Date: Sun, 27 Feb 2000 12:20:05 -0500 (EST)
From: David Lemmaire <lemmaire@email.com>
Subject: "Darien's Tears" (6/6) (t/t, inc, anal)

DARIEN'S TEARS (t/t, inc, anal)
by Lemmaire

(Part 6 of 6)

The next two weeks with Darien were the most wonderful days of my life.

We spent every minute together -- days full of exploring and adventure,
seeing my familiar California through Darrie's brand new, always-amazed,
soft and dancing eyes.

"You are so lucky you live here," he'd say repeatedly, at every new place
I took him to.

"You live here, too," I'd remind him.

"For a while," he'd shrug sadly.

The words would hang softly and silently between us -- each of us mourning
a little more in our hearts as the days raced by -- because we knew our
time together would be so brief.

Back in Massachusetts, Darien's parents -- my aunt and uncle -- were
moving full speed ahead with their divorce.  There were more sad phone
calls from Darrie's mom...more sad tears from Darien, private and hidden,
down in the basement, where no one would see them but me.

It was a difficult time, feeling all of those emotions at once.  The joy
of having him near me...the love I felt when we held each other and kissed
at night...the secret danger and forbidden excitement of loving each other
physically, night after night, while the rest of the household was
sleeping.  Those were the good things.

But there were bad things, too.  Knowing we were cousins...knowing he'd
have to go home eventually...knowing no matter how much we loved each
other, we lived in a world that wouldn't see it for what it really was.
Our secret relationship weighed heavily on our souls that summer.  It was
so good and right.  We loved every second.  But it was also so impossible.
We knew that whoever gave us each other, wouldn't be able to give us
forever.  It filled our days...every single happy one...with unspoken
darkness, and tears that we both shared, thinking about how it would end.

But we were determined to make the best of it.  We captured California and
wouldn't let it go...daring the future, with fierce defiance, to try to
ruin our perfect days.

Our lives, for those two wonderful weeks, were amazing.

We saw everything -- or at least as much as my mom's budget and tour-guide
patience would allow.

We went to Hermosa Beach and walked along the ocean together while Mom and
The Beast went shopping.  We wandered our way through sand and waves,
brave enough to hold hands because no one was watching.  And even if they
were, we really didn't care.

We played video games at the mall, took a trip to the Santa Ana
River...almost fell asleep standing up at the Irvine Fine Arts Center...my
mom's idea of a cultural treat.

We had dinner at Medieval Times...imitated the jousters in the parking
lot, goosing my mom in the ass with our souvenir flags.

We tried on hats at Cactus Jacks, and walked around the store, swaggering
like cowboys while Mom looked for boots for The Beast.  Her dance class
was doing some western program in the fall.  Don't ask me what cowboy
boots have to do with ballet, but when Mom shops for The Beast, it's
better not to ask questions.

There was Chinese food in Buena Park...spaghetti in Fullerton...then big,
greasy burgers at the Hard Rock in Newport Beach.  We even stopped in a
Starbucks, just to feel like we were old and chic.  We both had some mocha
icy crap...and it tasted so gross we dumped it in the plants outside.

"Remind me not to order that again," Darien grimaced, cramming a muffin in
his mouth to get rid of the taste.

I grabbed half the muffin from him and did the same.  "Definitely."

Lovers.  Brothers.  Physically bonded.  We just weren't ready for coffee
yet.

And finally, of course, we took him to Disneyland.

That was Aunt Chelsea's treat.

She sent a little envelope with a nice big check, and a note to Mom
telling her how much she appreciated us giving Darrie a place to stay
while she got her life back in shape.  The note said, "Cash this check and
do a little Disney."  So we did.  And we had a blast.

Darien was hilarious.  He was nervous about everything.

He went on all the rides...but every time the little mini cars would jerk
into action, a look of pure fear would flash across his face.  Just for a
second, of course.  He loved everything, once it got going.  I think the
unknown was what scared him.

"Oh, shit," he muttered under his breath.  "Here we go again..."

I laughed out loud.  We were on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. They built it for
kids about five to eight-years-old.  It's not like we were in any danger
of shooting like missiles out of the park.

"Yep," I grinned.  "This one's intense, all right.  There's some really
scary painted wood figurines that jump out at two miles an hour."

"Very funny, buttwad."

He relaxed, however, and made it through just fine.

Although, quite frankly, he almost shit his pants on Space Mountain.

As the park got darker and the crowds started to thin, we made our way
back through the castle, headed for the shuttle that would take us back to
the parking lot.  Mom and The Beast were a few steps ahead, out of
earshot.

"When you wish upon a star," Darrie sighed wistfully, hearing the song
that looped over and over as we walked across the castle's small
drawbridge.

"Makes no difference who you are," I finished.

But I knew it did.  Darrie knew, too.

Dreams and wishes and Disney don't come true in the real world.

At least they wouldn't this time.
___________________________________________________

That night, we lie in bed, kissing and holding each other.  Darrie started
to cry silently.  I could taste his tears running down his cheeks, onto
his lips.  I kissed them away.  Sweet, sad, salty tears.

