TRIGGER WARNING! Homophobic comments.

I love you.

Cullen said that.

Tharin could not stop humming an Eve song as he stood in the kitchenette. The pace was slow, but the notes were sanguine. He snorted as he judged himself overexcitable like an infatuated teenager. But it was impossible not to be giddy. He kept replaying their date last night in his head over and over. It never got tiring.

Cullen finally told him he loved him. And he in turn reciprocated. The wait made it that much sweeter, and Tharin felt gratified. Hence the elevated mood this morning.

The extra pep seemed to help as he prepared a Sunday breakfast. First, he fried up rashers of bacon until they were crispy. And then he scrambled three eggs with chopped scallions, tomatoes, and cream cheese. After swiftly wiping the frying pan, he pan-fried thick slices of Japanese milk bread with the tiniest dollop of butter.

Cullen was supposed to arrive around 9 am, and Tharin planned it so the food would be ready right then. After an emotionally charged night, they could do with some staying in. Not that Tharin's tiny studio was such a great place to relax, but Cullen did not seem to mind.

Tharin quickly went over his plan for the day. They would watch a British gay romance film he had been dying to see. And then, Cullen would practice his Japanese with Tharin. If Cullen felt like taking a stroll, they would walk to Yumemigasaki, a little zoo right by the neighborhood. The day was warm enough. Finally, a dinner at Kumi. It was to be a good day.

And yet, in a corner of Tharin's mind was the fact that he had not received a call from his father wishing him a happy birthday.

Their relationship was strained, true. But they checked in on each other rather regularly. Twice a month, when Tharin could bring himself to withstand the enduring bitterness within him and the unwarranted disappointment from his father, Tharin would phone him. And on the young man's birthdays, his father would call without fail, complain about some relative who he spent Thanksgiving Day with, and then drop unsubtle hints that he wanted Tharin to visit on Christmas.

Except for this year.

Even accounting for the time difference, this was unusual. His birthday was two days ago. The only thing he received was a cryptic text that said, I'll call later, alright?

As he flipped the slices of toast with a spatula, Tharin decided to call his father on Monday.

There was a soft knock on the front door. Tharin's heart jumped. Cullen usually texted to let the young man know he was on his way up. The thought about the parental call had distracted him enough to miss it.

Cullen lunged at Tharin as soon as he unlocked and opened the door. Tharin chuckled amidst the kiss, letting his boyfriend's enthusiasm engulf him. The young man's lips stretched in a smile, and Cullen's tongue grazed them. It was lovely but comical at the same time.

After they broke from the kiss, Tharin noted, "Well, someone's eager."

With his beautiful amber eyes ablaze, Cullen responded most seriously, "Everything about you makes me eager."

Tharin guffawed and patted the other man's cheek. It was filled with thick stubble. He did love running his hand over Cullen's stubble. If not for the Navy regulations, he may ask his boyfriend to grow a beard just so he could touch and feel it.

Sounding hurt, Cullen protested, "It's not funny."

"You're right. Sorry. But you still have your jacket and shoes on, and I made breakfast. We should eat first."

Cullen's lips pursed, but he agreed, "Alright, alright."

While Cullen took off his shoes and hung his jacket up in the closet, Tharin hurried to the kitchenette. Despite leaving the stove on low, it still burned the toast slightly. Japanese milk bread may have been a bad choice for pan-frying. It was too delicate. He shrugged as he turned off the stove and plated the toast beside the rest of the food. He made sure to give Cullen's plate the slice that was less burnt.

At that moment, the phone Tharin had left out began to vibrate. It burred loudly on the metal kitchen counter. Cullen's face emerged from behind the closet door and peered at the young man with curiosity.

Tharin glanced at the screen. "It's my dad."

Cullen did not bat an eye. Rolling his sweater sleeves up, he beamed. "I'll finish setting up. You should answer."

The young man sighed. He supposed this was his birthday call, and he ought to answer. So, he picked up the vibrating phone.

Typical. Always a voice call, never a video. Probably because his father was afraid of noticing anything gay in Tharin's life. Like a pride flag, the one that he did not own. Or a boyfriend in the background, perhaps. He cleared his throat and pushed the answer button.

"Hello?"

