Bill was probably frying his hair, the heat turned up on the highest setting on the blow dryer. He had to get his hair finished quickly, though, especially with David already here. Who knew how long it would be before his father did something horrendously embarrassing or worse, pitiful. The fact that Bill had, in his own way, been taking care of his father for the past year or more had implanted itself firmly in his head, though in reality his father would be fine whether Bill was there or not. Many humans moved out when they were eighteen or nineteen, but Bill felt obligated to stay simply because his brother had left. Who else would take care of their father? Not that he was doing such a grand job on his own. Still, looking for Thomas was a full time job, and it had been for the past year.
He felt the creeping words in his mind, though he was sure that David meant them in a soothing way. He just couldn't get used to someone being in his head like that. Taking a deep breath, though, he forced himself to slow down with the blow-drying. It was still a bit damp when he was finished, though only just; it was dry enough for his hair to take to the mousse and hairspray he used to spike out the top, and that was what he mainly needed. Grabbing his shirt, he dashed out the bathroom door to grab his wallet just as his father spoke again.
"Oh, so you're his boyfriend, then?" John grunted, clearly not caring either way. He had asked to make conversation, and by doing so had subjected himself to endless blabbing by the other man. Well, it had seemed endless, though it had likely taken only a few scant minutes, if that, to describe their outing. "No, thank you. I'm fine."
Bill looked back and forth between them quickly, trying to gauge the situation he had walked into. Had David just introduced himself as his boyfriend? He wouldn't, after Bill had turned him down, would he? No matter that Bill had changed his mind and wanted to give them a try now, David wasn't supposed to know that yet. Could David have read his mind from the bathroom? Probably, since the rooms were so small together. That small fact bothered him a little; how was he supposed to keep any sense of privacy if David did?
"I don't have a boyfriend," Bill opened his big mouth before David could answer. He didn't elaborate, instead looking at David. His stance was tense, and it was obvious that he didn't want David and his father in the same room, much less talking to each other, for any amount of time. "Are you ready?"
"Now hold on, boy," John interrupted shortly. "We were having a conversation, he and I." He looked over to the other man, ignoring his son. He didn't care a lick about what they had been talking about, but it was important for him to not look like a drunk asshole, whether he was one or not. Fortunately, he was a rather able drunk, and could actually hold a conversation when he wished to.
"When are you bringing him back?" he asked the man, more concerned about the illusion of a father than actually being one. "He has school in the morning. And I don't need you two getting in late and waking up Thomas…he's my older boy, and he has to work."
Bill's lips fell into a hard line, holding back the pain he felt at those words. An entire year, and his father still hadn't realized that Bill was the one supporting them now, that he had had to quit school in order to get a job because Thomas was gone. He didn't bother correcting his father, though, knowing that it was no use--John would drink the memory away, like he had every other one.
