Barry’s arm cracked like a whip as he snatched the phone out of Xanathen’s hands. The glossy screen gleamed up at him. The word “Mom” in bold letters stood out, seemingly more than usual. He choked on his breath in trepidation as he forced the lump down his throat and cautiously lifted the screen up to his ear.

“…H—Hello?” he squawked, his voice nearly shattering.

“Barry? Barry is that you?” He’d recognize her voice anywhere. Her voice always reminded him of the heavy snowfall back in Minnesota. It was soft and clean with a whimsical sense of nostalgia packed into it, while her habit of enunciating more than necessary made him think of the snow falling from the roof in clumps. He felt himself brimming with tears as he heard her voice.

He sat in silence as he waited for something, anything, to be said. Xanathen scowled and gave his shoulders a nudge, encouraging him to just talk already.

“Yeah. Hi, Mom,” he replied weakly.

“Barry! Oh my god, Barry!” Barry pulled the phone away from his ear as her squealing made the volume spike painfully. “I’ve been calling you for months now. Didja get any of my messages? You never called back and I thought maybe something else happened, and—”

The rest of her words became indecipherable between the sobs and the shaky voice. A huge part of him wanted to wince and crawl away in embarrassment, having his mother cry over ‘nothing’ like he was a damn child. On the other side of that coin, he was officially declared dead for over half a year. A pungent combination of humiliation and guilt froze him solid as his mom continued crying and talking.

“Yeah, Mom. I got your messages. I’m okay.”

“I was so worried, I—why didn’t you call back? The least you could do is give me a call! I thought you had died again, and you couldn’t even give me a call to let me know you’re okay?!”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I was…busy.”

“Busy? What’s gotten you so busy you can’t even make a quick call?”

“Oh, you know…work. Getting adjusted to Florida again. Working on…helicopters,” Barry racked his brain for a good excuse. The more he answered, the dumber each excuse sounded to him. “Just busy.”

“You’ve been busy before and you at least still called every once in awhile,” she said with the cutting passive aggressiveness he had come to expect. The salt in the wound was knowing that she was right. She gave a lilting sigh. “—I’m happy to hear your voice again.”

“Trust me, Mom. I’m happy to hear yours, too.”

There was a lot of truth to that statement. While he would never be able to forget the liberating state of the tropical isle he crashed on, he remembered worrying about how much his own family must have been grieving over him, and how many times he thought of his parents mourning him when he wasn’t even dead.

“Is everything okay down there? Are you adjusting well? Are you eating well? You haven’t gotten sick, have you? Have—”

“Yes, yes, Mom, I’m okay. Everything’s okay. I’ve lost a lot of weight but I’m trying to focus on getting back to normal. Little bit of training again. Eating well, but nothing’s ever as good as your cooking,” Barry answered sincerely.

Xanathen listened intently and refused to budge from the bed, determined to make sure Barry talked to his mother. It was hard for Barry to really get into the groove of the conversation with his draconic significant other staring him down, while clinging onto a pillow.

He beamed at the last thing Barry had said with what, to him, seemed like the perfect solution to it all. He plopped his head on Barry’s shoulder, just enough to be near the phone, and said, “Barry’s mother! You should make him dinner!”

Barry’s face puckered sourly as he jolted to his feet away from Xanathen, all while cradling the phone. He looked back at Xanathen who was sitting on the edge of the bed contently, his eyes clearly reading ‘You’re welcome.’ Barry shook his head as he pulled his focus back to the conversation at hand.

“Who is that?” his mother asked with an amused chuckle.

“Oh, that uh…That was my, uh…” Barry choked a little on the words.

He stood away from the bed, looking back at Xanathen with his imposing figure triumphantly sitting on the bed as if he’d conquered it. Even though the LED lighting didn’t compare to the bright sunlight, his dark skin had a sleek gleam to it. His hair, like a fin sprouting from the top of his head and running down the back of his neck, always caught Barry’s attention. Of course there was that crooked smile of his, filled with dazzling white teeth. Though it was sharp, there was a sense of warmth to his smile that made Barry swoon just a little bit.

Xanathen caught his eye, gesturing him to tell her. What would he have to lose?

“That’s Xanathen. My…roommate—.”

Xanathen’s smile crashed. He folded his arms, staring Barry down with a confused, hurt look. He bit his tongue, though, letting Barry have ample time to correct himself.

“Nathan?” his mother echoed confusedly. Close enough. She laughed again. “He sounds like quite the character. I didn’t know who I was talking to when I answered!”

“What did he say?” Barry asked dryly, shooting a dirty look behind him to the culprit on the bed.

“Oh, nothing much. He said that you weren’t calling and he was going to make sure you talked to me. He seemed awfully excited that he was on a phone though. He kept asking if it was working and if he was talking to me. Where on earth did you find this one?”

“I…well, I met him on that island I crashed on—” he started.

Xanathen softened a little.

“He helped me get back home—” he continued.

The dragon’s fin twitched with glee as Barry continued truthfully reciting their tale. His smile returned as he silently urged the blond to continue with a nod of his head.

“—And, he, uh…” Barry trailed off, making Xanathen crane his neck in anticipation. “Well, he’s a cool guy and I offered to be roommates.”

Xanathen frowned again with a low rumbling growl that set the bed shaking like something that could be found at a sleazy motel with “magic fingers."

