Chapter Text
"Randy... Randy, it's six AM, we gotta go."
The boy grunted and buried his face deeper into Benson's chest.
"Five more minutes."
"Five more minutes and somebody else is gonna take our spot in line."
That woke him up a little. He sat up, stretched his arms and rubbed his face in an attempt to leave his drowsiness behind.
Almost a month living out of Randy's car, and they'd already managed to build a routine.
"I need coffee."
"We can grab some after we leave the shelter."
"Fine, give me a minute," he yawned, grabbing his backpack. "Let's go."
The walk was always quiet. Neither of them had much to say. In the stillness of the early morning, when the streets were mostly empty, Randy allowed himself to hold Benson’s hand until they caught sight of the small group of people waiting in the distance. Then he let go. Around five people were ahead of them. Not a bad number.
It didn’t take long for the volunteers to call their names. People showered quickly. It was all a matter of having a time limit and getting used to it.
The shelter had six showers. Each day, up to fifteen people were allowed to use the facility’s bathrooms, whether they lived there or not.
The stalls had solid plastic partitions that were slightly see-through. At least they had these curtains, which only left their heels exposed and provided some sense of privacy.
They have anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes to clean themselves.
It was better than going to work smelling like burgers and yesterday’s grease. The shelter staff provided towels, soap, and shampoo. One less thing to worry about. Randy clutched his backpack against his chest. Inside were his work uniform and Benson’s clothes. Even with his locker key in his hand, he always worried that someone might try to force it open and steal their belongings. It had happened before. Not to them, but people talked about it a lot.
Today was their lucky day. They managed to get neighboring stalls. The partitions reached up to their necks, so every now and then they accidentally made eye contact. Whenever it happened, Randy couldn’t help blushing.
His muscles relaxed under the hot water, washing away every trace of sleepiness. His skin flushed red almost immediately. Benson teased him, saying he looked like a lobster. Ten minutes flew by, so he had to be quick and wash thoroughly, making sure not to leave a single trace of shampoo in his hair or soap on his body. He allowed himself about five seconds to enjoy the water sliding down from his back to his feet before Benson spoke.
“I’m ready”
“Give me a second…”
Randy exhaled all the air from his lungs and shut off the faucet. Another day to face, even if he wasn’t ready for it.
“Alright, let’s go.”
With towels hanging low around their hips, the two of them stepped out of the showers and headed to the changing room, a shared space with benches and lockers, with hooks lining the walls.
Other people were already there, shamelessly naked. Randy kept his eyes forward, embarrassed, turning his back to Benson. He still couldn’t get used to the level of exposure that came with his new lifestyle.
About twenty seconds later, Benson leaned over his shoulder, his warm breath tingling against the back of his neck. Randy had come to the conclusion that at least half of Benson’s actions weren’t accidental.
“You ready?”
Benson was always fast at everything, leaving Randy struggling with the last buttons of his shirt. He put on his jacket and zipped it all the way up, flattened his hair beneath the awful brown cap, and grabbed his backpack.
“Let’s go.”
On the way back, there was no hand-holding. Daylight didn’t lend itself to innocent affection between two men, and the bustle of the workday had filled the town’s streets. They bought a couple of coffees and donuts from Randy’s favorite café and were now heading back to the car.
During the first few days, the car had been spotless. After a while, clothes started piling up in the back seat, paper cups littered the floor, and snack wrappers filled the glove compartment. It was a reflection of Randy’s declining mental health. He was depressed. Some of his smiles no longer reached his eyes, and all he did when he wasn’t at work was sleep. He curled up against Benson’s chest like a puppy and wouldn’t open his eyes again until the next day. Benson didn’t want Randy to harden the way he had, didn’t want that spark that defined him to slowly burn out, because he wasn’t sure he had what it took to light it again.
“You’re making that face again.”
“What face?”
Randy took a small bite of his donut.
“The face you make when the bad thoughts start creeping in.”
Benson took his free hand and intertwined their fingers. The boy set his coffee on the dashboard, all his attention fixed on the man in front of him. He looked so pretty, even with the sadness in his eyes and the dark circles beneath them. Randy couldn’t be anything but pretty, no matter the circumstance. He didn’t deserve what was happening to him. Benson couldn’t stand watching him slowly fall apart.
