by T. J. Klune
“Yeah, something like that,” I say, my voice hardening as David rocks his head back, laughing way too loudly at something Otter has said. Otter’s not that funny. I should know. I fucking live with him, I see him every day, and I’m about to stand and rush over to David and ask him what part of Otter’s introduction to Isaiah did he not understand and did he really think that just because Isaiah had kissed me briefly once that Otter would really just fall right back into his stupidly muscled arms like nothing else mattered?
“Now, there’s the claws I wondered about,” Isaiah says, laughing as he pulls me back down before I can rip David’s pretty little face off. “Walrus isn’t stupid, so there’s no need for you to be. Besides,” he says, leaning in, his lips near my ear. “I’ve got a better idea. Walrus already doesn’t like me, so may as well use that instead of you making a scene.”
“I’m not going to fuck you,” I tell him.
His eyes go comically wide. “Not what I had in mind, but I like the way you think. You sure about that?”
I think for a moment, but only a moment. “I’m sure,” I say.
Isaiah watches me knowingly. “Well, why don’t we just leave it at that, then? You know how to dance?”
“Uh… not really. I’m more of the… not-dancing type, if you know what I mean.”
“Well, you’re in luck, because I make anyone who dances with me look good, so get ready for the ride of your life, baby. Walrus won’t know what hit him, and trust me, he’ll never even remember the name David. You ready?”
“I don’t know….”
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey, yourself,” I say back, unable to stop myself.
“You trust me?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“I’ll take it,” he says with a grin as he grabs my arm and pulls me to the dance floor.
I bump into a few other guys and apologize profusely but am promptly ignored in favor of the deep bass that thrums from the speakers overhead, causing my teeth to vibrate in their sockets. The lights are bright and shoot across my vision, and I’m blinded, if only for a moment. It’s in this blindness that Isaiah presses up against my back, his body liquid smooth as his hips begin to move against mine. I don’t know what I’m doing, and it shows. I’m stiff against him, my body unable to move with the fluid grace that he seems to have. “Just relax,” he shouts in my ear. “Let me lead.”
What have I got to lose?
So I let go, as much as I can. Isaiah puts his hands on my hips and pushes one way and then the other, causing me to rock with him and against him. It’s dirty, this grinding, and I know I look ridiculous, but then Isaiah whispers in my ear to look, to look over at Otter, and I do, and I find his heated gaze on me, David left forgotten at the bar with a surprised look on his face as Otter prowls the edge of the dance floor, the gold-green almost gone to black, popping his knuckles as his lips twist in a sneer. Isaiah does this neat little roll with his body and slides up and down my back and breathes against the back of my head. “You so owe me after this,” he says, and I can finally feel his dick against my ass. “But you’re lucky I don’t want my favor right now.” He lets me go and walks toward Otter, who looks like he’d have no problem murdering Isaiah in front of everyone. Isaiah stops in front of him and says something, causing Otter to snarl in his face. Isaiah looks back at me and winks before walking off to the bar.
Otter’s in front of me before I even see him move. “What the fuck was that all about?” he snaps at me, pressing up against me.
“Have a nice conversation with David?” I growl right back. “Don’t allow me to interrupt. He sure had a good hold on you. Rumor is that he’s not completely over you. But I think you know that.”
“Don’t be a dick, Bear. It’s not a good look for you.”
“Don’t be an asshole, Otter. Same thing applies.”
We stare at each other for a moment before I see the corner of his mouth start to move, and I try to stay mad at him for something, anything, but I can’t. It’s Otter. He still breaks first and laughs loudly and cups my face and kisses me. I breathe him in as I kiss him back, and his tongue finds mine, and there’s something oh so weird and oh so hot about making out in front of all these people, even though no one cares and I doubt anyone is watching. That thought is immediately put to rest when I hear catcalls coming from our table, and Beer Me shouts something indecipherable that causes them to laugh. Otter smiles against my lips, and I allow myself to think that maybe, just maybe, this will be for the rest of my life, that I’ll have this man with me for the rest of my life, that nothing, not Jonah, not my mother, not fucking David or Isaiah could take us apart. The gold-green is back as he watches me, and it’s like I’m all he sees. It’s like I’m all there is to him.
