[Note: explicit content ]

***

When Hazel returns with the pizza, I see that he played it safe: half pepperoni and half cheese. Taking a slice of each, I get comfortable on the bed and grab the remote, flipping through channels in search of something to watch. Hazel serves himself and joins me.

"This reminds me of 'hot lunch' day at school," I say.

"Hot lunch?" Hazel laughs. "Is that what they're calling it now?"

"I went to a private school," I explain, rolling my eyes. "We didn't have a cafeteria, but once a week we'd get 'hot lunch.' It was a fundraiser the older grades did. They'd serve things like baked potatoes, nachos, burritos. Pizza day was the best, though. The choice was always pepperoni or cheese. My friends and I would get one slice of each."

"Private school, huh? I keep forgetting you're rich."

"My dad is rich," I reply, bristling, "not me. And not everyone who goes to a private school is rich."

Hazel frowns. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

I wince. "It's okay. Touchy subject, is all."

"Gotcha."

He says nothing more, giving his attention to his pizza and the TV, but it feels weird to leave things hanging like that, as if there's still tension in the air.

"My dad... uses money to control people," I say, picking at a bit of burnt cheese, "including me and my mom."

"Control you how?" Hazel asks, reaching for the pizza box and grabbing another slice.

Heat rises to my face. A pale complexion plus touchy nerves means any strong emotion makes me flush pink as a cooked ham.

"It's embarrassing, but... we have a 'contract.'"

Haltingly, I tell him about all the weird rules my dad imposes in exchange for funding my studies.

"I wish I'd been smarter earlier," I say. "And braver. If I'd waited a year, put off college until I turned 18, I could have broken free of him. I could have gotten scholarships, or taken out loans. I might be in debt and struggling, but at least I'd be free, and not cowering in his shadow."

"What's stopping you now?" Hazel asks.

I chew my lip; he's a sympathetic listener, but he doesn't quite understand. "Not being 'allowed' to work while I'm a student sounds pretty nice, I guess. But if my dad cuts me off before I graduate, I'm screwed. I had a part time job in high school, but that's it. That's my resume, apart from school-related stuff. Even the school-related stuff isn't that impressive. I wasn't on the debate team, or valedictorian, and I didn't play sports. None of that matters right now, because I'm on a good trajectory. Grad school's a different game, and I plan to play it on my own terms. But until I get there, my dad has the power to ruin my life, and he'll do it without a second thought if I fail to meet his expectations."

Hazel's eyes go wide. "Shit. Doesn't your mom get a say in any of that?"

"Don't get me wrong—I love my mom. But she's..." I scratch the back of my head and sigh. "She married my dad when she was nineteen and he was thirty-eight. By the time she was my age, I was already one year old. She told me once that he made her sign a prenup. If he leaves her, she gets a quarter of his assets; if she leaves him, she gets nothing."

"Shit, that sucks," Hazel says. "Does she have her own money, or a career?"

"That's what I mean about my dad controlling people. She was happy to be a stay-at-home mom, and there's nothing wrong with that. I think having a parent there for the kids, whether it's the mom or dad, is great, and I guess my mom enjoyed the 'trophy wife' life. But now?" I shake my head. "Joining the workforce at forty-three, with a high school diploma and twenty-two years of 'nothing' on her resume would not be easy or fun."

"Is she unhappy?"

I shrug. "I guess she makes it work. She turns a blind eye to my dad's affairs, and he makes sure she has what she wants. She's still hot, and he's... increasingly not. I think he knows he can't do better."

"That's sad," Hazel says. "Do they love each other, though?"

"Did they ever?" I raise my brows at him. "Not everyone marries for love. My mom married for money, and my dad married for looks."

"If I get married, it will be for love," Hazel says. "I can't imagine tying myself to another person for any other reason."

"Me, too," I say quietly. "Even if it's not 'forever,' I'd want to start there."

