by J P Barnaby
“Anthony, this is Melanie. Melanie, this is my younger brother Anthony.” The adoration in Allen’s voice was surpassed only by the emotion of his gaze as he looked at her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said with a soft smile, holding out a well-manicured hand. Anthony took it, not sure if he should shake it or kiss it.
He went with the former.
Allen slid his hand to Melanie’s lower back, and they stepped past him and into the living room as Anthony closed the door and turned back to the insanity that had befallen Bren’s home. If he hadn’t convinced Anthony of his love last night, Anthony might have wondered if they’d make it past this. But in his heart, he didn’t even worry.
“Mom, Dad, Aaron, this is Melanie,” Allen introduced again, and their mother stood to give Melanie a hug while his father and Aaron hung back. His dad shook her hand, but Aaron just gave her a half wave. She smiled gently at him, the same smile Darren had given Bren last night. It looked like an “I have no idea what to say to you, so I’m just going to smile awkwardly” kind of thing, and he wondered just how often people treated Aaron like that. It hurt his soul to think of people constantly giving Bren that smile.
While his parents talked with Melanie, cutting through the tension, Bren wrapped his arms around Anthony from behind and kissed him just below the ear. Patrick smiled at them from behind his coffee cup. In that moment, Anthony knew he would be okay.
Anthony’s mother talked with Melanie about nothing while Aaron quietly relayed to Allen what had happened to that point. He heard the word boyfriend as they looked up at Bren. It shocked him to hear the words seems to be doing better as he led Bren back to the love seat. They sat down, and Bren put an arm around him, surrounding him with warmth, encouragement, and the delicate scent of woodsy spice Anthony loved.
Their return to the circle seemed to be the cue for things to continue. Allen and Melanie pulled up a couple of the vacant folding chairs and sat next to Patrick for their little Anthony-intervention. Allen reached over to hold Melanie’s hand, bringing his abstract girlfriend into their concrete world. At almost the same time, he also noticed that his parents weren’t touching. He didn’t know what that meant.
“So, what happens now?” Allen asked, brutally cutting through to the heart of the matter. They’d told their stories. They’d shed their tears. Now it was time to take action.
Their mother started to say something, but Aaron put a hand on her arm.
“What are your plans, Anthony?” The room held a collective breath as Aaron tossed the question out like a grenade, waiting for the shrapnel to pierce them all.
“I’m staying here. Patrick said I can keep working at the liquor store and take on more responsibility when I turn twenty-one. We’re going to work on the apartment above the store and make it more of a permanent place to live. I’m also going to apply to Wayne State. I have friends there, and they say it’s pretty gay-friendly. I don’t know what I’m going to major in yet, but the first year is all foundational crap anyway so I have a bit of time to decide.” Anthony rattled everything off in a hurry, feeling distinctly nervous at the reddening hue of his mother’s face. She looked like an old Tom and Jerry cartoon he used to watch as a kid, as Tom’s head turned into a teakettle before he exploded in a shrill whistle.
“I am not going to let my eighteen-year-old son live above a liquor store in Detroit. It’s ludicrous. If you want to go to college, that’s great. We want you to go to college. We’ll find a college that works for you once you figure out what you want to do.”
“There are actually two sets of locks between him and the outside in that apartment,” Patrick put in, his voice even. “There’s the one on the front door with a motion-sensor alarm and then there’s another on the apartment itself. So, actually, he’s safer there than he would be in a dorm or other apartment.”
“He wouldn’t be safer than he is at home,” she countered.
“Actually, none of us are safe anywhere,” Aaron said quietly. “I lived in that house all my life and I wasn’t safe.”
“No, you are not ganging up on me, not about this,” his mother said, managing to wag a finger at them.
They started to squabble among themselves, and Anthony sighed. He had no intention of letting them talk him back to DeKalb. They had no way to force him. The clock ticked away on the bookshelf as they argued, and he’d almost decided to say something when Bren cleared his throat.
