Running Wild

Ri. Ri, my dad.”
Ri strode over and offered his hand. “Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning.” The hand was dry and firm.
“My full name is Zachariah, actually.”
The father frowned, and Seamus put in, “This is Zachariah’s grandson.”
The father frowned more deeply, and Ri looked to Seamus for help.
Seamus continued, “He’s been away.”
Ri could see questions going through the older man’s head. Like why Seamus had inherited, and why Ri hadn’t been around over the years.
“Honey, you didn’t tell me yesterday that this was Zachariah’s grandson.” Seamus’s mother reached out and grabbed one of Ri’s hands, caught him there as she said with Seamus’s sincere gray eyes, “I am so sorry for your loss.”
Ri swallowed. “Thank you.” It was easy to feel the pain. Not many people had expressed such a sentiment to him. That is, no one. He knew Seamus grieved too, but they had come at each other in such an odd way they hadn’t spoken of his grandfather much.
“Waffles?” Seamus said brightly.
“Oh, we’ve eaten, honey, but thank you. You go on ahead.”
“How come only one of you is eating?” Seamus’s father stared at the table with one plate.
In a light tone, Seamus answered, “I’m about to dig in.”
His dad marched over to the bowl of batter to see it was about empty. He trapped Ri in a scowl. “Don’t take advantage of the cook.”
Ri felt mortified.
“Dad!” Seamus rolled his eyes. “I wanted to finish cooking first, for God’s sake.”
“Sean,” Seamus’s mother remonstrated her husband. “I’m sure Ri is a very nice boy.” Her tone suggested the complete opposite, as did her pointed look when Seamus’s back was turned, digging the waffle out of the waffle iron.
Ri shrank into his chair, almost wishing that the shifters were back in the room.
When Seamus sat to eat his waffle, his mother smiled at everyone and asked, “Now, how’s your good friend Pete?”
It took Seamus a while to usher his parents out of his apartment. While suspicious of Ri, his father had a soft touch, and Ri’s deer-in-the-headlights expression had prompted him to be more friendly after the initial frowning.
Ri had accepted Dad’s condolences, and that flash of pain had softened him further.
As they were leaving, his dad asked, “Does anything change now, in terms of the farm being left to Seamus?” The question was directed at Ri.
“No,” said Ri firmly.
“You’re not after the farm?”
Ri managed to look alarmed at the idea as he gave a more emphatic no, and Seamus said, “Dad.”
“I’m trying to figure out what’s going on, is all.” He raised one brow. “Like why you’re here instead of on the farm.”
“Just a quick trip to the city,” replied Seamus, aware that wasn’t a real answer.
“Well, call me when you’re ready to let me into the loop.”
Seamus grimly tried to ignore the edge of hurt in his dad’s words while his mother tugged on his father’s arm.
Seamus waved them out of the hallway and closed the door.
He turned to see Ri sink into the armchair, hand over his eyes.
“Hey, it wasn’t so bad.”
Ri looked up through his fingers, expression dubious.
“Dad’s a bit protective of me. My first boyfriend was kind of an asshole, and unfortunately Dad figured that out before I did and decided that gay men—apart from me—were shitty boyfriends.”
Ri straightened up, concern on his face. “What did this boyfriend do?”
Seamus smiled. “No, no. Nothing serious. Just not show up when he said he would, sleep around, try to convince me we should go bareback.” At Ri’s blank expression, he added, “Not use condoms for anal intercourse.”
“Asshole,” Ri confirmed, then his mouth dropped open. “Your dad knew that ?”
“Good God no. The more general behavior.” Seamus laughed. “Ri, don’t look so fierce. This was only a few months, and while it hurt my tender heart, I probably learned something good from it.” Maybe. Seamus wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t have demanded better from future lovers, but anything to wipe that expression off Ri’s face.
“Anyway,” Seamus continued, “poor guy got his punishment. After he broke it off with me, he got hit by a car, three broken ribs and a broken leg. It was hard for me to hold a grudge.” He’d visited Jason on and off for a while after the accident, out of a sense of duty, until that too had petered out. Kind of a disastrous end to first love.
“So,” Ri began tentatively, “Pete