Copyright June 15-17, 2000 by Matthew Haldeman-Time
Rating: NC-17 for a brief male-male sexual situation between minors
Pairing: Jason Fox/Marcus
Disclaimer: "FoxTrot," with its related characters and themes, belongs to Bill Amend, not to me. I make no money from this venture.
Dedication: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor.
Wherein the writer manages to include Ewan, Hamlet, and the slash community.
Notice: I couldn't think of a title, but the song "Come on Eileen" popped
into my head, so for lack of inspiration I titled from there.
Andy looked up from her crossword puzzle as her youngest son raced into the kitchen. "What is it?" she asked, hoping for legitimately good news and not what Jason considered to be good news.
"Marcus' parents bought him a car!"
Oh dear lord. "They did?" she asked, hoping that her horror and dread weren't showing.
"Now we don't have to borrow yours anymore. We can drive anywhere we want! The movies, the store, the planetarium!"
"That's great, Jason. All of those things take money, though."
"I know. He doesn't have to pay for his own gas or anything."
Andy wished, once again, that Marcus' parents weren't quite as generous as they were. Marcus always had the latest computer game, the latest electronic contraption, and Jason either writhed with envy or borrowed it, which meant that either she was begged for it nonstop or bugged by it nonstop. Now with a car Marcus and Jason would have free rein to roam the landscape, which didn't bode well. Jason got in enough trouble when he was in the house. With Jason let loose on the world, there was no hope for civilization. Although she could set guidelines, she had no cause to lock him in the house and keep him away from Marcus, and she couldn't control their behavior once they were out of sight.
"What kind of car is it?" Peter asked, opening the refrigerator.
"I don't know," Jason said.
"Right. If it's not the car from Knight Rider, Jason doesn't care," Peter said, popping open a can of Coke. "So you'll be spending a lot of time away from the house?" he asked with hope. Just then they heard a car pull up in the driveway.
"Gotta go, Mom, Marcus is here!" Jason said, turning to run for the door.
"Wait," Andy said, reaching out and grasping Jason's forearm, pulling him back to the table. She forgot he wasn't ten anymore, sometimes, and so did he. He looked at her impatiently. "Where are you going?"
"Out," he said. "The Star Wars store is having a sale next week, and we want to see what they have."
"There's a Star Wars store?" Peter asked.
"Shouldn't you be at work or something?" Jason asked.
"When will you be back?" Andy asked.
"By ten."
"The store's open that late?"
"Come on, Mom, Marcus is waiting."
The doorbell rang. "Peter, please?" Andy said. Peter ambled off to let in Marcus. "Jason, we need to set some ground rules. You can't run off whenever you want. I need to know where you're going, who will be there, when you'll be back, what you'll be doing. I might need to reach you-"
"You have Marcus' cell phone number," Jason said. "My curfew's ten o'clock. I'll tell you before I go. Okay?"
"No getting in trouble. Hello, Marcus."
"Hi, Mrs. Fox," Marcus said, coming into the kitchen. To Jason: "You ready to go?"
"Where are we going?" Jason asked.
"I wanted to check out the Star Wars store. The sale's next Friday."
"Great. When are we getting back?"
"You have to be here at ten. The store's open until nine. Nine-thirty?"
"Nine-thirty okay, Mom?" Jason asked.
"That's fine," Andy said. "Have a good time. Drive safely. Wear your seatbelt."
"Bye, Mom," Jason said.
"Bye, boys."
Jason and Marcus headed out the back door. Peter came in a moment later, shaking his head. "Mom, Marcus has a green Jaguar. A green Jaguar."
"Wow," Andy said. "For his first car?"
"You know what Jason said? He said, 'Wow, this is a lot more aerodynamic than our car.'"
At nine thirty, Jason and Marcus came back. Peter and Roger went out to look over Marcus' car; Jason and Marcus went up to Jason's room. Marcus settled on his stomach on Jason's floor, eye-to-eye with Keith, Quincy's reincarnation. He fed Keith mealworms and said, "How much money do you have?"