His father's boisterous voice filled his ear. "Hey, son. I know it's a little late, but happy birthday!"

"Thanks, dad."

"It's been crazy at work. There were some technical issues with the new software we just launched, so the team had to stay late all week."

That explained the pointed absence of the call. "I understand." Tharin knew how the conversation should go. So, he smoothly led it down the predictable path. "How's everything?"

"Oh, you know, nothing out of the ordinary. That is, except for Thanksgiving." There was laughter in his father's voice. "Had Marge stay with me for a week. Now there's a fun drunk."

Tharin remembered the woman. She lived in a middle of nowhere town in Montana and rarely visited her siblings in Seattle. "Auntie Margie came?"

"Yup."

"How is she?"

"The same. A genuine connoisseur of Bud Light, unibrow, a body of an East German powerlifter."

Tharin got an urge to correct his father on the fact that East Germany did not exist anymore. But he let it pass. It would have been pedantic of him.

"Is she still engaged to that guy? The beanpole?"

"Nope, they broke up. She would've spent Thanksgiving with his family if they weren't broken up."

"That's a shame." If Tharin's memory served him correctly, Marge and her now ex-fiancé had been together for over a decade.

But his father sounded jolly. "Yeah. We were under strict orders not to utter his name. But then, she got drunk, and all she did was talk about him."

It seemed like his father had a nice Thanksgiving with their family. "Sounds fun," murmured Tharin.

"How was your Thanksgiving? Oh, and what did you do for your birthday?"

The invocation of his birthday made Tharin's heart skip a beat. Did he dare tell the truth?

"Thanksgiving was fine. I spent it alone." He hesitated. "But for my birthday…"

"Yes?"

"I… uh… I. Um." Tharin shut his mouth before he stuttered some more. There was a pregnant pause. He exhaled forcefully. The truth haunted him, dragooning him to speak.

"What's the matter, son? Cat got your tongue?"

Tharin huffed at that clichéd idiom. He flexed his left forearm. His heart was pounding. "I have to tell you something, dad."

"…Uh oh."

Like ripping off a band-aid. He could do this. "I spent my birthday with Cullen, my boyfriend."

"…"

Total silence seemed to consume all the air in the room. Tharin became self-conscious about the sound of his own breathing.

"Dad?" he asked with a quiet voice.

All of a sudden, there were three beeps signaling the end of the call. Tharin stared at the screen with a frown. He then turned to Cullen and exclaimed as he held the phone up, "He hung up!"

Cullen had filled a kettle and was about to boil the water for their tea. Without turning on the stove, he approached and gave him a firm hug.

Tharin stood rooted to the spot. When the anger within him somehow unfroze his brain, he sneered. "You know what, it's fine. Everything's fine. Let's eat."

With his arms still looped around Tharin's waist, Cullen looked at him with a creased brow. "Thar…" In the morning sun, Cullen's eyes glowed as though they were forged from gold. Tharin had seen those irises reflect warm light before, but their luminosity was still surprising and frankly a bit hypnotizing. Cullen bit his lower lip, one of his many tells, and whispered, "I'm so sorry about your dad. Do you… want to talk?"

The young man shook his head. "No… I don't know." Tharin looked at Cullen and managed a grimace that resembled a smile. "It's just… I don't want to unload on you. Really don't think you deserve that."

Cullen soughed and enfolded Tharin in a bear hug. "Oh, love…" His voice was tender. And the term of endearment Cullen uttered with such certitude came as a surprise. A good kind that made the back of Tharin's nose sting. Cullen continued after a squeeze, "But I'm here to listen. That's what being your boyfriend means, doesn't it? To listen and to help however I can."

His reluctance aside, Tharin wanted to lean on Cullen's love. And so, he conceded even though he thought he would be imposing on Cullen. "I guess so. But I don't know what to say, honestly. I've given him almost six years, and he's moved not an inch. I don't know what I can do to change his mind. And I'm so fucking tired of his bullshit."

Cullen traced his hand over Tharin's nape. "I know… But only you can change your dad. You just need to keep talking to him, remind him that you're happy as you are."

"Ugh. Can I just ignore him? I don't need to prove to him that I'm happy with you. Can't I just… I don't know, pretend that my dad doesn't exist?"

