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- 11/26/2016
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Predator Prey - 10. Housebroken
He settled warily into his role as a tolerated houseguest.
Marc and Lee allowed him to stay until something else could be arranged. They were kind enough not throw him out onto the street, even after what he'd done.
But Marc never, ever allowed him to stay in the house alone with Lee for any length of time. Never. He understood that, and it hurt.
In the run-up to Christmas, he'd been acutely aware of how he couldn't really share in Marc and Lee's lives, and how much Marc and Lee shut him out – completely unconsciously. He had intruded on their lives, and they had to live them with him present. But he was not admitted very deeply to their existence. They talked about their plans privately, shared their days privately, and arranged their lives around him – privately.
He saw them kiss, watched them interact, yes. They behaved with an affection he began to understand was both real and unstaged, and which he would not have thought possible just a few weeks prior. And more than once, with the doors shut and the lights out, he'd heard Lee cry out – not in pain, but in ecstasy. He had never known Marc as a top.
He understood why Marc found Lee to be enchanting – Lee plunged into Christmas happily and delightedly, like a kid. There was a bright, unguarded innocence about the black-haired boy. Lee insisted on decorations and on planning a big meal for the day itself. The three of them would celebrate Christmas together. He had no idea what would happen after that, except that he understood Marc's parents were coming down for New Year's.
The day before Christmas – Christmas Eve – they all went out shopping. They stopped to buy a small tree. There were packages already stacked behind the sofa in the living room. He'd tried hard to get them some a present of some kind, but it was really hard thinking what they might need or want.
Plus, he'd checked with his bank. He was within easy reach of breaking the big red line of his credit limit. With the last gasp of his card, he bought them a really solid coffeemaker to replace the hand-me-down machine Marc's parents had given them.
It was the first real gift he bought for anyone in years.
He was humbled by Christmas morning. They slept late, but it still qualified as morning.
There in the living room, under the tree laid three Christmas stockings; two with 'Marc' and 'Leander' embroidered across the top, and another with his own name written carefully on a cloth tag attached.
Christmas stockings. He had to search his memory for the last time he'd had one. Lee and Marc had filled his stocking with little items – power bars, candy, toothbrush and toothpaste, razors, shaving kit, all stuff he'd been missing since the calamity in his residence. Since he'd blown up his own life.
Marc and Lee and been much freer with themselves – he saw Marc actually blush deeply when he extracted a tube of flavored lube from his stocking. And Lee's eyes went very wide when a long cylindrical package fell out of his.
Lee and Marc hadn't forgotten him under the tree, either. They'd gotten him some extra clothes so he had more than a few changes. He wouldn't have to do laundry every other day. And they unwrapped his present to them happily.
Marc actually smiled in his direction for the first time since he'd appeared on their doorstep.
They lingered together over breakfast, and for once he felt included, almost.
Afterwards, he helped Marc and Lee make the special meal that had been planned, re-planned, fussed over and planned again for the past four days. He chopped, diced, sautéed, and washed dishes for much of the afternoon, under Marc's watchful eye.
The whole house smelled of rich roasting meat, of sweet pie, of savory sides. Once upon a time, he'd known these scents. Where had these smells gone? It seemed he'd lived half of a life for years.
Their Christmas Dinner was just the three of them. What they lacked in numbers, the made up for in good spirits. Lee joked about the hilarious experience when some old guys had tried to pick him up at the beach – at least, he could laugh about it. They started joking about bad pickup lines, one worse than the other, until they were almost in tears. He couldn't remember when he'd laughed so hard.
There was a minute roast, actual Yorkshire pudding, and roasted veggies that they devoured. Only wine was conspicuously absent from the menu, but in his mellow mood, he decided this was perfectly fine, too.
They actually talked, and for once, even Marc seemed to let his guard down. He left the table for a few moments to renew his coffee over dessert.
"Marc once said you always wore a mask of some kind," Lee remarked to him, turning serious. "What are you wearing now?"
The question jarred him, not because it wasn't true, but because someone had noticed. A long time ago.
"Tonight, there's no mask. Just jolly old me," he tried to rally.
Lee looked at him sadly. "No, really. Is this really you, or somebody else? Marc told me about you when we first met. He said you were the most dangerous man he'd ever known because behind your cruel mask, there was something worse." Lee let that one sink in. "So I'm wondering, because if my Christmas houseguest is this incredibly dangerous man, I want to see what the danger is."
He sat there, stunned by the change in mood. There was no denying it. He had been dangerous. To Ted, once. To Marc, to dozens, hundreds, of people. To himself, too.
He pulled himself together. "Tonight – in fact, since you and Marc let me stay, there's been no mask. Really. There's really nothing worth hiding anymore. Not here." He tapped his chest to indicate himself. He went on. "And today, you and Marc have just gotten to me, okay? You've been kind when you had no reason to, welcoming when you should have turned me out. It's all been real, and all good, and honestly, Lee, it blows me away."
Marc had returned quietly and sat down in the middle of this little speech. "Merry Christmas," he said.
"Merry Christmas yourself," he said. And he smiled.
He insisted on doing the cleanup. Once the table was cleared, he sent the protesting Marc and Lee to bed, telling them he'd take care of everything. It was certainly the very least he could do. He wondered what was going to happen in the days ahead. As he washed up the dishes and set the clean things aside on the table, he thought more and more about what he ought to.
His brain spun, and his mind worked, but nothing really suggested itself. Funny how something so mundane as washing dishes can distract the mind from coming to a conclusion.
He was tired, but not sleepy when he finished. Deciding a walk would do him some good, he let himself out the back door. The air was chilly, even for Christmas, and the dark skies promised rain later. He crossed several streets and found himself at a busier four lane arterial road.
He stopped, musing. From here, he could probably hitch a ride downtown, even though the road itself looked almost deserted. There was always something going on there, possibly even tonight. Someone would be hosting something. But somehow, the pull to immerse himself in his old life and start that all over seemed very weak right then.
But there wasn't any other pull, either.
The only tug was the one on his heart, the tug that told him how much he owed Lee and Marc for coming to his rescue. He retraced his steps toward the house. Nobody moved on the streets; he was utterly alone.
He stopped in front of his car, still parked on the street. He hadn't moved it since he arrived. He wondered how much gas he had left in the fancy, sleek black sedan. He'd bought it with cash after his first big successful month in business. He'd prided himself that it was a better ride than anything his parents ever owned. He had gloried in it. But the car did him very little good now.
He shook his head, walked on around to the back of the house, and went in.
Inside, he let his eyes travel over the tidied mess in the living room, the presents now unwrapped but still under the tree. Marc and Lee had made this a home, had made a life with each other, and they'd included him, just a little. It felt good and warm.
He prepared for bed, washed up, and stepped across the hall to his bedroom. With his hand on the doorknob, he heard something.
A high, keening. A breathy giggle, suppressed conversation. A swift cry of pleasure. The boys were playing with their new toys, and it brought the beginnings of a smile to his face.
Suddenly, he made a decision; an extravagant decision meant to cover his multitude of sins. Something to hide his brokenness.
He would sell the car, pay off his debts, and settle his damages with the university. Maybe he'd have some money left over to leave with Marc and Lee, too.
Then he'd see about moving on.
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