“What’s that? Sounds like something’s shaking over there,” his mother asked with concern.

“Ah, nothing, just oh! New neighbors,” Barry said through gritted teeth. He gestured for Xanathen to cut it out. “Yeah, new neighbors, and they’re dragging the couch across the floor, ha ha. Need any help over there? No? Lift with your legs, not your back! Ah, they seem nice.”

“How wonderful. Things really sound busy over there. But, you know, hold on. Your friend had a good idea. Wait right there. I’m gonna go talk to Dad. Gerald? Gerald!—” Her end of the phone went quiet, he could only make out slight bits of a conversation held off in the distance somewhere. He could faintly hear the muted news in the background with the sounds of his parents talking over it. He couldn’t make out the words though. “Hello? Barry? You there? So, I convinced your dad to take some time off work. We’ll come see you. Won’t that be great?”

Those very words had the power to shatter his world into a million tiny shards. Barry stopped pacing immediately and began to panic. No matter what excuse or reason he gave, he knew his mother had something else up her sleeve. It was like fighting a giant wave: there was no stopping it, or even pushing it back. All you could do was prepare for impact.

His mother prattled on about the travel plans to come and see him. He sat on the bed slouched over, like he was hoping that if he curled into himself enough he would cease to be. He sat there for the rest of the phone call, letting his mother chatter on about her neighbors, her work, and what else was new around town, while the color faded from his face.

The conversation finally came to an end, both of them seeing who would say ‘goodbye’ last. The phone bounced on the bed. Barry had the dazed expression of a boxer mid-fight.

“Roommate?” Xanathen finally sneered with a cutting edge. “I know I’m more than that. What was that?”

“What? Excuse me, but you’re the one calling my mother and inviting her over for goddamn dinner!” Barry retorted angrily, his face turning red. “Why don’t you tell me what the hell was that?!”

“I just wanted to help—.” Xanathen closed his eyes firmly and turned his head away. “You needed to talk to your mother, so I called her to make sure you did!”

“—So you can figure out a damn smartphone on your first try, but give you a microwave and you’ll set the house on fire?”

“Only the microwave caught fire,” the dragon said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, okay, okay, sorry,” Barry rolled his eyes and snarled. “You clearly know what the hell you’re doing.”

Xanathen sat on the edge of the bed in silence while his aura began to flare again. He crossed his arms, his fin lowered and he growled under his breath, letting the bed rumble just a bit.

“I’m not as dumb as you apparently think I am.”

Barry let out a frustrated sigh as he flung his arms to his sides with exasperation. “Then why? Why do you do this shit?”

“Avoiding your mother wasn’t going to achieve anything. She invited herself over. You needed to talk to her, anyways. Why didn’t you just tell her about us?”

“Oh, you’re right. You’re always right. Let me tell my parents all about how I’m not only gay, but in a loving relationship with a dragon. I’m sure they’ll just love that.”

“It might not be ideal, but it’s honest,” Xanathen said. “Why would you want to clip your own wings just to fit in here? When we first met, you didn’t take any guff from anyone. Not even me. You stood up to an ocean and even an elder dragon to get what you wanted. Now? You’re someone else completely. That fire’s gone. You’re okay with living by other people’s rules just to fit comfortably in this strange world!”

Xanathen’s words cut deep in places Barry didn’t think he even had. He grew heavier with each word, feeling ready to collapse onto the ground under their weight. He shook them off and glowered. He cracked the joints in his body and let out all of his energy:

“Okay, no. The fire’s not gone. You know what it’s doing? It’s what keeps me doing stuff I have to do. It’s what keeps me going to work, flying around, teaching you the things you need to get by here, so you can actually do whatever the hell you want without needing me here all the time! It may not be as sexy as wanting to ride you all the damn time, but it’s stuff I gotta do. Someone’s gotta do it, and it may as well be me!”

“I don’t need to learn to fit in. I shouldn’t have to: I’m a dragon. If I wanted, I could transform and claim this land for myself!” Xanathen shouted. “If this place is mine, I make all the rules. Then you don’t need to worry about doing the pointless things and you can just be Barry.”

“Fine. Go ahead. Do it! Go be a dragon! Take over the world, I’m waiting,” Barry snarled, crossed his arms and tapped his foot.

They stood completely still in their positions. Xanathen sunk onto the bed, staring a hole in the wall behind Barry’s head, while Barry’s arms flopped down to his side. They couldn’t even find it in themselves to look at each other. Xanathen’s knuckles turned white as he gripped a pillow until it seemed ready to burst. Barry scowled and turned on his heel, excusing himself to go to the bathroom.

He shed his clothes and stood naked in the stark-white bathroom. The AC felt refreshing on his sweat-caked body and face, which was flushed red with boiling blood from the argument. He turned the faucet in the shower and stepped in to the cold water. It pierced his skin, but calmed him, giving him a level of peace. The consistent, gentle sound of the water hitting both his skin and the tub was soothing. It let Barry take his mind off the heat of the moment. While some people found zen from meditation, he found his in either a good workout or a cold shower. It was even better when he had both!

He let his mind wander as the water ran through his blond hair and down his smooth body. Since returning home he’d had to trim his hair. While Xanathen missed his long, curly locks he was mildly pleased not to have to deal with all the tangles and knots anymore. Cleaning up didn’t take as long which was always a plus for him.

