"Well, Luke, I think we'll just come and pick you up, and you can come live with us until you get another job. You know, Luke, Brody's had several summer job offers already, you could too if you considered what we showed you about the business program."
"No, Auntie," said Luke firmly. "I don't want to get into this again."
There was a long pause as Marabeth sighed, and Luke could tell she was chewing her lip in that way that she did when she was thinking of the best way to control people. "Well, when can we pick you up?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You're moving home now, right?"
"What do you mean,
home
?" Luke was panicking a little now, but it was a good thing, it was helping him to keep from breaking. His whole body was shaking, and he could feel his face heating up. Cooper's drawing hand had stopped moving, and he looked up at Luke warily.
"You know what I mean, Luke. You know your grandmother would want you living with us."
Luke's outrage flared up higher, tinged with guilt. "She's not
dead
, Auntie."
"Oh, Luke, of course not, don't be morbid. It
is
what she wants."
"Why?" asked Luke petulantly. "Did she say so?"
Marabeth gave a clipped sigh. "Do you really think she'd want you living with some strange man, Luke?"
He hated the way she said "strange man," as if it was the worst thing anyone could be. What was worse, he knew exactly what she meant by "strange." He felt defensive of Cooper, in a way that he wouldn't normally be, he was desperate to protect anyone from his aunts' scrutiny and judgement. "I think she'd think I could take care of myself—" he began.
"Luke," Marabeth's voice was getting short, as if she were impatient to end the conversation. "I don't like your tone, I think you'd better let me know where you are right now, and we'll come by with the van and get you."
"No, Auntie."
"I beg your pardon, Luke?"
"I said no."
Cooper had stopped drawing and was staring at him intently now. Luke took a deep breath. "I'm fine here. You don't need to worry about me."
"Well, I'm sorry, Luke, but that's what family does. We worry. Now, you are going to tell me where you are right now, and we're going to talk about this in person."
Luke shook his head. "No, I'm not."
"Excuse me? Yes, you are, Luke I'm not hanging up until you do."
"Okay." Luke took a deep, shaky breath. "I guess I'll talk to you later, then."
He jammed the end call button and slammed the phone down on the table, burying his head in his hands. He felt like crying, or like going back to sleep for a week.
"What was that about?" asked Cooper.
"She wants to come get me," he said through his hands. "Told me she wasn't gonna hang up until I told her where I was."
"What the hell?" said Cooper, sounding as outraged as Luke knew he should be, if he weren't used to this kind of thing. "How old does she think you are?"
"I don't know." Luke sighed, allowing himself to relax a bit. "She's just—"
The phone rang again. Luke's heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He felt faint.
Cooper snatched it up from the table. "Hello?" His voice was sharp. "Yes, this is him. He's not available, sorry."
He hung up and set the phone back down. Luke stared at it, trembling.
It rang again.
"Fuck's sake." Cooper threw the sketchbook down on the table and stalked into the dining room to unplug the phone jack from the wall. Luke watched him wearily. Cooper gave a sigh of relief as the ringing ceased, and the look he gave Luke was a mishmash of amusement, pity, and disbelief. "You're shaking again. I'm making you breakfast."
Luke nodded and lowered his head back into his hands. When he finally managed to contain his shaking, he reached for the coffee and drank it slowly, staring into the distance. It was difficult to feel anything, he was still so much in shock. He noticed the sketchbook that was still on the coffee table where Cooper had thrown it and picked it up to examine his sketch, distracting himself. He'd been a bit annoyed at Cooper for assuming it was okay to look and draw in it, but he couldn't muster up the energy for any actual outrage. Anyway, Cooper had drawn something nice.
"What is this?" he asked, squinting at the strange, cartoonish design. The lines were clean and smooth, deceptively simple. The subject was a stylized dagger piercing a bleeding heart. It was vaguely familiar.
"Sailor Jerry," replied Cooper. "Traditional tattoo art. See?" He took a break from cutting up fruit to display the backs of his hands, both adorned with similar designs. "You okay?"
"Yeah," said Luke, "I'll be fine." He sat back, staring down at the picture. "I didn't know you could draw."
Cooper gave a chuckle. "You're better than me."
"Do you, you know, do tattoos?"
"Yeah, I used to," replied Cooper lightly.