“What’d Isaiah say to you?” I ask.
Otter snorts. “He said I better treat you good because if there’s ever a moment you’re single, he’s snatching you up and not letting you go.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you know that’s not happening, right?”
He arches an eyebrow. “Oh I know. But now Isaiah does too.”
“What about—” I’m interrupted when my phone vibrates from my pocket. The screen is lit and showing I have a new picture message. I open it up and see Mrs. Paquinn has taken a picture of Ty, curled up in the bathtub in his PJs, looking like he’s sound asleep, his face lined with worry. Just thought you should know, the message reads. I can handle until tomorrow.
Crap. I show it to Otter, who immediately grabs me by the hand and pulls me back to the table. “Sorry, guys,” he says as he grabs our coats. “We’ve got to cut this short. Emergency back home.” The tone in his voice lets them know he’s serious. The guys immediately jump up and hug the both of us, asking us to let them know if there’s anything they can do. I scowl at David as he hugs Otter longer than he should until Otter pulls away and takes my hand again. Isaiah asks me to text him later and tells me he’ll see me next week. We’re out the front of the club before I can even think.
“Are you sure you’re okay with us leaving?” I ask him in a small voice. “I know you haven’t seen your friends in a while. I feel bad making us leave early.”
Otter puts his arms around my shoulders and pulls me close, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “You’re kidding, right? Bear, we have to go take care of Ty. There’s no place else I’d rather be. Don’t feel bad. I don’t. We gotta stop by the hotel and grab our shit and check out. Text Mrs. Paquinn and let her know we’ll be home in less than two hours.”
Then something else hits me as we reach the car, and he unlocks and opens my door for me. “Otter?”
“Yeah, honey?” That word again. Fuck.
“You were saying something… in the bar. Before Jordan grabbed you.” Shut up, shut up! “What… what were you going to ask me?”
He watches me for a moment as he waits for me to get in the car. He closes the door behind me and walks slowly around the front of the car, his brow furrowed. I’m terrified at what he’ll say when he opens the door, and it’s the longest five seconds of my life. I lean over and unlock the driver’s door of his Jeep, and then his hand is on the handle and it pulls up and the door opens, the cold pouring in, and he sits down and closes the door behind him. He puts his hands on the steering wheel and exhales and opens his mouth and says, “Let’s just focus on Ty for now, okay? Let’s go home and take care of the Kid. It’s not important.”
But it is important, I know it is. But do I say anything? Do I insist? Of course not. I just nod. And look away.
Eventually, though, somewhere outside of Portland, as we drive in silence through the dark, he reaches over and grabs my hand and doesn’t let go.
“I DIDN’T mean to cut your trip short,” Mrs. Paquinn says as she opens the door at one in the morning. “I’m sorry if you thought I did.”
“It’s fine,” Otter says in reassurance. “We were ready to come home.”
She smiles. “Did you have a nice time? I’m told at those bars they have men who dance around in cages with dollar bills around their privates and not much else. Sounds like my version of heaven.”
“We had fun,” I tell her, itching to go down to the bathroom and wake up the Kid. “A little loud, but it was fun.”
“We’re homebodies,” Otter says, raising my hand to kiss the knuckles. “Especially when the Kid needs us.”
