Archive of Our Own

If Dan was being honest with himself, he hadn’t given much thought to how Herbert would interact with his family. He was caught up in the rush of the two of them, of the blossoming spring of their young romance. Herbert was just about all he could think about, from the moment he opened his eyes in the morning, all through the school day and after, until he settled down for bed once again at night. Even then, he’d sometimes see Herbert’s sharp smile in his dreams.

There were their secret lunches on the bleachers, their long drives through the woods, Herbert ranting about this or that as Dan nodded along, his hand resting on Herbert’s thigh. And the kissing—lots and lots of kissing. So much kissing that Dan was pretty sure he could guess what brand of toothpaste Herbert used.

All of it left Dan floating on air and singularly occupied with Herbert, leaving little room to consider anything else. Such as, what his parents might think of his sudden, extreme fixation on a kid from school they’d never once met or heard about before.

Of course, Dan took some precautions. He wasn’t so far gone as to completely forego all subtlety. He tried to slip Herbert up to his room without his mom noticing. He kept the door locked—what with all the kissing going on—and made-up stories about baseball practice or hanging out with Meg, when really, he was going out to meet Herbert. Aside from the nagging guilt at lying to his parents, he thought the situation of having a secret boyfriend was going about as well as it could be.

Maybe it was because he was so happy and giddy that he lost focus and slipped up.

One afternoon he had Herbert over at his house, enjoying having the place to themselves. The spring sun was warm enough to convince Herbert to shuck his button-up in favour of one of Dan’s t-shirts. It was an old Red Sox shirt he’d had since his grandpa had taken him to a game in Boston when he was thirteen. The fabric was worn and thin with use, but on Herbert it looked like a million bucks. Dan didn’t think he’d ever get over the sensation of looking at Herbert in his clothes. It did some acrobatic things to his stomach.

They were in the kitchen, Herbert sat on the countertop while Dan flipped grilled cheeses over the stove. Herbert was complaining about people who drove with their windows down, blasting music, and Dan was nodding along while also with-holding the information that he, himself, did this on a semi-regular basis. He was so absorbed in Herbert’s use of the word ‘ignoramus’ that he didn’t even hear the front door open.

“Dan? Help me with these bags, will you?”

Dan’s stomach dropped to his feet as he turned just in time to see his mother appear in the kitchen doorway. Her arms were laden with grocery bags, and she was puffing from her walk from the car. Her cheeks were ruddy, and a few strands of hair were loose from her ponytail, stuck to her face and caught in the corners of her mouth. Her eyes, the same shade of brown as Dan’s, fell on the strange boy sitting on her countertop and widened slightly.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, and Herbert hurriedly jumped to the floor, taking half a step back as though he wanted to hide behind Dan. But she was smiling as she bustled forward and set the bags down in front of the dishwasher. “I didn’t realise we had company! Dan, where are your manners? Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

One thing you could always count on in Leanne Cain was her joy at meeting new people. She was practically beaming at Herbert, who stood frozen to the spot, visibly alarmed at having to interact with a Cain who wasn’t Dan. Dan wasn’t loving this development himself, but he couldn’t make the situation disappear now, so he swallowed his rising panic and gestured between Herbert and his mom.

“Uh, Mom, this is Herbert. Herbert, this is my mom.”

“Hello, Mrs. Cain,” Herbert said stoically, and Leanne flapped her hands.

“Please, call me Leanne. Although that is very nice and polite of you.” She aimed a look at Dan. “Someone could learn a thing or two of that.”

Dan scratched at the back of his neck, embarrassment heating his cheeks. “Mom, come on.”

“You come on and help me with these bags,” she fired back, and Dan held up his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay. I’m going.”

He went for the door and cast a look over his shoulder at Herbert, who was staring after him with wide, beseeching eyes, but Dan had no choice but to leave him there with his motormouth of a mother. By the time he made it back from the car with the last two bags of groceries, Leanne had already poured Herbert a glass of orange juice and was talking at him a million miles a minute. Herbert stood in that same ramrod straight way, the juice clasped tightly in his hand, as he just stared at her mutely while she spoke.

“-so nice to see teenagers at home after school, and not off somewhere, causing trouble,” she was saying. “I remember some of the things I’d get up to with Dan’s father when we were young and I tell you, I could die-“

“Hey, Mom,” Dan cut in, sliding smoothly between the disaster that was brewing in the kitchen. “Me and Herbert are gonna hang out in my room now.”

Leanne sucked in a deep breath, her tirade having lasted probably a minute with no air, then she smiled fondly at him. “Yes, alright. I’ll get out of your hair. Can’t have your mom embarrassing you in front of your new friend.”

Dan didn’t dispute this as he piled their grilled cheeses onto a couple of plates and fled up the stairs, Herbert hot on his heels. Leanne called something after him about not playing his music too loud and he yelled some noncommittal sound back at her. Only once they were shut up in his room did Dan let out his breath and relax.

“Sorry,” he said to Herbert, trying to calm his racing heart. “I thought she’d be out until later.”

Herbert shrugged, though that stiffness hadn’t totally melted out of his posture yet. “It’s fine.”

Dan peered at him closely. “It’s not weird for you?”

“Weird?” Herbert scrunched up his nose, and Dan was briefly distracted with how cute he was. “Why would it be weird?”

“I don’t know…” Dan trailed off. All he could think was that it was weird to see two people who he saw every day, but were so decidedly separate parts of Dan’s life, in the same room together. He saw his mom in the mornings and the evenings, for breakfast and dinner, and he saw Herbert during the day, but he never saw them at the same time. “It just is.”

Herbert pursed his lips but said nothing as he sat on the edge of Dan’s bed and accepted his grilled cheese.

After that it was only a matter of time before Leanne got her way and had Herbert around her dinner table. Dan tried to be more careful. He kept his eyes and ears open whenever his parents talked about their plans around the breakfast table and co-ordinated Herbert’s visits around these. This did no good, as his mom seemed to have some kind of sixth sense at detecting whenever Herbert had been in the house. She’d come home, sweep her eyes across the stairwell, then turn to Dan and ask, “Oh, did Herbert come over again?” Her accuracy was unnerving.

Dan attempted to solve his mother’s bloodhound nose for his boyfriend by getting them both out of the house, opting for driving around and laying in their favourite field. Herbert didn’t bat an eye at this change in routine, seemingly content to lean back in the passenger and flick through Dan’s cassettes. This more private setting proved advantageous in ways Dan hadn’t expected, such as giving them a place to really get to know each other, often with fewer layers of clothes between them. He’d never been more thankful for his car, though he didn’t think his parents would’ve given it to him if they’d known he would one day use it to drive and mess around with boys.

Dan chose not to ponder too long on that.

This was all done in vain though, as on one of the rare nights Dan deemed it safe to have Herbert over at his house, they were caught. The two of them were in the living room watching a James Bond movie, Dan sat up and Herbert laying on his side with his head in Dan’s lap. Dan stroked his hair absent-mindedly as they watched. The lights were all off and the TV screen threw out beams of glaring light, casting long shadows across the walls. The lights flashed across the lenses of Herbert’s glasses, but Herbert just laid there, lightly chewing at his thumb as Bond jumped across rooftops.

 “You’re a bit like James Bond,” Herbert commented, breaking a long lapse of silence.

Dan puffed up at the remark and grinned down at him. “Why? Because I’m so handsome and charming?”

Herbert didn’t look away from the screen as he replied, “No. You’re also obsessed with sex.”

Dan guffawed. “I am not. Honestly, you talk about me like I’m some kinda sex pervert.”

Herbert rolled onto his back and smirked up at him. “Aren’t all gays automatically sex perverts?”

“I’m neither of those things,” Dan said.

He supposed it was pointless to continue to insist that he wasn’t an exclusive gay, like Herbert. After all, he had a boyfriend now, who maybe he was slightly obsessed with. Girls no longer played the same role in his life, though they still existed and remained as delightful to look at as ever. Maybe he’d eventually reach a point of ambivalence towards girls, like vegetarians who hadn’t eaten meat in so long, they no longer felt any craving for it. He doubted it though.

Herbert just rolled his eyes with a wry smile. “If you say so.”

It was at this moment that the door flew open, and Leanne’s voice rang loud as a gong through the house. “Danny, we’re home!”

Herbert flew across the couch and the two of them scrambled to sit up and look casual. Leanne’s footsteps clopped across the floorboards and Dan whipped around just in time to see her silhouette materialise in the doorframe.

“Hi, Mom,” he managed to croak.

The lights flicked on, and he winced against the light. He squinted through the sudden brightness assaulting his eyes and saw his mother’s face light up.

“Oh, hello!” she crowed, and Dan was already internally sighing. “So nice to see you again, Herbert dear.”

Herbert slowly sat up straight, his hair flattened to one side of his head after laying in Dan’s lap for the better part of two hours. “Erm, hello, Mrs. Cain.”

“We’ve been over this!” she cried with faux drama. “It’s Leanne, Herbie!” Herbert physically recoiled at the nickname and even Leanne seemed to notice because she cleared her throat and amended, “Herbert.”

A moment later the door was kicked open again, this time permitting Dan’s father. Scott Cain bustled through the door, shucking his dripping coat with a shiver and a loud “Brr!” Leanne always liked to say that Dan was the spitting image of his dad. Dan didn’t disagree but he thought the only reason she said this was because they had the same roman nose. Otherwise, Scott had sandy blonde hair, pale green eyes, and arms roped with muscle from a lifetime of pulling weeds and hammering away at fences. 

“That rain’s really something,” he announced, pushing his damp hair off his high forehead.

Dan had been keeping an ear out on the rain that had been drumming against the roof all afternoon. It was only with the door open that he heard just how thunderous it was and caught sight of the flooding rain outside. He saw a flicker of lightening illuminate the sky before his dad pushed the door shut, muffling the noise of the storm once more.