Jason sat by Marcus, leaning his back against the bed. He ran his hand through his hair automatically; the yellow-blonde strands were getting shaggy but he kept forgetting to cut them, as usual. "Two dollars."
"So with your allowance, by the sale on Friday you'll have twelve. No, seven."
"Yeah." His parents still were taking half of his weekly allowance to pay for the front window he'd shattered. "Seven bucks won't buy me anything."
"How can you make money?"
"Between now and Friday? Beg my dad."
"That'll get you seventeen."
"I want to buy enough Darth Maul posters to wallpaper my room."
"Your mom'll have a conniption. She already made you take down the one that you have."
"She thinks it'll give me nightmares. It really freaked out Paige, though. That was great."
"I had to take down my Obi-Wan poster. My sisters kept coming in to drool over it."
"Paige stole mine."
"Girls." Marcus rolled his eyes at Keith. "I won't tell you what they said about Mace Windu. Anyway, you don't want to waste your money on something your mom won't let you use."
"And I could wait to buy the books. Usually somebody gives in and buys them for me, for my birthday or something, since they're trying to encourage me to read."
"Like you need encouragement to read," Marcus said. "Especially about Star Wars."
"You know what they should sell?"
"Besides a life-sized model kit for a podracer?"
Jason stared, then grinned. "Exactly what I was thinking."
"That would be so cool! I would love to drive one of those around town! You could have Anakin's and I could have Sebulba's."
"We could go so fast... We could race them... So much better than that stupid sedan my dad has. Although your new car's pretty cool."
"Thanks. I wanted something with serious power, but they wouldn't get me a Mercedes."
"Why not?"
"I don't know."
"I wish I had a car. Can I drive yours?"
"Sure."
Marcus left at ten of eleven, having an eleven o'clock curfew. He drove Jason to school the next morning. After school, Andy was in the kitchen again when Jason and Marcus walked in through the back door. She noticed Jason's angry, sullen scowl and said, "What's wrong? Did something happen at school?"
"We have to read Hamlet and write a paper on it," Marcus told her.
"Really?" she asked, pleased, interested.
"It's this totally stupid play about some indecisive European guy," Jason muttered. "At least Paige got to read MacBeth. That at least has witches and the bloody apparitions."
"I was talking to Eileen about Hamlet," Marcus said. "She told me that there's a ghost, the ghost of Hamlet's father the king, who was killed by his younger brother. He poured poison in his ear while he was sleeping. So the king comes back as a ghost to tell Hamlet to avenge his death. Then Hamlet's girlfriend Ophelia goes insane." Marcus was relishing the ideas. "There's a duel with a poisoned sword, and they switch swords in the middle, so they kill each other with the poisoned sword. Then there's a poisoned drink that's meant for Hamlet but his mother drinks it and dies. Everybody's dead at the end, even the minor characters."
"He pours poison in his older brother's ear?" Jason asked.
"Kills him, steals his throne, steals his wife, tries to have his son killed."
"This could be cool," Jason mused. "So, Eileen told you about it?"
"Yeah. She's read it already. She said we should read Titus Andronicus. It's all blood and guts and gore."
"Cool." Jason grinned.
"They cut off hands, and even tongues, and they feed-"
"I'm glad that you're gaining an appreciation for Shakespeare," Andy said.
"English major," Jason told Marcus.
"You know they're performing Hamlet at the community theater," Andy said. "You could go. You could invite Eileen."
"Why?" Jason asked.
"Because it would help you to understand Shakespeare, and she likes Shakespeare, and they're plays; they're meant to be seen."
"We could," Marcus said.
"I'd pay for your ticket," Andy told Jason. "And I'll bet that if you asked, Mrs. Kate might give you extra credit for going."
"Okay," Jason said. "How many people die?"
Wanting to encourage his interest in Shakespeare even if it had to be this way, she said, "Only five onstage, but there are a lot of offstage deaths, too."
