Guidance (closed for ericrodman101) [M/M]

[ericrodman101]

Gerry felt Toby tremble, scrunching the older man's shirt into a tight ball. All the signs of insecurity and what....distrust? You can trust me....

And when Toby finally lifted his eyes and Gerry felt his heart rise instinctively, all he heard was 'whoring' and 'bitch'. Harsh words, but maybe not unusual in 18 year olds, especially troubled ones where sex and relationships were concerned.

But it was Toby's reference to his mother which really interested Gerry. The planned visit to Toby's home, Gerry thought, assuming he still had a job after fondling a student in the guidance office. It will probably explain everything, but not how to fix it.

And then Toby was holding Gerry's face in his hands, staring at him as if seeing him for the first time. Gerry was too surprised to respond or resist, but just sat stock still and let things play out. Whatever you want, Toby, he said with his eyes. I'm not going anywhere.

"Do you cheat on her too?"

Gerry gulped. No, he thought, without hesitation. Cheat? No! But there was doubt. Porn, Was that cheating? And sitting in the office with an 18 year old on his lap, getting hard? Maybe it wasn't such a simple question. Would I cheat, he thought. After what Andrea did?

"Andrea is the only woman I've slept with since we were married," Gerry said, hearing how deliberately chosen the words sounded in his mouth. "So, no, I haven't cheated..."

Gerry's words trailed off, as if his declaration was qualified.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby cocked his head to one side. Why did the man sound so unsure of himself, when he hadn't cheated? As if he somehow deserved to be cheated on? It made Toby want to be angry on his behalf. Perhaps even angry at him.

Don't act like such a little bitch, Gerry. She's the bitch. Be pissed. Why aren't you pissed?

The boy's hands slid down to the counsellor's shoulders.

"You haven't cheated on her," he said with all the calm he could muster. "You're... a nice person. You deserve not to be treated like shit! Be mad, okay? Who knows how many dudes she's fucked behind your back? She could be crawling with diseases for all you know. Fuck her! Fuck that horrible bitch. You could get her back, huh? Why shouldn't you?"

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry listened to Toby venting his anger. It felt good to be shown such loyalty. Gerry tried to recall how he felt at eighteen when the world was black and white, and every question was a moral one with a right answer and a multitude of wrong ones. But sitting on the floor of the guidance office with a slowly softening cock and a student in his arms, the last thing Gerry was comfortable doing was affirming Toby's analysis of the Andrea situation.

With Toby's hands on his shoulders, Gerry leaned back against the will and sighed again. "If only it was that simple, but the world is not like that. You want me to tell you real things? Real is...."

Gerry gazed into Toby's flaring eyes. He just wanted to hold him, kiss him, let the boy know that this was good, being here with him was good, not in any moral sense. No. It made Gerry feel good. And given the way Gerry felt after discovering Andrea had moved on from their relationship, finding something positive was what he craved.

"...real is looking to the future Toby. What's happened can't be changed. Revenge might make you feel better for a moment, but tomorrow the bad thing has still happened, and you can't take revenge every day or it eats you up. Inside. Real is making good things happen, and finding someone you want to make them happen with."

Fuck, he thought. I'm rambling now. And if I kiss Toby, or worse, what happens then? Am I ready to pass the point of no return?

"Hey, we can't sit here all night or my back is going to break against this wall. Do you want to go for a walk or eat? Yeah, let's eat. My treat."

 

[tamgreen]

Toby's posture slumped. The man's relentless logic and effortless common sense seemed to deflate him. All the righteous wrath that had filled his chest and got his adrenaline pumping drained away to a dull sense of uselessness and slight embarrassment. Being angry and vengeful instead of being sad was his only strategy in life - it hadn't done him any good so far; of course it wouldn't do anyone else good, even if he'd meant well.

Revenge might make you feel better for a moment, but tomorrow the bad thing has still happened.

Those words whirled around and around in his mind. Fuck, the guy was right. All the fighting and swearing and rebellion and vengeance in the world wouldn't change how shitty his life was. It would only consume him quicker. But maybe, on some level, that was the point - self-destruction. Get to the end faster, because inside, he knew he would always be a nobody and was going nowhere.

That could change, couldn't it? He wanted to be useful - a person who had a place in the world, a function. The idea of making someone else feel better, even if he'd gone about it in all the wrong ways, was still appealing. Good things. Real is making good things happen.