“He’s just worried, I think,” Mrs. Paquinn says quietly, no recrimination in her eyes and voice. “Not that it’s founded in anything, but… I think he’s just in a fragile place right now. Probably overwhelmed with all the change that’s occurred in his life.” I try to protest halfheartedly, but Mrs. Paquinn silences me with a gnarled raised hand. “It’s not a bad thing, Bear McKenna; how can it be? All that you two have received in these last months is a blessing, and you’ll never hear me say otherwise. Tyson is an old soul: he might portray strength, but he’s still made of glass and must be handled as such. But he could not be in better hands.” She raises her hand, and it shakes as it touches my cheek gently, and all I can think of is—
bear-rick
—getting down the hallway as fast as I can, to scoop him up and let him know that I will never let the earthquakes get too strong. “Now,” Mrs. Paquinn says, “I will leave you to it and will see myself out.” She starts to protest as Otter hands her a wad of bills for her services, but he ignores her and opens her purse and puts it in her pocketbook for her. She kisses us both on the cheek and steps out into the night. I watch until she’s safely in her car and on her way before shutting the door behind us.
“You want me there with you?” Otter asks me.
I don’t even have to think about it. “Yeah. He needs to see us both, right? It’s not just him and me anymore. Or even you and me. It’s the three of us, and he needs to understand that. Let’s just get him out of the bathtub, and we can talk tomorrow.”
And that’s what we do. Otter follows me into the bathroom, and I have to stop my heart from tearing in two as I see the Kid curled up at the bottom of the bathtub, his hair falling over his face, his pajamas riding up one leg to reveal white skin. He shudders once, and I realize he must be cold. I can’t leave him in there anymore. I bend down and put my right arm under his legs and my left arm under his head and lift him up into me. God, he’s so little. So light. How could something that weighs so little mean so much? I don’t have an answer to that question, even though it seems like it’s all I can think about. I watch him as I walk down the hallway of the Green Monstrosity, and I think he might wake, but he just mutters to himself and rolls his head over and buries it against my chest. There’s a huff, then, and a sigh, and he relaxes. I pass his room with a look, and Otter doesn’t say anything. I know he’s fine with this. I put the Kid in our bed and pull the covers up and over his shoulders to keep him warm. Otter hands me my pajama shorts and we change in the dark, not speaking, but somehow knowing what each other would say if we did.
I crawl in beside the Kid and Otter follows me in, and we pull the covers up and over our heads for the Cave of Bear and Otter, but now made for Bear, Otter, and the Kid. He spoons up behind me as I reach over to brush a fallen lock of hair off the Kid’s forehead. The last thing I remember is the way the moonlight falls across my little brother’s face, allowing me to see him clearly one last time before I fall asleep. It’s enough, for now.
I’M AWAKENED to sounds of the bedroom TV quietly playing CNN in the background and Otter snoring loudly in my ear, his arm laying heavy on my side. I crack open an eye and find the Kid watching me.
“You came home,” he says finally, his voice betraying nothing. “I thought you’d be back this afternoon.”
“We decided we’d rather be here.” I yawned, stretching to allow my back to pop. Getting old sucks.
“Mrs. Paquinn didn’t call you or anything?”
“About what, Kid?”
He shrugs. “Kinda had a bad night.”
I pat the pillow next to my head, and he sighs as he lays back down, his little hands tucked under his cheek as he faces me, his nose inches from mine. “Why was it a bad night?” I ask him.
He reaches out and touches my cheek, my forehead, my hair. “Just got scared, I guess. I don’t know. It was stupid.”
“Earthquakes?” I ask him lightly.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I didn’t feel good, and I didn’t know what else to do.”
“I know you didn’t, Kid,” I say as his hand comes down to play with my fingers, an action so like him that it causes the breath to be knocked from my chest. “Why’re you scared?” I manage to get out.
He rolls his eyes but can’t seem to look at me. “It’s dumb,” he mutters. “I’m a smart person. I know things a lot of other people don’t. I could do everything they throw at me at school with my eyes closed and still do better than everyone else. So I don’t know why I get like this, that I think these dumb things. But I can’t get them out of my head, and it hurts.”
I grow concerned. “Like, you have headaches?”
He shakes his head as he picks at my fingernail. “No it’s… hard to explain, Papa Bear. It’s like… you know how you get sometimes, when a thought gets in your head and you can’t get it out, and Otter and me make fun of you for it because you never end up making sense when you speak?”
