Date: Thu, 29 Jan 2009 16:01:21 +0900
From: Crispy Toast <crispie@fastmail.fm>
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!!