Xanathen’s opinions of him meant all the more to him now. Even if that bull-headed dragon was in the wrong, what he said stung badly. Barry looked up to the roaring shower faucet and wondered ‘Was Xanathen right?’ He focused on the water that dripped down his muscles and down the drain, spiraling away with precision.

Maybe there was some truth to what Xanathen had said. He could be such a stubborn man sometimes, with his mind always focused on sex. Barry’s face twisted angrily as he thought about it. He was probably just upset that Barry wasn’t always in the mood for sex anymore, like he once was. Barry couldn’t help it. He was out earning a living and came home tired. Sometimes a man just wants to cuddle and relax, is that so monstrous? He felt sure that he could act the exact same way he had done, while giving in to every sexual demand Xanathen had, and his draconic boyfriend would be singing a different tune. He would probably be okay with staying in that apartment forever if it meant Barry couldn’t say no.

Barry looked at the tiles on the wall and shook his head. No, that wasn’t right. It felt like it sometimes, but he couldn’t let a brief feeling of anger overshadow the entire relationship. Xanathen was never forceful and he never ever guilted Barry for saying no. He brought it up a lot, but it was always in the form of a question, not an answer. He was just as content with curling up in bed and doing nothing with him as Barry was, even if there was a bit of disappointment.

After his shower he looked into the mirror, speckled with stray drips of water, and focused.

He did have less energy than usual. His job was driving him into the ground and leaving him with nothing, but that was no reason for his defeatist attitude. There was some wisdom to Xanathen’s words, even if they were frank and not very poetic. Yes, Barry did feel Xanathen should stay home just a little longer, until he got more of a grasp of the world outside. At the same time, however, it wasn’t easy moving to a whole new place and learning a lot of basics all over again. Xanathen wasn’t going to learn anything by putting him down, and he wouldn’t learn from hiding all the time. He gave a peaceful sigh as he wrapped the towel around his waist and went back to the bedroom.

Xanathen lay across the bed from corner to corner with a surly demeanor. The sheets were covered in torn up bits of pillowcase and what appeared to be the pillow itself. He seemed to have let out some of his frustration.

Barry swiped away at the pillow sheddings, laid down and wrapped an arm around Xanathen’s waist.

“I’m sorry,” Barry whispered, resting his face near his dragon’s. “I’m just scared. What if my parents…”

He let the rest of his mumbled words fall into the mattress. Xanathen’s thick arm embraced Barry back. He cupped Barry’s face lovingly as he pressed his nose to his. A small smile peeked its way through.

“Don’t be scared. I’m right here.”

Barry gave out a small laugh and kissed Xanathen deeply as the two curled up into each other on the bed. The pillows lay in tattered shreds all around them, but it didn’t matter. They were content lying against each other until the calm of sleep rushed over them.

They could take on whatever came their way.

Xanathen was barely doing much better than Barry was when it came to stress. The walls seemed to taunt him. Just looking at them was putting him in a bad mood. Even when he ventured outside to stretch his legs and enjoy the sunlight, there was still something that made him feel confined. Each little thing around him reminded him how he was a stranger to not only this land, but the human race in general. There were so many nuances of things that he should, shouldn’t, could, or couldn’t do in certain situations but in other things, it was as bad as death.

His body trembled with the urge to drop this form and let his wings spring out and take in the light. He wanted to feel the sun’s warmth shine on his scales again and to soar above the clouds at his own leisure. It seemed like he could fly out into infinity if he just let his human form fall to the wayside. He thought about how liberating it would be to say goodbye to the ground and shoot through the sky as fast as he could.

What sort of dragon have I become? A dragon taking orders from a mortal man. My ancestors would be humiliated, Xanathen thought to himself as he looked into the clear blue skies.

He shook his head. That wasn’t right. Barry brought up good arguments and asked for a lot of things, but he never flat out told Xanathen what he could and couldn’t do. If he did, there would’ve been a Barry-shaped hole in the wall somewhere a long time ago.

He didn’t fear what threats this world had to offer. There was nothing he couldn’t take on. He had defeated his greatest foe, the Elder Dragon that terrorized the seas, one of the most powerful beings he had ever come to face. Let them fling these “missiles” or whatever they’re called at him. He could certainly take it.

It was Barry’s worrying he couldn’t take. Those blue eyes of his got even bigger and rounder when he got so uptight about these things. Something about the way Barry fretted just made Xanathen less willing to spread his wings and fling caution to the wind. If this meant that much to Barry, he would try to do his best to listen, no matter how frustratingly binding it was. For now the best he felt he could do was wander the sidewalk, avoiding people that came near, and stare longingly into cloudy skies.

I’ll be with you again, he thought to himself as he watched the clouds roll by.

Each day went by slower as the day of Barry’s parents’ impending arrival neared. Even with Xanathen’s reassurance, Barry couldn’t find it in himself to look forward to it.

It was a Friday evening when there was a knock on the door. The apartment fell silent as the rapping continued, followed by muffled calls for Barry from behind the door. Barry instantly recognized the sound of his parents’ voices as he gripped Xanathen’s hand tightly. Xanathen, while impressed with just how tightly Barry managed to squeeze, nodded reassuringly and pushed Barry to the door. Holding his breath, Barry opened the door and managed to squeeze out an awkwardly cheery “Hi there!”

