Where the fuck is Alderchuck?
Why the fuck hasn’t Dirk said anything?
Calm down, Nolan.
This is probably my fault. I did too much for Dash, and he didn’t learn the tools. Is it okay to give him a gentle reminder? Do I let him crash out? Give him enough rope to hang himself? I don’t know. I’m a terrible parent. Dash deserves so much fucking better than the parents he got.
“You okay, Dad?”
Right. I haven’t said anything in a minute. “Yeah, fine. Just, get some sleep, okay, buddy?”
“You know Dirk’s taking good care of me.” It should be his man. “It’s just a bit of insomnia. Par for the course. I’m seeing Billy more often. I’m good. Promise.”
That’s comforting. It took a while to find the right therapist for him, but once we found Billy, things seemed to click. “Okay, make sure to send dear old Dad the bill.”
“I’m seeing her a lot, Dad. I should pay for some of it.”
“Nope. I’m paying,” I say in my “no room for argument” tone, because fuck that. But then I pause. Was that too much? I’ve never questioned something that before. It’s the way I’ve always been with him.
He salutes me, smiling. His limbs melt, taking a visible sigh. “Okay, fine. If you’re sure.”
Something’s … right. He needed that, didn’t he? My boy just needs to be taken care of. Is that so wrong?
“I’m sure.”
Overall, things go well with Dash, but when it’s time to call Dirk, I’m hit with a serious case of butterflies. I might as well go all out, though—in for a penny, in for a pound—and I sling my hair over to one side so he can see the shaved part.
Soon as those pretty eyes show up on the screen, I’m struck speechless. It’s been a week since I’ve seen his face. Long-distance is not for the faint of heart.
“Hey, pretty boy,” I growl.
His mouth hangs open for a good ten seconds. “T-Trav?”
“Yeah?” I play dumb. I think he likes it.
“Holy shit. You don’t leave the house like that, do you?”
“Why not?”
“You were already hot as fuck, now you’re next-level hot. No, scratch that. You were already next-level hot, now you’re … I don’t even know. My brain’s short-circuiting.”
“You like it then?”
“I fucking love it. Please send me a picture I can jerk off to later, and also let me jerk off later.”
I smile. Guess Elkington was right about this look.
He squints. “Did you do something else? Your skin’s glowing like the sun.”
“I, ah, well, I don’t wanna look old, okay?”
He chokes off a laugh, and when he sees my shyness morph into a glare, he bites his knuckle. “I’m sorry, it’s just … Trav? Did you try to look young for me?”
“Yeah, and I don’t regret it. Tell your little fan club to back the fuck off.”
“Oh, baby, they don’t stand a chance.Lookat you. When they find out you’re mine, there’s gonna be a Beast-Man fan club.”
Okay, fine. I’m pleased with this result. That vampire facial was definitely out of my budget, but I’ll use the fancy creams I was given.
