Construction Days

Construction Days, Chapter 25

Construction Days

© by The Lavender Quill, 2003

Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of male/male sex between consenting adults. If that sort of thing bothers you, or you are a minor, or it is illegal for you to read this type of content under the laws of your area, don’t read any further.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual people or events is purely coincidental.

Setting: Sacramento, California, 2003.

Chapter 25: Epilogue.

I smiled when I woke to my favorite view. I almost always woke before Robby, especially on a day like this.

It was Christmas. We had been in our new two-bedroom apartment for fourteen months. Most of the time I awoke to see Robby’s naked form next to me in bed. This morning he was lying on his stomach with his arms cradled under his pillow. I can’t sleep on my stomach, but when I see Robby like that, I’m always tempted to lick him from his neck all the way down to the crack of his ass.

I resisted the temptation. It was very early. I’m like a kid on Christmas. I get all excited, anticipating what presents I might get. I wake up, and there is no way I can go back to sleep.

So I quietly rolled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. I took a little extra time in the shower, making sure I was especially clean. I shaved extra carefully, and combed my hair neatly. I brushed my teeth—twice. I even dabbed a drop of Robby’s cologne on my neck (I almost never use cologne, and don’t have any of my own).

I looked at myself in the mirror. I had filled out some over the last fourteen months. My shoulders were a little bigger, my chest a little broader, and my legs a little thicker. Nothing like James with the giant gym body, but not bad. I didn’t really exercise much, other than the construction work. I did some crunches a few times a week, because Robby like my abs, and I liked that he liked them.

Amazingly, Robby seemed not to have aged a day. When we met someone new, they invariably thought I was older than him, sometimes quite a bit older, which always made us laugh. In a few more months I would actually be able to buy beer legally for the first time.

I padded into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around my waist. I tried to take my time, to be calm, tried not to give in to my excitement. But there was a cute boy in the bedroom that I really wanted to ravish, and I wasn’t long on patience. I drank down a glass of orange juice, and then poured a second glass for Robby. I put it on a tray. I got out a pop-can sized candle—Christmas red—and set it next to the juice. Then I carried it into the living room.

We had a small Christmas tree with two presents under it. The rest were piled next to the door, ready for our trip over to my parents for dinner. I set the tray on the coffee table and picked up a Santa hat that was draped over the arm of a chair. You know, those cheep, fuzzy, brilliantly red caps with the white brim and white puff-ball on the end? I put the hat on, lit the candle, and picked up the tray.

Wearing nothing but the Santa hat and a towel, I padded back to the bedroom with an admittedly lecherous grin on my face.

As much as possible, I wanted this day to be perfect for Robby. He had kept his promise and seen a therapist. He seemed to have worked out most of his self-destructive issues. He had not had any relapses, and last I heard, Alex had moved to Las Angeles, thank goodness. Robby had grown much more affectionate with me, which I loved. Mostly, he seemed very happy.

But not always. He still missed his parents and his sister. He had tried to call them. Every week at first. Then every month. He had stopped trying six months ago. They refused to speak to him at all. Most of the time he was successful in not letting the loss hurt too much. Thanksgiving—always a big family thing for him in the past—had been tough. I suppose it is for all gay people who have been rejected by their family. My parents tried to make up for it, inviting us over for a huge feast. It wasn’t the same thing, though. Like Robby said, you can’t just trade one for another.

Christmas was the other big family day for Robby, of course. Last year he had tried to call his parents, and they’d hung up on him. Again. So I knew today was going to be a little hard for him.

I took two steps in to the bedroom and stopped, transfixed. Robby still lay naked on his stomach, his face turned toward the wall. In the dim, pre-dawn light filtering through the blinds, his creamy skin made my pulse race. His ass was one of the most beautiful things on earth, at least in my opinion. His legs were parted just slightly, invitingly. I didn’t want to disturb him. I was content to just stare at him for a while.

Robby turned his head toward me. “Hey, stud boy,” he said. He had not been asleep; he was just teasing me. He smiled and his eyes sparkled. “You just gonna stand there?”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. I walked to the bed and set the tray on the night-stand, trying not to look too anxious.

“I didn’t want to wake you up, sleeping beauty.” I said.