There was a great flurry of squealing, greetings and footsteps, followed by the family walking through the door with their arms full of groceries. The dead air that had been hanging over the apartment had been broken and replaced with a lively, near-manic energy.

Barry feigned enthusiasm. Seeing his parents nearly brought him to tears. He could barely remember when he had last seen them, and for a long time he thought he would never see them again. Letting his mother wrap her arms around his neck and squeeze him was almost refreshing to him. The old familiar feeling of quickly embracing his father and slapping him on the back was as if he had never left home at all. There was only one thing that seemed to be in the way of making it completely normal.

“Barry! Good t’see ya!” Barry’s dad, Gerald, said with a strained smile. The wrinkles in his face seemed stressed by smiling at all.

“Good to see you too, Dad. I thought I’d never see you again,” Barry said softly, his own voice cracking just a bit.

“Don’t cry, come on. You made it,” his Dad said with a disgusted wriggle to his voice, like he was trying to shrug off the discomfort without having to touch it.

“Yeah, I know, I just…I don’t know what to say,”

“Gerald, don’t be like that—” his mother, Carol, said, holding Barry close with her plump arms. “He’s been stranded on an island. He almost died. Give your son a damn hug.”

Father and son looked at each other with an uncomfortable shrug and laughed it off, dismissing her. She was having none of it and pushed the two together until she was satisfied with their long-armed hug. Then the parents were off investigating the apartment, no invitation needed, looking it over with a curious eye and wandering footsteps.

“This looks almost the same as your last place,” Gerald, said gruffly.

“I see being away from home still hasn’t taught you to dust, has it?” Carol asked.

“Too busy to dust, I…” Barry started as Xanathen was quietly bringing himself closer to the trio, eventually getting close enough to look over their shoulders. Carol turned around and gave a quick shriek at the incredibly tall man looming over her, then snorted out a laugh. Barry sighed and gestured to Xanathen. “Mom, Dad, this is—”

Xanathen looked down at his parents with a condescending look. His muscular arms were crossed and flexing just enough to display all of his strength. Barry still wasn’t sure if he did this to intentionally establish dominance or if he was just physically created to show off his muscles at all times. Even when wearing a basic t-shirt and jeans he just seemed to naturally show off his toned physique.

Gerald and Carol looked at Xanathen in awe of his height, both engulfed by his shadow. His face softened as he extended his hand to each of them with a hearty smile as he introduced himself with a deep bravado.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hodgeson! Welcome! It’s great to finally meet you!”

“Oh, you’re Nathan! Snuck up on me there—” Carol shook his hand eagerly. She gave Barry a side glance. “Wow, you didn’t tell me he was so tall. And a cutie, too! Barry, you shoulda told me, I would’ve worn something nicer!”

“Nice t’meetcha, Nathan,” Gerald said as Carol cackled.

Barry groaned, turning away from it all. Xanathen however seemed all too pleased by this flood of attention. He shook hands, squeezing hard and sending the couple into fits of laughter, out of pure surprise. Barry wasn’t quite sure why they were so surprised— they could clearly see him, right?

“Boy, you boys grow big on that island of yours, don’t ya?” Gerald asked. “Damn. Got quite the grip there.”

Xanathen’s eyes lit up and his mouth opened but Barry quickly intervened.

“Oh yeah, super strong. And so polite,” Barry said. There was so much emphasis on the word “polite” that Xanathen understood that whatever crude joke he was going to make were not acceptable.

Carol and Barry made their way around the kitchen, opening boxes and stuffing things into the pantry and fridge. There was so much food that wasn’t even on the intended menu for dinner, but nonetheless was bought with the intent of filling the fridge anyway. There was nothing nicer than a fridge filled to the brim with food. Just the sight of it all made Barry’s mouth water.

There was just no place for Barry in that kitchen, though, not with Carol on the warpath. It didn’t matter whose kitchen it was. If she had a recipe and ingredients, you were her guest. Despite Barry pleading with her to sit down and take it easy, she was having none of it. All he could do was dumbly stand nearby and make forced conversation. Xanathen was sitting on the couch with Gerald, with plenty of space between them and a lively conversation was in progress. Good. Let’s keep it this way. Please, Barry thought to himself as he continued to move to try and stay out of his mother’s way.

The TV filled the vacant space in Xanathen and Gerald’s conversation. Gerald seemed content to nestle into the couch and grab the remote for himself.

“Y’like sports?” Gerald grunted.

“Baseball,” Xanathen replied simply.

“Good man.” He nodded, mildly impressed. “Surprised they got it out there in…Where’d you say you were from?”

Xanathen was puzzled for a moment, having never named his island before then gave the answer Barry had been giving everyone else: “Bermuda.”

“Ah. Anything else?”

“I haven’t seen any other sports, only baseball. Though if I saw them, I’m sure I would be great at them.”

Gerald snorted. “Right. Here. This is called football.”

The two sat quietly again, eyes glued to the screen. Xanathen was in a complete state of wonder as he watched the colorfully clad people run back and forth across the astroturf. The intensity of it and the movement brought a smile to his face. The rules meant very little to him, though he managed to pick up a few, just from listening to the occasional comment from Gerald or the announcers. He would join in and cheer when Gerald did, and was sure to shout in protest at the same time as him as well.

