by L. A. Witt
“Mom, this is Colin, my roommate.”
Daniel cleared his throat and gestured toward the parking lot. “Well, we’d better get going if we’re going to beat the lines. We’ve still got a forty-five minute drive to Williamsburg, assuming traffic is clear.”
“All right.” Daniel’s dad nodded toward the door. “Let’s roll!”
Since Daniel’s truck only seated three, he’d borrowed a car from a shipmate, and this one fit everybody more or less comfortably. Daniel drove, his mother rode shotgun, and Colin sat behind her with Christina in the middle and Dad on the end.
The family had decided on going to Colonial Williamsburg. Colin had been there several times in the past—usually when friends or family were visiting from out of town—but it was colorful and interesting, so he didn’t mind wandering through it again. He told himself he’d make sure to point everyone in the direction of that restaurant with the peanut butter soup. And he’d have some himself because it was absolutely divine.
Yeah, we’ll see how that goes.
He shifted uncomfortably, trying not to draw attention to himself. No matter how anxious he was, today was not going to be ruled by his eating disorder demons. And besides, he’d be walking all damn day, so what was a cup of soup, even if the calories per square inch were eye-wateringly—
No. Stop. You’re not even there yet.
Quit reading labels on food you haven’t ordered.
He pushed those thoughts out of his head.
For now, anyway.
* * *
For as many times as Colin had been to Colonial Williamsburg, he had to admit it was a hell of a lot more fun with Daniel’s family.
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected. An incredibly religious family had always been, in his mind, stuffy and snide. No boisterousness at all. Completely prim and proper, especially in public.
That was not the Moore family.
In front of the Capitol near the beginning of the tour, Daniel’s parents posed for an American Gothic type photo. It took Daniel three tries to get the picture, too, because they all kept erupting into giggles. When the fife band marched by, Daniel and his sister did Thriller poses for yet another photo. More than once, Daniel’s dad randomly pretended to be a plainclothes tour guide, spouting absolutely ridiculous facts about the nonexistent von Fencepost dynasty and their brief but eventful rule over Williamsburg. People gathered and listened intently, and they were absolutely falling for it, but seemed to wise up around the time he mentioned the devastating battle in 1762, which was ignited over a dispute regarding a patent for wig powder made from crab shells and cocaine.
As guarded as he was, Colin had to admit Daniel’s family was even more fun than his own.
Every so often, as they wandered through the reconstructed town, Colin glanced from one family member to the next. The family resemblance was uncanny. Daniel had his mother’s eyes and prominent cheekbones, and his father’s distinctive nose and jawline. He and Christina shared the dark hair and that adorable smile. There was absolutely no mistaking who his parents were.
And these were the people who had Daniel shoved so far into the closet, he was damn near giving himself an ulcer over it?
Colin could barely make sense of it. His own family had always accepted him, but he’d known plenty of people who hadn’t been so lucky. It was easy to tell himself their families had always been assholes, and they’d just been morality vultures, circling overhead and waiting for the sin to show itself so they could rip their child to shreds and leave them to rot.
It was a lot harder to realize and accept that Daniel’s family was—homophobia aside—great.
He knew damn well this was just wholesome candy-coating surrounding a putrid filling of homophobia, but damn if the coating wasn’t persuasive. When the whole family was laughing about something, or when they were all posing together for a group photo in front of a shop or a house, it was hard to comprehend these perfectly pleasant people had chewy bigoted centers.
But for today, all he had to deal with was the exterior. Just keep his hands to himself, play the platonic, heterosexual friend, and enjoy the day. Daniel needed that much from him.
So, they continued through the reconstructed colonial town, touring houses and shops, listening to people in period costumes talk about Williamsburg’s heyday. Though Colin had done this a few times, it was always interesting, so he happily followed along.
