Chapter 12: Ice Cream Love

Chapter 12

Eros Dylan Donovan

Ice Cream Love

Taking a big gulp of the cappuccino, my eyes scan the paperwork I need to do. Geraldin, Max, Hero, and the whole police team are working furiously over this damn case.

At least I have my coffee, I think.

It's still morning, but the warm breeze invades the place, making it hot inside the room. There's no room for A/C. Oh, only the head room has that.

Wiping off the sweat that is forming on my forehead and neck, I sigh in frustration as I think of what to do. Being a cop is a tough job, but it's all worth it. When I was a kid, I had this huge obsession about cartoons that had cop in it. Mostly they were the main characters. And I admired them. And then I swore and promised to my family that I would be a cop. My dad and I used to watch 'Assassin'. It had four seasons. It was all about cops dealing with crimes and villains. The main character, Porter, was really a bad-ass. He always wore a military pants. I swore he was more of a soldier than a cop. But he considered himself a cop, since he's stationed in a police station. Porter was like an NBI. Even if he wasn't his business, he would make it as his business. The main plot of it was... Of course, about crime. There was going on behind the President's back. I mean, literally the President of USA. Drugs and all. So Porter did some investigation about it, and soon, he had been caught in the mess he went in. He was the target. He became a terrorist. But Porter wouldn't give up. He fought back. In the end, he found out that the policemen had to do with it. They were covering the behind-the-scenes of dirty little USA. And at the end, dirty secrets had been exposed. President shot him. President got in jail. Porter died.

The ending sucks though.

Dad and I were really messed up at that time. We had watched the four seasons, and in the end, he died? Holy shit. Who does that? Brat directors.

Good to know that I have company.

Those other cops are sweating also, and they keep wiping it with their towels. Electric fans are off. Or it's brownout. Whatever. I really don't know the story. All I know is that when I got here, everything is the way that it shouldn't be.

Hot. Lots of paperwork. Everyone is kind of mean. Hot. Hot. Hot.

"Jeez," Max mutters with annoyance, "is it me or is it really hot?"

"The sun is being a bitch," Geraldin just simply says without giving a spare of glance at Max's direction. He probably doesn't care about him. That or the weather has really gotten into him. "And those goddamn electric fans, why they are not working?"

I just casually shrug. They didn't look though. But I did shrug.

"Hey, are we invited to the wedding?" Hero asks me, looking up at me as he clips the papers.

I haven't had the chance to talk about that with my dear. She just brushed our wedding off. Something must be up. But I have to trust her. The weirdest part is, part of me is happy that I'm not going to get married. The tiniest part is sad. Except that, I'm all smiles.

They must have seen it because they give me all a grin. And I give them a frown.

"The wedding has been called off," I say rather happily than annoyed. They look at me with a confused look on their faces, waiting me to say I'm kidding. But I am not. "Really, guys. The wedding has been called off. It isn't going to happen for now. My dear and I, we're having troubles financially and a little bit of family problem. So we must save a money first before we lash out the money for something that can wait."

"You really are not kidding, are you?" Geraldin mumbles, eyes wide. "That must be sad."

"I am not," I say.

"He is not," Hero agrees, nodding as he continues to clip the papers.

The boss comes in our room and inspects us, taking a loot at what we're doing. Well, he could just join us instead of ogling the paperwork. That would be much appreciated. He does look only at the paperwork. Every now and then, he would just come in the room to inspect what we are doing. It's not like we're not going to do our work or something. I mean, we're pretty much hooked on what we are doing so we don't have time to chatter. Lots to do. Lots to work.

Ah, finally.

The work has ended. There are still paperwork, but it's not much anymore. Brad and my dear have went to small, and they are not coming back until 9pm. She said she would like to take Brad in a mall and they would go out to a place I don't know. She's been great to us. I'll have my house by myself. And Mike. Mike will be in the house as well.

I'm thrilled.

Stopping at an ice cream store, I head inside and decide I should buy one. I'm craving for icr creams ever since the weather got really hot. My throat is longing for a cold sweet. I inspect the ice cream store.

It is one of those typical ice cream stores. Light blue and white tiles on the floor, light blue container, where the ice creams are in, is on the corner. Across from it is the ice cream maching. For cones. There are three to four mirrors per wall. And there are so many walls. It's creeping me out. I inspect what would be the best, what would satisfy my cravings, and I decide that I should buy Rocky road. Rocky road is good. Brad will like it. He loves sweet. He loves chocolates.

I wonder what Mike likes.

