by SE Culpepper
The drive to his parent’s house was nerve-wracking because Alarik was following in his own car, which took away the opportunity for any last minute advice or preparations. He really hoped that Alarik meant what he said because this whole evening could go very badly. His allies weren’t even certain. Luke, Todd and Franco had been known to abandon years of friendship in favor of pleasing Molly. Jess was in her own world of misery with a relationship on the rocks. Mandy and Sandra were neutral islands that their husband’s would escape to when the fire got too hot. That left Davey and his dad. Things weren’t looking good.
The rain had eased up by the time they arrived, which was nice because everyone had taken all the good parking spots near the house and he and Alarik had to slosh through puddles. They were halfway up the walk when the door banged open and Davey appeared on the porch to greet them with a dance that was apparently a crossover between three, maybe four, different styles.
“Uncle Day!” he shouted in his squeaky, kid voice.
“Yo, little man. Stay out of the rain; I’ll come to you.”
Alarik murmured behind him. “He’s really your nephew, right? You didn’t discover him with other murderous youngsters in a field of corn?”
“Why?” Damon grinned as he lifted Davey into a tight hug. “Is it bad if I did?”
“Hi,” Davey interrupted, staring at Alarik with an assessing gaze.
Crap. Mom said something to him.
“Hello,” Alarik answered, staring back just as solemnly. “How do you do?”
“How do I do what?”
“How do you dance like that?”
Davey shrugged. “Practice. In front of my mom, mostly.”
“Well, you’re quite good. I wish I had your talent.”
There was a moment of silence as Davey considered this. His little face was pinched up as whatever thought process he was going through ran to its finish. “I can teach you how to dance.”
Alarik gasped. “Do you mean it? Really? Because if you’re just saying that to make me feel better, I’ll be quite hurt.”
Davey smiled shyly and turned so he could look right into his uncle’s eyes. “He sounds funny,” he stage whispered and Alarik laughed.
Jess appeared in the doorway and held her arms out for her son. “Sorry… Hi. Alarik, is it? Come on in; everybody’s here.” She managed to shake hands, take Davey, pat Damon on the arm and hold the door for them. “Mom’s in the kitchen flirting with Todd. Luke’s showing dad pictures from some honeymoon snorkeling expedition, and Franco is being lectured by Mandy and Sandra. I think that covers it.”
“How’s mom’s mood?” Damon asked, taking Alarik’s hand.
“Oh, she’s…ready to see you guys!”
Alarik listened to all of this with a calm that Damon knew was entirely authentic. How he envied it! At least he was bringing home someone he could be proud of.
Alarik tightened his grip and gave Damon’s hand a quick kiss. “Do it for England,” he whispered.
***
Molly Wright was formidable, but Alarik was determined to prove himself to her. He felt her eyes on him from the moment he entered the house. She’d been washing dishes, but when he came into view, she’d maneuvered around everyone with a purpose—like a tank knocking over saplings. He knew he couldn’t try to charm her like he had in the store; she would be expecting that. Yet, his secret weapon was that he was in love with Damon and he hoped that by the end of the night, both she and her son would know it.
She’d offered her hand with a cool smile that he returned with his warmest, and even though he had no intention of schmoozing his way into her good graces, he wasn’t above thickening his English accent for her. Very quickly he realized this was one of the best ideas he’d ever had. Her smile thawed for half a beat before she ushered them further into the house.
Leo Wright was welcoming in his own quiet way, but something about him made a very deep impression on Alarik. Looking at him, it was clear where Damon got his blue eyes and build, though Leo was thinner and his body showed the signs of a lifelong battle with a bad heart. Damon had given Alarik the background on his father’s illness, but in person, it was clear the toll it had taken. His voice was strong and healthy, but his body seemed tired. It made Alarik want to hold Damon very close.
Jessica was distracted by her own life, smiling at him and disappearing into her own thoughts again; she didn’t seem to care one way or the other about her brother’s sexual orientation and whom he brought home.
