Falling Bundle

by Jace, Alex

  While Hanna was dishing up for lunch, cutlery clattering in the kitchen, Josh said, “So Max, what do you do?”

  Max opened his mouth, then hesitated. He was an underpaid minion at a coffee shop. He hated the customers, hated the uniform, hated everything about it. Naturally, Arjen was a lawyer and his parents were both doctors. “Um…”

  Arjen pressed into his side. “Max works in an indie coffee house. It’s really nice. They do book groups and all kinds of things.” He made it sound way more sophisticated than it really was. He was very sweet.

  As they sat down to lunch, with sparkling wine a pale gold in tall flute glasses, Max was hit with the sudden memory of the last meal he’d had with his own family. The day he’d been thrown out of home. The sting of the fresh bruises on his face, the stunned sense that the world had flipped on its axis. The knowledge that from now on he was alone in a harsh world.

  Josh topped him up with wine. “Everything all right, Max?”

  Max should have kept his mouth shut but the truth escaped him in a sudden burst. “My family isn’t like this.”

  Silence. Arjen reached out and covered his hand, a light touch. Max swallowed past the ache in his throat. “It’s—it’s nice here. That’s all.” The warmth, the laughter. He bet they hadn’t hit Arjen even once when Arjen was a kid. “You obviously did a great job with Arjen. I can see why he’s so… so…” Arjen stroked the back of his hand, and Max melted even more. “So nice,” Max said in a whisper.

  The conversation picked up after that, giving Max time to steady himself and stop thinking. Surprisingly, Arjen’s parents seemed to like him. Max joined in with teasing Arjen. “He is such a deep sleeper,” Max said. “It’s ridiculous. The house could burn down and he wouldn’t know.”

  “He could sleep through an air-raid siren,” his father said.

  “I used to have to shake him to get him up in the mornings for school,” his mother chimed in.

  Arjen pretended to scowl. “I hate you all.”

  Max chuckled and ruffled his hair. Maybe Arjen might like to do this Sunday lunch thing again. “How long have you two been married?”

  Josh turned an expectant look on Hanna, who laughed. “Don’t expect me to remember.”

  “Never remembers our anniversary,” Josh said. “I put it on her calendar so she doesn’t forget.”

  “Let me see. Twenty-eight… no, twenty-nine years. Since I first moved here from Leiden.” Hanna still had the echo of her Dutch accent.

  “Thirty.” Josh hid his smile behind his glass.

  “Thirty! Are you sure?”

  “Alas,” Josh said. “Marrying you was a life sentence.”

  “Are you planning to make an honest man out of our son, Max?”

  Hanna said it lightly, like a joke, but Max immediately froze. His hands clenched helplessly at the sides of his plate. He could not think of a single word to explain the impossibility of having something so permanent, so trustworthy, so miraculous in his life.

  The silence stretched out into uncomfortable territory. Then Arjen stepped in to cover for him, trying to smooth over the gap. “We, um, haven’t talked about that. And I don’t want to scare Max away.” He tried to smile, but he kept looking anxiously at Max.

  Max stared down at his plate, the tender lamb no longer melting on his tongue. He had not been expecting that question; he had not realised that they would be thinking it. He did not dare look up. He did not want to see on their faces that he had disappointed them.

  Arjen touched his arm gently, then shifted his chair closer to press his shoulder against his, warm and steady. It occurred to Max to wonder if Arjen would still want to stay with him should Max tell him they would never get married. If Max would have to do this to keep him.

  Max leaned into Arjen without a word.

  That silence lingered on the drive home. Max fixed his eyes on the icy road, grip tight on the wheel. Arjen said nothing beside him. Half a dozen times Max wanted to speak but couldn’t find the right words. The quiet was awful.

  “I’m sorry,” Arjen said as they pulled into their driveway. He unbuckled his seatbelt. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Max stared at the steering wheel, drumming his fingers on it, then got out of the car without a word. The key turned easily in the lock of the front door and Max let himself into the cold house.

  “Please don’t be mad at me.” Arjen’s voice tightened with pain behind him.

  “I’m not mad.” Just terrified.

