Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen - Not so Fairytale Romance

With tender buttocks and aching hips, Owen was swung into a princess carry as the two youths left the hotel, which was paid for courtesy of his father's long abused credit card.  There was no shyness nor shame, in fact he laughed as he clung to the strong neck, enjoying the well shaped arms that held him.  Adam grinned in return, his eyes only holding this boy in their sights, ignoring the looks of distaste, envy and greed.  They remained this way until the car park, where Adam carefully eased his lover into the purloined car, before slipping into the drivers side.  He reminded him, overcautiously, to buckle his seatbelt, before hitting the road towards the town Owen resided in.  As it happened, all this time, they were just a couple of towns apart and no more than forty minutes drive, so the extra travelling was no hardship.

They bickered over which music to play for Adam preferred dance mixes with repetitive beats and loud bass, while Owen liked old school rock.  In the end, they ended up listening to national radio, singing along to the tracks they knew or making up their own words when they didn't.  They prolonged the journey, unnecessarily, by sweeping through a drive-thru and grabbing burgers and soft drinks.  Not a healthy breakfast for sure, but neither really cared at that moment.

When they pulled up outside Owen's home, the boy noticed that there was no sign of the car nor the driver.  That was a good sign, he felt, so he invited Adam in for coffee.  Naturally, he did not refuse.  Though he would have to return home as he had to work in the morning and was unlikely to see Owen in person for a while, at this moment they could be together.  Why not enjoy it.  Owen was aware of Adam's preference from their previous lives; he disliked instant coffees and teas, so he dug out the percolator one of the nanny's had left behind and the ground coffee from the back of the fridge and made a fresh pot.  "Could you grab the milk?"

"Why is there no fresh produce in your fridge?"  Adam asked.  "And why does it appear that Frankenstein attempted to experiment with food?"  He was referring to the 'home made' dishes.

"I can't actually cook?" Owen confessed.  In this life, he had not needed too... in fact he hadn't needed to learn in any of his lives since Warren and even then his skill was basic. "I've been living with live-in nanny's since small.  They had reasonable cooking skills.  But I have been on my own for a while now.  Those were left by one of the cleaner's who feels sorry for me."

"Feels sorry?" Adam questioned.  "I'd feel sorry for anyone she cooks for!  Fine, looks like I'll be taking care of you again."  He was not displeased when he spoke these words.

Owen groaned, recalling several dishes that this man had put before him in their previous lives.  "You'll ruin by tastebuds!  I'll never be satisfied with anyone else's food again."  Adam placed the milk before him and wrapped his arms around his thin body, leaning his chin upon the's boy's shoulder.

"And this is a bad thing?" He asked.  Owen chuckled and stretched to place a kiss upon his lips, wincing as his hips protested.  Adam rubbed the small of his back for a moment, satisfied when the boy leaned into his touch. This peaceful moment was interrupted by the sound of a watch chime and Owen abandoned the coffee to Adam as he fished around in his coat pocket. He withdrew a black metal wristwatch with a white face. Three black crystals lined up in a row towards the twelve point.  He strapped the watch on to his wrist.  "Is that a Jackson and Miller?"

"Yeah," Owen laughed.  "Ironic.  I usually give away or bin anything related to that company, but for some reason, I liked this watch!"

Adam chortled along with him, revealing his ice white watch with a black face and three cloudy crystals embedded.  "And I wondered how I managed to come across a Jackson and Miller watch at such a low price," he lowered his voice slightly.  "I thought it might be a knock off, but I got it verified, so I was a bit worried that it was stolen instead."

"But they look good, right!" Owen mused, placing his wrist next to Adam's.  "Like couples watches!"  Adam smiled before leaning down to steal a kiss.  The swift peck soon morphed into something more passionate, as breath and tongue entwined.  However, it was more loving than lustful and as they broke apart, there was only contentment as they shared a long gaze.  Owen stepped closer to wrap his arms around Adam's waist and lean into his shoulder.

The front door unlocked and through it entered a young man several months older that Owen.  He made his way into the kitchen, but did not witness the tender embrace as they had parted to finish preparing coffee.  Owen glanced up and a sneer automatically appeared upon his face.  Adam glanced at the other man, noting the similarities of face that Owen shared with him.  But this man had short, dark brown hair, cut in an up to date and fashionable style that actually failed to suit him.  "Mark," Owen greeted, but not welcomingly.

"Owen," the other man shared the contempt.  "And this is?"

"Adam, my boyfriend," Owen smiled, this one was genuine and tinged pink.  Adam glanced down at him, his chest feeling full.