“Is that why you guys are back so soon?” Dan asked, trying to keep his tone light and casual, hoping the nervous racing of his heart didn’t leak into his words.

Leanne nodded. “Mm. We got halfway to the restaurant before we couldn’t even see two feet in front of us. I was worried we were going to crash into someone, or someone was gonna crash into us. Oh, it was terrible. I’ve never liked driving in the rain, much less a storm like this. You know that, Dan.”

Scott came into the living room and laid eyes on Herbert for the first time. His gaze flickered over him before he gave him a smile, though his brow was furrowed. He looked like he was trying to figure Herbert out, puzzling how he fit into Dan’s life. It could’ve been the curious look of a parent taking in a new friend of their child, completely innocuous, but Dan’s paranoid brain could only jump to the worst conclusions. Was Herbert visibly queer but Dan was so used to him that he just didn’t notice it? Was the two of them hanging out alone suspicious?

Of course not. Straight friends hang out alone together all the time, his mind chided him, but he couldn’t shake that every look and movement his parents made was a sign that they knew something was fishy.

“Hello there,” Scott greeted with smile and a tilt of his head.

Herbert, his knees folded up close to his chest, nodded cautiously back. “Hello.”

“Hope we didn’t crash your party,” Scott laughed jovially, hands going to his hips. Dan always thought of this as his ‘belly laugh’ pose, as though his dad wanted to open his lungs to bellow as loud as he could. He and his mother were a match made in heaven that way.

“Uh, no. No party,” Dan said and hurried to swipe up the remote and turn off the TV. “We were just hanging out…Watching a movie.”

Scott wagged an appreciative finger. “Ah, yes. Bond. One of my personal favourites.” He spun suddenly on Herbert pointing a finger gun at him, and said in a truly awful Sean Connery impersonation, “Shaken, not stirred.”

Herbert just blinked at him, bewildered, but Scott didn’t seem to notice, laughing another belly laugh.

Dan quickly stepped in before Herbert sunk through the sofa cushions. “This is Herbert. He’s from school.”

“Yes,” Scott said, abruptly cutting his chuckling off, “your mother mentioned him. Good to put a face to the name.” Stepping up to Herbert, he stuck out a hand. “Scott.”

Herbert eyed his hand warily before taking it. “Um, hello.”

Scott wrung his hand, pumping vigorously, almost sending Herbert tumbling to the floor. “Good to meet you, Champ.” He released his chokehold on Herbert’s hand and Herbert fumbled with his glasses, putting them back in place from where they’d slipped down his nose.

Leanne was on her way to the kitchen when she called over her shoulder, “You’ll stay for dinner, won’t you, Herbert dear?”

Dan felt his own spine stiffen and watched Herbert bolt up to his feet. “Uh, no.” When he caught the look Dan aimed at him, he amended, “No, thank you. I really should be heading home.”

Leanne intercepted the meaningful look he gave Dan and shook her head emphatically. “No, Dan. I don’t want you driving in this weather. It’s not safe.”

“That’s alright,” Herbert answered swiftly. “I can call home and have someone pick me up.”

“I don’t think so,” came Scott’s voice and they turned to see him facing the TV, the channel switched to the news. A reporter’s voice played over footage of the outside streets, the rain pouring in sheets, flooding the gutters and roads. Lightning flashed across the sky and wind tore at the trees, nearly bending them in half with the force of the gale. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s driving tonight. ‘Lotta roads are closed from flooding.”

Dan tried to decipher Herbert’s cagey expression. He looked near to a panic, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, watching the broadcast with a pinched mouth.

“I can still try,” Herbert pressed, darting a look at the phone hanging on the wall.

Leanne looked doubtful as she began pulling out pots and pans from the cupboard. “You can certainly call and let your parents know where you are, but I wouldn’t hold your breath. Hope you like spaghetti!“

Herbert dashed into the hall and Dan watched after him, listless. He was at a loss of what to do or how to react. He’d never anticipated his two worlds converging so suddenly like this. Maybe that was dumb of him to think that his life could remain cleaved down the middle into two neat halves, but his mind didn’t seem able to reconcile a single world containing both Herbert and his parents.

Herbert was speaking in a low voice into the phone, cupping the receiver over his mouth. Dan strained to make out what he was saying but before he could sidle up to him, his mom was calling for his help in the kitchen. He reluctantly retreated, staring at Herbert’s hunched figure until he was physically pulled away.

“Here you go,” Leanne said and slapped a block of cheese into Dan’s palm. “Make yourself useful and grate some cheese. Thank youuu!”

She left him with the cheese grater and tipped dry spaghetti into a boiling pot over the stove. Dan went about his task without complaint. He was regularly called on by his parents to help with whatever menial task they requested. With his mom it was prepping food for meals or holding up the couch so she could vacuum under it. With his dad it was holding the ladder steady while he cleaned the roof gutters or hung up Christmas lights. Anything they needed, Dan was there and happy to help.

Herbert emerged a few minutes later, his mouth hooked down in a sullen frown. He stood adrift at the entrance of the kitchen and Dan nodded at the kitchen island.

“Sit here.”

“Okay…”

He did sit, perched on the edge of the bar stool, facing Dan, who was now onto dicing tomatoes. He wanted desperately to reach out and touch Herbert, squeeze his hand, rub his shoulders, stroke his hair—anything to relieve the stress evidently bunched up in his joints. But he couldn’t do that with his mom right behind him and his dad still watching TV just the next room over. So, instead he offered him a small, wordless smile. Herbert, his head ducked and hair falling over his eyes, caught that smile and returned it, though a little more strained.

“They said they’d wait for the storm to blow over,” Herbert said. “It should lighten up, hopefully soon.”

Dan nodded. “Okay. Who’d you talk to? Your…mom?”

Herbert glanced away. “No. It was our driver, Niles.”

“Well, it’s okay. You get to have dinner, Cain-style.”

“I’m not dressed though.”

Dan frowned at Herbert’s sweater vest and trousers combo. “Whattaya mean? You look dressed to me.”

Herbert picked at a frayed thread at his shoulder and said nothing.

“What’re your thoughts on spaghetti, Herbert?” Leanne asked abruptly, stirring the pasta around with a ladle. Herbert blinked at the random question but opened his mouth to reply (probably with something unknowingly snarky like, “I don’t make a habit of spending my time by pondering random foods”), but Leanne barrelled on before he could speak. “I just love it! Italian food in general is my favourite. Oh, but I do love a gözleme…That’s Turkish, isn’t it? Or is it Greek? My goodness, I don’t even know where my favourite food’s from! That’s like saying I don’t know who Dan’s father is and I’m about ninety-nine percent sure on that one. Scott! Is gözleme Turkish or Greek?”

Dan and Herbert locked eyes across the counter. Herbert’s eyebrows rose an imperceptible amount and Dan had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

The rest of the cooking time was spent much the same, with Leanne prattling on about food, then cooking shows, then celebrity chefs, then just plain celebrities, before she somehow got on the topic of France.

“I just think it looks so romantic,” she sighed dreamily, setting the bowls down on the placemats Dan had laid out. “We were thinking of going there for our honeymoon, weren’t we, Scott?”

Scott, who had finally emerged from the living room, straightened up at his name. “You were dreaming of it, more like it. The day we can afford a trip to France is the day I ask you about some secret side hustle.”

“France is okay,” Herbert said, taking a seat beside Dan. “I prefer the small towns over Paris though.”

“Oh!” Leanne chirped, delighted. “I didn’t realise we had a seasoned traveller at our table. When did you go to Paris?”

Herbert shrugged as he considered his spaghetti. “A few years ago. It was my mother’s idea.”

“Hey, Herbert,” Scott began with a twinkle in his eye. “Where do fruits go on vacation?” Dan was already groaning as Herbert stared, flummoxed. “To Pear-is!” Then Scott tossed a pear that he must’ve somehow swiped from the fruit bowl without any of them noticing, to Herbert, who jolted with surprise and fumbled to catch it. But his hand-eye coordination was about as good as that of a worm, and he bounced the pear off his shoulder and dropped it. Scott raised an eyebrow at this. “Guess you guys aren’t on the baseball team together.”

 “No, we’re not,” Dan agreed as Herbert glared down at his own lap. “But Herbert’s been starting to get a real appreciation for it.”

“Your old man doesn’t follow it then?” Scott asked.

Dan had gained his love of baseball from his father, who was an avid fan of just about every sport on the planet. As soon as Dan could hold a bat, his dad was taking him to little league games and playing catch with him in the yard. He had countless memories of the two of them tossing the ball into each other’s mitts. A lot of those early memories included Billy, but Dan didn’t want to think about that right now.

“No,” Herbert replied, twirling pasta around his fork. “He’s not very…sporty. He plays golf sometimes.”

“I’ve landscaped a couple golf courses,” Scott remarked, shovelling spaghetti into his mouth. He barely chewed before swallowing and pointing his fork at Herbert. “A few real nice ones around here.”

Scott Cain had owned and operated the same hardware and landscaping business for fifteen years. Their home wasn’t anything too flashy, but their garden outshone any in the state. Scott only had to look at a wilting plant and it would straighten up and flower back to full health. Dan could always count on presents from his father to be either baseball or plant related. For his last birthday he’d gotten him a new Red Sox jersey and a row of succulents that lived on his windowsill. He’d named the short, prickly one Herbert.

“So, how did you two meet?” Leanne asked as they all dug in.

“At school,” Herbert replied simply, and Dan stifled a laugh.

“I think she means how did we meet at school,” Dan supplied.

Herbert lowered his utensils. “Oh.” Leanne just smiled patiently as he collected himself and eventually said, “We were lab partners.”

Leanne’s eyes lit up and she slammed her hands down on the tabletop, rattling the silverware. Herbert jumped in his seat but Dan and Scott, used to Leanne’s theatrics, just held their cups from tipping over and kept eating.