  “Max…” Arjen sighed. He tugged Max toward the sofa, pushed him down onto it, then tucked himself into Max’s side. Max slipped his arm around him without thinking. “I’m sorry we upset you. I didn’t mean to. I’d never push you into anything you’re not ready for. I just thought maybe… some day…” Arjen bit his lip, and started over. “I know you love me. I know you’ll never leave me. That’s not so different from getting married, is it? I’d just like to know what you’re thinking. Because sometimes you go really quiet and it’s hard to understand what’s going on.” He twined his fingers through Max’s, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on Max’s palm. “Have you ever thought about it? Marrying?”

  Max remembered that candlelit dinner when he’d first moved in, when Arjen had given him his new key in a jewellery box. The fear that it might be a ring. “No. No, I haven’t.” It came out harsh. Max’s jaw tightened as he fought back words. That panic inside pushed him to lash out, drive Arjen away, but he knew he mustn’t: he couldn’t risk something so, so important to him.

  Arjen cupped his face in his hands. “What’s wrong?”

  Max didn’t want to talk about it. All the old fears were flooding back, trying to drown him. He just leaned in and kissed Arjen silent.

  Arjen melted into him, his fingertips light against Max’s face. Arjen murmured as he kissed him, little snatches of “I love you” against his lips. Max tugged on his shirt, and Arjen let himself be pulled, sliding easily into Max’s lap. Max settled him there, cupping his firm ass to hold him hot and tight against Max’s hardness. Arjen felt perfect straddling him, fitting against him as though made for it.

  When Max kissed him again Arjen yielded so easily. He let Max capture his mouth and keep it. Arjen sneaked his hand under Max’s shirt, stroking and exploring Max’s bare chest, his abdomen. Arjen’s fingernails dragged downward and Max’s abs contracted reflexively as a hot shiver shot through him. Arjen made a low rumbly sound of approval and hunger. He really was adorable, squirming in Max’s lap and driving Max crazy.

  “Be still,” Max growled, nipped his bottom lip sharply, then nuzzled along his rough jaw to find that sensitive earlobe with his teeth. Arjen’s head tipped back as Arjen moaned aloud.

  “Talk to me.” Max’s voice dropped, deep and rough. He bit down harder. He often made Arjen talk to him during sex, getting Arjen to promise to always belong to him. He especially liked to hear Arjen’s voice crack as Max pushed inside him, when those whispers would break down into pleading for more.

  But instead of saying I belong to you, Arjen said, “You belong to me.” He pulled back to catch Max’s gaze, his eyes so dark, so serious. “And I’ll keep you. I’ll never let you go.”

  Max paused with his fingers curled around Arjen’s belt buckle, ready to strip him.

  He liked it just as much this way, maybe even better. Because if he belonged to Arjen, Arjen would keep him forever. No matter how much Max panicked over stupid stuff.

  He needed this intensely, the intimacy, the belonging. He wanted to express with each touch, with each kiss, that he loved this man desperately and never wanted to be apart from him. He had never thought of it as making love before, but as he readied Arjen and slid deep inside him with a groan of satisfaction, that term was occurring to him now.

  Christ. Arjen felt fantastic on his cock, clenching around him, burying his face in Max’s shoulder with a moan of surrender. He was so hot, so slippery that Max had to take several deep breaths to avoid coming there and then.
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  Max started rocking into him steadily, watching his flushed face, judging the intensity of his pleasure by the rhythmic flexing and tightening of his grip on Max’s shoulders. Each slow, hot slide in and maddening drag out got Arjen arching and clutching at him. Max wrapped a hand around his cock and started to jerk him off. “Wait,” Max told him. “Until I let you come.”

  Arjen fidgeted under him, biting his lip, his eyes hazy. His fingernails were starting to dig into Max’s broad shoulders. “Max… I…”

  “Wait,” Max said sternly.

  Arjen barely lasted ten seconds. He tipped over the edge, shuddering around him and crying out. Max laughed against his hot throat; he had noticed that nothing got Arjen off faster than telling him to wait. He cupped Arjen’s ass and started to hammer him in earnest, pounding him hard as his own pleasure broke over him in a wave, swift and intense.

  Afterward, as Max kissed his beloved and eased gently out of his body, he realised that tears were stinging his eyes.

