“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Gareth asked Tim as he rang the doorbell. Tim’s eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and his hair was messier than usual.

“N-naw, I’m okay. Right as rain!” He forced a grin to Gareth, who just looked at him skeptically.

“You don’t seem okay,”

“Pssh, you’re a loon. Of course I’m okay! It’s only dinner with my parents…” Tim spaced out with a horrified look as he imagined everything that could and most likely WOULD go wrong.

The door opened with a slight squeak and both men snapped to attention. A stout woman in a dark floral dress and a dark blue shawl draped around her shoulders answered the door, Gareth could only assume it was Tim’s mum. Her hair was dark brown, much like Tim’s except much wavier and longer. She was wearing big emerald earrings and a matching necklace, but surprisingly, only one ring on her hands.

“Tim!” She squealed, embracing her son as if he had just come home from the army. Tim let out a strained whimper of pain as he sheepishly hugged his mother back. She suddenly broke the hug and planted a big kiss on his cheek, effectively getting her dark lipstick stained on his skin. “Oh it seems like ages! How have you been?”

“Erm fine, mum. Uh… this is Gareth, my friend I told you about,” He blushed and looked at his feet as Gareth stuck out his hand to greet her.

“Hello Mrs. Canterbury,” He said with a smile. Tim thanked the gods that Gareth didn’t introduce himself in the way he normally did, trying to earn the other person’s respect right off the bat. Suddenly, Mrs. Canterbury slapped away Gareth’s hand and embraced him in a bone breaking hug as well.

“No hand shakes here, luv, only hugs,” She gave him a last squeeze and led both the men inside. “Tim, I’m so glad you decided to have dinner with us. We’ve been missing you so much since you moved out. You two are roommates, yes?” She looked back at them. Gareth nodded happily while Tim just twirled a lock of his hair and stared at the ground.

Tim’s mum led them into the dining room, a dark red room with a small chandelier hanging above the polished mahogany table. There was a long side table paced against the wall that Gareth guessed must store the good china and maybe a table cloth or two. On top of that was a bowl with fruit in it.

Gareth wandered over to it inconspicuously and grabbed a healthy-looking pear. He took a bite of it and froze when he heard Mrs. Canterbury’s voice.

“Luv, do you always munch on fake fruit before dinner?” Gareth’s jaw dropped and the bite of wax fell into his hand.

“Not usually, no,” He muttered and placed the wax pear back with the other replicas. He saw Tim groan and fist his own hair out of embarrassment. Gareth glared half-heartedly at Tim but quickly got over his annoyance.

A man walked into the scene; he was a bit taller than Mrs. Canterbury and Tim but not by much. He had a similar haircut to Tim’s and was wearing a green and white rugby shirt with a large 05 on it. Mrs. Canterbury glared steadily at him.

“Dear, do you really have to wear that thing to the table?”

“You never said I couldn’t,” He answered with a somewhat smug smile. She sighed and shook her head. “Hey, Timmy. Glad to see you around these parts again,” He high-fived his son and gave him a warm smile. “Who’s this bloke?” He turned to Gareth.

“Dad, this is Gareth Keenan. He used to work with me at Wernham-Hogg,”

“Oh that’s right, you told me about this nutter. Fun to wind up, as it were,” He gave Gareth a pat on his left shoulder. “Only joking, lad. Well, mostly, that is,”

“I see where you got your resounding sense of humor,” Gareth said dryly to Tim. He grimaced.

“Damn right he got it from me. Where would this gimp be without the funnies, eh?” Mr. Canterbury stuck out his tongue slightly and smiled. Mrs. Canterbury cleared her throat noisily and suddenly, the three men were aware of the enormous amount of food that magically “appeared” on the table.

“Dig in,”

--

“So…” Mrs. Canterbury said as she placed the last of the dishes in the washing machine. “You boys haven’t said a thing all night. I know I’m a good cook-”

“Cough, cough,” Mr. Canterbury smirked. Mrs. Canterbury shot a glare at him.

“-but no body goes through a dinner with no conversation. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s the matter, mum. Are those new earrings?” Tim tried desperately to get the subject off himself by discussing his mother’s favourite jewelry.

“Nice try, but no. Gareth, I haven’t heard a thing about you,” She smiled warmly and sipped her glass of red wine. Gareth looked down to his own glass and thumbed the rim of it. “Where were you born?”

