Walking down the street, hand in hand, Timothy and I couldn’t go one minute without getting at least one stare. Some were envious. Some disgusted. Some admiring. Whatever the look meant, we didn’t care.
It wasn’t anything like PDA, but it was still disturbing the fucking homophobes in this town.
“Danny? Can we go to the bookstore? There is this book I really want.” Timothy’s voice was like music to my heart…
I squeezed his hand lightly. “Of course, Katsumi.”
He blushed. “Thank you, Danny!”
I pulled him into a big hug. “No problem.”
“Let’s go!” he said grabbing my hand and running ahead. Could he get any cuter?
After arriving at the bookstore, I sat in the chair and started to think. I thought about how Timothy shined without his shyness. He knew piano and he could write songs, for christsake.
Timothy looked over at me. “Danny? We can go if you want.”
Keeping my train of thought I answered him. “No, go ahead and get your book, hun.”
Timothy turned his head and sat on my lap. “Danny, what’s wrong? You look so sad…”
No…Gosh I can’t resist myself when he is this close to my face. “I-I’m fine.”
He grabbed my hand. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.” I pulled him into a kiss. His lips were so soft. I wanted to slip my tongue into his mouth…But, he doesn’t like kissing so much in public. I pulled away.
Timothy’s face was all red. “G-Good. Um…I’m ready to go, if you are…”
“I’m ready whenever you are, baby.”
His heart was beating fast and I could tell. He tugged on my hand as we left the bookstore. “So, what should we do next?”
“We could hang at my place. My grandmother likes you so, you could stay over.”
He thought for a second. “Okay!”
I picked him up and carried him like a baby. “Is this okay?”
Wrapping his arms around my neck he replied “Yes.”
I smiled and walked home. Carrying my boy. My Timothy Katsumi Anderson.
I walked into the house and put Timothy on the couch. I closed the door. “Grandma? Grandpa? Are you home?” No reply. “Timothy, baby, gimme a sec, okay?”
He nodded his head. “Okay.”
I kissed his head and walked upstairs.
When I got upstairs I couldn’t hear anything. I went into all of the rooms and no sign of them anywhere. So I walked down the stairs and Timothy was reading. Of course. That little book worm. I came up behind him.
“Guess who?”
Timothy giggled. “Um…Danny?”
“How did you know?” I walked around the couch and laid down.
Not too long afterwards, Timothy was laying on me, asleep. I pulled him up to me so I could feel his breathing on my neck. It sent shivers down my spine. But they were good shivers.
He finally woke up. “D-Danny? Did I make my way up here? I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I put you up here. This may sound weird, but I like watching you sleep.”
“No,” he said yawning a little, “it’s not weird.”
“Good.” I kissed him. I swear, every time I kiss him I could just die. He made me feel THAT great.
Kissing back, Timothy started to pull away a little bit.
I stopped. “Timothy? Is my kissing you bothering you?”
Timothy looked shocked. “No! I just…don’t like being on top of you…I feel insecure as it is >_<.”
“Okay.” I took him off of me and got up. He laid down and I got on top of him. “Better?”
He smiled. “Yes.”
I slowly started kissing his lips and moved to his cheek, then to his neck.
Timothy wimpered a little. I mean, DAMN. He knew how to turn me on…
The doorbell rang. Shit. I gave Timothy an apology look. He just giggled and looked at the door.
I got off and answered the door. It was my grandmother. “I’m home, Danny!” She kissed my cheek. “How was your day?” She peeked around my neck. “Hi Timothy!”
Timothy giggled and waved at her. “Hi, Maria!” I really like how well they get along. Timothy got up.
“Timothy, what is that red blotch on your neck?”
He turned a really light red. “Um…mosquito bite?”
“Oh, you poor thing. Does it itch?”
“N-No…It doesn’t really feel like anything.”
I gave him a hickey. Haha. Poor babe.
“Alright, well if it gets to itching, just tell me.” She shut the door behind her, sat on the couch, and turned on the TV.
“Grandma, we are going up to my room…by the way, where is Grandpa?”
She looked at me coldly. “He is ‘working’.”
I looked at her. “Oh…okay…” And I went upstairs with Timothy following close behind.