His hand was still glossed with Alex’scum.
“You know, telling me you had a son might have stopped me from calling you Daddy.” Alex remained leaned over the kitchen island. Cum dripped down his thighs, and he squirmed just a little bit, as if trying to hold it in. Laurence should have been uncontrollably aroused, even after he’d popped his knot, but arousal was the last thing on his mind. “Do you think heheard?”
At this point, Laurence was convinced that Matthew had heard everything, from the filthy words that Alex had whispered in his ear by the fridge to the last cried word—Daddy!
It had been a mistake to bring Alex home. It had been a mistake to ask him out in the first place. He was too old for Alex, no matter what Alex said, and no matter what Laurence wished was thetruth.
“Hey…” This time, Alex spoke more gently. He picked himself up from the counter and looked Laurence over, then picked up Laurence’s glasses and handed them to him. His shirt hung loosely down his front, but it didn’t hide his cum-soaked lace. “Listen, I’m sorry about what happened. If I’d haveknown—”
“It’s not your fault.” Laurence exhaled slowly through his nose, trying to do away with the discomfort in his chest. It wouldn’t budge. He took his glasses from Alex and put them back on. “It’s my fault. I should have knownbetter.”
Alex hesitated. “You, um… you probably need to go talk to him, don’tyou?”
“Ido.”
“So is this my official invitation to get the hell out, before I ruin your life more than it’s already beenruined?”
Laurence tucked his hands into his pockets. He couldn’t push away the heavy weight crushing his lungs. Why the hell had he thought it was okay to bring Alex home? Why hadn’t he had more self-control? “I’msorry.”
“No, I get it.” Alex grabbed a paper towel from the roll suspended over the counter and cleaned himself off quickly. “You want to go upstairs and talk to your son? I’ll let myselfout.”
“I drove you here. Are you going to be able to find your wayback?”
Alex had been in the process of pulling on his pants, but he stopped to hitch an eyebrow and take his phone from his jacket pocket. He waved it back and forth, eerily reminiscent of what Matthew had done earlier that night. Laurence’s stomach lurched, and he felt sick. What the hell had he been thinking? “I’ve got my choice—taxi or Uber. No matter which it is, someone’s going to be available to pick meup.”
“Let me give you some cash to pay for the trip, atleast.”
Alex finished slotting his belt into place. The expression on his face hardened worse than it had after Laurence had questioned whether painting was his full-time job. “Paying me isn’t going to make you feel any better about this, you know. Really, when it comes down to it, I think it’s going to make you feelworse.”
“I’m not trying to payyou—”
“And I’m not hurting for money, even though I’m an artist. I’ve got more than enough resources under my belt, and even if I’m in a tight situation, I’ve got a security net set up. You don’t have to worry about me. I can pay for dry-cleaning, a pair of new panties, and a cab ridehome.”
“It’sjust—”
“Shh.” Alex pressed a finger to Laurence’s lips, effectively shutting him up. Laurence didn’t try to speak again—his mind was too muddled with low-grade panic to properly string a sentence together. “You don’t have to put on a nice-guy act, okay? I know that you need me gone. I totally get it. If I were in your shoes, I’d want my much-younger lover out of the house ASAP after my son walked in on me boinking him. It’s fine. I’m not going to cause you trouble, I don’t need your help to get back home, and believe it or not, I’m not even all that torn up about thepanties.”
There was a pun in there somewhere, but Laurence was too broken up to make light of it. Henodded.
“So go apologize to your biological son, Daddy. It was fun while it lasted. Thanks for the dinner that never happened—at least dessert was worth sticking around for.” Alex winked, then made his way around the island and headed for thedoor.
He was gone before Laurence found the courage to saygoodbye.
The front door opened, then closed. Laurence shut his eyes and tried to drown out the world, but splotches of colored light waited for him behind his eyelids—red, white, and sometimes a dull purple-blue that blended into the darkness. They were amorphous phosphenes created by the biophotons of his own atoms—color across an otherwise dreary landscape. It was the closest to synesthesia he’d ever come, and it made him regret holding his tongue as Alex made his way out thedoor.
Laurence opened his eyes and blinked the lights away. He looked in the direction of the staircase and shrugged his suit jacket from his shoulders. He’d lost his chance with Alex, but he still had a chance to apologize to Matthew. He needed to say something before the situation got anyworse.
A deep breath displaced some of the weight from Laurence’s lungs. He puffed out his chest, lifted his chin, and told himself that it was going to be okay. All he had to do was talk it out and be honest. Matthew would come around. And one day, when Matthew was off to college or living on his own, Laurence would try his hand at romance again—after he’d changed the locks on the front door. But as Laurence washed his hands, then headed up the stairs, his thoughts wandered back to the way Alex had looked at him after they’d been interrupted. The cocky look on his face had been a little too confident, and the way he’d spoken his words a little too structured, almost like it wasscripted.
What colors was he seeing rightnow?
Laurence stopped outside Matthew’s door. He rolled his shoulders back, composed himself, then knocked. “Matthew?”
Noreply.
“Matthew, will you open the door so we can talk about what happened? You’re not in trouble and I’m not angry. I’m the one who needs toapologize.”
Nothing.
