by Andria Large
“Your brother called me weak,” Gunnar barks, glaring at Bowen.
“I told you it came out wrong.”
“I can’t see how that could have come out in a better way.”
Bowen pushes his glasses up his nose and makes an exasperated noise. “I meant that you weren’t ready for how physically demandin’…that…can be.”
Gunnar looks around as if searching for something. “Has anyone seen Bowen’s shovel? He needs it to help dig that hole he’s got goin’ a little deeper.”
Griffin closes his eyes. Someone help me. Are they talking about what I think they’re talking about?
“Stop, just…both of you stop.” He interjects. “I’m sorry I asked. Bowen, why don’t you get goin’ and we’ll see you tomorrow.”
Bowen sends Gunnar one last glare before stomping toward the front door and walking out. Griffin sighs and goes over to the couch where he sits down next to Gunnar. He crosses his arms over his chest, hating that he’s even going to continue this conversation. He really doesn’t want to fucking know what they were arguing about, but he feels like he needs to smooth things over before they really start to hate each other.
“Wanna tell me what happened?”
“Your brother is a fuckin’ dickhead?”
"Come on, Gunnar. Is there somethin’ goin’ on between you two?”
“Not anymore,” he chuffs.
“Can you explain?”
He gives Griffin a dubious look. “You seriously want to know?”
“Not really, but I don’t like seein’ you two angry at each other. Maybe if you tell me what happened, I can help fix it.”
He sighs heavily and readjusts the hat on his head. That seems to be turning into a habit when he’s anxious or irritated. Just like how Bowen pushes his glasses up his nose. Griffin fights the smile that wants to curl his lips. Maybe they’re more alike than he originally thought.
“Fine. Bowen joined me in the shower after PT today because last week my knees gave out on me and I fell—“
“What?! You didn’t tell me this!”
Gunnar waves a dismissive hand. “I’m fine, landed on my knees, no big deal. Anyway, Bowen helped me finish washin’ up and that was it. So today, he insisted on comin’ in with me from the beginnin’. He wasn’t takin’ no for an answer, so…”
“Okay.”
“Well, if you haven’t figured it out, I think your brother is sexy as fuck.” He smirks, knowing full well that it’s going to irk Griffin.
“Yes, I figured that out, thank you,” he sneers.
“He came in the shower with me but kept his underwear on. I warned him ahead of time that I couldn’t guarantee that I’d keep my hands to myself. Well, I ended up kissin’ him, but before things could go any further, he pulled away and told me I was too weak. I made him get out of the shower after that.”
Griffin studies his eyes for a moment. “What did you do after you were done in the shower?”
“Took a nap. Why?”
Griffin gives him a pointed look. “Really? You need to ask me why?”
“Just because I took a nap doesn’t mean I’m weak, Griffin.”
“Did I say that?” He huffs. “I know my brother way better than you do. He was only lookin’ out for your well-being. He didn’t want you to further injure yourself. He’s not saying you are a weak person, just that your body isn’t strong enough yet to handle sex. Especially right after doin’ PT. This is where your stubbornness and ego fuck things up for you. They always have. We all know you’re a strong person, Gunnar, otherwise you wouldn’t be here, but I have to agree with Bowen that you weren’t strong enough to do…that…today.”
His lip lifts in disgust as he shakes his head.
“You know I’m right, admit it.” Griffin chuckles.
“Never,” Gunnar growls.
Griffin laughs. One side of Gunnar’s mouth kicks up as he sends and elbow into Griffin’s side.
“Oomf.”
Gunnar’s gaze on Griffin turns cautious. “Do you care that I like your brother?” he asks hesitantly.
Griffin shakes his head. “Nah. It’s cool.”
“Whatever my reasons were for not tellin’ you that I don’t like only women, I’m sorry.”
Griffin nods. “Thank you.”
“I hate not rememberin’.”
“I know.”
After about a minute of silence, Gunnar asks. “Hey, what have I told you about my time in foster care?”
Griffin frowns. “What do you mean?”
