Date: Fri, 9 Feb 2024 02:00:00 -0700
From: John Henry <niftyjhenry1988.2@gmail.com>
Subject: Wish You Were My Dad Chapter 21 (Gay/Adult Youth)

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Chapter 21


The next couple of weeks were torture. I could barely eat, I could hardly
sleep and I certainly wasn't talking to Mom. I would wake up, go to
school, come home and go straight to my room. At first, Mom was pretty
pissed at me. It got to the point where she would yell through my door or
even try to stop me from hiding out. In those moments, I'd sit down, not
say a word or look at her. She took me from the man I loved, and I wasn't
going to give in to her self-righteous behavior and demands. Eventually,
she gave up and started to ignore me, which was fine by me.


Dylan held strong though. Whenever we passed each other, I'd try to make
eye contact or say something, but he looked right through me. At first I
was mad at him, too, but he explained via text that he knew Mom had her
friends keeping an eye on him and couldn't risk one of them saying
something or taking matters into their own hands and calling the cops.
All of that made me even more angry with Mom.


School was horrible, as well. I couldn't concentrate and my grades were
slipping. At one point, I was pulled aside by my math teacher as I was
leaving class. He asked me how everything was at home and didn't seem to
believe me when I told him everything was fine. Of course, my morose
demeanor was probably a clue.


I think the nights that were the worst were the ones when Mom was at
work. I had literally hours alone and wanted desperately to sneak over to
see and hold Dylan. Instead, we talked on the phone or video chatted when
Tiffany was either asleep or with Dylan's parents. We would take our
clothes off and pretend we were laying next to each other. I would admire
his sexy form as he slowly stroked himself. I, of course, did the same,
obeying whatever command he gave me. Every time he came, I wanted to rush
over and taste him, which then caused me to cum. We'd then spend the next
couple of hours talking.


One evening, I needed to do laundry, so I gathered my things and went to
the little laundromat on the bottom floor. It contained three washers and
three dryers. Most people just went to the large laundromat up the road,
but they drove and had a lot more to do than I did. The place was empty,
though one of the washers was running.


As I loaded my machine, I heard the door open and nearly passed out as
Dylan came in. He looked just as shocked as I was but soon recovered with
one of his most beautiful smiles.


"Hey," he said softly. I checked to see if the coast was clear before
closing the door.


I didn't say a word as I flung myself into his arms. I buried my face in
his chest and cried. All the pent-up tension in my body vanished as I
felt his arms wrap around me. His scent made my heart swell. I looked up
at him and saw a few tears of his own welling up. "I've missed you so
much," I gasped.


"Me too, Baby. Me too." He tilted his head down and we kissed. I never
wanted it to stop.


"I was thinking that I could tell Mom that I'm staying the night at a
friend's house, and we could meet up somewhere."


"What if your mom decides to call your friend's parents?"


"She wouldn't."


"You don't know she wouldn't, Baby, and we can't take that risk. This
right now is risky enough."


"But I miss you," I cried. Dylan wiped my face and kissed my forehead.


"I miss you, too, but we have to be smart about this. Once she's had
time to cool down and everything gets mellow again, we can try to hang
out."


"What if she never cools down? I can't wait that long."


"Do you love me?"


"More than anything!"


"Do you trust me?"


"Of course, I trust you, Daddy."


"Then you need to do as I ask, okay? I know it's painful, but we have to
be smart about this." He leaned his head in and kissed me once more.
Tears streamed down my face, and I think one or two of his fell, too.


We broke apart quickly as the laundry door opened. Monica, one of our
neighbors and Mom's friend, poked her head in. She was carrying an empty
laundry basket. Her expression changed from shock to anger. "I hope I'm
not disturbing anything," she snarled, clearly hoping to be disturbing
something.


"No," I said, all too aware of my wet face. However, her eyes were on
Dylan.


"I was just going," he said, trying to walk passed her.