I sat on the edge of the bed and trailed my fingers lightly down the graceful curve of his back, grazing the crack of his ass, not quite brushing his balls. He spread his legs a fraction wider. I curbed the desire to bury my face between his legs.

“What’s with the hat?” he asked.

“I’m Santa.”

He looked at me skeptically. I reached for his glass of juice.

“Come sit on Santa’s lap,” I said. “Drink your juice, and tell Santa if you’ve been naughty or nice.”

He raised an eyebrow, but played along. He pulled his legs up like a cat, then extended them off the edge of the bed. He slid over next to me. He stroked my arm, feeling my bicep.

“You don’t look like any Santa I ever saw,” he said. He rested his chin on my shoulder and sniffed lightly. “You sure don’t smell like any Santa I ever saw.”

“Santa injured his knee. So I’m filling in for him.”

Robby raised an eyebrow again.

“Like a stand in,” I explained.

“A relief Santa? Like a relief pitcher?”

“Exactly,” I smiled.

Robby grinned too. I patted my lap pointedly.

“Okay.”

He slid over and sat sideways on my lap, his bare ass right on my crotch. I handed him his juice.

“My Christmas present?” he asked.

“No. Santa just likes you to stay happy and healthy. That, and you might need the energy. Drink up.”

He drained the glass of juice and, arching his back exquisitely, set it on the night stand. He adjusted himself on my lap, no doubt feeling my hardon through the towel under his ass. He adjusted himself again.

“Good boy,” I said, still trying to maintain a straight face.

“Santa, you look remarkably like my boyfriend.”

“Nope. Santa,” I insisted. “So? Naughty or nice?”

“Hmmm…” He adjusted himself yet again as he pondered his answer. I resisted the urge to lick his soft creamy shoulder. “A little of both.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me show you.”

He turned and kissed me. A passionate, but slow lazy morning kind of kiss. I held his shoulder with one hand, and caressed his thigh with the other as our tongues swirled around each other.

“That’s pretty nice,” I said softly when we came up for air a few minutes later.

Robby turned and sat straddling my lap, facing me. We went back to kissing, his big cock now hard and pressing against my stomach, his smooth chest pressed against mine. I ran my hands up and down his back holding him to me, while he wrapped his arms around my neck.

The towel, which seemed like scanty covering only a few minutes ago, now seemed like a barrier. Robby seemed to sense that too. He broke our kiss and reached down behind himself. He slid his hand up under the towel and grasped my cock.

“Does Santa have a surprise for me?” he asked.

“Mmmm,” I moaned. I licked his neck. “Is this the naughty part?”

“You don’t seem to mind.” He gave my cock a light stroke for emphasis.

“Not at all,” I said.

I cupped my hands under his ass and lifted him off my lap. He took the cue and pulled the towel away, dropping it on the bed. I set him back down squarely over my cock.

Our lips met again, and our kissing intensified. I ground my hips up, pushing my cock against his entry, kneading the firm flesh of his ass cheeks with my hands.

“Now Santa’s the naughty one,” said Robby, a little breathlessly.

“Want me to stop?”

“You better not.”

Back to kissing. He squirmed on my lap, nearly impaling himself on my cock without the benefit of lube. By then I was worked up enough that I was starting to manufacture my own lubricant. I lifted him up a little and swiped some precome on my finger. I kissed his nipple as I smeared a slick trail in a slow circle around his rosebud.

“Ohhhh, Kevin!” he sighed.

“Santa,” I corrected.

“Ohh, Santa,” Robby giggled sarcastically.

He leaned into me and I tipped backwards on the bed, laughing with him. He tumbled on top of me, landing with his cock conveniently nudging my ear. I turned my head slightly and took it into my mouth. As much as I could fit, anyway. In all our time together, I still have not managed to deep throat him. That doesn’t keep me from trying, of course. I practice every chance I get. If I can get the right angle, relax, and try to ignore my gag reflex, I can manage to get most of him in my mouth.

We reposition ourselves on the bed to allow me the best access. I continue to play with his asshole as I suck on him. He likes that a lot. We’ve come to discover we are very compatible, sexually. We are both somewhat versatile, but most of the time Robby prefers to be a bottom. I love it when he fucks me occasionally, but he is rather large, and I don’t think I could take it if he wanted to do it every day. I adore his ass; I think it’s beautiful, I like to caress it, finger it, kiss it, lick it, rim it, fuck it, or worship it if he wants me to.

