by Aiden Bates
At first he looked torn, but eventually his expression smoothed, and then he nodded sharply, once. Always the soldier.
“Sounds good. Just shoot me a text when you’re on your way. And, Charlie?”
“Yeah?” I asked, fully bracing myself for another round of well-meaning condolences.
“Thanks. I can’t tell you how much this means for me.”
I smiled. “Of course.”
And as I walked away I couldn’t help but feel that it was really Pedro who had no idea how much this meant for me.
4
Pedro
“Woah. Woah, woah, woah… Fucking what?” Marcos held a hand out and kept pushing it at me like he was really trying to make a horse stop with all of his whoa-ing.
My brother was holding, or was trying to hold, baby Juan in his lap. Juan was having none of it, though. He kept squirming and fussing and throwing his arms out to Oliver then to Mitch, and then back to Marcos only to start the cycle again. This was a habit of Juan’s, and it had gotten all three of his parents used to playing “Pass The Baby” without even having to look down at him. They just instinctively passed him around like a noisy football.
Since Marcos was distracted by what I was saying, Juan was ready to make his next stop, so he demanded Oliver, and Marcos easily passed him over, still locking eyes with me.
“You’re trying to do what now?” Marcos asked, demanding an answer from me. I had zoned out watching Juan, but I shook my head and forced myself to concentrate on Marcos’s question. I shrugged and cleared my throat.
“Move out,” I said simply, like it was no big deal. It was very obviously a very, very big deal.
“Bro, that’s the dumbest—”
Mitch shot Marcos a look, and Marcos sighed. I knew he’d been gearing up for the kind of bickering we used to do when we were kids, but Mitch seemed to realize that would only make me more determined, so Marcos regrouped and tried again.
“Pedro, you can’t live by yourself. You’re not recovered all the way yet. How are you going to take care of yourself? How are you going to move food from the microwave to the table, for example?”
“Well,” I said, sarcastically pretending to actually consider his question. “I figure I’ll open the microwave when it’s done, put my hands around my plate, close the microwave and then put one foot in front of the other, making sure I don’t fall over until I reach—”
Oliver snorted as he offered Juan a set of big plastic keys to play with.
“Ha ha ha. That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Marcos said, rolling his eyes at me. “All that only works if you’re actually able to do it, which sometimes, you’re not.”
“I won’t be by myself,” I said, casually ignoring Marcos as he pointed out how I was sometimes limited. Despite how hard I was trying to not play along, it felt like I was asking Marcos and Company for permission to move out, same as it had when I’d brought it up to Mami. I wasn’t asking for permission. I was a grown man who could live on my own just fine. This wasn’t about permission. I was just informing them I was going to be living by myself and that was that.
Sort of by myself, that was. Living apart from family, anyway.
“I can do those things if I don’t have someone constantly breathing down my neck telling me I can’t, or I shouldn’t. But if it makes you feel better, which it probably won’t because I don’t think anything will make you feel better, I’m not living by myself. I’m moving in with Charlie.”
Oliver and Mitch traded glances behind Marcos, but Marcos looked like he hadn’t understood.
“Charlie Zimmerman,” I said to clarify things, in case they needed clarifying.
Marcos looked like there was a lot he wanted to say. He looked like he was getting ready to start in on an epic lecture, but I crossed my arms and dared him to say anything else. I needed this new start, and I did not want it to include any lectures from my brother. Marcos took the hint, but he looked first at Mitch, and then at Oliver like he was trying to see if anyone would back him up. Neither of the omegas said anything, and Marcos sighed heavily.
“Look, I know you don’t want to hear what anyone has to say,” Marcos said at last. “But, think of it this way; Charlie’s been through a lot these past few years. He’s never found anyone after Jason. You gotta be careful with what you’re about to put on him.”
“Well,” Mitch said, accepting the baby from Oliver. “I don’t know about that.”
