Work Text:
Dee stands in front of the door, his normally passive face pinched. The pleasant blue door stares at him innocently, mockingly, as he tries willing himself to 'Just get in already damnit! Someone's gonna see you dawdling like an idiot!'.
His weight shifts from one foot to another, fingers twisting with each other as he physically and metaphorically weighs his option.
'On one hand,' he thinks, leaning to his left, 'I could leave now, save myself the embarrassment, and no-one would ever know'. The floor makes a near inaudable creak as his right leg now bears his weight. 'On the other hand… Lif.'
If anyone were around to see him and hear his thoughts, he'd have to kill them or simply die from the shame of how convincing his counterpoint was, as well as his subsequently decisive opening of the office door.
Pa sits at his desk, working through a stack of worksheets. As Dee predicted, he's neared the end of the pile, and as such his father doesn't dismiss his intrusion. While he doesn't stop his writing and his face is as stern as it could be, he does briefly glance up to acknowledge his oldest. Dee takes that as his sign to speak.
"Pa, ‘The Worst You’ll Ever Get’ is having a concert in town next week. Can I go?"
His father remains silent and continues his grading, so Dee stands awkwardly at the door looking around the small room. Like always when his dad was working, the only light came from the small desk lamp. Despite it, he could still make out the silhouettes of instruments around the room. He avoided gazing at them guitars directly, unsure if he's still not allowed to look at them despite having played ('played'. He'd laugh if his bruised pride didn't still ache) Gibson. His Pa's violin sat in it's display, untouched and pristine as ever. Though it was dark, Dee could picture the glittery pink walls of the office– the result of a student's april fools prank that his Pa found too amusing to be angry at, and instead decided immortalize. A set of guitar amps sat in front of the desk in place of chairs, which is his dad's favorite way of saying ‘Fuck off’. But Dee and Heavy have long since figured out that it never applied to them.
There was a quiet shuffle of papers, and shortly afterwards the room was brightly lit. He looked over to his dad and saw him standing, smile now present and tucking his glasses into it's case.
"Let's discuss this while cooking dinner." He suggested. Dee couldn't help the satisfied smirk he gave himself. Just as he expected. If he he planned this out right, then Pa will ask him about it while prepping the vegetables. He'll give him a concise explanation with all the need to know information, and Pa will think on it before getting swept up in the more demanding task of cooking, and he'll give Dee his approval to keep his mind less occupied.
He let his dad lead them downstairs and into the kitchen. Pa offerd him his apron and he wears it, moving towards the sink to wash his hands. Over the rush of the water, he hears his dad ask;
"Where's the venue?"
Dee dries his hands off and joins his dad on the workbench. He took the potato his dad just peeled and began chopping it into cubes. "At the Milligan Bar. They won't be serving alcohol during the show since its 15+, and it's near uncle Ches' store, so he can pick me up afterwards if you're worried. I'll pay for the tickets, I just need proof of parental consent."
"You have this all planned out I see. Who's the girl?"
The direct question causes Dee's hand to falter, almost cutting his finger as a result. He stills to regain his composure, then returns to the potato. Determined to keep his nonchalance, he replies tonelessly.
"Who said anything about a girl?"
His dad was quick with the retort. "You said you would pay for the tickets, meaning more than one, so you're obviously going with someone. And it certainly can't be Heavy, you wouldn't pay for his ticket and anyways, it's a 15+ show. You're also asking me for permission, even though we both know your mother would have let you go for sure. Instead you decided to take a gamble with me, while I was working no less, so it's not something you'd want your her to know about. Likely, it’s something you’d be too embarrassed to tell her."
Dee was immediately overcome with the strong urge to stick his head into the currently preheating oven. Although he knew he could never truly outsmart his Pa (it’s where he got it from, after all) he had hoped that asking him when he was busy would mean he'd figure it out later, rather than sooner.
"...Her name's Lif."
"Ah! She was the one who threw the chair during Heavy’s birthday, yes?”
“Yeah, she’s pretty badass.”
His dad gave a satisfied hum, but offered no reply. For the next few minutes, the family's blondes worked in the quiet to prepare dinner. Although Dee was itching for an answer, he knew better than to interrupt his dad while he was making a decision. Instead, he focused on the dirty dishes and scrubbed them intently, determined to get as much of the grime off of them as he could. It didn’t take very long– dad was as meticulous as he was when it came to hygiene– and he soon had to put up his apron, having finished all the work he could do. He folded up the garment and picked up his phone, wondering if he should stay in the dining area or leave, when Pa finally spoke.
“If I said no, would you sneak out and attempt to go to the show anyways?”
Dee frowned and looked at his phone, trying to ignore his dad’s knowing smile. He sat down and pretended to scroll, quickly debated the pros and cons of lying, before offering a hesitant “Probably?” at his phone screen.
He doesn’t look up as his dad finishes cooking, unsure of what response his honesty would get. He does hear him chuckle, so he figures it’s probably not bad.
“You may go to the show. But I will make sure that Ches will be there to pick you up at 9pm, and not a minute later. Lif may also come home with you, provided Ches has agreed.”
If Dee were a lesser man (or his brother), he would have started punching the air in celebration, or maybe even started skipping. It was always a toss up on what dad allowed, and the topic of dating was completely new territory permission-wise. Keeping his excitement contained, he stood and made to call the rest of the family down for dinner.
“Thanks. I’ll pay you back after dinner and-”
“Just one more thing, Dee.”
Ah. Maybe it was too soon to celebrate.
He slowed and hesitated at the kitchen entrance. He looked to his dad to try and gage his mood, but the older just had his signature smile on his face.
“When you get back, I’d like to talk to you about where you’ve been sneaking off to at night." He said in his cheerful tone. "And why you’ve decided that this would be the time you'd ask permission.”
Dee winced and hung his head like– well, like a guilty kid caught by their parents. He fiddled with his wrist cuffs, twisting and tugging and trying not to let his shame overwhelm his thinking. He gave his dad a nod with a murmured “sure” before fleeing upstairs.
He opened the door leading to his and Heavy’s conjoined room. Heavy had his headphones on with Overwatch displayed on the screen, so he tapped on the plastic of the device to get his attention.
“Dinner’s ready. Get down.”
Not waiting for a confirmation, Dee continued on to his room and sat on his bed. He stared at his ceiling in woe, dreading the future conversation with his dad. His pity party was quickly crashed however by the sound of a notification. He didn’t even have to check who the message was from, launching discord after unlocking his phone.
Creepy Bloody Kitty: Soooo… can you make it next week?/??
D Dark Prince: Yup.
D Dark Prince: My uncles picking me up at 9 tho. We could probably drop you home, he wont mind.
Creepy Bloody Kitty: Sounds good!! I have a curfew 2 so I might tag along :)
Although he wanted to have a longer conversation with Lif, he heard the telltale sounds of Heavy’s chair squeaking across the floorboards and knew he couldn’t stay any longer.
D Dark Prince: Sry gtg
Creepy Bloody Kitten: Ok!!! Ttyl :))
Pocketing his phone, he quickly made his way downstairs to join the rest of his family. Now that he knew he could go, he could start planning what to wear. Maybe he could borrow one of Pa’s coats…