likeshipsonthesea:

For Father’s Day. Warnings for homophobia.

“Hey Will?” Dex’s dad poked his head into the living room, where Dex laid on the couch, exhausted, after a day of working on the boat. “Would you come help me with the car?”

Dex heaved a great breath and pushed himself off the couch to follow his father to the garage. His dad’s car was there, the hood popped, exposing all the machinery inside. Dad settled over the engine and held out a hand. Dex gave him the tool he needed and waited for further orders.

“You know,” Dad said, adjusting something with a grunt. “Your grandma didn’t want me dating your ma, back when we got together.”

“Really?” In his twenty years of life, Dex’s maternal grandmother had never given any indication that she didn’t like Dad. Dex didn’t know how anyone could not like his dad. He was a funny, kind, and devoted guy, who was good for a laugh or a beer or a heart to heart. Everyone loved him.

Dad turned to offer Dex a cheeky grin. “She thought I was a bad influence,” he said, and held out the tool for Dex to exchange. He turned back to the engine. “Actually, lotsa people thought Kathy was too good for me. We ran in different circles, youknow. She was with the smart crowd, I was with the delinquents.” He chuckled at his past self, shaking his head a little. “Everyone said it was a bad match.”

Dex couldn’t really believe that. His parents had one of the best relationships he’d seen in his life. They came home every night from work, exhausted to the bone, and still smiled and spoke softly about their days over dinner, still kissed one another goodbye every morning with sleep-happy expressions on their face, still danced whenever a slow song came on and talked quietly with one another as if they were in their own little world. Dex’s parents were as in love today as they were when he was a kid, and likely since before Dex was even there to pay attention.

“No way,” Dex said, handing his dad another tool.

“Yes way,” Dad said, laughing a little, taking the tool and turning so Dex couldn’t really see his face. “But now anyone’ll tell you how good we are for each other.” A metallic noises echoed around the garage as Dad tinkered. “But, you know, that’s the thing about people. They don’t always have the right idea about things.”

Dex tried not to but he tensed. He thought of the Cup, the kiss, his parents’ faces when Dex got back home after visiting Providence, the things their shifting eyes said while their mouths were pursed, closed to him. Things had been strained throughout the whole family. The weekly barbecues found aunts tip-toeing around him, working daily with Uncle Finn had become a silent affair. No one said anything but Dex knew what they were thinking.

“Hand me that wrench?” Dad said, and Dex jolted to follow the order. Dad remained facing the engine and Dex couldn’t get a read on the conversation. “People say things about stuff, right, but they don’t always get it. Sometimes the only people who understand are the ones that are in it.”

“I–I guess.”

“Love’s one of those things, youknow. People don’t always get it but–” Dad straightened up and gave Dex a smile. “They way I figure it, if your mom had listened to those people saying our love was bad, we’d have missed out on one of the best things in our lives. Love’s too good to throw away for other people’s sakes.”

Dex stared at his dad for a few long seconds. He swallowed. “Thanks, Dad,” he said, and his voice was a little rough.

Dad smiled back for a moment before laughing and clapping Dex on the shoulder. “What’re you thanking me for? You’re the one that helped.” He turned to lower the hood and said, “Now let’s go help your ma in the kitchen. I think we’re having meatloaf tonight.”

Dex followed his dad out of the garage, smiling.