Happy We Are: Mike's Diary

By Hypnothrill published February 11, 2018
Mike returns to his hometown after a long absence. Why does everyone seem so happy to see him?

{Note: My adaptation of Psychtales’ “Happy We Are” is one of my least popular stories on here. But nonetheless, I still wanted to post my adaptation of Psychtales’ thematic sequel, “Happy We Are: Mike’s Diary.” It’s set in the same universe, but shares none of the same characters. And I think some of my regular readers will really enjoy some of the scenes in this one. This is the first of two installments}.

Happy we are: Mike’s Diary

February 8 This is one long flight home. I’ve been flying for 6 hours already and its only halfway till I’ll get back home. Such a long journey, and for what? I’m not even sure anyone will be waiting for me at the airport.

Sure, my family know I’m arriving. But after all that happened when I left home, the way I left … I’m not sure they’ll make the effort to greet me at the airport. I don’t think they’ll forgive me. Heck, I’m even not sure I’ll forgive myself. I was such an asshole then, lashing out at everyone because I couldn’t face who I was. But I grew up. Those two years abroad changed me. I think I’m a better man now. And now I’m ready to face the demons from my past. Yet I hope they are ready to face me.

Colin, the guy sitting at the seat next to me, is finally asleep. He sure is a nice sight to look at, now that he’s asleep. But he’s not such a nice person to talk to … he gave me a headache! He couldn’t stop complaining. About everything! For three hours in a row - the plane, the flight attendants, the food, his parents, his girlfriend. He kept talking on and on about that girlfriend of his, that “bitch” as he called her. About how she keeps cheating on him, and then threatens to leave him. Frankly, I don’t blame her …

Speaking of which, he reminds me of one demon from my past I wouldn’t like to face. Steve. Not now. Not ever. I hope I wouldn’t bump into him.

February 9 Home. At last. And what a surprise! Last night, at the plane, I wrote I wouldn’t expect anyone to greet me at the airport. So you can guess I was quite shocked when I got to the airport and spotted the welcome committee waiting for me. Signs, balloons and all. No, they were never that cheesy, but after all, it’s the first time I’m back after two years of being away . Dad was there, and my younger brothers - Dan and Marty. And Uncle Pete. And Steve.

Yes. Steve was there. The one person I didn’t even dare to think I would meet at the airport. Not after the ugly way we left things, when I blamed him for “turning me gay” and told him I hoped he’d catch AIDS and die. At first I thought that by some trick of fortune he was waiting for somebody else, and just happened right next to me family. I tried to avoid his look, but then I’ve noticed he was smiling at me, waving both his hands. And if I had any doubts left, I’ve heard him joining the rest of my family calling me: “Mike!”

They all greeted me so warmly, and looked so delighted to see me. I surely never dreamed of this kind of reception when I’ll get back home. After all, I knew my family. Or at least I thought I knew them. We are all very stubborn folks and we are not very quick to forget and forgive. Maybe they do miss me, and I guess that despite everything, they are my family and they love me, just as I do love them.

But Steve. I thought he would never forgive me. Apparently, I was wrong.

At first I tried to avoid him. “What is HE doing here?” I asked them.

“Mike, did you think I would forget you? Of course I’m here. I LOVE you, dude”. He took a step towards me. I took a step back, away from him. “But when we had that fight. All the things I said to you. And you said to me. We hated each other!” He took another step towards me. I tried to retreat, but couldn’t move backwards without bumping into someone. “Mike”, he said calmly, smiling to me, “I don’t hate you. I would NEVER hate you”.

He hugged me. I felt his firm pecs squeezing against my own chest. “Oh Mike, I missed you so much!”. I was stunned. Speechless.

“S… Steve… I never thought you would … not after ….”

