Chapter 1: The Last Morning
The rest of Sunday morning passed in a lazy, picture-perfect blur of autumn sunshine and changing leaves.
They walked without much of a plan after breakfast—Matt and Chloe a little ahead, Caleb and Hayden behind, Erin in the middle keeping the pairs from straying too far apart.
Matt’s legs still carried that pleasant weariness from the early run. Between the nine-mile loop and the sweaty threeway with the two grad students, he felt it in his thighs, his glutes, and his spent cock. It was the good kind of used—the deep, physical satisfaction that made his body feel at absolute peace with the world, for a while at least.
"Look at the copper flashing on those dormers," Matt mused, looking up toward an ivy-covered brick library as they walked. "That’s real craftsmanship. You don't see architecture like that anymore. They let it patina beautifully."
"Dad, I am begging you to be normal," Chloe groaned, pushing the hair back over her ear. "Just enjoy the vibe for a change."
Matt chuckled. He wrapped a paw around his daughter’s shoulder, pulling her close. He glanced over his shoulder, raising his voice for the stragglers. "What do you think, Caleb? Good roofline?"
Caleb looked up from his quiet chat with his roommate, the morning breeze flopping the hair over his forehead.
"Sure, Dad," he yelled back, completely uninterested. "Looks amazing."
Matt grinned to himself and steered the group away from the main quad, following a winding, paved path down toward the river.
The floating wooden docks were much quieter today than they had been during Saturday’s regatta. The water lapped gently against the pylons as a few crew members hauled their long, narrow boats out of the water to hose them down on the grass.
Chloe let out a dramatic sigh as she watched the rowers.
"Ugh, it is so incredibly unfair," Chloe bemoaned, staring openly at the broad-shouldered, undergrads carrying their oars. "So many hot guys on this campus and I have to go back to high school boys.”
Caleb, who had just caught up, rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful. "Can you stop horndogging for five minutes?"
Standing near the open boathouse doors, holding a clipboard and a stopwatch, was a sturdy figure in a faded baseball cap and a grey university sweatshirt. Milo looked up from his paperwork as the family walked past on the elevated trail.
Matt caught the coach’s eye. A slow, private smile tipped the corners of Matt’s mustache. He gave a single, firm nod.
The coach’s bright eyes flashed with warm recognition. He tipped the brim of his cap in a silent, appreciative salute.
Matt chuckled under his breath, pulling his daughter in tight to his side. "Just enjoy the scenery, Chlo."
They continued up the path, leaving the river behind and looping back toward the historic residential neighborhoods bordering the campus. The sidewalks were wider, shaded by massive, sprawling oak trees that dropped yellow leaves onto the concrete.
Erin finally caught up with Matt, flanking his left side with Chloe on the right. “Slow down, racehorse,” she said with a smile.
As they crossed an intersection, two figures approached from the opposite direction.
It was two older students, dressed in casual Sunday campus clothes—the blond in a long-sleeved tee that hugged his compact torso, and the taller man in a gray henley that flattered his long, lean build.
As they passed on the sidewalk, the blond looked up. His sharp eyes found Matt’s, and a sleepy, satisfied grin spread across his face. His taller companion caught Matt's eye a second later, offering a respectful nod.
"Morning, boys," Matt rumbled cheerfully, giving them a casual, two-finger salute without breaking his stride.
"Big dog," the taller of the two murmured, with a backward glance as they passed.
Chloe groaned. "See? Case in point! Gorgeous, but obviously together. What did I tell you?"
Erin looked over her shoulder at the retreating men, then up at her husband, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Do you know those two, Matthew? We've only been in town for two days."
"Just a couple of friendly locals," Matt beamed smoothly, the flash of memory of the sweaty puppy-puddle on the mattress already safely tucked away in his mind.
Erin just shook her head, smiling fondly at her affable husband.
Just then, Chloe’s phone buzzed. She stopped dead in her tracks, bringing the rest of the family to a halt with her. She pulled the phone out, tapping the screen.
"Oh! Maya is following me back on Insta," Chloe announced brightly.
She turned the phone around, flashing the screen toward her parents. It was a selfie Maya had posted from the steakhouse the night before. She was squeezed into the frame next to her mother, while her father grinned, a protective hand on their shoulders.
Looking at the picture, the phantom weight of Tyson’s brick-wall chest pressing flush against his back in the cramped men's room flashed vividly in Matt's mind, along with the agonizingly good fuck at the sink.
