Chapter Nine:

"Gavin, wake up," I heard Michael whisper to me.
I groaned and rolled over, muttering a 'Go to hell' under my breath. Why did I let him sleep in the bed with me?
"Come on, Gavin, please. I really want to do something," Michael said. I could almost hear the desperation in his voice.
"Michael, I told you, I'm not having sex with you. Not now, perhaps even not ever," I growled at him.
"That's not what I'm talking about," Michael said.
I opened my eyes and turned over onto my side, glaring at him. To my surprise, he was already dressed and showered, despite the fact that it was still dark out.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"I want to take you and the boys out to breakfast," Michael told me. I glanced over at the clock.
"At six in the morning? No. You're never gonna get the boys up," I muttered, turning back over and closing my eyes to go back to sleep.
"Dad, get the fuck up. I want to get pancakes!" Banjo yelled at me.
I blinked open my eyes, realizing what Michael did.
"No, Michael. We're not going there," I growled.
"Why not?" Michael asked.
"It's incredibly overpriced and the boys won't even eat it all," I told him.
"Yes I will!" Banjo called in again.
"Come on, Gav. I don't care if it is. Please," Michael asked.
I looked over at him again, seeing him giving me his pleading look. I looked behind him at Banjo who was also already dressed and nearly bouncing off the walls.
He's using the boys against me.
"Fine, Michael. I don't care," I growled.
It wasn't the answer he wanted but he smiled nevertheless. I got up and crossed my arms over my chest to keep some of the sleepy warmth locked onto my body. I went into the bathroom and took a shower, slowly getting around since I knew it would piss Michael off.
Once the clock turned over to seven, I heard a frantic knocking on the bathroom door. I rolled my eyes, getting ready to tell Michael off. I opened the door and found Banjo standing there, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Are you ready yet?" He asked excitedly. I rolled my eyes at him and walked past him, grabbing my wallet and phone.
I followed Banjo out of the room and downstairs. I saw Oliver standing by the door with his phone and headphones in. He looked about as exhausted as I felt and I almost offered him to stay back with me so we could do something else later.
However, I wasn't given the chance when Michael came down the stairs as well and ushered everyone out the door.
I bitterly slid into the front seat next to Michael. I pulled my seatbelt on and crossed my arms tightly, gripping onto my phone. I made it very obvious that I didn't want to be there and I wouldn't want to be there for the hour long ride to the place Michael had in mind.
Banjo sat in the back with one headphone in, talking excitedly with Michael about anything that came to mind. I couldn't help but be proud of how well Banjo changed. I remembered when he was Oliver's age and how antisocial he was. He shut everyone out every chance he got and he was a very annoyed and angry person, just like his father. Now, you couldn't even see a trace of that person in him. He was always happy as far as I could see. He was always jumping around and talking, having fun and being the kid I always wanted to be when I was his age. He played plenty of sports and made in reputation known in high school.
He had a pretty nice life.
Of course, it hadn't always been like that, but that was a story for another time.
Oliver on the other hand reminded me a lot of myself at his age. Which was neither good or bad. He was very quiet and short with his words, which made me wonder what was bothering him. He worried a bit too much on how he looked or how he came off to people. He also worried way too much about his grades.
However, all of those could either end up benefitting him, or destroying him in the future.
Knowing how Oliver worked, I knew he was expecting to get into an Ivy League college. I remembered a time when he was just seven years old when he came up to Michael and I and confessed that dream of his. Afterwards, Michael and I made sure to lay down more than enough money for that dream to come to true. We were still about ten thousand dollars short but we had plenty of time to earn that money for Oliver.
I looked back at Oliver and observed him. He was acting way too much like me at his age. And the reason that worried me so much was because when I was his age, that was when I started cutting and contemplating suicide.
I always tried to push the thought of Oliver potentially being depressed from my mind. I didn't want to think about it. It would be entirely my fault if he were depressed due to my bad genes. And I wouldn't be able to live with the thought that I gave my one and only son depression.
"Dad, what the fuck are you doing?" Banjo asked, giggling.
I quickly blinked out of my trance. Oliver was looking at me worriedly and Michael was giving me concerned glances. I shook my head and faked a yawn.
