Saturday mornings at the Blackwood estate were usually a sanctuary of silence. Damon cherished these few hours before the social obligations of the weekend kicked in. He would sit in his library with a stark black coffee and the financial review, enjoying the stillness.
Today, however, the sanctuary had been breached.
Laughter—bright, youthful, and gratingly loud—echoed from the living room down the hall.
Damon tried to ignore it. He turned the page of his newspaper, forcing his eyes to focus on the market trends.
Giggle. Thud. "Stop it, Kyle!"
Damon lowered the paper. His jaw tightened. He knew Leo had asked if a classmate could come over to study for their upcoming Economics midterm. Damon had agreed absentmindedly on Thursday, too focused on his work to process the request.
Now, he regretted it.
He stood up, abandoning his coffee. He told himself he was just going to get a glass of water. He definitely wasn't going to check on them. He wasn't a helicopter parent.
He walked down the hallway, his socks silent on the plush runner.
The scene in the living room stopped him in the doorway.
Leo was sitting on the floor by the coffee table, surrounded by textbooks and highlighted notes. He was wearing oversized reading glasses that made him look impossibly endearing, and his hair was pulled back with a small clip.
Next to him—too close to him—sat a boy.
Kyle was everything Damon wasn't. Young, blonde, with a varsity jacket draped over his shoulders and a goofy, open grin. He was leaning over Leo's shoulder, pointing at a graph in the textbook.
"See? The supply curve shifts here," Kyle said. As he pointed, his arm brushed against Leo's back. He didn't pull away.
Damon felt a sharp, irrational spike of annoyance in his chest. It was hot and sudden, like a match struck in a dry room.
"Working hard?" Damon asked, his voice booming slightly in the large room.
Kyle jumped, scrambling to sit up straight. He looked at Damon with wide, terrified eyes. Damon knew exactly what the boy saw: a six-foot-two CEO looming in the doorway, radiating disapproval.
"M-Mr. Blackwood!" Kyle stammered. "Hi. Yes, sir. Just... supply and demand."
Leo looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose. He smiled, but there was a flicker of something calculating in his eyes.
"Hi, Damon," Leo said. "Did we disturb you? Kyle was just explaining elasticity to me."
"I can hear the elasticity from the library," Damon said dryly. He walked into the room, crossing his arms. He didn't leave. He stood there, watching them.
"Sorry, sir," Kyle squeaked. He shifted away from Leo, putting a solid foot of distance between them. "I'll keep it down."
"See that you do," Damon said.
He should have walked away then. He had made his point. But his eyes were drawn to a paper cup sitting on a coaster next to Leo. It was from a cheap campus coffee shop.
"Is that coffee?" Damon asked.
"Oh, yeah," Leo said, picking it up. "Kyle brought it for me. Vanilla latte. It was really sweet of him."
Leo smiled at Kyle—a soft, grateful expression that made Damon's stomach turn.
'He brought him coffee,' Damon thought bitterly. 'Cheap, sugary sludge.'
"You shouldn't drink that on an empty stomach," Damon criticized, his tone sharper than necessary. "It's just sugar and caffeine. You'll crash."
"I'm fine, Dad," Leo said, his voice dipping into that sweet, submissive register he reserved for Damon. "But thanks for worrying."
Kyle looked between them, sensing the tension but unable to decode it. "Uh, Leo? Maybe we should finish this chapter later? I kinda forgot I promised my mom I'd... help with the garage."
It was a blatant lie. The kid was terrified.
"Oh," Leo pouted, looking disappointed. "Are you sure? We were just getting into the groove."
"Yeah, totally. I gotta run." Kyle shoved his books into his bag with frantic speed. He stood up, nodding nervously at Damon. "Nice meeting you, sir. Great house."
"Goodbye, Kyle," Damon said, not moving an inch.
He watched the boy practically sprint to the front door. The latch clicked, and then: silence.
Damon stood there, feeling foolish. He had just bullied a college student out of his own house.
"Well," Leo sighed, closing his textbook. "That was short."
Damon looked down at him. "He seemed... unfocused."
"He's okay," Leo shrugged. He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. The movement pulled his shirt up, exposing a strip of pale skin at his waist. Damon looked away instantly. "He's top of the class. I thought it would be good to have a study partner."
"You have me," Damon blurted out.
Leo paused mid-stretch. He lowered his arms slowly, turning to look at Damon.
"What?"
"I know economics, Leo," Damon said, feeling defensive. "I run a logistics firm. If you need help with supply curves, you don't need a... Kyle."
Leo's lips curved into a slow, delighted smile. He walked over to Damon, stepping into his personal space.
"You're right," Leo whispered. "You're much smarter than Kyle. And much more intimidating. I think you scared him off."
"I didn't scare him," Damon lied. "I just asked for quiet."
"You were protecting your territory," Leo teased softly.
Damon stiffened. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm hungry," Leo announced suddenly, changing the subject before Damon could spiral. "I'm going to make a sandwich. Want one?"
"Sure," Damon muttered. "Turkey."
"Turkey and Swiss, coming right up."
Leo grabbed the paper cup Kyle had brought him—the 'sweet' vanilla latte—and walked into the kitchen.
Damon watched him go, then sighed, retreating back to his library. He felt victorious, though he wasn't sure what battle he had just fought.
In the kitchen, Leo stood over the sink.
The smile vanished from his face, replaced by a look of cold disgust.
He popped the lid off the latte. He hadn't taken a single sip.
"Vanilla latte," Leo scoffed, looking at the beige liquid. "Basic."
He poured the entire drink down the drain, watching it swirl away. He turned on the tap, rinsing the cup aggressively, scrubbing his hands as if the mere act of holding Kyle's gift had contaminated him.
Kyle was useful. Kyle made Damon jealous. But Kyle was nothing.
Leo dried his hands on a towel, staring at his reflection in the dark window above the sink.
"He wants to be my study partner," Leo whispered, a dark giggle bubbling up in his throat. "Careful what you wish for, Daddy. I'm a very hands-on learner."
He tossed the empty cup into the trash, burying it deep under the other garbage so Damon wouldn't see it. Then, he pulled out the turkey and cheese, humming a happy tune, ready to make the perfect sandwich for the only man who mattered.