Adopted - Peterick

  I've been told I'm not the most conventional of people, but even I know there's something not right about being attracted to your father.
  Okay, he isn't my father exactly, but it's the same basic principle. Two years ago, a man named Pete and his wife, Ashlee, adopted me, when I was fifteen. They didn't want to conceive their own child, intent on making a difference in someone else's life; I happened to be that lucky person. Childhood had been unfairly daunting, with family deaths and me moving around constantly until I was left in an orphanage. The feeling of rejection was overpowering, though I kept reminding myself that there were people far worse off than me. Alone and isolated, I'd given up hope of ever being part of a true family.
  However, things started to change a few months later, and in a flurry of excitement and newly discovered physical contact, I went to live with Pete and Ashlee. They meant everything to me. Sometimes, I was treated like a child, but I didn't mind so much as I'd never been treated that way before. I stopped freezing whenever they touched me after a while, and even longed for the contact. Ashlee would touch me in a motherly way; a warming hug whenever it was necessary, stroking my hair to calm me when I was sad. By some of Pete's behaviour, I wasn't sure if he knew how to be a father, exactly.
  Sometimes, we'd watch films together, and he'd shift up close to me, taking my arm in both of his and holding onto my hand while his head rested on my shoulder. I was sure that wasn't entirely appropriate, but wouldn't do anything, just enjoying the feeling of him being so close. Sometimes, when we were eating at a table, his leg would brush against mine without him even seeming to notice. For a man eleven years my senior, he could be so naïve and child-like.
  It was about two years later that things really started to change.
  Valentine's day; the single day in which most suicides are comitted and most chocolates are sold to people desperately attempting to woo another, or prove that they are still in a relationship. I hardly find it appealing, but now seemed like a good time to try and thank Pete and Ashlee for how much they'd done for me. Thanks to them, I felt like I had a home, finally accepted.
  Nervously, I knocked on their bedroom door, reasonably confident that they'd be awake.
  "Come in, 'Trick!" I heard Pete call, and so timidly opened the door.
  My eyes widened in shock. He was topless. Haha. Topless. Without a shirt. Heh, that's a lot of tattoos. I wonder if he's wearing pants? I tried desperately to snap myself out of these thoughts.
  "Come join us," he said, budging to the edge of the bed and patting a space between him and Ashlee.
  Okay, seriously, who asks their seventeen-year-old son (practically) to join them in bed on Valentine's day? While being topless or maybe naked at the same time? Biting down on my lip briefly, I clambered onto the bed and was relieved to see that Pete was wearing pants as he pulled back the duvet for me to get under. Sandwiched between him and Ashlee, I felt him put an arm around my shoulder.
  "What's that you've got?" Ashlee asked, referring to an envelope I had clasped between my hands.
  "Well, I, uh, I just wanted to thanks you guys for being so great and being there for me, so I got you these."
  I held the envelope out in front of me and Pete snatched it excitedly, ripping it open and squealing in delight as he discovered its contents.
  "Oh my God, how did you get these tickets? They were impossible to find!"
  "Not if you know where and when to look."
  He tossed the concert tickets to Ashlee and then proceeded to plant a large kiss on my cheek.
  "Pete, don't be so forward," Ashlee scolded half-heartedly.
  "Y'know I love you, right?" Pete asked me.
  I smiled awkwardly and looked away from his eyes.
  "It's next week. I hope you both have fun."
  Still with a gleeful expression on his face, he pulled me into a hug, which Ashlee soon joined in with.
  "Thanks so much," he whispered.
  I nodded slightly, relaxing into this strange embrace after I calmed down about the fact that he was still topless. Well, perhaps I didn't calm all the way down, but I managed not to embarrass myself too much. Pete thought it was cute when I got all flustered, anyway. No, wait; I was supposed to be getting a grip on these thoughts! He was practically my father, but one of the only people who had ever loved me. Sure, this love may be a little unconventional, but it was all I had. With that in mind, I smiled as I felt the tingling his kiss had left on my cheek.

  Next week, on the morning of Pete and Ashlee's concert, I awoke to the sound of someone being violently sick and an incessant rapping on my door.
  "What?" I grumbled, disgruntled.
  My door burst open and Pete ran in, launching himself on top of me in the most inappropriate way, shaking my shoulders desperately.
  "'Triiiiiick," he whined. "Ashlee won't stop being sick. She said she felt ill last night, but I think she's got morning sickness. Fuck, 'Trick, what am I gonna do? I don't want a baby; you're the only kid I need. If she's pregnant... 'Triii-"
  Managing to be rational at this time in the morning, I clamped my hand over his mouth to shut him up. I normally wouldn't touch his mouth, but I wasn't quite awake yet. Realising that my hand had been covering his mouth for too long, and that his gaze was becoming way more intense that it should have been, I dropped my hand, and forced him to pay attention to me.
