Fluer

The evening had begun with a plan.

A simple plan.

A responsible, fatherly plan.

Fluer had repeated it to himself during the entire drive.

I am going there. I am apologizing for my daughter. I am asking if they can work things out. Then I leave.

Easy.

Simple.

Civilized.

Then reality arrived and hit him in the face with a chair.

Because somehow — and if anyone asked, Fluer would swear on his own grave that he had no idea how it happened — the young man was now sitting sideways on his lap like he'd always belonged there.

Curled comfortably.

Completely comfortably.

Like some spoiled house cat that had discovered the warmest spot in existence and immediately claimed ownership.

Fluer sat frozen.

Utterly frozen.

His brain had disconnected approximately five minutes ago.

Maybe ten.

Who knew anymore.

One arm had somehow ended around the younger man's waist. He didn't remember doing that.

Didn't remember when the distance disappeared.

Didn't remember why his neck felt warm.

Actually—

Fluer slowly lifted a shaking hand and touched the side of his neck.

"..."

Red.

Very red.

His eyes widened.

Across from him, the young man barely looked guilty.

Barely.

Curled against his chest, face tucked lazily against Fluer's shoulder, he looked absurdly pleased with himself.

Worse—

He looked comfortable.

Like he planned to stay there.

Fluer stared forward.

Stared at the wall.

Stared into another dimension.

I came here for parental responsibilities.

Parental.

Responsibilities.

He felt movement against his shoulder.

The young man shifted slightly, making himself even more comfortable somehow.

Impossible.

Absolutely impossible.

Then Fluer remembered.

Oh.

Right.

The reason he came here.

His soul returned to his body.

Just slightly.

"...So..." he asked weakly.

Silence.

"...uh..."

His voice cracked.

Wonderful.

"...will you go back with my daughter...?"