Bear, Otter, & the Kid 01 - Bear, Otter, & the Kid (MM)

by T. J. Klune

  “Meddle about what?” I asked, not wanting to know.

  He shook his head and put his arms up and back, stretching. “You know,” he said, “I’ve only got Otter’s best interests at heart. I don’t know why he doesn’t see it that way.”

  It was hot but I felt a chill. “What did you do?”

  He looked surprised. “I didn’t do anything. Jesus Christ, you guys are spending way too much time together. You’re starting to sound like him.”

  I shrugged, ignoring the comment. “Fine,” I conceded, “what did he do?”

  “It’s what he’s been doing, Bear. I mean, come on: you’ve seen him. He’s been skipping around here for the last two months like he hasn’t a goddamn care in the world. He won’t tell me what’s going on. And from what you’ve told me,” he said, looking at me pointedly, “he hasn’t said anything to you, either.”

  “Maybe there’s nothing to say, Creed. Can’t a person be happy and not have to have some big reason for it?”

  He laughed. “You would think so, but no. Not with Otter. You should know that as well as I do. That guy wears his heart on his sleeve. If there is something for him to be happy about, he shows it. Just like if something is tearing him up, he shows that too. Remember when he first got here?”

  I nodded.

  “I’d never seen him like that before,” Creed said, looking out over his backyard. “I didn’t know what to do. But then I go away for a couple of weeks, and I come back, and I see him like I’ve never seen him before again. But it’s completely opposite, right? Like he’s found the greatest thing in the world, and he’s over the goddamn moon about it. At first I thought he was bipolar or some shit, but it hasn’t gone away. For two fucking months now, it’s been all happy and rosy. I want to know what the hell happened to make him turn around like that.”

  I looked down at my hands, trying not to show the glow that had started to burn through my body. It’s because of me, I thought, filling with wonder. Your brother is like that because of me.

  I made up my mind in that instant and was about to tell Creed everything when he said, “I think it’s because of Jonah.”

  Uh—what?

  “Jonah?” I spat, unable to keep the venom from my voice. Creed didn’t seem to notice.

  “Yeah, I think he and Jonah started to work things out, and that’s what’s going on with him. I ask him about it, and of course he denies it like the little bitch he is, but I hear them talking on the phone every now and then. I can never make out what they’re saying, no matter how hard I try. But what else is there? It’s not like he’s fucking anyone else here in Seafare. He’s either with me, or he’s with you. And I can guarantee it’s not either of us that’s making him all giddy and gay.”

  My mind wouldn’t compute. “He talks to Jonah on the phone?” I asked stupidly.

  Creed glanced over at me, completely oblivious to the fact that seawater had made its way up to my knees in just a few seconds. He couldn’t hear the storm just off the coast because it was in my head. It’s always in my head. “Every once in a while, they do,” he told me. “But like I said, he won’t tell me anything about it.”

  “Why would he be talking to him?” I asked, more to myself than to Creed.

  “Why wouldn’t he?” Creed said, perplexed. “Jonah used to be his boyfriend. Otter’s not the kind of person that can just wipe someone away.” And those words sounded familiar, and then I remembered that Otter had said the same thing, right after we’d had sex the first time. We lay in my bed, and he told me that he couldn’t just get rid of someone so quickly, not when they’ve been a huge part of his life. I remembered feeling sad that I would never have that part of Otter’s past, and I remembered feeling slight twinges of jealousy. However, it was nothing compared to what I felt right then. Not even close.

  My teeth ground together as I said, “So you think it’s all Jonah? You think Jonah’s the reason why he’s happy?” IT’S NOT HIM! I wanted to scream. IT WILL NEVER BE HIM AGAIN! I’M THE ONE THAT MAKES OTTER HAPPY! IT’S BECAUSE OF ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH!

  But of course, naturally, predictably, I said nothing.

  Creed shrugged. “Like I said, Bear, I don’t know what else it could be. He only talks to us, the Kid, and Jonah. I know it’s nothing we’ve done. So by process of elimination, who does that leave?”