“Look, I know just like Aaron does that no one is safe anywhere. Is your only objection to him staying here with us that you don’t want him living above the store?” Bren asked in a low, steady voice.
“It’s not the only reason, but it’s a big one,” his mother admitted.
“Okay.” Bren turned slightly so his upper body faced Anthony. He smiled, and the world seemed to brighten with that one simple act. With his free hand, Bren took Anthony’s and entwined their fingers. Anthony looked at them and then back up into Bren’s face.
“What would you think of moving in with me? Roommates, boyfriends, whatever—I like having you here.” Bren stroked the back of Anthony’s hand with his thumb.
“How’s he going to get to work?” Patrick chimed in, not in a harsh way, but more trying to work the problem.
“Anthony’s had the money to fix the car for weeks.”
Patrick stared at Anthony, and then his family turned to stare at Anthony. The room heated inexorably as Anthony blushed.
“You have?”
“I didn’t want to leave.” The words came out as no more than a whisper, but everyone in the room seemed to hear them. They sat back in their chairs, still looking at Anthony. He felt as though he’d accidentally stood in front of the television during the final out of the World Series.
“So, you would have just… what? Kept Sandy waiting forever?” The humor in Patrick’s voice took the sting out of the words.
“I was just giving myself a little time. I had a pretty good idea that you’d let me stay and you weren’t looking for a new stocker, so I hoped you’d let me keep my job. Sean and I went to Wayne State and got a package for enrollment. I was just trying to figure out what to do about the FAFSA forms without my parents’ information.” Anthony shrugged and glanced at his parents.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Bren nudged Anthony’s arm and planted a kiss on the side of his hair.
“You really want me to move in with you?” He couldn’t keep the hope out of his voice.
“I have a ton of space, and it will be nice not to be alone in this house anymore.”
Bren touched his face, and Anthony nodded as his mother sat forward.
“Anthony, I don’t think that’s a—”
“Melanie’s pregnant. We’re getting married,” Allen announced, and the room fell silent for exactly thirty seconds before chaos ensued.
“You’re too young to start a family. You haven’t even graduated from college,” his mother cried, grabbing their father’s hand for the first time, as though she just couldn’t take anymore.
“No, I haven’t, but I have a good job and I can do college for a year and work. It’s one year. Then I’ll have a foundation to take care of my family.” Allen turned his head to Melanie, who smiled at him. The adoration between them made Anthony’s breath catch. He hoped one day, he and Bren might have that same deep connection, something more than love, something foundational.
“When…. When were you planning to get married? We have to have time to plan.”
“Oh, we were just going to go to the justice of the peace and—”
“You will not,” his mother said. “Even if we have it in the backyard, you are going to have a proper wedding. You guys are working together to give me a coronary.” She leaned against their father and wondered aloud if Patrick had any Bailey’s she could add to that coffee before they dropped any more surprises on her.
Patrick stood up and went into the kitchen.
“Well, Mom, look on the bright side
. At least Aaron can’t knock up Spencer,” Allen said with a laugh. Anthony snorted. Allen had always come to the rescue with him, and with Aaron.
Then the reality of what Allen said hit him.
“I’m going to be an uncle?” Everything in the room brightened with that single thought.
“That you are, little brother.”
“Hey, Aaron, didn’t you say Spencer’s aunt had a baby? When you get married, won’t that make you a….”
Aaron rolled his eyes.
“I’m not talking about marriage anytime soon, and that would make her Spencer’s cousin.”
“Awwww. I can just see you playing with a baby.”
“No, you can’t.”
“What’s her name?”
Despite his grumbling, Aaron smiled then. “Her name is Sophie.”
Twenty-Three
IT TOOK a while for Anthony’s family to leave his house, and Bren appreciated the silence. At one time in their lives, the house had been filled with chatter and laughter, but slowly, it had turned into a mausoleum. Maybe Anthony would be able to help him change that.
Anthony had started to clean up the plates and cups in the kitchen. Something inside Bren swelled as he watched. Well, something in his pants swelled too, but that was a completely different thing.
