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“Knock, knock; hey.” Pete Donovan walked into the bedroom with a bowl of food. “Your mother’s afraid you're going to starve.”
Anderson pulled the ear bud out of his ear and turned away from his desk. He managed a smile for his stepfather.
“That smells delicious.” He said. “I wanted to come down but I'm trying to finish this paper. For my European History midterm, I'm writing a paper on Anne Boleyn. I’d honestly rather take the standardized test. Not because I can't write it but because I won't walk away until it’s perfect.”
“Nothing is perfect.” Pete said. He handed him the bowl of food. “That’s chicken and broccoli with brown rice. Your mom made it with those chicken cube things because she knows you hate gravy.”
“She's too good to me.” Anderson ate a forkful and smiled. “Thanks Pete.”
“Sure.” He went to leave the room but only made it halfway across the carpet. He turned back to his stepson, who was already focused again on his laptop. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Huh?” Anderson looked up from his work.
“Can I talk to you for a minute? I don’t want to interrupt your work but…”
“No, it’s cool; I got a minute. What's up?”
Pete went and closed the door. Then he sat down on the bed across from Anderson, who was in his desk chair. This was probably about his mom’s Christmas gift or something. Pete wasn’t the best gift giver in the world but every year he wanted to do something awesome for his wife. It wouldn’t be the first time he sought his stepson’s advice.
“Is the kid you call Hotch your boyfriend?” Pete asked.
“Huh?”
“C'mon, bud, I really want to talk.”
“You want to talk about Hotch being my boyfriend?” Anderson asked.
“I just want to know what's going on in your life. I'm not your dad, I know that, but I am here to help take care of you.”
Anderson closed his eyes and tried not to think about all the other awkward talks he and Pete had over the years. There was the drugs talk, the sex talk, the bullying talk, the ‘are you sure you’re gay’ talk, the ‘you have strange friends but we still love you’ talk, and many more. He wanted to be mad at his mother for unleashing this on him but Pete was a good guy. And his mother knew that it was tough for him without his father. Anderson had to love her for trying so hard. He’d bite his tongue, put on a smile, and get through this…just as he’d been doing for the past four years.
“Hotch isn’t my boyfriend.” Anderson shook his head. “He's just a friend.”
“Is he gay too?”
“I have some straight friends, Pete. I have a good amount of straight friends.”
“I know, I just…when I gave you the talk all those years ago it was the straight talk.”
“We’re never having the gay talk.” Anderson held up his hand in protest. “I swear if we ever have the gay talk I'm wandering into traffic afterwards and you'll have to explain to Mom why.”
“I never said I was good at this.” Pete smiled some.
“You're alright. You could be a douche about the whole thing but you're not. I'm really doing OK. I'm just trying to get through senior year. I only do the requisite amount of illegal high school boy things. I do think about you and Mom before I do something really, really dumb. And I never have unprotected sex. Everything’s fine.”
“I know kids only talk to their parents on TV but we do worry.”
“Kids only completely keep their parents out on TV too.” Anderson said. “In real life it’s a little bit of both.”
“Well you should invite Hotch over for dinner or something. He's someone new in your life and your mom and I would love to meet him formally.”
“OK, I will.”
“I’ll spare you anymore awkwardness.” Pete stood up from the bed.
“Do you promise?”
“Eat you dinner, and talk to your mom before bed tonight. You know she worries about you.”
“Done and done. Cross my heart.” Anderson did it for emphasis. “And Pete?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t ever want it to seem like I don’t appreciate you. You take care of us…you're a good head of this family. You're not my biological dad but it takes heart and balls and strength for a man to come in and raise another man’s kids like his own. I'm glad you're here.”
Pete smiled. It was the closest Anderson would ever come to saying he loved him. He didn’t even know if he did but that’s because he usually tried not to think too much about his feelings. The loss of his dad had been devastating. He knew at thirteen he never wanted to experience anything like that again.
So he closed certain parts of himself off, even with those he loved the most. The truth was there would be a hole in the Anderson family if Pete weren’t there. He was a good guy, a good husband and father. Anderson would always respect that.
“Love you too, kid. See ya later.”
“Bye.”
