This is a re-working of a classic as suggested by loves_SG1.
"What in the world!?" Surging to his feet from his desk and heading to the door of his office, he flung it open and stared at the sight.
"Oh, hi, Dad."
"What is that?"
"Hey there, Will," the other man shouted.
William gritted his teeth. He hated being called Will. He glared at the equipment being carried through his house.
"Is this all really necessary?" he asked.
"'Fraid so, Dad. The turntables and speakers are needed for the music. Don't worry. It'll be wired up correctly so that the music reaches down the full length of the garden, the patio where the barbeque will be, as well as the swimming pool. The party's going to be just great. Peter will love it."
"I doubt it, Alan," William said shaking his head.
"I'll be with you in a minute H-Man," Alan said, detouring from his assignment to follow his father into the older man's study. "What's wrong, Dad?" he asked as he closed the study door.
"Peter is going to know this is a set-up. Why not just be honest with him. You finally want to settle down and marry. You can't inherit your grandfather's legacy unless Peter is married first. For all you know he may already be dating."
"He isn't. I checked," Alan said sullenly.
"Couldn't you at least have talked openly to him?"
"I tried, but at the mention of Leigh he didn't want to hear any more. I want him to be happy, too, Dad. It's not just that I want the inheritance, although I do want to give Leigh the best life I can," Alan said passionately.
"I just think this is the wrong way for a man like Peter," William sighed. "I think you should have just gone and talked to him."
"I will, Dad, I promise."
****
Peter groaned as he disembarked at Reno airport. He was glad to have concluded his business and wished he could just drive out to his remote mountain home. At least he could start to relax knowing he could just throw his stuff in a cab and get to his father's house and crash. He hated travelling; he hated crowds and their almost overwhelming odours, and he hated loud noise. All he wanted was to get where he could dump his belongings, take a hot, unhurried shower and relax.
Alighting from the cab, Peter stared, struck dumb at the sight. Two statuesque males stood outside his family home. That might not have given him pause for thought if they had been wearing more than tight shorts and tank tops. The sound of music, not the soft jazz his father preferred, but the insistent beat of more modern offerings was audible even from the drive.
Almost in a daze, Peter picked up his meagre luggage and began to head to the house. The two men looked him over, each smiling and licking their lips as they saw him. Their gazes were almost predatory, despite which, Peter felt himself begin to harden.
Shaking off the slight haze of primitive arousal and lust, Peter stomped towards the front door. Using his key he opened it and stepped inside. The music assailed his ears even here. Deciding that a shower and change of clothes were essential, due to his own sweat offending his sensitive nose, Peter headed to where his room was always kept ready.
With a sigh of relief he stripped. He regarded his nude body as he adjusted the water for his shower. His close cropped dark hair was still one colour, although perhaps a little thinner at the front than it used to be. However, he was still sleek and powerfully muscled. He took care to maintain his fitness. There was only himself to rely on in his home. Nearby neighbours were miles, not moments away. His sky-blue eyes regarded his physique critically before he turned back to the shower. When he felt more human he would find out just what the Hell was going on.
Showered and changed, Peter exited his room and began his search for his father or brother. It seemed the music was everywhere and so far Peter had found neither his father nor his brother. He decided to take his search outside. He stared at the men milling around.
He could tell the serving staff from the guests by the fact they wore black shorts and a bow tie. He waved away a bleached blond who had a tray with hors d'ouvres. At the moment he had no appetite. He continued his search, moving into the more sparsely occupied areas of the house's grounds. He heard a soft murmur of voices, one of which was a gentle baritone that seemed to soothe his rapidly fraying nerves.
Looking into an arbour, he saw one of the many waiters with a guest who looked as out of place as he felt. He was illuminated by a lamp. His auburn hair seemed almost to glow and Peter could see intelligent, smoky-blue eyes that sparkled with intelligence and humour. He was also closely examining the waiter's nipple piercing and, as ridiculous as it was, a shard of possessive jealousy stabbed through him.
"Don't you have a job to do?" he growled angrily at the hapless waiter. It gave him a modicum of satisfaction that the younger man looked chagrined and jumped back from the other man.
"Don't you have any manners?" the auburn-haired man retaliated, standing.
"I am working," the waiter said apologetically. "I can look out for you at the end of my shift. See you around."
"Just who do you think you are, apart from a no-mannered Neanderthal?" the auburn-haired man demanded.
"The son of the man who owns the house," Peter said smugly.
"Oh," came the erudite reply. "That still doesn't give you the right to be rude," the younger man added scowling.
"At least I wasn't trying to seduce the serving staff," Peter growled.
"Neither was I. I just admired the way he had used his grandfather's wedding ring as a nipple decoration."
"What are you, some kind of fetish enthusiast?" Peter sneered.
