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A gift for an LJ Friend and fellow slasher, Bellheim. Don't worry, I haven't quit on PGents. In fact, the next chapter is pretty close to done. But presents come first.
This is Slash (Yaoi, BoyxBoy) and Brothercest (incestuous relations between two brothers). If the content offends, I'm begging you, stop reading now.
Max was a crazy dog. He liked to sleep on the window seat and loved tipping over his water dish, just to make mom’s cats scatter. When Lee tried to pet him he would nudge his hand with his nose like it was food. But he loved Kurt with all his doggy heart and followed him everywhere making little noises and waiting for him to talk about his day. He wouldn’t stop whining until Kurt told him everything, and he always knew when Kurt was leaving something out, so soon the long-haired mutt knew more about him than anybody.
Kurt would take him on walks twice a day, and that’s when he would do his talking. Talk about school, the awful teachers he had and how all of his classmates knew him because of Lee. He was never that popular, but Lee was so that was okay. And Bryce would come along sometimes, never once questioning why he spent so much time talking to a dog. Kurt was ten by then, and Lee was twelve. Bryce Sweeney was eleven, born the year in-between and practically a brother thanks to their fathers and their weekly Poker Night.
When Kurt was thirteen, watching his fifteen-year old brother make out with some girl from school and becoming more annoyed with each passing kiss, Max was the one who interrupted. He jumped into Lee’s lap and licked his face, showing him more love than he’d ever shown anyone but Kurt, until his promiscuous older brother finally yelled for him to come out and call him off. Kurt took his sweet time. From that day on he took his girls to his room where they would not be disturbed. Even now Kurt can’t help but jar the door a little sometimes, just to scare the couple apart.
Max knew about Kurt’s first kiss before anybody else; he was there. Kurt was fourteen then, just old enough to not be embarrassed when Jackie O’Neill suddenly appeared in the middle of their walking path, asking if she could join them. He thought it was weird how she played with her ponytail and stared at her feet as she walked but didn’t mention it. When she turned and whispered her ‘I Like You’ in his ear, he jumped about a foot. But then she pressed her lips to his and stepped back blushing and he realized how nervous she must’ve been. He didn’t know how to make her feel better, so he fumbled with his glasses and tried to speak like he was supposed to. When she finally left he felt like a heel, so he looked up her number in the school directory and asked her to a movie.
He was also there for Kurt’s first kiss with Bryce, sitting on the porch step and begging for someone to rub his tummy. Max always loved Bryce. He’d sit at his feet under the dinner table and wait for him to drop scraps. But that night his parents were out of town and they trusted sixteen-year old Kurt and eighteen-year old Lee to take care of themselves, and Lee was out with his buddies and wouldn’t be back until... well, ‘Call me when mom and dad are back’. So they sat on the front porch and talked about things until Bryce whispered his ‘I Like You’ and he jumped about five feet. But when he felt Bryce’s lips he didn’t let him stop, pull away, or blush red and nervous. He pulled Max inside and let Bryce follow him up to his room where he shut the door and didn’t answer the phone when it rang. Lee would come back to find them watching movies in the basement at two in the morning. They had only stopped because Kurt had thought he’d be back at one.
Max knew everything about Kurt and never told a soul. Even Lee, who thought he knew just about everything when it came to Kurt, was still in the dark compared to Max. He didn’t tell him about Bryce (why cause a riot?) and he didn’t tell him he knew where he kept his porn (there are some things brothers just don’t talk about...), but other than that... Lee knew everything. They were close, and unlike Max, Lee could talk back.
But other than Lee, Max was his closest companion. So it stood to reason things would go to Hell when the old dog died. Kurt would’ve explained this, had anyone decided to listen.
The annual International Arch-Diocesan Choir Competition in NYC. Despite it probably being the only event his school actually sprung money for, the competition was never as exciting as the off-time they held so dear. There were only fourteen of them, and yeah, they usually came out of the damn thing with nothing, but it was a good time. They were a small bunch but they never failed to liven up the stiff atmosphere. Mostly due to the two idiots in the back of the bus who thought choir was an excuse to cut class.
“Dude,” Dex pointed out the window and solidified his reputation as Bus Asshole Number One. “Check it out, Saint Luke’s All-Girl Chorus.”
“Man,” Bus Asshole Number Two, Chuck. “That one up front with the red hair...”
“Alright, everybody out.” The driver was pissed off by now. He’d had enough of those two by the time they hit the turnpike.
Mr. Ibsen, their ancient instructor, ambled out of the bus and rubbed his legs as he leaned on his cane. It was rumored the man was over a hundred, but Kurt highly doubted it. Maybe ninety-eight. “Alright, troops! Fall in!” He’d been a soldier in two wars and taught at a military academy for at least ten years before earning a job as their voice coach. “We will proceed into this hotel, at which point you will all hold position behind me as I check us in. Your roommates will be assigned. When you receive your keys, you are all free until lights out at twenty-two-hundred. We will reconvene here at o’-eight-hundred tomorrow morning, where we will practice for two hours until the competition begins. Are you with me?”
“Sir, yes, Sir!” They all shouted, grinning at one-another. Most of their competitors believed them to be from a military academy thanks to their coach. They didn’t mind much either. Helped attract female attention.
They stood around together as Ibsen got their keys, waiting for the inevitable groans that would come to pass. No one ever liked their roommates during competition. It was practically tradition. In fact, it usually became impossible to deal with said roommate about half-way through.
“... Scalp.” Kurt looked up as his name was called. “You’re with Fallwell.”
He blanched and looked a little to the left. Chuck Fallwell, Bus Asshole Number Two. Perfect. This was why he wanted to drop out of choir this year.
Chuck was just as unhappy. As soon as they got to their room he threw his bag on the first bed and took out his iPod. The universal ‘Don’t Talk To Me’ sign. Kurt didn’t care. He took out his cell and started texting Bryce.
Whats up?
He got a reply ten seconds later.
im at ur house
Confused, he frowned at the cell and decided to call. The phone rang twice before he answered.
“Dude,” Bryce breathed into the phone, sounding a little panicky. The reception was bad so it took him a minute to understand. “Where are you?”
“In New York, I told you I’d be there all weekend.” He frowned again. “What’s going on?”
“I- n’t he- ou. Rec-tion’s shit.” Rolling his eyes, he pocketed a room key and headed for the door.
“I’m going outside, man.” He stared at the phone. “I’ll call you back.”
At three-twenty-seven Kurt hit talk again, staring at the concrete and barely registering the dialtone as he took in the thrumming city all around him. At three-twenty-eight Bryce answered again.
“Can you hear me?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, even though Bryce couldn’t see him. “What’s going on? Why are you at my house?”
“Max.” He blinked his eyes open at the name, dulling his gaze into a bug that somehow managed to survive hundreds of thousands of pedestrian feet. “Some asshole in a pick-up ran him over while your dad was walking him.”
For a split second, he thought it was a dream. He thought that little bug scurrying under his foot would grow huge and destroy half the city. He thought his cellphone would explode. But when he started breathing again, breathing faster, he realized if this was a dream he wouldn’t feel so scared. If this was a dream he wouldn’t feel anything.
“What...?” He asked it nice and slow, holding his gaze on the concrete and remembering he’d have to stand on it in a minute.
“He- shit...” Bryce was probably pacing, phrasing and rephrasing in his mind the words he really hoped he wouldn’t hear. “He didn’t make it. The vets did all they could.”
His lungs constricted and he felt very, very stiff. When the wind swept through his hair in crazy angles he didn’t move to fix it. He just sat there, feeling sick and confused but under that, angry. Just a little angry. Just a tiny bit.
But sitting there like that, the anger was like a pin in his back.
“Okay.” He muttered into the phone. Hearing the scramble stop on the other end, he waited a minute and said it again. “Okay, Bryce.”
“Lee’s here.” Sweeney tried to keep it going. “He wants to-”
“Okay, Bryce, thanks for telling me.” He gasped out. Eyes closed, he felt half-naked. “I have to go now.”
“No! I mean, wait-” Kurt didn’t wait. He ended the call and turned off his phone as he shoved it in his pocket. People walked past him and he didn’t open his eyes until he stood. He wanted to get lost in the crowd.
Kurt had never been badass. Not once.
But he was eighteen now, and Lee was twenty, spending more time at the house than at his apartment. He figured it would be okay to get one, but he got nervous every time he thought about the pain and Lee’s reaction. The pain wouldn’t be as bad as Lee, looking at the ink and saying something like ‘Look at this, man. My little brother grew some balls.’
But he’d told Max he wanted one. He always thought it looked cool. And when he saw the red neon screaming ‘Tattoos, Piercings, Body Art’ he walked in feeling halfway dazed.
The guy up front who probably set off metal detectors gave him a wary look, and he didn’t blame him. Most people thought he was fifteen. But he flashed his ID and started flipping through the art books, not really seeing anything interesting until he got to the back tats. There were a couple nice ones going from shoulder to shoulder, but if he wore the wrong shirt people would notice in a second. And maybe he should’ve planned a little in advance, but it was too late now. He’d already found the tiger marks.