Cullen snorted. "You can't do that." He placed a quick kiss on Tharin's forehead. "You love your dad. Underneath all this stuff, you still love him, and he still loves you. He just needs to see that."

Tharin rolled his eyes, hoping some levity would lift his mood. "Stop being so right. It's an annoying look on you."

With the corners of his eyes crinkled now, Cullen added, "Besides, if you didn't have your dad in your life, you'd regret it."

Tharin's core reverberated from the impact. Here he was complaining about having a father while Cullen's parents were gone. How could he have been so thoughtless? He whispered, "I'm a terrible person… I'm sorry."

But Cullen responded with only compassion, his grin altered specifically to mollify and assuage, "You aren't terrible. You're the kindest person."

It made Tharin feel even guiltier. He looked away only for Cullen to reach out to his chin and gently turn his gaze back. Cullen spoke with the softest tone that threatened to sunder Tharin's heart, "There's nothing to change the fact that my parents are gone. But your dad is still here. I know it's difficult, but please keep talking to him."

The young man nodded and managed to upturn his lips. "I will try. I promise."

The worry in Cullen's expression did not dissipate completely, but he appeared satisfied with Tharin's decision. He unclasped his arms and went to boil the water.

The young man tumbled on the bed, feeling emotionally drained. It was then when the phone began to vibrate once again. He held the phone above his face and checked. Predictably, it was his father. Tharin rejected the call and let his arm flop onto the old mattress. The hand holding the phone bounced lightly.

"Give him another chance," exhorted Cullen as he ambled over to the bed. "You did promise."

"Aw, alright. If he calls again, I'll answer."

Betraying Tharin's expectation that there would not be another call, his father phoned yet again. After letting it ring five times and watching Cullen quirk his eyebrows with his hands on his hip, Tharin gave in and pushed the answer button.

Letting his ire show, Tharin spat, "What is it." He stood up and began to pace the length of his apartment.

"Tharin…" His father sounded weary. "I won't say I'm happy about this. However… I am trying to change. I swear. I want you to be happy. If that means you… date… a man…" He could not even bring himself to finish the sentence, Tharin noted. The young man's anger transposed into disappointment that gently sunk into the abyss, adding another layer on top of the fossilized disappointments.

But then, hope sprang eternal. His father timidly asked, "What's… What's he like?"

"Who? Cullen?"

The mentioning of the man's name obviously threw his father off. "…Yes."

"Cullen's…"

Tharin looked to Cullen in the kitchenette. He got the only mugs that the young man had, mismatched and well-used, out of the cabinet and put oolong tea bags. He then leaned sideways, grabbed a carton of milk out of the refrigerator, and splashed some in. Finally, he opened a drawer for a spoon to put some sugar in the mugs.

The kettle began to whistle at that moment. Cullen turned off the stove, tipped the kettle to pour the boiling water into the mugs, and put it aside.

"He's… perfect for me. And we love each other."

Tharin gritted his teeth when he heard his father sigh as though he had lost his only child. Like Tharin had been lost to an evil man named Cullen. As he began to formulate a trenchant response that would match the sigh, his father spoke once again. He could hear his father's voice crack. "I hope you and Cullen are happy together."

"We are."

"I really miss you, son."

"I miss you too, dad." This wasn't a lie. Tharin did miss his father. Or more accurately, the father he knew before he came out. The one who had no problem saying he loved him unconditionally.

Would things have been better if he had never come out to his father? The young man could not help but ask himself as his heart broke anew.

"Thanks for the call. I'm gonna go now," whispered Tharin.

"Alright." His father sounded defeated, and the young man was not sure if he felt triumphant or dejected. Maybe it was both.

After Tharin slipped his phone into his pocket, Cullen approached and gave him another embrace. Tharin wrapped his arms around this time.

"I'm here, Thar," susurrated Cullen, a pillar of strength. "I'll always be here."

The young man buried his face in Cullen's bosom. He breathed in Cullen's soapy scent and tried to pick himself up.

At least there were no tears.

END NOTE

Tharin was humming Shinkai (心海) by Eve: (*YOUTUBE*/watch?v=vRPCAAUBMms)

Oh, narrow-minded, bigoted parents. Where would be without them? No, seriously, where would we be without them.

Next up, a very physical chapter, coming on October 3.