soon consumed, with enough left in the pot that his sister and her son would have a ready dinner. "I love you, Chris," he said as he led me into his bedroom for one last snuggle before we had to leave so he could drive me to the train station for my journey home. "Love you too, Mirko, mate," I replied. ----------------------- Short but sweet. Hope you liked reliving my memories with me!!