  Now, I knew he was wrong, or at least that’s what I tried to tell myself. It couldn’t be Jonah, because it was me. I was the reason Otter had changed, the reason he’d been happy over the last two months. Hell, I was the reason he came home in the first place. He came home for me. Jonah was no longer a part of this. Or so I had thought. Why the hell is he talking to Jonah? I thought, my mind racing. Why the hell is he talking to him, and why the hell has he never said anything to me about it? That’s all in the past! That’s all supposed to be in his past! I thought maybe it was because he was unhappy with me for some reason. I thought it was because I wasn’t as good a lay as Jonah. I thought it was because I was effectively keeping Otter in the closet. I thought it was because I made him promise to stay in the closet about this. I thought so many things, each more irrational than the last, but I couldn’t help it. I’ve said it before: I’ve never been the jealous type. With Anna, I knew that any guy who hit on her would be getting nowhere. We’d always make fun of them later. With Anna, that was never an issue. So why is it one with him? it asked. If you love him like you’ve never loved anyone in your life, then why can’t you trust him on this?

  I couldn’t answer.

  “Bear?” Creed said, breaking me from the storm. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I muttered, not okay at all.

  “I thought I lost you there for a second,” he said, staring at me. “You looked like you were going to throw up.”

  “Creed, there’s something I need to tell you.” The words were out before I could stop them.

  “What, Bear?” Creed asked.

  This was it. This was going to be the moment. This was going to be the time that I told him. I was going to tell him something I should have told him a long time ago. He deserved as much. He was my brother. He’d seen me at my worst and at my best. He held me as I cried when my mother left. If he could do that, then fuck him if he couldn’t accept this. My mind was wild, and it burned, but oh my God, I had to do this.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t say—” I started but was interrupted as the patio door behind me opened and Otter came out.

  “Hey, what’s up?” He grinned at me, that lopsided, beautiful grin. “I didn’t hear you get here.”

  “That’s because you were being all lovey-dovey on the phone,” Creed snorted. “Jesus Christ, Otter, I don’t know why you don’t just tell us about Jonah. I know you were talking to him on the phone. Even Bear agrees with me. Right, Bear?” Creed looked over at me and dropped a wink, and I wanted to punch him in the throat.

  “Right, Creed,” I said hollowly, the water up to my chest.

  “See?” Creed said, laughing. “Now just fucking give it up and tell us! When are we going to meet the future Mrs. Otter Thompson? You might as well bring him here. Can you imagine Mom and Dad? That’s going to be fucking hilarious!” Creed broke off into another gale of laughter, unaware that he was the only one that found something funny. I could feel Otter’s eyes on me, and as much I as I didn’t want to, I turned to him. His gaze was surprised and sad and wary all at the same time. He recoiled slightly when he saw what was in mine, and I did nothing to stop it. So close, I thought bitterly. So close to finally being honest.

  What’s stopping you? the voice asked. You can still set this right. Tell Creed to shut the hell up for one goddamn second and tell him. Make him understand that no one, not him, certainly not Jonah, can make Otter happy like you do. It’s not too late to tell the truth. It’s never too late to tell the truth.

  But I didn’t, and at first I couldn’t understand why. I stared at Otter, and he stared back at me, and Creed laughed and laughed, and then it hit me: the
reason I didn’t say anything was because Otter had done nothing to deny what Creed had said. He sat there, gawking at me, and he did nothing to refute, nothing to take it away. I grit my teeth together, relishing the pressure it put on my jaw. I had lightning in my ears and seawater in my nose. I felt like I was drowning.

  “Well, I can see you’re going to be as forthright as always,” Creed said, looking down at his watch. “I’ve got to get out of here to go… do that thing I said I had to do.” I took note on how his voice had hesitated, but it was washed away, trapped in the tide. Creed stood and patted me on the back, telling me he would see me later. He chuckled as he playfully punched Otter on the shoulder and walked past him. The patio door shut behind him. I heard his keys jingle through the glass, and then the front door opened and closed. I heard the car door open and shut. I heard the car start. I heard the car drive away. I heard all this above the storm raging in my head and heart.

  Otter sighed and walked up to me and hunkered down before me. When he normally did this, I’d always found it slightly endearing. This time, though, I just glared at him.

