"Semi-Short Stories" [ Story Collection ]

Father Issues [] 3/11 []

"I'm meant to warn you about something... But I can't remember what it is." Matthew's eyes are distant again. He shakes his head while Draco looks on.

"Is it something dangerous?"

"I don't think so. More like...something you probably wouldn't want to see, but I don't think it was bad. I'll text you if I remember." Matthew makes a small humming sound, his eyes narrowed in thought. "Sorry."

"It's alright, there's no need to apologize. I have my handy dandy gun to keep me safe." He pats his right hip, where his firearm is hidden beneath his jeans and shirt. "You have yours, right?"

"Yeah. I just hope he doesn't notice it. I don't think he'd be very happy if he thought I was here to assassinate him." He chuckles briefly, but he looks scared.

"We can still leave, if you'd rather." They're both standing on the porch. They've not knocked yet.

"I kind of want you to fuck up his worshiping and sacrificing room, honestly. I'll be just fine. I'll shoot if I have to."

They share a smile. Draco moves from the porch, to the lawn, and back to the car.

Matthew rings the bell.

. 

.

Matthew left the door unlocked for him. Once Draco had received the "OK" text, he'd slipped inside and headed for the stairs. And then he realized...he forgot to ask which room he was meant to deface. Shit.

He'll have to check them as he goes. But it has to be upstairs, right? Who has a room dedicated to sacrifice and devil worship on the ground floor? Who has that sort of room at all? He silently chuckles at the thought. Samson Moore, that's who.

The first door he opens leads to  a bathroom, flooded in a red light. The tiles are white...he thinks. It's hard to tell in the lighting. He closes the door and goes to the next room, which is locked. The next room from that one is a vacant study. He can hear Samson laughing from the floor below. It sounds like a good-natured laugh, at least.

The next few doors open up into empty bedrooms. For a house so big, Draco expected to find more people. He opens the next door and, as if on cue, is greeted with the sight of a man pulling a shirt right-side-out.

"Samson, I was just leaving."

But then the man looks up and pauses. The two make eye contact - it's dead silent.

"Hi there, Draco. Why are you here?"

"Definitely not for the same reason you're here." He feels...angry. Yeah. Angry. Why? When he expected to see people, he didn't expect to see the Chief of police in his boyfriend's father's bedroom. Or, one of the many, many bedrooms. He doesn't want to know why there are so many. One for each 'friend'?

"I...Well, I would hope not." He pulls the shirt on, looking into the vanity mirror to fix his dark hair. His skin tone looks even darker in the odd lighting.

"You're sleeping with my boyfriend's dad, Chief." That's why. That's why he's angry. "You know. The man who kept him and his little brother from getting the help that they needed."

"I promise you, I didn't know. He only told me his first name." He shifts. "And I wasn't exactly sober the first time."

"The first time!"

"Look, I don't have to explain these things." He's becoming defensive. "I'm an adult. No one is being hurt."

"He's a goddamn devil-worshiper. Surely you have some morals." Draco takes in a breath.

"...I didn't know that either."

"So you're fucking someone you know nothing about."

"I'm not the one-" He lets out a breath. "People do it all the time. I'm safe."

"He isn't." Draco's fed up. He's close to yelling, but he knows he can't. He can't bring any attention to himself. "Forget it. Surely you've seen a weird room around here. Help me find it, or I'll tell your brother all about this."

"Which brother?"

"All of them. Your sisters, too. And your mom. I will tell everyone unless you help me." Draco gestures to the hallway behind him. "So help me, Chief."

"You can just call me Michael, you know that."

"Not after knowing that he's probably called it out."

"Funny you should say that-"

"God, I take it back. Michael it is."