Carter's Duty - 11. Chapter 11

June 9th 2003

It was much later when Will finally had Andrew alone. The older Sternostis had retired to bed leaving the younger ones to their own devices. Will rested on the pristinely-cleaned kitchen countertop and sighed. It had been a long, trying day, and the next was just going to be brutal.

He looked exhaustedly over at Andrew and smiled tiredly. Jeff had gone home and the house actually felt calm. Jeff's two younger brothers had laid claim to the X-box and the wonder of Halo and his sister, Maria, was taking a shower upstairs. For the moment it was just the two of them.

"All fun and games around here," Will observed with a roguish smile, "I'm sorry about this."

Andrew, sitting at the kitchen table looked up from his textbooks, "Hey, I understand, it's not your fault or anything."

Will smiled, "No I mean it, thanks for understanding, you're being so calm about all of this."

Andrew took off his reading glasses, "Hey, it was only dinner, it's not the first time we have had to change our plans because something's come up, and it won't be the last. Just remember this the next time I cancel because I have to study."

Will chuckled as he crossed to the table and sat down; he suddenly felt uneasy about the conversation he had to have. "Jeff's parents don't know," he said, his voice dropping.

Andrew let out a heavy breath as he put his pen aside, "Great, so now we're back to pretending to be straight?"

Will's face fell, "I know, I'm sorry..."

Andrew closed his book and ran a hand through his hair, "I mean, come on, it's bad enough we have to pretend when my mum's down, now I have to deal with Jeff's parents as well?"

"Jeff didn't warn them when they got here, they're old-fashioned..." Will realized he was pleading for something he didn't want himself, but he had no choice.

They should be used to hiding, but the point was they shouldn't have to. It was one thing not to be open about sexuality at work, Will managed over a hundred people and worked for one of the most bigoted individuals on the planet, a man who honestly believed in the inherent evil of an expression of love.

They couldn't all be as accepting as Andrew's mother.

Will had only experienced Andrew's mother "Hurricane Micheline" once since getting back from university, when she had touched down in town on a surprise visit. The formidable force of nature had left a lasting impression upon Will, now he required warning when she was in town, so that he would be out of it. There was an old saying; `the hand that rocked the cradle rules the world.' This was certainly the case with Micheline Highmore. There was no contesting her, or even the faint hope of compromise; it was her way or none at all. She had a set vision for Andrew's future, her `plausible' plan, and Will was certain she had factored him into that plan. There was nothing like a mother in law to turn life upside down.

No, there was a good reason to keep his sexuality from the people at work where being gay was the punchline to a joke, but to ask Andrew to do the same now was too much. It was hypocritical of him to do so, after all they had been through together just to be open about their relationship in the first place.

"Look," Will tried again, "it's only for a couple of days, then we can get back to normal." He leaned his head down to look into Andrew's eyes, but Andrew refused to respond, choosing to look away.

"This really sucks," Andrew finally said after a moment. "Just to please someone else. They're our guests."

"I know," Will replied, "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Andrew's eyes flicked up to Will's at last, "Yeah, you owe me for this one."

Will gently bit his lip, managing a tight smile, "I'll take you to a Sen's game."

"It's the playoffs," Andrew replied, speaking a language that Will barely recognized as English. "You'll never get tickets."

"They're playing tomorrow, right?" Will asked.

"Yeah, game six of the series." Andrew responded.

"All right, I'll see what I can manage."

Andrew shook his head. "Don't we have the rehearsal dinner to go to tomorrow night?"

"We'll go to game seven, then," Will said hopefully.

"Wedding's that night," Andrew said, pushing back his chair and walking over to the sink.

"Game eight, then." Will pressed, still trying.

"There is no game eight." Andrew replied, running a tap. "Look you don't have to do that. I'll be ok, we'll get through this."

Will rested his head on his hands, staring at the wall, "Yeah, I suppose."

It was depressing; Will tried his hardest, but Andrew had slipped into one of his moods, and as much as Will wanted to, he couldn't fault him for it. Wedding stress had spilled over into their lives, affecting every aspect of it. They were being slowly displaced by someone else's life. First their home, now their relationship was being affected. What was next? It wasn't right, that they were being affected so drastically.

