Hidden Fantasies

Nathaniel Cosmo Devin was not your average thirty-five-year-old. At first, or even second glance, you would not find anything abnormal about the man. An onlooker would see only a handsome man with ebony brown hair, glistening emerald eyes, and an Irish accent. There was no reason to suspect that he had anything to hide. He worked as a teacher of kindergarden, had a wife and a son, and was an all-around good guy. But he isn’t as normal as you would think. In fact, he’s hardly normal at all...

Chapter One

“Mornin’, Ben.” Nathan greeted his twelve-year-old son, peaking in to make sure the pre-teen was actually getting ready for school.

“Morning, Dad.”

Benjamin Timothy Devin wasn’t exactly the most popular kid around, nor was he very special. He was thin but not too thin, with ebony brown hair identical to his father’s and crystal blue eyes, twins of his mother’s. And, while he was fairly handsome, his over-all appearance didn’t go very far above average.

Nathan followed his child down to the kitchen, where he quietly and efficiently prepared some fried eggs for breakfast. He always cooked, so it wasn’t a strange sight. His previous wife and Ben’s mother, Samantha, couldn’t cook for the life of her. He smiled as he thought about it.

They ate in silence. As he looked at the Irish brunette, Ben wondered what was wrong with him. While concerned for his paternal parent, he knew not to ask while the man was brooding. He wouldn’t talk about it until he was ready, and when he was ready he would just tell him like always. Almost always, at least.

As the last bit of egg ventured down their throats, Ben got up to get his backpack and lunch box while Nathan stood up to rinse off the dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

“Ready?” Nathan asked, looking his son up and down to make sure he was presentable.

Ben rolled his eyes. “Yes, mom.”

***

Nathan drove away from Ben’s middle school. He had always dropped his son off. The boy never seemed to like buses very much. His thoughts turned to where his ex-wife, Samantha, might go.

Samantha Johnson-Devin was a very single-minded woman. She liked to do things as she saw fit, and was convinced that what she said was law.

She had never been particularly fond of her parents, and often got into heated arguments with them, though she had always gotten along better with her father. She didn’t have any siblings to stay with, so that was out of the question. She had an uncle and an aunt-in-law, but since both were deceased, she couldn’t have gone there. She did have a cousin, though. She and Michael got along splendidly, and Nathan had no doubt that Mike would have understood her predicament and took her in if she needed it.

He sighed. He shouldn’t be thinking about these things. Maybe Damien was home? His twin always gave him something to do, whether he liked the activity or not.

He drove up and parked in the driveway of his twin’s house before getting out and knocking on the door in his usual tap-tap-taptap-tap pattern. When there was no answer, he opted to just invite himself in – Damien never minded – but saw with surprise that the apartment was empty. His brother’s bedroom door was open, so he could clearly see that he wasn’t in there, nor was he in the living room or kitchen.

“Damien?” He called out, just in case.

When there was no answer, he shrugged and went back to his silver Mercedes. It wasn’t a cause for worry, he was probably just out somewhere. Since everything was within walking distance, and Damien liked to walk anyway, he didn’t have a car. When he needed to travel long-distances, he would either get Nathan to drive him or just borrow the car.

Nathan honestly hated days he didn’t have to work. He was a teacher for kindergarden, and on his days off it tended to get very boring. He had a TV, but with over 1,000 television channels and nothing to watch, it tended to loose its entertainment skills. Maybe he could write some on the computer, or just surf the internet for whatever random crap that he could think of.

A sudden burst of pain in his ribs caught him off guard. Slamming on the brakes, he nearly went off the road. People were honking their cars at him in irritation, trying to get passed him. He winced, squeezing his hands on the steering wheel. It took a lot of effort to keep is eyes open and focus on getting the car back into the correct lane, but he managed. He rubbed at his sore ribs, cursing quietly. Why did the pain always have to come at the most inopportune moments?

He managed to make it home and into the house where he dropped heavily onto the couch, curling into a tight ball. To an onlooker, it looked as if the man had severe stomach cramps. To him, it was easing the agony that came with being what he was. It felt as if a boulder the size of your average home was crushing him.

He whimpered in a dog-like fashion, trying to curl into a tighter ball. It will pass, he told himself over and over. It’ll pass, it’ll pass...

And, after a few excruciating moments, it did. He let out the breath he had been holding, and stretched out on the couch, staring up at his white ceiling, subconsciously waiting for the next pain attack that he knew would come.

***

Nathan started when an insistent beeping sounded in his ear. He looked at his watch to find that it was 3:00 PM, time to pick Ben up from school. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. Last time he checked, it was only eight AM. He sighed and stood up, wobbling slightly, and went to check his appearance in the bathroom mirror. He brushed his hair quickly and drove to the middle school.

As Benjamin got into the front seat, he turned to Nathan and raised an eyebrow. “You’re late, you know.”

Nathan had the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry, fell asleep on the couch.”

Ben shrugged, looking out the window as trees and other cars flew by. Nathan looked at him out of the corner of his eye, and sighed. He knew Ben sensed that something was amiss, but he didn’t think he could tell him what exactly that something was. The kid was only twelve, and Nathan wasn’t entirely sure as to how to explain it in a way that Ben could understand. So he opted to instead stay quiet and wait for Ben to ask the inevitable question.

***

It was 6:00 PM and Nathan busied himself in the kitchen while Ben played Guitar Hero: World Tour in the living room.

“Ben, dinner’s ready.” Nathan poked his head into the living room, watching as Ben finished his game and stood up. On the screen, it read:

MISERY BUSINESS

Notes: 98% Streak: 152 HARD

“That’s pretty good.”

Ben smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

At first, the meal was quiet and comfortable. The two could never think of anything of importance to talk about. However, the silence didn’t last long.

Ben sighed and put his fork down, leaving his plate half-empty. “Dad...”

Nathan paused, frowning slightly. He swallowed what was in his mouth and looked at Ben, silently gesturing for him to continue.

Ben looked down, thinking of how to word it. He decided not to beat around bush and be blunt. “Where’s mom?”

He’d been wondering where his mother was for the passed few days. She and his father had been arguing for months now, ever since his grandfather (mother’s side) had died. He was pretty sure they thought that he didn’t know, because they always fought the worst when he was supposed to be asleep. Honestly, though, when one’s parents were screaming at each other, how in all heck could one get any sleep?

But a few days ago, he had had to walk home because his father obviously wasn’t coming to pick him up, and had entered the living room to hear his father crying in the other room. He had graciously left him alone, opting instead to make himself a quick dinner. And he hadn’t seen his mother since then.

Nathan’s eyes darkened slightly. He sighed. “Benjamin...” Ben winced, but said nothing. Nathan only ever used his full name when he was being completely serious. Or when he was in trouble, but that was well beside the point. He held his father’s gaze, emerald piercing sapphire. “She...” Nathan closed his eyes, holding his forehead in his palm. “She left...” He mumbled, tone depressed.

Ben paused, staring at his father’s tired form, cerulean eyes disbelieving. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to. How could she? His train of thought was interrupted when his father attempted to hide a small sob. The twelve-year-old immediately stood up and wrapped his arms around his father, sitting in his lap and burying his face in the strong chest. His father needed him now more than he had ever needed his father, and he’d be thrice damned to hell if he weren’t there for him.