“Yes, yes, I know. I was awful. I hope you’ll forgive me for everything I said and did back then. After we broke up, after all this time you weren’t here, I realized what a big mistake it was. I now realized how deep my feelings are for you. How much I’d like to be with you … I love you, Mike…”

I looked at him. He was even more handsome than I remembered him, especially in that tight T-shirt and jeans he was wearing. That smile, that cleft chin, those pumped arms, that bubble butt, that package outlined in his tight blue jeans… He then kissed me passionately. His tongue exploring the inside of my mouth. My penis sprang to full erection. I felt like I could take him here and now. Not caring about all the people around us. He was so hot. And I felt so horny!

But then I had a flashback of images from the time we broke up. Of things we said to each other back then, and I pushed him away from me.

“Mike, what’s wrong?” He didn’t look offended. He acted as if he were just curious about the way I acted. He was still smiling at me.

“I’m sorry, Steve, but it still feels strange to me to kiss you like that after … everything. I … don’t want to repeat the same mistakes again”

“That’s ok, I understand” he said, smiling at me. “but I promise you. This time it will be alright. This time I WILL make you happy”

“Maybe you’re right. But even if you do, we’ll have to do it one step at a time. And anyway, I’m really exhausted from the long trip. I think I’ll go home now and get some sleep. Goodbye, Steve”

“So, you don’t want me to go home with you and fuck you into oblivion before you get to sleep?” he asked seductively.

Gosh, didn’t I want it? I was damn horny and he knew how to play on my every weakness. Yet it felt wrong. It was impossible for me to just forget everything and pretend nothing happened. Maybe … in time, I would regain my trust in him. Not today.

“No Steve. Sorry”

“As you wish, captain”, he replied, giggling. “See you tomorrow”, he blew a kiss towards me and walked away.

Then I realized my family was there with me all along, witness to our conversation. I felt embarrassed, especially considering the part when Steve talked about fucking me. My family was never very open about sexuality. I looked at them and tried to read their reaction, but I couldn’t really tell anything from the smiles on their faces. Were they amused from the situation, or were they just so happy seeing me they couldn’t quit smiling?

“You guys make such a nice couple. I hope you’ll get back together” My dad said.

“Yeah, it would be sooooo romantic”, said Dan.

I thought Dan never liked Steve and was homophobic to boot—wasn’t he the one who’d sworn he’d “kick that fag’s ass” for messing with his brother? When had my family become so progressive? Or so sentimental?

Anyway, I’m too tired to think right now. I never get to sleep in an airplane, and my mind is really clouded from tiredness. I’ll try to get some sleep now.

February 10 If there would ever be a way to wipe up memories from my mind, here is one image I would like them to erase completely: the picture of my dad shaving his junk in front of the bathroom mirror. . I went to sleep at about 8 pm, and woke up at 3:30am, still groggy but needing to take a wicked piss. As I headed down the hall to the bathroom, I ran into Uncle Pete. It looked like he’d just come out of the shower; he was drying his hair with a towel, but was otherwise naked. I caught a glimpse of his big dick flopping between his legs, then looked away. He just smiled at me, and clapped me on the shoulder as he passed, “Good to have you back, Mike. I know you’ll like it here.”

“Uh…thanks, Uncle Pete. Sorry…can’t talk…gotta piss.”

I noticed there was still a light under the bathroom door, but I didn’t pay it any mind, until I opened the door and found my father there, standing wet and naked in front of the bathroom mirror, shaving his balls with a razor.

“Hey, son! Just cleaning the equipment! Best to do it right after a hot shower, y’know? When things are all soft and warm and loose.”

“Uh…um…I’ll just go…”

“Naw, you don’t need to do that, son. You’re probably comin in to take a piss, right? You can do that while I shave. After all, we’re all men here.”

“Uh…no…I’ll just wait…um…when you’re done.”

“Okay, okay. A little pee-shy around your old man, huh? Well,” my father raised his right leg, pulled up his ball sac and ran the blade over his scrotum, “lemme just rinse off this shaving cream, and I’ll give you some privacy. And if you ever need some shaving tips, you know where to turn, right, son?” He quickly dried his junk with a towel, then swatted me on the butt with the other end of the towel, “After all, I bet Steve would think you look sexy shaved.”

