Achilles is used to a life with rules and structure. Being attracted to men doesn't fit into what he considers structured. But he's used to burying things deep down, and this is just another item on the list.
Xander crosses into his life, and he's...
"Does my outfit scream casual gay but not too gay?" I said, modelling my third outfit for Achilles. This one was an orange, long sleeved shirt with a pale blue collar and dark jeans. "Do I look like an orange safety cone? Be honest."
Xander's outfit —
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Achilles groaned, "Your potroast is going to burn if you're spending all this time changing. Everything you wear looks fine." Achilles was wearing a short sleeved light blue shirt and dark blue jeans. I'd chosen the outfit for him because I liked the way it made his arms look.
Achilles' shirt probably, maybe more form fitting around the biceps, and darker jeans obviously. —
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He didn't seem excited or apprehensive about dinner, only resigned. That didn't mean Achilles didn't do his due diligence by inviting his family to dinner. It had been almost a month since he came out to his family and pack. Coming out looked good on Achilles, he was a bit more thoughtful and less paranoid. Always greeting me with a hug and a kiss on date night no matter who was around or where we were. It was like he'd finally stopped looking over his shoulder.
But, I saw the old tenseness return around his eyes as the seconds ticked closer to dinner. I'd spent all morning cleaning and making the dining table. My mother came over in the afternoon to help me cook since Achilles was essentially useless in the kitchen. I didn't want to hurt his feelings so I asked him to perform any other number of tasks.
Achilles meeting my mother had gone okay. He'd seemed nervous, not sure how to approach her. I liked to think I got my beauty from my mother. Her skin was dark and deep, smooth and seamless broken up by her high cheekbones, small nose and full lips. She was small, only coming up to around my shoulder and kept her scalp bald. Even without hair no one could mistake her features for anything other than feminine. She wore a yellow sleeveless summer dress, that made her dark skin especially stand out.
She smiled when meeting Achilles, reaching out a hand, "My son's lover, nice to meet you. Dating a third of a year and I'm only meeting you now." My mother's voice seemed to surprise Achilles and I realized it was probably because we both had that distinct rasp.