And hell, even if he was just being the straight buddy today, at least he was around Daniel. He’d been going nuts without him. The sex he could do without. God gave him hands for a reason, after all. Plus they’d kept their text exchanges going, so he nearly always had a message from Daniel when he finished at the gym or wrapped up a tattoo. But that still wasn’t enough. He missed just being around Daniel. Somehow, in just a couple months, Daniel had gone from a crush at the gym to a fixture in Colin’s world, and it was bizarre to go more than a day without seeing his face or hearing his voice.
And damn it, I just want to touch you.
Not even in a naked, horny, God I can’t get enough kind of way. He missed resting a hand on Daniel’s calf while they lay in opposite directions on his bed to watch a movie. He missed the way Daniel’s short hair felt between his fingers, and the scruff of his unshaven jaw when he woke up in the morning.
You’re right here, but I miss you.
Wandering through houses with the family, he let himself steal a few glances. Just soak him in and be here, be with him. Touching would happen later, and he could wait if it meant not putting Daniel in a disastrous situation with his parents.
During one of the tours, they joined a larger group and followed their costumed guide through the home of one of Williamsburg’s governors. At one point, while they were crammed into a room and listening to the guide explaining the history of the building and the family who’d lived here, Daniel’s hand brushed Colin’s. They both jumped, exchanging wide-eyed glances, and inched apart as much as the crowd would let them.
Colin quickly shifted his attention back to the tour guide, but he didn’t hear much of what the man said. His focus kept zeroing in on that tingle on the backs of his fingers and the hint of a prickle lingering in his forearm where all those goose bumps had been.
What the hell? He was used to being out in public with a guy and not being able to show affection.
Except this was different.
They weren’t hiding from the public. They were hiding from Daniel’s mom, Daniel’s dad, Daniel’s sister.
The tour guide motioned toward a door, and the crowd started filing across the room. Colin fell into step behind Daniel’s parents and sister. He didn’t dare steal so much as a backward glance at Daniel.
Shit. If he hadn’t been on edge before, he was now. He was afraid to even look at Daniel after that. Whenever they stopped, they both carefully put some breathing room between them, and God, wasn’t that the weirdest thing in the world—deliberately not being close to Daniel. They hadn’t even had to do that on the ship. Sure, they couldn’t be overly affectionate outside Daniel’s shop, but there’d been no danger in a long look or a brief touch. Even fooling around in the shop had been less risky than standing just a little too close right now.
And if I’m this stressed out, Daniel must be losing his mind.
* * *
After wandering through a good chunk of the reconstructed town, the group stopped in an intersection to gather their bearings.
“I think the jail cells are over that way.” Colin gestured to their right. “That’s where they kept Blackbeard and his crew at some point.”
“Oh that sounds cool,” Daniel said.
“Why don’t you guys go on ahead?” his mother said. “Christina and I are going to go find a restroom, and then we’ll catch up.”
“Actually, I’m going to do the same.” Daniel’s dad motioned toward the jail. “Meet you two over that way?”
“Sure,” Daniel said. “See you in a few.”
; The family split up, and as soon as they were out of earshot, Colin quietly asked, “Doing okay?”
Daniel nodded, rolling his visibly stiff shoulders, though he kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. “You?”
“Yep.”
Are you lying? Because I’m lying.
But he’d promised to be here to support Daniel, not drag him down. Even if he wasn’t okay—God, he so wasn’t—now wasn’t the time for Daniel to know that.
The town’s jail wasn’t far ahead, and the cells where Blackbeard and his crew had allegedly stayed were open and empty.
“Glad we came on a weekday,” Colin said. “Otherwise this would be about ten people deep.”
“Eww. No thanks. I hate crowds.”
“Seriously.”
Daniel read a placard outside the jail cell. “Huh. Cool. Let’s take a look inside.”
“There isn’t really much in there.” Colin shrugged. “Just an empty room where someone allegedly kept Blackbeard.”
“Just Blackbeard’s cell.” Daniel clicked his tongue. “Come on. I want to see it.”
