Rusty Knob

by Erica Chilson

  “NO!” Royce’s fist pounds the edge of the table. “I don’t need to know the specifics to figure out what Warren and you are talking around. No more of that horseshit. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir,” Warren and Kade say in unison, with Bren coughing into his hand, “Says the Kennedy who is known for buying Gillettes.” He clears his throat, and then coughs for real.

  “I’m not an idiot, ya know?” I glare at Warren, knowing he’s at fault. “I’ll never get over Daddy and Momma having no issue selling my ass. I expected better out of you, brother.”

  Warren rolls his eyes. “I think you’ve been hanging ‘round Royce too long, learning the art of guilt and manipulation.”

  Penny leans across the table to pat my hand. In a sweet, concerned voice, she murmurs, “Winnie, you sure you ain’t a girl?”

  “Oh, my God.” I release a few snarls and choice cuss words, and Willa doesn’t dare swat me for it. “I’ma kill you if you keep that shit up!”

  “Just riling ya up, dummy!” Penny and Warren laugh together at my expense, obviously conspiring against me.

  “You guys have been replaced.” I flash a glacial glare at them. “Bren’s my new brother. Willa’s my favorite sister. And Jack will always be my best friend. So you guys can take a big suck of my ass.”

  “That’s what he wants.” Willa points at Kade, voice and expression serious. It takes a heartbeat, where we’re all shocked that came from Willa, and Kade’s the first to crack. The table erupts into hysteria, with everyone lobbing euphemisms for gay sex acts at Kade and me. I join in, realizing they’re desensitizing themselves to something that makes them uncomfortable.

  “Momma.” Hayley tugs on Willa’s sleeve, never abiding by her mom’s NTP rules. “Can we play games later?”

  “Hmm…” Willa surprises us all by wrapping her arm around Hayley’s shoulders. “After supper is cleaned up. But not for long, ‘cuz you’ve got school in the morning.”

  With big, blue eyes filled with innocence, “Can we play for money?” Hayley negotiates.

  “What the hell kind of kids are these?” Kade mouths to me. “That vulture is not my sweet student from last school year.”

  “Babe, we’ll play Bullshit with a winner’s pot.” Warren makes Hayley’s day. “Go on now and get to cleaning up. Your brother will help you.” As soon as the kids scamper to the kitchen with plates in their hands, Warren says to Kade. “We’re Gillettes, and games are only fun if you have something to win or lose.”

  “Gillettes cheat.” Kade narrows his eyes. “I remember well.”

  “Just part of the game,” Warren sings as he stands from his seat.

  “Kennedys are no better.” Kade glares at Bren. “Those kids are the evil incarnation of two very bad bloodlines.”

  Bren stacks a bunch of plates, and then says over his shoulder as he walks toward the kitchen. “If I ever have kids, I want ‘em to be just like Hayden and Hayley. As for cheating, I call that creative playing. So don’t be a pussy, bro, and ante up.”

  I decide to help clean up, but first I make sure everyone knows I’m honest. “I don’t cheat.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Royce grumbles, and then he rolls his eyes. “But maybe you ought to start.”

  “Don’t release Teenage Wynn, Royce,” Kade says in an ominous voice. “You’ve been warned.” An evil twist to Kade’s lips captures my attention, and everything else is blocked out when they touch mine.

  I’m hit upside the head before I can even react. “No,” Royce snarls. “Kade, I know you’re trying to piss me off since you waited for everyone else to leave the dining room. Don’t test me, boy.”

  “Just proving a point, is all.” Kade’s laughter lingers even after he leaves the room.

  Royce’s, “You be a good boy,” rings in my ears all night, and it riles me up. Seventeen or not, I’m my own man. I respect Royce, but I’ve been taking care of myself for this long, I can’t go backward and pretend I’m the kid I never was.

  Teenage Wynn Bad Boy

  “Okay, kids. It’s time to go to bed.” Royce stands up, stretching his back out, effectively ending our fun. “C’mon. Let’s wash up.”

  We all groan for different reasons: the kids because they don’t want to go to bed, and the adults because the kids are card sharks. Hayley’s sitting on the floor, wearing the satisfied smirk of a budding gambler, counting her winnings out loud in a smug, girlish tone.