"Food would be... good," he decided, nodding. "Yeah."

He let go of Gerry's shoulders and looked about to get up, but instead slid even closer to the man, nearly in his lap again, and hugged him tightly. He'd seemed to enjoy that before, and Toby liked it too. That could be a good thing.

"In a minute," he whispered against Gerry's cheek. "We'll go in a minute."

 

[ericrodman101]

Toby agreed to eat, but not just yet, and snuggled closer to Gerry. The older man adjusted his back so he could sit more comfortably. The alarm bells were going off loud and clear. Every second spent sitting on the floor of the guidance office in the embrace of a student screamed dismissal. And yet Gerry was enjoying himself in a perverse sense. He wasn't quite sure whether the amenable, agreeable Toby was more readable than the angry, insolent one. But this mood at least meant he wasn't having to anticipate a physical attack and fend Toby off. Still, he kept an ear out for anyone in the corridor, especially a cleaner or security who might let themselves in when they saw a light on.

Then there was wondering what to say next. Had his words made a difference, his answers satisfied Toby? Or was this just a temporary moment of calm before another explosion?

And what did it all mean? Gerry tried to focus on that question in his head rather than own up to himself about what he was doing. He'd got hard. The kid had got hard. He'd wanted to kiss an 18 year old boy. Fuck! Where did that urge come from.

But he knew where it came from. Deep down. He knew.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby continued holding onto the counsellor until he felt reasonably calm, if a bit disappointed. The strange moment in the chair, when he'd felt the older man's hardness beneath his ass, and his own pressed into Gerry's stomach as the man's big hands roamed over his back, had been surreal and confusing but also thrilling - it seemed he couldn't make it happen again. Maybe it never would. Maybe it was an anomaly Gerry would prefer to forget. He was a good, reasonable, sensible, faithful man. Of course he wouldn't want to do that. He'd explicitly said he'd done wrong, and apologized to Toby for whatever that was. Maybe Toby was just a bad person, to try to make that wrong happen again.

With a somewhat sheepish look on his face, Toby slid back, withdrawing his arms and wiping his eyes quickly before turning to grab his backpack.

"I'm ready," he whispered. "We should go, I guess. You're really nice... to talk to me like this, and... feed me."

He finally looked up at Gerry again. It seemed to be a monumental effort. He gripped the straps of his backpack as he put it back on.

"Thank you," he managed at last. He couldn't remember the last time he'd said such words to anyone. He hoped Gerry could appreciate how hard it was for him.

 

[ericrodman101]

After everything that had occurred, the arguments and the grappling, getting hard with Toby on his lap, sitting on the floor with their arms round each other, speaking frankly, and feeling Toby gradually turn from the angry young man, listening, weighing up what he was hearing, thinking before he spoke, it was those two words which tripped Gerry up.

Thank you...

Gerry suggested food and Toby agreed, then clung to him a little longer. Gerry's back, pushed against the wall, spasmed painfully. Finally the kid rose and reached for his backpack. Gerry watched him bend in the too tight trousers the nurse had supplied him earlier. Toby's shirt rode up slightly, exposing a line of soft white flesh across his lower back. Toby straightened and turned, gripping the backpack, hands over his shoulders. Toby's slight stomach was exposed now. Gerry found his eyes drawn to the boy's slim torso and the neat navel that peeked between shirt and trousers, in front of him as he sat. The older man pulled himself up, his bent legs and back straightening with relief. Toby was looking up at him now, youthful anticipation in his eyes. Anticipating what...? The features, hard with anger and pain and rejection for days, were now sweetly softened, innocent with gratitude maybe.

Toby reminded Gerry of someone. No, of something. A time before...before all these years of effort and boredom and repetition and... Gerry was taken back to when he felt...something warm, in himself and for himself. Maybe it was standing, maybe it was the stress of the day, maybe it was the lingering excitement of his recently hard cock. Gerry felt giddy and exhausted and...free.

"Thank you," Toby said. Gerry reached forward, placed his hands either side of Toby's face, leaned down and kissed Toby on the mouth. Not a deep kiss. Mouth closed. Not breathless and hungry. Just a simple kiss. The boy smelled sweet and fresh, like a basket of clothes not newly washed, but sat in a closed room for a while. And when Gerry disengaged, he held his face close just for a moment, inhaling, signing with satisfaction. Suddenly this spontaneity felt so right after the hours of guilt he'd endured, fighting the enervating mix of impending doom and arousal.