“Has our current situation made you reconsider your mother’s offer?”
Benson joked.
Wrong choice of words. Benson had picked the worst possible moment to joke, if the hard look he received in return was any indication.
He didn’t even get the chance to explain himself or take it back.
“She doesn’t want me, Benson. Not really. I’m not going crawling back to humiliate myself for her forgiveness. She doesn’t want me, and she doesn’t want you either. We’re in this together. Our relationship isn’t negotiable.”
The determination in his voice was just as strong as it had been the first day. Randy truly believed he was making the right decision, even though the consequences were taking their toll on his entire body.
In a softer, quieter voice, he continued.
“I know this situation scares you, but I promise it’s temporary. I’m going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”
Both of them had repeated that phrase over and over again. Sometimes to themselves, sometimes to each other.
Benson opened his arms, and Randy settled between them. The hopefulness in the way he spoke about the future reminded Benson of himself on the night of his eighteenth birthday, back when the world had still felt like an open fan of possibilities instead of a maze with no exit.
Randy accidentally jerked his shoulder, and Benson flinched in pain. His back had been killing him for days now. The position they slept in only benefited Randy. And that was how it had to be. The least he could do was give him a safe, comfortable place to sleep.
“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.”
“It’s just my back. Don’t worry about it.” Benson glanced at Randy’s watch. “You should go, your shift starts soon.”
The boy was looking at him with those big blue eyes. Benson noticed he was practically swimming in his work uniform. He had lost weight in such a short time. He barely picked at his food before pushing it toward Benson. He didn’t have much of an appetite. Sometimes Benson managed to coax him into eating more between kisses. Randy would end up a giggling mess, swallowing with difficulty until nothing but crumbs remained.
Those were the good days. On the bad ones, like that day, Randy looked completely drained: eyes glassy, expression empty, and a half-eaten donut left abandoned next to him. He hadn’t even set foot inside the place yet, and already his whole demeanor shifted.
He pulled off his cap with a heavy sigh, revealing flattened, wet hair underneath. Then he gently rested his head on Benson’s shoulder. Benson couldn’t help himself, he just had to ask.
"What's going on with you?"
“I don’t want to talk about it."
Benson went quiet and leaned closer to him, brushing his cheek against Randy’s hair. He had a suspicion something was happening at his job. Randy always looked tense and anxious before leaving, like he had to gather courage just to walk into the place. But Randy built a wall whenever Benson got too close. It was an unresolved issue that kept bouncing around in his mind, growing more persistent every day. Randy had a right to keep some secrets, god knows he had his own collection of them, but if something or someone was hurting him, Benson had to do something about it. He could and should do something about it. In the meantime, he settled for making sure Randy ate, stayed hydrated, and got decent sleep.
“Earth to Benson. I said we could switch positions tonight”
“No way.”
Randy pouted.
“But your back.”
“I’m not gonna die from back pain. Besides, this is my only job. I’m your housewife. I look pretty, clean up your mess so you can make it again, and wait for you with hot food from questionable establishments. All paid for with your money.”
Randy grimaced, framing Benson’s face with his hands and resting his forehead against his.
Their breaths mingled.
“You know I don’t resent you for it."
“I know. But it’d be better if I had a job. Even a shitty one. I bet my experience in the field of prostitution would impress them.”
He laughed bitterly and was met with a dark expression.
“Don’t talk about yourself like that.”
“Randy, I made peace with my past a long time ago. You should too.”
That was only partially true, and they both knew it. Humor was a defense mechanism, a way to talk about his personal demons without pulling the emotional trigger that could shatter him if he let it. His eyes silently begged Randy not to push the subject any further, and Randy understood immediately.
He thanked him with a short kiss. Randy wasn’t ready to talk about his job, and Benson wasn’t ready to dig up his trauma without breaking apart in the process. They respected each other’s boundaries. They understood each other’s language. Benson liked that about Randy. He showed he cared without turning it into a lecture about opening up.
“I have an idea.”
“Tell me.”
“Let’s make out until I have to go in.”
"You literally have five minutes"
"I trust you can make these the best five minutes of my day."
Benson grinned, baring his teeth, and placed his hands on Randy’s waist. He still hadn’t solved his issues with sexual intimacy, but he was trying. He really was. He liked Randy as a man. Randy triggered a physical reaction in him. He wanted him. But whenever things grew heated and he felt Randy’s arousal, his mind went blank and his body snapped into survival mode, bracing for danger.