I slobbered hungrily on his cock and played with his ass until he was thoroughly worked up. Before he came, I stopped. I reached over and pulled a toy out of the drawer next to the bed. We don’t have much in the way of sex toys. I’ve never had the nerve to actually go into one of those shops where they sell that kind of stuff, and Robby wasn’t big on toys either. Nirasha, however, turns out to be a sex toy aficionado—which I’m sure is a thrill for her partner, Becky. So earlier in the year, Nirasha gave us our one toy as a gift: a slim vibrator, not much bigger than a finger. I retrieved it from the drawer, along with a new tube of bright red lube (to maintain the Christmas theme), which I had ordered over the Internet.

“Santa needs a Robby milkshake,” I said.

Robby leered at me. I cracked open the lube and slicked up the vibrator. Robby knelt very still in front of me as I slowly reached around behind him and inserted it into his ass. I slid it in and out a few times. His cock softened a tiny bit as he adjusted to it. I kissed his smooth flat belly, and ran my tongue down to his pubes. Inhaling his scent, I turned the vibrator on. Robby hissed in a breath and his cock jumped back to life immediately. He pressed himself hard against my cheek, humping the side of my face uncontrollably. Robby sometimes went a little crazy when we played with our toy like that.

“Oh shit, Kevin. Suck me,” he begged.

“Santa,” I corrected again.

“Suck me Santa!” he laughed.

I eagerly obliged. He put his hands on my shoulders and started bucking erratically, thrusting into my mouth. I slid the vibrator slowly in and out of his ass. He was totally losing control, and I knew he wasn’t going to last long. I concentrated on keeping my teeth out of the way as his thick meat filled my mouth repeatedly. He cried out, and I felt his cock spasm, and tasted his come flooding my mouth. He jerked and twitched in a long, powerful orgasm.

I turned off the vibrator and let his cock slip from my mouth. He fell back on the bed. I withdrew the vibrator from his ass and set it next to the candle. Then I dropped along side him. His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“Mmm,” I cooed, licking my lips. “Breakfast.”

Robby looked at me. “Santa is a pervert.”

We both laughed. “Santa’s not done yet,” I said.

Robby reached down and felt my cock, which was hard as granite.

“Oooo. Santa got a little excited?”

I kissed him again. He kissed me back softly, still recovering from his orgasm. I was determined not to rush. I wanted to bring him as much happiness as I could today. If I concentrated, I could last longer than I could when we first met. Which is not to say that I can go for hours—I still think tantric sex is myth—but I can last longer than two minutes.

I banked the fires of my own cravings and we cuddled for a while. I caressed him, kissed him lightly, gave him a lick here and there. After a while he was kissing me back and rousing for round two.

“Santa’s horny,” he teased.

“Always for you,” I said, grabbing his cock which was hardening again.

Robby rolled on top of me and our kissing intensified as he pressed his body against mine. I ran my hands up and down his back, his ass, his shoulders, his legs, every inch of his body that I could reach, the body I could never get enough of.

We rolled over, and Robby wrapped his legs around my back. I kissed him passionately. I looked down at him and he was looking back at me with a glint in his eye and a wicked grin on his face. I’m sure I had the same expression. I knew what he wanted and he knew what I wanted.

I kissed my way down his body. I would be one happy boy to just lick him all day, but I was getting too horny and I wanted to get to what we both wanted to get to. I licked his cock briefly, which was completely hard again. Then I kept moving down. I licked his balls. Robby spread his legs wide and pulled his knees up, exposing his ass to me. I gladly moved down. I slowly zeroed my tongue in toward his hole. There was still a trace of bright red lube from when we’d used the vibrator there.

“Mmm, cherry flavor,” I said, and we both giggled.

I kept licking until there was no further trace of cherry flavor.

“Mmm, Robby flavor,” I growled in a sexy voice. At least I hope it sounded like a sexy voice.

I started to really get in to rimming him, my tongue lashing around, probing deep, swirling around. Robby giggled. He usually didn’t giggle when I was rimming him, and I looked up.

“What?” I asked.

“Santa, your hat is tickling my balls,” he blushed.

