literature

Peter and Me. -Chapter 2-

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Literature Text

Chapter 2


The week leading up to Peter's arrival was just torture. I found it nearly impossible to lye in bed without indulging in fantasies of our time together. The night before the big day, I maybe got two hours sleep. I looked like hell felt so wretched come morning that mom drove to the airport while I rested in the backseat.

"I hope we don't hate each other on sight," I said as we neared our destination.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll become friends quickly," she reassured me. "God, this traffic is horrible. We're going to be late I just know it."

By the time, we pulled into the airport there was maybe five minutes to spare until Peter's flight arrived.

"You'll have to go greet Peter yourself while I park the car or we'll miss him for sure," mom said, pulling up to the drop-off area. "We can meet at baggage claim."

My stomach tightened and my heart started beating harder. I was going to meet Peter alone, a daunting prospect to say the least.

"How will I know him?" I asked, hoping she didn't hear the slight tremor in my voice.

"Well, growing up you two were roughly the same height and as far as I know his hair's still dark brown. Oh, he said he'd wear a plaid shirt so he'll stand out better from the crowd. Can't be too many young guys like that on the plane so you should have no problem picking him up."

I didn't know what else to say so I kept quiet and waited for the car to stop. Mom told me Peter’s flight number and I somehow managed to find the terminal with minutes to spare. There were many people milling about the waiting area, eagerly waiting the coming of friends and loved ones. I stayed behind the crowd, fighting to appear calm while a storm of violent emotions raged inside of me. My mouth went dry and my hands felt numb as I tried unsuccessfully to think of things to say to Peter. I nearly bolted when someone announced the plane's arrival. Breathing deeply I stuffed my shaking hands in my pockets, praying I wouldn't have a panic attack and pass out.  

Soon a swarm of flight-weary passengers emerged from the terminal and chaos erupted as people rushed to welcome them. I lost sight of the entrance in all the confusion and for a minute or two; I feared Peter had slipped by me. Then, as the crowd began to thin, I saw him. Dressed in a blue plaid shirt and black trousers he moved with a dancer’s grace, weaving his way through the crowd effortlessly towards me. Swallowing hard, I forced my stiff legs to carry me forward and managed to muster what I hoped was a welcoming smile.

He noticed me when only a few steps apart and stopped. My eyes met his and were held by the clear blue innocence they regarded me with, openly responsive, with none of the guarded defiance most guys eye their own sex. He spoke first.

"Justin?"

"Yes. Peter, right. Wow, you look great," I said, my smile becoming more genuine.

Peter smiled in return before quickly looking away. I couldn't help staring at him. He was beautiful in a just barely formed way. His eyes were big, his mouth full and soft, but there was strength enough in the line of the jaw and curve of cheekbone. His dark hair frizzed slightly at the sides and fell in a smooth wave across his brow. His neck was smooth and strong. My eyes dropped to his hands and I experienced a surge of sharpened interest. They were big but not clumsy, with long strong fingers. I wanted to hold them, to feel their grip. I glanced at his crotch. The swell of the trousers was promising but inconclusive.

With great effort, I found my voice and said. "Mom is going to meet us at baggage claim. Come on, we better hurry before she sends security out looking for us."

On impulse, I reached out and put a hand on Peter's shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. It felt solid and well muscled. I was keenly alert for some sign of recognition from him, a look, a touch, but Peter only smiled and nodded. We didn't speak as we made our way to baggage claim and I dared not look at him as he walked close to my side. Somehow, we made it to baggage claim where, thank god, my mom was waiting. I hung back a bit, watching as she cried and embraced Peter in a bear hug.

I no longer had to worry about conversation; mom relieved me of the burden by piling question after question on him about his life, school and future goals. Peter held his own against the assault, answering her easily and seemed to enjoy the attention. I took charge of carrying the bags, which consisted of only two small suitcases. Finding the car proved to be an adventure. Mom couldn't remember where she parked so we wandered around for I swear a half hour before finding the car. I didn't trust myself to be alone with Peter in the backseat so I drove while mom and he chatted behind me.

Every now and then, mom would throw a question my way and I would answer dutifully, glancing in the rearview mirror at them as I did so. During such times, I would catch Peter's eye and hold it, charging every look with significance without quite giving my hand away. If he recognized this as flirting, he gave no indication of it. Frustrated, I counseled myself to be patient, that once we were alone together everything would be settled. We made it home without incident though my heart was beating so hard I thought I'd pass out on the driveway.

"I want you two over my place around twelve for lunch," mom said as we got Peter's bag from the trunk. "Supper too unless you have other plans for tonight Justin."

I nearly exploded with laughter, only by biting my tongue and holding my breath was I able to keep from doing so.

"I don't know yet. We'll see what happens," I said, relieved that my voice sounded normal.

Mom gave me and Peter one last hug, warned us not to be late before getting in the car and driving off. I then turned to Peter, smiled and gave him a brisk tap on the back.

"Welcome home."
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© 2008 - 2024 Azalon
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YourLiez's avatar
I wish the chapters were longerrrrr
You just do so well with it... I love your descriptions and the way you portray the characters (Though few for now) too