Nothing about our date had gone according to plan. Our life had become a series of planned events. I still wasn’t sure how it fit me, but it was either that or not see Angel at all. My schedule was flexible, his wasn’t. He had classes when he had classes and there was nothing I could do to talk him out of going to class. I had only tried once in the almost two months we had been dating. That term still boggled my mind. He was my boyfriend. My mother kept asking to meet him. But she always said it with a little bit of disappointment. Like her entire grandchild thing was out the door. It wasn’t.
We’d talked a great deal about it because of my mother. Like we talked a great deal about how to get his father on board. I was finally understanding the whole my dad, my father, Babbo, Dad thing he had going on. We’d had dinner with Chef Marco once but not Mr. Vega. He was working late on a case with my father and neither of them had made it home for dinner that night.
And then there was the whole we hadn’t had sex in that time frame. It wasn’t like we didn’t want to, or that we weren’t satisfying that need. Because we were, just not in the bedroom. We’d graduated from the teenage make out sessions where we just kissed and barely made first base to third base. There were no any major arguements now that we were taking it slow. Actually Finn and Drew commented regularly said I looked happier. I dunno if that was true or not.
I looked forward to Wednesday lunches, todays had been no different except I was running late at Zion, and Angel was let out late from his class. Meeting up for pizza was fine and punching Ant in the face was refreshing. But he was right. This was Angel’s best friend, and I knew Angel had been avoiding seeing him for fear I’d get jealous.
And he liked ice hockey – maybe we could get together one night at my place and watch a game. I knew it would bore pretty boy, but he never complained when I wanted to do something he enjoyed spending time with me even if he was bored. And a bored Angel meant that he was more focused on me, or in the kitchen and either was a win win for me… his affection or food. I am a lot selfish and I know it. But it doesn’t bother Angel. It still irks me a little but when it matters he says no, or I don’t want to. And it has nothing to do with the bedroom. But he doesn’t let me railroad him. We’ve locked heads a few times, but no one has walked away.
Arguements are natural. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.
Seeing Angel on Friday was unusual. But seeing Angel always put a spring in my step Drew said. He always knew when we had a date. They both loved him. And really they loved his cooking. Saturday afternoons were fun, we watched a game, or a movie while Angel worked in the kitchen. He and Mandy struck it off well and they would chat while us guys did our thing. He wasn’t one of the guys. But he wasn’t a girl, he just didn’t like watching sports. He’d curl up on the floor with my knee hooked over his shoulder, his homework spread out on the floor, or whatever recipe he was working on. I put him to sleep several times just running my fingers through his hair. We were content.
But today I was also a little nervous. I was actually going to meet Daniel Vega as Angel’s boyfriend and the son of Steven Kennedy his partner. He didn’t like me seeing Angel. But Angel said they were getting along – though not as well as the could be. It was still stressing Angel out. And I didn’t like a stressed out Angel, he got quiet and pulled everything inside. He shut down. And for us that wasn’t going to work.
Everything needed to be out in the open. It was how we were working. So I hoped this double date thing would work. We could bond over a shared sport. I didn’t expect Chef Marco liked sports anymore than Angel did. Their tastes were a lot more … feminine wasn’t the right word. Cooking was hardly a feminine thing but that was the only way I could describe their similarities.
I picked Angel up outside his class building. He was wearing his leather jacket and a pair of blue jeans that fit his frame well. I couldn’t help but stare, his hair was dyed red and his finger nails were painted red and blue. He didn’t like sports but he was prepared for the game. He was with Cal, the guy who had dared him to get my number in the first place. Angel stopped in front of me waving to Cal as he kept walking. He leaned in for a kiss and I let him kiss him while I grabbed the zipper to his coat and tugged it down. I spread it carefully to see what shirt he was wearing. It wasn’t anything I’d seen before. “You went shopping?”
He shrugged. “I figured I’d look the part.” It was a simple t-shirt with the New York Rangers logo on it. “I got some strange looks in Modell’s like I’d never walk into a sporting goods store. I didn’t think I was pushing the gay vibe that day.”
I laughed, “You push the gay vibe everyday, lover.”
“I do not.” He protested and he pulled away taking my hand and walking towards the train station.
“You don’t talk like the sterotypical gay guy with the flippant hand or the sway to your hips. You don’t have the stereotype that says I’m gay written all over you, but the neat nails, the make up, the hair says I like men. Now if your nails were always black, and your clothes as dark they’d probably go for the emo goth type. But you wear normal clothes. And your eye liner probably would need to be a bit thicker.” I whispered more to poke fun at his self consciousness, “And you like to cook.”
Angel sighed and snaked his arm around my waist as we stood on the platform waiting for the train. We could walk but I wanted to grab something to eat too before we went to Madison Square Garden. “Does that bother you?”
“Why would you think it bothered me?” I pressed a kiss to the side of his head.
He grinned. “Because you walk around with that I’m straight vibe.”
“My arm is wrapped around you. I kiss you in public, how do I put off a stright vibe?”
He gave me an exasperated sigh that was very fake and those puppy eyes. “Not with me, but when you are without me you do.” He made it sound like he was helplessly in love with me. The way his eyes shined, and the tilt of his head on my shoulder so he could look up at me. He really did play the gay up some days.