"Cool." Jason and Marcus shared a smile.
Andy had been hoping for six years that Jason might show an interest in Eileen. Interest had been expressed, but no more now than six years ago. Going to a play counted as a date, even if done for extra credit. And if Marcus went along, well, surely Eileen knew by now that wherever Jason went, Marcus went too. Maybe if this evening were a success, next time Jason might go out with Eileen alone.
Andy reminded Jason of the play the following morning at breakfast. When he walked in that day after school, she asked him about it.
"Mrs. Kate says that she'll give us extra credit points if we go and hand in a one-page paper on the theater's interpretation."
"Did you invite Eileen?"
"Yeah. We're going Friday. Can I have the car? Eileen's mom needs theirs, and Marcus' car is too small for all three of us."
"Yes, you may borrow the car. I clipped this article from the paper; you'll want to call ahead to reserve tickets."
"Thanks, Mom."
"Jason."
"Yeah?" he asked, pausing in the doorway.
"Do you like Eileen?"
"She's pretty smart." At some point Jason had stopped qualifying statements such as that one with, "for a girl." Andy didn't know where to place the credit; Jason was no longer a misogynist or even sexist at all, though he still loathed Paige. That sister-hatred was more of a habit than a heartfelt sentiment, Andy was certain.
"She's very cute."
"I guess." Jason didn't seem to care one way or another.
Thursday night, when Roger got into bed Andy was sitting there, staring at her lap. "Everything all right?" he asked.
"It's Jason."
"Of course it is. How much do we owe this time? Hundreds of dollars or hundreds of written apologies?"
"Have you noticed how little interest he has in girls?"
Roger thought about it. "He wrote a love letter to Gretchen."
"Roger, he was ten years old and Gretchen was a snake."
"He's always hated girls."
"That's a phase. He doesn't hate them any more, he grew out of that phase; now he just doesn't care. When Peter was sixteen, don't you remember how he was? Peter was obsessed with girls: the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, the Baywatch calendars, the magazines under his bed he thought no one knew about, and Denise."
"Peter has magazines under his bed?"
"But Jason, Jason doesn't care about girls."
"He has no room left to care about girls. He cares about calculus and Star Trek."
"I don't think that it's healthy."
"Andy, Jason's never been normal."
"What if he's gay?"
Roger's heart stopped beating.
"I mean, he doesn't care about girls at all. That doesn't mean that he cares about boys, either. But I can't help but wonder."
"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"
"I can't ask him. There's no good way to ask. Oh, that sounds so negative, if he is gay I won't love him any less, how could I love him any less. He's tested our love enough over the years, there's no way I'll ever stop loving him, he must know that. But what if he is gay?"
"Andy."
"Roger, I'm only guessing. It's pure speculation. But if Jason is gay, I want to know about it. And we have to decide what to do about it now, so we don't react badly in the moment."
"What to do about it?"
"Some parents kick their kids out of the house, don't pay for college, write them off entirely. Some parents put their kids in therapy. Some parents consult their pastor. A little therapy might be good, just so that we'll be educated on our own responses and how to handle society's responses as well. But society is going to punish Jason enough as it is, and I don't want to give him any added stress. Punish him - - for what, for being a little outside the social norm? Jason's never been inside the social norm."
"Andy, you're upsetting yourself."
"He's probably not gay at all, Roger. I don't know what I'm doing, thinking like this."
"Isn't he going to a play with Eileen tomorrow night?"
"Eileen and Marcus." Andy stared at her lap. "Marcus..."
"Andy, don't. Marcus and Jason have been best friends for a long time."
"I'm going to hate myself for thinking about this in the morning."
"There's no reason to hate yourself. You're worried about Jason."
"Nothing new there."
Jason stared at his mother in horror. "A suit? I have to wear a suit? I'm not going to church!"
"It's a Friday evening at the theater, Jason. You need to look nice."
"I look nice in my jeans."
"They're dirty."
"I'll wear my good sneakers."