I grinned and jerked my head forward, sending the cone of the hat over his cock. I went back to rimming him, moving my head around exaggeratedly, now intentionally tickling both his cock and his balls with the fuzzy hat. He squirmed and giggled and I held his hips and kept going. He jerked and squealed, but he kept his legs spread. Finally, he yanked the hat off my head and tossed it aside. Probably just as well; my tongue was getting tired.

I moved up his body till I was face to face with him again.

“I wasn’t sure if I was gonna come or pee myself,” said Robby. We laughed softly together.

I settled my weight a little and our breathing stabilized. My throbbing cock was lodged between his ass cheeks. We stared in to each other’s lust clouded eyes.

“Please Kevin,” he whispered. “I want you inside me.”

A request I was more than happy to comply with. I fumbled for the tube of red lube and quickly smeared a healthy coating all over my cock, and added a little to his ass. I pressed my cockhead to his opening, and closed my lips over his. He welcomed my tongue into his mouth as my cock pried past his sphincter. After the vibrator and my rimming, he was more than ready. He grasped my shoulders and moaned into our kiss as I slowly sank into him in one long stroke.

“Oh, Robby,” I sighed as I felt myself completely ensheathed in his hot canal.

I held myself in place and kissed him fiercely until he began to writhe under me. I pulled out almost completely and sank down again. We both moaned together.

“Oh that feels so good,” gasped Robby.

I was almost ready to come already, and gritted my teeth, trying to hold back. I swallowed hard, and managed to wait it out. When I felt I could go on, I started to fuck him slowly and deeply, the way we both like it. I lasted for another minute or two before I felt an orgasm building again. I stopped, still wanting it to last.

Panting, I reached for the cherry flavored lube and dribbled some on to Robby’s cock. I slicked him up and pumped his big dick with my fist. I felt his ass clenching on my cock. He stared into my eyes. He looked so hot, just looking at him made me want to come.

He pulled me down and we locked lips again. We pressed our bodies together and squirmed around. I could feel his slick cock sliding against my stomach. We increased our movement and I started fucking him again. With his big cock sliding up and down my belly, I knew I wasn’t going to last very long, and I wasn’t going to be able to stop this time.

“Oh Robby!”

I tried to go slow, but almost involuntarily my movements sped up, my cock sliding in and out of his beautiful ass in deep strokes. His legs wrapped around my waist and his arms grasped my back. He pulled himself against me, almost lifting himself off the bed trying to merge our bodies. His tongue snaked deep into my mouth and he uttered a muffled cry. I could feel his ass clench on my cock as he started to spurt between our tightly pressed bodies.

Feeling him come like that always triggers me too, and I began to unload into him in a powerful orgasm. His ass clenched and released, clenched again. I kept thrusting into him, filling him, erupting again and again.

“Ohhh Robbyyyyy!”

My muscles locked in place as I thrust one last time as my orgasm crested. Robby’s limbs were locked around me. I gasped for air, and Robby slowly relaxed his arms and settled away from me, our chests pulling apart covered with come. I gulped in a couple more breaths and kissed his chin.

I thought my arms might give out, so we rolled over till I was on my back. Robby straddled me, my cock still half hard and buried inside him. I know that sometimes he likes me to stay inside him for a while after we’re done, and this way he can get off when he wants. He sat up, still astride me, and laced his fingers into mine. His chest and face were flushed and he was sucking in air too. We smiled at each other in our afterglow. I think he is the most beautiful creature on earth.

When we can breath again halfway normally, he leaned back down and kissed me softly.

“I love you, Kevin,” he said.

I gave a little surge and thrust half limply into him. This is what I like the most. He has been able to open up to me and tell me he loves me. And I know that he really means it, no holding back like he did before. This means more than anything to me.

“Thank you,” I said, choking up a little and pulling him to me to kiss some more.

* * * * *

Most of the day, Robby seemed happy.

We stayed in bed cuddling and necking for half the morning. Then I made breakfast for Robby. It wasn’t gourmet, but I managed to make French toast without burning it.