  “Bear,” he said, reaching up to grab my hand.

  “Don’t,” I growled at him, pulling my hand away like he was going to scald me.

  I stood up and pushed past him, about to walk back into the house (to go inside? to walk away?) but before I could make it to the door, Otter grabbed my arm. I struggled in vain to break free. His massive paw gripped me tightly, and finally I turned to glare at him.

  “Where are you going?” he asked me, an edge in his voice. “Were you just going to leave and not even talk about this?”

  “I would think,” I scowled at him, “that if you wanted to talk about this, you would have told me about it already. Tell me, Otter: just how many times have you talked to Jonah?”

  He maintained his grip on my arm. His eyes were hard. “Bear, it’s not what you think,” he told me, his voice flat. “Whatever it is that’s running through your head right now, you need to stop.”

  “Why can’t you answer the question?” I suddenly shouted at him. I saw him recoil, but he didn’t let go of my arm. “How many times! Why the hell are you talking to him?”

  “I talk to him every now and then,” Otter said, and I could tell he was trying to keep his voice level. “It’s never about anything important, Bear. I told you before. I can’t just knock someone out of my life like that. It’s not who I am.”

  I continued to glare at him, and then there were two Otters and then four Otters, and I felt the bitter sting of angry tears as they welled in my eyes. He saw them, too, and his face softened, and his grip relaxed on my arm. “Did you tell him about me?” I asked, willing the water in my eyes to go away. It didn’t. “Did you tell him about us?”

  Of all the questions I could have asked, I knew this one pained him the most. Before he spoke I knew the answer and shook my arm loose from his hand. I turned away from him and put my forehead up against the glass of the patio door, and it was cool and hard. One of the angry tears defied me and slipped from my eye and landed on my cheek and tracked its way down.

  “What do you talk to him about?” I asked. “What’s so goddamn important that you need to talk to him?”

  I heard Otter exhale noisily behind me, but it came from where he stood before. It meant that he was not trying to come over to me. Good.

  “I told you, Bear, I can’t just cut—”

  “That’s not what I asked! What do you talk about?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Bear,” he said dully. “Apparently you wouldn’t believe me regardless, seeing as how you’ve already made up your mind. Since when did you stop trusting me?”

  I whirled on him. “Since when did you decide to not tell me about secret phone calls with your ex-boyfriend?” I snapped at him.

  “I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me.”

  “Until now,” I spat at him. “You lied to me.” Somewhere inside of me, the voice was screaming to just hear him out, to calm down and let him say what he needed to. I shoved it away.

  Otter looked at me then, and I knew I had wounded him. “Bear,” he said quietly, “what do you think could possibly be going on? He’s in California. I’m here. With you. That’s not going to change.”

  “Then why do you need to talk to him in the first place?” I raged at him. “What does he give you that I can’t?”

  And there we have it, boys and girls, the big question, the thought that was playing in the back of my head. I figured the only reason Otter would be talking to stupid fucking Jonah (what kind of a name is that, anyway?) was because he was getting something from him that he couldn’t get from me. What, you ask, could that possibly be? I had no fucking clue, but it was what I latched onto, it was the fear that I was afraid of the most.

  Otter shook his head. “I can’t believe that you would think… Bear, I love you. Do you really believe I would say that and do something to jeopardize it?”

  “You’re not… answering… the question,” I hissed at him.

  His eyes went hard again, and I saw a tic along his jaw line. “Fine!” he shouted at me, his anger boiling over. “You want to know what we talk about? You want to know so bad, Bear? You want to know what I’ve been doing for him?”

  Suddenly, I didn’t want to know. Not because of what he said, but because I’d never seen Otter like that before. But it was too late.

