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“Just drop me off, I’ll be fine,” Joq enunciated carefully.
His dad was too friendly to pull off a snarky look—that was all his mum—but he did manage to look sufficiently incredulous.
“I’ll get you settled,” he replied like that was the end of it and Joq sighed.
He followed his dad out and prepared for the impending car crash. At least he was high.
Chris was leaning against his door, looking down at his phone, one hand tucked into his suit pants, his jacket tucked back artfully under his hand, his beautiful face contorted with a frown. He looked up as soon as Joq and his dad emerged on the landing.
“Joaquin,” he breathed in relief. “Are you alright?” He straightened and came over to them and looked at Joq’s dad. “Hello,” he said curiously and extended his hand. “Chris.”
Joq’s dad took his hand and shook it. “Jim. Joq’s dad,” he replied equally curious.
“I’m fine,” Joq said and went for his door. He couldn’t be bothered trying to get the words out.
“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” Chris was saying, “I didn’t expect it to be like this, but it’s great. I’m Chris, Joaquin’s boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” his dad asked.
Joq groaned and unlocked his door.
Delia was on the other side and as Joq walked in, she wound between his legs, purring, rubbing, and he wondered if all it took to get her to warm up to him was barging into her space.
“We didn’t know Joaquin was seeing anyone,” his dad said from behind them.
“Yes, well, it’s new, and I’m not sure what happened this morning…”
Joq went into his lounge room and sat on the couch. He held his jaw, felt his dad and Chris come into the room and hover. Delia hopped up onto the cushion and sat next to him.
“Can you give us a sec,” he directed at his dad. He sounded muffled.
“Of course,” he replied and went into the kitchen. Joq knew he could still hear them.
“What happened? Are you alright?” Chris asked and came closer.
Joq expected Delia to growl and warn him off, but when he glanced at her, he saw she was busy clawing the couch and getting comfortable.
“Not now,” Joq managed.
Chris’ face flitted through a series of emotions—he looked like he wanted to speak, swallowed it down, and settled on looking hurt.
“You said you wouldn’t just bail,” Chris said softly.
Joq rolled his eyes. “You’re Christopher McLachlan.”
Chris flinched, but he said, “I thought you knew that.”
What a fucking lie.
“I won’t date a celebrity,” Joq replied firmly, or, tried to. It was difficult to sound angry when he sounded like a stroke victim and he knew his dad was listening.
Chris looked surprised. “I’m not a celebrity.”
Joq gave him a disbelieving look.
“Not really,” Chris mumbled. He blew out a breath and tucked both hands in his pockets. “And why not?”
“I won’t be your secret. Never again,” he said. Fuck his painkillers to hell and back—he just opened that door.