There was a piece in the middle of the book, simple and terrifying though it was, and he stared at it with interest. Four crosses, all tribal and misshapen, half-falling over as though gravity was crushing them. He found himself liking it, feeling the symbolic value, and didn’t know how he was still thinking clearly. Tapping the design, he looked up and smiled at Mr. Metal.
“I want this.” He said through his teeth, tapping it again.
“You sure?” Mr. Metal raised an eyebrow full of steel. “You know it’s a lower back piece, right?”
“That’s where I want it.” His teeth gnashed together a little. He didn’t care anymore. “Can I sign those forms now?”
It didn’t take long. At around five thirty he was back at the hotel, ripping off the plastic and washing his hair, feeling both stupid and brave all at once. Dark tendrils drifted into his face and he slapped them away, crunching shampoo and greasy hair through his fingers. It still stung and buzzed hot through his skin. It helped that he’d stopped thinking about Max the second he heard the needle whir. It helped that he was still on adrenaline.
He pulled on his boxers very slowly and dabbed ointment onto the ink like it was a battle scar. When he walked into the main room to dig through his bag for a shirt, he heard Chuck take off his earphones and slide off his bed. “Dude, when’d you get the fag-tag?”
His eyes skidded to the right, dropping when he realized what Chuck was talking about. “Today.”
“Shit, man...” He whistled low under his breath. “That’s pretty cool.”
It’ll be cool ‘til mom gets a look at it... He threw his t-shirt on the bed. Or Lee. Even Bryce... Shit, what the hell was I thinking?
“Yeah.” He muttered, pulling out his cellphone. When he turned it on he found six missed calls, two from Bryce, three from Lee, one from his dad. He called Bryce.
“Why the Hell did you turn off your phone you asshole?!” Bryce was screaming. “We called you about ten times! What’s wrong with you?!”
“I-” He waited for Bryce to shut up. “I have competition stuff. Practice.”
“You had us all freaking out, you dumbass!” Lee had wrestled the phone away from Bryce. “Max, he-”
“Bryce told me.” He cut his brother off, not wanting to hear it again. “It’s okay, I-I’m okay.”
“Mom wants to get you out of the competition,” Lee’s voice was all static. “She wants you home.”
“Don’t do that.” He said too quickly. “Don’t bring me home yet. I’ve gotta... I’m lead tenor and shit...”
When he hung up, he felt sickly and weak. He stayed up reading comics he’d picked up at a bookstore on the way back to the hotel, and around eight-forty-seven he fell asleep on his stomach, crashing from the adrenaline high.
They rode home on the bus together, Dex brooding out the window two seats back. Chuck didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy sharing his earphones with Kurt and blathering about his sister who just ‘doesn’t know good music’ and ‘can’t pick a decent boyfriend for shit’. Kurt was barely listening. Part of him was wondering what he was going to do when he got home to find no Max waiting for him.
The thought makes his lungs feel a little tighter than normal. What if his father tried to apologize? Like, ‘Son, I know you loved Max more than any of us, and I’m very sorry I let him get mowed into the pavement...’, something like that. Or what if, what if, they tried to replace him? Go to the pound, pick out a brand new puppy and bring it home so poor Kurt would forget about Max? Sounded just like what his folks would do, but if they even thought about it he would kill them. Take out his old baseball bat (never used) and bludgeon their brains into the carpet.
Lee would tell them, he knew. Lee would know exactly what to do. He would be the one waiting at the door to escort him upstairs like one of Paris Hilton’s bodyguards. He would be the one to make Bryce stick around just to give him someone to talk to. Then Bryce would lock the door and let him do what he wants, because they’re just that kind of couple (if they could even be called a couple at all with all their closeted fumbling).
Chuck handed him his email when the bus pulled up in front of school and Kurt tucked it in his pocket, hiking his bag over his shoulder and preparing for the death-march home. He knew his parents wouldn’t come for him, it was only three blocks away, but Lee and Bryce were always iffy. Sometimes Lee would get off work early and pull up in front of school, and sometimes Bryce would be in the passenger side fighting for control of the radio.
His walk back home was hard. It reminded him of walks with Max, and he had to force thoughts of big brown doggy eyes away. He knew it was stupid to get so worked up over a dog, but he’d been the one taking care of Max since puppyhood. He’d been the one to feed and love him almost every day of his life. It didn’t matter how girly it was to mourn a pet, it still hurt. But if he cried he’d never live it down. He should be punching walls, freaking out. That was the manly way.
It took a split second to dig through his bag for the key and when he’d found it he didn’t know if he wanted to go in. If he got ambushed he would fly off the handle. If he was greeted with the ‘sudden silence’ and pitying eyes he’d probably never come out of his room again.
When he opened the door, however... there was nothing.
Maybe they forgot what time he’d be home. He threw his bag on the couch, heading for the kitchen where he figured he’d grab some chips and head to his room. His eyes narrowed as he entered. The kitchen had been painted a grisly mustard color the year before and it was downright blinding at dusk. Opening the fridge, he dug through the contents until he found a can of Pepsi. Looked like Lee had raided the fridge while he was gone.
His eyes darted to the left and he found everything as he’d expected. They’d removed the food and water dish and swept the area clean. He slammed the fridge door shut and crossed toward the cabinet for chips. It didn’t take long for him to realize they were out of snacks, given that even the animal crackers they had bought when they babysat their little cousin were gone.
Rocking back and forth on his heels, he took another small look around the kitchen and gave up. As he climbed the stairs he heard music coming from Lee’s room and figured he was on the net or something. His fingers clamped around the door handle and he turned it slowly, hoping he wouldn’t catch him on any X-Rated sites. But the second he cracked it his eyes grew wide and he clamped a hand over his mouth as he held back a startled yell. He fled instantly and prayed to Heaven he wasn’t seen or heard as he scrambled down the steps and back to the living room.
By the time his heart slowed he had dropped the unopened Pepsi twice and let his shaky hands dig into the couch. His mind whizzed through questions he didn’t really want to answer, and he screwed his eyes shut and tried to forget what he saw. But irony struck him and all of a sudden he had to clap a hand over his mouth and suffocate the acidic giggles that climbed up his throat. How unfair. How totally unfair.
Bryce was on his knees, sucking Lee like a porn star, and before now he’d never blown Kurt at all. In fact, Kurt was the one who’d lost his gag-reflex just to make him happy.
Still, teaching came in handy. Like now, for instance, half an hour after seeing... that, he sat there channel surfing and waiting for his Pepsi to regain its temper enough to open. He heard Lee first, footsteps first loud and hard then (upon hearing the TV) softer and slower than he’d ever heard. Bryce followed behind, he could hear the chains swing on his clothes. Muffled conversations sounded and all was still for a moment before they both came down the stairs and stopped.
“Hey, man.” Lee came over and flopped next to him cool as a cucumber. Bryce was a different story. He hovered behind the couch like he wasn’t sure of his place.
“What’s up, Kurt?” Bryce eyed him, hazel eyes darting nervously from brother to brother. “Welcome back.”
That phrase in itself sounded weird coming from Bryce. Foreign in a way. Speak. “Thanks.” He nodded, picking up his Pepsi and popping the cap. He didn’t look up.
“How was the competition thing?” Lee asked, still cool but all-too interested. “D’you guys win anything?”
“We got trampled, as usual.” Taking a sip, he avoided both gazes with expert efficiency. He finally got it. Lee didn’t know about him and Bryce. He was worried about the Max thing. Despite the grief, it was now the very least of his worries. Bryce, on the other hand, was worried about what he might’ve heard. “I’m gonna unpack now, alright?”
“Dude,” Lee stopped him before he could get up. “You okay?”
“I’m cool.” He nodded dumbly. Play Dead. “Really. I’m just gonna...”
Slipping between them he hitched his bag over his shoulder and tromped up the stairs. If something was going on between them, they could talk it out. They could screw on the couch for all he cared anymore. His heart broke and simmered, taking his whole body with it and bringing back the Max Anger. Magnified to the point where, instead of a pin, it was a bullet. Fired point blank.
He could hear their conversation through the vent. The ‘I’m gonna talk to him’, ‘You’re not gonna tell him anything, right?’ ‘No, just about Max’. He expected that one. He’d expected it from the minute he got on the bus to come home. But now his stomach filled with bile and he gritted his teeth at the thought of touching Bryce again. And then there was the tattoo.
At the thought his skin recalled the needle’s sting and his body lit thirty degrees hotter. Blood rushed to his lower back and he felt the pulse of it throb under his shirt. Should I... His stomach churned. He didn’t want Bryce to see the tattoo. He would kill himself if Bryce saw it. It burned and bit through the skin, memory of pain flushing him and shortening his breath. When he heard the door open he jumped.