At noon, we went to church with Nirasha. I still tease her sometimes, and call her Oh Beautiful and Wondrous Nirasha. So does Robby. He likes going to church with her. I went with them often for a while, but I didn’t really get into it. I’m still not too sure what exactly I believe in, but I guess church just isn’t my thing. But I went anyway, just because it seemed to help Robby, and I was willing to do almost anything that would help. Nirasha did have a terrific voice, as Robby had claimed, and I did enjoy listening to the choir. But we all realized after a few months that Robby and Nirasha really believed, and got into the services, while I was just going through the motions. They finally let me off the hook, telling me there was no point in forcing myself to go if I didn’t want to. They were right. Eventually, I probably would have become resentful. But I still go periodically, and since I don’t feel obligated to go, I enjoy it more.

The Christmas service was nice. The choir sounded better than ever. What really made me feel good was that Robby, having long struggled with the narrow religious beliefs he was raised under, had found a new church that fulfilled his spiritual needs. His old church left him with crushing guilt, and spiritually lost because it clashed with his own experience. He was like a bicycle chain that has slipped off the gears. Since he started going to church with Nirasha, it is like the chain has fallen back in place. It all meshes.

Later in the afternoon, we went over to my parent’s house for dinner. Both my brothers came, and David brought his wife and kids, of course. David is still not thrilled that I am gay. He is not rude, like he was when I first came out to them. He knows my parents and middle brother John will slam him. He is polite, but distant. He isn’t rabidly homophobic, but it obviously makes him uncomfortable, and he would clearly rather not be confronted with it or talk about it. Since I am the youngest brother, I consider it my job to tease him, so I intentionally hold Robby’s hand or show my affection in other small ways whenever David is around. David tries to ignore us, but he can’t. I try not to get too carried away. If I totally started frenching Robby and grinding our bodies together in front of him, I’m sure he would freak, and my parents would be pretty pissed too.

The family get together is a mixed bag for Robby. On one hand, he has come to like my parents and John. John is funny sometimes, making jokes about stealing Robby from me when he is between girlfriends. He is totally straight, but likes to tease David as much as I do. On the other hand, the general acceptance by my family serves as a reminder to Robby about the destruction of his own family relationships. Everyone in my family got Robby something small and thoughtful for Christmas, which made him happy, but he didn’t receive so much as a phone call or a card from his family. The card we sent them was returned.

My dad asked how business was going for Robby. Robby had accepted the money they offered so he could pay off his parents and we could get a bigger apartment together, but he insisted that we pay it back. Fortunately, Robby’s business has blossomed. When he decided he needed to hire an assistant, I dropped to working only half time for my uncle, and now work half time with Robby. The money is good, and I get to spend more time with Robby, and I like that a lot. We were able to pay back my parents before Thanksgiving. They didn’t want to accept it at first, but Robby insisted again. We were doing well, and it made him feel better, so they accepted it.

I could see the mood changes flowing through Robby as the day wore on. Some times he was smiling and animated, joking with John or talking with my parents. Other times he stared off, distracted, and I knew he was thinking of his parents and sister. None of us talked about it. There was nothing new we could say.

After dinner, we went home to our apartment. Jeremy had got us a DVD of ‘The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert’ for Christmas, so we sat down to watch it together. It was a very funny Australian movie with drag queens and a really cute guy. Very Jeremy.

Half way through the movie, the phone rang. We paused the movie, and Robby went to the bathroom while I answered the phone.

“Hello?” I said, half expecting it to be my parents. Who else would call on a Christmas evening? I wondered if we had forgotten something over there.

There was a long silence, and I almost hung up.

“Um… is this Kevin?” said a female voice I didn’t recognize.

“Yeah.”

“Oh… um, is Rob there?”

“Uh, who’s calling?” I said, mostly just stalling for time since Robby was in the bathroom.

“This is Dianne...”

I paused, drawing a blank. I couldn’t recall any Dianne.

“…his mother.”

Oh, shit. Now I recognized the voice. I hadn’t heard it since we browbeat her into letting us take Robby’s stuff from their house. I immediately went on the defensive. I sucked in a breath and gritted my teeth.

“What do you want?” I hissed, trying to keep my voice down.

“I, I just want to talk to him.”

I turned to look down the hallway. The bathroom door was still closed. I walked into the kitchen with the chordless phone, hoping Robby couldn’t hear.