“Are you that one boy above Dan in all those Science classes?” Leanne asked, leaning over the table. “You are, aren’t you! I should’ve known, a smart cookie like you. Oh, Dan would always talk about this one boy in his classes he couldn’t beat. If Dan got 99%, he got 100%. If Dan got 100%, he’d finish first and get extra credit.” Her eyes twinkled as she looked at him. “I swear it drove him crazy, the amount he’d talk about it.”

“Is that right?” Herbert asked mildly, sliding a glance across at Dan.

Dan’s cheeks glowed with heat as he ducked down over his bowl, his shoulders hunching up around his ears. “Mom, come on,” he grumbled. “I didn’t talk about it that much. I mentioned it once, that’s all.”

“Once a day if we were lucky,” Leanne retorted. “No shame in being jealous, Danny.”

“Yes, Danny,” Herbert echoed with a self-satisfied grin. “Don’t worry, I won’t think less of you for it.”

Dan narrowed his eyes at him. “Whatever. I could beat you in Gym any day.”

Herbert gave him a look. “That’s not exactly an accomplishment, Dan.”

Scott threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Gym was just about the only class I was ever good at. I was especially terrible at English.” He smiled again at Herbert, that same smile that told Dan he was about to hear another terrible Dad joke. “I only know twenty-five letters of the alphabet. I don’t know Y.”

Dan sighed and shook his head, and Leanne lightly swatted Scott’s shoulder. Herbert just looked confused.

“You don’t know why?” he said.

“The letter Y, Herbert,” Dan murmured behind his hand, and Herbert eyebrows rose with recognition.

“Oh.” He laughed three times in quick succession and smiled down at his dinner. “That’s funny.”

“Thank you!” Scott boomed. “Finally, someone appreciates my golden jokes. You two ingrates could learn a thing or two.”

Dan snorted but decided not to comment further. They continued eating and talking, Leanne badgering Herbert with all kinds of questions about school and what his interests were, and Scott throwing in awful jokes whenever he could. The tension that had been bunched in Dan’s shoulders slowly eased as the night wore on. The mood in the dining room was surprisingly relaxed. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected at having Herbert over for dinner—apparently, he’d had some deep-seated fear that either his parents would immediately recognise what was going on with them, or they would find Herbert insufferable. He didn’t know what he’d do in either situation.

But that wasn’t what was happening. Herbert was putting on a good face, keeping his snark in check and acting perfectly pleasant, if a little clueless to Scott’s jokes. He didn’t show any exasperation as Leanne continued to ask him endless questions on a litany of topics. He just sat with his ramrod posture, poised as he slurped his spaghetti without getting any marinara sauce on his face. Dan smiled warmly as he watched him. Herbert really was full of surprises.

Dan pressed his foot to Herbert’s under the table. It was the most he could do with his parents sitting across from them but just the pressure of their shoes touching was enough in that moment. Herbert glanced over at him, keeping his poker face in place, but when their eyes connected, he scratched at his chin and Dan smiled into his cup of water.

One thing that wasn’t letting up though was the storm. By the time they’d all finished eating and Leanne and Dan had taken the dishes into the kitchen, the rain was still thundering against the roof. The weather reports told that the storm was set to continue well into the night and early morning, leaving half the town under water. Herbert paced anxiously, eyes glued to the TV as images of the flooded streets splayed across the screen.

“Don’t worry so much, Dear,” Leanne said, watching him. “You can stay here the night. We can drag the foam mattress into Dan’s room, and he can sleep on the floor, and you can have his bed. Or one of you can take the couch. Whatever you like.”

Herbert’s cagey eyes said he’d like to go home. Dan wasn’t sure what he was so nervous about. They’d camped during a storm with just a tent to separate them from the elements, so it couldn’t be that he feared the weather.

“I’m going to make another call,” Herbert announced, then disappeared back down the hall.

Leanne watched after him with worried eyes. She leaned close to Dan and whispered, “Is he alright? Did all your father’s jokes make him uncomfortable?”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Dan reassured her. “He just gets a little…funny sometimes.”

Leanne hummed, her brow still creased. Herbert’s murmuring drifted over to them and before Dan knew what was happening, Leanne was bustling past him and wrenching the phone out of Herbert’s hand.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” she chirped. “We’ll keep him safe and dry for the night, no problem at all!” Herbert was rigid, his eyes bugging as she nodded and ‘Mhmm!’ed to whoever was on the other end. After a few moments she set the phone back on the hook and gave Herbert a sunny smile. “There we go! All sorted. You’ll stay with us for the night. Now Dan, show Herbert up to your room and grab that mattress.”

Dan hovered by the kitchen uncertainly. “What about the dishes?”

She waved him off, ushering him and Herbert to the foot of the stairs. “I can handle them myself tonight. You have a guest. Now off you go, both of you.”

Dan went up the stairs slowly, Herbert behind him, still looking thrown off. When they finally reached his room and the door was shut behind them, Dan heaved a sigh. Out of sight of his parents, he could finally drop all pretences that Herbert was just some friend from school and relax. Turning and leaning his back against the door, he observed Herbert plonk himself on the edge of the bed and rip his shoes off.

“Well, that went pretty well,” Dan said, and Herbert rolled his eyes.

“Is that so surprising? What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Something different I guess.”

Herbert narrowed his eyes at him. “You thought I’d behave badly, didn’t you?”

“No,” Dan answered quickly, thinking this exact thing.

“You did. God.” Herbert shook his head. “Always assuming the worst in me.”

“Well, what was I supposed to think?” Dan asked, throwing himself on the bed beside Herbert, bouncing them both on the mattress. “You were so uptight at first.”

“I was not,” Herbert snapped. With his loafers off he laid back next to Dan, their legs hanging off the edge of the bed. He sighed and Dan rolled his head over to look at him. “I was just thinking about home.”

“You seemed anxious to go,” Dan said, watching him closely. “Was it that bad?”

“It’s nothing to do with you or them,” Herbert replied, casting his eyes towards the door at ‘them’. “It’s just that…nobody knew that I was here.”

“What?” Dan propped himself up on an elbow. “What do you mean?”

Herbert stayed on his back and folded his hands over his stomach, fingers knitted together. “I mean, every time you and I hang out I’ve told Niles I have chess practice or something.”

Dan frowned, trying to puzzle this out. “But…you’re not on the chess team.”

“Obviously. It was a convenient lie.”

“So, your family doesn’t know about me at all?”

“They do now,” Herbert sighed, his breath coming out in an aggravated puff. “The fact I’m staying the night is going to cause some problems.”

“Why’s that?” Dan asked.

“Because Niles is going to find it very interesting, that’s why.”

“Your driver? Why would he care?”

“It’s his job to care. He’s the one who follows me around everywhere and won’t leave me alone. I swear he keeps a little ledger of everything I do, every day.” He spat the words out bitterly, his mouth scrunched up with disdain.

This was the most Herbert had ever said about anything relating to his homelife and it was leaving Dan’s head spinning. All that he knew about Herbert’s personal life outside of school he’d picked up and pieced together from little scraps of information he’d occasionally drop into conversation. He knew Herbert’s family was rich—he’d dropped Herbert off at the opulent estate a couple of times, and had met the housekeeper, Colette on those few occasions. He knew the Wests were French-Canadian, explaining how Herbert spoke the language fluently. He knew Herbert did have parents, though he’d never seen them, and that was about it. Looking it over, it really wasn’t much. It surprised Dan that he felt he knew Herbert so well, so intimately, yet he lacked so much rudimentary knowledge about his life, like what his parents’ names were or what they did to afford that huge house.

He shook his head and pushed all of that aside, focussing on Niles, the nosey driver.

“O-kaaay. Why?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Herbert mumbled, sitting up. “It’s done now. I’ll deal with it later.”

Dan wanted to keep pressing but Herbert had that guarded look on his face that told him he wouldn’t be getting anything out of him any time soon. So, he left some clothes for Herbert to change into and went in search of the thin foam mattress he used for camping.

By the time he returned Herbert was stepping out of the bathroom, his hair still dripping, wearing Dan’s clothes. The sight of Herbert wearing anything of his always sent a pleasant sliver of warmth curling around Dan’s chest, and this was no exception. Herbert had pulled the drawstring of his sweatpants tight around his hips and rolled the cuffs a few times over his ankles. The t-shirt was baggy, exposing his collarbones and the crook of his neck. It was only in his clothes that Dan got to see this softer, casual version of Herbert, free of buttons, collars, and pleated pants. He always cherished those moments when he got them.

“Here we are,” he said, hefting the mattress into the room. “My humble bed for the night.”

Herbert peered at him over the rims of his glasses. “You’re not seriously sleeping on the floor, are you?”

“Where else would I sleep?” Dan asked, feigning ignorance, and grinned when Herbert continued to stare at him.

Herbert’s gaze told him he thought he was acting the fool. “Sleep outside in the rain then. I don’t care.” He threw back the covers and climbed into the bed with a huff.

“Nooo,” Dan whined, slithering along the bed. He ran his hand up Herbert’s leg over the covers until he found what he thought was his hip and held him there. Herbert had the blankets pulled up to his nose and glared up at Dan with flinty eyes. “I’ll get cold outside,” Dan pouted.

“Then freeze,” Herbert replied, his voice muffled. “I’ll take over the bed forever.”

“Not forever,” Dan lamented and flopped his full weight on top of Herbert, who let out a loud, “Oof!”

“You’re heavy,” Herbert complained, wiggling beneath him. “Get off.”

“I can’t,” Dan mumbled into Herbert’s hair. “I’m too cosy.”

He was hardly exaggerating. With the softness of the bed like a fluffy cloud, Herbert’s warm body, and the rain pattering against the window, he felt ready to sink into the mattress. The bed was becoming more and more like a gooey marshmallow, pulling Dan to the centre towards a truly deep sleep. But Herbert continued to struggle against him, kicking his legs and pushing at Dan’s chest until he finally relented and rolled off him with a sigh.

