WIP

When Marco returned home that evening, with wild fantasies of Jackie's legs dashing through his head, he found the house quiet. He lazily slumped his bag at the door and walked into the kitchen. As he opened the refrigerator, he jumped back in fright as the light inside revealed his father, his hulking frame rested upon the dining table, nursing a beer in his left hand.

"Hello, son," he said quietly, bags under his eyes. "I didn't think you'd be home this late."

"O-Oh, hey Dad. Just, yeah, we kinda got, uh, carried away at the park."

His father chuckled softly, and got up from the table. Walking over to the fridge, he got out a second beer, his thick thumb popping off the cap with ease. Handing the beer to Marco, he nudged him into the chair opposite his. Marco looked at the bottle with questioning eyes, until his father's throat clearing caught his attention.

"Marco, there comes a time when a father must talk with his son."

'Oh god it's gonna be the awkward sex talk, isn't it?' Marco thought to himself.

"Dad?"

"Yes, son?"

"I know."

There was a long, screaming silence in the room, before Marco's father burst out laughing, his loud guffaws booming in the quiet house. Marco chuckled awkwardly in response, the sight of his father doubled over, howling in mirth scaring him slightly. Dropping his bulk into his chair, Rafael held his head in his hand, tears streaming down his red face, gasping for air between laughs. Marco quietly took a sip of beer and swilled it around in his mouth, neither enjoying or disliking the foreign taste. Rafael calmed down enough to look at Marco again, and became suddenly more uptight, as if reminded of an important task.

"Well, that's one conversation I'm glad I don't have to have with you," Rafael said, wiping away his tears

"No kidding," Marco replied. "But why was it so funny?"

"Marco, I've spent the last half hour trying to figure out how I could talk to you about such a matter. It's just funny that you already know. Every parent has to worry about that one. You will too, one day." Rafael said this last bit with a smile that Marco found unnerving.

"...Huh," Marco uttered out, the idea of fatherhood striking him as surprisingly not-unpleasant.

"But," Rafael started, "It doesn't change the fact that I know you skipped today."

Marco's skin felt cold as ice instantly as he beheld his father's knowing gaze boring into him. "H-How d-"

"Star couldn't stop talking about your little lunchtime stroll with your new lady friend. She was so excited, I thought she was going to pass out, honestly."

Marco, cornered by his father, said nothing, awaiting his inevitable punishment.

"Tell me."

Marco looked up. "What?"

"Tell me about your date. I want to hear how my son is handling himself with women."

Marco gawked at his father as the man knocked back the last of his beer, setting aside the bottle. Folding his arms, Rafael leaned his form against the table and looked at him expectantly.

"Well? I'm waiting."

Marco sighed. "Fine."

---

After recounting the events of the roller rink and the toolshed to his father, Marco leaned back in his chair, his face red as his father gazed at the ceiling, immersed in thought.

"We're going to the movies tomorrow," Marco said, feeling that he needed to be completely honest. His father said nothing, engrossed in his thinking.

'Never thought I'd end up like this,' Marco thought to himself. 'I don't want to know what he's planning.'

After a solid half minute of silence, Marco's drifting eyes snapped back to his father as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Despite his best efforts, Marco couldn't make out what Rafael produced from the leather folds.

"Hold out your hand, son," Rafael said, a hard, heavy tone to his voice, as if making a sacrifice.

Marco complied, and felt something plastic being shoved into his palm. Rafael pulled back his hand, sighing to himself as he put his wallet away. Marco looked at his hand, and nearly jumped.

In his hand, wrapped in solid plastic, was a condom.

"This is not permission from me," Rafael began, looking at his son with a mixture of worry and pride. "Nor is is me condoning Jackie. But I was your age once, and I know that not everything goes how you plan it to." Rafael smiled, and put his hand on his son's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, son, and I know that you'll be good to her."

Getting up from the table, Rafael stretched with a loud series of cracks that shot throughout the room. "Now, finish your beer and hit the bed. You've got a date tomorrow, right?"

In the dim light, Marco saw his father smile, and smiled back.

---

Pushing open the door to his room, Marco found himself blinded by the torrent of light that assailed his eyes. As his retinas adjusted, he could make out blonde hair bouncing in excitement, and sighed. Star shot up from his bed, her eyes alight as she pulled him into the room and threw him into his desk chair.

"Tell. Me. Everything." she spat out as she brandished a pad and pen, clicking the top rapidly.