The last time they had kissed, both of them were completely absorbed in it. Benson held a fistful of Randy’s hair while Randy clung to the collar of his shirt. Randy was sitting in his lap when Benson felt it through his jeans. That was when he practically shoved Randy to the other side of the backseat. Randy looked like a kicked puppy, lips red and swollen, hair completely wrecked.
“I wasn’t trying to do anything… I’m sorry if I scared you, I swear I wasn’t trying anything. Shit, I’m sorry.”
Benson, who had finally caught his breath again, suddenly felt like crying. Randy would never hurt him. He knew that. So why couldn’t his stupid brain understand it?
It was absurd how much he wanted him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex with someone because he wanted to and not because money had been involved. Sex no longer meant pleasure. It only meant pain and filth.
He hated how guilty Randy looked in that moment. He knew the boy was brutally hard on himself, and he was going to torture himself over that for the rest of the week.
The memory made his smile falter.
“I think that’s a great idea, just…”
“I’m not sitting in your lap. And my hands are gonna stay where you can see them.”
Randy was a goddamn angel.
“Come here.”
....
It happened on a Wednesday. They were standing in line for the showers. Randy hadn’t been able to sleep all night and had barely taken a few bites of his dinner. Benson was practically pressed against his back, ready to catch him if he passed out. It was almost their turn when a tall, broad-shouldered man approached them. Benson immediately pushed Randy behind him and stepped between the two of them with a dry, distrustful look. The same one he had used the first time Randy approached him.
“Randy? Randy Bradley?”
Benson glanced at the boy, who narrowed his eyes before an expression of surprise and panic overtook his face.
“Donnie? I’ve never seen you around this early.”
“I know. I’ll have to get used to it. I’m covering Karla’s shift until she gets back from vacation.”
Randy held his towel and soap tight against his chest.His legs shifted restlessly, like he wanted to run far, far away from the situation.
He was embarrassed. It was a normal reaction given the circumstances, though it still stung a little, because this was Benson’s lifestyle. Randy had never shown that he was embarrassed by him. Yet now that it came to his own situation, it seemed like he’d rather the earth swallow him whole than be seen standing in line at a shelter.
He couldn’t get that thought out of his head, even though Randy had proven his loyalty countless times.
Benson’s presence carved a hole through the awkward small talk unfolding between them. Randy snapped out of his haze when Benson cleared his throat. At first, he didn’t understand why he had done it. The best thing he could do for Randy was stay unnoticed, until that Donnie guy placed a hand on Randy’s shoulder and Benson suddenly wanted to rip it off and shove it down his throat.
“This is Benson… my… um… friend.”
A kick to the stomach would’ve hurt less than that label. Benson hadn’t expected Randy to tell his coworker he was dating a homeless man, or more specifically, a homeless man fourteen years older than him. In a small, homophobic town like that, it was practically asking to become the target of a hate crime. They also hadn’t really discussed what to call whatever existed between them, but being reduced to a friend… that cut straight through him.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Donnie.”
The man smiled at him without a trace of disgust and held out his hand. His handshake was firm but friendly. He seemed kind, he was kind, and he didn’t make any comments or ask any questions about the particular place where they had run into each other. Benson allowed himself to lower his guard just a little, resting a hand against Randy’s lower back and tracing circles with his thumb until the boy’s shoulders relaxed.
“Well, I should get going. Don’t want to take up any more of your time. See you later, Randy.”
Randy offered him a tired smile and turned around, letting his head fall against Benson’s chest. He had only spoken to one person, and already he felt completely socially exhausted.
“Those were the worst ten minutes of the week, and it’s not even Friday yet.”
“You looked distressed. Are you afraid he’ll tell the others?”
Better to rip the bandage off. Better to compare his thoughts against Randy’s truth and find out if his mind was playing tricks on him again.
“It was only a matter of time before someone noticed. I’m upset, I’m embarrassed. I hate this. I know it’s not an ideal situation, and there’s no shame in accepting help. I’m being stupid, I’m sorry.”
Benson looked at him fondly. His boy was so honest, so aware of himself and the world around him. If they hadn’t been surrounded by people, he would’ve kissed him until he was breathless.