Mandy was smug and triumphant over her matchmaking skills, Sandra was buzzed and happy, which put Franco in a good mood because he wasn’t being lectured anymore, and Todd was chopping something in the kitchen. The only greeting the guy had offered was a wave with a glinting butcher knife in hand, but at least he was smiling.
Molly separated Alarik from Damon immediately, pulling him toward the kitchen and handing him a dishtowel. “I’ll wash, you dry.” When she caught Todd watching over his shoulder, she pointed at him in that menacing way mothers had. “Eyes on your own paper, Todd. Chop.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, “After you give me a kiss.” He pointed to his cheek.
Molly snatched the towel from Alarik’s hand, wound it up and let it fly at Todd’s ass. The snapping noise echoed in the room and Todd clutched his left butt cheek, hissing as he hopped out of distance. Alarik discreetly turned his rear end toward the wall
“Chop!” she ordered, but with an attractive blush on her cheeks. Her auburn hair was down around her shoulders and Alarik realized she looked quite young for her age. Todd was probably serious about getting that kiss.
“Have you ever had your picture taken professionally?” he blurted without thinking, then bit his tongue over how inane he sounded. It was like he was hitting on her.
Molly’s eyes narrowed and Todd, still rubbing his sore ass cheek, didn’t bother hiding his laughter. “Why do you ask?”
Yes, he thought, why did you ask, you fucking idiot!
“There’s something about Damon that I believe he must get from you—something very photographable. I asked out of habit; I’m sorry.”
Molly nervously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and gave a dry laugh. “We had a family picture taken when Damon was in high school.”
“No wedding photography?”
Molly waggled a hand in front of her, dismissing the notion. “Oh, we couldn’t afford that back then. We were only twenty and a Justice of the Peace married us. I didn’t even wear a dress! That family picture is in the dining room; I can show you later.”
Alarik told her how he’d like that and accepted the plate she handed him to dry. Todd was chopping away at vegetables, surprisingly quiet for once. Molly wasn’t exactly effusive, but she was kind, asking questions about his work and more about how he and Damon met. At one point, her son tried to enter the kitchen on a rescue mission and she sent him right back out again to set the table. Damon gave him an apologetic don’t-quit-on-me-now look and left.
Alarik had been expecting antagonism, but he could see now that Molly was kind, she simply didn’t suffer fools gladly. She loved Damon very much and was just a little more clear about letting Alarik know this was an interview, not just dinner.
At the table, he sat between Damon and Todd and across from Mandy and Luke. Since the Wright’s hadn’t seen the newlyweds in more than a month, there was a lot of discussion about the honeymoon and the insanely expensive vehicle parked by the curb. When Luke gushed about the sound system, Todd snorted and had to pretend he was choking on a bite of potato. Alarik thumped him on the back dutifully, his eyes on his plate.
Leo asked Alarik a lot of questions out of genuine interest, yet Molly’s inquiries sounded a little more like each one ended with a silent: because I want to know if you’re good enough for my son. Every now and then, beneath the table, Damon would squeeze his leg in encouragement—unless that was Todd squeezing him, then he had a whole new set of problems.
When dinn
er was finished, Molly moved everyone to the living room where Jess, Mandy, and Sandra decided that the best thing to aid in their digestion was the movie, Dirty Dancing. Alarik was secretly pleased about it because he probably enjoyed Patrick Swayze’s chest more than they did. It was much like Damon’s, after all.
He was about to sit down when Molly called him back into the dining room. Alarik found her staring at the family picture he’d somehow missed during dinner. The sight of Damon standing beside his father, his hand on his older sister’s shoulder, made Alarik’s face break into a huge smile.
Damon was as tall in the picture as he was now, but about two stones lighter. His hair was the same color; he had braces on his teeth that seemed quite extensive for the average teenager to haul around. He was, in short, adorable.
“Look at him,” Alarik chuckled. “I love it; this is a very nice family picture.”
