by Jay Bell
When he returned to the kitchen, Gramps was there, listening intently to his wife’s hushed words. When he turned around, his features showed pure concern. Then he opened his arms, as if expecting a hug. Nathaniel ignored him, tossing the photo on the table but not watching where it landed. Instead he examined their faces closely, his grandmother’s in particular as she turned it over. Her eyes widened enough to know he was right—that Caesar had been correct. This man was his father.
“What’s his name?” Nathaniel demanded.
His grandfather, arms at his side now, gave him the answer. “Victor Hemingway.”
“And where is he now?”
“Joe,” his grandma said, her tones concerned. But why?
“Does he live in Warrensburg?” Nathaniel asked.
Gramps shook his head. “No.”
“Where is he then?”
“You’ll have to ask your mother about that.” His grandfather gestured at a chair, but Nathaniel was too on edge to sit. “We’re not trying to be difficult. We’re respecting Star’s wishes. I hope you understand. She was awfully young when she had you, and this other fellow wasn’t ready to be a father. Your mother wasn’t ready to raise a child either. Not on her own. We helped until she met Heath.”
Nathaniel strained, trying to find any memory, no matter how foggy, to support this story. He couldn’t remember a time when his father—or at least Heath—hadn’t been around. Then again, Nathaniel did have fond memories of being at his grandparents’ house. More than normal perhaps, and in most of those memories, he had been their sole focus. King for a day. For many days. He hadn’t shared the spotlight with his brother. Not back then. That had come later. Speaking of which…
“Dwight,” he said.
“Heath’s boy,” Gramps said. “I don’t know much about his mother.”
“But he has a different mom,” Nathaniel said, mind racing. “And a different dad. That means he’s not my brother!” The realization summoned a manic smile, but also a sinking sensation. It took him a moment to recognize why.
While his grandfather gave him a pep talk on what constituted a family bond, Nathaniel searched his heart until he understood. All he had suffered through, all the abuse he had taken, had been at the hands of a stranger. Not his brother, but some other kid Nathaniel was forced to live with. Why? The reason was simple. His mother had chosen the wrong person to fall in love with. If she had walked away the first time Heath hurt her, she would have spared them both so much pain. Or at the very least, had she been honest with him about his true father, Nathaniel would have had somewhere else to go. Another home, one where he was safe.
“I want to see him.” The words cut off his grandfather’s lecture, but he didn’t care. Nathaniel’s need was too strong. “Right now.”
“We don’t know where to find him,” Gramps said. “That’s the honest truth.”
“Why didn’t she stay with him? With Victor?” Nathaniel’s voice cracked. “Why’d she have to choose Heath? Victor couldn’t have been worse. Believe me.”
His grandparents looked concerned, but he stopped caring what they thought when they gave him the same old answer.
“You’ll have to talk to your mother about—”
“Fine!” Nathaniel said, turning away. “Then I’ll go ask her.”
He swept from the room, pausing briefly in the hallway to wipe at his eyes. He clenched his jaw a few times, summoning up anger again so he wouldn’t be weak. When he barged into the bedroom, Caesar was sitting on the bed, his legs pulled up to his chin.
“Pack your things,” Nathaniel said. “We’re going home.”
Caesar’s eyes went wide. “Is this because I… Did I mess up?”
“This has nothing to do with you,” Nathaniel insisted, grabbing his backpack and shoving yesterday’s outfit into it. “Hurry up!”
Caesar had just hopped out of bed when there was a knock. Gramps was standing in the doorway. He gestured for Nathaniel to join him in the hallway. Nathaniel knew what was coming, but he followed on the off chance that he was wrong.
“Heading home?” Joe asked.
Nathaniel nodded, “Yeah.”
“It’s a twelve-hour drive. Don’t you think it’s too late to start?”
“Not that long,” Nathaniel replied. “I drive fast.”
“Even if you don’t take breaks and you manage not to get pulled over, you’ll be lucky to reach Houston by three in the morning.”