Marcos looked behind him like he couldn’t believe the betrayal that was taking place in his own house on his own couch and from his own husband.
Drama queen.
“What? Y’all don’t know Charlie like we do. He’s come a long way. He’s not as…fragile as he used to be. This might be good for him. And…” Mitch looked at Marcos meaningfully. “It might be good for Pedro, too.”
“Si, Mitch, that might be, but the thing is that Charlie probably doesn’t know all the complications that Pedro might have,” Marcos said, saying it in a weird combination of his best “yes-dear” tone and the kind of tone people had when they tried to talk through gritted teeth.
“Maybe Pedro would appreciate you not referring to his symptoms as ‘complications,’” Oliver said. “Especially when they’re relatively mild symptoms given the fact he spent nearly four years in a coma and might have had much more profound losses of function. We can all agree that Pedro has certainly come a long way in terms of physical therapy and maybe, now he’s awake, we could adopt a more, shall we say, hands-off approach? Marcos?”
I had to laugh. These two had my brother wrapped around their pinkies. Well, maybe it was better to say that Mitch had both Oliver and Marcos wrapped around his pinky, and sometimes, every so often, Oliver got a pinky in on Marcos. Regardless, my brother’s family was as happy a family as you could ask for, and it was in no small part because he was whipped with a capital “W.”
“Okay, okay,” Marcos said, calming down a little bit as he realized he was under judgement of both of his partners. Juan fussed some more and got passed back to Oliver behind Marcos’s back again. “Okay, let’s call them ‘symptoms.’ Does Charlie know about the stuff we’re still dealing with?”
“The stuff Pedro is still dealing with,” Mitch said, correcting Marcos’s statement.
I mouthed a silent thank you to him.
“The stuff Pedro is still dealing with,” Marcos said in exasperation. “Does Charlie know?”
“Well…” I said, sort of shrugging, hoping this didn’t turn the “Council of Omegas’” attention on me instead of Marcos. It was only funny when Marcos was under their microscope. It was actually hilarious then. Not so much when it was turned on anyone else. Then it was something to be truly feared, and when Mami joined the duo… It was terrifying.
Oliver arched a questioning eyebrow at me, and I could see Mitch’s head tilt a little in a different expression of the same question Oliver apparently had.
“He definitely knows I tire out easily, that I don’t walk the way I used to,” I said, hoping that would be enough to turn the attention of “The Council” away from me. Mitch and Oliver crossed glances behind Marcos again, , he kept his eyes wide and on me, waiting for me to finish the rest of my statement.
But that was it. There wasn’t any more to say. That was my answer and that was what Charlie knew about the possible realities of living with me.
“And?” Marcos asked, prompting me.
“And what?” I replied, sharply. “My legs are jelly. What else is there?”
“I don’t know… Maybe you should let him know you could have a random seizure every so often? Like, that terrifying one you had in Mami’s kitchen? Charlie’s not big enough to catch you or drag you anywhere, and he sure as fuck won’t know he’s supposed to do that if you don’t tell him it’s a possibility! Can you imagine how terrifying it’ll be if you’re sitting on the couch one second and the next you’re keeled all the way over, jerking and threatening to choke on your own—”
“Holy shit!” I said, holding my hands up to show that was probably enough crazy, overblown detail as far as I was concerned. “Jesus, I get it. Chill.”
“No, nobody’s going to be able to chill if you do that at your apartment and Charlie doesn’t even know it’s a possibility. Mami about died when you fell down, and like I said, Charlie’s been through a lot. He lost someone really important to him. I know it’s not the same thing, but he probably doesn’t want to deal with a roommate who can just—”
“Die? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“Well,” Oliver said smoothly and carefully, glancing at Marcos and then at me as my brother and I just panted angrily at each other across the living room coffee table. “Maybe we shouldn’t presume what Charlie is or isn’t ready to handle. Maybe—”
“Fine!” Marcos said as if Oliver hadn’t said anything. “Say you don’t seize ever again. Pretend that part’s over. What if you forget something? You know you’ve been losing track of stuff here lately. What if you just walk off and forget where you’re going, and Charlie doesn’t know to call anyone because he just figures you’re out for a long-ass walk? What if—”
“Yes, oh my god. What if? What if? What if?” I said, throwing my hands up in frustration and clicking my tongue like Mami did when she’d had enough. “What if all of those things happen. Or what if none of those things happen?”