Gunnar turns his head away and readjusts his hat. When he looks back at Griffin, he can see the uncertainty in his eyes. “It’s just that…I’ve been having these dreams. It’s like me as a kid in foster care but shit happens. And I don’t know if it actually happened or if it’s just a dream.”
“Like what?” Griffin asks slowly.
His heart leaps up into his throat. He can’t even begin to imagine what Gunnar could be talking about. He’s never told Griffin about anything bad happening to him while in foster care.
“Well, in the one dream that I keep having, the people I was stayin’ with had a teenage daughter. I was probably about ten or eleven at the time. She would come into my room at night when everyone else was sleepin’ and…do things to me…sayin’ she was practicin’ so she could get better at doing it with her boyfriend.”
Griffin’s mouth drops open as he stares at Gunnar.
“Have I ever told you that before?” he questions.
Griffin shakes his head. “No. You never told me that. What kind of things are we talking about?”
He swallows hard. “It started off with hand jobs, then blow jobs, then she eventually started climbin’ on top of me and ridin’ me while she held my arms down. She said she didn’t want me to touch her, she just wanted to make sure she was doin’ it right.”
“Jesus, Gunnar,” Griffin hisses and runs a hand through his dark hair.
“This actually happened, didn’t it?” Gunnar murmurs.
“I…I can’t see any other reason why you would dream about it, Gunnar. I don’t think your brain would make somethin’ like that up.”
He nods, pursing his lips. “She raped me and I liked it. I wanted her to do it because it felt good.”
“Gunnar, you were a kid. You didn’t know.”
“Just add that to the list of things I’ve never told you,” he scoffs.
“It doesn’t matter, man. Don’t worry about it.”
“Of all the fuckin’ memories I could dream about, I get the fucked up ones. Not somethin’ happy.” He’s obviously pissed and it’s completely understandable.
“It’s not like you have control over it.”
“It would have been fuckin’ nice if that particular memory stayed forgotten.”
“Of course, but it never works out that way.”
“Fuckin’ bullshit,” he snarls.
“Are you dreamin’ about anything else?” Griffin asks.
Gunnar shakes his head. “That’s the only one I’ve been havin’ so far.”
“I guess the one good thing about it is that your brain is workin’ to remember things. Maybe your memory will come back sooner than later,” Griffin suggests and places his hand on Gunnar’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.
Gunnar nods. “Maybe.”
“How about we order out for dinner? You want some pizza?”
“Sure. And a beer would be good.”
“Okay.” He pats Gunnar’s knee as he gets up to get the menu for the pizza place.
This is horrible. He feels so fucking bad for Gunnar. He’s been dealing with this burden for how many years all by himself? Griffin doesn’t know why he didn’t tell him, and honestly, it doesn’t even matter anymore. He knows now, and he’ll do whatever he can to help his friend get through this, which likely means getting Gunnar to go to a therapist.
Chapter Nine
THE NEXT morning, Bowen shows up at his brother’s house at his normal tim
e of nine o’clock. Griffin steps out the front door as he’s getting out of his car. The somber look on his face sends up red flags. Grabbing his laptop bag from the back seat, he meets Griffin on the porch.
“Everythin’ okay?” Bowen asks with a frown.
“Listen, Gunnar’s having a rough day, so I need you to be extra understandin’ with him today.”
“It’s only nine in the mornin’ and he’s already havin’ a rough day?”
“Shit came up last night about his past—“
“He remembers?” Bowen exclaims, a flash of excitement coursing through him.
“No.” The hesitancy in his tones immediately kills said excitement. “Not exactly. He’s been havin’ dreams about some horrible shit that I believe actually happened to him. So he’s out of sorts today. He’s irritable and down on himself. So please, whatever he says to you, take it with a grain of salt. Don’t argue with him if he’s nasty. Just—“
“I got it, Griff. It’s okay,” Bowen murmurs and pats his shoulder.
“Thank you. I’m gonna try and cut out early today.”