"Thank you, Toby," Gerry heard himself say from a long way off. "Thank you..."

And then Gerry's cellphone rang in his pocket.

 

[tamgreen]

Of all the things a person might have said or done in response to a simple thank you, the last Toby would have expected was to be kissed. It was so unexpected it took several moments for him to process what had actually happened. He stood blushing, with Gerry's hands still on his cheeks, and the tickle of the older man's beard still lingering around his chin. His heart was racing.

Fuck. The man's lips had actually touched his. That was a real, actual kiss. No one had kissed him like this before. What did it mean? God, a few minutes ago, they'd both been grinding boners against each other, but somehow he was still left wondering whether he could be misinterpreting all of it.

Surely a counsellor wouldn't want him that way. No nice older man with a soft white beard who could be his grandfather would want a loser teenager that way. Gerry wasn't some creepy perv - he was a nice man who wanted to help kids.

Before he could gather the scattered fragments of his mind together or even consider whether he could have the guts to ask for some kind of clarification, the old man's phone rang.

Quickly Toby stepped away, as if he'd been the one doing something inappropriate and someone were about to catch them.

"Is it... your wife?" he whispered, Andrea being the only person in Gerry's life that he knew about. "Are you going to fight?"

 

[ericrodman101]

Reluctantly, Gerry took the call, giving Toby one of those 'what else can I do' looks. Andrea. The wholesale inappropriateness of what he'd just done was overwhelming Gerry. He felt nauseous, weak at the knees.

"Shhh," he said instinctively when Toby spoke. "Andrea, yeah, still at school. Late. Your mother? Sorry to hear that. OK. Bye."

Gerry slipped the cellphone back in his pocket. Toby just stood, expectantly. Gerry felt other worldly, as if the whole episode might be a dream and any moment Toby would dematerialise, leaving him standing alone in the guidance office with a vague post-erection warmth in his groin.

"Yes, Andrea. She's been called away. Her mother's ill. She won't be back for a few days."

The story told, Gerry found himself out of words. Toby stood, gazing up at him, but a little more focused maybe. What else was there to say?

 

[tamgreen]

Toby's eyes narrowed. "Called away - sure," he snorted skeptically. "Called away by more dudes she wants to fuck, maybe. I don't know why you'll call me on my bullshit but you won't call her on any of hers, but what do I know about marriage?"

He shrugged and edged closer to the door, his thoughts quickly turning to food, eclipsing his previous fixation around the meaning of the unexpected kiss.

Feeding and fucking - the two most primal, essential human drives. Perhaps once he'd taken care of the one, he could give more thought to the other.

"Ready?"

 

[ericrodman101]

The Andrea story seemed to bring out the old angry Toby. Gerry guessed there were a few things going on here. Clearly Toby's relationship with his mother was fraught. The kid's file said as much. And then there was his loyalty to Gerry. Yes, loyalty was the word. If Andrea was cheating, then Gerry was being wronged. The boy's almost sweet, Gerry thought. Sweet on me?

"...but what do I know about marriage?" Well, that about sums it up, Gerry thought, but he didn't speak. Better just to let Toby vent until some other irritation or distraction came along.

Gerry followed Toby into the corridor to the school's side door. Funny how I'm being led around by an 18 year old, he thought. Funny, but fun too. They stepped outside and Gerry pondered whereto next. Food? Toby's place? Home? A walk in the dark?

"What do you want to eat, Toby?"

 

[tamgreen]

Toby seemed caught off guard by the question. When had anyone ever asked him what he wanted? What did he want? He'd struggled for scraps for so long, he could hardly be picky.

"I've eaten literal garbage," he said grimly. "I'll take anything. Besides... you're paying, so... you should decide."

He chewed on his lip and considered the question a little more.

"I guess I've... always wondered what a really good steak is like. If you're really asking. But it's probably expensive so I sure don't need it."

 

[ericrodman101]

"Steak," Gerry said. "Sure. Follow me."

So I get to show Toby his first good steak, Gerry thought. And then the euphemism was stuck in his head as they walked through the town. Toby and red meat. You're a filthy minded cunt, Gerry.

"There's a good steak restaurant on Third Street. We'll go there."