Marcos didn’t have anything to say in response, so I took the opportunity his pause gave me.
“Look, you’re concerned. I get it. Those things were scary for you guys, but believe me, they were definitely scarier for me. The plus side is that I haven’t had a seizure or a weird memory lapse in like…three weeks. I’m good, dude. Ultimately, I get what you’re saying, but they’re my symptoms, and the family and my doctors all know about them and know how to manage them. I know how to manage them, too. I’m not an invalid. I can manage taking my own pills. Hell, I can manage taking medicine better than you. Don’t you remember when we all got sick a little bit ago and you—”
“A little bit ago?” Marcos asked a little more calmly now. “That wasn’t a little bit ago, Pedro. That was in Malmur, dude. It was…”
Marcos realized what he was about to say, and I realized my mistake. For me, the last time we’d both been sick was maybe less than a year ago. From his perspective, it has been a hell of a lot longer.
“Well, you’re not his dad, Marcos,” Mitch said, breaking the tension softly. “Pedro should do what he thinks is best. None of us want to see you or Charlie overwhelmed because we care about both of you, so, you know, take it easy, okay, Pedro?”
Marcos nodded, giving up and agreeing that Mitch’s point was probably the most reasonable one, and I found myself doing the same.
Yeah, I could take it easy. It was going to work out for both Charlie and me. This was great. It was going to be great.
5
Charlie
The next morning I pulled into the driveway at Pedro’s house armed with a renewed outlook on my mission to move out, and a hot, fresh apology coffee. I felt sort of guilty about my response to Pedro yesterday and I wanted to make up for it. I know we were both hoping for a way forward into the next chapter of both of our lives, and it looked like for that to be possible we were going to need to other one.
I shouldn’t have worried, though. Once I’d texted, Pedro had all but run out of the house and thrown himself into my car.
“Thank god you’re here, man,” Pedro said, accepting the coffee I handed him and taking a grateful sip. He seemed to melt back into the headrest as I pulled back onto the road again.
“What? Why?” I asked, confused.
“Mitch has decided to take up yoga,” Pedro said. He said it like it horrified him.
“Umm…okay. Didn’t think someone who used to be in the Army would have such a problem with physical fitness.”
Pedro shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. Fuck, I don’t really understand it either. So, he’s practicing yoga. That led him to getting yoga pants…”
“Again, not following you.”
“Which means Oliver and Marcos both wake up extra early for no other reason than to see Mitch in the yoga pants, which leads Mitch into doing not nearly enough yoga and way more than acceptable levels of flirting for eight in the morning on a Saturday, and then no yoga at all and way too much fucking moaning.” Pedro said all of this quickly, as if he was about to explode before scrubbing his hand over his face. “Dios mio, if I never hear my brother having sex again, it’ll be too fucking soon.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry, sorry. That sounds awful though.”
“Not as awful as the three of them going at it like horny cats.”
I smirked. “Now, imagine that, but instead of your brother, imagine it’s your two middle-aged dads.”
Pedro groaned in what I assumed was sympathy. “Ugh, not you, too.”
“Afraid so. When I got home last night, they were cooking dinner. You’ve never seen so many lusty stares over chopping vegetables in your whole life. I’ll never look at a carrot the same way again. God, and that’s not even the worst of it.”
“No?” Pedro asked. “That sounds pretty bad.”