"That's great, Chlo," Matt rumbled cheerfully. "Like your old man always says, a stranger is just a friend you haven't met yet! No sir, it never hurts to be neighborly."
Beside Caleb, Hayden’s hands were shoved deep into his pockets. His dark eyes darted down the street from the retreating backs of the two grad students, to the photo on Chloe's phone, and finally up to Matt's grinning, flushed face.
When Hayden’s eyes finally met Matt’s, the nervous energy that the kid had been carrying around at the start of the weekend was completely gone. It was replaced by something darker and incredibly determined.
Matt felt a sudden, unexpected rush of heat on his cheeks. He held the teenager's gaze for a long, heavy moment.
The spell was suddenly broken by the sharp chime of Erin’s phone alarm.
She pulled the phone from her pocket, silencing it with a quick swipe.
"Alright, team," Erin announced, raising her voice just enough to get everyone's attention. "We need to head back to the Airbnb and check out. There are a few things to drop at the dorm, and then we hit the highway."
Matt broke eye contact with Hayden and released Chloe. The late morning sun felt deliciously warm on his back.
He clapped his large hands together, the loud smack breaking the tension in the air.
"You heard the boss!" Matt announced cheerfully, bouncing lightly on the toes of his sneakers. "Let's move out."
Parents Weekend was coming to a close.
Chapter 2: The Punch List
Matt had spent the previous hour at the Airbnb stripping the bedsheets, wiping down the laminate counters and the shower, and digging into his canvas tool bag to fix a squeaky hinge on the front screen door, while Erin sighed that he didn't need to do complimentary maintenance on a weekend rental.
"Good manners don't cost a dime," Matt reminded her, giving the newly tightened brass hinge a satisfying, heavy pat. "Plus, it keeps the bugs out."
With the minivan packed, they pulled into the parking lot outside the freshman dorms so they could haul one more plastic bin up to Room 302. It was full of the boring, everyday essentials Caleb’s fast-moving brain had completely forgotten to pack—a new desk lamp, packs of underwear, protein bars, and a first-aid kit.
With the bin hoisted effortlessly onto Matt’s broad shoulder, and his canvas toolkit gripped in his other hand, the family navigated the dormitory stairwell.
Just as they pushed into the open doorway of Room 302, a compact figure in a blue university staff polo passed by in the hall, paused, and then backed up. When the handsome RA spotted Matt, a bright, deeply dimpled smile instantly broke across his face.
"Hey there, Mr. D," Roberto called out smoothly, leaning casually against the doorframe. His dark eyes did a quick sweep over Matt’s frame, lingering on the spread of the light blue shirt across his shoulders. "Did you get some good use out of that gym pass?"
Matt shifted the plastic bin on his shoulder. He rested his heavy canvas toolkit safely between his thick thighs, freeing up his hand to give Roberto a firm handshake.
As their hands locked, Matt’s mustache ticked up into a warm grin. He thought about the empty basement laundry room, the concrete walls, and the RA eagerly dropping to his knees.
"Sure did, boss," Matt answered, his voice dropping into a register that was just a fraction heavier than usual. "Really appreciate the hookup."
"Anytime," Roberto murmured, flashing his white teeth. The RA gave him a slow nod. "You know where to find me if you need another."
Standing just inside the dorm room, Hayden hadn't missed a single second of the exchange. The freshman’s dark eyes darted from the RA's dimpled smirk to the faint shadow of sweat appearing on the back of Matt’s shirt, and the brief but public intimacy between them.
When Matt finally followed his family into Room 302, he took a quick, appreciative inventory of the space. The ergonomic desk chair he had assembled on Friday was in place, and the four cases of protein shakes he had hauled up three flights of stairs were stacked in the corner.
Erin clapped the dust from her hands. "Alright," she breathed, as Matt set the heavy bin down on the floor with a controlled thud. "That is the absolute last of it. Caleb, you are officially moved in."
She pulled her phone from her purse, her brow furrowing. "Highway traffic is going to be a nightmare by four o'clock," she said, the stress creeping into her voice. "We need to say our goodbyes and hit the road."
Matt glanced from her to Hayden, and then back again.
He set his heavy canvas tool bag down on the desk and unzipped it to reveal a dense assortment of metal tools.