“I need to brush my teeth,” Herbert said, swinging his feet to the floor. “I don’t suppose you have a spare toothbrush?”

“Why?” Dan cracked an eye open to smirk at him. “Don’t wanna use mine? Afraid you’ll catch my germs?” He made a kissy face and Herbert scowled.

“I’ve kissed your mouth; I haven’t explored all the little crevices between each of your teeth.”

“Damn, sounds hot.”

“Shut up.”

Dan did manage to wrangle an extra toothbrush he’d gotten from his last visit to the dentist, and the two of them quickly brushed their teeth before returning to the bedroom. Dan gave the foam mattress a light kick as he passed it, following Herbert to his bed beneath the window.

“I had to take it in here,” Dan explained as Herbert peeled the covers back. “Questions might get asked with both of us in here and only one bed.”

“Yes, I pieced that deduction together myself.” Herbert slipped his glasses off and placed them on the bedside table. He wriggled over to make room for Dan then peered up at him. “We wouldn’t want any questions.”

“No, we wouldn’t,” Dan agreed, and flicked off the lamp. Darkness flooded the room and he fell into bed beside Herbert. He pulled the covers over them both and snuggled close, looping an arm around Herbert, and pulling him so they were flush together. “For the record,” he murmured against Herbert’s temple, “you didn’t behave badly. In fact you were on your best behaviour.”

“Oo, yippee,” Herbert droned, his breath ghosting over Dan’s collarbone. “Do I get a treat?”

“Sure,” Dan responded, and pulled back just far enough to duck down and kiss him. Dan ran his hand up and down Herbert’s arm and felt him shiver. It was only when his hand landed on Herbert’s waist that Herbert pulled back.

“I’m not having sex with you while your parents are downstairs,” Herbert said firmly.

Dan sputtered, blinking at Herbert’s stern expression. “I wasn’t gonna try anything! Geez, it was just a kiss.”

“It’s always just a kiss,” Herbert said mockingly, but he settled his head on Dan’s chest and laid still.

Dan sighed and carded his fingers through Herbert’s soft hair. Herbert was always raking his hands through it, so by the end of the day his hair would stick up in odd tufts. Dan likened them to duck tails. They softened up Herbert’s face, whose sharp features were usually cut in a severe expression. He liked them.

There was nothing severe about Herbert’s face when he was asleep. Already he was snoozing against Dan’s chest, his lips parted with his deep, relaxed breathes. Herbert was so alert when he was awake, it almost made sense he was the exact opposite when unconscious. When Herbert slept, he did so deeply, laying still as a rock, his mind a million miles away, dreaming of things he could never remember the next day.

Dan drank in the sight of Herbert, his cheek smooshed up where he was laying against him, before closing his eyes. The sound of the rain was all around him, droning against the roof and smattering along the windowpane. Dan had loved to fall asleep to rainfall ever since he was a kid, the noise soothing any jumbled thoughts in his head. The rain made his bed feel comfier and warmer, his room instantly a cocoon of cosiness against the cold and wet outside. That feeling was made tenfold with Herbert in his arms.

He kissed Herbert’s forehead, and buried his nose in his hair, breathing in the soapy scent of him. Sleep pulled at him more insistently than ever, and though Dan wanted to stay awake and enjoy the moment for longer, he couldn’t resist the sweet temptation of the dark forever and allowed himself to be pulled under.

There was a knocking in Dan’s head, pounding against his ears. He scrunched his eyes up, trying to stay in the pleasant bubble of sleep and comfort he was floating in, but the banging wouldn’t go away. It was only when he heard his name called that he realised the knocking wasn’t coming from inside his head, but at his door.

His eyes flew open as he registered his mom’s voice. “Dan? Are you and Herbert awake? I made pancakes!”

The doorknob jiggled and Dan’s senses blared in alarm. “One second, Mom!” he yelled and lashed out with his leg, shoving Herbert off the bed and onto the floor.

Herbert’s eyes flew open as he tumbled off the edge of the bed, taking half the blankets with him. He landed in a heap and yelped as his back thumped against the floor, the camping mattress doing little to cushion his fall.

This all happened in a matter of seconds, then the door was swinging open and Leanne was frowning into the room. She swivelled her gaze from Dan and his wide, crazed eyes on the bed, to Herbert sprawled out on the ground, and the jumble of blankets strung between them.

“Dan,” she said crossly, hands going to her hips. “You made Herbert sleep on the floor? That’s not very hospitable of you! Honestly, I thought I raised you to be a better host to your guests.”

Dan tried to gather his wits, but his head was still ringing, blood pounding in his ears at his sudden, rude awakening. Herbert was sitting up, rubbing at his elbow, and glaring in Dan’s general direction, his eyes unfocussed without his glasses.

“He’s horrible,” Herbert agreed, and Dan gave him a look.

Leanne clicked her tongue, still looking at him with disapproval. Dan couldn’t even defend himself. He couldn’t tell her that he hadn’t made Herbert sleep on the floor, because really, the two of them had been wrapped up in each other’s arms all night.

“Well, once you’re up, I’ve got pancakes waiting for you,” she said, before closing the door.

“Sorry,” Dan immediately said, turning to Herbert and offering a hand to help him up.

Herbert snatched his arm back and wobbled to his feet. “You should be! What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry. I panicked, okay?”

“Well, could you try and panic in a way that doesn’t hurt so much next time?”

Dan handed him his glasses and Herbert grumbled as he put them on. As Herbert changed back into his clothes, Dan sat on the edge of the bed, trying to catch his breath. His mom had been seconds away from seeing him and Herbert cuddled up together. What if she had seen them? How would she have reacted? Would she be horrified? Taken aback? She’d tell his dad, no matter what, and what then? Would he still be able to see Herbert, or would his parents forbid it? They’d never been strict or cared who he dated, but they might care if they found out Dan wasn’t who they thought he was.

The thoughts stewed in his mind, slowly dripping down his spine and pooling in an icy fist in the pit of his stomach. He was so cold. Maybe some remnants of the storm were clinging to the air, chilling him to the bone. Shivers wracked through him, and he tried rubbing his arms to warm him, but his hands were shaking too badly. He blinked rapidly at the floor, trying to focus, but his vision swam, the carpet blurring before his eyes.

“Dan.”

Dan started, Herbert’s voice snapping through the gloom clouding his brain. Herbert’s hand was on his shoulder, and he was frowning down at him with concern.

“Are you alright?”

Dan was caught in Herbert’s gaze for a moment, but just looking into his eyes cleared the fog that had settled over him. He sucked in a deep breath, his heartrate slowing to an acceptable beat. He smiled against the brittleness threatening to crack his façade, but there was no use making Herbert feel shitty too, so he held it in.

“I’m okay. Sorry.” He put his hand over Herbert’s and squeezed, then stood up. “Let’s go eat.”

They made their way downstairs, where Leanne was slipping pancakes onto plates. She looked up as they reached the landing and smiled brightly.

“Morning, boys! Herbert, did you want syrup or powdered sugar?”

“Sugar,” Herbert replied, taking a seat at the island bench.

Dan sat beside him—was he sitting too close? Was this a normal proximity straight guys sat next to their guy friends?—and grabbed a plate. As they ate, Scott came stomping down the stairs, dressed in his work uniform of a polo shirt and cargo shorts. He boomed a greeting and ruffled Dan’s hair as he passed into the kitchen. He swiped up a plate and made quick work of the stack of pancakes, drenched in maple syrup. If there was one skill Scott Cain had, it was his ability to inhale food.

“Tastes great, Hon,” he said and kissed Leanne on the cheek.

She squawked and swatted at his shoulder, wiping at the sticky residue. “Don’t you kiss me with those syrup lips!”

He made several kissy faces at her as he backpedalled towards the door, grabbing his keys as he went. He swung the door open and sang out a jolly goodbye, then he was gone, the door closing with a resounding bang behind him. Leanne shook her head with a fond smile and went about clearing up the dirty plates. Herbert watched all of this with a quizzical look on his face and Dan wondered what he was thinking.

When it was time for Herbert to go Leanne made a big fuss over him, telling him what a delight it was to have him and that he was welcome over any time. Herbert took all of this in with a few quiet nods and thanked her for having him. Dan stepped out onto the front porch with Herbert, the barrier of the front door giving them at least a little privacy from his mom. The lawn sparkled with dew, and the scent of fallen rain hung thick in the air. It was a beautiful morning, and on any other day Dan would’ve been able to appreciate it, but he was busy stewing in the emotions that had been plaguing him since he woke up.

Herbert sighed as he leaned against the railing. “Niles should be here in a few minutes. I’ll walk down to the corner and get him to pick me up from there.” He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, clearly not enthused at the thought of seeing the driver.

“I don’t want you to go,” Dan whispered.

Herbert whipped his head up to look at him, and Dan sighed, taking a tiny step closer to him. Even though they were out of sight of his mom, they were still out in the open. Anyone walking their dog or stepping outside to grab their paper could see them. The thought just made him feel even more rotten.

“You’ll see me at school in an hour,” Herbert said.

Dan just shook his head. “I know. I just…I don’t know.”

How could he put it into words? The deep yearning to push open that door and introduce Herbert as the person he loved, for his mom to know what they were to each other. He wanted to be able to treat Herbert the same way he had with all his past girlfriends, and the fact that he couldn’t, that they had to keep this thing between them a secret, struck him as incredibly unfair. The injustice of it all made him both intensely angry and miserable all at once.

Herbert tipped his head to the side and poked Dan’s cheek. “I’ll see you soon. Try not to implode until then.” He smiled crookedly. “Who’ll drive me around if you have a nervous breakdown?”

Dan swatted his hand away but snorted, nonetheless. “I’m not having any breakdowns. It just sucks that we can’t, y’know, be honest.”

Herbert shrugged. “The less they know, the more they’ll like me.”

The sad thing was, Dan couldn’t even argue.

