The Grandview Hotel buzzed with a pristine elegance that felt both exciting and suffocating to Leo. His dad, bless his newly-found happiness, was marrying Carol. Carol was lovely, genuinely so, and Leo wanted to be happy for them. But the whole situation felt… surreal. Because there was Richard, Carol’s father.
Richard, he was a silver fox of a man, with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a voice that rumbled like distant thunder. He carried himself with a quiet confidence that bordered on arrogance, an arrogance that Leo, much to his own surprise, found… intriguing.
Their first real interaction occurred during the rehearsal dinner. Leo was fiddling with his tie, feeling like a gauche teenager trapped in a penguin suit. Richard, noticing his discomfort, offered a wry smile.
“Having trouble there, son?”
Leo stammered a reply, and Richard, with surprising gentleness, stepped closer, his fingers brushing against Leo’s as he expertly adjusted the knot. The warmth of his hand lingered longer than necessary, and Leo found himself momentarily breathless.
“Much better,” Richard said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Don't want you looking like you're being choked at your father's wedding, do we?"
Over the next few days, their paths kept crossing. A shared chuckle over a seating chart mishap, a brief conversation about classic cars (Richard’s passion), a shared appreciation for the hotel’s surprisingly good scotch. Each interaction was a tiny spark, igniting a flicker of something unexpected in Leo. He found himself seeking out Richard’s gaze, drawn to the sharp intelligence and underlying humor that lurked beneath the polished surface.
He fought it, of course. This was his dad’s wedding! Richard was going to be his step-grandfather! The very idea was preposterous, scandalous, and… undeniably tempting. He told himself it was the free-flowing champagne, the romantic atmosphere, the general delirium of the wedding festivities that were clouding his judgment.
Richard seemed to be fighting his own battle as well. He maintained a polite distance, offering the occasional compliment, a knowing glance, but nothing overtly flirtatious. He was a master of subtle suggestion, a dangerous dance of unspoken desires.
The wedding itself was a blur of well-wishes and forced smiles. Leo watched his father and Carol exchange vows, a knot forming in his stomach that had nothing to do with happiness. He caught Richard's eye across the room, a fleeting look that held a mixture of concern and something else… something that mirrored the turmoil within Leo himself.
The reception was loud, glittering, and ultimately, unbearable. Leo found himself escaping to the hotel bar, nursing a whiskey and trying to drown out the booming music and the forced gaiety. He was surprised, but not entirely, when Richard sat down beside him.
"Everything alright, Leo?" Richard asked, his voice soft against the din.
"Just… a lot," Leo admitted, avoiding Richard’s gaze.
Richard chuckled, a low, sensual sound. "Weddings often are. A lot of everything."
They sat in silence for a moment, the tension between them thick and palpable. Leo could feel Richard’s gaze on him, assessing, questioning. Finally, Richard spoke, his voice barely a whisper.
"You know," he said, "this whole thing… it feels a little… dishonest."
Leo finally met his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. "What do you mean?"
Richard shrugged, a gesture that was both casual and intensely provocative. "Pretending we don't see each other. Pretending we don't feel… something."
Leo swallowed hard. "Richard, this is… impossible."
"Is it?" Richard leaned closer, his breath warm against Leo's ear. "Or is it just… forbidden?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken desire. Leo knew he should walk away, should run as far as he could from this dangerous game. But he couldn't. He was drawn to Richard’s magnetism, to the thrill of transgression.
"I..." Leo stammered, unable to finish the sentence.
Richard stood up and extended his hand. "Come on," he said, his voice husky. "Let's get some air."
They walked silently through the elegant lobby, out onto the manicured terrace overlooking the city lights. The cool night air did little to cool the fire that had been ignited between them. They stood for a long moment, facing each other, the unspoken question hanging in the air.
Finally, Leo broke the silence. "My dad…"
Richard placed a finger on Leo's lips. "Your dad is celebrating his new marriage," he said softly. "Let's not worry about your dad right now."
He lowered his head and kissed Leo, a slow, deliberate kiss that sent shivers down Leo's spine. It was a kiss that erased all doubts, all reservations, all sense of propriety. It was a kiss that tasted of forbidden fruit and reckless abandon.
Later, much later, Leo found himself standing outside Richard’s hotel room. The clock ticked away the minutes, each tick a hammer blow against his resolve. He knew he shouldn't be here. He knew the consequences of his actions could be devastating. But he couldn't resist. He raised his hand and knocked.
The door opened, and Richard stood there, a question in his eyes. Leo didn't say a word. He simply stepped inside, and the door closed behind him, sealing them in a world of stolen moments and forbidden desires while, somewhere down the hall, his father and new stepmother were engaged in their own marital bliss. The irony wasn't lost on Leo, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the man standing before him, the man he knew he shouldn’t want, but desperately did.