“Okay. If you can, you can, if you can’t, don’t worry about it. I can handle him,” he assures his brother, who he can tell is very concerned about his friend.
If Bowen’s being honest, he’s concerned about Gunnar too. Whatever has come up is obviously serious. He’s not going to bother asking what it was about because it’s none of his business. If Gunnar wants to share and talk about it, then fine, but he’s not going to probe the guy about it. He always refused to talk about it when they were together, so he can't see it being any different now.
“Thank you, Bowen. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Griffin says with a small grateful smile.
Bowen returns the smile and gives Griffin’s cheek a light slap. “Love you, bro.”
“Love you, too.” Griffin chuckles then heads to his car.
Bowen walks in the front door and goes right for the table to set up his little work station. He doesn’t see Gunnar anywhere, so he assumes that he’s in the bedroom or bathroom. Deciding to give him time to emerge on his own, Bowen sits down to start working on everything he’s got planned for the day.
Gunnar appears from the hallway about fifteen minutes later. He’s walking a little stiffly but is moving much quicker than he has been. He’s wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants that Bowen can tell are not as loose as they were last week. He’s putting on weight, which is good. His face is scruffy and his normally bright eyes are glazed over and have dark bags under them. I wonder if he slept at all last night. Gunnar doesn’t acknowledge him as he walks by, going into the kitchen.
“Hi, Gunnar.”
“Hey,” he grumbles.
“Can I help you with anythin’? Do you want me to make you breakfast?” Bowen asks.
“No.”
“Okay. Well, just let me know if you need me to do anythin’ for you.”
Bowen turns in his seat to see what Gunnar’s doing. He finds him standing in the middle of the kitchen looking lost. Gunnar pulls in a deep breath and nosily blows it out. It hurts my heart to see him like this. I have no idea what I could possibly do for him either. I'm not sure how he’d react to anything. He's so stubborn and pig-headed, not wanting anyone's help. I mean, he won't even let me make him breakfast.
Gunnar seems to snap himself out of whatever made him pause and goes about making himself a veggie and cheese omelet. Assured that he’s handling it on his own, Bowen turns around and gets to work on the game that he’s developing.
Ten minutes later, Gunnar sits down adjacent to Bowen, at the head of the table, with his omelet and cup of coffee. Usually, he sits across from Bowen, so he’s surprised that he sat in what’s usually Griffin’s seat. Quietly, he begins eating his food.
“Did you sleep at all last night?”
He shakes his head. “Very little.”
Bowen hums. “Maybe you can catch a nap at some point today.”
Gunnar shrugs a shoulder in response, taking another bite of his omelet.
"I...ah...I keep getting the feeling there is more to our past than just knowing each other. What am I not remembering?"
Shit.
Bowen shifts in his chair and clears his throat. "We...um...we dated for six months about a year ago," he murmurs.
He glances at Gunnar to find him gaping at him. "What?" he chokes. "Did Griffin know?"
"Definitely not. You refused to come out to anyone other than me. That's what eventually broke us up."
Gunnar blinks rapidly. "Really?"
Bowen nods, a little ache forming in his chest.
"Were we...in love?" Gunnar rasps, his eyes searching Bowen's.
Bowen purses his lips and nods. He had been hoping to never have this conversation with him.
"Wow."
"Yeah."
After a few minutes of silence, Gunnar asks, “What’re ya workin’ on?” then nods his head in the direction of Bowen’s laptop.
I guess that conversation is over.
“Oh, it’s the video game that I’m developin’,” Bowen replies.
“What’s it about?”
Bowen eyes him suspiciously. “Do you actually want to know, or are you lookin’ for something else to tease me about?”
A small smile curls one side of Gunnar’s full mouth. He glances at Bowen in amusement. “You like it when I tease you, don’t deny it.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Bowen scoffs.
A little laugh escapes from Gunnar’s lips as he goes back to eating his food. “I’m actually curious about your game.”
Bowen's not surprised. Gunnar was always interested in his games. He would never admit that he secretly loved playing video games. He liked...still likes to tease Bowen about being a geek, but at heart, he's one too.