  "Pete, have you been using protection?"
  "Of course I have! But that doesn't always work, y'know, and-"
  "Has she missed any periods?"
  "We don't talk about that stuff. She's still been damn pissy, though, so-"
  "Pete, calm down. She's probably got the flu or food poisoning or something. It happens. And with morning sickness, I don't think you feel ill the night before. Maybe you should be with her now."
  He sighed, nodding in agreement.
  "You're right, Patrick. I was probably just over-reacting. Thanks. You always calm me down when I get like this. Just... Thank you."
  I nodded, thoroughly shocked as he practically came down on me, practically lying on top of me, giving me some sort of hug. This didn't feel like the best position when I still had wood. Awkwardly, I reciprocated his hug, not clinging too tightly in case it was considered inappropriately intimate. After a while, he sat up slightly, pressing a kiss to my cheek; that went right to my groin, fucker.
  Pete's eyes suddenly seemed to light up, before a mischievous grin spread across his face.
  "Want help with that little problem? Or maybe it's a big problem; I don't know..."
  My eyes widened in pure horror. Oh no, you did not just say that. My initial response would have been, "why don't you come and find out?" but my levels of confidence would never allow it.
  "Agh, no thanks!"
  "You're so cute when you're all embarrassed like that," he said, a more serious tone in his voice.
  "Go to Ashlee!"
  I tried to shove him off me, while he laughed gently but without humour.
  "I always do in the end," he murmured, leaning down and kissing the end of my nose; that was not fatherly, damnit!
  Fortunately, he climbed off me after that, waving from the doorway and scampering off to Ashlee. As soon as he was gone, I curled up into myself, cringing and groaning with embarrassment. What the hell? And that, just then, that was definitely an awkward moment. Who the hell does that? Especially when they're married and their wife is puking in the other room? But then, with Pete, all logic seemed to go to shit.

  "Pete, I don't think I'm going to be able to come with you tonight."
  Ashlee was lying in her bed, pale and shivering, speaking to Pete with regret. I was in the room as well, generally trying to help as much as I could, but Ashlee wasn't getting better any time soon.
  "I think it's one of those twenty-four hour things, so I'll probably be better tomorrow."
  "Then... I'll stay here with you."
  "No, don't. If I need help, I could phone Jess. And I know how much this concert means to you. You should take Patrick with you."
  "Are you sure? What if something happens?"
  "Nothing bad will happen. I promise. I'll be fine; look, I have TV, a book, the phone's right here and I don't have to go far to get to the toilet. I'll probably just be sleeping. Just go with Patrick; I know you'll have a great time."
  I noticed that it took a lot less persuading than it should have done to get Pete to take me to the concert instead; in fact, he had perked up considerably by the time we were due to leave.
  "G'bye, Ashlee!" he shouted up the stairs as we were about to leave, and I'm sure she tried her best to reply (unless she'd been asleep; if so, Pete's voice was certainly loud enough to wake her).
  I cringed noticeably as Pete opened the door of his car for me, closing it once I was seated; surely this was completely unnecessary. However, he seemed to show pride in his actions, and was grinning as he sat behind the steering wheel (did he ever do this for Ashlee?).
  I'm sure the duration of the car journey was comfortable for him, but I would have to disagree. I swear, at every traffic light, Pete was leering at me. I'd meet his gaze, trying to make him stop, but he'd just grin and keep staring until I told him the light was on green. Didn't he know how self-conscious I could be? I suppose some of those insecurities came from a broken childhood, but it was hard not to be intimidated when an insanely attractive older man was looking you up and down. Frequently.
  "'Trick! We're here!" he announced gleefully as we pulled up near the venue. "It's so small! We'll get so close. This is going to be so awesome!"
  I nodded in agreement, because this was going to be awesome. I liked Pete's taste in music, and had been considering buying a third ticket for myself, but wanted it to be something special for him and Ashlee. Oops. That plan had failed. But I knew tonight would be fun. Although my brain was telling me that I shouldn't have wanted to be alone with Pete so desperately, my heart (and lower regions) was telling me otherwise. What's the worst thing that could happen? Pete was evidently aware of my little crush (more like big problem) and liked rubbing it in for his own amusement. I didn't find what he was doing cruel, just something he'd typically do.