"There's a hole in them. Sweetie, just put on some nice clothes. And hurry, you'll be late."
At this age, for an evening with a girl, Peter unfailingly had put on too much cologne. Jason didn't have any on at all, Andy noticed when he came downstairs again. Still, he smelled good anyway, deodorant and bubble gum and fabric softener. He was wearing a casual dark blue suit with his Obi-Wan Kenobi tie. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, ran a hand through his hair, and said, "Does this attire meet your specifications?"
"Yes. You look very nice. You have the tickets?"
"Yes, Mom."
"All right. Have a nice time."
"Thanks, Mom. Bye, Dad!"
"Bye!" Roger called from the living room.
"Oh, sweetie, since it's Friday and you're going out for an extra credit project, you don't have to be in until eleven. In case you want to stay out and talk with your friends."
"Thanks, Mom."
At ten, Andy heard the car come into the driveway. She hurried into the living room and sat quickly, posing herself with The New Yorker in her lap. Paige smirked at her as the front door opened. Jason, Marcus, and Eileen walked in, all well-dressed and attractive. "Hi," Jason said. "That's my mom. My dad's around here somewhere, and my brother Peter."
"Ahem," Paige said.
"Oh, and Kevin, my iguana, he's upstairs," Jason added.
"I'm Paige," Paige told Eileen. "I'm Jason's sister. I can tell you more embarrassing stories about him than-"
"Mom, we're going to the kitchen," Jason said.
"How was the play?" Andy asked.
"Our experience, or the experience of the people around us?" Eileen asked.
"Oh no," Andy moaned.
"Is it my fault if-"
"Jason, you were screaming at the players. You shouted at the actors. You prayed to George Lucas and Chris Carter loudly," Eileen said.
"And Gene Roddenberry," Marcus added.
"And you!" Eileen said, rounding on Marcus. "You were the one warning Hamlet about every little thing! Set-ups and spies and poisons and eavesdroppers and every - - and then when he didn't listen, you kept shouting out, 'I told you so!'"
"Someone had to tell him," Marcus muttered. "I hate seeing people run around helpless and uninformed."
'"He was hardly helpless," Eileen said.
"I'm surprised you weren't evicted from the theater," Andy said, appalled.
"The manager's from our SOS web group," Jason said. "Anyway, we're going into the kitchen. Besides, Eileen, you're the one who caused the biggest commotion. I've never heard such langauge in a theater."
"You've never been to a theater," Eileen muttered.
"'If you two don't sit down and shut up I'm going to kick your BEEP! Now be quiet!'" Jason said. "My mother never lets me talk like that."
"I have never been so embarrassed in my life," Eileen told them.
"Then why did you keep laughing at us?" Marcus asked.
"Okay, I'll admit, it was funny when you shouted, 'Hamlet one, Polonius, zero!' right when Hamlet killed him," Eileen said.
The three of them went to the kitchen. Andy heard them talking and laughing as they got out the ice cream. They had to go, finally; Jason drove Eileen and Marcus home, and got home himself just at eleven.
"Sounds like you had fun," Andy said. "Despite the other people at the theater."
"We weren't that bad," Jason said. "Thanks for the car, and the ticket."
"Eileen seems like fun," Andy said. "Well-suited to you."
"I guess. Most people would have flipped, but she can be, you know, sort of cool, sometimes."
"She looked pretty."
"Yeah. Some of the guys at school like her," Jason said, finally catching onto the general gist of Andy's conversation.
"Don't you?"
"Sure. She's nice. She's pretty smart."
"You aren't interested in her?"
"Interested? You mean, like, do I like her? No." He looked, if anything, slightly puzzled, as though it were a mystery why she would ask.
"Does Marcus like her?"
"They're sort of friends, I guess. At school sometimes she talks to us."
Take the plunge, Andy. "Marcus looked nice tonight."
"He was wearing a new suit."
"If Marcus and Eileen started to spend more time together, would you be okay with that?"