"I suggest you end your relationship with him before mum finds out," Mark decided to give him a warning.  Not that he cared who the brat chose to date.  "Mum won't welcome a gay into the family."

"Like she ever welcomed me into 'the family' before now!" Owen sneered, before returning the milk to the fridge.

"You didn't give her a chance!"  Mark retorted.  "You refused to come live with us after the divorce!"

"Is that the pretty fairytale that was woven?" Owen laughed as Adam frowned.  "What ten year old gets the leisure to decide by themselves where they will live and what sort of judge would grant said ten year old the choice of living by themselves with just the supervision of the hired help?  I might not like you, but I never took you for an idiot!"

Mark looked slightly stunned.  He clearly had never thought to question the situation, just allowed a simmering hatred rise within him.  He had been eleven years old and thought he was due to gain a younger brother.  He'd been the baby of his family for so long, he'd been looking forward to it.  But when he was told that the boy wasn't coming to live with them, because he had refused to accept a new mother and brothers, he was angry and hurt.  Those childish emotions had morphed into something more solid as time past.  In fact, he hated it when his dad had business close to this house so stayed here with his other son and he hated it when his mother had compared his grades with Owen's, indicating that his father would care more about that boy than him were he not to get his grades up.  When his father asked him to stay here this weekend rather than book a hotel as he had planned to meet up with friends, he had been more than pissed off.  And now, being told that it hadn't been Owen's choice, what exactly was he supposed to believe?

He suddenly found the view at his feet interesting, before mumbling something under his breath about leaving the two alone for a bit, before fleeing for the guest room he had claimed for the weekend.

Owen led Adam into his own bedroom, quickly apologising about the mess with a reddened face before explaining the drama that was his broken families lives.  It probably would have made an interesting romance story, if told from the point of view of the adults, but when one saw through the eyes of a child, there was just a lot of heartache.

His father had first met his stepmother when they were teenagers, studying at boarding school.  Their dorms were naturally separate, but it did not stop the pair of teens, who stupidly thought their love would surpass the heavens.  The girl had fallen pregnant with his child, but was not aware of it until the summer holidays and her parents withdrew her from the school.  They did not believe in abortion, for if they had then little Karl would not have seen the light of day.  The girl could not get in touch with her boyfriend, they had taken away her mobile phone and she couldn't remember his number.  He tried to get in contact with her, but her parents blocked his way.

Eventually, the boy became a man and graduated from school, college and university and married a woman chosen for connections rather than love.  In the meantime, the girl ended up wedding a much older man who showed her much kindness and caring and doted upon her son.  She and the boy both became Jackson's and were quite happy.  But the man died of a sudden heart attack when the child was seven.  He had no blood related children, so left his assets to his stepson, naturally there would be relatives after his company and fortune, but that was another story.

At the funeral, the former boyfriend came to pay his respects and was suddenly confronted by the realisation that this important business man's widow was his teen love.  It would not take long for him to realise that the boy was his son.  The man's wife had not yet conceived after three years of marriage, so it is not surprising that he would want to know the child, but as his visits became more frequent, the love that was once shared became renewed and another child was conceived.  This was Mark.  But just before he was born, Owen was conceived.  Their father would blame it on alcohol to appease his mistress and his wife was not yet aware of his affair until after her child's birth.

When his wife demanded a divorce, it was to save face rather than for any affection.  The woman had never cared about anything but herself.  Owen could not blame his father for seeking love elsewhere.  But he could blame the man for leaving behind a vulnerable child when it was clear that the mother did not want him either.  The divorce meant that the two lover's could finally be together and live as a complete family.  Karl kept his surname as Jackson for his stepfather in part and also to keep that family's leeches away from his inheritance.  He was now eighteen years old and studying hard so he could take over the business his stepfather had left him.  Mark was already a Miller and soon there would be born a surprise package named Francis, their family's little princess.  Owen would not enter this family, but for some reason, perhaps due to guilt, his father would still support him financially and visit him and expect things from him.  He was a 'part time' son.

When Adam wrapped his arms around Owen, he came to realise that he had tears running down his face.  It seemed Owen still had a small spark of hope in his heart that his father might come for him one day and acknowledge him.  Adam kissed his unruly hair and let him sob softly.  "We've had many parents," Adam said softly.  "Not all of them have been good to us, but we still hope, don't we."

"It's painful," Owen agreed, "loving them, losing them... how do you cope?  This is the first life I have had to face them all in my heart."

"Because of you," Adam replied.  "I cope with the loss because I still have you."