The table was set with the lonely, mismatched crockery set of the common twenty-something bachelor, dull-faded plates that Barry had found in a thrift store. The chips and scratches on them were covered by the steaming hot food.

The four sat around the table. Barry was amused that it fit that many people so comfortably. Gerald and Carol sat next to each other while he and Xanathen sat across from each other. As his mother passed the food around and made conversation, Barry internally sighed with relief.

Xanathen seemed to be on his best behavior. To be fair, his “best behavior” was a completely subjective statement. Xanathen certainly wasn’t the shining example of good manners when he grabbed the platters and began scooping everything onto his plate and letting out loud belches of approval after inhaling whatever was in front of him. However, he was a trooper when the two guests lectured, as politely as they could, about waiting his turn and saying “Excuse me.” He didn’t growl or toss the table, he simply let that dark purple aura simmer around him as he belittled them mentally for being mere mortals in his presence. He smiled his big, toothy smile and chuckled it all off.

His parents of all people really seemed to be enjoying this! Barry noticed how much his parents guffawed and grinned throughout dinner. The way they behaved towards Xanathen, trying to “teach” him how things were done in America—they seemed to find it all wildly amusing.

They were tourists in Barry’s everyday life.

“Nathan,” Carol chuckled, “your English is very good for someone who’s lived here for only a few months.”

“Thank you, I’ve known it for centuries,” Xanathen replied, beaming with pride.

Barry winced.

“Really? They speak English down there?” Gerald swallowed a chunk of meatloaf, his brows raising in surprise.

“Dad, they speak English in a lot of places now—” Barry started.

“I learned it from my parents,” Xanathen said, “My people learned it from settlers long ago—” He ran a hand through his fin-like tuft of hair. “I hadn’t had a chance to really use it until I met Barry.”

Carol gave Barry a look. “Y’know, Barry, you didn’t really tell us how you two met!”

“It’s not really that important,” Barry said.

“Well, I’d like to know.” His mother’s face sunk. “You’ve barely told me a single thing since you got home. I thought you were dead, now you’re back and I can’t get a word out of you. I just want to know what you’re up to and—”

“Hunting,” Xanathen interrupted. “We met while hunting. Barry was trying to find something to eat. His method was good, but he didn’t know the right hunting grounds, so I brought him some food and offered to show him where to find good game.”

Barry’s parents mulled that over, silently impressed. For a brief moment, they faded into the ether, leaving only Barry and Xanathen at the table. Was he changing the story for his parents’ sake? For his own sake, even? Was Xanathen trying to hide his draconic heritage?

Barry’s heart fluttered. Xanathen played the role of the island native as best he could without giving away that he was more than a man. He still refused to hide that he was a great man among men and possibly stronger than any man who had ever lived, but he hid the secrets with a strange cunning Barry had never known him to show before. Brash and quick to tell the most unfortunate truth—that was how Barry had known him to behave before. Yet here Xanathen was willing to lie about himself to Barry’s parents after that outburst about not hiding who you were? Yarns of anxiety begin to unwind from around his gut, finally allowing him to breathe. Barry wouldn’t have to guide him after all. He could take care of himself.

“It sounds like such a beautiful place,” Carol sighed wistfully. “Reminds me of when we went to Hawaii. Oh, you’d love it there! We went there for our second honeymoon. It was gorgeous. They had such clear water. It was so blue! I’ve never seen anything like it! And the tall mountains and the long beaches. Though I’m not going back without sunscreen. Not after last time. It was so romantic, though.”

“Does sound a bit like home.” Xanathen nodded as his eyes closed reflectively. “Though I doubt there’s anything quite as magical as my island.”

“That’s how I feel about my fishing boat,” Gerald added with a sneer.

“Oh, Gerald, I don’t think your smelly old boat can compare to Hawaii,” Carol gave a sharp nudge to his side with a chortle.

“I can understand that much.” Xanathen said. “There’s a special place like that for everyone. A place where time stands still and the world is calm.” There was a calm and almost mystical quality to his voice, like the gentle waves of the ocean. His fingers spread wide as his hands moved, pantomiming slightly to show the magnitude of the island itself with just words and gestures.

Carol’s lips curled to a relaxed smile as she reminisced about the expansive shores of sand on Hawaii. Gerald sat quietly, his wrinkles deepening on his square jaw as his mind was most likely on a boat in the middle of a lake, with a six-pack of beer stowed beside him.

Barry thought about the subject himself, drawing a blank. Though he had been to some beautiful places before and had brief periods of relaxation, there was never a place where he felt he didn’t have some sort of worry gnawing at the inside of his head. Even on the southern island, where he lay in Xanathen’s tight, loving embrace, Barry felt something was off.

He looked around the table at his family and his love. They laughed and discussed things in a peaceful way. Everyone who mattered to him was close and the conflicts faded away. For a brief moment, Barry understood what they felt.

“What do you think of it here in America?” Carol asked.

“It’s amazing!” Xanathen replied enthusiastically. “There’s so many things I’ve never seen back home. All of these tall buildings that just climb up into the sky, the rushing cars and lights, so many people just here. There’s so much to see, and I want to see more!”

“We should show you our town, sometime. It’s nothing like it is down here.”

“I’ve heard it’s very cold where you live.”

“Yes indeedy, it can be.”