Bryce stood there, hair in his face and arm out flat, pushing it shut behind him. “Hey.”
“Hey.” His voice was harsh and croaky. Maybe it was time he actually grieved.
“You sure you’re okay?” When he came towards him Kurt had to square himself, plant his feet into the floor. Stay. “You look weird.”
“I’m okay.” He felt himself nod. It hurt a little. “I’m gonna be fine, just...”
“Okay.” His Jolly Roger vans popped and squeaked on the hard wood. He was coming towards him, he could see it, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop it no matter how hard he tried. The long arms tangled with his, pulling him in and trapping him in place.
“Bryce.” Trying to say it firmly, he opened his eyes as he felt lips on his and became vulnerable inside for the third time that week. Their mouths locked and unlocked, underwhelming and bleak. Tongues touched, teeth clacked together and lips slid vibrantly in motion, but under it all he could feel Bryce’s nerves just crash. And he knew Bryce could feel him dying.
When he felt a pull at his shirt he forced his paramour away, pushing and shoving until they were five feet apart. He tugged his shirt down. “Can’t, Bryce.” He murmured, eyes on the floor. “Max...”
He felt his eyes fill with tears, nothing to do with his deceased dog, and kept the words coming. “I need some time, okay?”
“Okay.” Bryce nodded again, stepping away and taking a sidelong glance at the mirror on the way out. Kurt sat down on his bed and tried to make the anger go away.
The comic no longer interested him. Throwing it aside he slid out of bed and woke his laptop, landing in his chair and rolling like an idiot. When the internet was functional he dug through his pocket for Chuck’s email and headed for his inbox. No mail, none worth reading anyway. He deleted the spam and added Chuck to his contacts. The address book was sparse and barely used. Cracking and popping his fingers, he typed.
Subject: You’re a loser
I think I have two pairs of your socks and I know I have your ZZ-Top t-shirt. You suck at packing.
When he sent it he felt good. Chuck was an okay guy. They could probably hang as long as he stayed mellow. He couldn’t be quite sure about him yet. There was still the old ‘Bus Asshole’ vibe hanging over his head. But it seemed as long as they kept things cool Chuck would be just fine.
In the meantime, he had to figure out a way to keep himself out of the way. Bryce was with his brother, yeah, and he figured the best way to stay in the far side of things was to avoid Sweeney like the plague and give his brother no reason for suspicion. That alone was enough work. But he guessed as long as the two lovebirds had their alone-time...
“Yo.” The muffled call came through the wood. “You decent?”
“Decent What?” He looked over his shoulder, grinning at the door as it opened. Lee stood there shaking his head.
“How you doin’, man?” More serious than usual. Way more. “You feelin’ alright?”
“Told Bryce I’m fine.” Staring at his brother he felt a little tug at his stomach. Bryce was with the better man. Just looking at him gave that one away. Kurt may have looked like his brother, but it was far from a perfect match with his skinny arms and pale face. Lee was the older brother. He got the good genes.
“Bryce said you weren’t.” As for right now, Kurt wondered if he was the only one who knew anything about tact. “He said you weren’t acting right.”
Yeah... Asshole still wanted to make sure he didn’t see anything. Bryce, you paranoid little fucker... “Bryce thinks he knows me.”
“Hey,” That ‘hey’ was stern and marked. “I know I know you, and I know you’re not acting right, so back off on Bryce and talk to me.”
He loved how Lee was defending Bryce right then. Loved it. It was almost funny.
“I’m pissed about Max.” He made the mistake of lying. Lee always caught him, even when they were kids. Said he sucked at telling stories. Eyes turned away and he stared at the stupid floor and regretted his stupid mouth had ever shot off those stupid words.
“Yeah, but you’re not pissed like we expected.” Lee was full of dark. Just dark. Dark eyes, dark hair, dark voice. Everything dark and careful. “We thought you’d be killin’ yourself over this.”
Taking a loud breath he exed his page online and swivelled the chair around. “I’m not. I just can’t believe I was that stupid.”
His brother blinked and straightened a little, faced with his full force. For a moment he could see that little ‘What does he mean?’ cross his eyes, followed closely by a ‘Does he know?’ and a ‘Bryce wouldn’t tell him, right?’ and a moment of blankness. It was really all about Bryce, wasn’t it? The whole problem. Would there even be a problem if Bryce wasn’t there? Fucking Bryce and his eyes that always reassured...
Catching his brother’s eyes he waded through their depths and thought of all the ways this thing could blow up in their faces. Wreck that cool dark stare with a confession. With an ‘I know, I’ve loved him too’. This was delicate. Spiderwebs and porcelain style delicate.
“I should never have left him here with you.” His eyes hit the floor again.
He heard Lee nod, all that crunching of leather. His jacket snuggled itself around him; he was probably going out. “Max was a good dog. We all loved him.”
“Not as much as I do.”
“Okay.” Lee stared at him and his body felt hot and light. “Okay. None of us loved that dog as much as you. He’s gone, and yeah you’ll hate us for a while, especially dad. But you can’t crawl in your closet and hide from us. You know I’ll beat your ass before I see you go all emo.”
“I ain’t emo.” You just keep screwing me up, Lee... “Can I have my room back now?”
“No.” He came in, shutting the door and crossing the room his way. Somehow Lee always looked badass. “I’ve gotta talk to you.”
If it’s about Max you can have Bryce shove it up your hole... “What?”
“I’m...” He trailed off, brushing his hair out of his face and cutting a short path toward the bed. When he sat down the springs groaned and he dropped his face into his hands. “I need you to know something, but don’t tell nobody. It’s somethin’ big, alright?”
“Okay.” Kurt chewed on the inside of his cheek, waiting for the inevitable.
“I’m with somebody.”
“...Okay?” He waited for the rest, the continuation. Couldn’t stand the waiting.
“It’s a guy, Kurt.”
And hearing it hurt as much as seeing it. Bryce’s eyes flashed through his mind and he wondered how long and what happened and was he thinking of me even if he couldn’t stand the answers. Lee was so shaky, like he was afraid he would flip out. His eyes were so dark in the shadows of his room he couldn’t see their pupils. Watching his face, his older brother cupped his hands over his lips and under his chin. Waiting just like he was.
“Okay.” He nodded like it was the most natural thing, and Lee’s relief was palpable. “Who is it?”
“He doesn’t want people to know.” Kurt could picture Bryce’s lips, spelling out ‘Don’t Tell’ on Lee’s tan shoulder. “Christ, this is just...”
“It’s alright, man.” He heard himself say. “Do what you do. You like this guy, go ahead.”
Lee was almost giddy. He jumped off the bed and hugged him around the shoulders. “I love you, little guy!”
“I told you to stop calling me that three years ago.”
“Fine.” He released him and Kurt felt slightly off-center. “Alright! So, Pizza or Chinese?”
“Teriyaki Beef and fried dumplings.” He called over his shoulder. “And I want your white rice!”
“You’re a freak.”
“What’re you doin’ hangin’ with that douche-bag?” Lee made no secret of his annoyance, glaring out the door and pointing like a little child. “He’s got more drugs in his system-”
“Shut it, Lee.” He glared, crossing his arms over his chest and playing just as childish. “He’s a good guy.”
“Man, I better not catch you snortin’ nothin’-”
“Chuck!” He called into the living room. “Your stuff’s on my bed! Second door down!”
He tried to leave, but Lee caught his arm. “You’re not stupid, right?”
Pulling his arm away was the most independent thing he’d ever done.
“Is it healin’ up good?” He asked as he rifled through Kurt’s bag for his other pair of socks. “Looked pretty good when you left. Wasn’t as red, but it was still raised. Does it hurt to sit down or anything?”
“It’s fine.” He retrieved the ointment he’d hidden in his bedside table the second he was alone. “Just needs to heal up.”
“Need help with that?” He pointed to the tube eagerly, freckled face lighting with a smile. “My dad gets new ones all the time and sometimes he can’t reach...”
“I think I’m good.” He rolled his eyes to himself and peeled off his shirt and squeezed a dollop of it onto his fingers. “It doesn’t hurt as much.”
Chuck didn’t listen. He helped him apply the ointment, light fingers shocking hot skin. When he touched he was careful and thorough. Kurt leaned back into it, closing his eyes and feeling little pricks of pain in that soothing motion. It was almost seductive. So when Chuck backed away like it was nothing, a sad and lonely feeling bit his nerves.
“Okay.” His voice wasn’t solid, and Kurt caught it right away. “Um, where should I put this?”
He wondered if Chuck knew he was this easy to read. “That drawer.”
The awkwardness left after that. They were friends, talking as they played video games and keeping themselves occupied. He could hear Lee downstairs laughing at the TV. All sound of concern was gone. Hell, there was no real need for it. Chuck was an okay guy. He had a way with jokes once you got him interested. He was also quite awesome at Soul Caliber II, which only added to his coolness.
“So what’s with the crosses?” He asked as he kicked Kurt’s ass with Voldo.