He watched as Herbert turned and made his way, out the yard and down the street. He waved over his shoulder at Dan, before disappearing from view behind a hedge. Dan waved after him, the rock lodged in his chest feeling no lighter. He tried to shake his bad mood off, but it was harder to slot his love life and his homelife into two distinct boxes now that they had overlapped.

His only comfort was that Herbert had been right when saying he’d see him again very soon.

It was a few days after this that Herbert got in Dan’s car after school with a sigh. Dan, who’d been feeling pretty upbeat that day, took in Herbert’s weary expression with worry. Trying to guess the source of Herbert’s woes was always a practice in estimating. He could be downtrodden over teachers, other kids, or something completely random, like the ‘displeasing sound’ of trumpets. Dan, who knew better than to play this guessing game, waited for Herbert to speak.

“So,” Herbert said after a while, “it would seem you’ve been invited to come over for dinner.”

Dan blinked, this falling into the ‘unexpected’ category. “What? By your parents?”

“No,” Herbert answered with derision, rolling his eyes. “Neither of them care.”

"Then who does care?" Dan asked.

“My grandfather,” Herbert replied, glaring down at his knees. “Niles has worked for him for as long as I can remember. Even though he officially works for my father, he’s still loyal to the old man. All he does is watch me and report back to him. He’s the one behind all of this.” He looked sullenly at Dan. “It’ll be a drag but you’ll just have to sit down and make nice so Niles can observe you and tell grandfather that you’re not a delinquent.”

“I have to?” Dan laughed, but Herbert didn’t smile back. His face remained stony and locked in a grimace.

“If you don’t, he’ll just find some other way to spy on you. Best to just get it over with.” He sighed and reached gingerly for Dan’s hand. “Sorry.”

Dan reeled at the meekness in Herbert’s voice. It made all his trepidations melt away in the wake of his need to reassure Herbert. He grabbed his hand and rubbed it between his palms, kissing Herbert’s knuckles.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay. I’d love to come over for dinner.” He smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging way. “How bad could it be?”

He meant it as a joke, but Herbert looked at him with that same stoic face. It didn’t do wonders for Dan’s confidence.

The next night Dan pulled up in front of the West’s estate. They lived up a tall hill, their house situated at the end of a long, winding road, seemingly paved just for them. All the houses in that area were spread out, given the large amount of acreage on each plot of land. Dan wondered what they did with all that space. Build big underground bunkers to take cover from war with commies? Maybe they just had tennis courts. Multiple tennis courts. That seemed like a rich person thing.

He drove up to the gate and buzzed the intercom. A few seconds later a pretty, feminine voice, thick with a French accent crackled on the other end.

“Hello? West residence.”

He cleared his throat and replied, “Hi, Colette. It’s Dan.”

The housekeeper answered brightly, “Oh, Daniel, hello. Please come in.”

The speaker shut off and shortly after the gate slid open, the sound of steel grinding against shrieking in the air. Dan swallowed, his throat suddenly dry as he drove up the long, steep driveway. Neat lawns and hedges trimmed into elaborate shapes passed him on both sides. The house—which was more of a mansion, really—was a huge Victorian building of white beech, complete with high steeples and arched windows. The moon passed behind a spire, swathing Dan briefly in shadows and he felt a shiver run up his spine.

“Someone’s walking over your grave,” Herbert would’ve said.

Dan held onto that image of Herbert in his mind, steeling himself with the thought of Herbert’s wry smile. I can do this, he told himself. It’s just dinner.

He attempted to swallow his nerves as he parked by the front porch and got out of the car. He glanced at his reflection in the side mirror, patting down his hair and smoothing any wrinkles from his shirt. When his mom had caught sight of him slinking out the door she’d smiled knowingly and asked, “Got a date?”

Dan had frozen in the moment before sputtering out, “Uh, yeah,” and scampering out.

Now he rang the doorbell and stood in anxious waiting, threading his fingers together to keep from fidgeting. He didn’t have to wait long. There was the sound of thudding footsteps and Herbert’s voice yelling out, “I’ve got it!” and then the door was swinging open.

“You’re here. Good.” Herbert grabbed him by the hand and yanked him inside.

Dan barely had time to take in the opulent foyer before Herbert was ushering him towards the adjoining hall. He’d only actually been inside the West house a handful of times and all of them very briefly, but it still surprised him how grand the scale of the interior was. It was like a fairy-tale castle with its soaring ceilings and spiral staircase, leading up to a series of balconies ringing the second floor. The floor was polished marble, laid over with a woven cream carpet that matched the sheer drapes. A glass chandelier lit with a hundred tiny bulbs hung over the centre of the room, casting light into every corner.

Herbert huddled up by Dan’s side as they walked, muttering into his ear. “With luck, this’ll be over in no time. In, out, and done.”

“It’ll be fine,” Dan whispered back. “We’ve got this.”

He gave Herbert’s hand a squeeze before letting go and stepping apart as they entered the dining room. It was just as ornate as the entrance, though this room was furnished with a long mahogany table and dressed in red velvet. A fireplace blazed against the far wall, the heat of the flames making Dan sweat. Before Dan’s eyes could sweep any further, a woman rose from the table and approached them with open arms.

“Here’s my baby boy. Oh, and the guest of honour too. How exciting.”

The first thing Dan noticed about the woman who had to be Herbert’s mother was that she was stunningly beautiful. With her raven hair swept back in perfect victory rolls, and her smouldering eyes lined with black, she wouldn’t have looked out of place in a golden age Hollywood flick. Her lips, dress, and nails were all the same shade of rogue red, and when she smiled her cheeks didn’t crinkle at all. The slow, assessing gaze she swept up and down Dan made him squirm, but he didn’t move. He was pinned in place by her penetrating stare.

“Hello,” he forced himself to say. “N-Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she purred, tracing a finger along her jaw. “I’m sure you’ve just heard so much about me, but for introduction’s sake, my name is Theadora.”

“I’m Dan. Daniel,” he stammered, his tongue feeling thick and stupid in his mouth.

Theadora didn’t seem bothered by his sputtering. If anything, she just looked more amused. “Pleasure to have you, Daniel. Even if it was a little unexpected. But no matter! I’m just thrilled to finally be meeting one of Herbie’s friends. You’re almost as cute as he is.”

She clapped her hands over Herbert’s cheeks, and squished his face between her palms, jostling his head this way and that, as though ruffling the head of a dog. Herbert bucked out of her grip, his lip curled back in a vicious snarl, but Theadora just smiled as though this were all a fun game. The intense loathing Herbert regarded his mother with shocked Dan. He knew Herbert hated to be teased, but the heat of his glare looked hot enough to melt glass.

Theadora spun on her heel and threw her arms out at the long table. “Let’s sit, shall we? Colette should have the first course ready soon and Neville will be down, shortly.”

“Neville?” Dan asked Herbert out of the corner of his mouth as the two of them took their seats.

Herbert kept his glare fixed straight ahead. “The other one.”

‘The other one’ made his appearance moments later. He stumbled through the door, then quickly righted himself, adjusting his tie and smoothing down his hair. He gave a cursory little wave to the room before seating himself next to Theadora, across from Dan.

“Hello,” he greeted with a jerky nod. His voice was soft and reedy, coming out as though he were unsure if he’d said the correct thing. “You must be the boy from Herbert’s school. Nice to see you—or meet you, I suppose. I’m Neville, Herbert’s father.”

“Thank you so much for the introduction,” Herbert mumbled, pushing his fork back and forth across the table.

While Herbert shared nothing in common so far as looks went with his mother, this man was clearly Herbert’s father. They had the same upturned snub of a nose, the same small stature and doughy complexion. Neville wore a pair of half-moon spectacles, so it was clear where Herbert had also inherited his poor eyesight. But the resemblances stopped past a few physical traits. Not only did Neville have mousy brown hair and dull grey eyes, but he sat stooped over, shoulders hunched, as though trying to take up as little space as possible. This was the opposite of Herbert’s straight back and imposing air.  

It was all throwing Dan for a loop. The three Wests who sat before him were all members of the same family but seemingly had nothing in common.

As Colette emerged from the kitchen and went around the table, pouring water from a pitcher into each of their cups, Dan leaned over to Herbert and whispered to him.

“Where’s Niles? I can’t see him. Wasn’t the whole point of this thing for him to watch me and make sure I’m not a psycho or whatever?”

 “I don’t know,” Herbert answered, looking equally confused. “He left a little while ago but didn’t say where he was going. I thought he’d be back by now.”

As though summoned by Herbert’s words, there was the sound of the huge front door creaking open. A moment later a tall, older man in a simple black suit entered the dining room. Dan had only ever seen him briefly through the tinted windows of the sleek car he would drive Herbert around in, but he recognised the man to be the driver himself, Niles. Niles looked about the room, eyes briefly passing over Dan before he nodded to himself.

“Apologies for the delay, everyone,” he said.

“But where have you been, Niles?” Theadora asked, eying the driver as she set her chin down on her palm. “Picking up more sherry?”

“No, Ma’am,” he replied, his level voice giving nothing away. “I went to collect Neville’s father, Mr. West.”

The good humour instantly vanished from Theadora’s face. Neville cringed and Herbert went still beside Dan. Dan glanced about, taking in their varied expressions with mild alarm.

“What?” Theadora eventually let out, her voice which had previously been alluringly husky now sounding hoarse. “I wasn’t made aware of this. When was this planned?”

Niles raised both his eyebrows. “Why, this was always the plan, Mrs. West.”

“Yes, your hospitality is much appreciated” boomed a voice behind Niles and he quickly stepped aside to reveal and elderly man walking to the head of the table. He took off his bowler hat and wordlessly handed it and a walking stick to Niles, who took both items and scurried off. The man regarded Theadora with pursed lips. “It is my duty tonight to have dinner with you all, so let’s get to it.” He snapped his fingers and Colette put down the pitcher and hurried back to the kitchen.

“Irving,” Theadora greeted thinly. “What a…pleasant surprise.” She grasped her glass and Dan could see how tightly she was gripping it from her white knuckles.