Pete left and Anderson went back to his paper. He wanted to finish it tonight so he could have the week free to study for other midterms. There was still yearbook and he accidentally volunteered, or was pushed, into painting sets for LBJ’s upcoming spring production of Macbeth. It was either that or audition and the latter was out of the question. His mother assured him these things would look good on college applications that had already been sent out. Anderson wasn’t so sure about it but less and less free time meant less time to contemplate all the changes that were about to take place in his life. He wished all he had to worry about was love connections, or lack thereof.
***
“Hey Aaron, come on in.”
Hotch walked into his stepfather’s study. Lucius ‘Tug’ Preston, a Richmond, Virginia native, was a judge on the United States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit. Most of those in the know said a position there was the last major stepping stone to the United States Supreme Court. While Tug couldn’t say those were his ambitions, he surely wouldn’t look a gift nomination in the mouth.
He was perfectly content with where he was, and so was his wife. Hotch had a decent relationship with his stepfather, he was surely kinder to him than his father had been much of the time. It seemed weird that Alexander Hotchner had been dead in the ground barely six months when his mother remarried but he knew their marriage was a sham for some time. She was happier than she’d been in years so that was enough for Hotch. The peace and tranquility of the household helped with that.
“I was wondering if I could ask a favor.”
“Sure, sit down.” Tug pointed to the chair across from his large, cherry oak desk. “What do you need?”
“Well, you're friends with David Rossi right?” Hotch sat down.
“Dave and I have known each other for some time.”
“He's giving a talk at Georgetown in January on serial killers and modern media. I wanted to get tickets but it’s sold out. I know that doesn’t always mean there aren't seats left so I was wondering if it was possible for you to get two tickets for me. Normally I wouldn’t ask that kind of thing…”
“I don’t mind you asking me for things, Aaron.”
“I have the money.” Hotch said. “I can pay you for the tickets. It’s my friend’s birthday on December 28th and he wants to be an FBI profiler someday. I thought if he could go to this lecture it would be really cool for him.”
“Which friend?”
Tug was concerned about Aaron. He seemed to be a quiet, withdrawn kid. He’d known him practically all of his life and he wasn’t like that as a small child. Too many years with Alexander had beat him down.
His stepfather never saw him with many friends. Hotch went to school, made good grades, played baseball, and basically tried to disappear into the walls when he was home. It was hard to get close to him, in a fatherly way, but Tug didn’t plan on giving up. While he would never try to buy Hotch’s affections, it might be nice to do this for him.
“His name is Anderson.” Hotch replied. “We’re on yearbook staff together.”
“I've heard his name a few times.” Tug smiled. “He wants to be a profiler, huh?”
“Yes sir. He's really into serial killers and pathology. Not in a creepy way; Anderson wants to know what makes bad people tick. I think if anyone has the answer, it’s David Rossi.”
“Are you and Anderson good friends.”
“Yes.” Hotch nodded without a second thought. The two boys were more than friends with benefits, though Hotch couldn’t deny the benefits.
“Don’t be afraid to bring him around.” Tug said. “Your mother and I would love to meet your friends. We know it’s been hard for you since the breakup with Haley…”
“That was over a year ago.”
“I know, but that kind of thing is never easy for a teenage boy. I've noticed that you’ve been spending more time out and I'm glad you're spreading your wings.”
“Thank you.” Hotch looked at his lap and gave a little nod.
He didn’t want to have this conversation. His stepfather was a good man but Hotch just kept to himself. He didn’t want to be a juvenile delinquent, had learned his lesson with that a few years ago. He had hopes and dreams but wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Before he met Anderson, Hotch only cared about leaving the District and starting a new life somewhere else. Now living day to day with the new friends he made, Hotch opened himself up to awesome experiences where he’d been trying to get away from all of these years.
“I’ll call Dave and get those tickets for you. Don’t tell your friend but I’ll see if he can find some extra time, talk a little with you boys.” Tug said. “This Georgetown lecture will be accompanied by a formal meet and greet with the people deemed important. One phone call and I’ll have you deemed such.”
“That would be awesome.” Hotch smiled and his dimples showed. Anderson would lose it if he actually got to meet David Rossi. The famous profiler’s books lined his bookshelves. He watched his interviews on YouTube and probably knew his public history better than the man himself. “I would appreciate that.”