  Warren and Penny left about an hour ago when the stakes were getting too high. My brother simply said, “Too rich for my blood,” and walked out of the house. My wallet is ten bucks lighter, and I was winning some. Poor Bren– his wallet’s empty now.

  Kade points at my niece, gaze filled with pride. “I taught Hayley that. She was one of my brightest students, especially in math.”

  “First grade, dude. First grade. You’re not teaching Rocket Science.” Bren rolls his eyes dramatically. “Pretty sure Penny taught the kid how to count change at the laundry mat… just saying.”

  Hayley’s eyes flick up to us as we stand around her. “Mr. Marx taught me how to read. But it was Uncle Wynn who taught me how to count.”

  Kade’s eyebrow raises in question, and I simply mutter, “Don’t ask.” Hayley learned her mathematics just like the rest of the Gillettes did. How many beers has Papaw had? One to four? Hide. Five to ten? Stand your ground. Eleven to fifteen? Call an ambulance for when he beats one of us. More than a case? Let him rot in his own piss and vomit.

  “I want a bedtime story, Uncle Winnie,” Hayden nearly whines. He drops his winnings onto his sister’s pile to be put toward their future iPad– one more round of Bullshit, and they might not have to share. “The real ones, where they’re scary.”

  “Hayden has a thing for the Grimm Brothers,” I offer as an explanation. I reach down to ruffle his hair, and then muss up Hayley’s curly fauxhawk. The girl keeps cutting it every time it grows out. “I’ll be up in a bit. I’ve got to say goodnight to Kade.”

  “Night, Kade!” Royce waves like he’s a little kid, then grabs the twins’ hands and makes them wave too. “I’ll call you later. You go on out through the front door.” Turning a smug smirk my way, he goes from friendly to pissed in a heartbeat. “Now you can read the kids a story.”

  Kade’s laughter is loud and infectious, and I’m pretty sure he keeps repeating ass when he takes a breath. “Night, Dad,” comes in a warped tone. “I’d like my brother to walk me out, if you don’t mind.”

  “Oh, I mind,” Royce drawls. “Hey, Bren? Walk your brother out. Wynn’s busy reading to the kids.”

  Bren raises his hands out in front of himself, refusing to get in the middle of this. “I ain’t got no horse in this race. Leave me out of it.”

  “C’mon, kids, Wynn, let’s get upstairs,” Royce urges, trying to herd us out of the den.

  I look to my sister for some help, only to find her laughing into her hands. “I can’t… I just can’t…” She’s out of breath from trying to keep her amusement quiet. “I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. My God, this is hilarious.”

  “Uncle Daddy?” Hayley’s voice is sweet with calculation, not confusion. “But I gotta get washed up first. Uncle Wynn’s got time to see Mr. Marx off.”

  Royce snarls, looking like a cat readying to hiss. “Hayley? Remember how I said that doesn’t sound good? Either Daddy or Uncle Royce, not a combination. Okay?”

  “Daddy?” Hayley turns on the charm, batting her long lashes. “Will you change my Band-Aid after I brush my teeth?” She holds up her fingertip covered by Disney characters.

  “Yeah, darlin’.” Royce takes her hand, swallowing it up in his. But he turns to issue a warning. “No leaving the porch. No going to Kade’s car. Willa stays in the front room at all times, and Bren is going with you. Got it?”

  “I want Hansel and Gretel,” Hayden chirps as they leave the room.

  “No, Rapunzel,” Hayley argues. “You got to pick last night.”

  “Okay, b
ut we’re reading in my room. I don’t like having to get up to go to my bed when the story makes me sleepy.”

  “Deal.”

  Filled with a mother’s love, “They are such good kids.” Willa gazes after the twins and Royce. Then she turns to me. “Those aren’t the original stories, are they?”

  “Ah…” My eyes go wide, not knowing how to respond, causing Willa to hightail it upstairs to find our huge tome of Grimms’ Fairy Tales. “Good thing the cover fell off, so she won’t know which book it is.”

  “Learn to lie, bub. Learn to lie.” Bren pats my shoulder. “Shall we retire to the porch so Mr. Marx can get a good, refreshing night’s rest in preparation of expanding the minds of tiny sociopaths?”

  “I pity that girl’s future husband.” Kade’s eyes are transfixed on the staircase, like he can still see the twins. “At seven, Hayley manipulates better than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

  Bren points at his puffed up, scrawny chest with pride. “I taught her that!”