Ah. That made sense, so that must be what Cooper "wasn't doing anymore". Luke felt relief and then more confusion. He wanted to ask why, but he wasn't entirely sure Cooper would give him a straight answer.
"Hey," said Cooper, "if you could get a tattoo, what would you get?"
"Ha!" Luke couldn't help but laugh at the thought. He'd never even considered it before. "I dunno, 'freedom?'"
Cooper laughed. "Makes sense. Might be a nice chest piece."
"Yeah, I'm not getting one. Some chick died from a tattoo a while back, remember?"
Cooper started up the blender. "Yeah," he yelled over the noise, "I guess you've got a point."
*~*~*
Cooper made Luke a full breakfast—eggs, toast, and a fruit smoothie. Luke realised how hungry he was the moment he took a bite, and he proceeded to gobble the entire meal down with shaky hands. Cooper made himself a protein smoothie and sat across from Luke, grinning at him.
"So, that was dramatic," he said. "Your family always like that?"
"Yeah," Luke sighed. "I'm usually better at handling it, though. I shouldn't have hung up on her like that."
"Well," Cooper leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his smoothie. "Guess I shouldn't be keeping you here against your will either, eh?"
"Against her will, you mean."
Cooper shrugged. "I'm just saying I can see her point of view. I'm a creepy asshole."
Luke wasn't sure about that. Cooper hadn't actually done anything to Luke, but didn't the fact that he had
wanted
to still make him a bit of a creepy asshole? "I don't care," he said honestly. "That's better than my aunts."
"Well, sure, I mean, your aunts don't walk around with their shirts off, do they?"
"What? Ew, no, why?"
"Because I do." Cooper grinned and pulled his T-shirt over his head. "Yeah, that's right, look away. Don't get turned on."
Luke blanched, that familiar tingling at the pit of his stomach setting in. "Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"You know what." He
was
looking away. Of course he was. It was rude not to.
"My house, my rules." Cooper stood and snatched the remote up. He plopped himself down beside Luke and turned the TV on. "Fuck yeah,
Top Model
. I love Tyra Banks. Tyra Banks is a
boss
."
*~*~*
It was a relief to finally get to school on Monday. Cooper hadn't let up all day, continuing to wander around in various states of undress and sitting uncomfortably close to Luke. A small part of Luke liked all the attention Cooper was giving him, but most of him was exhausted by having to constantly look away from Cooper's body and force down his reaction. Plus, Cooper liked the TV loud, so it was a relief to get up early and head to school where he was able to finish his art history project in merciful silence. After that was three hours of Art History class, which Luke was only able to get through with the knowledge that afterwards he could spend several hours in the studio, lost in the trance of painting.
Luke hadn't realised how late it was until he left the bright white lights of the studio and stepped out into twilight. He'd finished the first of his paintings and had gotten started on the second. That warm feeling of pride that he got upon finishing a piece was swelling in his stomach, making it difficult to focus on the dread that he felt over going back to Cooper's house. Anyway, if he had to be honest, dread was just one of the many feelings he had about seeing Cooper, along with excitement and guilty pleasure. Maybe he would be shirtless again. Luke had been attempting to avoid looking at him, but it was difficult not to stare when there was so much to look at. Cooper had a roaring cartoonish tiger head on his stomach and a Chinese dragon curling around his collarbone. Luke was most interested in the tattoos that dipped low over his hips, however, and he had found himself wondering several times what they were, and what the rest of Cooper's body looked like.
*~*~*
Cooper was wearing a shirt when Luke got home. Unfortunately it was one of his gross sleeveless ones. He was lying slumped on the couch with a haze of cigarette smoke around him. Luke recognised the silver flask on the table in front of him.
"Cooper?"
Cooper lolled his head around and grinned sloppily at Luke. "Hey, Luke!" he slurred. He stared into the space beside Luke's head for several seconds and then returned his gaze to Luke. "I'm drunk," he announced.
"Yeah, I can see that," snapped Luke, annoyed by the fact that as much as he wanted to get away from Cooper, there was really nowhere to stomp off to. The smoke was catching in the back of his throat and making him ill.
