[Xander]

I'm back.

Yeah, it's been a couple of years since you've heard from me but at least you know you're not gonna be disappointed when you do. Chip says I've been getting good at telling bedtime stories. Naturally, the only person in the household who actually thinks that and asks for more is Miki, who, by now, has started his first year in Rivendell. Even my husband fell asleep in the middle of what I thought was an epic recount of a volleyball match our team played earlier that day. He wouldn't stop apologizing the next day but frankly, I wasn't really that bothered. Age was a factor and we both knew the numbers was going to catch up one day.

I say all that but you know me; I wasn't going to give up a free pass of Chip doing me a nice little favor in return. Sometimes, angels serve themselves up on a silver platter. Mine comes with strawberries on the side.

Story for another day.

The one you're about to hear needs some context. Atlas has been having the time of his life in university. Or at least that's what he tells me. Chip hears a different version. Stuff about missing home and his cooking and whatnot but no shit, the boy's been having a blast. He moved in with a couple of other creator friends of his—artists, writers, animators—and comes home every month or so only because Chip would start bugging me to drive up state and his threshold was an accurate four weeks.

Atlas did not like the idea of having Chip pop over for a spot check. I say that because the place was practically a gay sex paradise of manuscripts, storyboards, hand-drawn panels of rated content the last (and only) time I was invited. Only to help out with the furniture. Why his housemates started burying their noses in sketchbooks or digital tablets the moment I arrived, I wasn't gonna guess.

Apparently, they'd asked Atlas to have me over more often. Needless to say, he wasn't up for it.

Anyway, two weeks ago, the boy's birthday was coming up and I don't need to be explaining why Chip was all excited to be carrying out the whole angel surprise plan. Mostly involving the whole family driving up state with presents and food and his signature strawberry shortcake to surprise the fuck outta Atlas.

Here's how it went.

__________

"It's a drug bust," I said over the phone one evening, out on the third-floor balcony next to our bedroom. Chip was downstairs, busy with the new stir-fried eggplant recipe he saw on Julian's blog the other day. "You gotta come out of it clean."

"I can't, Xander." Atlas had me on speaker. He sounded far and I could hear the rapid clicking of a mouse. Gaming, then. "You've seen the place. There's gay shit everywhere. We just had a publisher ship over the first batch of original works. I've got six boxes of my artbook collection in the hallway."

"Yeah well you can hide them under the bed or something, right? Easy." I was a bad parent. But over the years, I'd somehow acquired the skill of knowing exactly what the kid was doing five seconds into a phone call. Not even FaceTime.

"You're assuming there's space under the bed. Which isn't wrong now but that's where all the hardcore stuff is going if we're doing the drug bust thing."

"... you mean the artbooks aren't hardcore enough for your fans?" I paused.

"Eh."

I sighed, glancing at the clock. Angel was going to be done with dinner prep anytime soon. "Look, if you think Chip's going to give up on this birthday surprise thing just because I say so, you're—"

Right on time. I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs and I for a good, uncharacteristic, long pause, said nothing. The feet stopped.

There's one thing I gotta admit here; spending years with an angel for a husband inevitably led to some deterioration of sinning powers. For some reason, I'd lost my lying spark. Yeah, that's right—I was getting worse at lying by the fucking second.

I recovered from the blank by launching into some blow-by-blow explanation of how a jump float serve worked, like I was speaking to an assistant coach or team captain. The footsteps resumed and soon, I saw him coming up the stairs and onto the landing with a pile of neatly folded laundry in his arms.

I took over, continuing with the shitload of nonsense I was talking about and sandwiching the phone between my shoulder and my ear.

"Xander. I don't speak sports. There's nothing I... oh. Chip's there isn't he."

"Yeah. It's about minimizing the rotation on contact. As long as you pull off a clean one, that should mess up their formation on the receive."

"Alright alright. I'll make sure it's clean. But you gotta give me at least till three o'clock in the afternoon 'cuz like we have a meeting in the morning and the storyboarding comes right after." I was about to agree and then have him get off the phone before I start making mistakes when he launched into a list of requests. "Oh, and wear that top you wore the last time you came over. And uh... if Chip could, like... wear that white button down that's a little sheer... you know that one? You love that one, of course you know it. If you could get him to wear this choker I'm sending over, it's a win-win. The men-wearing-chokers trend going on is the best one in a long time."