“Finish eating and I’ll show it to you.”
“Okay,” he agrees.
A few minutes later, when Gunnar’s done eating, Bowen scooches his chair closer to him and turns his laptop so that Gunnar can see the screen. He pulls up the game and explains to him which keys to push on the keyboard so that he can work it. Gunnar’s face lights up as he tugs the computer closer to him. See? Totally nerd.
“There are still some snags and glitches that need to be worked out, but you can play it,” Bowen tells him.
“Sweet!” Gunnar exclaims.
He hits the play button and waits as the opening dialogue tells the story of how zombies are taking over the Highlands of Scotland and that you need to join the elite Highland Guard to help save your country. A big grin envelops Gunnar’s face and his eyes dance with excitement. Bowen hopes everyone else who ends up playing the game looks and feels the same way about it.
Gunnar plays animatedly for a good half hour before he gets killed for the third time, which means you have to start the level over. He laughs, and it’s a freeing type of laugh that makes Bowen’s heart skip a beat. He misses that laugh.
“Oh man. That was fun.” He chuckles.
Bowen can’t help the proud smile that curls his lips. “Glad you liked it.”
Gunnar’s eyes land on Bowen’s. “You’re really talented, Bowen. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you,” Bowen replies, a bit breathier than he meant it to be.
His stomach flips as Gunnar continues to study his face. His smile fades as he leans in closer to Bowen. The next thing Bowen knows, Gunnar’s lips are on his and his hand is clutching the back of Bowen’s neck, keeping him close. Gunnar tilts his head, deepening the kiss by parting his lips, which Bowen instinctively follows. Gunnar’s tongue finds his, gliding along it as he keeps the kiss slow and sensual. A soft breathy moan escapes him, shooting a jolt of lust right to Bowen’s cock. What I wouldn’t give right now to have him naked and spread across the table.
Gunnar slowly pulls back, leaving Bowen with one last lingering kiss on the lips. His gorgeous hazel eyes search Bowen’s. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”
Bowen blinks as him
in absolute shock. He was not expecting an apology; he figured it would be forgotten. Gunnar wasn't a big fan of apologizing before. Maybe this is going to be a new thing for him, which is fine with Bowen.
“I’m sorry, too.”
Gunnar shakes his head, a soft smile pulling at his lips.
“You don’t need to be sorry. You were right, and I was a dick.”
“O-okay.”
“I’ll let you get back to work.” He grins and winks before getting up from the table to bring his plate into the kitchen.
Bowen is left dumbfounded. The many faces of Gunnar are forever surprising him.
***
“Man, I don’t know what to do with my hair.” Gunnar complains as he appears from the hallway after taking a shower.
It's the next day, they got back from a doctor's appointment and physical therapy about half an hour ago, and he went right into the bathroom to get cleaned up. The frown on his face is almost comical. He’s got his hat in his hand and he’s running his fingers along his scar.
“What’s wrong with your hair?” Bowen asks.
“Should I keep my head shaved, or should I let it grow out? I think if I grow it out, it’s gonna look funny with the scar,” he huffs, stopping to stand across the table from where Bowen is sitting.
“Hmm,” Bowen hums, considering what he said. “If you grow it long enough, it’ll cover the scar.”
“But I don’t think I want it long on the sides,” he says, his aggravation clear.
“So then shave it. You wear the hat all the time anyway.”
“To cover the scar,” he whines, slapping the hat against his thigh.
Bowen bites back a laugh. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with havin’ a scar on your head. Don’t be so vain.”
“I’m not vain,” he snarls. “I just don’t like people starin’ at me. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“I’ve told you this before, you should be proud of your scar. It proves how amazin’ you are. How you’re a survivor.” Bowen reminds him. Eyes locked on Gunnar’s, he continues, “Your scar is a part of you. It’s part of your story. Who cares if people stare? Let them stare. It’s mostly out of curiosity; they’re wonderin’ how you got it.”