Bexon yawned for the tenth time since he got into the car. For someone who was a morning person all Max did was yawn and in turn, made Bexon have to yawn. It was not a fun cycle to be stuck in at six something in the morning while going shopping for a suit Bexon knew would not be up to his father's standards.
Bexon got out of the car and led the way to the only place he knew would let him get a suit that fit Max on such short notice. He knew how much suits were a Venturi must when it came to most events. Bexon's father was a picky person in general, but when it came to formal wear it was one of the man's pet peeves.
Besides having several funeral businesses, Halston Venturi also owned a few formal wear shops across the United States. Consisting of high-end, good-quality formal clothing—it was the perfect cover for the not so pretty family business no one talked about.
The details weren't something Bexon was all that trusted with, however, when Grace moved in with their dad, Bexon took notice of how his dad changed a few things about his businesses. Hushed whispers were all Bexon knew, but over the years he was able to put the pieces together.
"Here's the place," Bexon murmured. "Barone."
He stopped in front of the dark shop. The Italian name was written on the sign, the door, and even the window. His mother's maiden name stared back at him in neat black and gold cursive.
"This seems a bit much—"
"You have no idea what you agreed to, do you?" Bexon questioned. He knew he was in over his head. He was mental for even going along with the idea in the beginning, but when he heard the tone of voice from his stepmother, he just couldn't help but lie.
He was so sick of having to be alone at events, having to be some third wheel to Grace and Lucas even if the two were too nice to ever say anything. Bexon on the other hand just wanted to know what it felt like to have someone beside him, to see the look on his father's face when he noticed Bexon wasn't just the dark shadow in the corner. And with Max at his side, it would be impossible with his blond hair and sunshine smile.
"It can't be that bad," Max replied because he too was too nice for his own good.
Bexon pulled him into the store, and the smell of strong cologne hit him in the face. It had been years since Bexon had been to any of these shops. He had almost forgotten how strong they smelled or how he always was gifted with some kind of unpleasant memory at the scent of the store.
He kept hold of Max's hand without even noticing how it was the only thing grounding him at the moment. Bexon took notice of the woman at the front desk and walked over to her. A smile plastered on the woman's tanned skin as they walked over to her. She had shoulder-length blond curls that looked like she spent all morning brushing them out to the so-called perfect balance of curls and waves.
"Bexon, how have you been?" she asked. "It's been too long."
Not long enough was all Bexon was able to think. Her voice annoyed him and he was already getting a headache because the whole store smelled like his father when Bexon was nine and it was all just too much. Bexon knew he had to be nice if he wanted to get what he wanted, so he did his best not to show it. And if he gript Max's hand just a bit tighter, the blond man didn't say anything about it.
"Great," Bexon answered shortly. "My boyfriend evidently doesn't own a suit and we need one today."
Like most everything, Bexon was short and to the point with what he wanted. He was not the type who did small talk or schmoozed with anyone, he found it rather pointless and a waste of everyone's time. He did not care about them and they did not care about him, so why make the interaction longer than it has to be.
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And They Were Housemates ✓
RomanceBexon Venturi was the embodiment of death. He worked hard to stay at the top of all his classes, which left him no room to dwell on his unpleasant past. Years spent convinced it was his fault took their toll; he was distant and only allowed a few...