But Gerry felt stuck for small talk. It was no surprise that Toby was a gut-reaction kinda kid, given his upbringing and how the world had treated him. And Gerry had thirty five years experience on him, not to mention a tertiary education and an untroubled existence, until now at least. It occurred to Gerry that there was nothing normal about a man of his age entertaining an 18 year old in anything but a father-son sense. Did such an age difference allow for simple friendship, or companionship, or....sex? His thoughts inexorably landed on sex however much he tried to suppress them. Undeniably he was sexually attracted to Toby, but he couldn't really explain why. Explaining things was in his nature. He was trained to be analytical, a problem solver. But was same sex attraction to an 18 year old a problem to be solved, or just an itch to be scratched.

The more he thought about it, the more he went round and round in circles in his head, the further he seemed to be from an explanation. If he'd been a hedonist, of course, he'd just tell himself to go for it. And if he'd been less self critical, or moralistic, or just prudish, he might have been able to stop tormenting himself.

There was the work situation to think about. He'd already overstepped the line, contractually and probably legally, by sitting with the boy on his own after hours, getting hard, kissing him. They were already actions which triggered discipline and probably dismissal. Yet when he went back over the day's events, catching Andrea, having something of an emotional breakdown, and then his time with Toby, Gerry couldn't help but feel he was vindicated, or at least what had happened was inevitable, and natural, to be cherished almost.

Gerry realised they'd been walking for a while without speaking. He was in the lead and couldn't see Toby behind him, so slowed until they were alongside. He already craved glimpses of the kid, if not physical touch. His left brain was telling him how deep he was in so quickly, and his right brain, go deeper.

Go deeper....

 

[tamgreen]

Toby's heart had started to pound when he agreed to steak. A real, actual restaurant. Was there not some kind of dress code? Would people notice he didn't belong there? Would he behave wrong, and embarrass both of them?

Quickly he tried to quit overthinking the whole thing and focused on keeping up with Gerry. It was hard to hold onto a steady pace walking anywhere around town. His eyes were always darting around, scanning for danger. He also had an unshakeable tendency to scan every street and sidewalk for dropped change or anything else of even the smallest value. Still, he kept Gerry in his peripheral vision, even if he fell behind now and then.

He noticed Gerry pause and let him catch up. Gerry. A safe place, for now. Safety - something he still wasn't sure he could trust to last. Nothing good ever lasted, but he could try to take advantage while he could. He'd already made up his mind to eat his dinner as slowly as possible, even though his innate drive told him to eat as much as he could as quickly as he could while it was available, like a bear loading up for hibernation.

Would he be taking advantage of Gerry? Should he? He hadn't had any qualms about taking food from him thus far, but it seemed there was more than food on the table now. And something had changed today. Something deep and indefinable. He wasn't used to thinking about other people as 'real people', considering how they felt, giving a fuck. But he'd been deeply, horrendously upset about what Gerry's wife had done to him, and that wasn't going away anytime soon. Hurting on behalf of another person felt nice in a weird, paradoxical way. It was a grim and visceral unexpected satisfaction, like enjoying a horror movie or a tragedy, or pressing on a bruise and feeling that dull ache over and over.

If he became a person who would hurt Gerry, that would ruin everything. There would be no satisfaction in it. He knew he wasn't a good person, but no way would he be like Andrea. No way. He had this strange instinct to protect and preserve Gerry, like the time he'd found an injured mouse in the apartment when he was very young, and tried to nurse it back to health in a little shoebox until his mom had found it, freaked out, and tossed the box down the trash chute. Not this time, though - he wouldn't let his mother or anyone else ruin this.

He reached out and, for a few moments, held onto Gerry's sleeve, the way a small child might, a tiny, instinctive gesture just to stay close. He almost smiled - it didn't quite make it all the way, but the edges of his mouth twitched, imparting an unaccustomed softness to his features for a few moments.

"Do you think people will think you're my dad?" he asked quietly. "Or my uncle, or my grandpa? It's okay if they do. We could play along, if you wanted. No one would think it was weird then, yunno? Us... eating together. Lying isn't always bad, right?"

 

[ericrodman101]

"Enough with the grandpa!" Gerry laughed. "If you want to pretend I'm your Uncle that's just fine. It's not even lying. Just play acting."

He walked on at a steady pace, Toby keeping up and gently tugging at his sleeve now and then. Pretending they were related. Where the fuck did that come from? But then, was it a surprise? Toby's file told Gerry enough to know the kid's home life was about as messy as it got. Did he even know his father? And the mother...well, junkie and whore just about covered her. Not that those were the official terms.