“I dunno.” Kurt replied, trying a combo and failing miserably. “Looked cool.”
“Why’d you get it there, though?” The question was drove home as Voldo brought Hong’s health down to near-nil. “You ain’t a chick.”
“I’m gay.” He answered, letting Voldo drop-kick him to death. “Close enough, ain’t it?”
“Not really.” They tore through the battle-recap screens and began the next round. “Bet I can take you down in a minute and a half.”
“Go.”
Kurt got up and found him tearing through a bagel he’d apparently scrounged from the meager offering their kitchen held. When he saw Kurt was awake he threw the thing aside and moved immediately to check the tat, forcing up the oversized t-shirt he wore just as he had the day before. His fingers brush the skin, slightly less raised, and he wished he knew what the hell kind of signals this kid was sending. Almost, really, he was almost positive Chuck had an interest in him. But even though he seems comfortable enough with him and his preferences he hasn’t acted. Even when he dropped hints himself.
It’s funny, he hesitates too. Chuck’s great. Really witty and fun to be around. He’s only known him for ten days now but with the light and easy way things are going it feels like just enough. His only concerns involve Bryce. Like, for instance, is he only turned on by Chuck because he knows it will piss Bryce off? Is it okay to cheat when you know your partner’s cheating? Is it even cheating if you’re not really in a relationship in the first place (after all, what do you call years of fuck-buddy-ship)?
“It looks good, man.” Giving him a toothy grin Chuck slides a finger around the art like he had every other time. “That hurt?”
“Not anymore.”
“Good.” His hair was curly and funny-looking the way it framed his face. Kurt liked it. “I’m gonna get the ointment stuff, alright? Gimme a minute.”
“Yeah, okay.” He smiled over his shoulder and watched him head to the night-stand. “So what is it, man? You like me or the tat?”
Chuck stopped and Kurt caught it before he moved back into reflex. “What? You goin’ girlie-fag on me? Wanna talk about our ‘feelings’?”
He laughed and turned around completely. “Yeah, that’s right. And after that you’re gonna go all butch and pretend you don’t want it.”
“Naw,” He found the tube and spread some over his fingers. “I’m not that butch. Probably just wind up goin’ pissy emo-queen.”
“You ain’t that emo neither.”
“Then what’m I supposed to do?”
“Tell me you want me so I can make you my bi-curious man-puppet.” Smirking wide he took a good look at Chuck’s ass and just prayed he was doing this right. He was going with it, yeah, but he’d never seduced anyone before and he was pretty sure Chuck had never been seduced (unless there was something more going on with Dex, which... was just not probable, given his ungodly resemblance to a Shetland Pony). “Or, you know, don’t. Your choice.”
The cool ointment made him jump for a second until Chuck’s fingers started rubbing it in. “Not doin’ the man-puppet thing.”
Closing his eyes he leaned into the touch and let the healing hand palm against the small of his back. The ink wasn’t painful anymore, no real reason to keep putting the stuff on it. Except, maybe, for this feeling he was having right that second. With Fallwell touching it and loving it and worshiping it... And he didn’t normally feel so powerful; so completely bad-ass. Lee was the bad-ass one, yeah, always. Everybody knew it. But for some reason this guy hadn’t gotten that memo and maybe...
... God, maybe he liked it.
“The cross on the end, the one all tilted over...” Chuck was talking. He should be listening. “So cool...”
“You either need to get over the ink or get one for yourself.” Opening his eyes he smiled down at him only to find him staring. His eyes were off-focus, like he was daydreaming. “Hey, get one with Dex’s name on it. Then if you two get jailed you can be his bitch and-” His breath caught hard and fast when his former roommate leaned about two inches above the tattoo and laid his lips in the center of his spine in more of a nip than a kiss.
“-Jesus!” His teeth scratched smooth over the vertebra, and hands reached up to cup against his hips and plant his legs firmly on the floor. The teeth went away and soon it was just lips climbing his spine like a ladder. The curls tickled his back and he tried very hard not to move because it felt fucking amazing and Hell if he was going to screw it up.
As he pushed the shirt up a little Kurt can’t help but raise his arms and feel. When he got between his shoulder-blades his tongue darted out to slide between them and the victim’s mouth dropped open as he lost all the breath he’d just been holding. It was about then Chuck got off his knees and he lost the shirt. He wasn’t even thinking of the tat anymore, even as the start and finish of it all, and when Fallwell slid his arms around his waist and started fooling with his boxers he didn’t stop using his mouth. Making sweet little bites on the nape of his neck and slowly breathing out onto his shoulder as though the whole process had taken a lot out of him and not the other way around-
“Yo!” Lee busted through the door and took a whole three seconds to realize what he was seeing. “I’m goin’ to work. There’s cold pizza in the fridge if you wan-”
“Shit, Lee!”
“What the-” He jumped forward and Chuck jumped back. They were both a second too late. Lee’s eyes were on Kurt stark deadly. The fact that he was half-nude probably didn’t help. “Kurtis!”
“I-” His mouth opened and closed. Funny how he was really more concerned about Lee seeing the tattoo than Lee catching them like that. He criss-crossed to the counter and leaned against it, heavily tense. “We weren’t-”
But Lee wasn’t focused on him anymore. “You fucking piece of shit!” He was livid, grabbing the defenseless Chuck by the collar of the t-shirt he wore. When he tried to get away, the more rough-and-tumble Scalp brother was quick to hook an arm under his and start pulling him forcefully toward the door. As he twisted and yelled he was forced out of the bedroom embarrassingly quick. “Get outta here!”
“Lee-!”
“You shut up!” Fallwell was trying to get his things together. “And you, I don’t give a fuck about your shit, just go!”
“Lee, stop freakin’ out!”
“Shut up, Kurt!”
“I’ll call you later.” Chuck was scratching his head half-dazed. “See you.”
“Lee!”
“What the Hell were you thinking?!”
“It’s not Chuck’s fault!”
“What were you doin’?! You tell me what you were doin’, you tell me right fuckin’ now!”
Neither of them noticed Chuck leaving, feet hitting the pavement like it would save him from certain death.
Lee was wearing that shirt now, stretched taut over his chest and stomach in obscene angles. Kurt wondered if he even noticed, but given his older brother’s hard-earned reputation he didn’t doubt it. But that wasn’t even the point, was it? The point was trying to keep the tat hidden and calm Lee down at the same time.
“What is it Kurt?” Lee was off his hanger, yelling and pointing and acting totally childish. It was just his style. “What, you- you gettin’ dope from ‘im? ‘Cause I’m tellin’ you man, if you’re on shit I will rip you open-”
“I’m not a junkie!” He yelled back. “I’m not on smack or coke or even pot! I don’t do that shit! Chuck’s just a friend! I didn’t even know he was using!”
“Oh, yeah, you two looked real friendly-”
“We haven’t done anything!”
“What is this?” His hair was getting in the way, falling out of the hair-band he’d used to pull it back and dropping in front of his eyes. “Is this some kind of hero-worship thing? ‘Cause you don’t need a fuckin’ boy-toy-”
“I’ve been gay way longer than you have, asshole.” He glared, crossing his arms over his chest and ignoring the ointment he was smearing on the pillow.
“Oh, fuck you!”
“I’m dead serious.” He spat. When Lee stopped and stared he knew he was finally listening. “You want the truth? I’ve been with someone since sophomore year. You’ve just been stupid about it the whole damn time.”
“You’re a liar.” But he could see Lee’s eyes were fixed on him without mercy. He knew he wasn’t lying. He just didn’t want to believe it.
Shaking his head he laughed without remorse and waited for it to all kick in. “You’re a dumbass. There. We’re even.”
“You’ve been screwin’ around with Chuck all this time-”
“Not Chuck.” He rolled his eyes. Trust his brother to miss everything. “But yeah, I like him, so if you could just let it be...”
“Who’s the other guy?”
“Who’s your guy, Lee?” He asked spitefully, glaring at the brother he could never hate. He just felt sorry. So stupidly sorry. “Think that’s only fair. You show me your guy and I’ll show you mine.”
“That’s what this is about?” Lee was lost to it as always. “You wanna know who I’m with. That’s what it’s all about.”
“I-” already know... He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t even think about it all that much. Breaking Lee’s heart like that... “Yeah, I wanna know. But that’s not-”
“Well forget it, kid! This is all me. It’s not your issue.” His dark eyes flashed down his body and Kurt got the shakes. “You shouldn’t be screwin’ around like this anyway.”
He stared a little too long and for a moment they both wondered if this would get heavy. All these things, twisting up the way they were. But Lee’s head was spinning over men Kurt might’ve seen and Kurt was praying the inevitable wouldn’t come. Because soon Lee was going to figure it out and then he didn’t know what would happen.
So when Lee came closer as though he was examining him he felt his nerves flee even as he smooshed the ink into the counter. He’d been mad before, but he knew if Lee figured it out he’d be heartbroken like a teenage girl. No way could he do that to him.