“Benson Walker, Randy Bradley,” Sonia, the woman in charge of organizing the shower schedule, called out. She was a woman in her fifties who treated everyone with the warmth and humanity of a good mother.
Randy looked up and followed Benson toward the entrance.
......
“Randy, can we talk?”
Donnie was standing by the door, taking out the trash from the night before. Randy’s heart galloped in his chest. Part of him had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Small-town nosiness striking again.
He walked toward him cautiously, as if slowing his pace could somehow delay the inevitable. Donnie gestured for him to step outside and shut the door behind them. Randy took off his cap and ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he’d picked up lately. Donnie lit a cigarette and exhaled smoke into the cold air.
“This morning… I know it’s none of my business, but…”
If Benson had been there, he would’ve said something like, “Exactly, none of your business. So fuck off.” But Randy wasn’t Benson, and Donnie seemed genuinely concerned. The little he knew about him was that he showed up, did his job, and went home. Detached from Jess and Chris’s antics and Karla’s gossip. But at the end of the day, it was hard to really know people, and Randy had a habit of expecting the worst from every situation, courtesy of his mother.
“I don’t want to assume anything, but… well. I know that shelter. I volunteered there when I was younger, you know…”
Randy decided to cut the suffering short before the conversation dragged on any further.
“I’m struggling right now. Okay? But I’m gonna fix it. I’m working on it.”
Even to his own ears, the statement sounded shaky, but he stood straight and rigid, his arms crossed defensively over his chest.
“Are you sleeping at the shelter?”
“No.”
A heartbeat. A silence heavy with uncertainty.
“Are you sleeping on the street?”
Almost.
Very nearly.
Maybe soon, if their luck ran out.
“No.”
"Where are you sleeping?"
Randy went pale, his lips pressed into a thin line. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He could always lie, but honestly, he was tired of pretending he had everything under control. The worst-case scenario was already happening. The gossip would spread like wildfire. What if they also discovered the nature of his relationship with Benson?
He wouldn’t deny it; Benson would call it a lack of self-preservation; Randy would call it love.
He let his arms fall to his sides and sighed, suddenly feeling deflated, small, helpless beneath Donnie’s patient gaze.
“In my car" he muttered, spent. Despite how quiet he was, Donnie seemed to hear him perfectly. His curiosity suddenly shifted into something that looked a lot like pity.
Randy’s stomach twisted. He hated pity.
“I’m really sorry.”
“You don’t have to...”
“I’m not gonna ask what happened. I’ve already been nosy enough for one day.”
Donnie seemed to think it over for a few minutes before making his offer.
“Look, I wasn’t planning on having a roommate, but I’ve got a pullout couch you could stay on until, you know, you get your situation sorted out.”
Randy stopped him with a gesture. This was the first real conversation he’d ever had with him. The offer was more than generous, but he couldn’t accept it.
“I appreciate it, but I’m not alone. My… friend is in the same situation I am, and I’m not leaving him behind.”
Friend. The word tasted bitter in his mouth. He hated reducing what he had with Benson to just friendship. But he also wasn’t in a position to reveal more about his private life. A nice guy could turn into a monster in a matter of seconds.
“It’s big enough for two people if you and your… friend don’t mind sharing. My sisters used to sleep there when they stayed over."
Hope settled deep in his chest, but Randy didn’t welcome it. The thought of sleeping on something soft and plush, and not having to rush through showers in under fifteen minutes surrounded by other men, felt too good to be true.
Donnie was still a stranger beyond the handful of things Randy had learned about him in that short span of time.
Randy swallowed hard.
“I appreciate it, Donnie.” His face finished the sentence for him, offering an apologetic smile and a slight shrug.
“If you change your mind, you’re always welcome at my home.”
Then he opened the door and returned to work. Randy stayed outside for another second, staring up at the sky with tears in his eyes. He had to pull himself together before his shift ended. He wasn’t going to cry in front of Benson, who still felt responsible for Randy getting kicked out of his house.
He missed Hailey barging into his room without permission.
He missed sleeping with Shadow curled up against him and waking up to wet licks across his face.
And even though she was the main cause of his current suffering, he still missed the mother who used to make pancakes for dinner and kiss the crown of his head before going to sleep. The mother who was still proud of him.