"Just tired. Sorry," I said.
Banjo and Oliver bought it and resumed whatever they were doing. Michael however knew me better and gave me a few more concerned looks which I returned with a glare.
Banjo continued talking on and on and on about things I could care less about. But since I was a semi-good father I listened, along with Michael. I knew Michael could care less as well but he made an effort to respond to Banjo's stupid questions and complaints.
As much as I wasn't enjoying Michael, I still had to admit he was a very good father. He was never not there for them. He went to every game for Banjo, and every awards ceremony for Oliver. He listened to them when they needed help, often helping them with homework when they were younger, even when he didn't understand it.
I remembered what he did for Oliver the night before his first regents exam. Oliver was stressing out to the point of tears and Michael had literally forced him to stop studying. He grabbed Oliver, pulled him over to the recliner, and held him like he was a little baby again. It was enough to make me cry, and Oliver had continued to sob and mutter out his frustrations to Michael. But, Michael did make Oliver feel better and Oliver eventually calmed down enough to fall asleep. He ended up acing his regents, getting a ninety eight on the entire test and creating a new school record.
I sighed and leaned back in my seat. If I were half the father Michael was, the boys would probably love me more.
I sat out the remainder of the car ride. I didn't talk anymore than I needed to. My drowsiness lingered and I forced myself to keep my eyes opened, reminding myself that we weren't that far away from the restaurant.
Eventually, keeping my eyes open become too much of a chore and I succumbed to sleep.

I felt a pair of wet lips kiss my cheek and I immediately blinked my eyes open.
I instantly backed away from Michael, glaring at him. How dare he catch me off guard like that? Does he think it's going to make me love him again?
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," Michael apologized, completely oblivious to what I was upset about.
"How dare you Michael? How dare you catch me while my guard is down? God, this is why I can't trust you," I growled, unbuckling my seat belt and shoving past Michael.
"What? All I did was kiss your cheek. It wasn't like I groped you or anything," Michael said, obviously offended by my tone.
"Right. And I'm sure you thought of doing so, hm?" I asked, crossing my arms and turning around to face him.
"What the hell is your problem, Gavin? I'm trying to be a sweet and nice as can be and you're rejecting every attempt of affection I make towards you. I'm sorry that I'm trying and you're-," Michael said before I cut him off.
"Don't you dare finish that sentence," I growled.
Michael shut his mouth and glared at me back. Honesty, to a bystander we probably looked like two young siblings fighting over something stupid. And perhaps that's what we were doing. But I wasn't letting Michael get on my good side that easily.
"Look, I had Banjo and Oliver go in before us and scope out the place and Banjo told me there's a group of teenagers that recognized him. So, can you at least act like you love me for them so nobody's making up crazy rumors about us again," Michael asked me.
His words hurt slightly and I knew that's what he was trying to accomplish. Make me feel guilty. And, unfortunately, it was working very well.
But my stubborn side still screamed at me to ignore any possible affection, even if it was fake.
Eventually, I came to a logical conclusion and I sighed.
"You can put your arm around me and that's it. Nothing more," I growled. Michael nodded and lead me inside.
The line was long, just as I imagined it'd be. However, if we got here any later, it'd probably be twice as long. Michael and I joined Banjo and Oliver in line and I immediately spotted the group of teenagers Banjo was talking about. Michael put his arm around me, like I knew he would, and squeezed my side gently like he used to always do.
It felt foreign to me.
After standing in line for fifteen minutes, we were finally seated. Banjo was literally bouncing in his seat and Oliver was quickly reading over the menu, his eyes lighting up when he saw something he liked.
Michael, on the other hand, stared at me. It was a little strange and creepy and perhaps even stalker like. I looked back at the group of teenagers however they weren't in a table where they could see us.
I finally met eyes with Michael and gave him an angry questioning look. He kept the blank stare even after I started looking at him.
I was beginning to wonder if he was okay when he suddenly mouthed me something.
I love you so much... Please forgive me.
I glared at him again and turned my head.
The waiter took our orders and walked away. Banjo was still bouncing with anticipation as he waited for his food and Oliver sipped slowly at his drink. Michael tapped his fingers impatiently before stopping and looking at both of the boys.
