Work Text:
Damien took pride in being a calm, understanding father. He couldn't remember a time when he'd ever yelled at Lucien for anything, no matter how dangerous or stupid the stunt. This, however? This was different.
Lucien had gone out (without telling him, like he usually did) and he finally decided to do something that he'd quite frankly, been scared of doing for months: clean his room. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone into his son's room and been able to see the floor, and he knew that the most effort he'd put in to making it presentable was taking out his trash every so often. It was a little embarrassing, but it was also Lucien's room, so Damien thought that it would be best that he was in charge of it.
naturally, he started with the easy stuff- he cleared out his dirty laundry (90% of it he was sure had never been washed) and gathered all the empty cans of Monster into a black plastic sack- and it was then that he noticed it.
Lucien had a grey backpack that he took with him almost everywhere. Damien had no idea what was in it but didn't really want to invade his son's privacy so he just let it slide. He was a little surprised when he saw that he hadn't taken it with him and even more surprised when he saw that it was just sitting in the corner of his room completely unzipped. Well, if it was open when Lucien wasn't there to guard it with his life like he usually did then surely whatever was in it couldn't be that bad. It was probably just something that he would usually call 'lame'- hey, maybe Lucien kept a diary just like he did.
Okay, maybe he'd got his hopes up a little with the diary, but he certainly hadn't been expecting to reach into the back and pull out several small baggies of weed. It took him a moment to proccess what he was looking at, and several more moments to work out what to do with it. Should he throw it away and pretend he hadn't found it? Should he just put it back and not bring it up? He didn't want to make Lucien angry at him, so maybe it was best to just leave it be.
Damien was genuinely considering acting like he'd never even been in his son's room when he changed his mind. Lucien had done things in the past that were bad, mean and sometimes just plain stupid. But this was new territory. This was illegal. Damien didn't know if he was buying or selling it, but judging by the money shoved messily into a plastic wallet at the bottom of the bag, it was probably the latter. He'd been relatively relaxed about his son's antics in the past but he had to draw the line somewhere- and that somewhere was breaking the law.
He pocketed the weed and left his room, shutting the door behind him and calling Lucien. He picked up after a few rings like he usually did much to Damien's relief. "Hey, Dad, what's-"
"Lucien, I need you to come home," he quickly said, trying his best to hide the anger in his voice.
"What? Why?"
"Just come home, you'll know why then."
"But Dad-"
"Lucien Daniel Bloodmarch, do not argue with me." That was sure to get him to come home- Damien had never used his full name like that, no matter what he'd done.
There was a short silence before Lucien sighed and mumbled "Fine, whatever," before hanging up.
For the next ten minutes Damien paced up and down the hallway, wondering how on Earth he was going to handle this. He could be calm and diplomatic about it, but somehow he didn't think he'd manage to do that when he was this angry. Besides, a relaxed chat really wasn't in order when cannabis was involved. Should he ask him where he got it from? No, that wouldn't get him anywhere. He didn't actually care where Lucien got it from anyway, he just wanted him to stop selling it. Should he ask why he did it? No, definitely not- he was a little scared of what the answer would be. Lucien hadn't exactly had the most normal childhood- what with one father leaving and his other father transitioning. Had this had an effect on him? Was that why he was selling weed? Was this some kind of strange coping method? It was most likely not, and in all honesty he was over thinking this just a little. But still, if he didn't ask he knew that he'd never risk hearing it.
He still hadn't thought of anything when Lucien arrived home, earphones in his ears and hands in his pockets.
"What did you want?" He asked, taking off his jacket and dumping it on the couch, sitting down and putting his feet up on the table.
Damien pulled the weed out of his pocket and held it out in front of him. "I want to know what this was doing in your bag," he said, raising his voice a little, "And what possessed you to sell it in the first place!" Lucien didn't answer at first; instead, he gave a slight chuckle, folding his arms and slouching a little in his seat. "I don't understand why this is funny, Lucien," Damien said, sitting down opposite him, "Please just explain why you're selling cannabis."
"I don't have to."
"Lucien, you could be arrested for this!'
Again, his son laughed. "It's not weed, dad."
"... What?"
"It's not weed," he repeated, "Its oregano, I got it from the garden. I sell it to dumb middle schoolers who think they're being cool."
Damien sighed heavily, sitting down opposite him and rubbing his temple. He took a minute to think through what his son had told him, wondering if that was better or worse than actually being in possession of cannabis. It was better, he soon decided, but not better enough that he was no longer angry. "Why did you..." His voice trailed off as Lucien continued to laugh, reaching for the not-weed on the table. Damien snatched it away from him before he could take it, giving him a firm 'I'm still mad at you' look before going over the fireplace and emptying each of the small plastic bags into the flames. "Go and get the rest of it."
"But Dad...!"
"I'm not going to repeat myself again, Lucien," he said, "Go upstairs and get the rest of the oregano."
Lucien stood up but paused before he left. "I take it you want me to give you the money too?" he asked.
Damien sighed again. "Keep it," he said, turning around to face him as he heard a soft 'yes' from his son. "You're grounded for two months, though," he said, "And I'm confiscating your phone."
Lucien's face immediately fell, but he pretended he didn't care, shrugging and mumbling something under his breath as he left the room.
He smiled a little to himself as he watched his son head upstairs. Sometimes he wondered if he'd put too much pressure on himself for bringing up a teenager by himself. But if he didn't, he might not get things like that- stupid, maddening things that made fatherhood so special. And he wouldn't miss that for the world.