It was the speed with which Gerry spoke which surprised him. All the mental hand wringing and prevarication about whether he should be doing what he was doing. Yet Toby mentions grandpa, and Gerry speaks without a moment's hesitation. Do I look like a grandpa?

The Depot Steakhouse would be fine for a meal. It wasn't expensive so there was no need to dress up. The food was good and the lighting dim. In the back of his mind Gerry was a little concerned about bumping into someone he knew. Not a teacher. It was the wrong side of the tracks for that. No, a student. But then, Toby had been at Fillmore for less than a week, and not much of that in class. No Central High would be the problem. Uncle would have to do if they were challenged.

"If anyone asks, call me Uncle Gerry. OK?"

Toby nodded. But once Gerry had said it, the whole uncle thing sounded exceptionally sleazy. For all he knew, Toby was used to uncles, both the biological and the causal acquaintance kind who showed an interest in....Gerry couldn't avoid saying it to himself...teenage boys. Toby was eighteen so in that respect everything was above board. But still...

 

[tamgreen]

Toby loved how he called it play acting, rather than lying. It made it seem so fun and carefree, like they were two buddies, a couple of kids just goofing off. But it had obviously been a number of decades since Gerry was a kid, and Toby... had he ever really been one?

Uncle Gerry.

Toby's heart raced. Why was that so exciting? Why did it thrill him?

"Okay... Uncle Gerry," he spoke up, smirking.

Fuck. It was actually turning him on. Why? How fucked up was his head that this was a turn-on?

"Uncle Gerry," he said again, slowly, and softly, tasting the words on his tongue. Savouring them, the way he intended to savour his steak.

His first uncle. His first steak. His first... cuddle. All in one day. Toby chewed on his bottom lip, trying to keep himself from grinning.

"So... do we need more backstory? In case anyone asks follow-up questions?" he asked, his eyes glinting with amusement.

 

[ericrodman101]

Toby called him 'Uncle Gerry' and smirked. Always the guidance counsellor Gerry wondered if Toby ever acted before, or had any interest in it. Might be a better way to get him back on track than math and English, he thought. Which thinking only caused him another pang of guilt, walking through the night with an 18 year old on what was ostensibly a date.

When Toby called him 'Uncle Gerry' a second time, seeming to roll the words round his mouth like something juicy and forbidden, Gerry took a long hard look at the kid. Toby was chewing his bottom lip to stop from grinning, Gerry surmised.

"...do we need more backstory....?"

Gerry stopped on the sidewalk now, making sure they weren't under a street lamp.

"You're really getting off on this uncle thing," he said. "Do you have an uncle, Toby? Or any older man in your life? Maybe he could be the backstory."

 

[tamgreen]

Toby was curious about the question and tried to examine Gerry's face, though they were standing in shadows. Did the man want to know more about him, or was this a counsellor thing?

Either way, Toby decided he was okay just being honest.

"Nah," he replied, shrugging. "Well, technically I had an uncle once, a long time ago, but I never knew him and he OD'd when I was really little. I also had grandparents once, but they're dead too. I lived with them for a little while... longer ago than I can remember much of. It was 'cause my mom was in rehab or jail or something at the time. So... not much fun for play acting. I'd rather pretend something that's not like my life at all."

A distinct grumbling noise broke the brief silence that followed, and Toby realized it was his stomach. He chuckled sheepishly and rubbed it.

"Is it much further?"

 

[ericrodman101]

They came to the railroad tracks. The old depot, now a steakhouse, lay ahead. Gerry pondered Toby's story, so tragic yet told matter-of-factly. For a kid like Toby, tragedy and loss and deprivation were the constants in his life. It was the people who came and went. And now, he was passing Toby in the night.

Gerry so wanted to ask more. OD'd? Dead grandparents? Rehab or jail? 'I'd rather pretend something that's not like my life at all.'

Gerry pushed open the door and Toby followed. The restaurant was nearly Friday night full. Half blinded by the light, Gerry looked about for familiar faces, wondering how furtive he looked. They stood by the door waiting to be seated, Gerry with his face down, Toby all wide-eyed and inquisitive. The waitress showed them to a two seater near the bathrooms. Gerry was grateful to be at the back, even if there would be a steady stream of foot traffic. He took the seat with his back to the room, and pointed Toby towards the other chair by the window.