"I just want to do a second pass on a few items," Matt announced cheerfully. "Bunks take a lot of load, so you've gotta torque them a second time after they settle."
Erin froze. She looked at Matt, then looked at the assortment of tools. She let out a fond, exasperated groan.
"Matthew, a 'second pass' means you are going to be tinkering in here for another hour," Erin sighed.
“Better safe than sorry,” Matt shrugged, helpless against the laws of physics.
"We can at least go get some supplies for the trip," Chloe chimed in immediately, seizing the opportunity. "If I don't get an iced matcha right now, I am literally going to perish on the highway."
Erin grumbled in her chest. "Fine. We need water and snacks anyway. And Caleb, I want you to try on that winter coat at the bookstore to make sure it actually fits before we buy it. Kids, come with me."
Caleb pushed away from his shared desk, rolling his eyes as he pulled a faded hoodie over his head.
"I can stay," Hayden offered suddenly.
His voice was quiet, but it didn't waver in the slightest.
"If you need someone to hold the flashlight, Mr. D," Hayden added more softly, stepping away from the bunk. "Or hand you your tools."
There was a moment of quiet in the cramped, pizza-scented room. Erin looked back at her husband, an eyebrow raised, silently questioning if he really needed the teenager's help.
Matt broke the silence.
"Sure thing, Hayden," Matt said, his voice dropping into a low, warm dad-register. "I can always use a spare set of hands."
Matt leaned down to press a quick, loud kiss to his wife's cheek. "Take your time, hon."
"I will NOT take my time, Matt," Erin promised, pointing a stern finger at his chest. "And neither will you. You have a half hour, and that's it."
"You got it, boss," Matt smiled smoothly, but over his wife's shoulder, Matt locked eyes with Hayden.
There was no fidgeting, no bashful blushing, no looking away. The kid was holding his ground, his deliberate focus making it clear this wasn't just a polite offer from a helpful roommate.
"Half an hour," Matt repeated softly, the promise hanging heavy in the air between them.
Chloe and Erin were already out the door when Caleb turned back in the hallway, adjusting his hoodie.
"Don't let him rewire the building," Caleb warned his roommate.
Hayden gave a small, composed smile. "I won't."
The heavy wooden door shut with a solid, echoing click.
Hayden remained standing at arm's length from Matt. He shifted his weight slightly on the scuffed linoleum, his dark eyes never leaving Matt's face.
And then, they were completely alone.
Chapter 3: Ground Rules
The silence in Room 302 felt incredibly loud.
Matt turned his back to the teenager and stepped up to the wooden frame of the bunk bed. He ducked down to sit on the edge of the lower mattress. The cheap university bedsprings let out a metallic groan under him.
Matt leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. The light blue cotton of his button-down stretched taut across his shoulders. He took a second to undo the top buttons, to loosen the stretch, revealing the furry cleft of his pecs as he inspected the hardware on the ladder.
"Alright," he murmured. "Let's see what we're working with here.Hand me that half-inch socket wrench from my bag, will you, partner?"
Hayden didn't say a word. He turned to the desk chair, pulled the wrench from the open canvas bag, and stepped right into Matt’s space.
When Hayden handed the tool down, he didn't place it in Matt's waiting palm. He held it out, making Matt take it from him. Matt paused. He let out a slow, controlled breath through his nose, carefully taking the tool.
"You know," Hayden said, his voice quiet, dropping the nervous, polite roommate act entirely. "You're really good at fixing things, Mr. D. But I’m pretty sure Caleb’s bed isn't the only thing you came up here to take care of."
A slow, fond chuckle vibrated in Matt’s chest. The kid was bold.
Matt fitted the socket over the hex nut on the ladder rung. He gave the wrench a steady pull.
The hardware didn't budge a single millimeter. It was already perfectly, tightly secured—exactly as he’d left it on Friday.
"I like to stay busy," Matt rumbled evenly, keeping his eyes on the perfectly fine bolt. He just held the wrench there, leaning his weight into the rigid metal to make it look like he was doing something. "Idle hands, and all that."
"You were definitely busy this weekend," Hayden countered, taking a step closer. The toes of his sneakers were practically touching Matt’s. "I saw the way that RA in the lobby looked at you. And the crew coach. And those guys on the street. And I don’t think you were just fixing the plumbing in the steakhouse bathroom."