Shaking my head, I pick up the 2.5 gallon Rocky road ice cream and go over the counter to pay. I fish out my wallet in my back pocket and pull out a money and hand it to the teenager guy, who has an eye glasses and is wearing a typical uniform for ice cream vendors. Light blue apron, white shirt, a light blue cap with a logo of the store right in the center. The guy is skinny and looking bored as hell. He takes the money and gives me immediately the change without saying a thank you or something. I hear a voice though. From another person. A familiar one. His voice is deep and I frown immediately. I don't like that tone of voice. I give it a shrug and don't mind it. I think he's inside the room. At the back of this skinny man, there is a room. It doesn't have a door. Only light blue curtains. God, what's with the color light blue?

He puts the ice cream in a plastic and hands it to me without a care. I give him a glare and he shivers. God. Rude.

He must have sensed that I'm still looking at him because he gulps and go inside the room behind him.

Opening the door, the eerie silence of the house greets me. I'm used to the silence. Before my dear, before they came into my life, the empty, lifeless house always greeted me with open arms. So I'm used to it. Brad was the only source of noise at that time. But most of the day, he was silent. Mostly because he would love to play his toys rather than making a noise. He loved playing his toy cars. But then Mike came. And they always have fun. Brad's toys, he rarely gives them attention now that he has a playing buddy.

I would love to play with him.

That sounds wrong.

But then I think I'm just overreacting. Overthinking.

I head to the kitchen and place the 2.5 gallon Rocky road ice cream on the table, not bothering to put it inside the fridge since sooner or later, I will dig it and shove it into my mouth. And I like it liquid rather than what most people like. Frozen. I don't like it frozen. That's why I'm letting it melt.

Deciding that I should take a shower first before digging in, I go to my room and immediately take off the uniform that I've been wanting to tear off my body because of the weather. As soon as I'm in the bathroom, I open the shower and letting it soak my body. My body immediately relaxes as the cold water cascades down my body. I take off the lid of the liquid soap and pour a little on my body. Then I run my palms up and down throughout my body and the bubbles are starting to form. I am a kid at heart.

As soon as I'm done taking a bath, I just pick clothes in my closet and just wear them carelessly. The ice cream is waiting for me. That only matters. This is the real break I wan. Free of anything. Even for awhile.

I get a spoon and take the ice cream with me in the living room. I turn on the TV and switch channels after channels. I haven't found what I like so I decide to watch a movie. I turn on the DVD and get the Fast and Furious 6 DVD and put it inside the player and in seconds, the movie is on a roll. I probably look like a kid right now, but I don't care. In the mid of the movie, someone enters the house and I don't pay much attention to it. I just keep my eyes glued to the television, too caught up of what's happening. There are lots of cars and actions. And I swear the ice cream is liquid now. Like, liquid liquid. Like a water.

"What are you watching?" I freeze. The voice belongs to Mike. He then takes a sit beside me and I barely acknowledge him. I feel my body tensed up as he presses his skin onto mine. "Can I have, too?" And I look down at him, unsure of what to say or what to do. He must have taken a wrong impression because he frowns and says, "Fine, if you don't like it. Just answer."

I quickly state, "No!" It's more of a shout than a state. Giving him the ice cream gallon and the spoon that I have used, he grins and gets it from my hands. "I like it liquid. Hope you don't mind."

"I do not," he says as he shoves a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. He moans in satisfaction and contentment and I nearly groan out loud. "I like ice creams better when they are liquid, or sort of liquid."

He and I share the same weirdness.

We watch the movie in silence while eating the ice cream that I have bought. I should have bought two. One for us. One for Brad. I have to get rid of this, or else if Brad sees this gallon of ice cream empty, he would throw tantrums. And I'm willing to risk if it means I'm going to share this ice cream with Mike.

After the movie, as the credit rolls on, I hear Mike sigh beside me and I take a look at him. Mel and Brad will not come back till 9pm. We still have two hours.

When Mike looks at me, I have to smile. He has this dried Rocky road ice cream on the edge of his lips. And he has a rocky road mustache. That means he drank the liquid ice cream even if it's in a gallon.

I'm about to take it off of his lips when he parts his lips and his breath hitches. Then my eyes go straight into his wide eyes and our eyes hold to each other. He's chest is heaving up and down very fast and he's slightly shaking. He bites his lips and my eyes flicker down to it. He's biting it hard and it's about to bleed. My eyes rake his body and I swear I feel a tug down there.

Mike pries his eyes away from me and looks anywhere but me. He gives his lower lip a lick, trying to take off the dried ice cream on the edge.

That's when I lean down and press my lips against his.

Part of me says I should stop this. But most of the part, they are telling me to go on. So I do. My heart is beating rapidly against my rib-cage and this new feeling is eating me, devouring me with all its might. My palm rests on his hips and my lips move hungrily. This hunger and longing I'm feeling is not normal. Not even close to it. But I continue anyway.

So I just keep kissing him even though he's not responding.