above all (m×m) ✔

38) fatherly advice part 2.

When they were done with their second round, Steven supplied his father with a cigarette, from which he was never ever supposed to say a word to Addison. While they smoked, Steven startled a deep laughter from Nicholas, the kind one couldn't help but join. Nicholas patted his shoulder, then gave him a brief, manly hug with all the necessary back patting.

"Hey, dad.. Did you love mom?" Steven asked, trying and failing to sound casual. He was rolling the cigarette butt between his fore and middle finger and shifting on his feet. His father's awkwardness with talking about feelings was infectious. 

"Of course I did. Of course." Nicholas mused, his lips curving upwards in a small, wistful smile. "I was only a 15-year-old bloke when I met her, barely out of my freshman year, can you believe that?"

"I didn't know you were so young.." Steven shook his head and glimpsed down at his father. He was trying to picture a 15-year-old version of him, but his mind came out blank. Why is it so difficult to picture parents before they became parents? How did they meet each other, and what kind of mistakes did they make as teenagers? Did they get along with their parents? Did they hate going to school?

"Well, it took us years to find each other again after that and fall in love. Your mother meant the world to me, and you just don't stop loving someone you've once loved like I loved her." Nicholas explained, the words flowing more freely after a few pints of beer.

"But if you loved her so much.. Then what about the fighting and the divorce?" Steven asked, his voice faltering when he turned to look at the pained look in his father's eyes. "I gave up the idea of settling down or falling in love with anyone, because all I saw as a kid.. All those fights and the cheating — it was a mess."

Steven's face was burning, and his stomach was doing nervous backflips, as he wasn't used to talking about such things with his father. Trying to do so turned him breathless and he was one second away from turning the conversation around, but he had made a promise to himself and Brandon. And so, he let the uneasiness come and pushed through it.

"We, uh, well, we wanted different things, and we weren't a good match." Nicholas shrugged helplessly, clearly struggling with the same thing, but then the frown on his face turned into a tentative smile. "There's nothing wrong with love and marriage, we just messed ours up with your mother."

"I have this amazing man in my life, and I'm terrified I'll fuck it up just like you two did." Steven explained, then grimaced and added: "No offense."

"None taken. Can you give me another one of those?" Nicholas asked. When Steven lit them both new cigarettes, he eased his back against the brick wall, grunting. "This boy.. If you want to settle down with him, for the love of God, don't let your mother and I ruin it for you. When you get home, tell him exactly how much you love him and hand him a key to his home. How does that sound?"

"I mean.. Yeah, uh. Thanks, dad." Steven stammered. He had already given Brandon a key to his apartment, but that wasn't what his father meant. His father was talking about letting someone in, to ask him to stay. Stay, as in to build a life together. Steven had to take a double-check at his father to make sure it was the man who had raised him. "You are actually good at giving fatherly advice. Why don't we do this more often?"

"Tell me about it." Nicholas gave Steven a rare grin, toothy and carefree. Then he turned serious again, stopping to really look at Steven. "You know, even though I didn't do such a faultless job as your dad, you've turned out to be a fine young man. You have some of that Dempsey blood in you.. Or actually, on second thought, maybe you got that fierce loyalty and big heart of yours from the Fernby side."

"Dad.. Are you drunk?" Steven asked with a low chuckle, scratching the side of his neck.

"Well, maybe a bit." Nicholas admitted, a sheepish smile on his lips. "I've been living on protein shakes and chicken breast for way too long. Addie thinks a man my age should take better care of his cholesterol and stamina, pff, I say."

"That's what you get when you marry someone half your age." Steven reminded him, lifting up his eyebrows and grinning. 

After that they spoke some more about their families and how healthy, or in Steven's case unhealthy, their diets and exercising routines were. Then they hailed a cap and scrambled in the back seat, laughing and joking like a pair of adolescents blokes.

"I never meant to marry someone so young." Anthony admitted, shaking his head while he shut his eyes and smiled. "She is way too young for me, I know that. But she also gets me, and after a while you stop noticing the age difference. You just see the person who makes it easy for you to stick around."

"Well, she is mature for her age." Steven wasn't lying, and a part of him had even started to warm up to the woman. Considering her as a stepmother was still absurd, but Steven could tell that she was good for his father. They were a good match.

"She is. And she likes you." Anthony told Steven, and then seemed to remember something, as he swallowed and grew silent. "And she is pregnant."

"She what?" Steven could only gape at his father. The man was in his sixties for heaven's sake.

"Exactly." Anthony shook his head, but he was smiling just as much as he was grimacing. "God help me."

"Congratulations are in order then, I guess?" Steven asked. The taxi had just turned to his home street. "Tell Addison to come over some day, and Elodie too. I need to start building my status as the best brother."

"She'll love to hear that." Anthony said, tears of affection gathering in his eyes when he smiled. "And call me if there's anything I can help you with."

Steven's family didn't come without issues, not by any means. They were all busy with their lives and barely had time to see or call each other. Everyone was more or less molded by the fighting and by being torn apart to different countries. None of them was perfect. But, Steven realized, they weren't too bad either.

Steven had had so much fun with his father that he had forgotten to worry about Brandon at all. He had even been able to push away the incident with Treyton off his mind, but now his worries were all flooding back in. He hastened his steps, working himself to the verge of being out of breath, to reach his apartment door faster.

The hallway smelled faintly like an art class, of oil paint and that sweet oil the painters always use. The scent only grew stronger when Steven made his way across the hallway. Music, from one of those indie bands Brandon liked so much, showed Steven the way to the living room.

"Where did you get that from?" Steven couldn't help but ask, causing Brandon to flinch out of his flow. His head snapped up to meet Steven's gaze, and there was a smear of black paint underneath his eye, a blue streak at his chin. His eyes were clear, sparkling with joy, and his cheeks flushed.

"So, don't be mad.. but you had this canvas and the paints just laying there unused, and I was bored." Brandon quickly explained, wiping his paint covered hands in his already stained jeans. He must have misunderstood the awe that was rendering Steven speechless as disapproving, because his eyes darkened and he went on: "I'm sorry, I can buy you new ones. And I didn't make a mess, that's why I covered the floor with the—"

"You're painting again?" Steven cut him short, smiling so wide it made his cheeks ache. He dropped onto his knees next to Brandon and cupped his face between his hands, peppering him with kisses. 

Steven tore his gaze away from Brandon just enough to look at the huge canvas on the floor. It was an abstract work of art with deep black, and blue and violet so rich it didn't seem possible. "Brandon Moore, I love you, and I'm buying you all the paints and canvases and whatever it is that you artists use, just as long as you keep painting and smiling like that."

"Yeah?" Brandon breathed, so quietly Steven had to read the word from his lips. His face turned red, and his eyes warmed with delight again. Then he chuckled, breathlessly, and pulled Steven into another firm embrace. His breath was hot against Steven's neck, when he whispered: "I love you too — and not just because you promised to buy me all that."

"Then.." Steven found himself in a rare situation, where shyness struck him almost too uncertain to get the words out of his mouth. He was glad Brandon was still hugging him, because it meant he couldn't see the internal battle reflecting on his face. "What if, when all this criminal prosecution chaos is over, you didn't go back to your apartment? What if you.. you know, moved in with me?"

"Yes." Brandon didn't even take a second to think about his answer, but instead added an eager: "Yes please."