Matt pulled the wrench off the unmoving nut. Hayden stood at the bedside, only his lower half visible from where Matt sat.
“I know,” Matt said.
Hayden let out a short, startled breath. “You knew?”
“Hard not to,” Matt said, looking across the room at the window out onto the campus. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”
Matt pulled himself out of the lower bunk. He stood, finally making eye contact.
“I’m not trying to make anything weird,” Hayden said. “I just… I kept looking at you. And then you kept being nice about it. And I thought maybe—” He hesitated, then pushed the rest out. “They don’t even see you, do they? Your family. The way you look.”
Matt’s mouth tipped up under the mustache, almost amused.
“Erin does. Sometimes,” Matt admitted. “That’s a man’s lot in life, partner. You do the heavy lifting, you keep the roof from leaking, and you fade into the background. I don't mind."
"Well, I see you," Hayden breathed, his dark eyes wide but intensely focused. The teenager bravely reached out, placing his hand flat against the hard muscle of Matt’s chest, right over his heart. "I want to know what it’s like. With you."
Matt’s breath hitched slightly at the direct contact. His pecs reflexively twitched under the blue cotton. He reached up, wrapping his hands around Hayden’s wrists. He didn't push the kid away, but he held him steady, keeping a firm boundary.
"I'm flattered, Hayden. Truly," Matt said gently. "And since we're talking man to man here... let’s get the ground rules straight before we cross a line we can’t take back."
Matt let his thumbs gently stroke the pulse points on Hayden's wrists, making sure the teenager was listening to every word.
"I love my wife and my kids. They are my entire world," Matt explained. "That part’s not flexible. What happens when someone looks at me the way you’ve been looking—this—” He released Hayden’s wrist to make a small, almost embarrassed gesture between them. “—It doesn’t mean I’m looking for anything else. It’s just… friendly. Physical. It doesn’t follow me home. It doesn’t touch Erin, or Caleb, or the rest of it. My people are my people. That’s separate.”
He paused, looking for the words to make it make sense to an eighteen-year-old boy. “I'm just... My brain doesn't know how to sit still, and my body has to burn all that static off. It’s like… a big friendly dog that will happily wag his tail for anyone willing to throw a stick or scratch his belly. It feels good, and it keeps him from tearing up the furniture. But just because he likes how it feels, it doesn't mean he forgets where his bed is. Doesn't mean he's any less loyal to his family… that he loves them any less."
Hayden swallowed hard, his dark eyes tracking every word as Matt continued. “Okay.”
“I’m not good at the complicated version of this,” Matt added, a little quieter. “I only know the simple one. It's not a romance. It doesn't mean anything outside of this room, and once we leave, it never happened. If that’s not what you want, we can stop right here. No harm, no foul.”
Hayden was silent for a second. His Adam's apple bobbed. Then he nodded, once, firm.
“I get it,” he said. “I’m not asking for the complicated version. I don't want to be your boyfriend. I don’t want to ruin anything. I just want you to fuck me."
The blunt honesty of it cut right through Matt’s explanations, making him bark with laughter without even thinking.
He hauled the teenager in by the waist, capturing his mouth in a kiss. Hayden's lips were soft, but they parted eagerly, their tongues sliding together. Matt's hands lowered, grabbing the teen’s ass tight through his jeans, pulling him flush against his body, cock to cock.
There was nothing gentle or hesitant about Hayden’s response. His hands immediately went to the unfastened collar of Matt’s light blue button-down, pulling the buttons open and yanking it wide.
Hayden stared openly at Matt’s chest, his breath going shallow at the blond-furred muscle finally completely bared in front of him. He reached out, his fingers digging greedily into Matt’s pecs, pulling the taller man down into another hot, messy kiss as Matt shrugged fully out of his shirt.
"Alright, let's get you out of this," Matt growled against his mouth.
The clock was ticking.
Chapter 4: The Bottom Bunk
Matt’s calloused hands made quick work of Hayden’s jeans, shoving them down along with his boxers. Hayden kicked them off with his thin canvas sneakers. Hayden’s body was lean and pale—smooth, with slight swells of muscle, his heart almost beating through his skin, already hard the way only an eighteen-year-old is.
Matt undid his own belt, letting his cargo shorts and briefs drop to the linoleum. When his cock sprang free—dense, still carrying a pleasant rawness from the morning—Hayden reached for it immediately, giving it a firm stroke.