Now you may think that since I spent a good deal of effort to try to help Robby over the last fourteen months, and did everything I could to make his Christmas happy, that I’m a perfectly happy well adjusted homo. Well, mostly I think I am, but hearing Robby’s mother brought up all the residual anger I felt toward his parents ever since I nailed Robby’s father to the wall of that condo building. Every time Robby tried to call them or mail them and he was rejected yet again, I wanted to strangle them. I had always stuffed these thoughts, however. My anger was superceded by my need to be supportive of Robby. I hadn’t realized the extent of my anger or the depths I had buried it until this phone call.

“Why should I let you talk to him?” I lashed out at her.

“What?”

“Haven’t you hurt him enough already?”

“I…”

“Do you have any idea what it did to him when you threw him out? No, I don’t suppose you do, do you? You refuse to talk to him at all.” My anger was increasing as I read her the riot act. “He’s your son. Do you care? No! He tried calling and writing and emailing. No response at all from you in a year and a half! Way to show those traditional family values,” I said scornfully. “He’s just now starting to get over you. He was almost happy most of the day today. If you think I’m gonna let you ruin that, you’re crazy!”

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed.

That deflated some of my anger, but only a little.

“I was wrong,” she said.

I was not convinced. “You returned our Christmas card,” I pointed out.

“Steve… Rob’s father… insisted. He still won’t accept that Rob is… that way.”

“What way? You mean gay? That I love Robby and he loves me?” I threw in her face.

“Y-yes.”

“Well tough shit. I’m gay. Robby’s gay. There’s nothing we can do to change that. Robby tried, and it nearly destroyed him. It doesn’t work that way. And there’s nothing you can do about it either.”

“I, I know that now. Th-that’s why I called. I… made a mistake. I failed him.”

I huffed and fumed for a minute, but didn’t know what to say to that.

“Please… please just let me talk to him.”

She sounded near tears. I was not quite ready to give in yet, though. A few tears to elicit sympathy was not enough to get past my defenses.

“What do you want?” I demanded again.

“Look, I… I see that you’re trying to protect him. You… must care for him a great deal—”

“I love him,” I insisted, interrupting, not giving her any slack.

“Okay.” She paused again. “Well, I love him too.”

“Is that why you’ve hung up on him every time he’s called?”

She did break down and cry then. I felt like an asshole. My self-righteous indignation was evaporating. I could hear her sniff and pull herself together.

“You make it sound like I don’t care at all,” she said. “It wasn’t easy hanging up, you know. I… we just did what we thought was best. We, we thought he would give up being… that way.”

“Gay?”

“Yes… gay. But I, I miss him. I don’t care if he’s twenty-three now, he’s still my baby, my first born. Our church said we should be strong, but I couldn’t stand it. I finally talked to some other friends of mine, not from the church. They convinced me that I was wrong.”

She sniffed again. My expression softened. I could feel myself relenting.

“This has been hard for me,” she continued. “You can’t lay any more guilt on me than I’ve already laid on myself. I’ve behaved horribly. I know that now. I want to make it up to him. You have to let me talk to him. Please.”

Robby walked in to the kitchen.

“Who’s on the phone?” He asked, oblivious to the heated conversation I’d been carrying on with his mother.

I debated whether to hand the phone over to him or just hang up.

“Please,” she begged again in my ear. “I promise not to hurt him any more. He’s my son. I need him and he needs me.”

I knew that my impulse to hang up was just resentment and anger. I also realized she was right. If she was willing to try to patch things up, it would be wrong for me to stand in the way.

“It’s your mom,” I said, careful to keep my expression neutral.

I held out the phone to him. He blanched. I didn’t force him to take the phone, just offered it to him. If he didn’t want to take it, I would’ve been just as happy to hang up. He hesitantly took the phone from my hand and slowly put it to his ear.

“Mom?”

I watched him intently for any signs of distress. He pulled a chair out from our little dinette set and sat down. I quickly sat in another chair and held out a hand to him across the table. His free hand slowly came up and I grasped it.

She was talking to him, but I don’t know what she said. I could hear the tiny warble from the earpiece in the silent apartment, but couldn’t make out any words. I could only gage his reaction by his expression and the tension in the hand I held. If things went badly, I vowed to snatch the phone away and hang it up myself, if necessary.

After a minute, my anxiety began to fade. Robby began to relax.

A tear broke free and rolled down his cheek.

“Mommy…” he said, sounding like a little boy, his voice brimming with emotion.

And he smiled.

* * The End * *

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