“It’s terrible,” Molly poked him in the arm. “You know it. You could see the shoulder pads I was wearing from outer space and it looks like we were starving Damon. Jess has some problems of her own, though.”
Alarik looked back at the picture and his lips gave a definite twitch. She’d done something with the fringe of her hair that made it stand straight up, like she’d just seen a mouse and screamed until her hair stood on end.
Molly crossed her arms and shifted so they were actually brushing shoulders as they looked at the picture. She was only an inch or two shorter than he was.
“Leo is about the only one who looks normal, aside from that porn star mustache of his.” The second the words left her mouth, Alarik could tell that she was dying to reel them back in. “Oh no, I just said that!”
Their eyes met and they both had to stifle their laughter. Alarik pressed his face into the crook of his elbow and Molly had both hands clamped over her mouth. She kept making the laughter worse by whispering things like, “I always hated it!” and “He wore that goddamn thing on his face for five years.”
Alarik kept thinking he’d be able to pull himself together and then he’d catch a glimpse of that mustache again, and he was right back where he started. “It’s making a statement, isn’t it?” he asked.
Molly snickered and grabbed his upper arm for support. “If it were only about the mustache, he could’ve been famous!”
Damon found them like this, with Alarik swiping tears from his eyes and Molly hiding her rosy red cheeks. “Which is it—the mustache or the braces?” he drawled.
“The mustache,” they said together.
He came up behind them and rested his hands on Alarik’s shoulders. Molly took this in with an unreadable look, but Alarik didn’t think she was displeased. The time between them this evening was turning out so differently than he’d imagined, though her watchfulness was exactly what he’d counted on.
“I actually brought the pictures I took at Luke and Mandy’s wedding; they’re out in the car. Shall I bring them in? There are several of Damon.”
Molly was pleased but Damon groaned. Alarik turned so he could see him face to face and gave a warning look. “The pictures of you are exceptional, and it’s not because of my photography. It’s because of you.”
Molly’s eyes wouldn’t stop dancing between them, and surprising them both, she reached out and pinched Damon hard on the arm. “They can’t be any worse than this picture, right?” she jerked her thumb toward the shoulder pads, mustache, braces, and wall of hair.
Alarik had used the evenings he wasn’t working on his plans for Nowhere, Idaho to polish up the pictures from the wedding and package them. He’d boxed several of the pictures, framed two, and made an album. Since he was seeing Damon this weekend, he figured he’d have a chance to drop them off with the newlyweds, but this worked out even better.
He stuffed the album and the box of pictures under his jacket because the rain had started again, and Damon carried the two large frames. When they came back inside, it was obvious the news had traveled fast. Nobody was paying attention to Patrick Swayze anymore.
Molly cleared the dining table for him and he laid everything out, keeping the framed images face down. Mandy was practically dancing with her excitement, squeezing Luke’s hand and grinning.
“Go ahead, love,” Alarik said, waving toward the pictures. “Look at the album first, if you like.”
Mandy opened the book and the collective gasp was incredibly flattering. The shots were presented along the timeline of the wedding day, beginning with the wedding brunch and ending with the ceremony. Not a single shot was posed, and Alarik was proud of that. It looked as though the pair were in their own world. The silhouette of Mandy that he’d taken at the brunch actually made Luke turn around in his chair and shake his hand.
“Unbelievable, dude,” he said. “Really. Better than the stuff the wedding photographer took.” Mandy agreed with a nod, her eyes never leaving the book.
Alarik smiled modestly, thrilled they liked the work he’d done. “The ones in the box are duplicates in different sizes, but you can let me know if there’s a particular size you need and I’ll take care of it. Check out the framed ones.” He pointed at the two heavy frames. “The one on the left first, Luke.”
Luke lifted the picture carefully and turned it over. “Ohhhhh, man!”
Franco, Todd, Damon and Luke all leaned in closer to see the picture of the four of them talking. They were each laughing—Todd next to Damon, leaning on his shoulder, and Luke across from Franco, who was saying something they all apparently found amusing.
