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IT'S WHAT HAPPENS
ONE-SHOT: CHESTER
BY GECKO'D
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Before it happened, really, Timmy never actually thought about this. This, well, this would get him to go "Eck!" and wrinkle his nose in horror if it was mentioned only as a joke, and he would probably shudder, saying, "Don't even kid about that stuff! I mean, not about us!"
But now that this had happened, now that there were nights like these when he came, shimming God-knows-how up to his window left purposefully ajar, and slipped in, and they were on the bed… He didn't think about their relationship anymore, to tell the truth. He had when this first started—what was the word for it? This rendez-vous late in the night while his clueless parents were (at times) rooms away, he had thought about their relationship, how it came to be and why…but now, it wasn't really about the relationship that he thought about…no, it was more about him.
Tonight, a quirky thought came to his mind, and it made sense in some way, to tell the truth. He smiled wryly while he looked the boy over—there was a breathy sigh, and he felt the boy trembling in bliss, eyes closed dreamily and lips hiding what ended up perfect teeth in a small smile. Heat pooled in the pit of his stomach, and he was kissing the boy's face all over again.
He thought—now, that was, if he pictured himself gay (bi, really)…well, that he would be at the bottom, to be blunt. But if he thought about it, Chester…Chester was everything he wasn't, and though they still had similarities concerning school and such, Chester was giving. That was what he did—he cared for the world, even if he fumbled up often when trying to help it, and he would be seen more considerate over his friends than Timmy, not that he wouldn't laugh at their expense. He wasn't selfish—he loved that trailer home of his, for God's sake, now two times larger because his braces' finances had been paid off. He was normally a cheerful person, not at all concerned that he was apparently poorer than some people, or being called white trash and that sort, laughing about how he was.
Timmy could never say Chester was submissive—this thought made him fiercely capture the blonde's lips, their teeth, Timmy growing into his well by now, clinking for a moment because the other boy had been caught surprised. What he knew, what Timmy knew, was that Chester was loyal. He was loyal to a person who treated him as well as he treated them—no, even if Chester never got as much back, he still stuck to a person. He wasn't a puppy, of course, if his companionship was abused, anger would get to him, and when he had some childish spat, which occurred between them because Timmy still had issues with his overconfidence, he sulked for a few days.
A sound of contentment vibrated from the blonde's throat, their tongues hot and lapping at each other. Timmy could feel pant garment constricting—his parents were gone as usual tonight—his right hand, grasping the back of the boy's neck, trailed down—
Chester's own hand stopped it.
Timmy pulled back, eyelids fluttering and breath uneven, looking down at the boy underneath him in confusion. Chester stared back at him, his own eyelids half-lid, green irises almost hazy.
"Hey, um…let's…let's not do it tonight, all right?" Chester murmured, speaking as if he were trying to find the right words.
Timmy stared at him for a few seconds. Finally, he replied, "O…Okay."
He thought the boy was all right—it wasn't hesitance, at least he thought. He had never been good with emotions to begin with, at least with emotions that didn't belong to him. Though Chester was always honest, it wasn't like the boy couldn't have secrets—Oh God, no, don't let your mind get crazy assumptions again, you fool, he told you that night and don't you forget it, Timmy thought firmly—but the boy was one of those people. Those people who expressed their minds, not because they couldn't keep a secret, but because they had a naïve character in them, that spoke what they wanted to.
It wasn't that Timmy doubted Chester. There was always an anxious part of him that was a constant, however, surfacing in his mind at the most random times, thinking, I hope, I hope Chester is all right, Oh God, what would I do if he got hurt? which normally led to a visit at odd hours. But what Timmy did doubt was himself, mostly at reading people, and that became a problem when Chester was upset over him, because there were a few times he didn't even realize it—
Timmy was jerked out of his spaced thoughts when he felt a soft, warm peck on his lips. He blinked once more, and saw Chester smiling softly. Of course—Chester knew what he was thinking; he had grown to analyze more once they entered their teens, which for Timmy had been more or less a reverse process. For some reason Timmy often had this prick in the back of his mind to think that he had it easier, that he had guidance, that most kids at twelve didn't, but he drew a foggy blank when he tried pinpointing it. But for another reason he could pinpoint, it didn't necessarily matter any longer; he didn't have some money-craving bitch making him slave away, he knew about the world, could take care of himself with minimum damage, and he had him.
"Don't worry, it's not anything serious," Chester assured him, then paused, "it's just…I want to spend tonight…well, I don't know…" He gave a helpless shrug, grinning in near apology, but an understanding had clicked in Timmy's eyes already.
"It's fine. I get you. Happy sixteenth birthday, Chester." He pressed his lips on the spot underneath the blonde's ear, making the teen shiver. It earned a smile; Timmy wrapped his arms around the boy for the night, blanket sprawled over them, finding his lips tugging up, too.
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"Who would have thought it, our little Timmy all grown up and loving a boy," Wanda gushed, watching the scene in a probably magical puffy-pink glowing ball that hovered in the air for no apparent reason in the middle of Fairy World.
"Panties! Wow, I never got around saying that when Timmy was around until he turned twelve! It's probably the television ratings." Cosmo spoke to himself cheerily, creeping out several civilians floating past them.
Wanda wacked him on the head. "Idiot!" she berated, rolling her eyes. "It's a wonder you're not gay!"
"And that's probably the television ratings too! PANTIES!" he shouted in a child's ear, who just stared at him in wondering because creatures related to the "boy" specimen did that.
"I'll just pretend you said 'I love you, Wanda!' " Wanda mimicked Cosmo's voice, then sighed. Shrugging, she popped a crick in her shoulders, thinking, I'm glad for his short attention span. If anything, it'd just be disturbing if I found out he had a crush on Jorgen or someone like that!
"Panties! Panties! And that's all, kids! Oink, oink, oink—BEEF!"
"IDIOT!"
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("I take it this still isn't Dairy World?")
FIN.