"This is all going to end, isn't it?" he sobbed softly, holding onto my
neck.

"I try not to think about it," I answered simply.  "It's been too
beautiful."

He looked at me with his piercing, glistening eyes.  Eyes that knew
everything about me.  Eyes that saw straight through our future, right to
the bottom of my soul.

"I swear, Jared...I'm never going to love anyone like this again.  Never.
There's just no way."

I closed my eyes and I held him to my heart.  He cried...and I cried, too.

"Neither will I, Darrie.  I'll remember this time forever."
___________________________________________________

We made love slowly that night, remembering each touch and each
heart-filled movement.

When I finally entered him and heard his soft sigh, I leaned forward and
kissed him sweetly, rocking us both to a quiet, gentle climax.

We fell asleep, nestled and peaceful, dreaming of a sweet, impossible,
perfect world where wishes upon stars really do come true.
___________________________________________________

"Wake up," Mom said, through the locked bedroom door.  "Aunt Chelsea's on
the phone.  She needs to talk to Darien."

In slow motion, I watched him rise.  He smiled at me weakly, got dressed
and went downstairs.

He didn't say a word.

What was there to say?

We both knew our time had ended.

We'd just learned hello...and now it was already time for goodbye.
___________________________________________________

He came back up to my room.

He closed the door and locked it behind him.

There was silence.  Deep, unending, clock-ticking silence all around us.

"Well?" I said finally, already fighting tears.

He smiled.

"I'm going back home..." he started.

I sighed and watched his sweet, dancing eyes.

"To pack," he finished, breaking into a broad grin.

"To...pack?" I repeated, feeling confused.

"We're not staying there!" he shouted, almost spilling over with joy.
"We're moving, Jared."

I still looked puzzled.

"We're moving HERE!"

He said it so loud, I'm sure the neighbors heard it all the way down the
block.

"You're moving???" I asked excitedly.

He nodded.  Tried in vain to hold back his uncontrollable joy.

"Mom says we're starting over," he grinned gleefully.  "Right here.  In
California.  Where we've got FAMILY."

He accented the last word "family" with such pride.  Such relief.  Such
incredible happiness.

I couldn't help it.  I burst into tears right on the spot.  He came over
to me, and suddenly we were laughing.  Laughing and kissing and crying and
hugging -- time suddenly stopped -- and there was nothing in the world but
me and Darien -- and a future full of brilliant possibilities neither of
us had ever, in a million years, in our wildest dreams, expected.

"When do you..."

"Move?" he answered breathlessly.  "Two weeks, Mom said."

I groaned.  Two weeks without him.  But then...

"Starting over for a lifetime," he grinned, reading my mind.

I kissed him again.  We fell to the floor, laughing and tickling and
holding each other.  We kissed, and kissed, and didn't stop kissing.
There was so much joy that day.  So much happiness dancing through the
air, you could almost see its colors.
___________________________________________________

I was fourteen-years-old when I first made love to Darien.

I was only fourteen on that amazing day so long ago when he showed up on
our doorstep, suitcase in hand, looking lost and lonely and so eager to be
loved.

And since then, life with Darien has been an adventure I would have never
imagined.

We're sophomores now, at USC.  I'm majoring in English.  Darien's studying
music.

We moved out of the dorms last semester, and as I write this, we've just
finished unpacking the last of the boxes.  Our first apartment together.
A dream come true.  A sweet, private victory.

The little boy who loved me in my bedroom is still here.  When I kiss him,
and hold him and give him my love, I can still imagine Darrie as he was
back then.  A gentle boy full of hope and sadness and a million different
wishes.  He's the same, beautiful Darien I fell in love with before I knew
the meaning of the word.

But his sad eyes and quiet tears have long since disappeared.

Now at 19, Darrie's eyes are confident and loving -- not the shy teenager
who needed my comfort -- but the strong, emerging man I'll spend my life
with.

That's a nice feeling...knowing we used to dream of a life like this...and
now, incredibly, we have one.

"What are you writing," he asks me softly, coming up behind me and kissing
my neck.

"Nothing," I smile, pushing the pages aside.  "Just a story about some
kids we knew."

"Oh," he says, wrapping his arms around my chest.  "Any juicy scenes?"

I laugh.  "A few," I admit.  "Way overdone...but hey...literary license.
Gotta give those internet travelers something to chew on, right?"

"Absolutely," he whispers, kissing my neck again.  "I've always liked your
impossibly happy endings."

"Me too," I grin. "They just keep getting happier."

We both laugh.  Then we kiss.  And then I don't feel like writing anymore.

Putting down my pencil, he leads me to the bedroom.  No twin beds anymore.
No locked doors.  Now we have a home, Darrie and me.

California sunshine streams through the open window like it always did.
Like it always will.  Like magic.

And I hold him gently and we make leisurely love through the whole
afternoon, kissing and sighing and laughing.

Nobody cries.  Nobody hurts.

And sometimes, the Disneys really do come true.

__________________________________________________

END