Hayden's gaze dragged up Matt's thighs, his broad, blond-furred chest and abs, and back down to the thick weight in his hand. "Wow, Mr. D," Hayden breathed, his voice tight with awe. "You look even better than I imagined. I thought guys like you only existed in porn... Mrs. D is a lucky woman."
Matt let out a low chuckle, his cock twitching slightly at the dry touch. "I appreciate the five-star review, but you've got that backward, partner," Matt replied, completely deflecting the praise. "I definitely married out of my league. I'm the lucky one in that deal."
He reached down, gently but firmly catching Hayden's wrist to pause the friction. "Okay, let’s get this show on the road."
Matt pulled Hayden down onto the lower bunk and followed him, the springs groaning under their combined weight. Matt reached back to yank his sneakers off, letting the shorts fall from his feet.
The space was tight—Caleb’s loft only a couple of feet overhead—so Matt had to keep his shoulders low. Afternoon light cut a hard bar across the floor. Somewhere down the hall, a door slammed and then the dorm went quiet.
“I want you to put it in me,” Hayden said, reaching down to grab Matt’s cock again. “You don’t have to be gentle. I won’t break.”
Matt’s cupped hand was already raised to his mouth, but he stopped. His mustache twitched. “Wasn’t planning to.”
He spat a thick glob of saliva into his palm and slicked his fingers. He reached down the space between Hayden’s legs, pressing into the kid's tight cleft. Hayden gasped, his hips bucking upward.
“Sorry we don’t have time to do this proper,” Matt said as he worked two fingers into the boy, opening him. He didn't waste time on tender coaxing, just using his wet fingers to prep the kid as quickly and thoroughly as possible. Hayden didn't need much anyway—he reached down to grab Matt’s wrist, grinding his ass down to the knuckles.
“I’m not a virgin.”
Matt couldn’t help but grin—at the kid’s assertiveness, and because that made it easier to rush. The clock was ticking.
Matt found his position, aiming his hard-on right at the pink spot. He spat into his palm twice more to smear his cock, which was hard and slightly aching from the morning marathon. He held Hayden open by one ankle.
"You've got a dorm full of people out there," Matt warned, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "So we're going to keep this quiet. Understood, partner?"
"Yes," Hayden breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his legs already spreading wide. His fingers dug into Matt’s solid forearm. "Just do it. Put it in."
Matt caught Hayden by the hip with his free hand and drove forward.
The tight, blazing heat of the kid swallowed him. “Oh fuck,” Matt grunted. The heat and the squeeze pulled a rush of blood straight to his head. He bottomed out with a heavy thud, his balls clapping against Hayden’s smooth ass.
Hayden let out a muffled, strangled cry, throwing his head back into the cheap mattress. The dark hair of his mullet was already sticking to his neck as the temperature in the bottom bunk inched up.
"Shh," Matt ordered.
Matt withdrew and drove back in, and then again, watching Hayden’s face blossom—his lips parted and his cheeks went pink and dewy. He nearly whimpered. “Fuck me.”
Needing better leverage to give the kid what he was begging for, Matt sat back slightly on his heels, straightening as much as the low ceiling allowed. He reached down around the back of Hayden’s thighs and hauled his hips up off the mattress, holding him with his right hand. With his left, he caught the underside of the top bunk, his fingers curling around the exposed wooden slats of his son's bed.
Anchored and deep in Hayden, Matt found his perfect leverage. He pulled himself forward, his hips whipping into Hayden like a piston. Hayden’s back arched and he grabbed at the sheets, reaching out for Matt’s waist to pull him closer and deeper.
Every heavy thrust rocked the frame, but Matt’s iron grip on the timber absorbed the shock, keeping the metal from banging against the cinderblock wall.
"I already put a lot of miles in today, partner," Matt rumbled, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. He slammed his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. "Gonna take some work to get my engine to turn over again."
Hayden locked his ankles around Matt's waist, pulling him deeper. "Do it," the teenager gasped, his voice trembling with heat. "Just don't stop."
Matt didn’t.
He settled into a brutal pace. Minutes ticked by in the sweltering heat trapped in the lower bunk. The tightness was incredible, but Matt had to grind for his trigger, working his length on long strokes, pulling almost all the way out to find the necessary friction.
Matt’s thighs burned with the effort. Sweat poured from his brow, stinging his eyes and running down his hairy chest, dripping steadily onto Hayden's pale skin.
