Last week, as you'll recall in Trapped in Time, Myron accidentally zapped Charlie with his wand, and a strange thing happened. To find out what became of Charlie and Myron, keep reading!
Trapped in Time #10
I had not realized how tired I was—or perhaps it is because
of the energy that we expended in our lovemaking—but when next I open my eyes, it is morning. Vittorio
and I are cuddled together, and my sweet boy is still asleep. My heart swells
as I gaze at him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, listening to his
gentle breathing. Reaching, I push his hair back a little, the better to see
him. He stirs, his eyes flutter open.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He smiles at me. So very beautiful, like an angel. My sweet
Italian angel.
“I wish to be awake,” he assures me, and when he kisses me,
I think I have died and gone to heaven. Except with morning breath. Where is a
toothbrush when you need one? Just because we’re stuck in the Jurassic period
is not reason not to exercise proper dental hygiene.
Vittorio’s eyes go past me.
“What is it?” I ask apprehensively. I’m half afraid that
some strange creature lurks behind us, and I’m not sure I really want to know.
“Myron and Charlie. They must have come back last night
while we slept.”
I roll over, and sure enough I see them, curled up together
on the opposite side of our little sleeping area. Both rather naked. Luckily I can’t see too
much of Myron, as Charlie is wrapped protectively about him. For the best, I
think.
“Why do you think
they came back here?”
“Safer, probably,” Vittorio hazards a guess. He’s probably
right.
“Do you think Myron did that on purpose?”
I frown. Then our getting back will either happen the same
way—or not at all.
Our voices must have wakened them; I’m seeing movement. I
hastily place myself as best I can, in order to keep Vittorio from prying eyes.
We definitely need to get dressed. Where did we leave our clothes? Oh yes, folded neatly and waiting for us, but
I’m not about to reach for them yet.
As I watch, Charlie stretches and yawns. He nonchalantly
scratches under one arm, before turning to us with a huge smile.
“Good morning, Adalbert and Vittorio! It is a beautiful day, is
it not?”
“Good morning, Charlie,” Vittorio responds. I think I’m
still in a bit of shock, thinking of the monkey that’s now a man, and also Myron’s lover. Which makes hating Myron all
the more difficult, because I like Charlie and Charlie obviously cares about
Myron.
It’s all so complicated.
Myron has popped up, and he seems to be
happy/dazed/confused/amazed and maybe another dozen adjectives I could throw on
the pile to spice up my description, but I’ll refrain.
“Good morning, Charlie,” I belatedly reply.
He grins at us both and beats on his chest. Guess you just can’t take the jungle out of
the monkey, or
something like that.
I hear the most horrible sound ever, like the gurgling of a
terrible cesspool, or a hideous creature, and I glance around with apprehension
until I realize it’s only the discontent of my stomach making itself manifest.
In other words, I am very hungry.
Vittorio pats my empty belly compassionately. “I would like
to eat too,” he admits, and we both look at Charlie.
Where is a pretzel vendor when you want one?
“Charlie’s hungry too.” He pats his own stomach, then
reaches over and duplicates his actions on Myron’s belly, which sets him to
blushing. He touches Myron’s twirly
villain moustaches, and pulls on them.
Myron yelps.
“That hurts Myron?”
“Yes, that hurts,” Myron grumbles, but Charlie kisses him
and chases the bad spirits away.
“Myron would look better without those silly hairs,” Charlie
says, and I have to agree with that assessment.
“Can we get something to eat?” Myron handily changes the
subject.
“Of course!”
We all look at him expectantly.
“I will show you,” he offers enthusiastically. “Let’s go!”
He rises, unselfconscious of his bare state, and reaches for Myron, who blushes
and resists, casting anxious glances toward us.
We avert our eyes instantly until I hear the all clear from
Myron; apparently they had their clothes stashed nearby as well. Now it is our turn, but I still don’t trust
Myron.
“Start walking, we’ll catch up.”
Charlie happily agrees, and he and Myron set off, hand in
hand—I still cannot believe my eyes, even though the sight is right before me.
I take advantage of their absence to gain possession of our clothes and we dress.
“I am so happy you are here with me,” Vittorio whispers, his
hand caressing my jaw; my heart thrills at his words. “Without you, I would be
lost…”
The feeling is entirely mutual.
We kiss most happily, but our happiness is short-lived as disturbing
sounds come to our ears, sounds that seem too close for comfort.
“Others are also hungry,” Vittorio whispers. “Let us go.” He takes my hand, and we hasten
after our companions, praying that we don’t meet with any more unpleasantries.
The disturbing noises recede behind us. I have no idea where
we are, or where we’re going. So much has happened, it’s all so confusing. It
is with a stab of heart-wrenching guilt that I suddenly realize I have done something
unconscionable, and the knowledge sits heavy on my heart. I stop in my tracks,
my mouth open in great dismay, wondering what is wrong with me?
“Doll, what is wrong?” Vittorio asks, concerned.
“I’m a terrible person,” I moan. “A horrible person. How could I do such a
thing?”
“What do you mean, my love?” He attempts to comfort me;
Charlie and Myron have stopped, gazing at me as well.
“I left it behind! How could I do that?”
“Left what?” Charlie asks.
“My pennyfarthing!” I wail, inconsolable. Vittorio rubs my
back, as the tears begin to flow for my forgotten bicycle.
Nephylim m/m
Pender Mackie m/m
MA Church m/m
Tali m/m
Until next time, take care!
♥ Julie
You've created quite a troupe with this bunch! It will be interesting to see what Charlie considers to be a proper breakfast. :)
ReplyDelete*Laugh* I was thinking the same thing... and what they're reaction will be to breakfast!
ReplyDelete~M
God that's funny. Charlie's adorable and poor Doll... lost in the middle of the Jurassic and he'd missing his bike :)
ReplyDelete