Colin just chuckled and followed him. Daniel went in first, and as Colin came in after, he said, “See? It’s just an empty—”
Daniel hauled him away from the doorway, cupped both sides of his neck, and kissed him.
Colin froze, disbelieving, for about two seconds. He quickly came to his senses, though, and grabbed on for dear life. After keeping their distance and avoiding so much as eye contact, this was rain in a desert.
Daniel pulled back. “Fuck. I’ve been needing to do that all day.”
Colin released a ragged breath. “Y-yeah. Me, too.”
“We should—”
Voices and footsteps outside startled them completely apart. They both cleared their throats and surreptitiously adjusted the front of their jeans a second before a group of kids came thundering into the cell.
Wow. Could we have timed that one any better?
He met Daniel’s gaze, and . . . hell, what else could they do but laugh? Yeah, the moment had been interrupted too soon, but the moment had happened, and now Colin stood a faint chance of getting through this day without falling apart. He probably wouldn’t get another opportunity for a touch, and doubted either of them would dare steal another kiss, but it was like a promise of everything that waited for them later.
Just a few more days, the tingle in his lips told him. Then this is all yours.
And it would absolutely be worth the wait.
* * *
As the family walked down one of the main streets where there were some shops and restaurants as well as exhibits, Daniel’s mom made a quietly disapproving noise. Colin thought Daniel or his sister must’ve been goofing around again, but then their father grumbled something, too.
“Disgusting,” he muttered a bit more clearly.
“What is wrong with people these days?” Daniel’s mom said under her breath.
Beside Colin, Daniel tensed. His jaw tightened and he stared straight ahead. His sister did the same.
What the hell?
Colin looked around, wondering what in the world had everyone bristling so hard. He glanced at Daniel, and their eyes met. Colin lifted his eyebrows.
Daniel nodded past him, lips tightening, and then looked straight ahead again.
Colin followed the way he’d indicated.
Oh.
Now it made sense.
Standing in front of a shop, a soda cup in one hand and his phone in the other, blissfully unaware of the judgmental tourists from Idaho, was a young man wearing a rainbow flag T-shirt. He stood with his hip cocked just slightly, scrolling through his phone while he sipped his drink, and Colin thought the kid even had his nails painted.
Talk about mixed feelings.
On one hand, Colin wanted to roll his eyes and give Daniel’s family an earful for being such assbags about it. On the other, he had to smile to himself.
Good for you, kid. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.
Fortunately, it only took a few minutes for the kid’s existence to be mostly forgotten, and the tension among the Moore family gradually eased. There were costumed actors, the odd carriage, and an approaching fife band—tricorn hats and all—to grab everyone’s attention.
Colin couldn’t forget that kid, though.
While Daniel’s parents had wrinkled their noses at him, had it dawned on them once that they were also wrinkling their noses at their own son? Of course it hadn’t. They’d have confronted him right there in the street if it had crossed their minds. No, they had no idea their son was twisting in the wind, desperate for the confidence to tell them who he really was, or that beside him, Colin’s lips were still tingling from a stolen kiss in Blackbeard’s cell.
Jesus. No wonder Daniel had needed some moral support. Now Colin felt like an ass for even questioning the request to come along.
“So, anyone in the mood for lunch?” Daniel’s mom broke the silence, smiling like everything was normal.
“I’m getting hungry,” Christina said.
Colin cleared his throat, wondering when his mouth had gone dry. “There’s a place a few doors down that has amazing food. They’ve got a peanut butter soup that’s incredible.”
Christina’s lips twisted with disgust. “Peanut butter soup?”
“Trust me.” He laughed. “It sounds gross, but it’s really good.”
“I’d be willing to try it,” their father said. “They have other things on the menu?”
“Oh yeah. That’s just kind of the highlight.”
“Sounds fine to me,” their mother said. “Daniel, what do you think?”
Daniel shrugged. “Yeah. That works.” His eyes flicked toward Colin, and Colin swore he’d turned slightly green. Probably not over the peanut butter soup.