“I’ll pass.” Xanathen replied with a grave shiver, sending Carol into fits of laughter.

Gerald, poking around at his food, had his eyes trained on Xanathen’s hair and how it jutted up from his scalp. He scowled, focusing on the thin wave of hair that rippled down his forehead. “That’s some wild hair y’got there. Do ya all got hair like that where you’re from?”

Barry’s heart sank right into his stomach as he looked at his father. This was far too familiar to him. He remembered that roll of the eyes and that disapproving look of his. He had lived through that his entire life and quietly feared what his dad would say next.

Xanathen paused a moment as if to think and nodded. “Yes.”

“You’re gonna live here in the States, right?”

“I didn’t intend on getting cards and paperwork for nothing.”

“Hm. I see.” Gerald said with a grunt. “So, what do you do?”

“I clean. I organize. When I’m not doing that, I watch TV or—”

“No, no, no. I mean for work. What do you do for work?”

“Oh. I…,” Xanathen trailed off sheepishly. “I don’t have a job yet.”

“I see. Here’s a pointer: You’re gonna wanna get rid of that. No one’s gonna wanna hire you looking like that.”

“Gerald, be nice!” Carol hissed.

“I am being nice, I’m giving good advice here!” Her husband retorted. “If you’re gonna live here, you’re gonna need to work. You can’t get a good job looking’ like a fruit!”

“Dad, it’s fine,” Barry finally interjected. “Right now he’s just adjusting t—”

“He can’t adjust forever. One of these days he’s gonna need to get a job.” Gerald shook his head. “What do you want to do here?”

“I want to explore the country, try all the things and—”

“For work! What do you want to do for work? You can’t travel and do all this stuff without money, and you can’t get money without a job. That’s just the way it goes. Do you know what money is? Do you? Do you understand how it works?”

“Dad—”

“Barry, butt out. He’s not your responsibility.”

“He’s not your responsibility either!” Barry snapped. “Dad, I’ve got him under control. Shut up and eat your meatloaf!”

“Both of you, stop it,” Carol said. “We’re trying to have a nice dinner. We didn’t come all the way out here to fight! Can’t you two cool your tempers for once and just be nice?”

“I’m being just fine!” Barry said, pointing at his father. “He’s come in here to my apartment and is trying to tell us how to live our lives! He always does this!”

“I didn’t say jack shit about you, Barry, so can the dramatics. Always with the production, this kid. Can’t do anything around him without him getting into a big ol’ hissy fit. Swear to Christ, I don’t know what I did to raise such a primadonna.”

“Where do you get off? I don’t even live with you anymore and you’re giving me shit. Is it always gonna be this way with you?!”

“I was actually pretty proud to hear you escaped that island yourself. Like, damn. That’s pretty impressive. Starting to think you lied about that, now.” Gerald said.

Gerald sat in his seat as he looked at Barry with disgust. He shook his head as he directed all of his attention to him. To Barry, his father’s words were scathing to his ears. His tone never rose above a grumble and only few words were said with a harsh voice. Gerald kept himself from shouting and maintained his self control as he spoke with an air of authority. He didn’t let himself give into his anger even though he knew he was right.

“But Xanathen?” Gerald continued as he turned his attention to the man in question, his expression softening. In a second, he went from judgemental to sympathetic. His face remained unamused but he had dropped the scalding gaze of disappointment as he looked over Xanathen. There was even a hint of awe in the way he inspected him. His voice was still raised with a passion. “He’s a grown-ass man. If he wants to live here, that’s fine. But if that’s what he wants, there’s some cold, hard truths he’s gotta learn. You can’t just do whatever you damn well want. There’s certain things that you gotta do if you wanna live in this country. Look at this big guy. He can probably do a hell of a lot if he just put his mind to it and put himself out there. You can only feign ignorance for so long. You gotta be a man and do something. Can’t mooch off Barry forever. One thing I can’t stand is lazy bums. Get out there and work, that’s what I think.”

“I’m well aware, sir,” Xanathen replied, a cold prickle to his voice. His purple aura flared around him for a moment, disappearing deep inside him as he forced a smile. Barry swallowed uncomfortably as Xanathen continued. “In regards to the hair, cutting it would go against my beliefs, and I refuse to cut a single strand.

“Meanwhile, your son has been doing an excellent job of teaching me about this country and how it works. It’s taking some time, but it’s not like I haven’t learned anything. I fully intend on finding a job once the paperwork clears so I can pay Barry back when I’m making money. I’m very grateful for how much work he’s put in, to both giving us a home and teaching me in his spare time. He’s got more fire in his belly than anyone I know.”

Barry couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. Xanathen kept his composure as he spoke and went on eating like nothing had been said. There was no outburst of any kind. Barry contained his excitement as he watched Xanathen defend both of them without picking a fight. Barry felt like a heel as he realised he might not have given Xanathen enough credit. Being boisterous and loud didn’t mean he couldn’t adapt to the social norms of this country. Barry simmered as he watched Xanathen handle himself maturely. He quietly wished his parents would leave soon. This rarely-seen side of Xanathen was more attractive than he imagined it would be and Barry wanted to get him alone.