  We grabbed some food before the doors opened, and when we got inside, the band started surprisingly fast. Me and Pete had found a good spot near the front of the mosh pit, but when the first few notes were plucked by the lead guitarist, the whole crowd seemed to push forwards, pushing us much too close together, but it didn't seem to matter, because everyone was merging together, becoming one almost in admiration for the playing band. For such a small mosh pit, the crowd got surprisingly rowdy, and I had to clutch Pete's hand to prevent myself from getting separated from him; we'd have found each other in the end, but it just felt better to be close to him like this. When would I get this sort of chance again? Besides, I wouldn't have wanted to inconvenience people by pushing them to get to Pete (well, I'd be reluctant to do that, but Pete wouldn't)...
  It smelt so different here, so raw, so good. Well, okay, it smelt like sweat and smoke, but there was something in the air which was arousing. We were all the same here, nobody judging, and it just gave me courage. Maybe people around me had noticed this as well, as some were attempting to get over the barrier and climb onto the stage (which wouldn't have been that difficult), and others were attempting to crowd surf, not caring if they'd get kicked out by security. Everyone felt free.
  "'Trick! They're finishing with my favourite song!" he yelled to me over the loud roaring of the small crowd.
  Even though I was hot and sweaty, and probably looking dreadful, I didn't protest when Pete put both arms around me from my left, clenching his hands together on my right hip. Mildly surprised at my own confidence, I mirrored him, fitting my head in the area between his neck and shoulder, content when he rested his head on mine. The song was slow but heavy, and the whole mosh pit was swaying from side to side with the steady rhythm. I looked into Pete's eyes, seeing pure joy and passion as he sang along with the frontman of the band. Just once, I'd like him to look at me like that.
  "Thank you, Chicago, you've been fucking awesome."
  With a final smile at the crowd, the band left the stage and the house lights came on.
  "Patrick, that was amazing!" Pete exclaimed, still clinging on to me. He pulled me closer for a better hug. "Thank you so much for getting tickets for this. I've had such a good time; it wouldn't have been the same without you."
  "Don't mention it," I mumbled, still confident enough to keep my arms tight around him.
  He pulled back a bit, staring into my eyes with that joyful expression still on his face, and my heartrate increased uncontrollably. I felt my eyes well up with tears, praying he wouldn't notice. If he did, then his smile didn't falter as he dipped his head forward and met his lips with mine. My first reaction was to remain stiff, trying to take in what was happening. This wasn't right; he was practically my father! But why did this feel so right?
  I told my brain to shut up, relaxing my body and pressing my lips back against his; it was a good thing he was persistent and hadn't pulled away yet. He faltered at feeling my response, but I just kept kissing him, opening my mouth as his tongue poked at my bottom lip. I groaned and tightened my grip on him, feeling a few of those tears slip from my eye, down my cheek and probably his. I was only vaguely aware of a fangirl squee (I knew what one of those was?) as Pete's hold became more protective, though not entirely innocent as his hand slid up the back of my T-shirt the slightest bit, not even past my waist. I shivered, having never been touched like that before, and found myself giving an involuntary whine as Pete gently pulled his lips from mine, pecking them a final time before resting his forehead against mine.
  "Looks like this isn't a little problem after all. At least it's reciprocated..."
  "Pete, I love you," I choked out, surely using up my last bit of confidence.
  He sighed. "I know. I love you too, 'Trick. But you already knew that, right?"
  "Your gestures have hardly been fatherly these past couple of years," I replied, laughing faintly.
  "Was I really that obvious?"
  I nodded, a smile finding its way onto my face.
  "Damn. Why didn't you say anything?"
  "Didn't have the confidence."
  "It seems you're getting past that."
  I shrugged, smiling wider because he was smiling as well.
  "Maybe we should be going now... Unless you wanna detour to a hotel..."
  I blushed furiously, shaking my head. Like he'd actually ask that. I was way too self-conscious to accept. What if I wasn't good enough? Too ugly, too geeky, not really appealing to him?
  "Calm down! I was only joking! Well, I wasn't. Okay, I was joking about the hotel, but I still wanna... y'know... You're so beautiful, 'Trick."
  Was he trying to make my head erupt into a burning ball of flames? The fire was being moistened by my tears of I don't know what exactly, but Pete didn't ask, only wiped them away and kissed where they had left trails.
  "C'mon, we'd better get home. We've got some explaining to do."
  "We're so screwed."
  I could tell Pete refrained from making a joke, instead choosing to kiss my lips once more and take my hand, leading us out of the arena towards a fate that wasn't looking very tempting. I knew it would only be the first battle in a string of many that could easily become normality. I found myself not caring as much as I usually might, because now I had someone to fight beside, someone worth fighting for. And hopefully he'd stick by me, making me strong enough to face up to the past, the present and the future, despite its troubles and turmoil. Yeah, it was going to be hard, but in the end, it would be so worth it.
  We're not the most conventional couple, but hey, what the hell is normal anyway?