I pressed a soft kiss to his lips and he moaned into my mouth which went straight to my cock. I whispered against his lips, “I don’t like those labels.”
He grinned against my lips, “Neither do I.”
We grabbed Greek food a few stops from the Garden and were early to our seats. Ant hadn’t told us that they were behind the Ranger’s penalty box not at the glass but three rows back. I was pretty happy. My generic Ranger’s jersey was on under my coat and I when I pulled my coat off Angel snagged it and placed it over the front of him. He was going to sleep. At least that’s what it looked like when he laid his head on my shoulder. I leaned my head against his and snaked a hand under my coat to hold his hand. The little hum of acceptance made me smile.
There was a clearning of a throat next to us and I when I stood up sudden Angel tipped over falling into my seat with no grace. He looked up sheepishly at his dad and grinned. “Hey Babbo.”
“Anthony was supposed to be here, your father won’t be happy.”
I held out my and to Chef Marco. “Sir, it was my idea. We have to get past this, I thought his love of hockey and mine might play well together.”
Up the stairs Mr. Vega walked and his voice was calm as he asked, “Did you now?”
Angel stood up immediately and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Dad, you know Zane Kennedy.”
I offered my hand and Mr. Vega took it and shook firmly. “This is my Dad, Daniel Vega.” Angel said a little more nervously as he leaned into me like he wanted me to protect him from his father. There was no history of abuse at least not from them Angel hadn’t really elaborated beyond his parents were good men. He didn’t like talking about the time before he became a Lucciano for real. One of the new facts I’d learned about his history. He was the adopted son of Marco Lucciano, not of Daniel Vega. But that was because of paperwork. Angel was always taught his name was Vega-Lucciano and wrote it that way for all of his life – still does.
“Our seats are right there.” Marco said as he pointed to the two on the other side of Angel. “I want to sit here.” He almost sounded like he was pouting as he pointed to the aisle seat. “Shove down you two.” He said.
Angel didn’t hesitate as he shifted down two seats but he didn’t sit because he was still attached at my hip. I found it endearing that he wanted to show his father I wasn’t going anywhere. But that put Mr. Vega right next to me. I gave him a smile as I sat down and Angel curled back up the way he had been. He whispered in my ear, “You want me to sit there?”
I shook my head. “I think I can handle your father.” I whispered back, Angel pulled out his notebook and his pencil and started working on his recipes again. His go to I’m bored activity. I noticed Chef Marco had out a similar notebook and was doodling in it.
Mr. Vega saw me watching his partner and chuckled, “They are two peas in a pod. Angel would sit in my lap with his coloring books when he was small and ‘watch’ the game with me. As he got older he’d sit in the same room.”
Angel spoke from the other side, “Because you started caring that I wasn’t blood, I wasn’t really your son and you didn’t want people to think we were doing inappropriate things.” He didn’t sound bitter, just stating a fact. I’d have been bitter if my dad said don’t hug me. Angel was very physical that had to hurt him and probably added to the strain between them. I didn’t want to get involved.
Daniel nodded, “He’s right. It was the start of our fighting. Always jealous of his relationship with Marco. I love them both, but I didn’t have the same relationship with my own son.”
Angel chuckled, “Our relationship is just fine Dad.” He looked up from his notebook and leaned over me to see his father better, “Our only issue at present is you think Zane is going to ruin your life. His dad already knows you are gay. He knows you have a son. He told Zane himself.”
I nodded. “He did, sir. He said he’s known for years. Figured if you wanted him to know you’d tell him eventually. And he’d keep it quiet even then. He knows image is everything. He has one himself.”
“How is he adjusting to your current relationship?” Mr. Vega asked.
“Honestly, rather well. There is still much talk and disappointment at family brunchs about not having grandbabies.”
Angel sighed. “Just tell them what we talked about.”
Marco leaned over and gasped, “You two have had that talk?”
I laughed. “It’s an issue my mother has and when I brought it up your son kindly offered up suggestions.”
“And are any of them viable for you son?” Marco asked me. The stadium was filling up and we had to all stand up to let people by but I nodded as we waited for them to pass in their overdone gear and foam fingers. Thankfully they were the last empty seats in our row.
“All of them are. Surogacy works for my mother’s concern about biological bloodlines and all.” I said as I sat back down. Angel was holding my hand while he wrote, which is why he’d chosen to sit on that side of me in the first place. “But as far as I’m concerned adoption works just as well. As Angel likes to point out, there are lots of little kids out there that need their forever homes.”
We sat in silence for another ten minutes before the game started. Daniel and I got into the game. The other two watched and winghed every timed there was a smash against the glass or a fight. I whispered to Angel, “For an MMA fighter you sure can’t take a hit.”
He grinned at me. “I can take a hit. I’m not big on team sports. I like to go one on one.” He winked and his meaning went straight to my cock. It was fustrating but it had been worth getting to this point. Everything was going well and even Mr. Vega relaxed a little told me to call him Daniel which had made both Marco and Angel look in his direction then smile when his lips gave a slight turn up. Something unheard of for him to do? I didn’t ask. It was all going well.