Bren liked having Anthony there, though he noticed that during the conversation with his parents, Anthony had never actually agreed to move in with him. Because of the chaos of the talk, and the stress of his parents, Bren had let it go, but it niggled at him, like things often did when he dwelled on them longer than he should. So he hoisted himself off the couch and joined Anthony in the kitchen.
“You only put your arms around me to keep from doing dishes,” Anthony admonished with a laugh as Bren wrapped his arms around Anthony’s waist. He kissed the back of Anthony’s neck, eliciting a shiver that made him hard.
“Yep.”
“There isn’t much here; I’ll have them in the dishwasher in a minute. You want to watch a movie?” Anthony asked as he rinsed another plate and stacked it to go into the machine. He smelled like Bren’s soap, and Bren kissed him again.
“I want to start watching a movie. Then I want to give up on it because we were making out too much to pay attention. After that, I want to spend the rest of the afternoon in bed making you moan my name.”
“Then get out of my way so I can load the damn dishwasher and we can get started.”
Bren laughed and released Anthony from his grip. He liked this Anthony, the fun-loving, free-spirited guy he had become. The lonely, angry teenager had slipped into his past like the football-playing, business major had slid into Bren’s. They were different people, maybe even the people fate intended them to be. And at least for a while, they were happy.
“There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about,” Bren said, pulling up his big-boy pants. He’d been researching and talking about it with Patrick, but he hadn’t brought it up to Anthony because he didn’t want to get his boyfriend’s hopes up. He didn’t know if it would work. He didn’t know if they’d be able to be a normal couple one day.
Anthony stalled, and Bren wondered what he thought the talk could be about. Finally, he put the last of the dishes into the machine and turned around. His eyes stayed locked on the front of Bren’s shirt.
“Whatever you think this is about, you’re probably wrong,” Bren said, putting a finger under Anthony’s chin and lifting it until their eyes met.
“Okay. Then what is it about?”
“Wait, what do you think it’s about first?” Bren asked with real curiosity.
“That maybe you were hasty in asking me to move in with you and you’d changed your mind.”
“Hold on, is that why you haven’t answered me yet? You think I’m going to change my mind?”
Anthony didn’t say anything, but the worry in his face screamed his agreement more than any vocal admission.
“Anthony, I really want you to move in with me. It wasn’t just a knee-jerk reaction to your parents freaking out. I just didn’t know how to ask you because I figured you had better options than being locked up with the freak who can’t leave.” Now it was Bren’s turn to look away.
“Yes, I’ll move in with you,” Anthony said and took Bren’s face between his hands. The resulting kiss brimmed with hope and love and promise.
“Wow,” Bren whispered when it finally ended.
“Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”
Bren took a breath and then laced his fingers with Anthony’s as they faced each other between the sink and the table.
“I’ve been looking online and talking to Patrick. I think I want to try working with a therapist. You deserve more than someone who is trapped in the house by their own head. I want to be that guy.”
Anthony touched Bren’s cheek. “First, you can’t take on therapy because of me. It won’t work. If I learned anything from years of living with Aaron, therapy has to be something you want. Second, I like you just the way you are, Bren. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here. You are the guy I want to be with now; you don’t need to change. Finally, I will stand by your side, whatever decision you choose. I see what the right therapist has done to help Aaron, and it’s been like night and day. I want that for you, not because I want you to change, but because I want you to look in the mirror and like the guy you see. I want you to be able to go out and enjoy the sunshine or catch a Lions game if you want. Not for me, but for you.”
“Fuck the movie,” Bren breathed and wrapped his strong arms around Anthony. He lifted Anthony so he had no alternative but to wrap his legs around Bren’s waist. Their kiss started in the kitchen, but after slamming his knee into the doorframe and Anthony’s head into a low-hanging lamp in the hall, he sat Anthony back on his feet and just held his hand until they reached the bedroom. He stopped and turned.
“Are you sure you want to do this? We don’t have to. We can just mess around like we always do.”