  I’ll keep you.

  The next morning Max was startled from his breakfast by the doorbell. He glanced at the antique clock on the kitchen windowsill. Half past seven. Too early for the post. He got up and padded barefoot to the door still eating a spoonful of cereal. He swung the door open to reveal an icy day, crisp with frost, and froze.

  Standing on the doorstep was his brother Tyler.

  They stared at each other. The silence iced over.

  “Max.” His brother smiled, like sliding in the knife. “So this is where you’ve been hiding.”

  Max could only stare. Shocked. Stupid. He’d been half asleep, shirt unbuttoned, dozing over his cereal, totally unprepared. Now he was waking up in record time. Because his brother was an absolute psychopath.

  Tyler. Max had lived in terror of his cruelty all through childhood. Max had feared his brother even more than his father. Now his heart was pounding against his ribs, and the same old panic locked him in place, a child again, waiting to be hit.

  “Nice house,” said Tyler, still with that smile that did not touch his eyes. “Mind if I come in?” He pushed past Max without waiting to be invited.

  Max should have physically barred Tyler’s path. He should have shoved Tyler back. He should have slammed the door in Tyler’s face. But Max couldn’t make himself move. And Tyler passed him without a glance, straight into Max’s nice, warm, welcoming house.

  It struck Max helplessly how similar he and his brother must look these days. They were both powerfully built, with the same short-cut blond hair, the same icy blue eyes. Tyler was bigger than him, of course. Always had been.

  “What do you want?” Max’s voice came out a croak.

  “Maybe,” Tyler said, “I want what you’ve got.” He sauntered into the living room with its glossy flat-screen television and whistled. He ran one finger along the back of the leather recliner. “This is way too nice to be yours. Who are you fucking for this?”

  “That’s none of your business,” Max growled. If his brother even looked at Arjen, much less laid a single finger on him—

  “You’ve been away a long time. And now I see why. Busy earning your keep.”

  Max’s jaw clenched. “What do you want?”

  “Dad’s dead.”

  The impact was like hitting a wall. “He—What?”

  “You heard me.” Tyler said it indifferently.

  Max’s father had been an unmitigated bastard. He’d walked out on Max’s family when Max had been a child, setting up with a new wife, new kids. He’d been drunk more often than sober. And he’d had a few choice words to say on the subject of Max being, in his phrase, a “fucking queer”. And yet somehow his loss still managed to shake Max’s world to its foundations.

  Max couldn’t imagine not dealing with his father’s cold, sneering behaviour any more. Not being needled and undermined. Not knowing that he was a disappointment to his father. The absence of his father would leave him adrift in the world, all his memories coming up out of the water, everything he’d worked so hard to drown.

  He’d never quite had the courage to cut his family off entirely. Then he wouldn’t matter to anybody in the whole world.

  Max suddenly craved Arjen, his anchor in this bleak sea. Max could slip back into their bed and Arjen would snuggle into him all warm and sweet. That would make everything better. “Get out,” Max said, his voice cold.

  “Is that how you treat family?” Tyler breezed into the kitchen and started poking around. Max followed him so he didn’t steal anything. “You’ve got a nice setup here. How do I get a piece of it?”

  “Get. Out.” Max spoke through his teeth, his panic starting to rise. He had to keep all this away from Arjen. He couldn’t let Arjen find out, he especially couldn’t risk Arjen with his brother. He had to get his brother out of here before—

  Footsteps creaked on the stairs.

  No, no, no. Max came around the kitchen table in a hurry, trying to get between the two of them, but his brother was already there with a crocodile grin.

  Arjen walked barefoot into the kitchen and stopped dead. Sleepy, ruffled, half-dressed Arjen, all small and defenceless, still drinking his morning coffee. Now staring at Tyler.

  The sight of him hit Max like a punch, the protectiveness so fierce it drove the breath out of him. Max would kill for him. Genuinely kill. “Don’t you dare touch him,” Max hissed to his brother. “Don’t speak to him. Don’t even look at him.”

  Tyler eyed Arjen up and down in a way that made Max prickle with jealous fury. Tyler had clearly noticed that Arjen was scorchingly handsome, with his dark eyes, his sharp cheekbones. “Well, well. So this is your naughty little secret, Max. This is who you have to fuck to live in a house like this.”