Oblivious to the nausea her son was wearing on his sleeve, Mrs. Moore said, “All right. Lead the way, Colin.”
Colin plastered on a smile. “This way.”
They continued walking, and for the millionth time today, he wished like hell he could take Daniel’s hand.
* * *
As soon as he opened his menu, Colin was about as nauseated as Daniel looked. The thought of eating made him want to gag. So typical—as soon as his anxiety ratcheted up, his appetite was the first thing to go.
Which meant he really needed to eat.
Stay in control. Don’t let the anxiety win.
Surreptitiously, he took a few deep breaths and talked himself into ordering a cup of that decadent soup and a glass of ice water.
“Is that all you’re going to eat, honey?” Daniel’s mom asked. “Don’t you—”
“Mom,” Daniel said sharply. “I’m pretty sure he knows what he wants to eat.”
“It’s enough. Trust me.” Colin smiled despite the uncomfortable tightness in his gut. “The soup’s pretty rich. You don’t really need much else.”
“Hmm.” Christina scowled at the menu. “Maybe I’ll skip the sandwich, then. I don’t know if I can eat both.”
“We can split one,” Daniel offered.
She shrugged. “Sure, that works.” They continued sorting out what kind of sandwich they were going to split, and Colin just thanked a few gods that their mother had dropped the subject. He was not in a good state of mind to have his eating habits scrutinized.
I really shouldn’t have come. I cannot cope with this.
He slid his gaze toward Daniel.
I’m not here for me. I’m here for him.
Daniel glanced his way. For half a heartbeat, their eyes locked, and a faint smile materialized on his lips.
Okay, I can cope with this. It still sucks, but I’ll manage for him.
The waiter came and took their orders, and even though the place was busy, their food came quickly. Or maybe it just seemed that way because when the tiny cup of peanut butter soup appeared in front of him, Colin was not ready.
But he made himself pick up the spoon. Dip it in the soup. Put it in
his mouth.
See? Tastes amazing. You only eat this like once every couple of years.
Another bite.
I can do this.
“Wow, you’re right about this.” Christina gently blew on a steaming spoonful. “It sounded gross but it’s really good.”
“Isn’t it?” Colin smiled. “I wouldn’t have tried it, but a friend talked me into it. Glad he did.”
He happened to glance at Daniel’s mother right then, and an odd expression flickered across her face. Like she was scrutinizing him somehow. Reading between the lines.
No, he was just imagining it. There was no way in hell she could see through that comment and know it was a boyfriend who’d talked him into trying the soup, or that they’d come to Williamsburg after a lazy, sexy morning in bed. He broke eye contact and took another bite.
You know it’s awkward when eating is easier than looking at her.
He was just being paranoid, though. That was all. Just imagining things.
“So what does everyone want to see after lunch?” Daniel put the map on the table. “We’ve covered a lot, but there’s a ton left.”
“Hmm.” His dad tugged the map a little closer to him. He tapped a building near the edge. “What’s this over here?”
“That’s . . . Hmm. I don’t know.” Daniel pulled out his phone. “Let me look it up.”
While the family ate their lunch and chatted about what to do next, Colin sat back quietly and took everything in. He forced himself to eat a little, if only to not draw attention to how much he wasn’t eating, but mostly he just observed.
As Daniel and his sister bantered, and all four of them laughed at his sea stories or Dad’s terrible dad jokes, Colin smiled along with them and hoped none of them noticed how forced it was. Or how hard it was to eat with this ball of lead in his stomach. Or how, no matter how hard he fought it, some pieces of uncomfortable truth were falling together in his mind.
Families were complicated. On paper it was easy to wonder how someone could have a good relationship with people who hated such a core part of his identity. It was easy to tell someone they should just come out and let the chips fall where they would.
“If your family can’t accept you,” the armchair experts liked to shout at the TV, “then fuck ’em!”