“I was born in Kent and my family moved to Dartford a short time after that. I lived there until I was eighteen and moved out of my parents’ house and to my own place. Tim only moved in when we…” Gareth snapped his mouth shut and looked at Tim’s parents with wide, embarrassed eyes.

“When you what, luv?” Mrs. Canterbury asked sweetly. Mr. Canterbury was sniggering to himself and looking at the ceiling. “You know something I don’t?”

“Course not, dear. Nothing at all,” He smiled at her and cocked his head to the side.

“Nuh-uh. I know that look. You know something and won’t tell me. What is it?” Mr. Canterbury looked over to the two boys, his son hanging his head in shame and Gareth’s eyes darker than before. He shook his head and looked back to his wife.

“They’re gay, dear,” He took a sip of his wine as everyone gawked at him.

“WHAT?!” All three screamed at him. He smiled.

“She was going to find out either way, lads. Might as well do it when you’ve brought your lover over to meet us,”

Mrs. Canterbury looked at the two of them, both of them hiding their faces in their hands.

“Hmm… so you’re fucking my son, yeah?” Gareth’s head shot up, as did Tim’s.

“No!” Gareth squeaked, at the same time Tim said, “Mum!!”

“Just wondering who’s on top then,” She took another sip of her wine, fidgeting with her ring.

“Well, of course it’s Tim. No offense, Gareth, but you don’t seem like much of a topper to me,” Mr. Canterbury said uneasily. Gareth nodded and stared at the floor, wondering how this could get any more uncomfortable.

“How are you two planning on reproducing?” And there it was: the one question to make Gareth more uncomfortable than he had ever been in his life.

“Well…” Gareth cleared his throat nervously, “I’m no woman so… I don’t think we are,”

“Oh really?” She quipped at him, making him whimper and tense his shoulders, “Because you look so feminine and thin… it’s a complement, dear,”

“Mum… please…” Tim pleaded, his ears turning red from embarrassment.

“What, an old woman can’t still have hope for her gay son to have a grandchild?” She looked at him, daring him to say anything to contradict her. Tim simply hid his face behind his hands once more.

“We…we could adopt…” Gareth mumbled pathetically.

“That’s true,” Both parents agreed. Neither of the boys thought Tim’s dad was even paying attention anymore.

“No… not right now… I mean… we’re not even thinking about anything that serious…”

“Tick, tick, tick, Timmy. Time’s running out. Who wants to be in their late forties and raising a newborn? Hmm?” She cocked her head to the side.

“Mum… I’m thirty,” He glowered at her. Tim couldn’t help but notice Gareth staring off into space and smiling slightly.

“Maddie, lay off the kid, eh? He’ll work it out, he always does,” Mr. Canterbury smiled and patted her shoulder lightly. He glared at him.

“You never wanted grandchildren, did you?” She nearly growled. He retracted his hand immediately, out of instinct. Their little spat continued for a few minutes, but nothing serious.

“I’m really sorry about this…” Tim apologized to Gareth, who was still smiling for some reason.

“Don’t be. I love these family moments. Better than anything at my house, anyway,” Gareth smiled a bit bigger, unaffected by his own comment.

“You know what? I don’t care, get the bloody weedeater for all I care,” Maddie sighed and took a deep swig of her wine. “But what about the two of you?” She turned back to her son and his apparent lover. The two tensed up out of fear.

“Um… C-can I go use the bathroom?” Gareth whimpered pathetically, not only seeking escape from this apparently menopausal woman, but he really needed to go.

“No,” She replied bluntly. Gareth whimpered again and tried not to think of any matter of liquid or anything related to liquid. It was very unfortunate that he was holding a glass of wine.

Gareth looked around the home, trying to decide which way would be easiest to escape from, if it were necessary. He was extremely aware of the fact Tim’s mother’s eyes were glaring at him intensely and Gareth immediately thanked god that looks couldn’t kill.

“Mum, I brought Gareth hear so you could meet him… not kill him,” Tim sighed and tried to reason with his mother.

“Fine. I’ll meet him,” She sneered mildly and turned to Gareth, “So what’s my son like in the sack?”

Both Gareth and Tim became bright red, eyes growing wide. Mr. Canterbury was on the side-lines, of course, laughing hysterically.

“Um… he’s… q… quite… g… good?” Gareth forced out, his palms beginning to sweat. This was a difficult situation: he had to let her know her son was a good lover but not too much to the point where she got the idea that it was the only thing he ever thought about. “I really have to go to the bathr-”

“Tut, tut, tut… you’re not going anywhere, young man,” Truth be told, Gareth liked it better when she called him ‘luv’.

