Chapter 3 Hidden Damage #2
Most homeowners wouldn't have expected him to return until the next morning.
Most plumbers wouldn't have volunteered.
Yet somehow he found himself driving through the rain toward Liam's neighborhood anyway.
He told himself it made sense.
The materials were available now.
Tomorrow's work would move faster if everything was already on-site.
Perfectly reasonable.
Entirely professional.
At least that was the explanation he gave himself.
The fact that he didn't fully believe it was a separate issue.
Rain drummed against the windshield as he turned into the familiar driveway.
Warm light glowed behind several windows.
For reasons he couldn't explain, the sight felt welcoming.
That realization irritated him.
A house shouldn't feel welcoming.
A customer definitely shouldn't.
Mason grabbed the materials from the truck and headed toward the front door.
Before he could knock, the door opened.
Liam stood there wearing a dark sweatshirt and loose sweatpants.
His hair looked slightly damp, as though he'd recently showered.
He blinked in surprise.
"Mason?"
"I picked up the supplies."
Liam looked past him toward the truck.
"Tonight?"
"They were available."
The explanation sounded weak even to his own ears.
Fortunately, Liam didn't question it.
Instead, a smile appeared.
The simple expression did something unexpected to Mason's chest.
"Come in."
Mason stepped inside.
The familiar warmth greeted him immediately.
Unlike the houses he usually worked in, this one no longer felt completely unfamiliar.
That thought bothered him more than it should have.
Liam closed the door behind him.
"I wasn't expecting you back."
"I figured."
"Still glad you came."
The words seemed innocent.
Maybe they were.
For some reason, Mason found himself looking away first.
He carried the supplies into the kitchen.
The repairs had left several sections of wall exposed, making the room look unfinished and slightly chaotic.
Yet somehow it still felt comfortable.
Lived in.
A home.
Mason set down the materials and began organizing everything for the next day.
Liam lingered nearby.
Not hovering exactly.
Just present.
"Have you eaten?" Liam asked.
The question caught him off guard.
Mason checked the time again.
Nearly seven.
"No."
"Me neither."
Mason nodded.
The conversation should have ended there.
Instead, Liam continued.
"We should probably fix that."
Mason looked up.
Liam shrugged.
"You're here."
The logic sounded suspiciously simple.
"You don't have to feed me."
"I know."
Liam crossed his arms.
"But I can."
Mason opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Then gave up.
"Fine."
The grin that immediately appeared on Liam's face made surrender feel strangely worthwhile.
A few minutes later, they sat at the kitchen counter debating takeout options.
The discussion somehow became more complicated than any repair decision they'd made all week.
"You seriously don't like Thai food?"
Mason shook his head.
"No."
"How?"
"I just don't."
"That's not an explanation."
"It's the only one you're getting."
Liam looked genuinely horrified.
Mason laughed.
The expression immediately softened into amusement.
Eventually they settled on pizza.
Simple.
Safe.
Easy.
While waiting for delivery, Mason continued organizing repair plans.
Liam sat nearby pretending to review university notes.
Pretending being the important word.
Every few minutes the younger man looked up and asked another question.
Some involved plumbing.
Others didn't.
"How long have you been doing this?" Liam asked.
"Plumbing?"
"Yeah."
"Almost fifteen years."
Liam lowered his textbook.
"Seriously?"
Mason nodded.
"Started young."
"What made you choose it?"
The question surprised him.
Most people never asked.
They simply assumed.
Good money.
Practical work.
End of discussion.
"I liked building things."
The answer felt strange spoken aloud.
"My grandfather taught me."
Liam listened carefully.
As always.
"He was a plumber too?"
"Electrician."
A smile tugged briefly at Mason's mouth.
"He taught me most of what I know about working with my hands."
The memory felt unexpectedly warm.
His grandfather had been gone nearly ten years.
Some days it still felt recent.
Liam seemed to sense the shift in his mood.
"He sounds important."
"He was."
The simple answer carried more truth than Mason intended.
The conversation drifted naturally from there.
Jobs.
Families.
School.
Life.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing deeply personal.
Yet somehow every topic felt meaningful.
The pizza arrived shortly afterward.
Within minutes they settled around the dining table surrounded by boxes, drinks, and scattered repair paperwork.
The setup should have felt ridiculous.
Instead, it felt comfortable.
Dangerously comfortable.
Mason found himself relaxing in a way he rarely allowed.
That realization alone should have served as a warning.
Then Liam spoke again.
"What were you doing at twenty-one?"
The question caught him completely off guard.
Mason considered it.