"You mean, together? Like...if they started dating?" Jason's eyebrows went up temporarily. "Well, I guess... Come on, Mom, Marcus wouldn't start hanging out with some girl. And not Eileen, he's not interested in her, not like that."
"Why not? She's a lovely girl."
"What, you want him to like her?"
"I want you to like her. Tell me why you don't."
Jason frowned. "I just don't. She's sort of smart, and sort of nice, and she can be fun sometimes, and I guess she's pretty if you care, but... I don't care."
"Marcus is smart and nice and fun."
"Totally. He's the smartest person I know, besides me. He's a ton of fun."
"Who's your best friend?"
"Quincy was. And there's Keith. You mean homo sapiens sapiens. Marcus. Mom, you know that."
"Jason, you know that you can tell me anything. I try to listen and understand."
"I know. Are you okay? You're asking all sorts of really weird questions."
"I'm okay. Go up to bed."
"Okay. Good night, Mom."
Andy had tried to dig for information, but she was getting nowhere, and she'd only succeeded in making Jason suspicious. He wasn't interested in girls, which could be temporary or just his personality. Or, he could be gay. In which case, either he didn't know it or he was keeping it from her on purpose. Jason, for all of his knowledge and brain power, tended to be clueless about the personal and interpersonal.
Saturday, of course, Jason and Marcus spent the entire morning, afternoon, and evening together, outside and inside of both of their homes. They talked and played games and worked on their homework together. They bonded with their televisions, their computers, each other, and Keith. Breakfast at Jason's, lunch at Marcus', dinner at Jason's, dessert at Marcus'.
Jason sat on his bed and looked down to where Marcus was lying comfortably on his floor. "You like Eileen?"
"Sure," Marcus said.
"No, I mean, do you like her? Are you interested in her? As a girl?"
Marcus sat up, both perplexed and surprised. "No. Why?"
"My mom was asking me about it. Whether I liked her, whether you liked her. My mom wants me to like Eileen."
"But you don't like Eileen. Do you?"
"Of course not."
"There's nothing wrong with her, Jason."
"Then why don't you like her?"
"I just don't. I think that she'd make a good friend. Not like you or Keith or anything, but she's smart and she's nice. She's the smartest person in our class, except for us."
"You think she's pretty?"
"Sure. Don't you?"
"I guess. Some of the guys, I heard them talking, and they liked Eileen. They wanted to go out with her. Make out with her."
"So? You don't want to, so why do you care?"
"Shouldn't we want to?"
"Why?"
"If she's smart and nice and pretty, why aren't we interested in her?"
"She's our friend. You can't be interested in your friends."
"Why not?"
"Look at Mulder and Scully. They're just friends."
"That's because Mulder's..." Jason swallowed.
"You're blushing." Marcus seemed awed. "You never blush. Mulder's what?"
Jason slid off of the bed and sat on the floor, back to the bed, knees to his chest, plucking at the carpet with nervous fingers.
"Jason. They're just friends because Mulder's what?"
"In love with Krycek."
"Kry... Alex Krycek?"
"It's like Jim and Blair. All of the shows we watch, all of the movies - - 'The X-Files,' 'The Sentinel,' Star Wars, 'Star Trek,' 'Highlander,' 'Buffy,' 'Angel,' 'Roswell,' The Matrix, even 'The Invisible Man' - - they all have gay men, they're all in love with each other."
"Jim and Blair?" Marcus repeated. "Jason, where do you get this stuff?"
"Don't you watch? Don't you pay attention? Can't you see it?"
"Is that why you don't like Eileen?"
"What?" Jason's head shot up; he stared at Marcus.
"Are you gay?"
"Marcus! I'm your best friend! It's me, Jason Fox!"
"I know. Are you gay?"
"You've known me forever."
"Are you gay?"
"No! No way. Not me."
"Jason, you don't like girls."
"Maybe I'm asexual."
"You're going to reproduce by yourself?" Marcus smiled. "That sounds like you. Never take the easy way out, find some complex and difficult scientific response."