"You just love making my life hard, don't you." My tone of voice completely gave way until I quickly cleared my throat (my husband had glanced over with a look of concern) and ended the call with a stiff but professional goodbye. This all happened while Chip and I were transferring folded laundry into respective clothes drawers.

"Dinner's ready," he looked over with the very same eyes of an angel, complete with a smile. "You must be hungry after a long day." He seemed a little expectant, then, gaze lingering on mine for a moment longer than usual. Waiting for a story.

"Always hungry. You know that," I pulled him in for a hug, somewhat dodging the eyes I knew I would not be able to resist. Reason being: I had no story. No explanation. Only the fact that I'd just tipped my eldest kid off about his surprise birthday party so that my husband doesn't walk into a room of two men going at it all night. Two men who also very coincidentally looked like him and his husband. The husband is me. I'm the husband.

I was getting ready to leave the room and head downstairs for dinner when I felt a tug on the back of my shirt. If you haven't noticed, age did not stop Chip from doing the cute. Imagine being around the human version of a baby bunny and having to resist the urge to cuddle it all day.

"A-aren't you going to tell me who you were talking to...?" He sounded serious, with his fingers curled up raised to his lips, as though he was about to cry. Instantly, I had him back in my arms.

"I... can't tell you, because it's... it's just a word of honor." I said honestly. "It's nothing, I promise. But if you'd like, you can have my phone for a day. Or go through whatever. My inbox, messages, call history, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, you can look at all that. Hell, I'd let you check my search history too."

He poked my abs, expression doing a quick one-eighty in a heartbeat. "Hehe. I wasn't being serious, silly."

"Right." Internal sigh of relief. He's gotten real good at this, if you haven't noticed. "But that's because you know I'd cheat on you only if the third party was... you. Does that make any sense?"

"You know Xan, your jokes get less funny with age," he looked up from my chest, hiding his signature 'hehe' smile this time before burying his head in my arms again. "Love you."

I raised a finger in warning. "Payback time later tonight."

He blushed. See, he knows what that means now. Character development.

We headed down for dinner, calling the kids along the way and eventually gathering at the table filled with Chinese-style dishes and bowls of rice. Chip was really into the stir-fry technique recently.

"Everyone, everyone! I have super super exciting news." He got to it as soon as we were a couple of spoonfuls into our rice and just from the look in his eyes, I knew what was coming. "So, so, do we all know what's happening next week?"

"Atllie's birthday!" Miki was my husband's number one enthusiast. I was, too, but just not in the question-answer aspect; that, I admit losing to.

"Yes! It's Atllie's birthday next week and this is the first time he's going to be spending his birthday away from home. So, so, so... your father and I were discussing, and, we thought," actually, he came up with the whole thing but Chip loves sharing the parental credit, "that it would be amazing if we surprised him at his apartment with presents and and and food and cake!"

Miki applauded. Rory had a grain of rice stuck to her chin. I tossed her a box of tissue. She caught it.

"Wait, but, it's on a Saturday, right?" She frowned at the imaginary calendar in front of her. "I have baseball practice..."

"O-oh right," Chip's shoulders sunk and I could see the gears in his head giving the birthday surprise a second thought as soon as Rory raised an objection. He knew exactly how much she loved extra practice every weekend. It was the only time they actually got to go down to a baseball field. The school didn't have one, so it had to be booked at community stadiums nearby. The club was student-initiated, co-headed by Rory.

I was about to send the girl into outer space with a look but she, well-raised and automatic, qualified her statement by saying that someone else could take her position just this once. "Atlas better owe me big time after this one."

Naturally, Chip was moved to tears. Almost. You get the gist.

"Aw Rory!" He side-hugged her. "You're the best big big sister in the whole entire world." Even Rory was no exception to the powers of an angel. She returned the hug.

"So what are we getting him?" I asked; not just because, but with an actual intention to direct the conversation somewhere. Previously, he'd landed Chip and I a two-night stay in some high-end hotel suite free-of-charge, only because he'd featured the building in one of his specials. Both Atlas and I knew some reward was due because of this. And it had to be a big ticket item.