"Working."
"That's it?"
"Pretty much."
Liam laughed.
"There has to be more than that."
"There really isn't."
The younger man shook his head.
"No college?"
"No."
"No travel?"
"No."
"No dramatic life adventures?"
Mason smirked.
"I unclogged a lot of drains."
That earned a groan.
"You're impossible."
The laughter that followed lingered longer than expected.
Then Liam's smile faded slightly.
Not completely.
Just enough for Mason to notice.
The shift seemed genuine.
Unplanned.
"What?" Mason asked.
Liam hesitated.
For a moment it looked like he might dismiss the question.
Instead, he sighed.
"I don't know what I'm doing."
The admission sounded quieter than everything else they'd discussed that evening.
Mason frowned.
"With what?"
"My future."
The answer came immediately.
No hesitation.
No joke.
Just honesty.
Liam looked down at his drink.
"I'm graduating next year."
Mason remained silent.
The younger man continued.
"I picked literature because I love it."
A humorless laugh escaped him.
"Everybody keeps asking what I'm going to do afterward."
The words sounded painfully familiar.
"What do you tell them?"
"The truth."
Liam smiled weakly.
"I have no idea."
For some reason, the answer hit harder than it should have.
Maybe because he remembered being twenty-one.
Not the details.
Just the uncertainty.
The feeling that everyone else possessed some secret roadmap to adulthood.
"Most people don't."
Liam looked up.
"What?"
"They don't know."
The younger man frowned.
"Know what?"
"What they're doing."
Mason leaned back slightly.
"Some just get better at pretending."
For several seconds Liam stared at him.
Then he laughed.
A real laugh.
One filled with relief.
"That's comforting."
"It's true."
The smile lingered.
"I thought you had everything figured out."
The statement surprised Mason.
"Me?"
"Yeah."
Liam gestured vaguely.
"You always seem so confident."
That earned an unexpected laugh.
"If only."
The younger man looked unconvinced.
Mason shook his head.
"Trust me."
Then, before he could stop himself, he added:
"I spent years screwing things up."
The words hung briefly between them.
Liam didn't push.
Didn't pry.
Just listened.
That ability continued surprising him.
Most people rushed to fill silence.
Liam seemed comfortable letting it exist.
Eventually Mason spoke again.
"You don't need every answer right now."
The advice sounded simple.
Maybe obvious.
Yet he meant it.
"You're twenty-one."
Liam groaned.
"I hate when people say that."
Mason laughed.
"Why?"
"Because it usually means they're about to tell me my problems aren't real."
The answer made sense.
Mason nodded.
"Your problems are real."
The younger man looked genuinely surprised.
"Then what are you saying?"
Mason considered the question carefully.
Then answered honestly.
"I'm saying you've got time."
Silence followed.
Not awkward.
Thoughtful.
Liam looked down at the table.
When he finally smiled, it seemed different somehow.
Softer.
More genuine.
"Thanks."
Two simple words.
Nothing more.
Yet the gratitude felt real.
And for reasons Mason couldn't explain, that mattered.
Far more than it should have.
By the time dinner ended, the rain had intensified outside.
Darkness covered the neighborhood.
The evening had slipped away almost unnoticed.
Mason helped clear the table before gathering his things.
Liam followed him toward the front door.
"See you tomorrow."
"Yeah."
The familiar response felt easier than it should have.
Almost routine.
Dangerously routine.
Mason stepped onto the porch.
Cold air greeted him immediately.
Rain splashed against the driveway.
Behind him, warm light spilled through the open doorway.
For one brief moment, neither moved.
Then Liam smiled.
The expression wasn't flirtatious.
Wasn't suggestive.
Just genuine.
The kind of smile someone gave when they were happy you'd been there.
That thought followed Mason all the way to his truck.
And unfortunately, it followed him during the drive home too.
By the time he reached his apartment, he found himself replaying pieces of the evening.
The conversation about the future.
The laughter.
The pizza.
The way Liam listened when people spoke.
The way he seemed genuinely interested in everything.
Mason sat in the driver's seat for several seconds after turning off the engine.
The attraction was manageable.
He could deal with attraction.
Attraction happened.
People were attractive.
End of story.
What bothered him wasn't attraction.
It was everything else.
The concern.
The curiosity.
The desire to know how Liam's story turned out.
That was different.
Far more dangerous.
Because somewhere between the flooded kitchen and tonight's conversation, Mason had stopped seeing Liam as just another customer.
And whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was becoming emotionally invested.
That realization stayed with him long after he finally went inside.
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