"Look at you," Matt panted, as he kept whipping his hips forward, his grip on the wooden slats turning his knuckles white. He used the words to bring himself to the edge. "Taking every damn inch. So good."
Hayden was whining into his own fist to muffle the noise, but he never tapped out, and he never stopped working his own hips to try to meet Matt's.
Finally, Matt felt the deep, familiar pressure begin to build in his gut. The engine was catching.
"I'm getting there," Matt growled, his thrusts turning frantic and erratic as he chased the feeling. "Fuck, I'm right there."
He let go of Hayden's thigh to wrap his fist around the teenager's hard, twitching cock. He pumped him in perfect time with his own punishing thrusts, letting his thumb rub roughly over the wet head.
Hayden’s silent, open-mouthed gasp was exactly the spark Matt needed. He let out his own guttural roar—much louder than he meant. He buried his cock to the absolute hilt, and unleashed straight into the teenager. His hips bucked as he worked for every single drop, filling the kid up with everything he had left.
Hayden shattered instantly. He let out a loud, breathless sob. His entire body went rigid, bowing off the mattress, and he shot a load over Matt’s working fist, splattering the cum all over his own stomach and chest.
As Hayden’s hips twitched, Matt finally let go of the bed slats, blinking sweat from his eyes.
He began to collapse forward, to drop onto the boy. But he glanced sideways at the digital clock on Caleb's desk. He fought the urge to burrow into that hot cocoon and snuggle.
Instead, he looked down in the dim light. “You okay?”
Hayden nodded breathlessly against the pillow, a starstruck smile on his mouth. “Yeah. Better than okay.”
A satisfied grin broke across Matt's face. "I'd say we got that handled right on schedule."
When Matt backed out, the dorm room felt ten degrees cooler than in the sweltering bottom bunk. Matt grabbed Hayden’s discarded t-shirt and roughly wiped himself down with hurried efficiency.
“You were amazing,” Matt smiled under his mustache as he picked up his shorts.
Hayden beamed as Matt zipped up, then bent over to pick his button-down off the floor.
“Come on, partner,” Matt urged, buttoning up. “Up and at 'em.”
Matt's brain was already turning back to the ordinary world—focused on checking the tire pressure, selecting a playlist, and mapping the highway route home.
He caught sight of Hayden, still basking in the heat of the bunk, slowly milking a last bead of postcum from his spent dick as he watched Matt dress.
“What?” Matt asked, wearing the same warm, uncomplicated expression he wore for almost everything.
“Nothing,” Hayden said, grinning.
It wasn’t the complicated answer. It was the short one, letting the final, private moment of Parents Weekend be perfectly simple.
Chapter 5: Departures
Thirty-six minutes after the family left, Matt jogged across the parking lot, the urgent buzz in his pocket confirming a quick Hurry up, Dad text from Chloe.
Matt looked perfectly put together, the picture of a suburban dad ready for a road trip. His light blue button-down was untucked over his shorts, his messy blond hair was in place, except for the cowlick, and his heavy canvas tool bag was slung effortlessly over one broad shoulder.
In case his chest was heaving just a little harder than a few minor repairs warranted, or if he smelled faintly of damp skin beneath his deodorant, his rush to the minivan was the perfect excuse.
Caleb spoke up first. "Half hour, Dad. You're going to hit the worst highway traffic now."
"Oh, hush," Erin smiled, leaning against the open sliding door. "You know your father always has to leave a place in better shape than he found it. Did you get everything fixed up to your standards, Matt?"
"Snug as a bug in a rug, hon," Matt rumbled warmly, grateful for his wife. "That ladder isn't going anywhere, and the window glides like a dream."
Hayden followed a minute later, looking equally put together in a fresh, clean t-shirt, falling into place beside Caleb. He held out an iced coffee for his roommate.
Caleb looked thoroughly exhausted, clearly ready for a nap the second his family drove away. Hayden’s dark mullet was slightly messier than it had been an hour ago, but the teenager was practically glowing from the inside out, with a relaxed satisfaction in his dark eyes.
"Alright, boys," Erin said, stepping forward to pull her son into a tight, lingering hug. She blinked back a sudden well of tears. "Have a great semester. Call at least once a week, Caleb. I mean it. And please tell me you transferred your Adderall prescription."
