Hercules
Hercules was fucking sick of people questioning everything he did. It was his life, wasn’t it? Couldn’t he just live it in peace? ‘Apparently fucking not’ he thought, snarl building on his normally calm lips. He stood abruptly, before he could say anything he’d regret, and stalked out of the house. He loved his family, truly he did, but they could be so nosy and judgemental. He spent three blocks consumed in his own thoughts before, “Oof!”
“Ouch!”
Hercules stumbled back a step. After catching his balance, he looked down to see a slightly disgruntled person on the sidewalk staring up at him. His irritated expression quickly shifted to one of rueful embarrassment. “Sorry about that.” he said, extending a hand to help the stranger up. They accepted his hand and introduced themself.
“Marie Paul-Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette,” they said, smiling. “Pronouns they/them. Rough day, mon ami?” Hercules blinked, attempting to process their name. Lafayette laughed at his struck expression. “Call me Lafayette. Come, we shall have coffee and you can tell docteur Laf all about your problems, and possibly your name.” Hercules blushed.
“Hercules Mulligan.” he said. “Pronouns he/him?” Lafayette hummed in acknowledgement and started off towards their favorite coffee shop, Hercules in tow. Once inside, they waved at the barista, who nodded and set about making two drinks, before steering Hercules to a slightly private corner table.
“Um, thanks, Lafayette.” Hercules mumbled. Lafayette grinned.
“Do not thank me yet, mon nouvel ami. You’ve yet to even taste the tea, nevermind tell me what is bothering you.” Lafayette stated, chuckling slightly. “Now, tell me, s’il vous plait, or I shall commence guessing.” Hercules cocked his head for a moment, considering. He didn’t even know this person. Why would he tell them his life story or problems? But their eyes were so earnest —trusting and warm brown —and the way they leaned forward in their seat, it was as though they actually cared.
“I got a tattoo, the other day.” Hercules began. “My Da saw it earlier, told my Mam. They flipped.” Hercules paused as the barista delivered their drinks, smiling and nodding in thanks before turning back to Lafayette, who thanked the barista as well and turned to look appraisingly at Hercules.
“But that is not all, mon ami? Is it?” they asked, raising an eyebrow. Hercules shook his head and inhaled deeply.
“They started in on me, questioning like they always do when they don’t like my decisions. Why did I get the tattoo? Why did I get my ear pierced? Why don’t I have a girlfriend? Why do I like fashion? Why-”
“Are you like this.” Lafayette interrupted, brow furrowing as a frown took over their features. Hercules looked at them as though they’d offered the secret to the universe. Lafayette’s frown turned into a wistful smile. “You seem surprised. Your parents are hardly the only people in the universe to ask such questions.” They paused, took a sip of their coffee, checked their watch. “I am afraid I do not have much more time to chat, but remember this: your decisions, and the motivations behind them, are your own. If you do not question them, no one else will ever need to know the answers.” They placed a ten on the table, picked up their drink, and stood to leave.
“Wait!” Hercules cried. “There’s this pizza place two blocks over. Let me buy you dinner as thanks?” Lafayette smiled a small, genuine smile.
“Would seven be acceptable?” they asked. Hercules nodded.
“Of course, see you then,” he agreed. Lafayette flashed him a quick, megawatt grin and strolled out of the door. Hercules sat back in his chair, considering their words as he sipped on the surprisingly delicious tea Lafayette had ordered. After a couple minutes of quiet contemplation, he slugged the rest of his drink back, threw out the cup, and went home. And if his parents restarted their interrogation as soon as he opened the door, they certainly received no satisfying answers nor drew any of Hercules’ ire.