Even as Lee touched his leg, thigh, then hip as he strayed his eyes across his body tenderly he knew he couldn’t. He had to drop this before his brother got hurt. Because despite the whole image he’d worked so hard for Lee was scared this time. Bryce could really bend somebody backwards (Kurt should know) and he’d done a number on Lee where his heart was concerned. And Kurt was his brother. He wasn’t going to hurt him no matter how hard it would be.
“You’re growin’ up.” Lee breathed as he looked down upon him. “Gonna go to college soon. Gonna make somethin’ of yourself.”
“It’s okay, Lee.”
“It’s not.” His heart beat three stuttering beats as the hand touching his hip grazed the side of the small of his back and the tattoo was all he could think about. “Should be takin’ care of you better. Mom an’ dad don’t give a shit, so I should be the one-”
“I’m okay.” He moved a little so the hand was away from his side. God, he’d wanted to- “I’m sorry, though. For not telling you.”
“Fuck, kid.” When Lee laughed he felt much better. “Don’t blame ya. It’s not easy to talk about.”
“Why did you tell me?”
“‘Cause you’re my brother.” He sighed, dropping a hand to run through Kurt’s hair affectionately. “And I needed somebody to tell me it’s okay.”
When Lee left, Kurt called Bryce. He left a message on his cellphone saying they needed to talk.
By the time he called again he was chatting online with Chuck and playing the game so he ignored him again. On purpose. Because he felt like being an asshole.
fallguy89: I h8 the little pink box thing
scalped101: really annoying. I usually get rid of them first.
fallguy89: that would be a good idea.
The phone on his bed buzzed threateningly and he could hear without answering Bryce was having a little mental hissy-fit. He didn’t really want to feel this malicious. But it was almost impossible not to grin when the ringing stopped and silence reigned supreme. Manipulative? Maybe. But he was still pissed off and the bitch deserved it.
scalped101: do u wan 2 hang out l8r?
fallguy89: only if u feel lik goin2 dexs
scalped101: damn. How long u gonna b there?
fallguy89: 9:30, mayb 10 if I get stuck. not hangin ur house again neway
scalped101: no worries. lees got somebody 2 tongue his balls. Don’t think he’ll notice if u show.
Exing out the game he headed over to the chest of drawers and started pulling out all the crappy t-shirts he’d accumulated over the years. Orange, green, blue, black, red; all at least two years old and half-stained. The only thing that looked moderately clean was a gray muscle-shirt he remembered wearing in freshman year. As he changed he felt the hem stop just below his belly-button. The cotton was riding the tips of the ink so that the tan of his skin was just visible along with dark halves of his rubber crosses. When he checked it out in the mirror he felt radical.
His AIM window chimed and he brushed a hand through his hair before he headed back to the computer. Chuck’s message was blinking.
fallguy89: u feel lik hittin the creek 2nite? D says theres a lil somethin goin on up there
scalped101: yea ok
fallguy89: don’t tell ur bro he’ll shit bricks.
scalped101: ya think?
“Why the Hell don’t you pick up your phone?”
“Busy.” He answered shortly, letting a catty lilt fall into his voice. “What’s up?”
“We need to talk?”
“Yeah...” He trailed off and dropped onto his bed, raising his knees and planting his feet loosely onto the mattress. “Um, listen, I’m not gonna be home tonight, okay?”
“Oh.” Bryce didn’t sound as angst-ridden as he should’ve. “That sucks. I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I know.” He sighed like he hated it. Leaned into his pillow and smiled because he knew how hard it was to believe he could actually lie. “But yeah, I was wondering if you’d cover for me. Tell Lee I’m out babysitting your cousins or something.”
“Why? Where’re you going?”
“Nowhere special.” Tugging down his shirt he rolled over and waited a second. “One of my friends from choir needs help practicing and shit. We’re just gonna run the songs for the next concert and hang out in the woods.”
“Why d’you need a cover?”
“Lee hates his guts.” He smirked wide and switched ears. “Isn’t too discreet about it either.”
Bryce laughed, a sound that once would’ve made him smile. “He never is.”
“Nope.” His stomach made a lurching move that let him know how far he was from hating him. “Lee’s not the best at keeping things quiet.”
He was silent for a beat. Then he laughed like nothing was wrong. “So, what? You gonna make it up to me?”
“Maybe next week.” His own laughter was quick and sharp. “I’m sort of busy. If you get desperate you can always hump Lee’s leg.”
This time he laughed nice and easy. He was terrified and Kurt knew it. “There’s an image.”
“Scares me just thinkin’ about it.” Thinking about pulling his hair back he finally decided against it and let it slump onto the pillow. “Hey, how ‘bout you stay over? We can hang out when I get home.”
“Okay.” This seemed to make him happier. “Should I bring anything?”
“Only if you wanna get laid, loser.” He rolled his eyes but smirked wide.
“I was thinking Bloody Roar or the Simpsons Movie bootleg but yeah, that works.” He could hear the grin in Bryce’s voice and knew exactly what he was thinking. Kurt’s out of his funk. He’s not thinking about Max anymore. We’re still sleeping together. I’m in the clear...
“So, yeah, keep Lee occupied and I’ll be home around eleven.” Chewing on the inside of his lip, he looked to the ceiling as he waited for lightning to strike. “Don’t forget, alright?”
The creek wasn’t far into the woods and it was a regular spot for teens and the college crowd. Once a very nice place, it had been defaced by years of delinquent activity and partying. Most nights it was the place to take your buddies and drink. But sometimes more than enough people would gather and things got interesting. As interesting as drug-stupid teens got, anyway.
It hadn’t occurred to him that Chuck might actually deal until a group came up to them and smacked a twenty into his hand as they eyed him with slight suspicion. “Who’s this now?” The tallest one, a funky faux-blond with a rich-boy smile, was the first to question. “Dex ain’t doin’ it for you no more?”
“Dex never did it for anybody.” He was bold and he didn’t know why, but he stepped in anyway and checked him out leisurely. “Kurt.”
When the tall one laughed they all seemed to loosen up. Chuck turned and gave him the kind of smile he’d never seen. But even as he smiled back they checked him out head to toe, eyes tapping the ink that could be seen just under the shirt hem. The dyed blond landed a hand on his girlfriend’s hip and kept his eyes on him. Inside he was half-frozen. “Kurt, like Kurt Scalp? Lee’s kid brother?”
“Depends,” He got that a lot. Wasn’t like he wasn’t expecting it from this crowd anyway. “He owe you money or hit on your girl?”
When he laughed again he knew they liked him well enough. So he stepped back and leaned an arm around Chuck’s shoulders as he waited. When his ‘date’ passed a couple of bags toward the group they nodded and left. One of the chicks patted his ass as she passed by.
Once they were out of earshot he bumped his hip against Chuck and grinned. “So you do sell. My brother isn’t full of shit.”
“That a bad thing?” His hand slid down his back and landed on his hipbone. “‘Cause I’d really like to get you high enough to blow me.”
“I don’t use. You won’t have any luck with beer either.” Smiling wide he let his own arm fall to waist level. “But maybe you won’t need it.”
“Tease.”
“Bitch.”
“Girlie-Fag.”
Kurt punched him in the arm and Chuck only pulled him closer.
When he finally headed over he dumped the beer in the bushes and crunched the can under his foot. “You gonna stare at me all night or what?”
“I’m getting bored waiting.” His pulse began to race as he leaned back against the long-dead tree he’d found. “You gonna make a move?”
“C’mere.”
But he didn’t come closer, Chuck did. Arms sliding out to his sides he firmly pressed their lips together and slid their bodies to interlock. His body pushed him against the tree and mashed itself against Kurt’s, swaying a little as they shifted their lips and Kurt opened his mouth. Sweet trickling feelings washed through his stomach and he moved his legs half-apart as his buddy gripped his hips and pressed his appreciation between them.
Lips slick and swollen, he pulled away for a second before diving back in and lifting his arms around his neck. His shirt rode up and the tat stung hotly against the unforgiving wood. Hissing into the kiss he allowed his body to slowly rock with Chuck’s, back and forth from the heat of the other body to the cold damp wood touching his ink. The friction was amazing, sweet and slow, building up as their tongues spelled out all they’d do when alone together.
His clothes felt heavy and his shirt rode up against the tree, showing off his stomach and allowing Chuck’s hands to roam where they pleased. It didn’t surprise him when they sunk against the small of his back, butterflying against the tat and scraping nails just above his ass. The kiss ended and his mouth fell wet and hot against his neck, breathing in and out in quick little puffs because God Knows he couldn’t be expected to breathe right then. His hair got in the way but he didn’t move to push it back. His boyish paramour leaned his own lips against his throat and bit, stilling as Kurt’s small grunt against his ear made him shiver. When he sucked hard, Kurt knew he’d regret it. But right then it all felt too good to stop.
“You’re still awake?” He tried to sound incredulous and prayed Lee would be too tired for an argument. False hope.