So now I'm feeding you, Gerry thought. What then? No matter how hard he tried to make his mind go somewhere else, he was consumed by what he was doing. His motives. When he reviewed recent events as a participant, it was all about his pleasure at finding Toby around when he felt down, being held by the boy, getting hard, feeling needed. And when he tried to think dispassionately like a counsellor, well...he felt like a sleazebag. If a student came to him with a story about some guy they'd known for a week who let them call him uncle and failed to suppress and then hide an erection while they were nursed on his lap, Gerry would be duty bound to call the authorities. He couldn't find any excuses, any extenuating circumstances for what he was doing. And planning to do? Did he have a plan? Or was he making it up as he went along.

'Mr Metzler, did you plan all along to lure the boy into your clutches, to gain his trust and then have sexual intercourse?' Gerry could hear the lawyers questioning him in court even as he sat in the dim restaurant, gazing at Toby across the table, watching the kid take in the unfamiliar surroundings as if it was his first visit to such a place. And maybe it was. Just try not to think about what might happen, Gerry told himself. Once Toby has a bellyful of steak, you'll go your separate ways. You don't know the first thing about gay sex, and even if you did, Toby will be repulsed at any advances you make, there'll be a scene, the police will become involved, you'll be a bigger failure than you are already.

But even as the waitress appeared with ice water and menus, Gerry was remembering his college experience with the Korean student, the one time he was attracted to another man, and another man to him. It wasn't intercourse. They didn't fuck. But it was experience. And maybe before things went too far he should spend a little time boning up watching gay porn.... boning up! At his own pun he choked on the ice water and spat onto the table.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby's eyes raked over the interior of the restaurant, and all the faces of the normal, everyday people eating their big, gorgeous meals as if this were a normal, everyday activity. Maybe it was, for them - maybe these were people who could afford to eat meals like this whenever they wanted. He practically leered at every plate he saw, and for a few moments his eyes seemed to turn dark, like a shark smelling blood in the water, as if he might turn feral and leap on someone else's table to grab their food.

But he didn't have to fight for a meal today. Perhaps tomorrow, things would go right back to normal, but today, he didn't have to fight. What a strange, surreal, thrilling turn of events. How long could he make it last? If he was nice, he mused as he started to review the menu, would good things keep happening?

Toby glanced up at Gerry over the menu, remembering how it had felt to be in his lap, and especially to feel that hardness beneath his ass. Could that happen again? Would Gerry allow it? Did the older man just want to get off, or was there something specific about Toby that had caused this reaction? The latter seemed unlikely to Toby, but then again, there was that weird moment with that guy at his mom's apartment...

You've got your mommy's mouth. You suck a dick as good as your mom does? Twenty bucks a pop to start.

Maybe the guy had actually been serious. Maybe there was something he was good at, something that could make a man happy. Would he suck Gerry's dick? He definitely wouldn't ask for money for it, though. Would Gerry want that? Would it make him happy? What a thought.

Then Gerry was choking on his water. Fuck - had he read Toby's mind? Toby turned a little red and set his menu aside.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" he whispered, leaning over the table.

 

[ericrodman101]

"Mmmm, OK," Gerry coughed, embarrassed and quite pleased with the pun at the same time.

Toby was leaning over the table, his face showing genuine interest and concern. It felt good for someone to be interested and not just going through the motions. That was the trouble with thirty years in the same job, reaching middle age...and being married to the same person? Was that a fair assessment? Gerry wasn't blaming Andrea. Not for an instant. The way he thought of himself so critically and the regard he had for his wife's skills, it always amazed Gerry she hadn't found someone better before. A better husband. A better companion. A better fuck.

"Have you made a selection? No? Well, let's make up our minds, and we'll order. And then you can tell more about your family. Your mother. And your father..."

 

[tamgreen]

Toby relaxed back in his seat and flicked his eyes between the menu and the counsellor sitting across from him. How strange it was, he realized all of a sudden, to be with a school authority figure outside of school. None of this seemed quite real.

He let out a monosyllabic laugh at the mention of a father, and then let silence settle over the table as he seemed to very carefully study the dinner selections. Not that study got him anywhere - he didn't know one steak from another, and had no idea what to choose. Maybe just the cheapest one?

"I never had a dad," he finally murmured, still looking at the menu. "Well... obviously I had one. I understand biology. But like... yunno. Who the fuck knows?"