He walked out, leaving me alone in the bathroom, dazed and even shaking a bit. What was going on? My dad never talked to me like that, about sex, or his junk, or anything like that! And if he was in the bathroom, and I ran into Uncle Pete coming out of the bathroom, then…?

Maybe I was just overreacting and it was some kind of locker room thing, like Uncle Pete took a shower, then Dad took a shower while Uncle Pete shaved and chatted with him about sports or something. Or maybe Dad and Uncle Pete were showering together. And maybe that wasn’t the only thing they were doing together…

I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t believe it, not Dad and Uncle Pete, two of the straightest, most regular guys I knew. I had to be just seeing things, imagining things. This had to be just a bad dream.

It’s still dark outside now, but I can’t go back to sleep. Damn jetlag. Thoughts are spinning around my head. About the way I expected things would be when I got back. About the way things turned out. I have some strange, uneasy feelings. I feel like something isn’t right, yet I can’t tell what.

February 11 It’s night-time again. Yep, I’m definitely going to have difficult time getting over this jetlag.

I finally went to sleep yesterday after spending several hours reading some book at my room. I woke up at about 2pm.

“Hey sleeping beauty. Woke up at last?” My brother Marty greeted me.

I nodded drowsily.

“Listen, Mike, we’re doing a welcome party for you tomorrow evening. I hope it’s ok with you”

“A welcome party?”

“Yep. There are lot of people that want to meet you again, now that you’re back. Don’t you think it would be cool to have a welcome party for you?”

“Ahem … well… sure”

“Steve will be there” he added, with a wink.

Yes. Of course. Steve. The thing is, I wasn’t sure I was ready for him yet. I still need to find myself here before I get into such a relationship again.

Dad and Uncle Pete never mentioned anything regarding last night’s incident. Probably they haven’t noticed me. I hope neither of them noticed the embarrassed look on my face when I saw them today.

At supper I met Marty’s new best friend, Roger, and Dan’s frat brother, Ryan. I’m not sure I like Roger that much. I don’t know why, he looks nice and polite and all. I have no problem with Ryan, on the other hand. He’s a good-looking guy, blond with a cute smile and a cheerful demeanor. He was certainly my type of guy. He probably noticed I liked him, and tried to tease me a bit. I hoped Dan didn’t notice this. I wouldn’t like to mess with my brother’s friend or get him into trouble with his fraternity. If he noticed, he didn’t show a sign of it. They clearly liked each other, and didn’t try to hide it. They were always smiling at each other and showing a lot of physical affection, giving each other bear hugs and wrestling each other on the living room floor. Marty and Roger were the same way, and they even joined in the wrestling on the floor. The guys wanted me to come join them, but I begged off, told them I was still feeling a little sick from my jetlag.

A lot has certainly changed around here. They acted in a way that looked a bit out of character for both of them. Not to mention the dress my brother Marty was wearing. He always used to wear baggy skatepunk clothes that hid his body, and now he was wearing a tight pair of blue jeans and a white tanktop that showed off his newly muscular arms.

His friend Roger was wearing the same thing, and a couple of times they flexed for me and, smiling, asked, “Hey, Mike, how do you like the gun show?” My dad and Uncle Pete were looking at the five of us and smiling.

“Dad, what are you smiling about?” I asked. “It’s just … so nice to see how you boys have all grown into real men” he said. “It just makes me happy to see all of us guys together”.

I had a creepy feeling aliens came and replaced my family. Yet … after all, I hadn’t seen them for two years. Maybe they had just changed. Marty was 16 when I left. Now he’s 18. Dan is 20 now. And maybe Dad’s changed some of his old attitudes too? Who knows. What’s important is that they’re happy now. And I should be happy for them. They’re no longer the miserable would-be-family I left 2 years ago. Whatever happened, it’s only for the best.

