times have you talked to Jonah?”
He maintained his grip on my arm. His eyes were hard. “Bear, its not
what you think,” he told me, his voice flat. “Whatever it is thats running
through your head right now, you need to stop.”
“Why cant you answer the question?” I suddenly shouted at him. I saw him recoil, but he didnt let go of my arm. “How many times! Why the hell
are you talking to him?”
“I talk to him every now and then,” Otter said, and I could tell he was
trying to keep his voice level. “Its never about anything important, Bear. I
told you before. I cant just knock someone out of my life like that. Its not
who I am.”
I continued to glare at him, and then there were two Otters and then four
Otters, and I felt the bitter sting of angry tears as they welled in my eyes. He
saw them, too, and his face softened, and his grip relaxed on my arm. “Did
you tell him about me?” I asked, willing the water in my eyes to go away. It
didnt. “Did you tell him about us?”
Of all the questions I could have asked, I knew this one pained him the
most. Before he spoke I knew the answer and shook my arm loose from his
hand. I turned away from him and put my forehead up against the glass of
the patio door, and it was cool and hard. One of the angry tears defied me
and slipped from my eye and landed on my cheek and tracked its way down. “What do you talk to him about?” I asked. “Whats so goddamn
important that you need to talk to him?”
I heard Otter exhale noisily behind me, but it came from where he stood
before. It meant that he was not trying to come over to me. Good. “I told you, Bear, I cant just cut—”
“Thats not what I asked!
What do you talk about
?”
“It doesnt matter, Bear,” he said dully. “Apparently you wouldnt
believe me regardless, seeing as how youve already made up your mind.
Since when did you stop trusting me?”
I whirled on him. “Since when did you decide to not tell me about
secret
phone calls with your ex-boyfriend?” I snapped at him.
“Ive never given you a reason not to trust me.”
“Until
now
,” I spat at him. “You
lied
to me.” Somewhere inside of me,
the voice was screaming to just hear him out, to calm down and let him say
what he needed to. I shoved it away.
Otter looked at me then, and I knew I had wounded him. “Bear,” he said
quietly, “what do you think could possibly be going on? Hes in California.
Im here. With you. Thats not going to change.”
“Then why do you need to talk to him in the first place?” I raged at him.
“What does he give you that I cant?”
And there we have it, boys and girls, the big question, the thought that was playing in the back of my head. I figured the only reason Otter would be talking to stupid fucking
Jonah
(what kind of a name is that, anyway?) was because he was getting something from him that he couldnt get from me. What, you ask, could that possibly be? I had no fucking clue, but it was
what I latched onto, it was the fear that I was afraid of the most. Otter shook his head. “I cant believe that you would think… Bear, I
love you. Do you really believe I would say that and do something to
jeopardize it?”
“
You’re not
…
answering
…
the question
,” I hissed at him. His eyes went hard again, and I saw a tic along his jaw line. “Fine!” he
shouted at me, his anger boiling over. “You want to know what we talk
about? You want to know so bad, Bear? You want to know what Ive been
doing for him?”
Suddenly, I didnt want to know. Not because of what he said, but
because Id never seen Otter like that before. But it was too late. “Every time he calls me,
every goddamn time
, I answer the phone. I
know what Im walking into when I do it, but I fucking pick it up anyways.
And you know what he says, Bear? Every time he calls me, its to berate
me, its to wound me, its to cut me down. I get on the phone, and he yells at
me and screams at me and hates me, and I let him. You want to know why?
I do it because I think its the only way hell get over it. I think if I let him
slice me with his words, hell finally give up one day. I do it because
regardless of what we had, regardless what I have now, hes still my friend.
And friends dont just fucking quit on each other, just because things get
hard. So yes, I talk to him, and yes, it hurts every time I do, but not because
Im in love with him, or because Im harboring some secret desire to get
back together with him. It hurts because I made him like that. I made him an
angry person, and so I think the only thing I can do is let him take out his
goddamn anger on me. I deserve it, dont I?
