Weddings

Chapter 04

Paul awoke to the uncomfortable feeling of Emil's hand pressed against his cheek. He blinked wearily, slowly building up the motivation he needed to get out of bed. He could swear he felt his bones creak as he sat up, casting a mildly irritated look at his son. Emil's arms and legs were bent out in every direction, meaning he took up most of the bed.

Paul headed to the bathroom, switching on the shower and turning to look in the mirror as the water heated up behind him. I look like shit. As the mirror began to steam up, Paul made eye contact with himself, looking deep into his own eyes, as if his mirror-self knew something he did not, and owed him an explanation for the recent events in his life.

Tugging off his clothes, Paul stepped under the hot jets of water. He felt dry leaves and hay starting to untangle themselves from his hair, sliding down to rest on his shoulders and chest.

What a night. He reached a tentative hand down between his legs, wincing as he felt dry blood there. Fucker. He wanted to scream at Richard, to tell him this was not okay. Hurting your friends like this was not okay. Paul had bled. He'd bled for Richard like a proper virgin. He smacked his palm against the tiles, imagining it was Richard he was hitting. Fuck you, Richard! How could you do this to me? The anger surged up within him, making his jaw clench and his teeth grind. Then slowly, slowly, it subsided into sobs. This is hopeless. Paul leaned forward against the cool shower wall, letting the hot water pelt his back. Why do I feel like this?

After his shower he padded into his room, grabbing some jogger trousers and a frumpy hoody. He didn't have many slouching clothes, but this would do. Heading back to the bathroom to get dressed, he began planning breakfast. He was more than a little hung-over, so it would definitely need to contain bacon.

Luckily there were just two rashers of bacon left in the fridge, and Paul laid them out in the hot pan, eyeing them impatiently . Eggs, and coffee, and toast. Paul looked in the fridge, searching for any other treats he could add to his morning feast. Nothing. He should probably go shopping.

He laid his banquet out on the table, turning to pour his coffee as Emil entered, looking a little worse for wear. "Morgen."

"Hey Dad." Emil's voice was raw from sleep. He shuffled over to the table, sitting down at Paul's plate and digging in. Paul couldn't suppress a whine as he watched his son wolfing down that sweet, crispy bacon. "Sleep well?"

"No, not really Emil." Paul's voice was lit with a sarcastic smile.

"Why not?"

"Are you a Nazi, son?"

"Huh?" Emil looked up from his pilfered breakfast, staring dumbly at his father. "No.. why?"

"Because you sleep in the shape of a swastika." Emil snorted a little, returning to his breakfast.

"We must have looked like a Rammstein album cover last night; father and son, curled up in bed in the shape of a dubious political and spiritual symbol."

"Nah, if it was one of your covers we'd have been naked and you'd have been wearing a leash. I see the weird shit you get up to with your band, Dad." Emil met his father's eyes across the table, challenging him to debate this fact. "Anyway, thanks." Breakfast finished, the young actor stood up to get a mug.

"For what?" Paul sipped his coffee, wondering when his son had stopped being a little boy and started being a man. A man that openly mocked his father for being a pervert. I wonder if I'd have taken the piss out of my dad the way Emil does with me. Paul liked to think he would.

"For making me feel better." Emil coughed awkwardly, pouring himself a coffee and returning to the table. "Even if you were a grumpy bitch at first."

"Don't call me a bitch, son, it's degrading to me. I'm a powerful, independent woman, and if you can't handle that it's your own problem." Now both men laughed, eyes wrinkling up as Paul pretended to flick his hair and pout disapprovingly.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I chill here for the day?"

Paul sighed, formulating a plan in his head of what he needed to do. "Yeah, no problem kid. But I have to go out for a while."

"Where to?"

"Just to get some shopping. We're all out of bacon."

"Can't be having that, Dad."

"I know son, I might be a while though."

"See you when you get back then?"

"Yeah, see you then." Paul picked up his wallet and keys, heading towards the door. Richard.