“I want to do it, and I want it to be with you. Now stop stalling and strip.”
Bren laughed and pulled him inside the room to shut and lock the door. He didn’t know why. Even when he was alone in the house, he locked the bathroom door. Maybe it was because he could never know who might walk in through the door or the carnage they could bring. Since the shooting, Bren liked locked doors.
He took off his shirt first. In the harsh light of afternoon, he hated the way his body looked since his life had atrophied. During high school, he’d worked hard to build his body up. But after two years of apathy, he felt small and weak. It didn’t matter before; no one saw it. But now Anthony did see it, and Bren hated it. But then he noticed Anthony’s hungry expression, and his self-doubt faded to a quiet hum instead of a roar.
Anthony stripped out of the nice button-down Patrick had lent him for the standoff with his parents. With each successive button, Bren’s mouth went just a little drier. The undershirt came next, and Bren’s hands froze on the button of his jeans while he watched. In the oversized clothes he wore, Anthony seemed small and waifish. Now he was out of them, Bren wanted nothing more than to trace the lines and contours of that sweet body with his mouth.
Bren stepped forward and pulled Anthony to him by the waistband of his jeans. He didn’t want to wait anymore. Their kiss melted all the tiny little places inside him that were still frozen by fear and doubt. Their mouths opened and closed against each other again and again, and Bren felt Anthony moan into his mouth. It made the ache in his cock ten times worse… or better. Anthony’s hands were on his ass before he could blink, and he reached between them to get their pants out of the way before his brain exploded.
When they kicked out of their jeans and underwear, Bren stopped Anthony from climbing onto the bed.
“What?” Anthony asked. “Don’t you want…?”
“I do. It’s awkward-conversation time.”
“Another one?”
“Tell me what you want to happen.”
/>
“I want to have sex.”
“How?”
“What do you mean, how? Insert tab A into slot B…. Repeatedly.”
“Who is the tab and who is the slot?”
“Did you just call me a slot?”
Bren broke then and sat on the edge of the bed laughing. Anthony put a hand on his shoulder. He tried not to notice Anthony’s naked dick bobbing in front of his face.
“I cleaned up earlier because I want you to fuck me,” Anthony said. “Does that make it easier?”
Instead of responding, Bren inched forward on the bed and pulled Anthony’s cock into his mouth. Anthony’s hands rested on his shoulders, and he loved the contact between them. Nothing heavy, just gentle touches of affection. Anthony didn’t try to grab Bren’s head or thrust his hips but took what Bren gave him. It only lasted a few minutes, though, until Bren couldn’t stand it anymore and needed Anthony to be under him.
“Should I lie on my back, or…?” Anthony’s shyness seemed to return with the close proximity of having sex for the first time. Bren pulled Anthony down next to him onto the bed. They lay on their sides, facing each other, with no space between them—chest to chest, hip to hip, legs entwined. Bren had never really lain with someone so close it felt as if they were a single person, and he kissed Anthony slowly in thanks.
They kissed for a while longer, until the tension in Anthony’s body stretched into coarse sexual need. He rubbed his hips against Bren, almost begging for him to take them further. Anthony went eagerly when he rolled them and planted his hands on either side of his boyfriend’s head. He rolled his hips against Anthony.
“Are you sure?”
“Will you get the lube already?”
“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?” Bren leaned over to his nightstand and found the lube he’d been using to jack off. Anthony ran his bare feet over the sides of Bren’s hips, spreading himself open as Bren rubbed his dick just behind Anthony’s balls.
“I haven’t been with anyone since the shooting,” Bren whispered.
“I trust you. I don’t want to use a condom unless you do,” Anthony whispered back, as if speaking would ruin the moment with more awkward decisions. Bren nodded and sat up on his knees between Anthony’s open thighs. He couldn’t articulate how hot Anthony looked, though he wanted to. Dribbling a bit of lube on his fingers, he slid them over Anthony’s hole before it had the chance to drip on the bed. Not that Bren cared about the sheets. He just wanted his fingers inside Anthony.