© 2013 ChicosTodos. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
If you are a minor, or if it is illegal for you to read material containing sexual activity between male adults, please refrain from reading any further.
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Danny awoke with a start.
"Mom??" He remembered chopped chives, scrambled eggs solidifying in a skillet, and a shining butcher knife raised high.
It took him a moment to get his bearings. The alarm clock was beeping.
No, his mom wasn't chasing Roberto around the kitchen table with a butcher knife. That was just a dream.
As Danny's emotions calmed and reality set in, he reminded himself of the day's events. He wasn't looking forward to the presentation that Friday morning, his first one. The copywriter hated public speaking; he thought he'd successfully steered clear of that by choosing a career in writing. Even though he was prepared, slides all made and notes all done, he was still worried about what everyone would think of him.
But he had something to look forward to after work as well, hopefully two things. The first was the surprise visit he planned for his mechanic boyfriend, to spice up his extra-long day at work.
The second was spending the night at Roberto's place, where they can sleep in a bit Saturday morning before the mechanic started work at noon.
Of course, there was a technicality to take care of: Danny's parents didn't know he was going to sleep over, yet.
For all he knew, his mom and dad might've thought that he hadn't had sex with Roberto yet. The two times he'd slept over at his boyfriend's since they become monogamous recently, Danny told them he was sleeping over at his best friend Richie's. Now, he was going to tell them he planned to stay over at Roberto's. What would they think of their good little boy?
And then there was his relationship with Richie. He hadn't had a meaningful talk, or really hung out with Richie in months. That was a whole other issue, and Danny didn't know how to deal with it.
He got up and looked out the bedroom window. Heavy rain outside, whipping across the glass pane under fierce winds. Walking downstairs to the kitchen, he saw his dad Pierre turning back and forth between the stove, the fridge, and his iPhone in quick, hurried steps.
"Bonjour, papa," Danny said, sliding into a kitchen chair.
Pierre looked up at him and smiled. "Bonjour Danny...your mother's feeling a little bit sick, so I'm making breakfast this morning."
"Is she okay?" his son asked.
"Her stomach's a little bit sensitive from the feast last night. Don't worry; I've got this all under control..." His father pulled open a drawer and started digging through the clanging utensils. "The measuring cup, where is it?"
"I dunno..." Danny replied, getting up to help his dad. The two men rummaged through a few more drawers, then went up to the cupboards until they finally found the cup. They both chuckled at how useless they were without Ms. Yeung.
"Sit down," Pierre urged, pouring flour into the plastic cup. Danny went back to the kitchen table, delighted that he was going to have freshly made pancakes for breakfast.
"And tell me more about Roberto."
Danny's face fell. His father sensed Danny's tension.
"He seems to be an interesting guy."
"...yeah," Danny replied, grabbing the carton of milk from the fridge.
"Certainly smart and hardworking. And good-looking. I'm surprised your mom hasn't mentioned him before."
"Really? She was so sure he was gonna ruin my life," his son answered, pouring milk into a glass.
Pierre thought for a moment, stirring the flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt in a bowl. "...this is the same guy, Roberto, the seducer?" He thought for a moment. "Mais oui...it makes sense now."
"What do you mean?" Danny asked, looking at his dad.
"Your mom and I talked last night about you and your new boyfriend," Pierre responded, mixing eggs and milk together in a separate bowl. "She was worried. That's normal, for her. She had her heart broken before..."
"What??" his son exclaimed, eager to hear about a part of his mom's life that he never heard about, ever.
"Mais oui...and she's worried the same heartbreak will happen to you. But you know what I told her?" Pierre shot a glance at his son before mixing the dry and wet ingredients together.
"I said, 'Danny, he's a young man now. He's always been a good boy, because we raised him up well. Now, we have to trust him to make his own decisions. He has to do that, in order to grow up to be a good man."
Danny felt a lump in his throat. "And...what did mom say?"
Pierre did an over-the-top impersonation of his dramatic wife, bringing a wide smile to his son's face. "Oh, you know, blah blah blah, 'but Roberto's a bad bad man'....and I said, 'You liked him a lot during dinner'."
"She did?" Danny asked, hopeful.
"Bien sûr. He was so charming, so friendly." The Frenchman tested the heat of the stove. "And he can cook," Pierre added, as he shot another glance at his son, this time with an arched eyebrow. "Good choice."
"You like him, dad?" the copywriter asked quietly, holding his breath.
"Ben...do you like him? Are you happy together?" Pierre poured the mixture into the pan. The batter sizzled.
"I love him," Danny replied, his expression certain, still.
Pierre puffed out his cheeks and exhaled, grabbing the spatula.
"He's good to you? He doesn't hurt you?" he asked, turning back to the frying pan.
His son paused and looked away. After a wordless moment, Pierre turned back around, eyebrows arching high.
