22. CAKE

Today was T's birthday. He was sixteen already. They grow up so quick.

Those aren't my words. They're Joe's. He almost started crying after we finished watching football together. I can't imagine caring so much for a freaking birthday.

Now we were in the living room which we'd spent an hour decorating last night (using, yep, you guessed it: Halloween deco). We were waiting for T to come down the stairs so we could sing happy birthday. Ugh. I was embarrassed already.

We heard excited little footsteps on the stairs and Joe tapped my shoulder. He looked so excited. He was such a dad.

T came in wearing his PJs which consisted of a black graphic tee with some matching shorts covered in skulls and bones. His hair was fluffy and soft and not hard as a brick which it usually was.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," We sang together.

T began to smile.

"Happy birthday dear Timothy, happy birthday to you."

We both clapped and T just blushed and smiled.

Joe stepped forward and embraced his son. "Happy birthday, kid." He kissed the top of his head.

"Thanks, dad."

Joe held T's face in his hands. "I can't believe you're sixteen." He squeezed T's cheeks. "Come on! Go back! Get small again!"

"Daaaddd.." T whined.

They were so cute. I envied them a little.

"Alright, alright." Joe let him go and Timothy rubbed his cheek. He looked at me and I rolled my eyes before stepping forward.

"Yeah, happy birthday." I punched his arm.

"Thanks Josh."

Ugh! Don't say my name!

"Alright, time for presents." Joe went to the kitchen island. There was a pile of presents there.

"You didn't have to get me all this!"

"No. But I wanted to. Have fun opening them. I gotta get to work and after I'll go straight to my hotel." Joe winked at me. He was spending the night with the GF.

"Now. Be responsible. No alcohol, no drugs, no more than 20 people over, you hear me?"

T nodded.

"Okay, come here." Joe opened his arms.

T leaned into his hug.

"Have fun, kiddo."

"I will. Thanks, dad."

"Yep." Joe sighed. He looked nervous. Then he started squeezing T's head again. "Go back!"

"Dad!"

"Yes, yes.." He pulled away.

He punched my arm. "Have a good party."

"Have a nice night." I smiled.

Joe smiled back and waved before leaving.

The door closed and T began unwrapping his gifts.

"Does he always get you this much?"

"Yep. Every year. I keep telling him to dial it down but he just gets me more each year."

A card fell out of the first present.

T read it and smiled. He looked touched.

"What's it say?" I asked. T handed it to me.

You're sixteen already.

I'm so proud of you, kid. I knew you'd make it this far. You're so strong. I'm incredibly proud of you and mature as you are, I'm always here if you still need your daddy.

I love you, bud. Happy birthday,

Dad.

Even I was feeling a little sentimental. What a hero.

Timothy turned on some music. It was in the background but since it was mostly distorted guitars and screaming it just sounded like fucking white noise.

Timothy had unwrapped all his gifts. He was grateful and happy but he seemed most excited about the card which got a special place on his nightstand.

Now T was baking a cake which he'd told me was a ritual of his. The only problem was that he sucked at baking.

"That's way too much baking soda. It's going to taste like fucking soap." I said as I leaned on my hand.

"The recipe called for a tablespoon. I just eyeballed it."

"That's not a fucking tablespoon!"

"Are you sure?" T cocked his head and stared at the bowl.

"Are you stupid? That's like three times a tablespoon and you know you can't eyeball something when you never bake or cook!"

"I told you, this is a ritual! I do bake!"

"Yeah, once a year, doofus! And I doubt last year's cake was edible!"

"It was!"

I gave him a look.

"...Dad helped me."

I sighed and got up. "You're an idiot. Show me the recipe."

T shoved me a black cook book. It was supposed to turn out as a white chocolate-vanilla cake.

"Why the hell did you put the eggs in there?"

"Cause you're supposed to. Look." T pointed to the ingredient list.

"Wet and dry go separate, then you combine them in the end!"

"What does it matter?'

"Do you want lumps? How dumb are you?"

T looked at the recipe. "Oh.."

"Yeah, oh. Move over."

T stepped aside and I calculated how the recipe would turn out for three cakes. I grabbed a bigger bowl.

"Guess it'll be a two tier cake. One big one and a small one on top."

"You know how to make that?" T asked.

"It's not that hard. Give me the flour."

We were working together on making T's birthday cake. And I gotta admit. It was pretty fun. I never did anything for my birthday. My dad and I never made cake. I usually spent mine at Dave's and they ordered food in.

I was looking over T's shoulder as he began mixing the ingredients using a hand-mixer.

"Okay, now remember, do it slow-"

T turned the thing on at it's highest level and flour poofed up into the air.

"Do it slowly, you idiot!"

"I'm sorry!"

He could hardly hold the mixer as it was moving at trailblazing speed.

I grabbed his hand with my right and the bowl with my other and turned down the speed.

"I was going to say, you should do it slowly, see?"

T nodded. We were standing so close together. Our hands were touching. His hand was really soft. I knew mine was rough from all the football and stuff. I leaned closer and rubbed my chin against his hair.