Would he like things to be different?
Yes.
Would he trade Benson to get his life back?
Absolutely not.
….
The inside of the car felt different that night. Thanks to Benson’s efforts to clean and organize every corner, the air felt lighter, and the cramped space no longer felt chaotic. The clutter of wrappers and dirty clothes was gone, leaving only their shirts, sweaters and pants, neatly folded, on one side.
“Did you go to the laundromat?”
“Yeah, I used the money you left in the glove compartment. Is that okay?”
“Of course. My money is your money. Now come closer.”
Benson settled into the back seat, sitting cross-legged, turning his back to Randy.
Randy positioned himself right behind him.
He placed his hands on Benson’s bare shoulders. The skin was warm, a direct contrast to his own fingers. He started slowly, using the base of his palms to loosen the knots in Benson’s traps.
“Tell me if I’m pressing too hard,” Randy whispered near the back of his neck.
“No… it’s perfect,” Benson murmured, letting his head fall forward.
Randy kept going, sliding his thumbs down along the sides of his spine until he reached the lower back muscles, which gave in slowly under his steady pressure. Soft sounds broke through the silence that had fallen inside the car.
“Mmm…” Benson let out. It was pure relief, drawn from pushing his body to the very limit just so his boy could be comfortable.
Randy’s throat bobbed. Benson was letting his guard down completely. With every firm press from Randy, Benson let out low little moans that lingered in the dim light.
“Ah… yeah… right there, Randy… please…” Benson whispered. His voice sounded rough, pulled apart by relaxation and relief.
Randy felt an electric jolt run down his spine. He couldn’t help it. His mind started to drift, betraying him. He imagined them in a room with real walls, the sounds not caused by muscle strain, but by something else entirely, by being touched, by being wanted. He imagined kissing his neck, right where Benson’s pulse beat strong and steady.
“Fuck, it feels… it feels so good… don’t stop, please…”
That was his limit. Randy felt the blood rush to his groin with a tightness he could no longer ignore.
He pulled his hands away abruptly, as if Benson’s skin had burned his palms. He leaned back, hitting his shoulders against the door in a clumsy motion.
How could he be so selfish? Randy scolded himself internally. He looked at the back of Benson’s neck, remembering the nights the man woke up trembling, or the times he tensed up at anything too sudden. Feeling desire in that moment felt like a violation. Like he was some predator lurking in the only place that was supposed to be Benson’s refuge. It hurt that his body reacted like that when Benson was only trying to rest.
“Benson… please don’t,” Randy said, his voice noticeably rougher and broken.
Benson froze for a moment, before slowly rotating to face him. Under the car’s interior light, Benson noticed Randy’s heavy breathing but didn’t comment on it.
“Sorry, my hands cramped up.”
Randy pulled his knees tightly to his chest, trying to hide his arousal. Benson simply nodded and pulled his shirt back on, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck.
Randy was going to die right there.
“You’re acting weird.”
“I’m not acting weird. I’m tired.”
“Do you want me to give you a massage instead?”
He said, starting to lean closer.
“NO. I’m fine.”
His palms were up, defensive. He was acting like a lunatic for being hard. He just didn’t want Benson thinking he was some kind of horny dog.
He needed to change the subject.
Fast.
“Donnie talked to me.”
That seemed to immediately catch Benson’s attention. He leaned forward, his gaze sharp and vulnerable at the same time, like someone bracing for impact. Randy didn’t blame him. Things hadn’t exactly been good lately, and if anyone knew people had a tendency to be shitty, it was him.
“What did he say?”
Randy looked down to his bitten nails, bloody from constant chewing.
“He asked questions, and then I answered them. Like, really answered them… and then he offered me something…”
Benson’s eyes darkened even more. His hands clenched into fists in his lap. He looked like an animal ready to tear down the bars of its cage.
“Did he… Randy, is that why you’re acting weird?”
Randy followed his train of thought and quickly corrected him.
“What? No. No, of course not. He said he had a pullout couch at his place, big enough for the two of us.”
That seemed to calm him a little, but Benson still wasn’t completely at ease. With suspicion, he added.
“And what does he want in return?”.
“He didn’t say, but it only makes sense he’d want my share for rent, food and utilities. It must be hard paying for it all on your own. We’re in the same job bracket, we don’t earn much.”
