Page 43 of Sweet T
It was ten-thirty by the time Tucker got home. Evan was asleep on the sofa with the television on. Tucker left the food in the kitchen and went into the bedroom to change. He put on some shorts and a t-shirt, then headed back to the kitchen and put the food on plates.
Evan stirred. “I smell grease and it smells delicious.”
“I thought you might be hungry. I haven’t shopped for a while. Not much to eat around here. How do you feel?”
Evan sat up on the sofa. The blanket slid down his bare back. “I started getting a headache around six, so I took one of those pills and laid down. That’s all I remember.”
“You needed the rest. Hope Daddy and P didn’t keep you up. They were in the pool when I pulled up.”
“Not at all. I haven’t heard anything. But now I’m sacred to go to the window, after what you told me about their skinny dipping.”
Tucker chuckled. He brought their plates and joined Evan on the sofa. “They’re discreet. They’ll keep their suits on while you're here, anyway. Whenever I’ve busted them, they stay in the water near the edge to spare me. This isn’t much. Cheeseburger and fries from the tavern.”
Evan took the plate. “It’s perfect. I’m starving. Didn’t you say your Nana lived in this house?”
“Yeah. For a long time.”
“So, how were your parents getting their pool shenanigans on while she was here?”
“They weren’t. Rarely, anyway. When I was little, they used the pool for sexy-time. You know, while I was asleep in the main house. When Nana P came, the opportunity for outdoor activity was compromised. After her death, the pool games resurfaced, so to speak.”
“I imagine it’s traumatizing, walking in on your parents in medias res.”
“Beg your pardon?”
“Sorry. It’s Latin. It means in the middle of things.”
“They’re very careful. I may have misled you. I’ve seen a lily-white ass quickly wrapped in a towel a time or two, but that’s about the worst of it. They’re normal, modest. Especially Pedro. I promise there’s nothing unusual going on. They’re not looking to recruit you into some kind of harem.”
“Why not? Am I not harem-worthy?”
Tucker stared. Evan held his deadpan, then relaxed into an infectious chuckle.
“It’s a joke, T. I don’t want to sleep with your parents.”
Tucker’s relief was evident. “Good. I’m glad,” he said. “You never know these days. I see things on the internet sometimes.”
“The internet—small town’s window into the real world. I was just messing with you, T. I’m pure gay, male for male. My pronouns are he/him.”
“Me too.”
“Yeah, I kinda figured that out.”
Tucker found it hard not to stare again. Evan’s eyes were dazzling, luring him like a bug zapper. He attempted changing the subject.
“You talk funny sometimes. Like it’s not you.”
Evan pursed his lips, his brow furrowing with thought. “Oh,” he said, understanding. “Yeah. Sorry. It’s called affectation. It’s an annoying habit actors sometimes fall into. Playing the character of you. It’s insecurity.”
“What are you insecure about?”
“I don’t know. The usual, I guess. The future? Chasing dreams? Happiness.” Evan took a large bite of his cheeseburger. “What about you?”
“I’m not insecure,” Tucker said.
“Aw, c’mon, T. We’re all insecure about something. What about your father? You weren’t happy when he mentioned Javy being his best man. I saw it. I don’t think he did, though.”
Tucker sighed. He put his plate on the coffee table.