He shrugged. “I’ve stayed up later than that. I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will, but your grandmother doesn’t. She’ll be worried. You might be used to staying up late, but she’s not and won’t get a wink of sleep until you’re home. God forbid anything happens to you! She’ll only blame herself. She’s already sick with guilt, so I’m not asking you to stay for your own benefit, or even for mine. But if you respect that woman, you’ll stay and show her you’re okay. And that you don’t blame her.”
“I don’t,” Nathaniel mumbled.
“I know, but she needs more than just words to reassure her. One night won’t make a difference. I’ll even wake you tomorrow so you can get an early start. Deal?”
Nathaniel took a deep breath. Then he exhaled and nodded.
“That’s my boy.”
Gramps opened his arms for a hug again, and this time there was no getting around it. Nathaniel stepped forward, holding back tears as his grandfather squeezed him affectionately, which was weird because this was good news, right? He despised Dwight and had all but disowned the man he had once considered his father. Now he had discovered that he wasn’t related to either. And yet, a strange sense of loss hung over him.
Gramps patted him on the back a few times before ending the embrace. “Now go be a good host to your friend. He looked scared out of his wits.”
Nathaniel composed himself. When he returned to the room, Caesar was indeed a little wide-eyed, like he didn’t know what mood to expect next. After staring at him dumbly, Caesar resumed rushing around the room, gathering his things.
“Forget it,” Nathaniel said. “We’re staying another night.”
“Oh.” Caesar opened his mouth, no doubt about to ask what was wrong, before he thought better and snapped his jaw shut.
Nathaniel felt a twinge of guilt. “Later,” he said. “I need to get things straight in my head. Then we can talk.”
Caesar nodded, occupying himself with unpacking. Nathaniel watched him work, wondering how he would explain a situation he barely understood. And couldn’t. Not completely. Not until he had the missing puzzle pieces.
* * * * *
They tried to pass the evening as if nothing had happened. With Caesar there, neither Nathaniel nor his grandparents felt comfortable discussing the topic openly. Probably for the best, since all Nathaniel had were questions, and all they had were secrets. Perhaps in an effort to cheer him up, they ordered a cheesy comedy from pay-per-view, but the movie failed to provoke an ounce of amusement in him.
Afterwards, his grandmother changed tactics, putting on old home videos instead. These were indisputable proof that Nathaniel had been a happy, giggling child, smashing his hands gleefully through his first birthday cake or looking pensive as he rode a pony, his father walking beside him to make sure he remained securely in the saddle. His father. Not Victor. And when the ride came to an end and little Nathaniel was lifted off the pony, his arms wrapped instinctively around that man’s neck. As a child, he’d had no doubt. Only one man was his father, and back then Heath had still been perfect. Or had seemed so to him.
As the home videos continued, he began to view them with suspicion. What else in this picture-perfect world was false? What other secrets did the colorful birthday banners or sunny days at the beach conspire to hide? Then he started searching the background of each scene, almost expecting to see a guy with a mohawk casually leaning against a tree, watching his son from a distance. But Victor wasn’t anywhere to be found.
When the evening ended, N
athaniel hugged his grandmother good night, pretending not to hear her ask if he was feeling better. Then he made a detour to the kitchen, finding the photo on the table. He took it and went to meet Caesar in the bedroom. Nathaniel quietly closed the door behind him. Caesar was sitting on the edge of the bed, pajama bottoms already on as he worked at getting his head through a change of shirt. Nathaniel stared at the bare skin until it was covered by cotton. Then he moved to sit next to him.
“You were right,” he said, handing over the photo.
Caesar looked at the image before raising his head to search his eyes. He was a smart guy, enough that Nathaniel knew he wouldn’t need to explain. The emotional outburst earlier, the evening’s entertainment, all slotted into place nicely with this piece of information. The only thing Caesar didn’t know was a question Nathaniel also struggled to answer.
“I feel like I should say I’m sorry, but… Is this good news or bad?”