“At least one of us will be pleased tonight,” he replied and took his seat.

Now that Dan was looking at Irving West, he realised how many portraits of the man were hung up around the house. There was a long row of framed photos along the hallway wall, descending in age of both the photo and the subject. Dan had recognised Herbert’s most recent school picture, and before that Neville, then Irving, then grainier black and white portraits of men Dan didn’t know. Older paternal relatives, he assumed.

Irving’s face was lined with wrinkles, the skin of his neck melting over his tight collar, but despite his age, his eyes were sharp and hawkish. His fine white hair, which had faded to the back of his head and left his forehead dotted with liver spots exposed, only accentuated his thick eyebrows and gaze that pierced out from the depths of his skull. He watched Herbert pushing his fork around and slammed his fist down on the tabletop, making both Dan and Neville jump.

“What is this?” he demanded. “This is how you dress for dinner?”

Herbert looked down at his mustard polo shirt, and Dan was suddenly very self-conscious of his own shirt. Had he ironed out all the wrinkles?

“It’s just a shirt,” Herbert mumbled.

Irving pressed his lips into a thin, hard line. “You look like a slob. More suited for shining shoes than sitting at a dinner table.” He jerked his head towards the door. “Go make yourself presentable.”

Herbert stared at him, his jaw clenched so hard Dan worried he’d shatter his teeth. For a moment Dan thought he would refuse and the tension rippling in the air would erupt, but Herbert simply stood and silently stalked away.

“And you’re getting a haircut tomorrow!” Irving yelled at his retreating back. He shook his head, his mouth curled back in a cruel line. “Niles, make the appointment. Honestly, is it so hard to just keep the boy looking respectable?”

He aimed this last barb at Herbert’s parents. Neville ducked his head but Theadora just drummed her fingers along her cup, her nails clacking shrilly against the glass. She raised her cup and looked toward the kitchen, where Colette had just emerged, pushing a tray lined with plates.

“I think I’ll have some wine,” Theadora commented, pushing her glass at Colette.

The table was silent as Colette made the rounds, depositing each dish, before quickly departing. The quail and roasted potatoes on Dan’s plate looked delicious but he had no appetite. He just sat mutely, trying not to itch or wipe his brow at the oppressive atmosphere. He could feel Irving’s eyes on him and was debating whether it would be better or worse to meet the old man’s eyes, when Herbert reappeared.

He had changed into a black suit, complete with a tie knotted around his throat. He’d smoothed down his hair, managing to contain some of the more audacious spikes flicking around his ears. His face was stony as he dropped into his seat beside Dan. He picked up his knife and fork and immediately set to cutting up his quail.

Irving observed him coolly. “Much better.” His eyes were on Dan then, pinning him to the spot. “Don’t you think so, Daniel?”

“Um, yeah, definitely,” Dan sputtered. All he could think about was that he hadn’t cut his hair in a while, mostly because Herbert seemed to enjoy running his fingers through it. Would Irving think him unrespectable? Was he failing the observation test?

“Tell me about your family,” Irving said, and it came out as more of a command than a question.

Dan obliged, nervously rattling off information about his parents. He told the West patriarch that his father owned a landscaping business, and his mother was a receptionist at a local dentist. Neville tried to chime in that he’d gotten a filling there once but one look from Irving silenced him. Dan had always thought his parents had perfectly good, respectable jobs, but sitting under Irving’s scrutiny had him wondering if their line of work was too pedestrian to be impressive in the company of all these riches.

“And what are your aspirations?” Irving asked over the rim of his glass. “You want to follow in your father’s footsteps? Take over his business?”

“Um, no,” Dan replied politely. “He takes me on some jobs with him sometimes, but I’d like to study medicine.” He caught Herbert glancing at him surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye. He cleared his throat and went on, “I’d like to be able to help people.”

“How noble of you,” Irving responded evenly, but something in the sharp gleam of his eye made Dan feel there was more to what he was thinking. “It sounds like the two of you have quite similar interests.”

Like boys, Dan’s mind supplied, and he quickly shushed it, worried that Irving would be able to read his mind and hear his thoughts clear as a bell.

“We have Biology together,” Herbert said dully. “It’s not so strange.”

“You weren’t always a little science bug,” Theadora spoke up. She’d been silently draining her glass of wine during Irving’s interrogation, but now she was smiling again, her smoky eyes trained on Herbert. “You used to be such a musical maestro.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Herbert shot back, his hackles instantly rising at his mother’s attention.

Theadora tipped her head to look at Dan. “Did you know he used to the play the piano? And he was so good too. All his instructors said he could go on to play concerts.”

“That was when I was a kid,” Herbert bit out. “And I only did it because you made me.”

“Yes,” she agreed, and placed a sorrowful hand over her chest. “And it broke your mama’s heart when you said you didn’t want to play anymore.”

“Because it was dumb and pointless.”

“Oh, Herbie, I wish you wouldn’t say such things. You used to play so wonderfully for me.”

“Go cry about it.”

“What a brute,” she tittered. She reached over and stroked Neville’s shoulder without taking her eyes off her son. “He must get it from your side of the family, Dear.”

Dan caught the brief look that passed between Theadora and Irving. They regarded each other silently as Dan struggled to swallow his quail. Without answer, Irving turned back to Herbert.

“Tu tiens toute ton idiotie d’elle,” he said, easily sliding into his native French.

Herbert rolled his jaw and replied just as smoothly, “Au moins je sais quand je suis insulté.”

Neville flinched at whatever they were saying and cast an anxious look at his wife. “Père, Herbert. S’il vous plait.”

Theadora looked at Dan with amusement and he got the impression that this random switching to French happened often. “We’re being left out, Daniel.”

“Oh, you don’t speak French?” he felt impelled to ask.

She shook her head, her dark curls tumbling over her shoulders. “No. Unlike Neville, I’m a poor, uncultured American.”

“Pauvre est correct,” Irving muttered under his breath.

The curl of Theadora’s mouth told Dan that though she didn’t understand what Irving had said, she knew it wasn’t positive.

“Are we done with twenty questions?” Herbert asked, reverting to English.

Irving huffed out a laugh, dabbing cranberry sauce from the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “What’s the matter? Am I irritating you? I’m merely taking an interest in your well-being. You’re only as good as the company you keep.” He directed this last comment at Dan, who felt cold beads of sweat dotting his brow.

Herbert stood up suddenly, his chair scraping back against the floorboards and almost tumbling to the ground. Dan had to lash out to catch it. “May I be excused?” His voice was dull and heavy as stones dropped into a still lake.

“May you be excused, what?” Irving snapped back.

Herbert ground his teeth, his nostrils flaring as he balled his hands up into fists by his side and spat, “May I be excused, Sir?”

Anger and hatred rolled off him in palpable waves so strong that Dan expected steam to start blowing out of his ears. He glanced wildly about the rest of the table, but the adults all stared at Herbert with mild reproach but not surprise.

Irving didn’t seem to mind this display of visceral rage from his grandson. He nodded and waved him away. “Go on then.”

Herbert stomped from the room, his footsteps falling like bombs against the floorboards. Dan scrambled to his feet, his heart crawling up his throat as he looked from the Wests to Herbert. The wrinkles on Irving’s cheeks pulled back into some semblance of a smile at Dan’s alarm and he gestured in the direction Herbert had stormed off in.

“You as well, Daniel. We can’t have him getting all upset.”

“Thank you,” Dan replied quickly, back-pedalling towards the doorway, and nodding to Theadora and Neville. He repeated, “Um, thank you. The food was great,” then turned and dashed away.

He held his breath until he was racing down the hallway, and far enough away that he was out of earshot, before releasing his lungs with a ragged sigh. Only once he was free did he truly realise how oppressive the air of that dining room was. Forever would be too soon for him to dine with the Wests again.

He passed through the entry room, glancing about for Herbert. He knew the way to his room but wondered if Herbert would’ve gone outside instead. He was pondering this, trying to get inside of Herbert’s head when he heard his voice call out to him in a hushed whisper.

“Dan.”

Dan turned at the sound of his name and saw Herbert almost hidden in the shadows. He jerked his head for Dan to follow then turned and disappeared down the hall. Dan went after him, his shoes squeaking against the marble floor. Herbert walked swiftly, turning down corner after corner before coming to an abrupt halt at an alcove. He slid into the bay window, and slowly lowered himself onto the bench seat. He kept his ramrod straight posture, staring out the tall panes of glass at the night sky. Dan sat beside him, watching him for any sign of that hot anger, but it had gone from his face, replaced with an impassive mask.

Dan waited for him to speak and eventually Herbert sighed through his nose. “Sorry.”

“What’re you apologising for?” Dan replied softly.

“For everything. All of that.”

“Eh. It wasn’t so bad.”

Herbert cut a glance at him and snorted. “You’re a terrible liar. It’s fine though. I don’t blame you.”

Dan shrugged, scooting slightly closer to him. “I mean, your grandpa's a little intense, but your parents seem nice enough.”

“Are you kidding?” Herbert scoffed. “They’re the worst. Well, Father’s a spineless worm but he’s harmless enough. Her though-“ That deep loathing dripped from his voice, making Dan shake his head in bewilderment.

“What is it with you and your mom?” Herbert’s expression told him to drop it but Dan pressed on, his own thoughts and observations quarrelling with Herbert’s signals. “She might be a little embarrassing but that’s just how moms are. They just love to embarrass you.”

“You don’t get it,” Herbert hissed. He tore away from Dan and rose to his feet, pacing back and forth in agitation. “She’s not like your mom. She doesn’t care. It’s all an act! Just a fun, little play she puts on when she feels like it.”

“Herbert.”

They both startled at the voice and spun around to see Niles standing a short distance away, framed by the archway. Dan froze but Niles seemingly didn’t care about their conversation. He just gestured at Dan to come forward.