  “Stay!” I treat Bren like he’s a dog. “If your dad comes downstairs before I’m back inside, just tell him we threatened to beat you.”

  “Pfft… yeah, right. Like he’d buy that with you two pacifists.” Bren shoulders his way past me, yanks the front door open, and lets the screen door slam when he makes his way onto the front porch.

  “You really need to get a handle on Royce, or he’ll walk right over you,” Kade warns me. Before I can respond, he palms the back of my neck to draw my lips to his.

  Leaning forward and rising up a bit to reach Kade better, I’m completely shameless in our kiss. Inexperienced, I try hard not to slobber all over him, but fail miserably when my tongue has a mind of its own. I end up awkwardly licking his chin on accident.

  “We need to practice,” Kade chuckles against my lips. “Lots of practice.”

  “I can do better,” comes in a raspy voice. I shut off the part of me that is thinking, and go on pure instinct. I curl my fingertips into Kade’s shirt, tugging him closer. At the same time, I nip his bottom lip.

  Whimpering, Kade opens his mouth, and I know I’m doing something right. Our moment is cut short when a door slams upstairs and voices float down. We hop apart, both of us glancing at the staircase.

  “Seriously.” Kade drops a quick kiss to my lips. “Ask Bren for the same advice he gave me.” He steps away when all I want to do is get closer. “No one understands how you feel about Royce more than I do. How appreciative you feel. How you worry about disappointing him, like you’re an investment he’s making, and if you fuck up he’ll take it all away.”

  I stare at Kade, speechless, feeling like he’s somehow entered my private thoughts. Chuckling with satisfaction, he rubs the center of my chest to calm me.

  “Royce gave you something you didn’t ask for but desperately needed. That doesn’t give him the license to boss you around for life. Nor does it take away your voice. Compromise on everything but being you. Everything else is a negotiation.” His hand drops from my chest, and I shiver from its loss. “Take Bren’s advice. It works.”

  “Yeah, listen to me,” Bren croons in a spooky voice inches behind me, causing me to jump and nearly piss my pants.

  “What the fuck?” I shake it off. “Did you get trained by a Ninja?”

  “The siren call of moans summoned me from the porch.” Bren’s teeth flash when he grins. “I’m a nosy bastard. I had to watch.”

  “Gross.” Kade shudders, but he’s smiling. “See ya around sometime, my annoying baby brother,” he says in parting to Bren, but he gives me a wink.

  “You both need to get laid,” is Bren’s advice. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”

  “I figure your dad isn’t going to get much sleep for a while, so that ain’t happening any time soon,” I grumble as I ascend the staircase.

  Bren follows me right into my room, shuts the door behind him, and then leans on it. I ignore him as I strip down to my boxers and tug on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt.

  “Here’s the thing, Golden Boy. You’re too good.”

  Folding my jeans, Bren’s words stop me in my tracks. I look at him over my shoulder, trying to figure out where the hell he’s going with this. “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “Hell, yeah!” Bren walks around my bedroom, snooping while chatting. “Look at me. I suck at everything. I’m mediocre, but I think I’m awesome.”

  “Are you serious?” I snort, and Bren looks offended.

  “I am,” Bren drawls. “I’m amazing because I truly believe I am. I’m short, dorky, and clumsy, but people still love me. It doesn’t matter that I’m not perfect. If you have a mix of achievements and fuck ups, no one will give a flip if you make a mistake. But if all you ever do is excel, the second you fail, everyone will be on your ass.”

  “I don’t like failing,” grumbles unbidden from my lips, making me feel like I’m whining.

  “That’s your problem!” Bren points at me, bugging his eyes out. “You put so much stress on yourself, to the point you tried to shoot your own head off.” I glare at Bren for bringing my biggest mistake back up again. “You did! You need to relax. Fucking up is not the end of the world, and it can be liberating.”

  “And I’m to what?” I toss my jeans on the floor, feeling a bit guilty for not taking good care of something that was given to me. “Misuse my shit, treat everyone nastily, and don’t give a fuck about anything?”

  “Nah, dude.” Bren reaches into my dresser drawer, hand sweeping beneath the clothing, looking for my darkest secrets. He scowls when he comes up empty-handed. “You’re boring,” he pouts. “You can’t let Dad stop you from fooling around. He’ll be telling you what to eat, what time to go to bed, and what to wear when you’re seventy. Cut the cord.”