He turned to speak again, but drew up short at the sight of what had just entered the kitchen. His jaw dropped open in shock. Andrew turned and nearly dropped his glass into the sink. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates.

Maria stood there, towelling off her hair, wearing Andrew's Sen's hockey jersey and little else, she gave him an apologetic smile.

Her hair had been curled into soft fat ringlets that fell to the nape of her neck. Maria was blonde; well she was blonde at that moment. And since she came from an obviously Italian heritage, bleach must have contributed to its colour. It was cleverly done; Will would never have known had she not been a brunette earlier. Obviously she used it to her advantage.

She had also been subtle when she had applied her makeup, invisibly achieved, except that again Will was a gay man, makeup tips were part of the curriculum. Her eyes were brown, wide and sweetly lacked the guile Will knew too well lurked there. It was a woman on the prowl giving the illusion of being the prey.

"I'm sorry," she said, finishing with the towel, "I had to borrow this shirt, I hope you don't mind..."

"N-not at all." Andrew replied with a pronounced stutter.

Will's eyebrow arched as he caught the scent of vanilla extract mingled with peroxide. Like everything else about her it was subtle but deliberate.

"Good, I really didn't want to be rude," she crossed the tiled kitchen floor on tip toes obviously accenting her assets while appearing like she was avoiding the cold floor. And as she reached past Andrew, up into the cupboard for a glass, her leg lifted up behind her as she did so. Will was relieved to note she was wearing underwear. Not that he was looking, but it was obviously on display.

He glanced up at Andrew, who was still staring transfixed at the young woman's underwear. His eyes were wide, and his face flushed red with embarrassment, at least Will hoped.

Will chewed on his lip for a moment; she knew what she was doing. Girls like that, who knew what they were doing and how to do it without appearing as anything but innocent, usually got exactly what they wanted. It was a simple manipulation of genetics; she used her most affective method of attracting attention. And to Will's annoyance, it appeared to be working.

He cleared his throat as he stood up, breaking her spell on Andrew as he did so. "Well it's getting late," he observed.

"Yes," she agreed, setting her glass down, "I was wondering, " she turned to Andrew, "I wanted to take a look around downtown tomorrow, I could use someone to show me around."

Will's brow furrowed darkly, "Don't you have class tomorrow, Andrew?" He was beginning to get angry.

"Y-yeah," Andrew managed, his head desperately moving between the two of them.

"Oh really?" She asked, brightening up, "Where do you go to school?"

"U of O." he responded, on automatic now.

"Oh," she beamed ecstatically, "I'm thinking of going there next year! Perhaps you could give me a tour around campus tomorrow?"

Will's jaw locked in frustration, "Now wouldn't that be fun," he commented dryly.

"Yeah, sure." Andrew replied, smiling back at her. "Will usually gives me a lift in, could you be ready to go first thing in the morning?"

"Sure," she declared happily, throwing her arms around him affectionately, inadvertently dragging the jersey up as she reached around his neck. She placed a hand on the back of his head, trying subtly to angle his head downward to see the curve and line of her panties.

What both she and Will missed was Andrew's roll of his eyes as he stared at Will. But Will had turned his back to the scene busying himself cleaning the stuff in the sink.

"Thank you so much!" she said, already skipping off to her makeshift bedroom in the den.

Will turned glared a final time at Andrew before he stalked off to bed.

Andrew shot a pained look after him, shook his head and returned to his studying. Carter would get over it once Andrew had a chance to explain.

He tapped his pencil against the edge of the book staring up at the stairs, Carter was under a lot of pressure and he was moody lately, Andrew could just write it off as that. But Will getting jealous of a girl, if his reaction hadn't been so hurt Andrew might have found the situation funny.

He set the pencil down and leaned back in the chair running a hand over his chin. He was dating a difficult and stubborn man, and there were time she wanted to shake Carter for being such a...goof... But that was part of what made him so loveable.

The job thing bothered him though, Carter was a brilliant teacher and he had loved it. But to suddenly up and not go on to get a teaching degree, to quit and manage a telemarketing call center, it didn't make any sense to Andrew. The place was slowly tearing the spirit out of the man he loved, but he couldn't just march up the stairs and demand Carter quit. That wasn't his place, all he could do was support those choices, no matter how much he disagreed with them.