Feet dropping to the floor as he rolled to standing, he ran a hand through his overgrown hair and paced toward him in haste. “Kurtis. Samuel. Fucking. Scalp!”
“I was jus-”
“Babysitting?!” It was half-chortle-half-yell. “You little shit-head, how the fuck do you explain babysitting at four in the Goddamn morning?!”
“They came home late! I-”
“Then tell me,” Taking a breath he buried his teeth into the center of his lip and glared, eyes half-dark. “Tell me how come I got a phone call two hours ago from fuckin’ Ollie Packard sayin’ you’re plastered and gettin’ head from Chuck Fucking Fallwell up at the creek-”
“I wasn’t plastered, Lee!”
“Oh, well fuck me! That sure as Hell ain’t roses I smell. Gonna tell me you weren’t smokin’ shit neither? Fuckin’ piss-ass, lyin’ like our dead fuckin’ dog-!”
“Shut up, Lee!” His voice cracked and he knew he was screaming. It ached like steel and fire coming up his throat. “Shut Up! Only reason Ollie’s got you on speed-dial is he knows you bring the fuckin’ beer! So don’t you try talkin’ like you haven’t done shit! I’ve seen you high, I’ve fuckin’ helped you come down! You can’t say shit about what I do!”
“I’m your brother!” His yells shook the house. “Mom and dad don’t do shit, we don’t have nobody else, so that means it’s me lookin’ out for you. Me. And I ain’t lettin’ you wind up in a damn ditch somewhere.”
“I wasn’t fucking drunk!”
Snorting obnoxiously, the older Scalp stepped closer and made a show out of getting into his face. “I don’t give a shit. If I hear you’re anywhere near those assholes ever again I will break every bone in your legs just to keep you here.”
“Oh, yeah, so you can fuck around with Ollie and his crew but I’m-”
In his face even more now. Glaring black into his eyes. “You ain’t gonna screw yourself up. No way. You ain’t me, bro.”
“Yeah, but I could be.” He licked his lips, looking away because he knew he was about to hit home but he couldn’t stop his mouth. “Hand me a fuckin’ eight-ball and we could be twins.”
Rough fists dug into his collar and pulled. Sour breath cut into his face as he tried to stand his ground and succeeded against all predictions. When his eyes finally reached his brother’s face he was livid, staring at him like he’d just insulted the soul of his being. His hair was wild, flaying out into a lion’s mane but curling around his face soft and devilishly pointed. “That what this is about?”
His lungs were in pain so he took a slow mechanical breath. They crinkled out like tinfoil, or a plastic bag someone was trying to open in his chest. Lee’s eyes focused on him and for the first time since this began there was guilt instead of anger. Severe, despairing guilt. His lips were taut and it began to feel different. His legs felt boneless and Lee felt like the strongest thing in the world. Even the fingers around his shirt felt hard as diamonds, but still hot and twisting around the cotton. The air between them grew thick.
“I stopped doin’ coke, Kurt.” It sounded like muttering but it was directed at him, rushed and soft. “I quit. Cold turkey after that, man. No coke since. Jesus, if that’s what this is... God, Kurt, I’m so sorry. I’m- I can’t stop thinkin’- Every night I wonder what would’ve happened-”
“Christ, Lee, don’t!” He commanded, feeling sick to his stomach and all things unnecessary. It was too long ago to think about. “It’s not about the accident.”
“Then What The Hell?!” His tone was pleading and guilty, turning this whole conversation sick.. But Kurt could feel his own heart pounding, his blood running. Hyper-aware. “You’ve gotta tell me how to stop this! I can’t sit here and wait for you to wind up dead!”
“I’m not gonna-”
“You almost died ‘cause of me!” It sounded guilty, but just as selfish as he knew his brother would always be. “I ain’t lettin’ you outta my sight no more!”
“I’m not an idiot!” He yelled, feeling stupid and angry at the same time. Old feelings from an old fight. “I know it was stupid! I’m not fooling around with that shit anymore, and you know I wouldn’t!”
“Wouldn’t fuck around with Fallwell neither, right?” He glowered painfully as he loosened his grip. Kurt’s heart felt glued to his fingers, beating hard and pushing through his skin. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been a fuckin’ head-case since Max-”
“Maybe this is all about Max...” He trailed off and let his candy-coated voice proclaim his sarcasm. “Maybe this is just me grieving over my dead dog, trying to figure out why my family is stupid enough to walk him in the middle of the street...”
“It was an accident!”
“Your fly’s open.”
Lee looked down and paled a little, dropping his lips in that loose way that always meant he had no idea what to say. Kurt hit the nail on the head when he backed away and turned.
“So have fun hangin’ with Bryce earlier?”
Still more silence. Then-
“What the fuck is that on your back?”
Eyes widening, he stood in horror as his whole body tensed and locked under Lee’s gaze. It was a mutiny. Every last nerve, bone, muscle and tendon froze and refused his mental order to run. The ink stuck out hot in the scrutiny and he pulled down his shirt a little hoping Lee would let it go. Once again it was false hope. He could hear the stomping of boots as they crossed toward him dangerously and he held his breath when he felt those diamond fingers curl around the hem of his shirt. “What is it, marker?”
A slow exhale later he closed his eyes and felt the cotton climb his back in a half-hazard roll. “Shit, Kurt...”
It was plain as day. Four crosses, all tribal and misshapen, half-falling over as though gravity was crushing them.
Lee’s hand fell away, stopped in mid-air, then reached back and touched. The skin was long-healed and barely even pink. But the touch of his fingers made his back half-arch, nerves sensitive enough to pop beneath his skin. His breath hitched hard and he squeezed his eyes shut as his brother traced a long and calloused finger over the third cross, then scratched a nail over it, making him hiss. He scratched again so he could know for sure it wasn’t fake. And Kurt knew right then he was in hot water.
“You little...” It was breathy and harsh, half-admonishing and half-admiring. “I can’t believe this shit...”
Nails ran over it again and he heard himself speak in a voice barely recognizable. “Stop. That fuckin’ stings.”
The hands moved away and he felt drunk and heavy. A whole load of problems and secrets buzzed through his brain, old and new, and he couldn’t seem to find one more important than all the others. The tattoo. Bryce. Chuck. Max dying. His mistake three years before. They all seemed to blur together as Lee couldn’t seem to stop staring. Couldn’t seem to move his lips.
It was all silent for a beat before Kurt learned how to speak again. And just like before, he couldn’t stop himself. It was all coming together now. “I know you’re fucking around with Bryce.”
Shoulders slumped and Lee stepped away, looking to the side and apparently trying to forget his little brother’s skin was now marred for life. Kurt continued. “I saw him sucking you off when I came home from New York.”
“Okay.” The soft voice didn’t suit him well. It cut that asshole image he’d worked so hard to wear. “Yeah, I am.”
“He’s been with me for two years.”
When the words came out, Lee’s eyes went wide as plates. The darkness in them reappeared but magnified to cover every inch of brown. He stepped back and looked around for an out, suddenly nervous around his own baby brother. Because he knew he wasn’t lying. This was no joke. Not now, when they were fighting and every last card was on the table. “You...”
“You can keep it up if you want.” He murmured, trying to end this and get away before he lost his nerve. “I stopped screwin’ around with him when I saw you. He doesn’t know I know anything, but...” A small exhale and he looked to his feet. “It’s done.”
The dark curls seemed to wrack out into twisty pointed darts. His eyes went angry onyx. His hands and mouth clenched tight and closed. “Okay.” Voice thick and greasy as butter, he started moving toward the stairs; a man on a mission. “Alright.”
“Lee...” He tried to stop it. Tried to grab him from behind. But the man was steel coated with skin and clothes, shaking his arm off and banging up the stairs uncaring of neighbors. “Lee, wait a minute!”
But he didn’t wait. He charged up the stairs and slammed through every door; his room, the bathroom, their parent’s room. When he finally reached Kurt’s room at the end of the hall he didn’t even stop to look. The door swung open and he pounded his way inside refusing to stop until he had Bryce in his sights.
Bryce, for his part, looked perfectly innocent. Sprawled half-way across the bed mashing buttons on his PSP. He didn’t even look up until Lee was towering over him with a scowl like no other. Kurt was behind him, trying to hold his tongue because whatever he said seemed to make matters worse. The dark of his room, corrupted by the video game light, gave them all a shadow that made them look inhuman. Kurt was the only one to notice.
“You wanna explain this?” His voice was low and deadly. Both Kurt and Bryce flinched.
“What? What happened?” His glasses gleamed blue. He looked pathetic. “Explain what?”
“You been messin’ wit’ me?” Lee beared down on him and took the hand-held away, slamming it shut. “Fuckin’ around with my brother?”
Bryce gaped like a fish, swallowing air and passing his eyes between them both. Kurt looked away before he could catch his glance. A little voice in his head was telling him to panic. “It wasn’t- no! It’s not like that!”