  “Every time he calls me, every goddamn time, I answer the phone. I know what I’m walking into when I do it, but I fucking pick it up anyways. And you know what he says, Bear? Every time he calls me, it’s to berate me, it’s to wound me, it’s to cut me down. I get on the phone, and he yells at me and screams at me and hates me, and I let him. You want to know why? I do it because I think it’s the only way he’ll get over it. I think if I let him slice me with his words, he’ll finally give up one day. I do it because regardless of what we had, regardless what I have now, he’s still my friend. And friends don’t just fucking quit on each other, just because things get hard. So yes, I talk to him, and yes, it hurts every time I do, but not because I’m in love with him, or because I’m harboring some secret desire to get back together with him. It hurts because I made him like that. I made him an angry person, and so I think the only thing I can do is let him take out his goddamn anger on me. I deserve it, don’t I? Don’t I? I know it sounds ridiculous. Believe me, I know that every time my phone rings, and I see that it’s him. I don’t want to answer it, but I have to because it’s my fault he is the way he is.”

  I tried to interrupt, to stop this thing that I’d started, but he glared at me as I opened my mouth, and it shut on its own.

  “So I let him say whatever the hell he wants until he feels better, and then he goes away. I could’ve stopped this a long time ago, Bear, I know it. But you want to know what he told me? What he said to make me do this every time he calls? He said that he wanted to come here. That he wanted to come to Seafare so we could talk face to face. Yes, I want him to be happy. I want to try and be his friend, but I do it because I don’t want him to come here. If he comes here, he’ll see you, and I don’t want that to happen. But not in the way you’re thinking.” He took in a ragged breath, and I wanted him to stop. I wanted him to stop so bad. I couldn’t deal with his anger anymore, that acidic feeling it caused in my heart and stomach. But he wasn’t finished.

  “I don’t want him to come here and see you because I’m afraid that he’ll scare you away from me. I would do everything in my power to make sure that never happened, but I am scared, Bear. I’m scared that you would take one look at him and that this would happen, what’s happening right now. The look on your face, the way you’re standing, ready to swing at me. I should have known that he wouldn’t even need to be here to drive you away. And for that, I’m sorry. I love you too goddamn much to show you my past, because I don’t want to remember a time without you in it. Those three years I spent away, with him, were nothing compared to what I have now. But I nee
d you to trust me, Bear. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I’m sorry if it feels that way.” He went quiet then, tears in his eyes, his gaze directed at the ground. He then moved toward the doorway and was opening the patio door when I grabbed his arm.

  “Where are you going?” I whispered hoarsely, flinging his words back at him. “Were you just going to leave?”

  “Bear,” he said, his voice strained in warning.

  “No, Otter,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s my turn to talk. Look at me. Look at me!” He did. “I don’t care what you think or why you do it, but I don’t want you talking to him again.” He started to interrupt, but I cut him off. “Not because I’m jealous or because I’m worried that he’ll take you away from me, but because of you. Because of what he’s doing to you. No one should ever have to deal with that. I don’t care if you think you made him like that or if you think that he needs this to get over you. You need to stop thinking you make people into anything they don’t want to be. He’s angry, Otter. He’s pissed the hell off, and if you keep talking to him, it’s only going to continue like that forever. I won’t allow that.” My voice dropped down into a growl. “No one will ever talk to you like that, not while I’m around.” His eyes flashed at this, and I saw a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re mine, you hear me? Mine. I swear to Christ if he as much as thinks about coming here, or calling to mess with you again, then he will have to answer to me. Do you understand? Do you understand me, Otter? I fucking love you, and no one will ever do that to you again.”

  I felt hot and sweaty, and his eyes flashed again, and the grin was there, angry and proud, and it was mine. It was for me. He jumped at me, and I caught him in my arms and crushed him into me, and he cried. He cried into me like I had done into him time and time again, and I rocked him, I swayed him, I whispered to him, “Mine, you’re mine,” and he let it all out.

  By the time he was done, we were both trembling, we were both quaking. My gorge tossed and turned, and I pulled him tighter into me. When finally his sobs subsided, he pulled back and kissed me. I felt his swollen face press against mine, and the ferocity of his kiss made me start to shake again as he pressed me up against the glass, and suddenly we both had too much clothing on, and then it was gone, and we rocked together, and he bit my shoulder as I sucked on his neck, and as I threw my head back and arched into him, I heard him groaning, “Mine, mine, mine,” and I picked it up, and it became a chant until we were both growling and spitting and our cocks were in his hand, and we came at the same time, and I swear to God, the concrete shook and rolled and finally cracked beneath us.