"I was thinking of the new iPad. And the new gen pencil thing too, for note-taking. It's good for the art stuff he does but I've been noticing a couple of students using it in class and since he's in college, you know. He's probably gonna get a lot of wear out of it." Clearly, I hadn't lost touch in this aspect of persuasion.

Chip was decently convinced. "Ouwuo that sounds very neat, actually."

"But that's also unfair unless I'm getting a new bat for my birthday," Rory couldn't resist adding.

"I think the iPad is a good idea," Miki did me proud by chipping in. And then in the next sentence, proceeded to undo all my hard work. "A-although I was going to suggest a nice Kindle. I've always thought Atllie would enjoy a good book. He doesn't seem to like the physical copies like me though, so... I just thought maybe the digital ones would've suited his tastes instead. It would be nice to cuddle up on a rainy day with a cup of tea and a Kindle while he's far away from home..."

Ah fuck he's an intellectual. I can't beat that. And just like that, I'd lost to our youngest in a matter of seconds and insisting on the iPad would've just made it all more sus than usual because, frankly speaking, my suggestion was a whole lot more costly than Miki's. Plus, the little one was somehow always the best at convincing Chip and if anything, being the angel's husband for nearly all my life has taught me one thing: that Miki was highly irresistible.

This also probably explains the crazy buzzing of his phone every morning in the car on the way to school, back home, and even during homework hours. Someone was eyeing him as prey and needless to say, I was on guard. But that's a story for another day.

"That's it then, we're getting him a Kindle!" Chip decided with a cute little gesture he learnt recently from a Japanese animated tv series we've been watching (recommended by Rory); tiny fist landing in an open palm. "I'll bake a cake of course. The usual. O-oh and some nice little desserts and homemade snacks for his housemates too. That would be nice."

That was enough to appease everyone, including Rory because a Kindle was within her expectations of a reasonable gift and because Miki had suggested it. I tried to hint at a specific timing for the surprise.

"I could help out in the morning," was my way of keeping an eye on him. Also because my husband in the kitchen was always a view I wouldn't miss for anything else in the world. "We're leaving in the afternoon, right? Four's a good time to arrive."

There was a general consensus with the timing, which was probably the only thing that went according to plan. Everything else, I relayed to Atlas in a text later that evening.

*

I pulled up a couple of houses down Atlas' shared one, parking the car in a nice empty slot two minutes away. This was everyone else's first time in the kid's university village and naturally, the sorority-fraternity-fancy-shitass architecture thing all around had their eyes wider than saucers.

We gathered the goodies, food and presents and started for the gate I'd pointed out earlier on.

"Xan," my husband saw the need to whisper. For some cute reason. "The, um, the allowance we gave Atllie. I-It's enough for all this?"

I understood where he was coming from. The place looked like a sorority house. It was that big.

"His friend got them a good deal, so." I made something up on the fly. He nodded carefully, hugging the cakebox while I had the other bags of goodies in my arms. Rory had the wrapped-up Kindle box in hers.

"Wow... its so cool. I'm glad he's having fun in college." I could hear the awe in his voice. We were nearing the gate when he looked up at me with curious eyes. "Did you have fun? At yours, I mean."

I laughed. "Don't remember much of it, really. It wasn't... important. I was there for the degree and that was kinda it."

Chip reached up to pat my head; that's also the cue for me to duck so that he could. We stopped in front of the iron gates, taking in the front yard and luxurious outdoor furniture all decked out on the patio.

"Are we, um, supposed to ring the bell?" Miki looked around, searching for a button. There was none.

"I'll give him a call." I said as though I hadn't been the one who tipped him off just as we were leaving the house.

A couple of rings in, he picked up and the act officially began. I was telling him to get the door and there he was, coming down the front steps with acting skills that rivaled that of a kindergarten teacher trying to hype the kids up for tasty vegetables. Fortunately, Chip was the kind to put complete faith in the kids. He saw nothing wrong with Atlas' act of surprise.

At least it was enough to convince the little ones. Passable.

"What are you guys doing here?" He exclaimed. And just by using that word, you'd know exactly how stiff he was looking and sounding. Chip and Miki burst into a promptly planned 'Surprise!' and 'Happy birthday'.

