And sometimes, pretending failed. Even for adults. For all of his proselytizing and fancy speeches, Nick was showing himself to be a first class hypocrite. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe what he’d been telling Ben, but somehow maybe he was just immune to it. He deserved a night out. And honestly, admitting that the only partner he’d had in quite some time was his own hand, well…that had to be stopped.

So, out he went and drunk off his ass he got. And to make the night complete, here he was, slamming himself into the body of some nameless female who probably thought she’d be the one to turn him to monogamy, maturity and, God forbid, morality.

His head throbbed from the excessive alcohol he’d consumed and he was quickly growing tired from the marathon session he’d had with the beauty beneath him. She was a wild one to be sure, but as usual, she had that glazed look in her eye that said “love”. Oh yeah, after she blew him in the cab and he took her home, he’d give it all up and make her his. Hardly.

Finally getting out of his head, he looked down to the blonde and tried to focus in on her. Something was wrong when the first pussy you got in over a month wasn’t enough to keep your attention for the whole deed. What was happening to him? Outside of the stage, this was his stage. He loved sex. He was good at sex. He had lots of sex. But suddenly, he was bored with it all.

“Look at me, Nicky. Cum with me.”

Okay, he was a normal guy. Talk to him that way and he’d focus in alright. Pounding her harder, he finally felt the end nearing and he did as asked and bore his eyes into hers, feeling her walls clamp around him, filling her, emptying himself. Yes, emptying himself. As usual…

…pretending didn’t always work.

“Why aren’t you ready?” Nick ran a hand through his hair and groaned. Every strand hurt. Every movement in the room cause a dull thud to sound through his head. This dump of a house had never been so noisy before, had it?

“Because Amy spilled her cereal and I had to clean it up. Keep your pants on.”

Where were you last night with that lovely bit of advice? “Just hurry up, okay? I wanna get out of here.”

“Finding my other shoe…” Ben crawled on the floor, pulling clothes, Lego’s, beat up stuffed animals and homework papers from underneath, finally shouting in victory. “Woohoo! There it is!”

“Jesus, Ben…keep it down, huh?” Nick rubbed his eyes and plastered on a smile to Patty who had been sizing him up a bit more than usual. She was certainly coherent this morning. And what the hell had gotten into Ben? Sure he had improved his attitude a bit since their discussion, and since Miss Romero met with him, but this chipper, perky shit. Where did that come from? Naturally it’d show up the day Nick had a hang-over from hell.

“Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

“Got your book?”

“Oh…hang on…” Flipping back the blanket on his bed, Ben found his backpack and grabbed it, giving his mom a kiss on his way to the door. “Now I’m ready.”

“God, you’re gonna do me in.”

“What’s up your ass anyway?”

“Right now…that’d be you. What are we studying today?”

“Math.”

“Of course. Math.”

“We’re getting coffee first.”

“Whatever. You don’t look so good.”

“Thanks. Neither do you. You want somethin’?” Nick pulled his truck into the drive-thru and looked to his charge wondering how long it had been since the kid had washed his hair.

“Vanilla Crème and a cappuccino.”

“Cappuccino???”

“Yeah…so?”

“God…okay. Pulling all the way up to the window, Nick groaned when the clerk’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“Can I help you?”

“Mmm…yeah. Large coffee, 2 vanilla crèmes and a large cappuccino.”

“Flavor?”

“Huh?”

“What flavor of cappuccino do you want? Hazelnut or French Vanilla.”

Jesus…it’s sissy coffee…who cares? “French Vanilla!” Ben yelled across the truck and mirrored Nick’s glare. What a pain in the ass he was this morning.

“Yeah…that.”

Handing the bag to Ben, Nick scolded as he immediately dug in. “Just wait ‘til we get to the center, huh?”

“Why?”

“Cuz I don’t want you sloppin’ crème all over my truck…just hang on. We’re almost there.”

Slamming back into his seat, Ben asked sarcastically, “Can I drink my cap yet, Daddy or do I have to wait for that too?”

“Go ahead…burn your damned tongue off. I don’t care.”

Nick ignored his own advice and brought the hot coffee to his lips and pulled back with a start, jerking the steering wheel and splashing a bit on his leg. “Oh fuck!”

“Smooth move. Burn your damned tongue off?” Ben grabbed a napkin from the bag and handed it to Nick who was busy waving in apology to the car he’d jerked in front of and trying to steady his shaky hand enough to put his cup in the holder.

“Just shut up, okay? Don’t talk ‘til we get to the center.”

“Yeah, yeah…you need to come with a warning label, man. I’d have slept in had I known you were gonna be such a jerk this morning.”