“You’re gay?” Parker asked.
“I’m with Tanner,” he replied.
Parker frowned and shook his head as if Lancehadto be mistaken or simply confused or maybe both.
“No—” he said, looking sternly at Lance. “You’re not. Like—you’re not. You’ve had girlfriends and—”
Lance took another deep breath and resigned himself to the fact that there would be no fixing this. Not tonight. Not while standing in the middle of his mother’s fancy-assed driveway. He had to get Tanner home. That was his number one priority. Time to call a halt to this little after party and get his ass on the road, which is what he should have done in the first place.
“Tanner and I are together. End of story. I’m not asking for your permission. I don’t give a flying fuck what you think. I’ve given enough to this family over the years. Now if you’ll fucking excuse me, I’m done here and I’m heading home with my boyfriend.”
His mother scoffed, throwing her shoulders back and taking a step towards him.
“You can’t talk to me like that!” She snarled as she got up in his face, so Lance raised a hand in warning.
“I don’t owe you a goddamned thing. Maybe I did at one time. But not anymore. You need to remember that, if nothing else. So, with all due fucking respect, get the hell out of my way, right the fuck now,Mother dear.”
It must have been threatening enough because Parker jumped to pull Harriette backwards, out of Lance’s way. Lance put his arm around Tanner’s shoulders and helped him settle into the passenger seat. Tanner looked at him blankly the whole time, his gaze lost and distant. Lance fastened his seatbelt for him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
His mother just couldn’t leave well enough alone. She started in on him again as he hastened to the driver’s side.
“You’re embarrassing your family! Think of your brothers! You can’t—”
“Stop it! You know what’s embarrassing, Mom? Leaving your three kids to fend for themselves while you play pretend in a completely different city for three fucking years. You know what else is embarrassing? Refusing to call the cops on your abusive husband, even when he breaks a beer bottle over your son’s head simply because you’re afraid of what the neighbours will think. That—thatis truly fucking embarrassing!” At this point, he was yelling loudly enough that everyone within a two-block radius must have heard him. But he didn’t give a good goddamn. Let her deal with the repercussions of their showdown. She could just dig her own way out of the gossip pit. He was fucking done with her shit, her insults, and perpetually nasty attitude towards Tanner. He couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there and never darken her door again.
As she put a hand up to her mouth in shock, he yanked his car door open and slid in. Cranking the engine to life, he laid rubber all the way down her goddamned, fancy-assed driveway to the street. If she said anything else, he didn’t hear it. He’d already heard enough. More than enough.
*****
Tanner felt like a fly on the car’s windshield. He could seeeverything, but he felt paralysed, absent, completely fucking lost. Somewhere, somehow, he was aware of the argument next to the car between Lance and his mother. He was aware of the tension, the pain, the hurled insults. But it seemed as if he was now in a bubble. He could see things but couldn’t quite grasp them. Weirdly detached, he didn’t really feel much of anything, just watched things happen around him.
Lance was silent on the drive home. Clearly furious about his mother’s attack on him and Tanner yet keeping it in until they were home and safe. There was no denying the flash of anger and guilt in his eyes every time their gazes met. Tanner wanted to fix it—but right then, he didn’t have the mind space for anything more than a vague smile he hoped looked reassuring. Tanner wanted to help. Wanted to be the boyfriend Lance deserved, but he was still too far gone to say anything meaningful. So, he just drifted off, lulled by the silence and comfort of Lance’s presence.
When he finally emerged from his stupor, it was to rivulets of water running down his cheeks and Lance’s concerned frown. The hot water from the shower was doing a great job of drowning out the outside world, and safe with only Lance—he felt calmer than he had in hours.
“Hey,” Tanner said, running his hand tenderly along the edge of Lance’s jaw, enjoying the scratchiness of his short beard.
“Hey,” Lance replied, voice thick with emotion. “Welcome back,” he whispered and then kissed his cheek.
Tanner felt his heart swell with affection as his toes curled against the cold tile of the shower. Their shower. The one he shared with Lance. Home. Tanner had asked to be takenhome, and here they were. Tanner hugged him as hard as he could to convey the depth of his gratitude.
Someone hiccupped. Someone sobbed. Someone’s tears fell to the tile floor first, lost in the shower spray. It wasn’t just him, and it wasn’t just Lance. It was both of them, wrapped up in each other.
“I’m sorry,” Tanner said against Lance’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. So sorry.”
Lance laughed shakily and hugged him back, neither one wanting to let go. Not until the water started running cold. Then they jumped out of the shower and dived under the duvet on their bed. Arms and legs tangled, faces mere inches apart.
“You scared me,” Lance said, thumb brushing Tanner’s cheek. “I didn’t know what to do—I didn’t—didn’t want you to be scared,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.
“You shouldn’t have had to see that—I’m sorry I couldn’t—” but Tanner never got to finish, because Lance pressed his mouth to his in a voracious kiss.
“I want every piece of you. All of you, sweetheart. The good, the bad, the batshit crazy, all of it!” He was so adamant, so assertive, that Tanner had neither the strength nor desire to argue. Not right then. Not when his body felt so heavy with exhaustion, relief, and gratitude.
“But that argument you had with your mom—I should have said something. I should have defended you. I couldn’t think, couldn’t—”
“Shhh,” Lance said, kissing him again. “My mom’s not your worry.”
“It’s my fault she—”