“I don’t know,” Nathaniel said. “I guess that depends on what he’s like. Maybe he won’t want to see me, or maybe he’s a creep. It’s pretty damn ironic either way. I brought you here to show you who I am, only to find out that I don’t actually know.”
“That’s not true,” Caesar said, handing back the photo. “You know who Carrie is?”
The Asian girl, the oldest kid in the Hubbard household.
“She’s my sister,” Caesar continued. His expression welcomed challenge. When it didn’t come, he explained. “We’re not blood. She doesn’t know who her biological parents are, but she has a mom and a dad, and she definitely has a brother. Anyone who says otherwise is asking for this.”
Nathaniel tried not to laugh when Caesar held up a fist. He failed. “But what if her real parents—sorry, her biological parents—showed up one day?”
“So what?” Caesar said. “It wouldn’t change who she’s been this whole time. She hasn’t been living a lie or pretending to have a family. That’s not how it works. Your parents should have been honest with you, but they’re still your family.”
“I’m not sure I want them to be,” Nathaniel said. “That’s the difference between Carrie and me.”
“I guess so.” Caesar nodded at the photo. “Are you going to see him?”
“Yeah. I don’t know where he is, and nobody wants to tell me, but I’ll track him down.”
“I’ll help you,” Caesar said. “If you still want me to.”
“Of course!” Nathaniel said. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because earlier… I don’t know.”
Earlier. The kiss now seemed a million miles away. Nathaniel had been so preoccupied with what he had learned that he’d nearly forgotten. Now it all came rushing back, not that it mattered because the Hubbards still expected better of him and Steph— Oh shit!
“You broke up with her.”
Caesar flopped back on the bed with a sigh. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“We’ve been arguing a lot lately, and both of us have said we’d be better off as friends. She still cried, which makes me feel like crap, but I wanted to do the right thing.”
Nathaniel scowled. “Because of the kiss? It was a one-time thing. I wouldn’t have told her.”
Caesar was quiet. When he spoke again, his voice sounded vulnerable. “What’s the bigger betrayal in your mind, kissing someone else or having feelings for them?”
“I wouldn’t have told her about that either.”
“Her not knowing doesn’t make it okay!”
“So what are you going to do, never date again just because you have feelings for me?” Nathaniel exhaled. “We can’t be together. It’s not just Steph. If your parents found out—”
“I won’t tell them.”
“Not knowing doesn’t make it okay.” Nathaniel glanced back to find Caesar grinning, like he’d already solved the problem. “I’m serious.”
Caesar studied him. “So am I.”
Nathaniel had lost so much tonight: a brother, a father, maybe even a part of his own identity. That he might gain something new, something he had long desired… the temptation was too great. Still, he had to try to do the right thing. Just once more.
“I’m tired. It’s time for bed.”
He rose to switch off the light, but turned around before doing so. Caesar was settling beneath the covers, his back to the room. Nathaniel didn’t blame him. The poor guy had dumped his girlfriend, only to be rejected after a very misleading kiss. As Nathaniel got undressed in the dark and slipped between the sheets, he realized he couldn’t have made a bigger mess of things. Anything he could have done wrong, he had. Except that wasn’t quite true. Not yet. His final mistake would be falling asleep and waking up again to find their potential swallowed up by the morning chill.
He reached out, the tips of his fingers touching warm cotton. Caesar breathed in sharply and went still. Nathaniel froze too, but not for long. Touching him felt good. His fingertips traced an abstract shape across Caesar’s back, summoning a sigh. Nathaniel pressed his palm against him, slowly moving it up and down, delighting in the friction that was pulling the fabric upward. He reached down for the hem, Caesar quickly helping to remove the shirt before lying back down. Nathaniel touched his back again, this time feeling warm skin. He caressed the boney shoulder blades, then let his fingers crest the side of his torso to the ribs. Caesar captured his hand, tugging on his arm so that Nathaniel was forced to scoot closer.