"You're no different."
"No. I'm not. Come on, 'The Pretender''s on in a couple of minutes. Hey, are they all gay, too?"
Jason and Marcus didn't bring up the subject again. For his part, Jason kept thinking about it. His natural curiosity and scientific mind wouldn't let him stop questioning. He'd come upon a problem and found a hypothesis. Now he needed to test his hypothesis.
He thought about the people on TV. He liked the men more than the women. But that was only natural, considering the characters. Jim and Blair were a lot more interesting than Megan. Who cared about Tessa when Richie was around, or about Amanda when Methos was there? Mulder was more in tune with him than Scully was, and Krycek was just kick-butt awesome. Who wouldn't prefer Darth Maul or Obi-Wan Kenobi to Queen Amidala or Shmi?
And of course he liked Marcus more than he liked Eileen. Marcus was his best friend. Marcus had cool stuff and cool ideas. They always got along well, they shared interests, they thought alike.
The next Friday, they left school and went immediately to the Star Wars store. They bought as many collectibles as they could, then took them to Jason's bedroom and sat around admiring their purchases. Marcus spent the night.
In the morning, Jason got up and stepped over Marcus, heading for the bathroom. He peed and came back, running a hand through his hair and putting on his glasses. He sat on the floor beside Marcus' sleeping bag and shook Marcus' shoulder. Marcus rolled over to one side, facing him, still asleep.
Marcus was impossible to waken. He claimed that it came from years of conditioning, since he had to learn to sleep through his three sisters running around giggling and whining and running the hairdryer incessantly, not to mention pestering him every three seconds. Jason laid on one side, propped on an elbow, left hand reaching out to tap Marcus' nose.
Tap tap.
Twitch.
Tap tap.
Twitch.
Tap tap.
Marcus buried his face in his pillow.
Jason tugged on Marcus' short black hair.
Marcus reached back, grabbed Jason's hand, laced their fingers, and jerked Jason's hand around and underneath his chest, immobilizing the irritation. He went back to sleep. Jason, hand trapped under Marcus' chest, squeezed Marcus' fingers and tried to pull free. Marcus held on stubbornly and kept sleeping. "Marcus. Marcus." No response. Jason sighed and scooted closer, resting his cheek against the sleeping bag for comfort, eyes closing.
Andy peeked into Jason's room an hour later, to check if they were coming down for breakfast. Her first thought was that Jason shouldn't sleep in his glasses. Her second thought was that she and Roger would be having a long talk tonight.
Jason was pressed up against Marcus, full-body contact, chest-to-chest, stomach-to-stomach, thigh-to-thigh. The only barrier was the sleeping bag, which was caught between them and wrapped around Marcus. Jason's left hand was resting on Marcus' right hip.
Andy backed away, closing the door again.
Minutes later, blue eyes shot open.
Marcus swallowed.
"If I were allowed to curse, I'd do it now," Jason said.
"Jason."
"What?"
Marcus' eyes closed. He leaned forward and whispered in Jason's ear. "I came in your sleeping bag."
Jason's eyes closed, too.
Marcus' right hand still was out of the sleeping bag. Now it settled between Jason's shoulder blades. Slid down a little. Caressed its way down Jason's slender back, stroked over to Jason's hip, burrowed between Jason's thighs. Jason's breath caught. Marcus shuddered. Jason buried his face in Marcus' neck, thighs spreading, hips tilting. Marcus' hand was fondling and rubbing and pulling and it was exciting and forbidden and erotic and more arousing than anything Jason had ever imagined, and he came in his boxers. Marcus' hand left him; Marcus' arm wrapped around his waist, holding him close.
Jason woke up hard all of the time. And, sure, he'd jerked off before, because it felt fantastic. But he'd never had anybody else touch him there, and he hadn't realized what a difference it made. Now, suddenly, he wanted Marcus to do that again. Many times. And not through his boxers, but right on him, Marcus' hand naked on his flesh.
"Jason, this is getting pretty gross," Marcus said.