Only Rory caught on. See, good to know I trained her well.

"You don't look very—"

"Wao, is that cake? You guys are the best." If there was an Oscar for worst actor or best bad acting, our eldest would've had that one in the bag. He reached for the cake box to lighten Chip's load and then lead us into the foyer. Yeah you heard that right. A foyer.

"We brought some snacks for you to share with your housemates." Miki said whilst admiring the décor and checkered marble flooring, balancing the boxes of mini tarts and eclairs in his arms. "Maybe we could light candles and you could make your birthday wish together with everyone!"

Right. So I had warned him about such a possibility but both of us were somewhat hoping for a private celebration that preferably did not involve further sinful parties like his housemates. Which, he claimed, were grandmasters of gay romance. How that title even came about, I did not want to know.

"U-uh." I saw him visibly pause for a second, and then, to avoid awkward silence and increased suspicion, added that they were probably busy studying for tests and assignments. Atlas caught on and nodded blindly, mumbling something about leaving the celebration for later tonight when his housemates were home.

Plans were ruined when Rory, trained far too well by yours truly, spotted a couple of his housemates peering down at us from the second-floor railings. How and why the hell she was this good at figuring things out, I was both proud and fucking appalled. If only she was this good at math.

"Aren't those your housemates?" She said to Atlas, pointing upstairs. The little heads disappeared into hiding.

Atlas seemed to know they were going to be there for some reason. Must've been interested in the real versions of his characters. He sighed, exasperated. "I'll just... go see who's free right now."

He made his way upstairs after leaving the cake box on the dining table next to the living room, and the four of us took that as our cue to stay and get the goodies and food set up. Of course, Chip and Miki got right to it. Rory was the only one staring at me with a raised brow. I tried to avoid her gaze.

"D-did you see the chandelier, Miki?" "The brass finish of the balustrade in the lobby looked like it was out of a movie! I'm so envious... I can't wait to go to university." "But but I'd be so lonely when you do!" "O-oh no, I'll definitely visit every weekend. I promise!"

I let them gush over the décor and interior design of Atlas' place, far too luxurious for a bunch of ordinary college students getting by. Plus, he was 'supposedly' on a student loan for his college fees because there was simply no way either of us could spin a legitimate story of where he'd amassed that shitload of funds for education. I busied myself by laying out the mini sandwiches.

All was going decently well—no further signs of danger—until Atlas returned with his housemates: a group of seven girls.

Each one of them filtered into the living room in giggles and waves, gathering around the table of desserts and pastries. Some of them made a gesture of greeting that I swore would've given Atlas away had Chip been paying attention to their eyes that were practically fixed on that choker he was wearing. There must've been something about rolled-up sleeves on me that they found useful as study material too.

Eventually, I wouldn't be surprised if they showed some interest in Miki, mainly because I was sure Atlas would've talked about him at some point. He did grow up to become the bespectacled little angel that Chip had nurtured him to be.

That all went out of the window the moment my husband registered the entire group of girls in the living room fawning over the desserts and pastries, visibly taken aback by the sheer number, all co-living in a four-story bungalow thing with our eldest son.

Instantly, I knew what was going on in his head.

"Xan," he was back to whispering, pulling me aside as soon as everyone was distracted by the food.

"Yeah."

"All his housemates are girls."

"... yeah."

"W-where are the boys?"

Doing their homework. I wanted to say, just to lighten the mood but he seemed reasonably serious, the way his eyes had frozen up entirely. To help him recover, I vaguely announced that we'd left the matches in the car and had to go get them. "You guys help yourselves to the food."

I escorted the still-shell-shocked, unmoving bunny out into the open. He turned to me at once.

"D... do you think...?"

Frankly speaking, I was kinda impressed. I hadn't expected it from Chip, you see, figuring out things like this in a heartbeat was sort of my job in general. He's usually the one assuming the best out of circumstances. Not gonna lie, I was finding it real fucking hard to lie; only because he had in his eyes the look of a distraught bubble. I don't know how distraught bubbles look like.

"No, I mean—this... it's really not that bad, Angel. He's..."

My husband was a surprised pikachu in an instant. "Y-you knew about this? Our son's gay and he didn't tell me but but but he told you?" The shock was hitting him hard and this usually resulted in some next-level overthinking from my husband.