“Man,” A slow exhale and he was pulling Bryce to stand. “You better shut your mouth ‘cause I’m this close to knockin’ your face off-”
“Lee! Stop!”
“Shut up, Kurt!” His eyes shot to his brother before moving back to Bryce. “Man, I told you to protect him! Don’t let ‘im get in trouble! An’ what’chu say?! What was it, like ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he’s alright’. Bullshit!”
“You what-”
“Get out, Kurt!”
“No, You! What the Fuck, Lee?!”
“It’s not like that! Kurt, it’s not like this!” Bryce was desperate by then, throwing himself between them like he was on wheels.
“That’s exactly what it’s fuckin’ like!” Lee could be heard from a mile away by then. “I tell you to watch his back and you fuckin’-”
“I didn’t!” He was yelling too now, trying to salvage anything. “It’s not-”
“You will never,” Voice dropping to a low growl, he leaned in close and glared right into his eyes. “Never, go near my brother again. You hear me?”
When Bryce finally nodded Lee dropped the electronic toy back into his hands and pushed him hard. “Now blow.”
He’d never seen Bryce leave so fast, or look so awful.
But one day they came home early, just as the friends were leaving. Lip-ring guy tousled his hair and the girls giggled and shifted in their skirts. Max was friendly and easygoing, barking as he nosed the blue-haired kid’s hand. They all left him there an hour before their parents got home. Lee was probably still in his room.
Max was the one who butted the door open, padding into Lee’s inner sanctum like he owned the place. He was there, sprawled out on a bean bag with a not-quite-right look on his face. Pen shell on the bed, lying next to his dressing mirror. There was still white powder splashed over the surface, two half-hazard lines still stretching through the middle.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He muttered, looking down as his brother ambled to his feet and headed for the bathroom. A slam later he was left alone with Max and two lines of powder he’d only ever seen on CSI and Cops...
He tried to type Chuck an email just to get his head together.
Yo Dude
Last night was great. Give me a call later if you want. I’ve got some issues at home right now (dead dog, parental neglect, twisted love triangle involving my brother and a bug-eyed baby-dick named Bryce; you know, the usual family shit). But if you wanna hook up later I’m game.
He deleted it all. It didn’t sound right. Fuck, it sounded more pathetic than anything else. He really was a girly-fag.
Sighing to himself he turned off the computer and threw off his clothes. He was too tired to deal with any of this. Really, he felt like he’d just run a marathon. Bryce was gone and Lee knew about the tattoo and Chuck Fallwell (formerly Bus Asshole # 2) was making out with him at boozers and Max was dead. He hated all of it, and as he bit the inside of his cheek he balled up his shirt and tossed it into the hamper frustrated. He just wanted to sleep it off. Maybe forget about Bryce’s scared voice and Chuck’s searing lips. He thought about Lee, though. Because it was impossible not to.
His angry oblivion eyes that made his whole body feel small and frail and breakable.
God... His mind whispered as he curled under his blanket wishing for an end. This is so fucked...
Lee was his brother. And, yeah, he’d done some stupid things in Kurt’s presence. There was really no one else to see them besides his asshole friends. And yeah, he’d even made some mistakes with Kurt himself. Like the thing three years ago, that time he tried to set him up with one of his girls (didn’t go too well once he figured out she was the stalking type), and (not the least of all) Bryce. And Kurt forgave him because he was his brother and he was human and he was all he had. All he had and all he needed.
Even all he wanted. Because life would absolutely suck without him bitching. Caring enough to bitch.
But something was wrong now. These fights were doing funny things to them, breaking them into little pieces and putting them back together wrong. Because they weren’t the same; they didn’t see each other like they used to. Like a child screwing up a puzzle. That piece of sky where the rock should be. That corner with the sun switched with grassy green. Lee’s stupid grunts making him hurt a whole lot more than they should. His sharp eyes and rackety hair are stuck inside his eyelids like some sick joke. None of the pieces are right. It’s not a pretty picture.
His door creaks and he hears Lee pad across the floor shoeless. Part of him knew this was coming. Lee had a badass attitude, but when it came to Kurt he didn’t do the ‘let’s not talk about it’ thing. When it came to Kurt there was a different side to Lee. Kurt was the only one who saw it because he was the only one who wanted to.
Standing for a long moment, Lee seemed uninterested in getting any closer. Kurt turned over and greeted him with half-lidded eyes. “Whad’d’ya want?”
“We gotta figure this out.”
“Morning?”
“I won’t sleep and you know it.”
It was true. When something was really eating him whole Lee didn’t sleep. Kurt wondered if that’s why he started using in the first place.
“You wanna start or should I?” He mused aloud. Lee would start anyway. When things went wrong, he always did.
Deciding to be the bigger man Lee stepped closer and sat down on the far edge of the bed. He had green plaid boxers and an old grey shirt on. The Keith Moon shirt. Max’s shirt. He was digging for an ice-breaker and when he had one he threw it casually as though it hadn’t just saved his life. “Cool Ink.”
“Thanks.” He mumbled into his pillow and pretended not to watch his brothers face. But his eyes had long adjusted and he could see every detail from the tip of his nose to the dimples in his non-present smile.
“When’d you get it?”
“In New York.”
“When Max died.” The exhale was mutual and Lee started digging in. “You got it ‘cause of him.”
“I got it ‘cause I wanted to.” He sighed and gave him ‘the look of death’. “Sometimes it’s not about everything else.”
“But this is about something, right?” He was sure. There would be no questioning him. In the night he looked like some demi-god, not quite man and not quite spirit. The darkness suited him. “You... Kurt, I mean, seriously. This is... You do this. When things go wrong you do exactly this.”
“What’s ‘this’?” And he was eager to know, too. Lee psychoanalyzing him. This should be good.
“Like...” He struggled, looking away and then back. “When you were ten and you didn’t make the softball team so you started reading ahead in your science book.”
“What?” Brows furrowing, Kurt brushed the hair out of his eyes and sat up a little more. Where’d that even come from?
“Or like when that Jackie chick dumped you.” He was looking at the ceiling, counting the incident like it was one of an infinite number. “You got that bar through your ear and started working at that pizza place.”
“Yeah, okay...” He looked away again and his brother slid a little closer. “Maybe I’m just...”
“And now it’s Max and the tattoo.” Lee pulled the blanket up for a second to check it out again. “You do this ‘escape’ thing. When something happens you try to get over it by doing something else. Like you can’t deal.”
“I can deal.” He rolled over and pulled the blanket back over his eyes. “I’m dealing.”
“So what about Fallwell?” Lee cut that thought smoothly. “He your way of ‘dealing’?”
Squeezing his eyes shut he tried not to think about it. He was dealing. He was. Chuck had nothing to do with this. Lee was just bringing him in out of spite. “Go away.”
But he didn’t. He slid under the blanket and crossed his ankles like he intended to stay awhile. Kurt could feel skin and cotton and it took him a minute to remember this was his brother. But they were close and he was warm and he smelled like soap. It felt like home to him anyway.
He wasn’t expecting Lee to roll over and drop a hand to his ribs. First pinching, because what self-respecting big brother wouldn’t annoy his little brother to death in this situation? But once Kurt half-kicked him he laughed a little and rubbed the spot with his thumb. His body hummed electric just feeling it. And his stomach turned over when his fingers moved dead-center. Touching the place he knew was there. Making Kurt’s spine shudder and lungs empty again.
“Little Nosebleed...” He cursed over Chuck as he splayed his fingers along the damaged skin. “He ever ask about this?”
“No.” Kurt answered shortly. Awake now, hyper-aware. Barely-useful heart beating under the scar he’d earned three years prior. “He didn’t look at it.”
“Fucker...” His index tapped the bottom of it, sweeping below it to touch his stomach. “He ain’t worth screwin’.”
He felt himself nod. It was all he could do right then.
“You took half my life that day, Kurt.”
Closing his eyes, he knew he did. The look on his face as he came out of the bathroom... Like he’d seen the Grim Reaper instead of his brother laying on the floor in a cold sweat. 911 and a hospital bed three hours later he learned that he had experienced ‘severe coronary artery spasms’ which had lead to ‘a massive myocardial infarction’. In other words, the coke gave him a heart attack. On first use. Like a whole point-five percent of the coke-using population. It was one of the only things they didn’t talk about, argue over. Lee blamed himself from then on. Still did.
Kurt didn’t blame anybody. Because technically it was all Max’s fault for pushing the door open.
“I know.” Exhaling through his nose he tried to close his eyes and forget it all. Just forget it. “I only did it ‘cause I wanted to know what it was like...”
Because their father had gotten a promotion and their mother had gotten a raise, so they wouldn’t be seeing either of them around the house as much.
Because he was watching net porn the other day and he found himself looking at the guy more than the girl.
Because he didn’t know why his brother wasn’t talking to him anymore.
“And now you know.” Lee’s voice was firm but far from harsh. It was a long-overrun argument topic. Why should he start it up again? Kurt knew it all and leaned further into the warmth. He felt the sigh against his neck. Yeah, now he knew.
