It All Started With A Kiss

Dylan

"I am never traveling anywhere with you imbeciles ever again." My dad muttered as he all but threw his suitcases inside and kicked off his shoes."

"Don't say that, baby." Carson cooed lightly as me and him followed my dad inside the dark penthouse. We'd been gone for a year but my dad had Brad check in on the place from time to time, keeping up with the general maintenance. He'd long since returned from Russia and had spent time in NYC settling some lawsuit with John Terry for Ivanov Corp.

My father had mentioned while in Ireland that the fact Ivanov Corp was still a thing and not ran into the ground with lawsuits was all Brad’s doing over the last eight years Mavericks was partnered with them now for. And honestly, to this day I was still very surprised that dad maintained his longstanding beef with Christian Ivanov in particular.

It was inspiring really.

"Shut the fuck up, Carson." Dad snapped back in true Don Whittaker fashion. "That was the longest flight of my goddamn life. We spent a year in Ireland and the fucking airport was when you to decided you wanted to get memorabilia? You're lucky I'm not putting you out on the couch tonight and Dylan on the streets of New York."

"I love you too, Pops." I chuckled, pushing the suitcases my dad had since abandoned at the entrance, further inside. He was really fucking over both it and Carson and I.

"Are you ready for school?" He then asked, turning back before fully disappearing down the corridor.

"Yes, though I still think I should just start next week," I argued, to which my dad shook his head immediately.

"I'm giving you one day tomorrow then you will be back in class on Tuesday. Don't piss me off, kiddo, I am not in the mood for it. Besides, Carson and I are going back to work Tuesday and I already promised you I'll get you a car this week." Dad replied with a level of irritance that I honestly was beyond used to by now. "I'm going to shower, I suggest you two do the same after I'm done, and go the hell to bed. I'll be meal prepping your lunches tomorrow."

He didn't even wait for a reply before he returned to his room. I was forced to hear for about four hours of our flight how my dad missed his own bed with a desperate passion... so this was also expected.

"He's just tired," Carson told me, helping me with grabbing my dad's suitcase and his. "Don't worry about it, I'll fix his mood by tomorrow morning."

"You two are disgusting," I muttered, making Carson laugh as he, too, made it towards my dad's room with their suitcases in tow after kicking his own loafers off... and so I did as I was told, waiting for both of them to finish with the shower while I made it to my room and started to unpack my luggage. 

Man, what a long trip.

I knew they were taking a shower together as per usual, however I still slid on a pair of headphones because knowing what I did, Carson was probably fixing that man's mood right now. 

There was a part of me- a large- scratch that, massive part that didn't want school to start at all. 

All I could think of was one man, and how the hell we left our friendship right before I went to Ireland.

He hadn't texted or called me once since then.

Not once.

And I knew it was because of that kiss he had randomly planted on me the night before my flight out, completely terrifying the shit out of me and what this now meant for us as best friends.

Then he just completely ghosted me, not returning a single one of my calls which was shitty because he was the only friend I could think of that I wanted to actually share the entire events of the trip with. My dad and Carson told me it would resolve itself once we got back, but I hadn't shared the information about the kiss with them. I just told them we argued because of something stupid, and honestly, with that minimal information, I'm sure they thought everything would be fine.

But it wasn't. This was the longest I had ever been away from him. This was by far the longest we have ever gone without talking. And if I saw him at school, I didn't know what the hell to do anymore. I didn’t know what I’d even say to him.

The extended vacation was nice, with my dad choosing to homeschool me while I was out, and I still kept communication with other friends, but no one had been as close as Isiah and I were... before he...

Why did he have to go and do that? I couldn't help but think. He hadn't confessed feelings for me or anything. He just planted one on me while we were sitting on the couch watching Andor, then fucking bolted from my home without saying anything else, all while I just wanted an explanation. Maybe I missed something between us?

A whole year had now passed with simply no word from him.

I was more grown, like physically. I fucking skyrocketed in height, now almost as tall as my dad and Carson. I had picked up a bit of an Irish accent too since Dad really leant in heavily on his, something Carson couldn't stop gushing over for our entire year overseas. I also now knew more about who my grandmother was. We had found more of my dad's family out there, to which they welcomed all of us immediately, speaking more of my grandmother and how amazing of a woman she was.

It reminded me of our times at Wilmoria’s Cafe over the years. How Pricilla always spoke of her when Dad and I stopped by a few times a year. It really felt like home with family that shared Dad and I’s eyes. The Dwyer name.

I had changed... and Isiah had missed that entire year of it. I wondered what had happened for him during the year. Whether he had changed, too. 

I wanted my dad to ask more questions whenever he was on a call with Isiah's parents, but it sounded like he had just told his mother that we got into an argument. He hadn't, as far as I knew, mentioned anything about that kiss... so I didn't mention it either.

Why? Just why the hell would he go and do something like that?