"Are you two going to the homecoming dance?" Michael asked.
I completely forgot about the dance. I knew Banjo probably didn't want to go but knowing Kazooie, she's probably forcing him to go. Then there was Oliver. He couldn't go with Cree since Cree was still a middle schooler. And as far as I know, Oliver didn't have any good friends yet.
"Kazooie's making me go," Banjo said, stopping his bouncing to answer his father.
"Somebody asked me to go," Oliver said.
Michael, Banjo, and I all turned our heads simultaneously to Oliver. Oliver looked up and blinked in confusion, leaning back a little more into his chair.
"Who asked you?" I asked.
"Um... A girl," Oliver said nervously.
"No, shit, Oliver. Like who?" Banjo said.
"You wouldn't know her. Just forget about it," Oliver said.
I watched him in confusion. Oliver was acting very strange about this. I didn't think he'd actually end up going to the dance.
"Can we meet her?" Michael asked.
Oliver instantly whipped his head up and shook his head. That was like the icing on the cake. Something was up with him.
"Daddy, stop. Do you realize how embarrassing that'd be?" Banjo said.
"Yeah. That's the point. I didn't have kids because I wanted to raise them and be a dad. I had kids to embarrass them every chance I got," Michael said, smirking and laughing when Banjo kicked him.
The food eventually came and I purposely ate it as quickly as possible. Just like I figured, Oliver barely ate his and Banjo only ate about half. Michael couldn't even eat all his and I gave him a pointed glare to signify my anger towards him.
Michael paid for the meal and we left shortly after. Banjo ran to the car, asking if he could drive to which Michael told him no and pointed to the back. Banjo slumped into the back, scowling and crossing his arms before reaching forward and grabbing the aux chord and putting on his music.
So the entire ride back to the house, Green Day blasted from the speakers, giving me a major headache. Michael seemed okay with Banjo blasting his speakers with Green Day. Of course he'd be okay with it... It was his favorite band after all.
When we finally got back, I immediately went back upstairs to get a few more hours of sleep. I slipped out of my clothes and pulled on some more comfortable clothes before sliding back into bed and curling up.
"Gav?" Michael asked.
I didn't say anything.
"Gavin, can you please talk to me?" Michael asked.
I still didn't say anything.
I heard the floor creak as Michael walked across the room and over to our bed. I curled up tighter, pulling the covers over my head. Michael sat on the bed and turned towards me.
Then, he started tickling me.
I immediately started giggling, feeling giddy. I wished I could stop laughing. I wish I had the power to get away and yell at Michael for doing this.
But all I could do is laugh.
When he stopped, I pushed the covers off my head and tried to catch my breath, letting little giggles squeak past. Michael was smiling at me and I realized his hands still rested gently on my sides.
And the feeling was slowly getting to me.
I stared into Michael's eyes. I felt my heart begin to beat faster and I began to fear what I would possibly do.
But eventually, I decided that I'd tortured Michael long enough.
I grabbed Michael's shirt and pulled him down. I let his lips graze mine for a moment before I pressed them gently against his. They were soft and sweet, like I remembered. But at the same time, I felt an awkward excitement coarse through me, like I was kissing Michael for the first time again.
Eventually, the kiss became more insistent. It became heated and I began to grip onto Michael's back as he gently lowered himself over my body. He rubbed my cheeks with his thumbs while he kissed me and eventually he pulled away.
"What?" I asked, feeling dizzy with pleasure.
"Why are you letting me kiss you?" Michael asked.
I didn't have an answer for him. I truly didn't. And perhaps it was because I didn't have an answer for myself either.
"Just... Let me enjoy this before I regret it," I muttered, pressing my lips back against Michael's hungrily.
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It seriously feels like forever since I've written and posted anything (probably cause it has been forever). Lately, I've been dealing with a lot so my love and enthusiasm for writing has been set aside. But, I'm really trying to get back into it at the wishes of my English teacher. So hopefully I'll try to get back into writing.
Let me know how I'm doing. My English teacher gave me some tips for writing so those'll hopefully make my writing flow and seem more realistic.
Thanks for reading!