Don’t I
? I know it sounds
ridiculous. Believe me, I know that every time my phone rings, and I see
that its him. I dont want to answer it, but I have to because its
my fault he
is the way he is
.”
I tried to interrupt, to stop this thing that Id started, but he glared at me
as I opened my mouth, and it shut on its own.
“So I let him say whatever the hell he wants until he feels better, and
then he goes away. I couldve stopped this a long time ago, Bear, I know it.
But you want to know what he told me? What he said to make me do this
every time he calls? He said that he wanted to come here. That he wanted to
come to Seafare so we could talk face to face. Yes, I want him to be happy. I
want to try and be his friend, but I do it because I dont want him to come here. If he comes here, hell see you, and I dont want that to happen.
But not in the way you’re thinking
.” He took in a ragged breath, and I wanted him to stop. I wanted him to stop so bad. I couldnt deal with his anger anymore, that acidic feeling it caused in my heart and stomach. But he
wasnt finished.
“I dont want him to come here and see you because Im afraid that hell
scare you away from me. I would do everything in my power to make sure
that never happened, but I
am
scared, Bear. Im scared that you would take
one look at him and that this would happen, whats happening right now.
The look on your face, the way youre standing, ready to swing at me. I
should have known that he wouldnt even need to be here to drive you away.
And for that, Im sorry. I love you too goddamn much to show you my past,
because I dont want to remember a time without you in it. Those three
years I spent away, with
him
, were nothing compared to what I have now.
But I need you to trust me, Bear. I would never do anything to intentionally
hurt you. Im sorry if it feels that way.” He went quiet then, tears in his eyes,
his gaze directed at the ground. He then moved toward the doorway and was
opening the patio door when I grabbed his arm.
“Where are you going?” I whispered hoarsely, flinging his words back
at him. “Were you just going to leave?”
“Bear,” he said, his voice strained in warning.
“No, Otter,” I said, shaking my head. “Its my turn to talk. Look at me.
Look at me!” He did. “I dont care what you think or why you do it, but I
dont want you talking to him again.” He started to interrupt, but I cut him
off. “Not because Im jealous or because Im worried that hell take you
away from me, but because of you. Because of what hes doing to
you
. No
one should ever have to deal with that. I dont care if you think you made
him like that or if you think that he needs this to get over you. You need to
stop thinking you make people into
anything
they dont want to be. Hes
angry
, Otter. Hes pissed the hell off, and if you keep talking to him, its
only going to continue like that forever. I wont allow that.” My voice
dropped down into a growl. “No one will
ever
talk to you like that, not while
Im around.” His eyes flashed at this, and I saw a smile tugging at the
corners of his mouth. “Youre
mine
, you hear me?
Mine.
I swear to Christ if
he as much as thinks about coming here, or calling to mess with you again,
then he will have to answer to me. Do you understand? Do you understand
me, Otter? I fucking
love
you, and no one will ever do that to you again.” I felt hot and sweaty, and his eyes flashed again, and the grin was there,
angry and proud, and it was
mine.
It was for
me.
He jumped at me, and I
caught him in my arms and crushed him into me, and he cried. He cried into me like I had done into him time and time again, and I rocked him, I swayed
him, I whispered to him, “Mine, youre mine,” and he let it all out. By the time he was done, we were both trembling, we were both
quaking. My gorge tossed and turned, and I pulled him tighter into me.
When finally his sobs subsided, he pulled back and kissed me. I felt his
swollen face press against mine, and the ferocity of his kiss made me start to
shake again as he pressed me up against the glass, and suddenly we both had
too much clothing on, and then it was gone, and we rocked together, and he
bit my shoulder as I sucked on his neck, and as I threw my head back and
arched into him, I heard him groaning, “Mine, mine, mine,” and I picked it
up, and it became a chant until we were both growling and spitting and our
cocks were in his hand, and we came at the same time, and I swear to God,
the concrete shook and rolled and finally cracked beneath us.
Mine.