"I'm glad you're here." He said suddenly.

I blushed. I was glad he couldn't see me.

"You're just lucky I'm saving your ass."

T chuckled. "That too."

My hand was getting sweaty. "Think you can hold it on your own now?"

"Sure." T said.

I let go and he held the mixer like a pro.

"Good. Now let's add the wet ingredients.."

I poured the mixture into the big bowl and T calmly kept mixing.

"That's right." I said and placed my hands on the table on either side of Timothy.

I leaned in and smelled his powdery scent.

The front door opened and I assumed it'd be Joe but to my dismay Fangs came into the room. Guess he had a secret spare key.

We were standing very close together. It looked awfully intimate, I was sure. And where I'd normally move and try to act straight I now stayed in position just to fuck him up.

"Hey babe!" T greeted happily.

"What the hell is this?" Charlie said.

T laughed. "We're baking the cake for tonight. Josh is practically a professional, can you believe it?"

Charlie nodded and stared at us some more. If looks could kill.

I smiled smugly.

"I was just going to get stuff for the party. Is there anything specific you want?" Charlie asked. He sounded so annoyed.

"Um.. No, not really. Josh?" T looked at me.

Charlie grimaced.

"Yeah. I have a few things. I'll make you a list."

"Or you could just take that list and ram it up your a-"

"You're not gonna fight on my birthday, are you?" T looked at us both.

Such a little peacemaker.

Charlie sighed. "Fine. Make your list. So long as we have beer it shouldn't matter."

"No beer. Joe's orders." I said.

"Oh, come on!" Charlie whined.

"Please?" Timothy said. He looked up at me with those huge eyes of his.

"Your dad said no alcohol!"

"Well, he doesn't have to know. Please, Josh?" Timothy grabbed my arm.

Argh! How can I so no to him when he's like this!?

Charlie rolled his eyes.

"Fine." I agreed.

T smiled.

"Whooptiedoo." Charlie said sarcastically. He made his way to us and dipped his finger in the cake mix. Then he stuck it into his mouth.

"There's raw eggs in there, retard."

"It's good!" He took another dip. "Mmm! Too bad about the baby chicks, though."

What a fucking moron.

"Anyway, happy birthday, babe." Charlie smiled, grabbing T's cheek. He leaned in and shoved his tongue down his throat like always.

"What the fuck! I'm right here!" I took a few steps back.

"You'll get your present later." Charlie said and kissed Timothy's cheek.

"I can't wait."

"I could really use your help carrying all those groceries." Charlie smiled.

Translation: Let's have car sex.

Vile.

T looked swayed for a moment but then he noticed the time on the clock. "Oh, I gotta get the house ready and change and stuff." T looked at me. "Josh, could you go with him?"

Are you fucking kidding me?

"I'll manage, babe." Charlie said.

"It's gonna be a lot to carry on your own and Josh also has a list. I'll finish the cake." T said.

"Fine." I sighed.

✪

The ride to the grocery store was awkward. And Fangs' car smelled like cancer.

"Do you like him or something?" Charlie said when we entered the grocery store.

"What?" I asked panicked.

"My boyfriend. The way you look at him is not platonic."

"Your mom's not platonic."

A your mom joke? Really?

Charlie looked at me. "You can't deny it. You're gay for him and no one blames you. Just keep your hands to yourself and we won't have problems."

Charlie continued down the isle and picked up a few bags of chips and popcorn.

"I'm not gay, leech. Stop projecting. I don't suck dick."

"Yet." Charlie said.

I shoved him into a shelf. A couple bags of chips popped open and he nearly hit his head.

He didn't look angry though. Just wistful. People stared at us.

He sighed. "I'll pay for that since you're poor." He got up and placed the open bags in his cart.

"And the only reason you're not is because of your rich daddy."

Charlie didn't reply to that. He seemed down all of a sudden. Bipolar much?

"What, no comeback?"

I followed Charlie to the liquor aisle.

"There's nothing not to like about him." Charlie looked into my eyes. Why did he look sad suddenly?

He turned away. "I'll miss him." He whispered.

What? Did I hear that right?

Fangs filled my cart with multiple six-packs of beer.

"Don't tell me you're gonna off yourself."

Charie chuckled. "I might as well."

He continued down the aisle.

"Why are you talking like you're dying or something?" Not that I cared but if T's boyfriend was dying it'd have a pretty big impact on him. And I cared about that.

Charlie chuckled again. "Just being dramatic. It's nothing." He shrugged. "It's a cheerful day, no reason to be sad!" He cheered up again.

"Have you told that to your wardrobe?"

"Fuck off, white trash." He retorted.

"Blood leech."

"Thick-skull."

"Bitch boy."

"Neanderthal."

"Pedophile."

Charlie answered that one by shoving me into a shelf.

...

Long story short, we left the supermarket with a lot more stuff than we intended to get.

After dropping me and the groceries off, Charlie left to go get ready.

I came back into the kitchen and found Timothy completely ready and decorating the first tier of the cake. But I wasn't looking at the food.

"Wow." I almost dropped the bags.