Luke didn’t waste time with a handshake; he stood and pulled Alarik into a quick hug. “That shit got me this close to crying. Thank you.” He nudged the other guys after he released Alarik. “Look at us! We’re hot!”
Molly was beside Damon and her eyes were actually misty. “The pictures are all so beautiful! You did such a wonderful job.” Leo, at her side, was nodding his agreement.
“Thank you, Mrs. Wright.”
“Molly, please…” she said absently, looking at the picture of the boys together.
Damon wrapped an arm around him and kissed his temple. “That’s really great, Alarik. Wow.”
Alarik gave him a squeeze back. “I have another three for you, Todd and Franco.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, sir. In the backseat.”
Todd and Franco slapped him on the back in appreciation and Mandy moved to grab the second frame, which was quite large.
He’d had the picture professionally matted so that a small plaque beneath the picture, engraved with the words The Fox Hunt, could be added. The shot he’d chosen was one with Damon, Todd, and Luke neck and neck, racing across the lawn and nearly lapping the women of the bridal party. The color was desaturated, almost sepia toned, but the effect of the picture was funnier and more lovely than he’d thought it would be.
It was one of those good memories in solid form…
Luke pointed at Damon, “See, Todd, he won!”
Todd shook his head vehemently. “I disagree completely.”
Franco edged forward and leaned over Luke’s shoulder. “Where am I?”
Sandra reached an arm through a gap amongst the onlookers and pointed to where he was, bringing up the rear of the pack. “What’d I say about cigarettes! Although—you’ve got a cute ass, baby.”
Jess had been silent most of the time, holding onto Davey’s hand as she looked over the pictures. When their eyes met, she smiled at Alarik. The poor girl, she was miserable with her romantic life just now and forced to look at a happy couple’s wedding photographs. He smiled back at her and she looked away.
The newlyweds were the first to go that night, followed soon after by Franco and Sandra. Davey was carted home for his bath, promising that he would teach Alarik some dance moves soon. Todd, Damon, and Alarik were the last to leave and it felt like a true victory when Molly gave him and Todd the same gentle push off of her front steps, saying, “See you boys again soon. Watch the roads in this rain!”
Todd smiled at t
he two of them and shook their hands. “You were a hit, Mr. Bond. It looks like you’re a part of the family.”
Alarik bowed. “I aim to please.”
“I know,” Todd laughed. “Damon told me.”
“Don’t be a dick,” Damon grumbled.
Todd lifted his hands in surrender. “Is it still just you and me on the climb tomorrow afternoon?”
“Yeah, Alarik has to head back to L.A. around ten and Luke told me he’s gotta go into work to catch up on some things, so, he can’t come.”
“Alright, cool. I’ll be at your place around eleven, then.” He took a few steps toward his car before turning around to wave again. “Seat belts and condoms, gentlemen. Safety first, Alarik.”
“Oh, piss off!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The shower cut off and Damon scooted up in the bed so his back was to the headboard. His room looked and felt different than before because Alarik had been in it. They’d made love again, slow and easy, and this time, Alarik took control. Damon never thought he’d be so okay with that. Everywhere that he’d been touched, every kiss and move that Alarik made, spoke of his experience, which was good and bad at the same time. It made Damon wonder just how much experience was behind that touch. Were there a lot of guys…? A lot of models? Eww. How many?
What does it matter, he immediately answered himself; he’s with you now and nobody else. You trust him!
Alarik appeared in the doorway, a towel around his waist, finger combing his hair back from his face. When he saw Damon waiting for him, he came around the bed and dropped a kiss on his lips.
“I have something for you; give me a moment.”
Damon watched as he left and listened to him rustling through his bag in the living room. A minute later, he was back with his hands hiding something behind his back. “I have two surprises, actually.”
Damon rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Lay ‘em on me.”
“Number one.” He held out a picture frame, face down. “I have a copy on my desk—in L.A. and New York.”