Peat's POV (Bert and Molly are Jake's parents)
Part of being out and open about his sexuality had been coming out of the closet, though he'd only resided briefly in said closet. There was the big coming out, the times—yes, plural, long story—he had told his mom, and there were small coming outs. For a while it felt like a constant process, so many people to tell, so little desire to continue talking about it.
Coming out was not a big deal when you were introduced as “my boyfriend Peat” or “this is Peat. I told you about him.” But introductions to complete strangers sometimes lead to the opening of the closet. They'd ask. Or Peat would say. But only when they needed to know. Gay or straight wasn't required information if they were issuing him a ticket or trying to find his dry cleaning among the turnstile.
Jake had given his dad a hug and said, “This is Peat.” Peat left the closet door open and kept an eye out just in case he needed to step out properly.
“Well, you of course didn't leave us a note.” Long pause from Bert. “Because you didn't know we were coming home early.”
“True,” Molly said. “I found your cell phone under your bed.” She waited for her son's response, but Peat's was instant: unmade bed and condom wrapper. Forget stepping out, Peat had just been slingshot out, shiny-white-ass naked. The blush was the body's stupid idea of camouflage. Like, what? Red, a target color, was better than we-come-in-peace white?
Jake didn't say anything, and his face remained neutral, passing the potatoes to his father. He darted a glance at Peat and smiled, a flashy grin, then refocused on his plate.
Molly sighed. “Well, I just hope you guys are being careful.”
“I‟m a safety girl,” Peat sing-songed, trying for humor.
Bert looked up from his plate, and Jake, eyes narrowed and fork halfway to his mouth, stared. Peat was about to explain when Molly said, “Julia Roberts?” Not asking a question of Peat but seeing if Bert and Jake were able to follow. “Pretty Woman?” Her eyebrows and tone said, “Hello?”