“Even so. Who offers a bed to someone who isn’t even their friend? He only knows you from work. You could be a psychopath.”
“I did that with you.”
Benson paused to think for a second, then continued.
“Well, you’re the exception.”
“Don’t worry, I turned him down. Though, you know, it was nice believing for a moment that the solution to one of our biggest problems was actually possible.”
Benson’s expression softened; every trace of the hardened man faded away, yet the lines on his face seemed deeper than usual. They were both equally exhausted.
Randy spoke again.
“You know what? I need some air.”
He carefully lowered his legs and opened the car door. The bitter cold seeped inside, biting at Benson’s bare arms, which were exposed to the elbows.
Randy stayed outside, leaning against the hood, watching nothing in particular. Benson joined him after putting on a jacket. The scenery changed every day. They never parked in the same place for long out of fear of drawing unwanted attention.
“Do you think Donnie will rat us out?”
“Not really. He seems like a good guy.”
“Do you regret saying no?”
“Are you reconsidering it already?”
Benson didn’t answer right away. His head went elsewhere for a second. The snow piled up along the edge of the windshield, the white layer slowly covering everything else, as if the whole world could vanish beneath it.
“Maybe…” he started, then stopped. He clicked his tongue, annoyed with himself. “Maybe we could try it. Just for a while.”
Randy turned toward him, surprised.
“I don’t like it,” Benson clarified immediately, as if he needed to defend himself. “I don’t trust people easily. Never have. But…” His gaze drifted back to Randy, to his slumped shoulders, to that exhaustion that didn’t go away anymore, not even with sleep. “I don’t like seeing you like this either.”
Randy frowned.
“Benson, Donnie’s got at least half a foot on you. He’s not exactly someone easy to tackle if something goes wrong.”
A crooked smirk appeared on Benson's mouth, something between irony and pride.
“I’ve gone up against guys bigger than him.”
“How many times did you win?”
“But I stayed standing,” he replied with a shrug. “Besides, I’m not saying I trust him. I’m saying we can stay alert. A couch isn’t a chain. If there’s anything we don’t like, we leave.”
Randy watched him closely. Benson knew he had let that faint glimmer of hope show on his face, and he loathed it. He feared the outside world would crush him all over again, simply because he had dared to hold even a tiny spark of faith in someone other than Randy.
“I don’t want you doing this for me,” Randy said.
“Too late,” Benson answered, softer this time. “I always do things for you. I’d just rather us not freeze to death in the process.”
A different kind of silence settled between them, lighter somehow. Benson hadn’t stopped distrusting Donnie, not even for a second. But as he looked at Randy, he thought that maybe being strong wasn’t always about fighting. Sometimes it was about accepting a truce.
“We think it through carefully, okay?" he added firmly. “Just thinking about it already helps a little, right?”
Randy nodded slowly.
Despite Benson’s last words the excitement Randy had felt earlier had faded somewhere in the middle of the conversation. Now he was just standing there, staring out into the night, feeling lost. He’d never thought he would end up in a situation like this. Never thought about how much he would sacrifice for being in love. Never thought about how easy it would be for his mother to throw him out like a dog.
He didn’t know anything about her anymore, only about Hailey, who was being monitored constantly so they wouldn’t see each other. Their mother drove her to school and picked her up afterward. No more school bus. Whenever she wasn’t going to be home, she left Hailey at Mrs. Darbus’s house with strict instructions not to let her go outside. Sleepovers at her friends’ houses had been suspended indefinitely. She was even there during dance practice now. She didn’t want Randy’s bad decisions influencing her too.
Hailey barely managed to tell him about her situation through a few texts a couple of days ago. In her last message, she said she was having her phone checked now too, and since then, it had been complete radio silence.
It was insane.
His mother had lost her mind. Not satisfied with throwing him out of the house, she had cut his own sister and the dog he had rescued out of his life too.
Benson looked around carefully. There was no one else walking nearby.
He cornered Randy gently, taking hold of his chin before kissing him softly.
“We’re gonna get through this.”
He said it more for Randy’s sake than his own. Benson was a lifelong pessimist, but he wouldn’t let that touch his boy. He’d do whatever it took to keep him afloat. Even if he drowned in the process.