“Don’t be so narrow-minded,” Luke said, keeping his eyes on the screen. “We all have a little bit of kid inside of us. I love kids, and I love cartoons. They can teach us valuable lessons.” He smiled a little.
He was fucking ridiculous. Whitford couldn’t have possibly produced this strange boy.
“I have a goddaughter,” Luke volunteered, breaking the silence. “I’d love to have my own kids someday.”
“You?” Roman didn’t bother to hide his amusement.
Luke finally dragged his eyes from the screen to glare at him. A disgruntled kitten, indeed. “Yes, me. What’s so funny?”
“You’re a baby yourself,” Roman said, taking him in from head to bare toes.
“Appearances can be misleading,” Luke said, flushing. “I’ll have you know I’m great with babies. It’s always been my dream to have a big family, have lots of kids.” He hesitated before adding, “And a loving husband.”
Roman felt his lips curl in distaste.
“What?” Luke said, his chin lifting. He turned the TV off. “You think there’s something wrong with it? With being gay?”
“With being gay? Personally, I never got the appeal, but I don’t care what people get off to. Different strokes.” Roman loosened his tie. “But don’t you think it’s unnatural to want a family with a man?” There was something objectionable about the idea of Luke having a “loving husband.”
He didn’t like it.
Luke cocked his head to the side, his fringe falling into his brown eyes. “I understand why you might feel that way,” he said, his voice soft. “I know homophobia is more prominent in Russian society than in England. But you’re wrong. There’s documented evidence of homosexual behavior in animals, too. So it’s not unnatural. Just different from the norm.”
The boy’s fingers were still clenched.
“You aren’t as blasé about it as you pretend,” Roman said, unbuttoning his shirt.
“I’m not,” Luke admitted with a crooked smile. “I already told you about my dad’s views. I tried hard to be ‘normal’ to make him happy. I changed the way I dressed and the way I acted, but I couldn’t change what I wanted, no matter how hard I tried to like girls. And I tried. But eventually, I gave up. I like men. I’ve made peace with it. If I was born that way, it can’t be wrong or unnatural.”
“Why don’t you tell that to your father, then?”
Luke dropped his gaze and shrugged, his t-shirt slipping off his shoulder. “I’m…Okay, yeah, I’m scared of his reaction.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m not ready to come out to him. I guess he will find out when I meet the man of my dreams and decide to settle down.”
Roman shrugged his shirt off. “The man of your dreams,” he said, not bothering to hide the mockery in his voice. “And who is that?”
Luke’s fingers stroked his bare thigh, more of a nervous gesture than anything else, his long eyelashes almost touching his creamy skin. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I guess I’ll recognize him when I see him. Obviously he must be attractive, and he must have the balls to stand up to my father. But first and foremost, he must be good-natured and nice. He must love kids and want the same things as me.” A faint blush tinted his cheeks. “And he must adore me, of course.”
Of course.
Roman threw his shirt in the laundry basket.
Flinching, Luke looked up. His gaze swept over Roman’s bare chest before meeting his eyes. The silence stretched, taut and tangible.
“You look…angry,” Luke murmured.
“I’m never angry,” Roman said. That was true, to an extent. He couldn’t remember the last time he showed his anger outwardly. Any strong emotion was a potential weakness he couldn’t afford to display. He had distanced himself from the majority of his family for a reason. They were safer that way. It was easier that way for him, too.
“You returned early,” Luke said. “Did something happen? Is there any news?” His dark eyes were wide and beautiful, and his lips looked soft and very pink. It was irritating. Everything about the boy irritated him: the way he looked, the way he talked, the way he fucking breathed.
Roman felt his jaw clench. In a few long strides, he crossed the distance between them and yanked the boy up by the collar of his shirt. “Do you think you’re a guest here?”
Luke blinked slowly. “No?” he said, his voice still irritatingly soft and musical, even as his breathing became unsteady.
“You seem to think you’re entitled to answers,” Roman said, only a few inches separating them. “That I owe you any explanation.”
“I…” Luke said, looking a little flustered. He stared at Roman, the expression on his face earnest and open. “I just want to know why I’m here—what you want with me. I think that’s fair, don’t you think?”
Fair?
“I think,” Roman said, letting his voice acquire an edge he reserved for dealing with enemies he had every intention of crushing. “I think I’ve been too soft with you.”