Talk To Me [BoyxBoy]

Chapter Two

Three comments. That’s good enough for me.

- Piper xx

Duncan's Point of View

Oh joy! A new family! I thought sarcastically to myself as Ms. Philips and my supposed me father, Mark Laurence finished up the adoption paper work. They had gotten through it in record time but I think that may have had something to do with the hundred thousand dollar check that was handed over by father dearest with the words "Compliments to your establishment. Get the kids something nice!"

"Right, now we only need your signature here Duncan and your home free." Ms. Philips smiled brightly. I gave a mental sigh and brought the paper toward me and signed on the dotted line. Confirming my fate for, what was this now? The sixteenth time? Eh who knows, I stopped counting when I got to ten.

+++

After I'd grabbed my some of my thinks and stuffed them into a backpack I was given a teary hug good bye by Ms. Philips before being led outside to a black stretch limo by Mr. Laurence. As we approached, a chuffer (A short man in his early thirty with blond hair) jumped out and quickly opened the door for us and allowed us to slid in.

Once inside the limo, Mr Laurence took out his blackberry mobile phone and began texting someone, seemingly forgetting my presence altogether. But that didn't surprise me, the only person that ever acknowledged my presence was my father and that was only so he could blame me for my mother’s death.

I sighed sadly to myself and sank back into the black leather seats, deciding to take this time to study the man that currently held custody of me. Mark Laurence was a sturdy looking man, roughly 6' 4" with broad shoulders and an overall strong build. His strong jaw and cheekbones gave him a tough appearance while his dark navy eyes made him appear slightly sinister. He wore an expensive, black pinstripe suit with a white dress shirt and a navy tie that matched his eyes. His dirty cameral blond hair was thick and styled neatly. Over all he was handsome but I defiantly got the feeling he was someone not to mess with.

As Mr Laurence continued to play with his phone, I took a notepad out of my bad and started writing my letter to the family. Since I really don't like talking I decided when I was ten that I'd write letters instead to greet people. But I'd always do too. The first one would be short and sweet, exclaiming how grateful I was to them for adopting me and stuff like that. This one I'd hand to them as soon as I stepped through the door. The second however, I'd be my wonderful, sarcastic self. I'd tell them all about myself. How no matter how hard they try I wouldn't actually talk to them, I'd ignore their authority, how they'd grow bored with me in a week or two, and because these guys were rich, I'd be out of there by the end of the day because, Oh the horror!, I'm gay. And no self respecting rich family wants a gay adoptive son. Trust me, I know from experience.