I paused. Trying to understand the situation. Meanwhile, Angel was having a mini panic attack on the patio. Luckily, there was high-end outdoor furniture for him to lie down and take a breather. "Xan! Atllie wasn't afraid to tell us, was he? D-do you think he was? Were we being subconsciously evil and and and projecting onto him the stereotypes of sexuality? Was he feeling pressured to, m-maybe, act like us or something? Is that why he didn't tell us?"

I was about to end his trail of thought by denying everything he said when I sort of realized Atlas and I hadn't had that conversation. Come to think of it, would a straight guy draw and sell their same-sex characters going at it in every situation possible?

Atlas had never expressed any interest in anything other than feeding his hungry fans. I wasn't the kind of parent to probe either, 'cuz, well, it didn't really matter to me, whatever his sexuality was. He was gonna be Atlas, regardless of that.

"You know what Angel, I don't know. Honestly. But Atlas has never told me anything like that, okay? We never had that conversation."

Our eldest not being biased and somehow favoring me over Chip as confidante (impossible) calmed the frantic parent in my husband and allowed me some space to talk proper sense into him. Which was all very good, yes?

Today was not my day.

Fifteen-minutes of maximum effort persuasion all spiraled down the drain the moment we returned to the mini tea party that for some reason featured what looked like a projector-sized PowerPoint presentation of sex positions and how to accurately depict them in drawings.

Sad to say, I... actually played a part in this.

The entire living room froze as soon as we walked in and needless to say, Chip was sent into frenzied confusion and embarrassment on cue. I simply gave up. Surrendered. Turning away to pinch the bridge of my nose in anticipation of an oncoming headache.

"W-w-w-w-w—w-w-ww-what's going on?"

Rory was standing in the middle of the college bunch, tossing homemade caramel popcorn into her mouth and looking completely unfazed. "They were giving a free lecture on—"

"AWWAWAAWAAUWA!"

She didn't finish. Chip had somehow made his way across the room through covered eyes and countless obstacles. I think he even stubbed his toe but the pain did not bother him as much as the current circumstance did. I mean, for obvious reasons.

"Atllie! Turn that off right this instant! Where's Miki!"

I looked around. Fortunately, the college kids had the common sense not to include a high school freshman in their informative lecture. I conveyed this piece of information to my husband, whose hands remained over his eyes. Covered.

At the same time, I was eyeing Atlas from across the room, who'd promised a clean record. He mouthed something like 'she started it' which was clearly directed at his popcorn-eating sister but now wasn't the time for that.

Surprisingly enough, Atlas' housemates were perhaps even better at handling the whole issue with our family better than any one of us were. Seconds into the cat-out-of-the-bag-situation, they were gathered around Chip with guilty expressions and soft pats on his shoulder. "Um. Sorry if we..." "We didn't mean to..." "There's an explanation for this, if you're up for it..." "She was really curious, though—"

The warm huddle group was soon interrupted by the return of Miki, coming through the doorway with the missing cake nicely plated on a huge-ass, unnecessary tray. One look at the projector screen was enough to have everyone else in the room bolting to mission—hurdling across the couch and table to cross the room and effectively block Miki's way and view of the living room.

"A-ah! What, what's happening?" He turned into an ambushed, surprised baby owl with big rounded eyes.

"NOTHING! NOTHING IS HAPPENING WE'RE JUST VERY HAPPY TO SEE THE CAKE IT'S BACK OH YOU PUT IT ON THE TRAY THAT IS VERY CLEVER I NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT!" Atlas. "Miki! Miki you did very well with the cake, um, but I think—" Chip. "WE'RE JUST SORTING OUT THE PARTY MUSIC YOU CAN'T COME IN YET!" Someone. "I TURNED IT OFF I TURNED IT OFF." Rory.

The group promptly dispersed, making way for Miki and the cake, clutching at their hearts like they weren't casually talking about missionary minutes ago with diagrams for illustrative purposes. Our youngest tottered into the living and set the cake down very carefully, clearly confused. Rory was tasked to distract and bring him elsewhere. I suggested having toothpicks through the sandwiches for easy snacking, and that bought us a minimum of ten minutes with the bunch of co-living college kids.