“It’s not a problem.” His stepfather smiled. “May I ask you a favor as well?”
“Sure.” His response was apprehensive. Hotch didn’t know what was coming but if Tug did this for him what right did he have to turn down a favor asked in return. He’d known Tug a long time and was almost sure he wouldn’t ask for something Hotch would downright refuse.
“Bring your friends around a little more. I know as parents we’re kept in the dark about many aspects of our children’s lives, but we want to know the people you enjoy spending time with.”
“Even if they're different than you ever imagined? Even if it seems someone like me would never hang out with someone like them?”
“Aaron, I never imagined you as a close minded person.” Tug said. “I imagine your friends cover every range of the spectrum.”
They were Anderson's friends actually, not his, but he and Anderson were friends. Maybe having him over for dinner wouldn’t be horrific. They would both get through it and then maybe his parents would stop asking. It was something to think about.
“It’s a busy time of the year for all of us.” Hotch said. “But we’ll see what happens after the New Year.”
“Good enough.” Tug smiled.
“Thanks Tug.” Hotch stood up from the chair. “Goodnight.”
“You're not going to bed this early are you?”
“No, but I have some studying to do. Its midterm time so I want to make sure I cover all my bases.”
Tug nodded and Hotch walked out. He went straight to the kitchen for something to eat. His mother was out at one of her many events tonight and his stepfather would most likely work in his study a few more hours. His brother Sean, who was just seven, was already in bed for the night.
The house had an eerie quiet to it at this hour. These were the times Hotch could still hear his father in the walls. He shook off the sounds and made himself a sandwich. It had been a good day, a good evening too. If his stepfather came through with these tickets things were going to get even better.
***
“Is it stepfather night or something?” Hotch asked.
“What do you mean?”
Anderson was relaxing on his bed listening to the rain fall out his window. He was supposed to be in bed; tonight was a school night after all. He preferred to smoke off the roach that he had left in his nightstand drawer, listen to some Julian Lennon, and talk on the phone with Hotch.
“I had an awkward conversation with my stepfather today too.”
“Did he ask if we were gay together?” Anderson asked.
“Oh God no. Did yours?”
“Yeah.”
“My parents want to meet my friends.” Hotch said. “They want you to come over to dinner.”
“Mine said the same. I’ll play straight for you if you do the same for me.”
“I wasn’t saying you had to do that.”
“Well you do, mostly so Pete won't think he’s right. I know he and Mom are much more interested in my sex life than they would ever be if I was having sex with girls.”
“Sometimes it seems like the only thing our parents know about LGBT life is afterschool specials and AIDS.” Hotch said.
“Please don’t get me started.” Anderson rolled his eyes. “I wish you were here right now.”
“Why?”
“I've got some leftover Belarussian weed and Julian Lennon on vinyl.”
“Is that code for something or are you serious?” Hotch asked.
“I'm serious.” Anderson laughed. “I've got to get you high.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you'd be a hoot. I think you’d like Julian’s music too. It fits the gray areas of me and also the sunshine I seek. Damn, that was good…I could write for Rolling Stone or something. I could be like that kid in Almost Famous.”
“Are you sure that’s only a roach you're smoking?” Hotch asked.
“Mmm hmm. So we’re gonna do the parent/dinner thing?” Anderson asked.
“I think it could save us a lot of trouble.”
“You do realize we’ll be meeting each other’s parents.”
“I've given that a lot of thought. I'm still on the side of saving us a lot of trouble.”
“And we’re totally not boyfriends?” Anderson asked.
“Not boyfriends.” Hotch shook his head though Anderson couldn’t see that over the phone.
“And you're still all crushed about that, right?”
“I'm absolutely devastated; cross my heart.”
“You're not cute…nevermind, yes you are. I should probably get some sleep.”
“You need a ride to school tomorrow?” Hotch asked.
“Nope, I'm good. Amanda and I are taking the train. You wanna do lunch? It'll be a group thing.”
“Sure. Don’t smoke too much, OK?”
“OK. If you can't sleep take something, would you?”
“I will.” Hotch replied. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight. Sweet dreams, Aaron Hotchner.”
***