“Oh yeah? Well, the worst part is that Dad, apparently, developed a habit of sleeping in the nude after I left for college.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Uh-huh, and sometimes he forgets to put on pants when he wakes up in the middle of the night for a glass of water or a midnight snack.”
“Okay, that’s pretty fucking terrible.”
“Right?” I pulled into the first complex. It was probably out of our price range, but it would give me a better idea of the things we both thought we needed in an apartment. I turned to Pedro. It was the moment of truth.
“Alright, so here we are. You’re sure about this? Still time to back out,” I said, trying to keep the excitement off of my face. I didn’t want Pedro to feel pressured into this, but at the same time I desperately wanted it to work.
“And leave you to a lifetime of erotic vegetable hour? Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you. Now, come on and show me this place.”
As I predicted, the first place was too expensive. The second was too small for Pedro, and the third one had walls like tissue paper. The fourth one I vetoed. One of us would have to take a tiny bedroom, and even though Pedro said he was alright with it, there was no way I was going to set us up with something so unfair. Finally, at the last one, the one I had put off viewing the day before, I was starting to feel desperate.
Pedro opened the door with the key the receptionist had given us downstairs. I crossed my fingers as he crossed the threshold and followed behind and…
It wasn’t bad. In fact, it was pretty nice. Big windows and hardwood floors. The bedrooms were on opposite sides of the apartment. The rooms seemed to be basically the same size, and thought there was only one, the bathroom was pretty decent with a double sink and a full tub.
“I think this could work,” I shouted, my voice echoing off the tile.
“Yeah, I think it could,” Pedro said, his voice getting louder as he came nearer to the bathroom. “One downside is neither of the bedrooms have a lock.”
“What?”
“Yeah, some of these older ones don’t for some reason. If you want, we can keep looking, but to be honest, it’s not a deal breaker. I mean, we know each other. We’re friends, right?”
He was right, of course. It wasn’t a deal breaker. Maybe it should have been. I imagined Papa shaking his head, but still. It was otherwise perfect, and it wasn’t like either of us to just barge into the other one’s space.
“Right. No big deal. Just one of those weird things about apartments, I guess.”
We went back downstairs and returned the key in exchange for an application.
“This sounds like a time to celebrate. Wanna go grab a beer?” Pedro asked.
“Should you be drinking anything?”
Pedro shrugged, and despite myself, I drove us to the nearest bar. We got settled in and I started to fill out the application while Pedro ordered for us.
“It’s going to be so much better now. Well, if you can manage to keep it in your pants. You know, alphas and their sex drives,” I said with a light smile.
“Oh, is that right?” Pedro asked, thanking the bartender for our bottles of beer.
“Mmhmm. Horny all the time? Sounds about right.”
“Oh, that’s not fair. Like you omegas are any better. Just make sure you put a towel down anytime you sit during your heat, so you don’t drip everywhere.”
I laughed. “Okay, first of all, not that it’s remotely any of your business, but I do not drip. Ew. I’m on the pill, and it deals with both my heat, and well, everything else, too. So, you can rest assured I have my heat managed, thank you very much.”
“It’s nice to know you can joke like this. I was starting to wonder.” Pedro wrinkled his nose. “But still, too much information.”
“Excuse me? You were the one who started this. Besides, we’re sharing a shower, so I’d ask that you take care of any shower drain issues we have because of your, well…inability to find an omega who will ‘drip’ all over everything.”
Pedro flushed, but he was still laughing, so I must not have gone too far. “Alright, alright, fair enough,” he said.
I took another drink of my beer before pausing with my pen hanging over the sheet of paper.
“You’re sure about this?” I asked for about the millionth time. I had no idea what was making me so hesitant. I was still actually struggling with everything that had happened and the consequent changes in my life, but so was Pedro. Neither of us were completely whole. Maybe that made me nervous for us both.
“Definitely,” Pedro said confidently. “Well, so long as you go easy on me about life’s little pleasures.”
