His father was never pleased with him #MidWeekTease #amwriting #mmromance

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Catch up with last week's tease.

Last week, we know Dante and Carl spent their first weekend together. But the weekend doesn't exactly end well for both of them due to something that Carl did. In this scene, we get a little bit of an insight into Carl's life and what happens afterwards.

 I hope you enjoy it. It's still a first draft so pardon any errors.
*Note, this is written in UK English.
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Carl

The moment I peeled back gritty eyelids and saw my furious-looking father standing in the middle of my dimly lit room, the memory of my entire disastrous weekend came flooding back.

Shit. My stomach congealed as I remembered D's expression when he confronted me with Alexander in tow. Apparently he'd found my bodyguard doing his duty, making sure I was safe. Confronted him especially since said bodyguard had been one of the men who'd been in the alleyway Friday night.

I'd tried to explain that the set up had been a stupid thing to do. That I'd been desperate for his attention. But the disappointment on D's face had nearly ripped me apart before he'd stood up and walked out of the coffee shop.

Nausea roiled through me. I hadn't been able to cope with the downer I felt when he walked away and I realised I'd screwed up a very good thing. He'd been the first man I'd been with who'd shown me any kind of affection beyond just the physical act of sex. The short time we'd spent together had been glorious, from the way he'd acted when he'd thought I was in danger to the tender way he'd fed me breakfast. Even the sex had felt more like making love. For one thing I'd come more times than he had. He'd ensured it.

The tight press of his lips and the disappointed sigh he gave had floored me. Next thing I knew he walked out of my life.

I should've tried to stop him. Gone on my knees to beg him. But I was in a busy cafe and I guess my stupid pride won. I lost the best thing that had happened to me in a long time.

So I did what I do best. I went to drown my sorrows. I called up my friends, hit the bars and clubs, drank a whole lot, came back to my house and fucked for the rest of the night.

Of course I'd stupidly forgotten that father would be returning from his business trip today. Although I hadn't been expecting him this early.

My room was thoroughly trashed and there were two other guys in my bed. Dried fluid caked to my body, white dust lined the side table and bottles of champagne tipped over the sides.

My throat felt choked with sawdust. “Dad...I”

My father’s icy blue eyes drilled into me and the thin lips told me he was angry even before he spoke. Thing is my father was never pleased with me no matter how much I behaved well. In fact acting up seemed to be the only time I got any attention from him.

“Carlos, get yourself together and meet me in my den," he barked out before walking out of my bedroom.

I levered myself up to my elbows and untangled myself from the bodies strewed across me. My ass hurt like hell and my head hurt even worse. How many times did I have sex last night? How much did I drink? I had no idea.
To top it all off, my father had found me in this state. The expression on his face meant I'd gotten myself into big trouble this time.

Based on the events of the weekend so far, it seemed I was going for some kind of world record in pissing people off and screwing up my life.

The moment my feet hit the carpet, my stomach protested and it was pure luck that made me reach the toilet bowl in time.

I'd certainly hit a new low.

After puking out my guts, I don't know how long I lay on the cold tiles before I managed to get back on my feet to brush my teeth and shower. I returned to my room and woke my partners-in-crime as I got dressed.

James and Aidan were my party friends. We went to college together and came from the same class of rich parents. So we understood one another to a point. They knew what being gay meant in a world where most people disapproved of us. A world where you could get locked up for being gay. We got away with it mostly because we came from rich families and could do whatever we pleased without people batting their eyelids.

Still, as I made my way downstairs after getting dressed, I realised that antagonising my father who barely tolerated my choices wasn't a good thing.  I certainly didn't want to get into more shit trouble.

In the kitchen our housekeeper Grace greeted me with a cheery "Good morning, sunshine."

"Morning, Grace," I mumbled as I opened the cupboard in search of a glass to take some painkillers.

"I made your favourite. Blueberry muffins."

My lips curled in a smile as I chased the tablet with water and placed the glass in the sink. She pulled out a rack of muffins from the oven and the sweet aroma had my stomach growling.

This woman was one of the reasons I lived in this house. One of the reasons I lived. Period. She was a ray of sunshine in an otherwise fucked up existence. She knew exactly how to brighten up my day.

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