Carter slammed the downstairs bathroom door behind him, shoving on the pajamas as fast as he could.
... Shit... Shit! What the fuck did I think I was doing? First of all you... you kiss him, then...then. Agh!
Shaking his head violently and hoping perhaps this was all some bizarre and wrong dream, Carter started running the taps, and splashed his face with copious amounts of water. His face dripping droplets off water off his beard, and onto the pajama shirt, he slowly slid down the wall to land on the floor, fists clenched.
He couldn't remember when he's last been out of control like that... There was sex, sure. His job did leave time for that, albeit only ever one night stands. Which were all he'd ever wanted. He doubted any woman would put up with his temper or the long hours he worked. But he was always in control, never wanted, needed anyone or anything like this. It was out of character... And he had to admit, this scared him more than any damn serial killer ever could.
Words caught his attention, filtering through the wall as he leant against it.
"...enever you like, but you're not my son, and you're not doing it in my house!"
I am your son! Whether you like it or not, Dad... ...omination, as you so delightfully put it!"
Fuck... what the Hell was I thinking... Carter clenched his fists even tighter, and listened harder.
"uality is, but he's my friend, and... and I love him, alright?"
Carter almost stopped breathing at that. "He fucking what?"
That was it. That was just too much. Grabbing a pair of Norman's father's trousers out of the washing basket (which were slightly too big), and a shirt off the towel rail, (which the collar was too tight), Carter got dressed, clambered onto the toilet, unlatched the window, and started clambering his way to freedom and the garage his car was being held at.
Meanwhile, in the lounge, Norman's father seemed at danger of exploding.
"Anna, not now, I'm trying to get your brother out of the house." Eric hissed.
"Oh for fuck's sake Dad! Have you not let the fact he's gay go yet? It's not that fucking uncommon you know!"
"Not that uncommon? He's a bloody..."
"Abomination? Whatever. I guess you're entitled to your opinion about your own son. Right now, my son, who I care about a Hell of a lot more than you ever cared about us, is not in the fucking house. Now are you going to let my son get into danger because of your bigoted issues, or are you actually going to fucking help?"
"I... fine. But as soon as we get back, he's gone or I'm calling the police."
"For fuck's sake, I'm presuming all he's done is have sex, which is hardly a crime. Anyway, if you're that bothered, maybe you should ask Mom about her college days!"
Norman's father blinked, mouth gaping open.
"Yea. See? Now stop gay-bashing poor Norm and call the fucking police!"