“Younevermean anything, do you, you piece of shit? What are you good for anyway? Not being a police officer for sure. What’s it like, being a useless waste of fucking space? Huh? I feel embarrassed to let anyone know I have a son! I can’t even tell anyone you’re a cop because you’re so fucking useless at your job!” The words kept coming, and Mark felt himself shrink further.
At least right until he felt Francis wrap his feet around Mark’s ankle. He squeezed until Mark opened his eyes and looked at him.
“Breathe,” Francis mouthed at him.
Mark glanced down and saw that Francis’s hand was on the table between them, palm up, ready for Mark to take if he needed it.
He wanted to, he so,sowanted to. But he couldn’t, not when his father’s tirade had reached the inevitable.
“What are you, a fucking useless faggot? I should’ve known, the way you liked to draw on everything! Listened to that sissy music, too! What’s wrong with you?” And on and on it went.
Eventually, Mark became numb, but that also helped him breathe better. He felt tethered to the situation by Francis’s feet and his presence, which seemed like a balm of sorts.
He wasn’t sure how long it took for Dad to run off steam, but he did, like always.
“We’ll call you on Wednesday.” The phone disconnected before Mark had time to say bye, not that he wanted to.
Francis reached over and pried the phone from his hand. He put it on the table and pushed the remnants of his slice of pie toward Mark. “Sugar. It’s good for you.”
Mark snorted and took his fork into his still shaky hand, and then lifted a piece of pie into his mouth. As he let it melt on his tongue, he could feel Francis start to withdraw his feet. Mark let out a small sound without meaning to, and Francis’s gaze turned sharp in the same way it had done in that bar restroom, and just like that, his feet were back, squeezing lightly.
Mark relaxed into his seat and ate the rest of Francis’s pie and drank his now cool coffee. He felt shaky on the inside, like he did every time they called. All public holidays were like catnip for his parents. At least he’d managed to convince them that the rumors of full moons being more violent and active in his profession were highly exaggerated. He couldn’t do this any more than he already had to.
The diner was almost empty, and Mark felt grateful. He hadn’t broken down in public before, and—it hit him; he hadn’t broken down this time, either. Because Francis had grounded him
Mark’s gaze snapped to Francis’s, and those all too knowing blue eyes stared back at him.
“Thank you,” Mark murmured, and felt something flutter inside his chest when the corner of Francis’s mouth curled up in a hint of a smile.
“You’re welcome.”
Francis then gestured at Leah to bring in his bill, and when she looked at Mark, he nodded, too. Might as well get going.
“Here you go, boys.” Leah brought them their bills and rolled her eyes at the big tips they both left her. “You’re silly, both of you. Now leave.”
Francis chuckled. Then he glanced at Mark. “You’re getting off shift and heading home?”
“Yeah, I already got my car so I don’t have to go to the station anymore.” The unspoken “why?” hung between them, until Francis seemed to make some sort of a decision.
“Do you want me to drive behind you, make sure you get home okay?” he asked in that low tone.
It made Mark’s spine tingle in a not completely pleasant way. He tried to snort but failed miserably. “I think I’m capable of driving a mile home safely.”
“Do you drive with shaky hands often?” Francis nodded toward his hands.
Mark looked down, and lo and behold, his hands were still trembling. He felt almost startled, in some weird way.
“Look, I don’t know how careful I should be with you, so I’m just going to say this,” Francis started quietly. “I’m worried. I’m not offering to follow you because I want to do something like we did in Green Bay. I just want to make sure you get home safe, even as close as it is.”
Mark hadn’t even thought of… the Green Bay thing. But now that Francis mentioned it, he felt as if his body flushed hot at the memory of that night, terrifying as it had been afterward.
“I….” Mark licked his lips, unable to pull up his professional persona and act unaffected by the situation. “If I wanted you to follow meforthat….”
And there was the grin that had started to appear in Mark’s fantasies when he jerked off alone.
“I think that would be possible. But fair warning,” he said. “This won’t be like it was before. There’s gonna be some talking first. That’s the price of it. For consent, what we did… I don’t think it was enough.” Francis seemed almost apologetic
Mark frowned. “Okay, I guess that’s fine.”