"Yeah. You want breakfast?"
"Yeah."
When the boys came down to the kitchen, Andy watched them carefully. They seemed unchanged. Which meant either that they'd been closer than usual for some time now, or that it had been their first time but that they saw nothing unusual about it. She wasn't sure which was worse. Both suggested that Jason and Marcus saw nothing inherently wrong with their behavior; she knew Jason, and if he were feeling guilty she'd pick up on it. She was glad; she didn't want him to feel guilty.
She didn't know why she worried. They'd been sleeping on the floor together; nothing bad about it. Maybe Jason had gravitated toward a warm spot, a heat source. Nothing to make her concerned.
Wednesday evening as Andy was in the study writing her column on the computer, Paige ran in and said, "Mom, have you seen Jason?"
"He's in his room."
"Have you looked at him?"
"He's wearing his-"
"His neck."
"What's wrong with his neck?" She turned away from the monitor, frowning up at Paige.
Paige was chortling with glee. "Jason has a hickey. A love bite, Mom. On his neck. He's been making out with somebody. You think it's Eileen?"
"Oh dear lord I hope so." Andy leaned her elbows on either side of the keyboard and put her face in her hands. "Could you ask him to come in here, please?"
Paige walked out, chortling anew.
Jason wandered in momentarily. "Hey, Mom. You need help with the computer?"
She straightened and turned her chair to face him. She reached for the neckline of his T-shirt with one hand, pulling it aside. There, on his left side, right above the collarbone. "What's this?"
"A bruise." Jason shrugged, uncomfortable, dislodging her hand.
"Sweetie, I want you to tell me the truth."
"The truth?"
"It seems to me like-"
"'Seems, madam? Nay, it is. I know not "seems."'"
"Jason."
"What do you think it is?"
"I think that it's a love bite. Is it?"
"Maybe."
"Where'd you get it?"
"In my bedroom."
"From whom?"
"Why?"
"Because if you're engaging in sexual activities in your bedroom, I want to know when and with whom and why, so that I can monitor this behavior in the future. Tell me who did this to you."
"Marcus." Jason's gaze dropped to his feet.
"Last night?"
"Yeah."
"I thought that you two were doing homework."
"We finished early."
"Have you two kissed before this?"
"No."
"Jason, you know that you're not allowed to do that in your room. You may continue to have Marcus over, but you leave the door open at all times."
"You're not mad?"
"I wish you'd told me about this without an interrogation. Now, you know the house rules from when your brother and sister started dating, and I expect you to follow them. As for sleepovers, I'll have to think about it. Does Marcus' mother know?"
"Yeah."
"He told her?"
"She saw... His hickeys are more prominent than mine is."
"You gave him more than one?"
"Only two," Jason muttered at the floor.
"All right." Andy pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know about safe sexual practices. We've discussed abstinence. You know exactly where I stand on those issues. When Marcus comes over, I want your bedroom door open at all times, as I've said. I'd appreciate it also if you could spend most of your time together downstairs, in the kitchen or living room. If his mother lets him sleep over again, I'd like you to sleep in the living room."
"Okay."
"I'm going to have to talk with your father. And, most likely, with Marcus' parents."
"Okay."
Andy stood and hugged him. "I love you, Jason."
"Yeah, I love you too, Mom. Can I get back to my homework now?"
"Go ahead."
"Thanks, Mom."
Either she was seeing things, or those had been tears brimming in those pretty blue eyes.
Paige was staring. Peter's jaw was on the floor. Andy sighed. Roger was fidgeting with his coffee cup.
"Jason?" Paige asked, finally. "Our little brother Jason? He's...gay? Gay as in gay?"
"You're sure this isn't just Jason being weird again?" Peter asked.
"Jason is gay," Andy said. "His hickey is from Marcus. I don't know whether they're, I detest this term, experimenting. Considering how close they are, I imagine that they're not only experimenting."
"You mean Jason is in love with Marcus," Paige said. "Well, they were made for each other."