  “I respect your dad.” I slump to my bed. “I can’t do that.”

  “Bro!” Bren mock-punches me in the arm. “There is nothing you could ever do to piss that man off enough to where he won’t love you. Trust me.”

  “I don’t want to disappoint him.”

  “Do you love Willa and Warren any less, or do you love them more for overcoming their mistakes?”

  “I…” I reach down to pick up my jeans, fold them, and then place them in my dresser. “They are Willa and Warren. I expect them to act like Willa and Warren, and that has nothing to do with me.”

  “Exactly.” Bren reaches into the drawer of my nightstand, and his hand returns palming my lube. He grins hugely, happy to see I’m not a saint. “You just be you, and don’t worry about what Dad thinks about that. That’s on Dad.”

  I snatch the Anal Eze out of Bren’s hand, and toss it back into my drawer. “I got it online,” I mutter bashfully. “I was curious.”

  “You’re human.” Bren quickly steps into my closet, and returns scowling. He stomps to the door, pissed he didn’t find anything interesting in my room. “Act like it,” is said as the door shuts behind him.

  Enter Sandman

  I de-stress using my nightly ritual: lying in bed with my laptop and my headphones on. I laugh shamelessly at the Buzzfeed video of The Try Guys. I’ve got a serious crush on Eugene. There’s been too many late nights rewatching videos to count. On a few mornings I’ve walked around like a zombie, and I fear tomorrow will be one of them.

  “God, take it off, Eugene.” I groan, my hand venturing south. “Mmm… You look damn fine wearing ladies’ lingerie, but I bet you’d look even hotter with it off. Mmm… hmm…”

  I fight the urge for my eyes to shut as my fingers dip below my waistband, skimming along my hardening dick. Giving up, my eyes slip shut and my ass cheeks flex. My laptop slides from my thighs to rest on my bedspread. On autopilot, my hand reaches into the drawer in my nightstand, coming out with my lube.

  Back arching, hips gyrating, I marvel over how great my life is versus how it used to be. Privacy is a luxury, but nothing is as good as getting hard at will because I finally know what turns me on. With a groan, my hand strokes my length while
Eugene and Keith laugh together.

  Not bothering to take off my pajama pants, both of my hands are working furiously beneath the fabric. The thick lube paves the way as I get way into it. I roll my balls between my fingertips, getting off on how it shoots darts of electricity up my spine. It hurts so good.

  Last week I found this new technique of drawing out my orgasm, stoking me until I can’t take it anymore by grinding my knuckles into my taint. Jackknifing off the bed, eyes squeezing shut, I wrap my hand around the base of my dick and my nutsack to stop me from spurting, at the same time, the knuckles of my other hand rub and roll along my taint.

  “Oh, fuck!” I flop back to the bed, spine still bowed, when a knuckle makes contact with my asshole. “Jesus Christ.” My cry ends on a whimper. But I still don’t allow myself to come.

  Eyes still shut, to the backdrop of Eugene’s voice, I squirt more lube into my hand. I wiggle a bit, legs spreading as far as my pajamas will allow, I slip a fingertip inside me for the very first time.

  An odd gurgling noise rumbles up my throat, a mix of pain and ecstasy. Dick and balls and taint long forgotten, I find my new favorite plaything. I keep my hand stationary while I roll my hips up and down on instinct. I fuck about an inch of my fingertip, marveling over how it burns a bit, but I can feel myself loosening.

  “UH!” I grunt when my asshole sucks my finger in deeper, like something gave and I can finally move freely. Hips jerking, finger counterthrusting, my throat is spilling moan after moan as I ride the most intense wave of my life.

  Every muscle in my body contracts at once, my mouth opens up to release a building scream, and my balls tighten so hard I fear I’m going to shoot them out the tip of my dick.

  “Argh–” a heavy palm covers my mouth, pressing hard. I begin to struggle as my dick erupts and my finger impales me deeply. Terrified, my orgasm is so intense I can’t stop to protect myself.

  My headphones are wrenched off my head, and then a pair of lips whisper insanity. “Don’t stop, you little shit. Don’t you dare fucking stop.” Kade’s hand presses harder to my open mouth, my gasps and groans reverberating against his slick skin. “Fuck yourself– pretend it’s me.”