The Treehouse [BxB]

thirty three

Dominique picked Mickey up from Axminster's train station, and after climbing into the passenger seat, he took a deep breath and said, "Mum, there's something I need to tell you."

Dominique rose her brows, "Well, hello to you, too, my dear son. I've missed you, too."

He sighed, "Sorry."

She didn't start the car. They sat there, still, stationary, looking out at the run down train station. It was raining outside, drops of water falling on the windshield, and sliding down the glass. "What is it, Mickey?" Dominique questioned.

He tilted his head to the side to look at her, "I'm dating River."

Dominique's expression didn't change; she continued to stare straight ahead. "I thought you were." She finally said.

"You did?" Mickey frowned.

She nodded, and glanced across at her son, "Something changed between you two over the Christmas break."

"You noticed?"

"I'm your Mother. I notice everything."

Mickey slouched back in his seat, "Are you okay with it?"

She smiled, and started the engine, "Of course I am. I love River like a son."

He sighed in relief, "I love you, Mum."

When they got home, Mickey dumped his bags in his bedroom, greeted his sister with a hug, and then headed over to River's house. When River answered the door, he jumped into Mickey's arms, hugging him as tightly as he possibly could.

"Happy birthday." Mickey chuckled, his nose buried in River's soft curls, breathing in the smell of his shampoo. They were stood in the doorway, the rain soaking into his frizzy curls, and seeping through his clothes.

River kissed him, his arms wrapped around the back of Mickey's neck as he balanced on his tiptoes, tasting Mickey's pretty mouth. "Thanks." He mumbled into his lips.

"Can I come in?" Mickey laughed, wiping the raindrops from his cheeks, "It's freezing out here."

River shook his head before pulling on his shoes, wrapping his finger's around Mickey's wrist, and dragging him out into the rain. He kissed him again, beneath the grey stormy sky, as icy water drenched the two boys - but it didn't matter. Because they kept each other warm with the fires of passion that roared uncontrollably in their chests. "C'mon." River held onto Mickey's hand, and tugged him towards the treehouse. He climbed up the ladder first, and Mickey followed him.

"What are we doing up here?" Mickey laughed, shaking the raindrops from his hair once they were under the wooden shelter. They could hear the rain beating down on the roof of the treehouse, water falling onto the fresh green leaves around them.

"Remember my eleventh birthday?" River's cheeks were rosy from the cold air, and his hands were shaking. He took his glasses off, dried them with his jumper, and continued speaking, "The weather looked like this, and I wanted to stay indoors, but you told me we couldn't."

Mickey laughed as the memories flooded back to him, "I told you you had to thank the world for letting you live another year."

"So, we stood in the rain, and shouted up to the clouds." River recalled, "And afterwards, we sheltered in the treehouse; our clothes were completely soaked, and we both got colds afterwards."

Mickey reached out to run his fingers through River's damp curls, then traced his freckled cheeks with his thumb, dragging drops of water down River's face, "You wanna get another cold, is that it?" Mickey grinned.