“Mr. West would like to speak with you, Daniel. If that’s alright.”

Talking alone with Irving was about on par with diving into the Artic Ocean on Dan’s list of desires, but Niles was watching him closely. He was aware that he was still being ‘observed’ and needed to put on a good show. So, he swallowed his fear and stood up with a nod.

“Yeah, sure. That’s alright.”

“Very good.” Niles turned without further prompting and walked off, making Dan and Herbert race to follow him. He led them upstairs to a large double door. When he pushed it open and Herbert went to follow Dan Niles stuck an arm out to block him. “Just Daniel, Herbert.”

Herbert seized up and Dan could see the protests building on his tongue.

“It’s okay,” he rushed to say before Herbert could tell Niles to jump in a lake. He pushed away his trepidation and tried to smile reassuringly. “I don’t mind. Really.”

Herbert squinted at him, unconvinced, but Niles was opening the door and ushering Dan in. “We’ll be waiting for you out here.”

The last thing Dan saw before the door shut in his face were Herbert’s eyebrows bunching together in worry. A fist seized his guts and clenched tight. He wanted to rush to him and reassure him further, to hold his hand and tell him not to worry, that he could handle anything for him. But a wall of solid oak stood between them, and when Dan turned around he saw he was in some kind of sitting room.

Shelves stuffed with books rose from the floor to the ceiling. A large desk was pushed to the far wall, littered with papers and uncapped pens. In the centre a couple of armchairs and a chaise lounge were congregated around a fireplace. This was where Irving sat, smoking from a pipe, and watching him with those keen, hawkish eyes.

“You managed to appease him,” Irving commented. “Well done. Good to know you’ve got a tight leash on him.”

He gestured at the chair opposite him for Dan to sit. Dan did so gradually. Irving sat forward, shoulders hunched, elbows resting on his legs, and hands knitted between his knees, grasping his pipe. He wasn’t stooped over like an old man, bent with age; he was like a predatory cat, ready to spring on his prey in the blink of an eye. Dan faced him, schooling his posture and expression to exude calm, knowing that he had to mask any nerves. He was worried that, just like a prowling cougar, Irving could sniff out fear.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Dan asked.

“Want to get straight to the point, do you? Good, good.” Irving sat back and gestured to the wall above the fireplace. “That is my father. Herbert’s great-grandfather, and namesake.”

Dan followed Irving’s fingers and saw the large painted portrait, hung up on the wall. It was a waist-up oil painting of a man, his hand loosely grasping the lapel of his waistcoat. It was remarkable how much the two Herbert’s looked alike, but where Herbert was dark, this man was fair. His skin was alabaster white, his blonde hair neatly combed back, and a pair of blue eyes glinting behind his spectacles. Dan frowned at the portrait; on the surface the man looked sweet, almost cherubic, but there was something in the strokes of that brush that had created a cold visage, a cruel gleam in those piercing eyes.

“He had this very house commissioned,” Irving went on. He stood up and strolled to the foot of the fire, hands folded behind his back. “He was a great man, but he was shrouded in controversy. People would say all kinds of strange and disturbing things about him, especially after he disappeared.”

The phrasing and look on Irving’s face were enough to make Dan frown. “He disappeared? You mean he died?”

“Yes,” Irving murmured, a cloudy film descending on his eyes as he stared at the painting of his father. “Presumed dead but no trace of him was ever found. Colleagues of his proposed all kinds of preposterous theories, which were never proven. Still, the cloud of those words hung over our family for many years. I won’t have that cloud coming back, which is why it’s so important to keep Herbert on the right track.” He turned around and Dan was faced with both Irving and the cold gaze of the first Herbert West. “That boy is very gifted. But more than that, he’s made of the right stuff.” His voice shook with passion, and he held his fist up, tightly clenched around the air. “With the right guidance, he could go on to do great things. Greater than his father.”

He rolled his eyes with derision, making Dan wonder at the backwards state of all these men, and what Herbert was caught in the middle of.

“So, you want Herbert to be your successor?” Dan guessed. “To take over…whatever it is that you do?”

Irving chuckled at this, lowering his hand back to his side. “It doesn’t surprise me that Herbert never went into the specifics of the family business. Nothing too exciting for him, I suppose. West Enterprises has its hands in many different baskets, so to speak. We own land all over the world, manufacture medical supplies for hospitals, and have shares in various other endeavours.” He took another puff on his pipe and slowly blew out the smoke in a languorous stream. “To answer your question, no. I’m not concerned with Herbert inheriting ownership of the company. His father, though he’s a weakling, is a perfectly acceptable pencil-pusher. No. I’m more concerned with Herbert staying focused on studying. As I said, he has a lot of potential, but it’s important his attention doesn’t start to stray. Idleness and that boy are a dangerous combination.”

Dan remained seated, listening silently to all of this. He wasn’t sure if Irving wanted to ask him anything or if he just wanted Dan to hear what he had to say. Either way, he was starting to wonder what the point of this little interview was, if not for Irving to learn anything about him.

“You might remember he didn’t begin his high school career here,” Irving said, rolling his pipe in his hand.

“Yeah, I know,” Dan replied. “He went to a private school beforehand.”

“Do you know why he left that school?” Irving asked.

“He never mentioned it.”

“For good reason. He was expelled. He was accused of starting a fire in the gymnasium. The building almost burnt to the ground. It was only my intervention that stopped the authorities from getting involved.”

“What?” Dan reeled back, this sudden onslaught of information pummelling him back against the chair.

“Hm, I suspected he would’ve left that little nugget of information out of conversation,” Irving mused, smirking around the mouth of the pipe.

“I don’t understand,” Dan mumbled at his knees.

Irving shrugged. “He’s always been a bit troubled.”

“No, I mean-“ Dan shook his head and braved to look Irving in the eye. “I don’t understand why you’re telling me all this.”

Surprise flitted across the old man’s face. He sat back down across from Dan, pursing his lips as he looked him over from head to toe. “That doesn’t bother you then?”

Dan rubbed at the back of his neck and shrugged. In truth, he didn’t know what to think. He wanted to ask Herbert a million questions about this fire, about the great-grandfather he shared a name with, and all the mystery surrounding him. But he pushed all of that aside to focus on the words being presented to him.

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s shocking but that’s all, really.”

Irving clicked his tongue, smiling a sardonic smile. “You don’t scare easy, huh?”

“Herbert doesn’t scare me,” Dan answered honestly.

“I see,” Irving murmured. He seemed to make a decision and clapped his hands, rubbing them together. “Let’s cut to the chase then, shall we? I’m not concerned with the…nature of your relationship. Though, judging by the fact that he tried to keep it from me, I have my assumptions.”

Dan went still, coldness sweeping through him from the back of his head to the pit of his stomach. His mouth cracked open, perhaps to speak, perhaps to just try and breath through his constricting throat, but he only wheezed against the panic clawing up his tongue.

Irving glanced at him and appeared to notice his dread, making him huff a laugh. “It’s good that you’re afraid. Means you have sense. So, listen closely.” He leaned forward, smoke drifting from his mouth as he spoke through thin lips. “If you stay away from him, I’ll give you money. More than you’d ever make helping your dad mow lawns.”

Dan tried to swallow but his mouth was too dry. When he spoke his voice came out in a croak, “And if I don’t?”

Irving didn’t falter as he said, “Then I’ll continue to keep an eye on you. But I’ll tell you this: should Herbert get distracted again, falter and have an incident like he did at his last school…Well, your mother might find herself being made redundant. Despite his past success, your father might struggle to ever book a job again.”

Dan’s mouth fell open in shock. He’d always thought these kinds of threats only happened in mobster movies, not the suburbs. “You’re threatening me?”

“Not at all,” Irving replied, not moving a muscle. “I’m simply reminding you of the unfortunate possibilities that lurk about in this economic market. It’d be a shame if two honest, hard-working people like your parents ran into hardship.” He stood up and walked over to the fireplace, tapping dry ashes from the mouth of his pipe into the hearth. He didn’t look at Dan as he said, “That will be all. Thank you for your time, Daniel. I do hope you enjoyed your dinner.”

Dan ran from the room, leaving Irving to stare at the portrait of his father. He slammed the door behind him and slumped against the wall, dragging in breaths to try and soothe his heart, pounding like a jack hammer against his ribs. It took him a moment to stop shaking and realise that both Niles and Herbert were gone. He took off, not pausing to think, just letting his feet take him to Herbert’s room.

When he ripped the door open, he found Herbert sitting on his bed, angrily tugging his shiny dress shoes off. His head whipped up at the sound of Dan’s entry and the next moment he was on his feet, reaching for him. Dan gladly fell into his open arms, sagging with relief against Herbert.

“Sorry I didn’t wait for you,” Herbert said. “Niles made me leave. Probably worried I’d overhear something.” He pulled back, hands clamped on Dan’s shoulders, and squinted into his eyes. “What’d he say?”

“A lot of stuff,” Dan sighed. “Something about your great-grandfather, then some stuff about your old school- Did you really start a fire?”

Herbert pursed his lips. “It was an accident. I just wanted to do an experiment, but they wouldn’t let me use the lab unsupervised.”

 Dan raised an eyebrow. “So, what? You lit the gym on fire to get back at them?”

“Of course not. That’s ridiculous. I stole what I needed and tried to do it in the gym instead. The results were…surprisingly flammable.”

“Oh, my god.” Dan scoffed a laugh and shook his head. It was almost enough to quell the nausea churning in his stomach. “Herbert, I think he knows about us…”

“Oh,” Herbert said. Dan tried to read into that ‘Oh’, but Herbert’s face was blank. “He said that?”

“He implied it. I don’t know. He tried to offer me money to stay away from you.”

“That bastard,” Herbert spat under his breath.

Dan would’ve started pacing if Herbert weren’t still holding his shoulders, keeping him in one spot. “I don’t get it though. If he wants me to stay away why not just threaten to tell my parents?”