“I’m aware of this, yes,” I say dryly, only to see a sliver of a smile ghost its way across his lips before it disappears.
“It’s kind of like that. I know you won’t leave me. I know Otter won’t leave us. I’m smart. I’m rational. But… it just gets in there, and sometimes I don’t know what’s real or not. It’s like I can’t breathe, and I get scared because I don’t know what I’d do without you, Bear. I think I’d just lie down and die.”
Ah, fuck me.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him roughly, grabbing his hand between my own. “I don’t know what it’ll take to make you believe me, but I’ll do it. I don’t care what it takes, Tyson. You tell me what I need to do and nothing will stop me from doing it.”
He sighs as he watches me. “I know, Bear. Don’t you think I know that? I do, I promise I do. I’m just broken, I guess.”
I kiss the back of his hand. “You’re not broken, Kid. You’re just a little guy. You’re just a little guy, and I’ve probably pushed us too fast. Moving and school. That whole thing with Anna. Mom. Otter. I’ll be honest, I don’t know how you’ve done as well as you have. It seems like everything is going so well that sometimes I forget you’re not used to things like this, that you had things the way you like them, and I had to go and change everything.”
He looks slightly panicked. “We don’t have to move again, do we? I like it here, Bear! I don’t want to go back to that stupid apartment. I like my room! I like Otter being here every day and Dominic being right down the road. I promise I won’t get upset again, Bear! I don’t want to move.” By the end, his breath was catching in his chest, his face red, eyes wide. I drop his hands and cup his face, holding him still so he won’t try and squirm away.
“Now, you listen here, Tyson,” I say, doing my best to sound like Otter. “We’re not going anywhere, okay? I like our house too, and I like my room and Dominic and I happen to love the guy that sounds like he’s growling behind me. We can’t leave. There’s other people that depend on us now, other people that need us. What do you think would happen if we just left? Dominic would be pissed off because he needs you, because you’re his best friend. Otter needs us because we’re his family now. Did I tell you he said that? He told me he’s proud that he has his very own family now, one that he doesn’t have to share with anyone else.
“There’s always been you and me, Kid, and I’ve always done my best to make sure you’re okay, and you’ve always done the same for me. And I think we did fine, the way we were. But that wasn’t living, Tyson. That was getting by. And you don’t d
eserve that kind of life. And I’m starting to think I don’t, either. We’ve got people now, people that will be sad if we’re gone, people who want us around. I don’t think I understood what that meant. Not… before she left. Certainly not after. But that doesn’t matter anymore.
“And there’s one thing I want you to remember, one thing I want you to know for the rest of your life, no matter what else happens in the future, no matter where we end up. I need you to remember one thing for me. Can you do that, Kid?”
He nods as his breath trembles from his body.
“You remember that I’ve got you. Okay? Whenever things look rough, whenever you don’t think you can take another step and those fucking earthquakes seem to be able to tear you apart, you have to know that I’ve got you. I promised you that a long time ago, and I think I’ve been pretty good at keeping my word to you. I may have messed up a bunch of other times and probably will again, but I will never let you down. You hear me? I’ve got you, and that will never change.”
And that’s all he can take, and it’s all I can take, and suddenly he’s in my arms, the weight of him the greatest thing I’ve ever known, and he cries into my neck. I thank God, that malevolent bastard, who’s done his best to knock us down, who’s seemed to have a personal vendetta against the Kid and me. I thank God because the only way that I have the Kid as I do is because of some miraculous occurrence, some unbelievable twist of fate. Throughout the shitstorm that’s been our lives, through everything we’ve had to endure, something somewhere thought I’d do okay by him. That I’d give him what he needed, and that in turn, he’d give me everything.
It’s moments later, and the Kid’s breathing has calmed, my neck wet and snotty and wonderful. Otter’s arm is still draped over my waist, but his snoring has stopped, and I know he’s awake, but I don’t know for how long or how much he’s heard. That’s okay, though. I hope he’s heard enough to know the Kid is good. Not all the way, but getting there. Just like Otter and me.