He snorts and gently nips my stomach, making me squirm. “Keep telling yourself that,” he says. “All I know is, anytime any part of my mouth is on any part of your body, you make the face.” He shows me it again, rolling his eyes back in his head and opening his mouth, tongue hanging out as he pants. I laugh and smack him upside the head with a pillow.
“Whatever,” I say, grinning at him. “If you think I do that because its a good thing, youre wrong. Thats my bored face. I wish you could do this whole sex thing better. Jesus Christ, Otter, youre the
gay
one here; I would think you would know how to please another guy.”
His eyes sparkle mischievously, and he lowers his lips down to my stomach again, and I think he is going to lick in that one place, and I prepare myself to not make the face (the face being, of course, the slack-jawed, pinnacle of ecstasy that he sends me shooting to) when he presses his lips against my stomach and blows as hard as he can. The farting noise rips through the room, and all my senses explode at once, and before I can stop myself, I shriek like a girl and try to bat him off of me. His arms wrap around me as he holds me down, and I can feel him grinning into my torso as he does it again. Bastard.
Finally he rolls off of me and lies on his back, throwing an arm over his eyes as he sighs contentedly. That lopsided grin that Ive come to yearn for adorns his face. As I stare down at him, Creeds words from weeks before come into my head:
That guy wears his heart on his sleeve.
He couldnt have been more right about that. When Otters upset or down, you can see it in his eyes. When hes happy, its like being on the fucking moon. And when that happiness is directed toward me… well, lets just say I know that Im going to be making the face at some point in the near future. I chuckle softly to myself.
Otter raises his forearm off his face and raises an eyebrow at me. I shake my head and move to my place on his shoulder. He grunts appreciatively and wraps his arms around me and pulls me in closer.
“Thats bullshit, you know,” he says, his voice muffled against my hair.
“Youve made that face for damn near three months now. You did it the first time, and youve done it since. I
know
what Im doing.”
I roll my eyes and decide to concede. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fine, big man. You win this one.” I pinch his nipple gently, and he hisses softly and arches into it. “You give mean head.”
“Damn right I do,” he grumbles, clasping my hand against his chest.
We lay there for a while longer, not speaking, the late-morning August sun pouring in through the window.
Nearly three months
, I think, amused.
Has it really been that long already?
I chide myself playfully, knowing I sound like a thirteen-year-old in his first relationship. These three months have been three months longer than I thought anything like this would last. Since our huge blowup in his backyard, Otter and I have fallen into a wonderful understanding, an understanding that is allowing both us to look tentatively to the future. Ive started looking into what it will take for me to get back into school. A few weeks ago, Otter picked up his camera again and started taking pictures. He even went out and bought the Kid a camera of his own, and those two have been going at it like fiends. The Kid is actually pretty good, much to Otters chagrin.
Its funny to me, looking back where I was a year ago, compared to where I am now. Everything has changed, almost all of it for the better. For the first time in a very long time, Im content with not knowing what tomorrow could bring. Granted, I still have the worries that come with being a twentysomething brother/parent, and the questions about who I really am, but those dont seem to be as big a deal as they used to be. It has gotten me thinking lately, that if things can be this good, that if I can be this happy, then why should I have to hide this anymore? Why should this have to be a secret from those that love me most? Thats why Ive made the decision I have, the decision I have yet to tell Otter. Well, no time like the present.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey, yourself,” Otter says back.
“I want to tell Creed.” His hand, which up until a second ago had been playing lazily with my hair, freezes. I feel his chest rise as he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Otter then rolls on his side, laying me gently on the pillow next to him. He puts his forehead against mine and gazes into my eyes, searching for any validity to what Ive just said. I grin shyly at him, and he smiles back, and I can feel his warm breath upon my face.
“You sure?” he asks, his eyes hoping.
I nod slowly. “Ive been thinking about it for a while now. I told myself I needed to tell him about us before he leaves. The party hes throwing is what… nine days away? And he leaves two days after that?” Otter nods. “So that gives me just under two weeks to be able to get my nerve up.”