“You don’t know the old coot,” Herbert answered. “He’s constantly playing this game with me. Trying to keep me in line but not pushing so hard that I’ll tell him to jump off a bridge. I can play by the rules but even I have limits.” He stroked one hand up Dan’s neck to tenderly cup his cheek. He brushed his thumb just under Dan’s eye and said softly, “And he seems to know that you’re that limit, Dan. If you chose to get away from me for money, that’d be one thing-”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Dan cut in firmly. Even against the cold and the sickness, he knew that he couldn’t be persuaded from Herbert’s side by something as inconsequential as money.

“I know,” Herbert said, his thumb moving in slow, small circles on Dan’s cheek. “But if you chose money over me, he knows I couldn’t do anything about that. But to out you to your parents and ruin your life? That’s not something you’re choosing. So, he knows I couldn’t stand for that, and he can’t have me ‘acting out.’” He cocked his head to the side. “Am I making sense?”

“Yes,” Dan assured him, his hands going to Herbert’s waist. “I’d never choose to leave you.”

“Good,” Herbert whispered, leaning into Dan’s pull.

Dan’s eyes fell shut as they kissed. He sighed against Herbert’s mouth, the shape of which was so familiar to him now that he felt he could’ve moulded a perfect replica of Herbert’s lips from clay. He didn’t think that a kiss could make all of his worries disappear, but it came close.

That was, until he heard the door swing open and someone sucked in a gasp.

His eyes flew open, and he wrenched himself away from Herbert, staggering back. It was Theadora standing in the doorway, gripping the frame with her sharp, manicured fingers. Her dark eyes were wide, bouncing between the two of them, her cheeks red with blush and something else. Possibly the wine she’d been gulping down at dinner. Dan expected her to look shocked, furious, or some combination of the two, but when she looked at Herbert, triumph seemed to glow in her eyes.

“I knew it,” she whispered.

“Mrs. West-“ Dan began but Theadora pushed past him.

She threw out her arms and descended on Herbert, who tried to step away, but she caught him, her hand gripping the back of his head and pushing his face into her neck. “It’s okay, Herbie. Mommy still loves you. I’ll keep your secret safe. You-“

“Get off!” Herbert shrieked, shoving her away.

She stumbled back, the heel of her stiletto catching on the edge of the carpet and almost sending her plummeting to the ground. She whipped up to look at him, confusion and hurt plain on her pretty face.

Herbert hugged his arms, eying her with open disgust. “Just keep away from me!”

The hurt melted off Theadora’s face, replaced with a tight-lipped anger. She strode across the room and before Dan knew what was happening, she raised her hand up and struck Herbert across the face. He gasped at the loud smack of her palm on Herbert’s cheek. His head bucked to the side at the force of her blow, knocking his glasses askew.

“How dare you!” Theadora panted in a breathless rage. Her exquisite beauty had morphed, her whole face contorted with an ire to equal that of her son’s. “You ungrateful child! Do you know how many boys like you would kill to have a mother like me? To do everything for you the way I do? And how do you repay me? By turning your nose up at me.” She lowered her hand, but her body still shook with emotion.

Dan was frozen, rooted to the spot as he watched this exchange. He was helpless; caught in the grip of panic at being discovered, afraid to move at all lest that draw Theadora’s attention back to him. Herbert remained still, keeping his face turned away but Dan could see the stiffness in his jaw.

“I wish I never had you,” Theadora spat. She turned on her heel and in moments was gone from the room, slamming the door behind her so hard it shook on its hinges.

As soon as she left the spell binding Dan’s feet to the floor vanished and he raced across the room to Herbert.

“Oh, my god. Herbert, are you okay?”

He cradled Herbert’s face in one hand and steered his head back around. Herbert let himself be led. He reached up to readjust his glasses and stared numbly at Dan’s chest.

“I hate her,” he said plainly. “I’ll never forgive her for doing that in front of you.”

“Come on,” Dan murmured, pulling him by the arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

They fled down the stairs and out of the house. The only person they passed in the halls was Niles, who coolly observed them racing by, hand-in-hand, but did nothing to try to stop them. Dan didn’t care if he told Irving, all he cared about was getting Herbert out of that house. Only when they were in his car and tearing through the gates did he let out his breath. The smaller the West estate got in his rear-view mirror, the more relaxed he felt.

Herbert sat silently in the passenger seat, the red mark on his cheek blooming brighter by the minute.

“We can stay at my place tonight,” Dan told him. “My parents won’t care. They’ll be happy to have you. Fuck all of them, right?”

“So vulgar,” Herbert mumbled, and the stony way he said it shredded at Dan’s heart.

“I can’t believe she hit you,” Dan said, unable to blink the memory of Theadora’s vengeful face from his mind.

Herbert shrugged and leaned his chin on his hand as he stared out the window. “She puts up a good act, but that’s all it’s ever been: an act.”

He launched into a methodical history of his mother’s relationship with the rest of his family, starting with her meeting Neville while he was on a business trip with Irving in Washington. He was convinced Theadora only wanted him for the dollar signs she saw hanging over his gawky head. They became engaged, but Irving would only agree to the marriage on the condition of them signing a prenup. This prevented her from divorcing Neville and leaving with a considerable settlement, instead forcing her to live by Irving’s rules if she wanted to keep her new lavish lifestyle.

When she became pregnant Irving had insisted on the name Herbert. Despite Theadora’s objections, Neville agreed to it. Her only consolation prize with sacrificing her son’s name was a trip to Spain, funded by Irving, as everything in her life was. Herbert recounted his earliest memories of watching strange men leaving from his mother’s bedroom. Occasionally they would see him hiding behind the balusters or between curtains and pat him on the head on their way out, smelling of Theadora’s perfume.

“The only reason she put me in piano lessons in the first place was to get me out of the way while she was whoring her way through the neighbourhood,” Herbert muttered. “When she had her high-class friends over, she’d trot me out and play the part of the devoted mother, but it was never real.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan said, reaching over to squeeze Herbert’s hand.

“Don’t be,” he replied. “It’s not like I care.”

“I would.”

“Well, I don’t. I guess I’m just more cold-blooded than you.”

“As if. You’re just better at hiding stuff.”

Herbert frowned at him. “What am I hiding?”

Dan couldn’t think of a way to tell Herbert it was obvious that his mother’s behaviour had clearly affected him without upsetting him. So, he just kept holding his hand until they arrived at his house.

As Dan had predicted, Leanne and Scott were perfectly amicable to Herbert’s sudden arrival. They either didn’t notice or pointedly ignored the large red handprint on Herbert’s face. Dan made up some story about running into Herbert while he’d been out and his parents seemed to buy it, or at the very least they didn’t press him further about it. Leanne sternly told Dan that he had better not make Herbert sleep on the floor again, and only after he’d promised he wouldn’t, did she let them go. Dan still had to drag the foam mattress into his room, but it lay forgotten on the floor as he and Herbert flicked off the lights and crawled into bed.

There was no rain on this occasion, but they still huddled close under the covers, Dan holding Herbert to his chest and stroking his hair.

“Sorry my family are ghouls,” Herbert said in the dark

Despite everything that had happened that night, Dan laughed. “It’s not your fault. You can’t choose family.”

“Unfortunately not."

“Now, this is the part where you say something cute like, ‘But I’m happy I chose you.’”

Herbert swatted his chest. “You can’t feed me my romantic lines. I like to improvise.”

“Oh, right, sorry. ‘Cause you’re always saying the most swoony stuff anyway,” Dan hummed, smiling.

“I think them. They’re all up here,” Herbert said, tapping his head. “I can’t say it all or you’d get some kinda inflated ego.”

“Maybe I want an inflated ego.”

“Maybe I want you to be quiet so I can sleep.”

Dan laughed but complied, and soon Herbert was softly snoring. Dan kissed the top of his head, his brain sluggishly flashing through all the day’s events before he too was pulled into unconsciousness. His last thought before he yielded to sleep was that he hoped they wouldn’t cut Herbert’s hair too short.

It was a few days later when the two of them wandered into a music shop after school. A man in his thirties with a long mop of hair stood behind the counter, eyes glued to the little T.V playing ABBA music videos. Dan was flicking through records when he noticed Herbert had drifted over to the instruments section, his eyes roaming over drum kits and guitars. He walked up behind him, watching Herbert watching the street piano pushed back against the far wall, and he hummed.

“Did you really learn to play the piano?” Dan asked, half teasing.

“Yes, I did. And I’ll have you know I was quite good at it,” Herbert replied primly. “Even if it was a stupid waste of time.”

“Play me something then,” Dan said. He leaned against the piano and rested his chin over his folded hands.

Herbert looked back and forth between Dan and the piano, appearing to weigh up his options. He relented at a pout from Dan and sat himself on the stool, cracking his knuckles.

“It’s been a while, so if it sounds bad, tough luck,” Herbert warned.

“I’ll keep that in mind as I judge,” Dan told him, laughing at Herbert’s answering scowl.

Herbert turned his attention to the piano. His fingers hovered over the keys for a moment before he let them fall and began to play. The first few notes were stilted, but Herbert soon fell into a flow, playing smoothly. It was a melody Dan didn’t recognise, some classical song from the brain of a European composer he couldn’t name, but it was dreamy to his ears. Herbert’s face was screwed up with concentration as his fingers danced along the ivory keys. Soon Dan couldn’t hear the T.V anymore, his senses wrapped up in Herbert’s drifting music.

Herbert pulled his hands back abruptly, cutting off the music. He huffed and flapped a hand at the piano. “It was something like that. I can’t remember the rest.”

“That was good,” Dan told him, still reeling from this hidden talent he’d only found out about days before. “I’m kinda sad you don’t play anymore.”

“There are far better pianists in the world,” Herbert assured him. “No one will miss my musical exploits.”

“I will,” Dan lamented, and Herbert rolled his eyes with a laugh.

“You’re an idiot.”

Dan would gladly be an idiot if it made Herbert laugh.