Their bodies made contact piece by piece. Nathaniel’s knee bumped the back of Caesar’s thigh before nestling into the nook of his leg. Toes touched ankle before sliding beneath Caesar’s foot. His arm flexed as Caesar’s back made contact with his chest, drawing them even closer together. This only left one area, which he was purposefully holding back. Caesar had other ideas, pressing his rump against Nathaniel’s crotch and squirming a little, just to make a point.
That was pretty damn exciting, but Nathaniel’s attention was on Caesar’s ear, which he delicately nibbled. Caesar’s face turned to meet his, eyes shining. He looked so happy! Nathaniel stared, astonished that he could make anyone feel that way. Then he realized he could make them both feel a lot happier by leaning forward. Their lips met, Caesar smiling briefly in the middle of their kiss. He scooted away, but only to roll over so they were facing each other.
“This isn’t a one-time thing,” he said. “Promise me.”
“It might not be a thing at all,” Nathaniel said. “Not if you keep talking.”
“I like talking,” Caesar said mischievously.
“Really? Then give me something to work with.” Nathaniel managed to sound cocky, when in reality, he was the inexperienced one. He knew from previous conversations that neither of them had really been with a guy, but Caesar had been with a few girls, one of them a regular partner. Nathaniel had no idea how he was expected to compete with that.
“Roll over onto your back,” Caesar said.
Nathaniel did as he was told, sucking in air when Caesar’s hand slid over his pecs before moving south. The tips of Caesar’s fingers snuck beneath the band of his boxers and found his cock, gripping it tightly. Nathaniel supposed that was one arena where Steph couldn’t measure up.
“Nice,” Caesar hissed in appreciation, pumping his hand up and down. “You like how that feels?”
Nathaniel answered by grabbing Caesar beneath the pits and yanking him over so he was lying on top. Then he reached for the waist of his pajama bottoms and shoved them down enough for something hard to thwack against his thigh. As Nathaniel gripped this and stroked it, a memory flashed of that final day with his former friend. At least this was familiar territory.
“That’s it,” Caesar said, voice husky like he was auditioning for a porn movie. “Tug on my dick.”
Nathaniel stopped what he was doing. “You talk too much, you know that?”
“Steph liked it.”
“Probably because she didn’t have a convenient way of shutting you up.”
“Such as?”
It was better. Even the way Caesar kept nicking him with his teeth summoned pleasure. Part of Nathaniel was eager to return the favor. The rest of him was caught up in selfish bliss. He remained on his back, trying to moan quietly, the spell broken when Caesar stopped suddenly and threw back the covers.
“Hey. Are you uncut?”
Nathaniel glanced down. “Yeah. So?”
“Can we turn on the light? I want to see.”
Nathaniel rolled his eyes, reaching down to pull Caesar up to his level. He kissed him before another conversation could start. Then he flipped Caesar onto his back, making the same journey south. He noticed first the musky smell, which made his cock flex in anticipation. He felt wiry pubic hair on his cheek as he grabbed Caesar’s searing hot cock. Then he took it in his mouth to help cool it down.
He gagged a few times before he got the hang of it, listening intently to Caesar’s breathing, taking it as a good sign when he started to moan. Then Caesar started talking again, making requests, asking Nathaniel to return so they could swap. His pleas were ignored, Nathaniel focusing on the task at hand. He had fantasized about this for so long and felt like he could never do it enough to make up for all those years of wanting. Eventually Caesar stopped talking and started whimpering. Nathaniel bobbed his head up and down faster and was rewarded with hot spurts of liquid in his mouth. He wasn’t sure if he’d like it, and admittedly it was a little weird, but being drunk on hormones made it easy to swallow.
Caesar pushed him away when he tried to keep going, so Nathaniel crawled back up to his level, rubbing himself against Caesar’s hip to express his need.
“Don’t worry,” Caesar said. “I’ll take care of you. I promise. But first…” He swung out of bed. A moment later, the lights flicked on.
Nathaniel growled in protest, blinking. “What are you doing?”
“I told you. I want to see.”