A Cross Examination of a Disgrace and Syrup with Honey

Tiptoeing Around Explosives

Soft.  Garrett's lips were soft.  Just the thought of them sent shivers down Nate's spine. And Nate just couldn't stop thinking about them.

Dinner with Derek, Dana, and Larson had been a bit awkward, especially since the woman kept throwing knowing smiles at them and Larson kept his eyes on his plate the entire time.  Derek was the only one who managed to act nonchalant.  After dinner, Nate and Garrett had offered to take care of the dishes, letting their hands brush against each other's as they reached for glasses and plates in the sink.  When Garrett finished washing, he wrapped his arms around Nate's waist from behind, resting his head on his shoulder, staying there until Nate was done drying.

Afterward, they had joined the rest of the family in the living room, where Larson was already popping the first movie into the player.  They squeezed onto the couch together and spent the next few hours stealing glances instead of actually watching the movie, until they were too tired to stay up any longer.  Nate and Garrett parted in front of their bedroom doors, where Garrett pressed a very quick kiss to Nate's lips before shutting the door behind him.

Nate remembered how he had felt that night, sleeping in a room so close to Garrett's, almost imagining he could hear the other man's heartbeat through the walls, wondering if Garrett was lying awake looking at the ceiling with a smile like he was--

A loud thump from the stack of papers dropping in front of him on his desk startled Nate out of his blissful daydreaming.  He raised his eyes up to see his father standing in front of him, with the usual cold and unfriendly expression on his face, this time tainted with the glower he wore when he was particularly displeased with Nate.

"Good morning, Dad," he said pointedly, as he usually did.

"Where were you this weekend?" Walter asked bluntly.

Nate repressed a tired sigh.  "I told you.  A friend invited me for--"

"Bullshit.  I know for a fact you don't have any friends," his father cut off, disparagingly.

"You don't have to believe me if you don't want to," Nate shrugged and reached for the files his father had just dropped on his desk, but Walter put a hand on them to keep them in place.

"Your mother was awfully disappointed in your behavior," he informed him sharply.

When isn't she disappointed in my behavior?  "I'm sure she was busy enough with her guests that she didn't even notice I wasn't there."

"Don't be such an insolent brat, Nathaniel," Walter spat, angry.

Nate forced himself to remain as calm as he could.  He had already known he would be facing this even before he made it back to Indianapolis with Garrett the day before.  There was no point in losing his temper.  "Dad, can I ask you something?" He continued before his father could answer because he wasn't sure he would grant him permission.  "Why do you and mom care about me being there so much if it's so clear you don't enjoy my company?"

Walter seemed a bit taken aback.  Never had Nate talked to him like that before in his life.  His son had never questioned the way things were, as if he was supposed to know the reasons, as if he should be aware of how undeserving of his parents' love and approval he was.

"You know exactly why," he replied, looking down at him as if he were staring at a dirty homeless person who was trying to touch his expensive suit instead of his own son.

Nate hated himself for letting those words twist painfully inside of him.  He hated himself for noticing Walter hadn't corrected him, hadn't said they did enjoy his company, hadn't even tried to reassure him in any way.