"I got it, Mom, I promise," Caleb groaned affectionately, hugging her back. “I’ll see you at break.”
Matt caught his son's eye over Erin's shoulder and offered a quiet, knowing wink. He knew what it took to keep a busy brain on track.
Erin wiped her eyes and turned to Hayden. She reached out and pulled the teenager into a warm, maternal hug, which Hayden eagerly returned.
"It was so lovely meeting you, Hayden," Erin beamed, pulling back to squeeze his shoulders. "And since your mother is a flight away, I want you to know you are always welcome at our house. In fact, I insist you come stay with us for Thanksgiving. It's such a short break to try and fly all the way home, and we’d absolutely love to have you."
Hayden blinked, a bashful smile breaking across his face. His dark eyes flicked right over Erin's shoulder, landing directly on Matt.
"I would really love that, Mrs. D," Hayden said smoothly, holding Matt's gaze. "Thank you. I'll definitely take you up on it."
"Perfect," Erin declared, thoroughly satisfied with her mothering. She climbed into the passenger seat of the minivan, adjusting the seat for the long ride ahead.
Matt stepped up to the boys. He pulled Caleb into a rib-crushing bear hug, slapping his son's back affectionately. "Proud of you, kiddo," he whispered quietly into Caleb’s hair. "You're gonna do great."
He gave his son one last squeeze before turning his attention to Hayden.
As Matt stepped close, his sharp, observant eyes caught a tiny detail just above the collar of Hayden's fresh t-shirt—a faint, pink patch of friction burn resting right at the base of the teenager’s neck—the abrasive signature of a blond mustache.
"Good having you holding down the fort, Hayden," Matt rumbled.
For a split second he felt a pang—a wish that he could haul the kid in for just one more kiss. But as quickly as the feeling flared, it smoothed right back out.
He extended his large, calloused hand.
Hayden looked at it only for a second, then took it. His fingers squeezed Matt’s knuckles, and let go.
"Thanks for everything," Hayden murmured, his voice dropping slightly. "Really."
"Always happy to pitch in," Matt winked and cleared his throat. "Keep things under control here, partner."
Matt turned and climbed into the driver's seat. He buckled his seatbelt, checked the rearview mirror to make sure Erin and Chloe were settled, and fired up the ignition. Pressing the button on the door armrest, he rolled his window all the way down and gave the boys one last, cheerful wave through the open frame before pulling smoothly out of the visitor lot and navigating the campus roads.
As they drove on, the interior of the minivan was perfectly quiet. Chloe already had her earbuds in the back seat, quietly mumble-singing along to a Sabrina Carpenter track. Up front, Erin was looking out the passenger window, sniffling softly and holding a tissue to her chin.
Matt reached across the center console and patted her thigh with his heavy hand.
"You did good, hon," Matt reassured her, giving her leg a warm squeeze. "He's going to be just fine."
Erin offered a watery smile, placing her hand over his.
Matt’s thumb stroked the back of her knuckles. He leaned across the center console, dropping his voice into a rumble that couldn't carry over the slow roll of the tires or the music playing in his daughter's ears. "And once we get home and Chloe goes to her room," Matt murmured, "I'm going to take you upstairs and show you exactly how proud I am of you."
Erin let out a watery, surprised laugh, a sudden blush cutting right through her tears. She squeezed his hand back tightly, her eyes flashing with renewed warmth. "Is that a promise, Matthew?"
"If I’m lyin’ I’m dyin’," he winked.
Matt gave her fingers a final, affectionate squeeze before pulling his right hand back to grip the steering wheel. Bypassing the congested highway on-ramp, he steered the minivan down the slower, winding state route instead. The day was too beautiful to rush.
As they cruised past the edge of town, he rested his elbow on the open window frame and leaned into it, tipping his face directly into the oncoming rush of air. It smelled of cut grass and the very last remnants of summer. The draft whipped his messy blond hair straight back, making him half-close his eyes into the rushing slipstream. The afternoon sunlight moved across his furry forearm and warmed his flushed face, feeling incredibly good.
He drove with one large hand resting easily on the wheel, his chest expanding with a long, impossibly deep breath. His body ached beautifully from head to toe, completely drained and perfectly satisfied. He had made new friends, left everyone happier than when he found them, and was with his people—most of them, anyway—taking them safely back home.
His tail wasn’t wagging, but it might as well have been.
END
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