"Listen, listen, something happened to me today," said Cooper. He was staring away from Luke now, at the blank TV screen. "Okay, so I was driving home, right? An' there was this siren, like a ... like an ambulance, so I pulled over because I ... am ... a conscientious ... citizen." He reached forward for the flask and gulped some more down. "So after it went by I thought, hey, I'm a ... I'm a spontaneous kinda guy, I'll just ... I'll just follow it ..."
"You followed the ambulance," prompted Luke after a pause, not sure why he was humouring Cooper.
Cooper started. "Yeah," he said, his voice more slurred than ever. "And it was going to this house, so I jus' ... I parked across the street, right? An' I watched, and they went in, like, Luke, it was just like on those TV shows." He lolled his head. Luke could feel his eyes widening. "Anyway, they came out with this guy on a stretcher, an' like, I knew he was dead, right, because they didn't turn the lights on the, you know—
deewoo!
" He swirled his finger around his head. "You know, that thing. Anyway, it was ... like his kids were there, and his wife and shit, like all crying." He sniffed, and rubbed his nose on his hand. "Yeah." He stared off into the distance again. "Yeah, lucky bastard."
"
Lucky
?" gasped Luke, wondering if Cooper knew what he was saying.
"Yeah!" Cooper lurched up from the couch. "Yeah, he was a lucky bastard, Luke, don' you tell me that he wasn't a lucky bastard." He stumbled towards Luke, who backed away warily. "Oh, don't be a shit, I'm not gonna
touch
you, I'm not ..." He stared at Luke, trying unsuccessfully to focus his eyes. "I'm not gonna touch you," he said again in a quiet voice. He seemed to collapse in on himself, his eyes glazing over. "I'm goin' to bed."
He stumbled past Luke and slammed the bedroom door. There was a loud crash as Cooper fell onto the bed, and then silence. Luke stared at the door for a moment and then, coughing, went and pushed the window open as far as it would go. He lifted himself on his toes, breathing in the fresh night air. He felt as if he had just witnessed something very private. Cooper obviously had problems. But then again, so did Luke.
He was a bit surprised to find that he wasn't really afraid of Cooper anymore. Maybe a little disgusted, yes, but Cooper had had the chance to overpower him plenty by now, and he hadn't done it. The frightening thing about Cooper wasn't his size, or his looks, or even his demeanour. It was that he was making Luke care, and Luke wasn't sure he wanted to get involved, not when Cooper's problems seemed to run so very deep.
Also, Luke had to admit, he had always been more afraid of himself than Cooper. He wondered why his feelings terrified him so much, who they were really hurting, and then shoved the thought to the back of his head. Doubt was pulling him in every direction, and it was nearly overwhelming.
Hungry, Luke wandered into the kitchen and noticed a note on the counter in Cooper's elegant, scrawling handwriting.
Luke, I'm getting drunk, but you can heat up the lasagna in the fridge. Sorry if drunk me comes onto you.
What about 'Sorry if drunk me confesses a death wish to you?' What then?
Luke sighed and went to heat up the lasagna, his stomach growling.
*~*~*
Cooper was making breakfast when Luke woke up the next morning.
"Don't you have work?" asked Luke. Cooper had been gone already when Luke had woken up yesterday.
Cooper was sauntering around the kitchen, looking relaxed and not at all hungover. "Yeah well, I got a last minute call from one of my freelance jobs, so I'm doing that today instead. Hey, uh ..." he paused for a moment, glancing out the kitchen window. "Sorry about last night."
"It's fine," Luke muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "You're allowed to get drunk, it's your house."
"Still," said Cooper, back to working on breakfast. "I'm gonna make it up to you."
Luke felt apprehension setting in. "How?"
"You'll see." Cooper presented Luke with his breakfast, grinning. "Omelet and coffee. Hey, you never complain about anything I make you. What kind of food do you like?"
"Oh," Luke shrugged. "All food. My grandparents were strict, it was kind of like 'eat this or don't eat at all.
'
"
"Ha, that's my mom too," laughed Cooper. "Mind you, I'd eat anything anyway."
"Yeah, I can tell," replied Luke, nodding at Cooper's size. He was wearing another tight T-shirt, this one black with white designs. It was pulled tight across his pectorals. Too tight. Luke could see his nipples straining against the fabric. "That shirt's too small for you." He turned away quickly to focus on his omelet. Cooper just laughed.