I stared at my phone while laying in bed waiting for my dads to be done with their intimate moment in the shower, just looking at my unread texts to Isiah. I didn't know if I should text him that I was back considering he clearly didn't give a shit, so I decided not to. I guess we'd just... see each other at school? I guess?

-

"What do you want to eat this week?" My dad asked while I was on the couch looking for something to watch. 

I was so fucking happy we threw out that damn couch eight years ago, the one Carson bought was so much better that I honestly couldn't believe Dad slept on the old one for so many days when I first came to The Alpines. Carson still thanked me to this day for picking out a bed my dad had no business even attempting to build, which was really sweet. 

Apparently that was their catalyst for the start of their relationship or some shit, I dunno.

Dad was such a damn softie around Carson, I was genuinely surprised how different they were together. So much so, we still visited Carson's family in Texas every year for Thanksgiving. At this point I just told them both we might as well get a second home. Carson’s Nan had passed away four years ago which kept us in Texas for a whole month, then there was the ranch expansion which kept his mums in Texas for even longer. So much had changed over the years, but what hadn't was the horses.

I had my own now for starters, with Carson teaching me how to ride very much to my dad's dismay, the old man fought long and hard to try and keep me off one, but it was a wrap with Grandpa Ken bought me my own. And I was getting good. Really good, actually. I wondered how much my own horse, Lightning, was doing. Whether he had grown like me. Grandpa Ken said I'd be surprised once we went down again in a few months for Thanksgiving again, and that excited the complete hell out of me.

I wanted Lighting to get as big as Shadow was.

"Italian," I told my old man, giving him a smile as I stopped cruising through Netflix to go lend a hand. Carson had been right- he was in a much better mood this morning.

"Italian sounds fantastic," Carson added as he joined us from their bedroom. He was wearing a shirt for a change which told me their prior night had been more than just good. I knew they were intimate often, that whenever a shirt was on meant whatever they had done had left marks in places they were forced by good ol’ Pops to wear, even though they weren't fooling any fucking one.

Luckily I could distract myself with headphones most nights, giving them their privacy, but they were equally obsessed with each other, the kisses and longing touches they shared was a dead giveaway.

I liked how Carson took care of him though. They'd lasted eight years, yet they acting like both newly weds and an old fucking couple all at the same time, and constantly. 

I’d never admit it to them because both their egos were far too large already, but one day I wanted what they had. Carson even signed a prenup, only to put Dad on everything he had without a second thought. 

My grandfather was also very sick, most likely anticipated to die this year, and that put my old man in a much better mood. He was never fully honest with me about the abuse he experienced as a kid, and I never did meet his father, but I knew it was something seriously bad for Dad never raised his voice nor a hand to me. Ever. In fact, he had promised that once we got back from our trip, he would show me a move or two at the gym downstairs.  

And Pops could fight, that I knew for sure. He had taken me to a bar in Dublin since I was 18 now, while Carson stayed to chat with some of my dad's family, and it got a bit rowdy there. Good ol Pops showed me first hand that he truly chose to not be a violent person, but if someone started something, he took no issue ending it. 

Honestly it was probably the Irish blood in him, cause the pub owner didn't even bat an eyelash when Dad knocked a man clean out in the middle of the bar for trying to drunkenly fight me out of nowhere.

My mum was also still living at The Alpines with us. She had worked to get herself back on her feet here in New York, and she respected the rules my father had put in place. I never did see that Harry guy again, thank fuck, so that was good riddance. 

Dad also never spoke of what he had threatened him with. My dad never spoke about a lot of things, but I trusted and respected what he did and didn't tell me. He was keeping things safe, and I knew he was rather honest with Carson so that's all that really mattered. 

I got up from the couch to join the man. Some things never changed, and he, myself, and Carson all cooking together was one of them. We all made mostly dinners after their work and my school, and my lunches on Sunday for the week.

"Did you reach out to some friends to let them know we're back? I think maintaining those connections will help with your final year." Carson spoke, helping hold the fridge door for Dad while he removed a bunch of ingredients for a tomato based sauce.

"Yeah, I did." I nodded, accepting the ruffles of hair his large hands tossed tenderly while he gave me a smile. I gave him a smile in return, loving the fact that Carson still treated me just like he always had- the best of fucking friends. No matter how young I was then nor how old I was now.

"Did you manage to get ahold of Isiah?" Pops asked, setting ingredients on the counter while I headed for the sink to wash my hands.

"No..." I said slowly, unsure of what else to really say about that.

"It'll be fine, kiddo. Say hi to him at school. See if you two can talk it out. You've been friends for seven years before Ireland, that's not something to just throw away." Dad spoke while Carson joined me at the sink to wash his own hands.

"I agree," Carson added next to me more gently. "Whatever you two argued about can't be that bad. Just try to talk to him." 

And I couldn't help sighing, but I still nodded. I couldn't tell them what really happened, not before Isiah agreed to speak with me. I didn't know why he did what he did without even giving me a chance to speak with him about it, but something told me it had to be some kind of misunderstanding.

He was my best friend... and I didn't want that to change because of this. I just needed to know why.

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