My husband had them lined up on the couch for a good angel treatment, which was how he'd have done back home as well. He crossed his arms and stood in front of the seated eight, trying his best to look stern. "I... I demand an explanation!"

And so the tea was spilt, the cat very clearly out of the bag. Needless to say, Chip was shell-shocked. Gobsmacked. His questions were the expected few: how long this whole thing had been going on, directed mainly at Atlas, to concerns about the living together and the whole reason behind the arrangement.

This somehow turned into an impressive show of follower-counts, subscribers, and weekly earnings. These were college kids, mind you.

"I review Korean manhwas, Chinese donghuas and Japanese manga on YouTube. All the gay stuff. My videos average around three-hundred-k views per vid." "I started out on DeviantArt and then hopped over to Patreon when I realized how much people paid for sex scenes." "I uh... write stuff on Wattpad that just so happens to feature elements of gay romance. I swear, there's plot. Promise. I only have thirty thousand followers." "Atlas is the big shot here. He hit ten million on Twitter just a few days ago." "We're working on a possible visual adaptation of this Wattpad novel about a chef and a critic who obviously has the hots for one another but eighty chapters into the thing and they're still virgins so we're re-considering that based on the numbers its projected to make. Sex always sells better."

This all, my husband had to comprehend with a spinning head. In the midst of all the commotion, he'd turned to me with his signature D: look. "You don't look very surprised."

At once, I was feeling the weight of a six-year secret. "Well... y—I don't..." No excuses, Xander. You're a guilty party. I relinquished all control and let him have it. Chip folded his arms and drummed his fingers. I had my gaze fixed on the carpet. "I wasn't... I just... yeah. I knew. I'm sorry."

Over at the couch, Atlas was visibly shocked.

My husband stepped a little closer, lowering his voice and privately flailing his arms. "T-that picture! That sketch—drawing, thing, i-it... it looked like us! Did you know Atllie was... did you know we were models for—" His eyes went big. "You shared strawberry-time anecdotes with our son??"

I was the guiltiest party alive and regret reigned victorious over my sorry desires. "I—y—it's..." I gave in, sighing. All I could do now was hug him, kneel and beg for forgiveness. "I was given a very good deal I couldn't turn it down I swear oh fuck I'm sorry."

Atlas had the conscience to take over and re-direct Chip's attention to him. "I'm sorry I lied," he came between us to hug my husband. If anything, the years he spent with us as a family taught him that Chip's heart was the softest strawberry in the world, vulnerable to hugs and kisses. "Well, no not really. I didn't lie. But um, I was hiding it, I guess... 'cuz, like, all of us do that." As though on cue, the rest of his housemates nodded vigorously.

"S-so this was how you got all that money for... for gifts like Miki's vintage camera and and and Rory's headphones the other time and those nice little accessories for me like this one?" My husband pointed at the choker he was wearing. He did not notice everyone else looking away guiltily as though that was obviously part of the plan.

"Y-yeah..."

Chip pulled him into one of his parent hugs. "So those nights you spent awake in your room were all because you were working hard drawing away so that you could get something nice for us...?"

Atlas, over my husband's shoulder had the look on his face that was about to say 'no, not really' but the entire room of common sense jumped at it, making wild gestures for him to simply agree and go with the flow.

"N—y... yeah."

"Aw Atllie." Snuggles were due. "You're the sweetest. But no more late nights, you hear me? Your eye bags have gotten terrifying!"

And just when the entire room thought that breathing a sigh of relief at this point was well-deserved after a fortunate resolution, Rory and Miki returned with the toothpicked sandwiches and all attention turned immediately elsewhere. Chip finding out about Atlas' deepest secret was somewhat inevitable and, at the very least, well within my reasonable allowance for, uh, reality, but Miki... that was a huge fuck no.

*

[Extra]

"Woah!" Rory whisper-shouted, grabbing a copy of the production team's recent storyboard and examining it without so much as a blink. She turned to Atlas after flipping through the fifty-paged thing. "Does it really work like that?"

Atlas turned to his team. The entire room of creators, ironically, did not think to look amongst themselves for answers. Instead, heads turned towards the only couple in the room, happy married and going at it for years.

Chip found himself reduced to a bunch of blushing 'uwa's and face-hiding.