Gerald seemed satisfied with Xanathen’s response, or at least satisfied enough to drop the subject. He quietly continued eating like everyone else. Barry was awestruck at how well Xanathen handled the confrontation. If that had been Barry, he knew this argument wouldn’t have ended so quickly, they’d probably still be at it until the end of the year. The things Xanathen said were almost the same as Barry would have said, though he hated to admit there was certainly less screaming and yelling than when Barry argued with his dad. It might have been just that Xanathen’s tall, imposing figure was slightly more intimidating than Barry’s, or just that Xanathen wasn’t Gerald’s son. Regardless, the discussion had quickly come to a close and he was relieved.

“That’s one reason I’m in love with him,” Xanathen added.

Barry choked on his food. He guzzled down more water feeling the color drain from his face and pool around his feet in a sickly, oozing puddle.

“Oh, how embarrassing,” Carol said quietly, dabbing her mouth before turning her full attention to the tall foreigner. “Xanathen, I don’t want to alarm you, but here to say ‘in love with’ is seen as more…romantic. Like a man and his wife. You meant you ‘love’ him, or ‘admire’ or—”

Barry pushed his empty plate away. Thankfully they could blame whatever Xanathen said wrong on his being unfamiliar with the culture, and they could have their fun in just correcting him.

“It’s no problem. I’m completely aware what I said,” Xanathen looked at Carol. “I meant it exactly like that. I’m in love with Barry.”

The table was suddenly as silent as the grave. Glances were exchanged and all of Barry’s flight reactions were screaming wildly inside of him, begging him to choke or fall over dead or even jump out the nearest window. Something, anything, to make this moment end.

Xanathen slowly rose to his feet.

“I’m in love with Barry,” Xanathen repeated. “I was fascinated by him the first moment he showed up on my island. He won my heart and I won his. He understands me better than anyone and I want to change the world for him.”

Carol said. “See, that’s sweet, I—”

“Look,” Gerald interrupted, “I don’t know how they run things on that island of yours, but that’s not how we do it here. That sort of stuff you’re talking about is just…weird. It’s not natural.”

“It’s nothing but natural,” Xanathen said. “Back on my island, we could do as we felt and nothing was unnatural.”

“Sounds pretty damn great. Why’d you leave?” Gerald spat.

“Because Barry wanted to come here, and I love him. If he wanted to go, then so did I,” Xanathen snarled back. “If Barry thought it was a good idea, then I trust him, even if I have to deal with blowhards like you!”

“Look, you keep your weird-ass free love shit back on your island or the 60’s where it belongs! You wanna be a freak, fine. Do it yourself, but quit lumping my son with you!”

“Xanathen, stop!” Barry snapped.

Barry inaudibly scolded Xanathen with a look of his eyes. In the back of his mind, he felt this still could all be salvaged. Xanathen could read Barry’s face before, so there was no way he couldn’t do it now. Barry would just have to silently remind Xanathen he was going too far and somehow make him take it all back. The night could be saved if he just feigned ignorance. Of course, Xanathen would also have to agree to that.

“How about dessert?” Carol asked loudly with a nervous laugh.

“Barry, knock it off. This is between me and him,” Gerald said. “I’m just telling him how it is!”

“Dad, you knock it off!” Barry said, pushing himself up from his chair.

All eyes went to Barry. All except Xanathen, who instead wore a smug expression. Barry’s heart pounded as he stood up. Time seemed to slow down as he pushed himself closer and closer to Xanathen with each step. His face felt like it had erupted into a bonfire with the heat of shame. No amount of public declarations of love had made him prepared for this. His heartbeats drowned out whatever his parents were saying. He swallowed harshly and looped his arm through Xanathen’s, looking his parents firmly in the eyes. A small voice in the back of his head warned him that this was foolish and it would not end well.

“I should have told you two sooner, and I would’ve liked a better moment to do it than this, without a fight.” Barry hissed venomously as he turned to Xanathen for a brief moment, then took a deep breath and turned back to his parents. “Mom. Dad. …This is Xanathen. My…boyfriend.”

The two continued to look on at him in total confusion, their expressions twisting to horror.

“You mean you’re…” his mother started.

“Yes, Mom. I’m gay.”

Carol stood, looking as if her brain were about to short-circuit as she tried to piece everything together. It looked like a million questions were rotating in her head at lightning speed, and it looked like she didn’t want those questions to be rolling around in there at all. She held her head in confusion as she started sputtering half-formed questions, before choking on the rest.

Gerald turned cold. He examined Barry as if his son were some alien creature. His lips curled in disgust, his face, wrinkles furrowed, looked disinterested. He seemed to pull himself away from the topic all together and looked like he was more content to think about his boat on the lake.

Carol began to chatter. “What? But—but—when did this happen? How? Was it something I did? Was it something he did? Where did I go wrong? I—”

“Mom, no.” Barry said. “I guess I’ve always been? Uh…It didn’t just happen, I was—I just am. No, I—no, Mom, you have nothing to do with this, I—I just found out when I was stranded, and—”

Gerald shook his head taking his jacket and heading for the door without a word. Barry followed him, pleading with him to stay and at least listen. Every other word that dropped out of his mouth was “sorry” and how Xanathen could usually take a hint and shut up. He nearly begged him to stay and start over again, that he’d behave better this time. All the words that came out of his mouth sounded silly, yet he continued to say them at a quick speed while he followed his dad to the front door. Gerald didn’t even turn around. The door simply opened and shut behind him, and that was it.

