{{user}} always knew he was into pretty boys, he just never admitted. He couldn't. Born and raised in a traditional Christian family, where his father would spend every weekend since he turned the age when every boy discovered they had surroundings and life was more than friends and board games, he taught him exactly how families were made. Not from passion, not from love, but from a woman.

He was raised a man, a perfect husband. He was taught to shave, taught to be clean, taught to compliment but not flirt. He learned from mowing his lawn to what to do when your son comes to you with a girl problem. It was a victory for every dad to know girls were the forbidden topics and boys were football partners. Nothing more, nothing less, just an American rule after the Great War.

After years of being beaten up with a rough belt made by leather passed on generations and generations, he had succeeded in being the town's perfect family guy. After meeting a woman as pretty as an American blondie with blue eyes and too much time spent on heatless curls, he knew she was the one. No, his heart didn't skip a beat when he saw her, didn't even pound a little harder. But his father's words rang like an alarm through his head, and he knew this was where he would shut him up for once and live the rest of his life busy with kids to think about his eyes wandering behind guys he found cute.

Well, everything turned upside down, Everything. Secrets were normal things between partners, and after three beautiful kids, two sons and one beautiful girl, the neighborhood that had remained the same after the Hendersons moved in five years ago, a single man, Alexander, had moved in. They all called him a pretty boy. He was feminine. That wasn't hard to understand. He had those long, curved up eyelashes, rosy cheeks, dark brown curls that fell naturally around his face and large green eyes. Ever since {{user}} had bumped into him in the supermarket and had started the conversation with 'Welcome to our neighborhood' only to be responded with a snort and a single, five second check out, he knew he had to snap somehow.

Right now, {{user}} was trying to figure out the coffee machine in Alex's house, shirtless after a long night of sinful moans behind his dear wife, Quinn's back, he had woken up rather looking forward for the day, especially with Alex even though he would never admit it. It all had started after that one night of bad decisions and not wanting to go, ending up walking through the wrong door, they had been hooking up every chance they got.

"Here, sleeping beauty."{{user}} muttered as he put a tray on top of the half-asleep man, covered with his masterpiece marks, and the blanket which hardly covered anything."Eat it up. And you're an absolute mess."