Otters hand comes up and strokes my cheek softly. “You sure you want to do this, Bear? You know Im not forcing you to do this, right? I want this to be your decision, and I would support you either way.”
“I know,” I tell him, and I do. Otter has been true to his word. And it makes me feel better to know that he realizes that its not just necessarily about us, that its primarily about me. Yes, Otters my boyfriend and Creeds older brother, but Creed is going to have to be faced with the fact that his best friend just happens to like dick. And not just any dick, but the dick belonging to his brother. This conversation could go in so many different directions that Ive found it easier to try and not think about that part.
Otter grins his grin and kisses me on the lips. “Bear McKenna, youve just made my day.”
I smirk at him. “I thought I made your day when I let you fuck me for the last two hours.”
His grin becomes evil, and he rolls back on top of me, deepening his kisses as he rubs his body up and down mine. His lips leave mine, and he kisses my jaw up to my ear, and then his tongue does this little swirl thing, and my toes curl and I groan softly. He chuckles into my ear and does it again. Then his tongue is gone, replaced by his lips that whisper, “God, I hope you know how much I love you.”
“I do,” I gasp as he kisses down my neck.
Much to my annoyance, he stops his trek and stares down at me. “Do you want me to be there when you tell him?”
I think for a moment and then shake my head. “I think it would be better if it were just him and me. I dont know how well this is going to go, and I dont need you there, threatening to kick his ass if he reacts badly.”
“Id murder him if he said anything stupid,” Otter agrees. “But I really dont think hes going to care all that much. It may very well be the only thing hes pissed off about is not finding this out earlier.”
I nod. “Ive thought of that, and if Im lucky, thats the only thing hell be mad at me for. Thats the only thing that would justify any anger. I still cant help but feel like Im going to be walking into a lions den with this.”
Otter kisses my forehead. “You dont worry about a thing. God forbid if it shouldnt go well, but just remember that he is going to be going back to school in a couple weeks. If he is truly upset about all this, at least you two will have space to be able to work that out. Its probably best that you waited to tell him until now.”
“Yeah?” I ask. “I thought so too. As a matter of fact”—I glance over at the clock on the nightstand—“where is he right now?”
Otters eyes widen slightly. “Now? You want to do it now?”
I shrug. “Might as well, before I chicken out.”
“He said he was going out with someone for lunch and would be back later.”
“Who has he been seeing lately? Do you know?” I ask Otter. Ever since the day when Creed had told me about Jonah and Otter, he had been taking off at random times, saying he was going out or hanging out with friends or going to do something. He never elaborated, never explained himself. When asked, he would grin and change the subject. Creed had never been one to keep secrets, so it was a little disconcerting to me that it seemed that we were both doing it.
Otter shakes his head. “I dont know. He never brings it up to me. I think hes started dating someone here, but Ive never seen anyone come around here or heard him talking to anyone on the phone.”
“This whole thing would be easier for me if he was seeing a guy,” I tell Otter, who laughs. “That way, he cant get pissed off at me for keeping this from him.”
“I highly doubt my little brother is getting done in the ass by some dude,” Otter says, and we both shudder at the thought. That would just be… gross.
“Did he say what time he was going to be back?”
“He said sometime tonight. Do I need to make myself scarce or something?”
I batten down my resolve. Its either now or never. “Could you?” I ask Otter. “If he gets back in time, maybe you can just go to my house and relieve Mrs. Paquinn of her Kid-watching duties for me. I told her I would be back by seven at the latest.”
“Thatll work. But you better call me if you need anything. I swear to God, Bear, if Creed starts being stupid, you better let me know.”
I bat my eyes at him. “Why, so you can come rescue me?”
He kisses me again. “Yeah, and so I can shove my foot up his ass.”
I laugh. “My hero,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him back down on top of me.
“Shower?” he says hopefully into my neck. Otter has this weird (and oh so hot) thing about doing it in the shower.
“Shower,” I say happily. I shout as he picks me up with one arm and throws me over his shoulder. Its okay, though. I have a great view of his ass.
Maybe this whole Creed thing wont be as bad as I think.