Carol, with uncertainty in her eyes, grabbed her coat and belongings and also headed to the door. Barry’s eyes stung with tears, but he tried his best to hold them back, swallowing to release the tight constriction in his throat.

“Mom?” he choked out.

“…I’m sorry,” she murmured as she looked back at him and before he knew it, the door opened gently and with a delicate ‘thud’ as it closed, she was gone.

Barry’s stomach knotted tightly. It was all over. He wasn’t sure what it was he was striving for, but he had been so close, it had been just at his fingertips. Now, it was out of reach.

Barry’s breathing was slow. The first breath could only force out the one tear that dragged down his flustered face. Then came several more. Soon enough, he erupted into an endless flood of tears and roaring sobs until his entire body felt empty.

A hand gripped his shoulder and he snapped back to reality with furious bloodshot eyes, still sobbing. Xanathen looked down at him unshaken, yet with a sympathetic look as he pulled him in close for an embrace. Barry nestled there for a brief second before pushing him away with the force of a piston and glaring at him with a fury he had never felt before.

“What the hell was that?” he cried. “What the hell was any of that!?”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“No you’re not! You’re just fucking sorry I’m mad at you. Are you really sorry about any of the shit you just pulled? Oh my god, I’m so mad, I’m furious right now! I’m actually shaking! Look at these hands, they’re shaking! Just…what the hell was that? What were you doing?”

Xanathen began to answer, but Barry began pacing wildly and randomly around the apartment. “Nevermind. Don’t answer. It’s all gonna be bullshit, I just know it. No, tell me, I’m curious. No, don’t tell me, it’ll be dumb as hell.”

“Don’t blame me for your parents being ignorant—”

“—My parents didn’t out me as gay. No, that was your doing. My god you can be so dense!” Barry rushed up to Xanathen, looking up into his eyes and breathing harshly through his nostrils. “You couldn’t have just let my dad win? You could’ve just said “Yes, sir” and—”

“You argued, too—”

“I always argue with my dad! That’s different! You could’ve just left it there. You pretty much won that argument. Once my dad goes silent, congrats: you win. But no, you had to bring out the big guns. Tell him you love me, that we were in love and…”

“He started it! He kept calling me a bum and lazy and all sorts of other things—”

“He didn’t call you that much! He’s just a stubborn old man! Are you really going to be shaken up that easily?”

“He insulted both of us. I don’t like being talked about that way and—”

“You know, as much of a shitstain as he is sometimes, he’s right! You can’t just go around doing whatever the hell you want! There are rules, there are expectations! There’s things you gotta do to get by and you can’t always do what you want! What’s gonna happen when you finally get a job and your boss tells you to do something you don’t like? You’ll probably yell at him, tell him to shove it up his ass and get fired. Or, knowing how you act, worse.”

Xanathen’s jaw dropped as he tried to think of something to say. His hands raised and he pointed a finger at Barry’s chest. “I wouldn’t—”

“You were so good around my parents to start with. You really were. You fooled the hell out of me. Then you get mad and have to assert your dominance and…Aggh, I can’t even look at you right now!” Barry cried out in exasperation and started pacing again. “My dad was right. I shouldn’t have to be responsible for you. You’re older than I am.”

Barry stopped in his tracks, sighing. He looked out the window with a forlorn expression, gripping the frame tightly. His nostrils flared as he shook his head while he took in the distant lit skyline of the city and Xanathen’s reflection in the glass.

Xanathen’s brows furrowed as he threw his hands up in the air.

“What, are you ashamed of me now?”

“Sometimes. Yes.” Barry dropped his gaze. “I wanted you to be my partner. But I have to make sure you don’t wander off or expose yourself or throw a damn temper tantrum whenever we go out. I shouldn’t have to be responsible for what you do. I should be able to trust that you’ll do the right thing and not have to worry about it. That’s basic stuff I’m having to worry about. I probably don’t even have a family anymore because of all of that! I’m alone.”

“It would have come up eventually! You couldn’t have hidden it forever.”

“You made me come out before I was ready! Not everyone is you, Xanathen. Not everyone can strut around confident that things will go okay. I’m not like you. I wanted to tell them when I was comfortable, when I was ready, after I’d told you more about my parents and when we weren’t already in the middle of a big fight! You forced me out!”

Xanathen slowly closed in on Barry, saying nothing, but offering the sorry expression that radiated from his eyes. He laid his large hands on Barry’s shoulders. Barry shrugged them off with a bitter huff and scowled viciously at him. Xanathen tried for a second time, and he even started to try and say a few words but he was cut off yet again. Barry groaned, pulling away from the corner of the room and storming into the bedroom. He had reached the end of his wick, and instead of a heavy explosion, there was nothing but defeat and exhaustion. No matter what he said, he couldn’t win. Xanathen followed behind, trying to start a discussion.

Barry slammed the bedroom door in his face. Xanathen rattled the door knob, but the door just wouldn’t budge. Barry heard him rubbing his nose with a quiet whimper as he knocked on the door and pleaded to be let in.

“Xanathen,” Barry said. “Babe. I love you. But please. I’m just…too mad right now. I wanna be alone.”

“But, what about—”

“Sleep on the couch.”

“But—”

“Goodnight.”

In the morning, Xanathen was fast asleep on the couch as Barry, fatigues and all, went out the front door for work. The reconciliation would have to wait.