Hazel reaches across the space between us and takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. We finish our pizza and skim through channels, switching whenever a commercial comes on. When it gets late, Hazel takes his shower, and then we brush our teeth and get in bed, dressed in our matching shirts and underwear.

Hazel does everything so casually, acting as if there's nothing at all unusual about the situation, that it puts me at ease, and I forget my earlier anxiety.

"My parents loved each other," Hazel says, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. "My dad just did a shitty job of showing it."

I stay silent, allowing him the space to open up if he wants to, but not pressing for more.

Arms folded behind his head, he sighs. "When my mom got sick, my dad had just landed his first big university job. He was working towards tenure, and she didn't want to distract him, so she downplayed it. She didn't tell him how bad it really was. He was constantly away at work, at conferences, at dig sites, or locked in his office writing papers, so it wasn't hard to hide the worst of it. I understand that now. At the time, all I understood was that he wasn't there when she—when we—needed him."

Frowning, I roll over to face him. "How could he not notice, though?"

Hazel is silent for a moment, and when he speaks again, I hear the resentment in his tone, though it isn't directed at me.

"You don't get it. He was laser focused on his work; it's all that was in his head. And he was used to my mom being strong and independent, handling stuff on her own, not welcoming interference, so he... he took her word for it when she told him she was doing okay. The truth is she was dying, and she knew if she told him that, he would drop everything. She didn't want that."

"But what about you?" I ask. "How could she put that on a kid?"

"She didn't. Not on purpose, anyway. She actually thought she was doing a pretty good job of hiding it from me, too. The problem was, I saw everything. I helped her shave her head when she started to lose her hair. I saw how tired she was, how thin she got. I went to doctor's appointments with her after school. I didn't understand everything, but I understood enough."

"I'm sorry," I murmur, not knowing what else to say.

"She knew she couldn't hide the truth forever, but..." Hazel sits up, agitation making him restless. "She thought she had more time. She went to the hospital for treatment—a new drug her doctor wanted to try—but she had a bad reaction to it. Her body was already so weak, her heart just... And my dad wasn't there. I was in the waiting room. I'm the one they had to tell."

"Hazel..."

He wipes his eyes angrily. "I know you admire my dad, and I'm not tryna ruin that. I know it's not entirely his fault, and I know my mom wouldn't want me to stay angry at him. He's been tryna make up for it ever since, but it's just not something you can 'make up,' you know? I just can't forgive him. I've tried, but..." He shakes his head. "It's like he still hasn't learned his lesson. He loved my mom. Losing her hit him hard. But he still puts his work before people. Before me."

"At least he wants to spend time with you," I say. "That's something."

Hazel makes a face. "His dream was for me to follow in his footsteps, so we could work together as a father-son team. That just makes me feel like the only way to earn his respect and attention is if I become part of his work. Like otherwise, I'm not worth his time."

"I can't tell you how to feel," I say carefully, "but it seems like he really loves you. Even though you haven't followed the path he wanted, he still accepts you. I can't even imagine my own dad doing the same. He sees me as an extension of himself, not as my own person, and he'll cut me off like a hangnail if I disappoint him."

Hazel lies down again, facing me on his side. "Well, if he does, I'll take care of you."

"You will?"

"Sure. That's what boyfriends are for."

Surprised, I laugh. "It is? And is that... what we are now?"

"Well, sure. We've been on, like, a hundred dates already."

"Brushing our teeth together isn't a date, Hazel."

He shrugs. "If you say so. The way I see it, we've either been on a hundred tiny dates or one really long one. Either way, might as well make it official. So... will you be my boyfriend, Charlie?"

After that conversation, how could I say no?

"I will if you'll be mine."

He grins. "Deal."

Lifting himself on his elbow, he leans over and kisses me. For the first few seconds, I remain still, almost holding my breath. Then my hormones finally kick in and I kiss him back.