He furrowed his brow and, for a few moments, raised the menu as if to form a wall between himself and the older man.

"Would you... order for me?" he finally spoke up in a near whisper. "I don't really know what's what."

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry saw the furrowed brow peeking over the raised menu and smiled. For a kid who'd been done no favours by the world, Toby had a strangely sweet and endearing nature. It was probably a lack of experience of any of the social graces, Gerry thought. Yes, social graces. It sounded so old fashioned and so apposite.

And as Toby tried to hide his shyness and inexperience Gerry had a vision of the boy as a model. Maybe that was something to aim at. Modelling. It was a little late to think about helping him become a scholar. Maybe Toby had some manual aspirations, who knew? But modelling was something anyone with the right looks and physique, and patience could do. Patience would be Toby's downfall, Gerry thought. But two out of three...

"Order for you? Sure." Gerry called to the waitress. "Two ribeyes...how hungry are you?" Toby nodded and smiled. "Yes, two ribeyes, medium, baked potatoes. Do you like vegetables? Peas? Carrots? All the vegetables, thanks. And two sugar free cokes."

The waitress took the order and left. Gerry watched Toby lower the menu and place it back, standing between the salt and pepper and the condiments. Do you like vegetables? So much for pretending they were uncle and nephew? It sounded nearly as clunky as asking 'do you come here often?'

"So your mother never talked about your dad?" The question just came out, as if Gerry wasn't a trained psychologist with years of experience making young people feel comfortable. He wanted to know, of course, but Jesus! Talk about taking the plunge. It was a first date sort of question, he realised. First date....

 

[tamgreen]

Vegetables. Who had ever tried to feed him vegetables? Maybe his grandparents, a long time ago. He shrugged in ambivalence, having not strong feelings about vegetables either way - if they were on his plate, he'd eat them. But he liked that Gerry made sure they would be on his plate. Giving a fuck if he ate well was the sort of parenting he'd always missed out on.

Not that Gerry was a parent to him. Fuck - did Toby actually see him that way? Did he want to see him that way, especially after hopping into his lap and getting a hard-on? There was a lot Toby was missing in his life, a lot he craved, whether or not he was entirely aware of it, and Gerry seemed to be personifying all of those missing bits at once, for better or for worse. If it was fucked up, Toby decided he didn't care.

Then the guy was asking about his dad again. It made his heart skip a beat. He couldn't hide behind his menu now. He folded his hands on the table and stared down at them. Usually when this question came up he wormed his way out of a straight answer, the same way his mom always had. Today, though, he wanted to talk.

"No," he replied, still looking at his hands. "I asked a few times, when I was little. She'd just kinda laugh and brush me off, or tell me not to worry about it because I didn't need no dad. But when I was old enough to know I musta' had one, I was also old enough to know what she was like, and I always figured she probably doesn't even know who he is."

He finally looked up, curious to see Gerry's reaction. Would he think this was some tragedy to feel pity over? Or was it just a common story he heard every day?

"She's got knocked up a few more times," Toby added softly, not really knowing why he was volunteering this information. Word vomit.

"She just... can't stay sober. None of 'em made it. Or she got rid of 'em. I dunno. She disappears a lot. I don't ask. Guess I got 'lucky', if you can call it that. But it's pretty obvious why I'm a moron and always will be."

 

[ericrodman101]

It was the longest speech Gerry had heard Toby make. All twenty seconds of it. So not long, but full of information and emotion and pathos. And ending with his declaration he was a moron and always would be. How to respond? Gerry opened his mouth to speak several times, and closed it again. Nothing seemed worthy of this tragic litany. If only people had to pass an exam or a physical to have children.

"You're not a moron," Gerry said eventually. The words he chose still seemed inadequate, but it was a beginning. "For a start you speak eloquently, so your mother or your teachers or someone in your life taught you, or presented an example for you to follow. And maybe you did get lucky. That's great. Make the most of it. You're eighteen. Six months of senior high to go and then you get society's great gift. The door of childhood slammed in your face. Think of how many people your age get the shock of their lives when that happens. But for you Toby, you've seen it all, you've been dealt crap hands and you've played them, the door's been slammed in your face many times I bet and you've carried on regardless. It hasn't always worked out. It hasn't always been forward progress. But you're still here and you're eating ribeye steak at the Depot. With me."

Gerry took a breath and then a sip of water

"And I'm glad about that."