She barely moved out of his way, and once he was gone, she looked at me
and said, "You need to stay away from him."


"You're not my mom," I snapped back. "You don't get to tell me what to
do."


"Oh yeah? I wonder what your mom will have to say about it."


"Hopefully, she'll tell you to mind your own fucking business and stop
being a nosy bitch."


"What the fuck did you just say to me?!"


"Did I stutter? Everyone knows that you bitches hate anything with a
penis, even your own kids, so how about you worry about yourselves
instead of getting all up in my business!" Needless to say, I was
pissed. I shoved passed Monica and went to my room. I had little doubt
that she was blowing up Mom's phone, but I didn't care. I was tired of
being treated like a little kid.


Unfortunately, Mom wasn't the only person Monica contacted. I was already
asleep when everything went down. Apparently, Monica waited for Mom to
get off work and told her that she caught Dylan and I making out. Since
there were no windows to the laundry room, I knew it was complete
bullshit, but Mom bought the story.


Mom called the police who came to Monica's to get her story. Once the
police saw the laundry room, they figured Monica was lying but still had
to question Dylan. Dylan told the police that there was nothing perverted
going on between him and I, and that Monica had been stalking and
harassing him after he kept rejecting her and was forced to out himself
to further drive home the point.


I was woken up by Mom and told to get my ass to the living room. Two cops
were there, along with Mom and Monica. I knew instantly what was going
on. The police were clearly annoyed by the whole thing, but I was pissed.
I answered all their questions, defending Dylan at all cost. I told them
that Dylan did hug me because I was upset that my overly jealous and
protective mother forbid me from seeing him. When asked why I wasn't
allowed to see Dylan, I said, "Because she's never liked any guy who
treats me like a human being. She's jealous that Dylan won't go out with
her."


"I am not jealous!" Mom snarled. "I think it's inappropriate for a man
his age to be hanging out with a kid."


"That's funny, because you've let me stay the night with him several
times in the last few months, let me babysit his daughter and didn't
complain about him throwing me a birthday party. As for Monica, she's
nothing more than a bike."


"A bike?" Monica laughed.


"Yeah, you just sit around waiting for someone to ride you." That's
when Mom slapped me. I didn't even have time to react before one of the
officers ordered Mom and Monica out of the apartment. I was shaking with
anger and pent-up rage. Mom had never struck me before, and I didn't know
how to react.


The remaining officer asked, "Are you okay?"


My face hurt, but I couldn't really feel it at the time. Emotionally, I
was a wreck. The man I loved was being accused of molesting me (though
technically true, I fully consented to everything), and my mother was
behaving like someone I had never met before. "I don't know," was all I
could say. Tears welled up and all I wanted was to be held by Dylan and
tell him how sorry I was for getting him mixed up in my fucked up life.
Then it dawned on me that Dylan might never want to see me after all
this. My heart shattered and my knees buckled. I let out a shriek of
agony that matched my pain.


"Hey," the officer said. I squatted next to me and said, "You're going
to be alright. Is there somewhere you can go tonight? Any family I can
take you to?" I only shook my head. I was finding it hard to breathe,
let alone talk. The cop said, "Alright. I want you to go to your room
and pack a bag; just some things for a night or two. Can you do that for
me?"


I stood and went to my room. I grabbed my phone and saw no texts or
voicemails. I threw it, some clothes and my school stuff into my
backpack. Luckily, I gave back Dylan's underwear a while ago, so there
was no evidence in my room. As I collected my belongings, I collected
myself. I told myself that Dylan probably hadn't messaged because the
police still might be at his place. I couldn't blame him for being scared
after what Mom and that bitch, Monica, accused him of.


"Where are you taking me?" I asked, once I was ready to leave.


"Somewhere safe until everything calms down," he said. "Though your
mom has the right to hit you in this state, after everything tonight, I
think you two need a break." I nodded, despite not really getting an
answer. The officer got on his radio and talked to his partner, who was
still with Mom and Monica. "Ready?"