Hazel's default state is 'on,' while it usually takes me a while to get warmed up. He's learning where my buttons are, though, and when to push them. Right now, he's pushing them all.

He's hot, and he smells good, and we're in bed together. Somehow, he makes my scrawny ass feel desirable, too, kissing me like I taste better than ice cream. I'm so turned on that when he slides his hand under my shirt, I jolt involuntarily, clacking my teeth against his.

"Sorry." I wince as he draws back. "I'm no good at this."

He laughs. "Don't worry. I'll give you lots of lessons. But for now..." He bites his bottom lip. "Let me take care of you. I'll do all the work."

"Take care of me... how?"

He leans close again. I think he's moving for a kiss, but he bypasses my mouth and whispers in my ear instead. "I wanna suck your cock."

A little gasp escapes me, and Hazel backs off again, uncertainty clouding the lust and amusement in his eyes.

"Is that okay? You can say no. We can just make out. Or not even that, if you don't want to."

I nod and manage a strangled whisper. "No, it's okay. I... I want to."

Beaming with renewed exuberance, he moves off the bed and pulls me up after him.

"Has anyone ever done this for you before?" he asks, brushing hair away from my face and kissing the side of my neck.

"No."

"Good." He grins. "Then it'll be the best you've ever had. Take off your underwear."

Shaky with nerves, I almost fall as I obey. Hazel steadies me and makes me sit on the edge of the bed.

He kneels in front of me, hands on my parted knees. "Just say 'stop,' and I will. Promise."

I nod. He pulls the front of his briefs down and frees his dick, stroking himself with one hand. My own erection had wilted with nerves, but the sight of him has me hard again in seconds, and harder still when he takes me in his other hand and lowers his head between my thighs.

His mouth is surprisingly hot, and I gasp and shudder as his silky tongue makes contact with my skin. He licks and teases, making me whimper and twitch. I barely restrain a moan as he takes my whole length in his mouth, hot and tight. His head bobs up and down, finding a perfect, smooth rhythm, and I bite my bottom lip to hold back the embarrassing sounds threatening to escape my throat. The thought of him masturbating while sucking me off is almost as hot as the sensation itself, and I'm quickly in danger of coming in his mouth.

"Hazel—Hazel, stop." I gasp and tug at his hair. "I'm—"

He pulls off me, lips flushed and slick with saliva, and blinks with lust-glazed eyes. "What?"

"I'm gonna come," I say, panting a little.

He winks. "Good. Me, too. That's what we're going for."

Engulfing me again, he increases the pace, gripping my thighs with both hands. Helpless to stop it, I climax hard, flooding the back of his throat. He swallows around me, then slowly sucks me in and out a few more times, as if thirsty for every last drop, before letting me slide from his lips.

Locking eyes with me, he finishes himself with a few quick pumps of his fist, and catches his load in his hand.

I flop back on the bed, chest heaving as I catch my breath; he gets up and washes off in the bathroom, returning with a warm cloth for me.

Though it's barely been a minute since he had my cock in his mouth, somehow his gentle administrations feel more intimate, and make me blush. I almost want to push him away and do it myself, but I don't.

Clean and reclothed, we return to bed. Hazel switches off the light, leaving a wide space between us. Briefly, I wonder if things will be awkward now, but a moment later I feel the bed move as Hazel rolls over and shifts close, molding himself against my back.

"Can I hold you for a while?" he whispers.

I whisper back, "Yeah."

He sighs contentedly, his breath brushing the back of my neck. "I'm so in love with you," he murmurs, and falls asleep without waiting for a reply.

Staring blindly in the darkness, I lie awake in his arms a while longer.

I've learned a lot about Hazel in the past hour—including what he can do with his mouth. But I've also learned that sex isn't what matters most to him. This is. In his mind, boyfriends don't just fuck; they take care of each other. So far, though, I've been entirely on the receiving end. I hope when the opportunity arises, he'll let me take care of him, too.