"Now what?" Peter asked.
"I don't expect you to do anything," Andy said. "I just thought that I should tell you now so that you have time to adjust to the idea."
"So we're just accepting this as another part of Jason?" Paige asked. "I have to admit, it's a lot easier to handle than some of the rest of the stuff he does."
"Are we supposed to be good liberal people and embrace Jason wholeheartedly, not seeing anything negative?" Peter asked. "I mean, Mom, he's gay. There are millions of people who'd love to discriminate against him, hate him, change him, even kill him for it."
"And not one of those people lives in this house," Andy said. "This is another thing that makes Jason different from the rest of us, not something bad, not anything that detracts from how special and wonderful he is."
"Are we allowed to tease him about it?" Paige asked.
"If you don't, he'll think that something's wrong," Andy said.
Jason walked into the house an hour later.
"Back from Marcus'?" Paige asked, rising from the sofa.
"Yeah." He slipped off his backpack, unbuttoned his coat.
"And how is your Snoogy Woogums?" Paige asked.
"What?"
"How is your Cuddly Snugglebunny today?" Paige asked. "And how's that hickey on your neck healing? Did he give you another one? Or is it somewhere indecent?"
"Paige!" Jason exclaimed. "Gross! Get away from me."
"Mom told us all about how you're finally getting some suck-face. Took you long enough. Most people are married with kids by now, and you're-"
"Married with kids at sixteen?"
"Well, not in this neighborhood."
"You're just jealous. You didn't have a boyfriend until you were eighteen."
"He's your boyfriend?"
"Well, sort of."
"What's a sort of boyfriend?"
"Look, we haven't talked about that yet, all right?"
"Right. It's hard to talk when you have someone else's tongue in your mouth."
"Like you'd know." Jason went upstairs.
Friday night, Paige hurried into the kitchen. "Mom, make them stop."
"Make whom stop?" Andy asked, filling in her crossword puzzle.
"Jason and Marcus."
"What are they doing now?"
"Tongue-kissing on the sofa!"
"In the middle of their show?"
"They're taping it."
"Jason!" Andy yelled. "Stop that right now!"
Breathless whispers and giggles. "Sorry, Mom!" Jason called.
"Peter and Denise weren't this bad," Paige muttered.
"Peter and Denise made out at Denise's house," Andy said.
"So can't they use Marcus' house?" Paige asked.
"Jason!" Marcus shrieked.
"If you weren't so ticklish-" Jason said.
"Your mom told us to stop." Marcus moaned softly.
"Jason!" Andy shouted.
"Sorry, Mom."
"Don't make me send Marcus home," Andy warned.
"I'll behave," Jason promised. Marcus giggled.
"I guess it makes sense," Paige said, sighing. "I remember how horny Peter was at sixteen. Multiply that by two, you get-"
"Jason!" Marcus shrieked.
"Not to mention adding Jason's personality to the mix," Andy said, standing. She braced herself and walked into the living room. Marcus and Jason were sitting on the sofa, Jason licking Marcus' ear, Marcus squirming to escape. "Jason!"
In a split second, they were sitting primly, staring at the TV screen, eyes wide, a foot between them on the sofa. Andy picked up a book and sat in the armchair, sighing.
By the end of the show, Jason and Marcus were curled up together on the sofa. They started to talk, turning off the TV. Finally it was time for Marcus to go home.
"I've gotta go."
"Come back tomorrow," Jason said as they stood.
"Sure." They walked to the front door. Andy kept her eyes on her book. She heard murmurs and giggles and a soft moan. A thud as - - she peeked up - - Marcus' back hit the door. She coughed.
"I have to go," Marcus said, or that's what it sounded like he was trying to say around Jason's tongue.
"Bye," Jason said, diving in for another kiss.
"See you tomorrow, my cuddly snugglebunny."
"Go!" Jason said, breaking away, pointing to the door.
Marcus laughed. "Later."
One quick kiss, then another, and Marcus left.