"I guess," I replied.


We walked out of the apartment and two more cops had arrived. Mom and
Monica were in the parking lot talking to the new arrivals. I was
escorted passed them, and was told not to say anything. When we got to
the cop's car, I was placed in the back without handcuffs. I took a
second to look up at Dylan's apartment and didn't see him. I was hoping
to at least get some sort of sign that he was okay.


"I'm Officer Rafferty, by the way," he said once behind the wheel.
"I'm taking you to my place for the night. If you need more than just
one night, we'll have to discuss options."


"Your place?" I asked. I had seen enough porn and horror movies to make
my head start to question reality.


"Yeah. My son, Craig, is at college, so it's just me and my wife, Ann.
You'll be in Craig's room. It's either that or put you in a shelter for
street kids, and I can tell you that my place is the better option."


"Thanks."


"Does your mom hit you a lot?"


"Never until tonight."


"You can tell me the truth, Michael. She can't hurt you anymore."


"I'm telling the truth. She's never even spanked me as a little kid."


"Alright, I believe you." I don't think he actually did, but he
probably assumed there was no point pushing the issue, as he dropped the
subject.


I could see Mom constantly glancing my way. Her face was no longer stern
and angry but scared and concerned. A part of me wanted to tell her I was
okay but another wanted to tell her to fuck off. I don't think I had ever
been so mad at her in my entire life...but she was still my mom and only
parent.


Once Officer Rafferty's partner got back in the car, we drove clear
across town. About 40 minutes later, we pulled up to a rather nice house
in one of the more upper-middle class neighborhoods. Officer Rafferty and
I got out of the car, and his partner got behind the wheel and pulled out
of the driveway.


"Are you going back to work?" I asked, confused.


"You were my last call of the night. I was actually supposed to be off
work an hour ago."


We walked up a nice path to the door. It only dawned on me that I was
only wearing my pajamas. I felt self-conscious, going into a stranger's
house, completely under dressed. He opened the door and we were greeted
by two fluff balls.


"Mixie and Pixie," he explained as we shoved the two huskies out of the
way. "I hope you like dogs."


"I do," I said. I was more of a cat person, but I love animals all the
same. I closed the door and was instantly knocked down by over 100 pounds
of fur, being licked all over.


"Who's your friend?" A woman asked from nearby.


Officer Rafferty explained the situation to his wife as I fought my way
out of my predicament. Mrs. Rafferty said something in a different
language (I think German) and the dogs backed off immediately. "Come on,
I'll show you to your room," he said.


The room was much nicer and cleaner than mine. It was clear that the
Raffertys had money, since their son had a TV and new computer in his
room. It was also clear that their son was a jock and straight, given all
the posters of half-naked women pinned to the walls.


"The bathroom is next door. Feel free to sleep in if you want. I go back
to work at 3, and we can call your mom before I leave."


"Thanks," I said, as he closed the door behind him. I sat on the bed
and rummaged through my bag for my phone. It was two in the morning, and
there was no message from Dylan. My heart raced as my anxiety came back.
I wanted to contact him but I was scared. After several minutes, I
decided that I had to send him a text. It seemed to me that it might be
weird if I didn't say anything to him, especially after telling the cops
that there was nothing between us, aside from friendship.


"I'm sorry. I hope you're not mad at me." I wanted to tell him how much
I loved him and that I didn't rat him out, but that would definitely be
suspect. I laid down on the bed, fully aware how much more comfortable it
was than mine. I wasn't expecting anything from Dylan, to be honest, but
after a minute, my phone buzzed. Dylan sent me a thumbs up emoji. I was
both hurt and relieved. At least he messaged me back, I thought. I set
the phone down on a night stand and got under the blankets.


As I pulled the sheets back, a magazine hit the floor. I picked it up and
was shocked to see a gay porno mag. Maybe this place wasn't going to be
so bad after all, I thought as I opened the pages.


***Coming Soon, Chapter 22***