After supper, Roger went with Marty to his room, to “play some games.” Few minutes later, Dan and Ryan left the table together as well. Did they also go into Marty’s room? Nah. Probably it’s just me imagining things again.

Just when I went back to my room, I got a phone call. From Steve. He asked if he could come to visit me.

“Sorry Steve, I don’t think it would be a good idea. I need some time to think about it”.

“Mike, don’t be so heavy. All I want is to talk with you. Nothing more”

“We are talking”

“Mike, please? I want to see you when I talk. I won’t bite, I promise” He said with a dumb laugh.

“Well, I guess you could come here to talk. But just to talk”

“Sure” he said.

I had a strange thought when I was waiting for Steve to arrive. “This is not Steve”. Well … he had Steve’s body (Steve’s VERY attractive body), and Steve’s voice, but it wasn’t him. The real Steve would hate me now, would try to stay away from me, not to seduce me. I don’t remember Steve ever THAT happy and cheerful. I don’t remember him giggling before. It’s like the invasion of the body snatchers or something.

No. This thought is too ridiculous. Maybe it’s a wicked game he’s playing with me? Acting as if he wants me… Planning a revenge on me?

He came wearing a black tanktop and blue jeans that were, unbelievably, even tighter than the ones he wore to the airport. Was he that beautiful when we dated, two years ago? I thought of him as a guy with a nice body and pretty face, but I never noticed he had that kind of underwear model body, not until tonight.

He sat in a seductive pose on my bed, smiling at me. He kept talking, saying things about forgetting and forgiving, about how much he wanted me and loved me, how great it would be to be together. I wasn’t really listening. I looked at his smiling lips, the sensual way in which they moved when he talked, at his very masculine body that was ready for me to touch. I remembered that kiss at the airport, I could still feel the taste in my mouth, taste of passion. All my previous thoughts faded away. All I had in mind was my desire for him. His lips moved closer to mine, I’ve felt his hand fondling the very hard organ between my legs.

“No, Steve, stop it” I said, in a not very convincing voice.

“Mike, you naughty boy” he said with a dumb laugh, “Your joystick down there doesn’t really want me to stop. Does it? Man, I forgot what a huge piece of meat you’ve got stuffed down there …”

“No, Steve …” I had to summon all my will power to stop him. It wasn’t right. I tried hard to think about the way we broke up two years ago … tried hard … I was definitely hard …

“No!” I pushed him away.

“Mike, don’t resist me. I know you want me …” he said in a soft voice, smiling. It wasn’t right. The way he behaved. It wasn’t Steve at all. And he just kept smiling. Coming to think of it, everyone around me just kept smiling. All the time. I don’t remember any other expression on the face of anyone since yesterday, except smiles. If I wasn’t that tired and confused I would have noticed that earlier. But what was going on here? Why? The “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” or “Stepford Wives” explanations were still too ridiculous to consider. Must be something else.

“Steve, may I ask you something?” I said.


“I’ve noticed … you’re smiling … all the time”

“Sure, Einstein, you’re very perceptive” he replied. “It’s because I am happy. I’m happy to see you. To be with you. You make me smile. Anything wrong with that?”.

“It’s just - not you. Not the Steve I remember”

“People can change, can’t they? Don’t you like the way I am now? Do you want me to have a serious look on my face?” He made an imitation of a “serious” look and then burst into laughter. He was even sexier when he laughed.

“Steve, it’s not just you. It’s everyone here. I don’t think it’s right”

“It’s not right that people are happy?”

“Not when it is my family. It is frightening me. I want my old miserable family back!”

“Mike, relax. Stop worrying all the time. Let go of your fears and doubts and you’ll feel happy as well. This is what your family learned while you were away. This is what I’ve learned. If you don’t want to be happy yourself, at least be happy for us”

“Steve, I think you should go now” I said.

“Sure Mike. If that’s what you want”

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