  Arjen put his coffee cup down on the table. His face was closed, expressionless. “Max? Who is this?”

  “My brother.” Max’s voice came out strangled tight.

  “Your brother.” Arjen repeated that with a complete lack of inflection.

  “Hi. I’m Tyler.” Tyler held out his hand.

  Max’s handsome, charming, smiling brother had won over everybody they’d ever met. Arjen looked at him coldly, ignored his hand, and went to move past him to join Max.

  Tyler slapped his hand against the opposite wall, barring Arjen’s way. Tyler loomed over him deliberately. His shadow fell across him.

  Max’s panic cranked up a notch. “If you touch him I’ll—I’ll—” Max’s voice cracked and he stopped, horrified. Because the truth was that he’d probably do what he’d always done when confronted by his brother. Hide.

  “Yes,” Tyler said. “I’m sure you will.” He was still looking Arjen up and down.

  “It’s all right, Max.” Arjen sounded perfectly calm. He hadn’t flinched for a second. “This is just a crude intimidation tactic. If you ignore it long enough it devolves into a childish tantrum.”

  Tyler’s eyes narrowed. He stepped closer still, forcing Arjen to lift his chin to look up at him. “You’re a talker, aren’t you. I can think of better uses for a mouth like that.”

  Arjen’s mouth curled as he looked at him. “Does your brother know anything about me, Max?”

  “No,” Max said, his voice hoarse. “I’d never tell him about you. Never.”

  “I can tell,” said Arjen. “Because he thinks he can get in my face and push me around.” Arjen laughed, as though Tyler wasn’t six inches taller and probably sixty pounds heavier than him. “Here’s what you missed, Tyler. I am a criminal lawyer. Let me repeat that for you so you can get it through your head. A criminal lawyer. What do you have, a few priors for assault? Not even that? And you’re trying to frighten me? Please. I see men like you in jail every day. You think this kind of display impresses me?”

  Tyler’s eyes narrowed even further. His set jaw struck pure fear into Max, who knew exactly how much it hurt when his brother lost his temper. “Max, you need to tell your piece of ass to shut his mouth.”

  “Max quite likes my mouth
,” said Arjen with a particularly dangerous smile. “And he would never tell me to shut up.”

  “He’s fucking you for your money. You know that, don’t you? He doesn’t care about you. He never has.”

  “Alas,” said Arjen. “And there I was hoping he was fucking me for my house.”

  Tyler started to laugh then. “Why don’t you tell him the truth, Max? Tell him why you’re really with him. Because you’ve got nothing and he’s got everything. Because you envy him. Because you hate him. Because fucking him gives you power over him.”

  “I—” Max’s voice cracked and he had to stop. He wanted so badly to tell the truth: I love him so much it scares me. But Tyler had broken every toy Max had ever played with as a child. Tyler had destroyed things just because they belonged to Max. If Max let on for a second that he loved Arjen this much, Tyler would hurt Arjen, maybe even kill him.

  Max had hesitated too long. Tyler’s blue eyes lit with a spark of unholy glee. “Really, Max? That’s adorable. Isn’t that adorable?” He turned to Arjen, who eyed him icily. “I take it back. Max likes you. How cute.”

  “Please don’t hurt him,” Max said helplessly. “Please don’t scare him away.”

  “Max.” Arjen cut across his increasing panic, that steady voice a lifeline. “It’s all right.”

  “Max, you are even more stupid than you look,” Tyler said. “You actually like this kid? Some fancy lawyer type? Look at him. He probably went to private school. I bet his family are loaded and they have some pile out in the country. You’re just his bit of rough. Once the thrill wears off he’ll ditch you and go find another lawyer.”

  It was like a stab. Because it was exactly what Max was most afraid of. That a man like Arjen wouldn’t settle for a man like Max forever. “That’s not true,” Max managed to say. “He loves me, he—”

  “In a few years he’s not even going to remember your name.”

  “That’s enough.”

  Arjen had cut across the silence in a deadly low voice. The effect was freezing. “You’re done, Tyler. Time to leave.”

  “Oh, I am nowhere near done. I still haven’t—”