“…Please?”

“No,”

“Mum, if you just let him go use the bathroom, he’ll come back and answer all your questions,” Tim reasoned. Gareth looked at him with horror.

“All of them?” Gareth’s voice cracked. Tim nodded.

“Fine,” Mrs. Canterbury sighed. With that permission, Gareth took off down the hallway, running at light-speed.

“Dear lord, woman. What’s gotten into you?” Mr. Canterbury questioned. Mrs. Canterbury stared at him blankly, and that turned out to be far more frightening then if she started to yell at him.

“Not smart, dad… just not smart,” Tim sighed, silently praying to the ceiling. Gareth returned after a moment, actually looking a bit happier as he sat down in his place next to Tim.

“How did you two meet, exactly?”

“Mum, you know… he worked with me at Wernham Hogg,” Tim relaxed for the first time, glad the questions were getting less invasive.

“I was Team Leader,” Gareth declared proudly. Tim glared at him.

“This information is useless, Gareth,” Tim said dryly.

“So?”

“Oh, looking for every bit of authority you get, yeah?” Mrs. Canterbury accused. Gareth’s head turned so violently, Tim was sure he would develop whip-lash.

“I don’t think so…” He whimpered, adverting his eyes to the floor.

“Um… he’s Assistant Regional Manager!” Tim tried to make it seem like Gareth was a much more impressive man then he was.

“To the…” Gareth sighed. Something about this woman stripped him of all his self-confidence.

“Dear god, not now!” Tim begged.

“And how did you discover you were… fancying each other?” Mrs. Canterbury looked at them over the glass of her wine, freshly filled back up.

“Me mum died,” Gareth stated bluntly. Everything seemed to come to a screeching halt, the only sound was Mrs. Canterbury slightly choking on her wine. The silence stretched out for an uncomfortable amount of time, neither party knowing what to say.

“So…” Mrs. Canterbury attempted to change the subject, “Have you two been on a real date or just shaking up every other minute?” Mr. Canterbury snorted up some of his wine.

“MUM!!” Tim nearly screamed out of indignity. Gareth blushed to his roots and stared at his feet.

“It usually takes about an hour, anyway…” He mumbled, barely audible. Somehow, Mrs. Canterbury picked it up.

“What now?”

“GARETH!!” Tim whined and screamed at the same time. Mr. Canterbury snickered at the laughable event this night turned out to be.

“He’s taken me on dates before…” Gareth sighed.

“Where to?” Mrs. Canterbury could tell when people were lying, she just loved catching them.

“…Chaser’s…” He replied. That was really the only place Tim had taken him, if you didn’t count that whole camping fiasco.

“Tim’s never been a real imaginative one, anyway,” Mr. Canterbury said. He chuckled at the astonished look on his son’s face.

--

The night went on to be embarrassing, only for Tim, really. His mother seemed to be fixed on telling every single story about when he was a child, the things he would do. His father just spoke of random embarrassing facts about him, like the fact he tried for T-ball when he was four and didn’t make the team.

They left around 11:30, after severe damage had been done to Tim’s psyche.

“Bye, Tim. Do come back for another visit,” His mother hugged him good-bye and patted Gareth on the shoulder “We enjoyed having you too, Gareth,”

They walked to the car in silence, Tim utterly mortified. Gareth whistled to himself as he sat in the passenger’s seat. He looked at Tim, who had his head down and was gripping the wheel enough to make his hands hurt.

“You okay, Tim-Tim?” Gareth laid his hand on Tim’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Tim’s head shot up and he smiled a deranged smirk.

“But of COURSE I’m okay! I just had the most embarrassing, mortifying, and utterly humiliating dinner with my parents and my boyfriend! What could possibly go wrong?!” Tim hit his head against the rims of the driving wheel several times; Gareth just watched.

“I had fun…” Gareth offered. Tim looked up at him like he was crazy.

Gareth leaned in and gave Tim a soft, warm kiss. He could feel Tim relax as the kiss lingered for a couple extra moments, before pulling away.

“Would angry, kinky sex make you feel better?” Gareth smiled seductively. Tim was about to accept before thinking back to his mother’s previous words:

“Hmm… so you’re fucking my son, yeah?”

“Just wondering who’s on top then,”

“How are you two planning on reproducing?”

“I don’t think we should have sex for a few days…” Tim grimaced at the road.