And a week later he turned sixteen.
And two weeks later he got out of the hospital and sat with Bryce and Max on the porch, jumping at his ‘I Like You’ and smiling shakily into his kiss.
“I’m gonna kill him.”
“Bryce?” He smiled a little. They were thinking along the same lines. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll think of something.”
The hand trailed over the scar and it made Kurt gulp for air. It was a queasy, disjointed feeling. Hating it at once, he turned over and leaned his nose into the crook of Lee’s neck. He really did smell like soap. It warmed him inside out.
“I told him to watch out for you.” Lee’s face was sad, a little guilty. “I didn’t know he would...”
“It wasn’t like that, Lee.” Nose to his neck, he knelt his head under his brothers chin and nestled their bodies together until they locked. He should’ve felt uncomfortable. He didn’t. “He made a move a week after the operation. Felt sorry for me or something.”
Lee snorted, tugging at his side of the blanket. “Nobody feels sorry for you, kid.” The way he said it made Kurt’s nerves tighten. “You got one-up on everybody.”
He laughed sourly against the gray cotton. “Quit talkin’ shit, Lee.”
“You’re smart, Kurt.” His hand reached up and patted the back of his head. “You got a head for science and shit. You’re goin’ places.”
“Gonna leave me all alone...” He heard it. Lee didn’t even have to say it. It was audible, hanging in the air as though it was already said. Another big white elephant in the room. Kurt had to make it disappear. He leaned up and placed a kiss on his chin, because yeah, he was a girly-fag. So what?
“Not goin’ anywhere without you.” Murmuring softly, he cuddled his brother like a giant pillow just like when they were little. “You’re blood. I love you too much.”
And when he said it, it sounded wrong. The same kind of wrong as those messed up puzzle pieces. It was just a twinge too deep and a second too sure. Just enough to make him doubt for a second, which kind of love did he mean? It wasn’t the same love anymore. Not when the angry color of his eyes made him boneless and drunk. That wasn’t the kind of love he had for his parents. But it wasn’t the kind of love he had with Bryce either. He wondered if this was what it was like, blending two kinds of heartache. It wasn’t too bad.
Not when Lee was holding him like that.
“Love you too, Kurt.”
That was when he kissed him. It wasn’t supposed to be anything. Just a family-type thing, lips on the edge of lips. But when they landed they stayed, then moved, then stopped again. Holding and pressing in another place too long for it to be that way anymore. Lee, the thick dunce, still didn’t get it. He was resting there, leaving his lips against Kurt’s for his own leisure as Kurt’s mind spun a mile a minute. But as he tried to move away Lee moved in, and maybe he wasn’t as stupid as Kurt thought.
Intimate was the only word. He couldn’t call it romantic, but he couldn’t call it awkward, and neither could he call it gross. It was just intimate. Close. Comfortable in ways he didn’t know kisses could be. But the second he thought about taking it further Lee pulled back. Eyes wide and dark as night. Half-above him like that, his skin was made of moon.
“Kurt, what-” He stopped a minute and watched Kurt’s face. Drowsily shocked, he looked him dead in the eye. This was serious and urgent and just as scary as the feeling of his heart stopping. “This is...”
“...Bad?” Kurt finished, dropping himself away. But Lee’s arm caught him and he found his old locked space hadn’t changed. It still felt warm and sweet and good. Better now, as Lee’s hand palmed against the tat and made the completely healed wound feel fresh again. Zing against his fingers, and burn into his palm.
Kurt didn’t wait for a ‘no’. His lips found his brothers and held them completely. First without much effort. Then, a complete push for something, anything to make him go off the same edge he had. When his lips opened he took a chance, twisting his neck and sliding his tongue inside, clacking it against teeth until he opened his mouth completely. And they were kissing.
Kissing, like lovers or secret sweethearts. Full of white fire and comforting warmth he never knew he needed. But now that he had it, it wasn’t any different from needing Lee. Second nature to him now.
Lee was half-on-top so he just pulled him in and let his hands wind into his gray cotton. When he pulled away for a second he looked down at Kurt like he was seeing pigs fly. But he kissed him again and scaled his fingers down his back timidly, like he wasn’t the same man. The Lee Scalp everyone else saw was always aggressive. Demanding. A ‘take-what-you-want’ kind of punk. This Lee was cautious. Sliding his hands away from the spots that made Kurt arch out of place, halting his touches completely whenever he gasped for air. Stopping when he should be moving, because Hell on Earth, this was just... scary. An amazing kind of scary.
He snapped back, brown curls falling around his face. “Kurt, no.” It was firm and flat out. But he didn’t buy it for a second.
“Please.” Begging through a gasp, he dug his fingers into the cotton and drowned himself in Lee’s eyes. “C’mon... Please, don’t do this to me...”
“I can’t.” It was just as strong, but his hands still pulled him closer. His half-hard erection touched his thigh. The cotton dragged together and Lee hissed. “Kurt, you’re... You’re my baby brother. I can’t have you this way.”
“I want you to.” His voice was hoarse, cracking, and all he could think was If I lose Lee like this I’m going to kill myself... “God, Lee, tell me I’m not the only one feelin’ this.”
“We can’t do this.” But his hands were gripping his hips, fingers flaring around the tat. “I-... We’re not... We-”
“The way we were,” He breathed out, sliding one leg up to trap his brother against him. “It’s gone. It’s been gone. We’re not just brothers anymore.”
“We’re- Kurt!” Surprising both his brother and himself, Kurt rocked his own hardness against Lee’s and squeezed his eyes shut at the sensation breathing heavily against his neck. “What the Hell happened to you?” He gripped his hips and stilled them far too close to his own. Big mistake on his part.
“When I saw Bryce sucking you off,” He rocked again, Lee made a grunt like the wind had just been knocked out of him. “I thought I was gonna just...” His fingers spidered a trail down his side and found purchase on his thigh. “I couldn’t touch him after seeing him with you.”
Lee’s breath hitched and he felt it, thumbing over the web of skin between his brother’s thigh and the place the world said he shouldn’t touch. He was hard now, eyes wide and uncertain. But whenever Kurt made a move to touch he arched towards him. And Kurt had no idea what made them switch brains all of a sudden, but right then he was feeling very badass and he had to let Lee know.
“How-” He cut himself off, gasping for air as he pressed them together again. “Would you feel if I- Ah!” Lee’s fingers spazzed around the ink and he moved to meet him in the middle, biting his lip and looking completely terrified. “If y-you caught me...” A shaky breath. “Like this...” Another. “With Chuck?”
His body stiffened and he gripped Kurt hard enough to leave bruises, stilling everything for a second and a half. “He’d never make it out of the house alive.”
“How would you feel...” He whispered it in his ear and started a slow friction with the cotton they still wore. “If I told you...” Lee cursed and met his hips steady. “His mouth...” A low growl from Lee and a sweet burning feeling between them. “Rocked me solid...”
“Fuck!” Lee hissed it loud and half-angry, pushing him down and stilling his hips. “I get it, alright?! I wanna break his neck every time you say his name and- Jesus, Kurt! This ain’t right! I wanna...” His voice softened, hand skimming down the younger Scalp’s arm and landing on his chest. “God, I wanna do this... But it’s too fuckin’ wrong...”
“I’m your brother. I love you.” Kurt said it slow and firm just to see Lee nod. “Okay?”
“Okay.” His voice was half-relieved.
“And I want you...” Reaching up, he wound his fingers through Lee’s dark curls and pulled him close just to kiss him. Light. Affectionate. Then hard and deep like nothing either of them had ever known before. Just with each other. Everything was hard with the Scalp brothers. Everything got too deep to handle. The kiss just proved it. So when Kurt pulled back and saw Lee’s eyes so wide and dark, he smiled and pulled him down all the way, until he was comfortably trapped under him. The only place he ever wanted to be.
“I want you to need me.”
The feeling that shot through him then was unexpected. Unexpected and unbelievable. Lee’s smile came back and stayed, even as Kurt’s fingers wound through the holes Max had chewed in that Keith Moon shirt and pulled it off. Even as he pushed Kurt into the mattress and kissed him so hard he got dizzy. Even when he was panting his name, trying to hold on a few more seconds and failing when his little brother proved he could make him come three times in an hour. And Kurt learned that Lee beat Fallwell to Hell when it came to the mouth.
“You look good.” He looked him up and down, bug-eyes taking in everything. “How you been?”
“Okay.” He tried to get away, pushing his cart past the fruit and heading for the aisles. Sweeney stopped him, grabbing his arm and holding it.
“Got a mark the size of Texas on the back of your neck.” Leering, he stepped a little closer and smiled sweetly. “Found somebody?”
“Yeah.”
That night he told Lee all about it. He laughed so hard it hurt, but the second he was sure their parents were asleep he licked and nipped every inch of his body, starting and finishing with the ink.
