Chapter 35
Tilian
Many times, I’d claimed to hate my life. Generally, it was because of minor inconveniences. All of the toilets being clogged in the bathroom on my floor. A surprise test on a Friday. Being excited to take a long hit from my pen after a rough day only to realize it was empty.
Now, those things felt even more trivial.
I didn’t have a normal relationship with my stepbrother. I had a weird relationship with him.
He’d been an asshole to Alex from the start of our parents’ relationship and he was a bit of a bully to me, which had been a new and terrible experience. Even though I was sort of weird, I’d never been harassed by people at school or anywhere else. I was the guy who wasn’t part of the popular crowd, but nobody had an issue with me and if we were in the same room, someone would strike up a casual conversation, regardless of what group they belonged to. I got invited to big parties as if we were all friends, but not to anything more personal. They’d greet me in the hall, but if you asked, I doubted a single one of those people would remember my name.
It was the late 2010s when I was in high school. For the most part, nobody gave a shit that I was gay. I’d never hidden it. The little rebel in me flaunted it proudly and didn’t give two shits.
Roman was the only one who treated me like I was a problem. He always acted like I was trying to check him out and told the guys in youth group that I tried to suck his dick. I didn’t, but teenagers loved to latch onto gossip. Still, I never let it get me down. If someone didn’t like me, I was happy to flash them my middle fingers and fuck right off.
Escaping him wasn’t really an option. He was Miranda’s son, so we saw each other a lot once she started dating my dad. I loathed him and I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I’d researched the logistics of trapping someone in a shipping container that would be at sea long enough to snuff him out.
Miranda got on his ass for his behavior, but he remained a little shit, just not around her. I wasn’t going to run to her or my dad to whine about him being a dick, so we just remained enemies.
After my dad’s views about my sexuality and Alex’s gender incongruence shifted, many in his congregation followed suit to varying degrees. Some left his church because of it. A lot of changes happened, but Roman continued to be an asshole.
Then, the wedding came around. I still wasn’t entirely sure how it happened, but when Roman pissed me off that day, I rose to meet his challenge. We were both sixteen- too old to be continuing that fuckery. We argued, he called me a degenerate, I told him he was just jealous that nobody would suck his dick, then we fucked in the bridal suite.
Yeah, that made shit really awkward. Even afterward, he didn’t stop his bullshit. We’d fight for months, then end up screwing again. It went on until we graduated and headed to separate colleges.
I never had feelings for the bastard and didn’t even think about it when it was over. The whole thing gave me a sense of satisfaction because I came out on top every time despite his alleged disgust.
As Roman headed toward me, I crossed my arms over my chest. We’d seen each other a total of two times since our high school graduation and never said more than a few words in greeting. He hadn’t approached me like this before and I was extremely tempted to make him regret it.
Then again, he was huge. It was obvious that he’d packed on muscle since he’d been gone and I wouldn’t put it past him to throw a punch like the toxic, self-proclaimed alpha male that he was.
“Hey, Tilian,” he said casually.
“Roman. If I knew you’d been invited, I would’ve set up explosives in the driveway.”
“You’re still as lovely as ever, I see.”
“And what about you? Still afraid you’ll get AIDS by being close to me or have you finally come to terms with your raging desire for cock?”
His lips thinned and his brows drew down. The angry expression made me want to push him more, but it was my brother’s birthday party and I didn’t want to cause an actual fight. Just a little pushing, then.
“Listen,” I said, stepping forward. “It’s Alex’s day and I’m not gonna let anyone ruin it for him.”
“And how would you stop me?” he taunted with a smirk.
“Maybe I’ll suddenly recall all the times when you crawled into my bed at night, desperate to fuck me.” His rage boiled just under the surface, bleeding through the cracks in his expression. “Or, even better, that time you begged me to stick my dick in your ass and you bit a hole through my pillow when I introduced you to your prostate.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” he said through gritted teeth.
I shrugged. “You know that I’m not afraid to be the family disappointment. You’re the one who’s terrified of anyone knowing about the deviant things you do in bed. Do you still do them, Roman?”
He let out a controlled breath through his nose. “I’m not gonna fucking ruin Alex’s party. I wouldn’t do that. Didn’t you see? I even brought him a gift.”
It was hard to hide my surprise when he didn’t call him ‘she’ or ‘Alexis’ like he usually did. Still, I didn’t trust him. I wished I had a more intimidating presence, but hopefully, the threat of being outed about our past would be enough to keep him compliant.
“Sprite,” Brooks said from behind me.
He appeared at my side and passed me the bottle. There was tension in the air as he took in Roman. As a master of peeling away people’s skin, I could only imagine what Brooks was seeing right now. To anyone else, Roman looked like a douchebag. I wondered if he could tell that he was worse than that.
Brooks held out his hand. “Brooks. What’s your name?” Roman went to shake it, but Brooks dropped his back to his side and threaded his fingers through mine. “Sorry. I’m a bit of a germaphobe and you’re clearly infected with the ick.”
Roman’s eyes flitted to our hands, then back to my face. “Friend of yours?”
“Boyfriend,” Brooks answered for me. That wasn’t a move I liked.
“This is my stepbrother, Roman,” I said. “Don’t mind him. He was on his way to wish my brother a happy birthday and try to convince the world that he’s not a piece of shit.”
Roman huffed and shook his head before he marched away. I watched him carefully as he talked to Alex, who looked a little awkward. Only when he retreated to another part of the room did I relax.
“What’s the deal there?” Brooks asked.
“Meh. He’s what happens when repression becomes hostility.”
“Why does he keep looking at you?”
My nose wrinkled when I realized that he was right. “There’s history. None that I care about.”
“Seems like he still does.”
Turning, I brushed my fingers through his hair. The way his eyes softened made him look so much more beautiful.
“Maybe you’ll just have to fight him to stake your claim.”
He laughed lightly. “I’ve never fought anyone before. Plus, he’s a fucking tank and I’m strongly against setting myself up for failure. And damaging these god-like cheekbones.” With a thoughtful hum, he pulled out his phone.
“What are you doing?”
Discreetly- or maybe not so discreetly considering the way Roman’s eyes narrowed- Brooks snapped a picture of him. I watched as he sent it to a group chat with a message that made me laugh out loud.
Brooks: On a scale of 1 to 100, how confident are you that you could fight him?
West: Who’s that?
Brooks: Answers now. Jealousy later, baby.
Kai: Does he deserve a kick to the nuts?
Sen: Look what you started, Brooks.
West: I throw a solid punch and need an outlet.
Brooks: You have an outlet. A sneaky linc, one might say.
*Link*
Damn autocorrect
West: Brooks is having a stroke.
Sen: Kai’s scarier than you, West.
West: Blasphemy. It unnerves people when I crack a joke while I crack their teeth.
Kai: I can’t anymore. Can I borrow your balcony, Brooks? I’ve been meaning to see if I can fly.
*Brooks added Tilian to the chat*
Sen: OMG does this mean something?
West: It’s not FB official, so he obv doesn’t like him enough.
*Tilian sent an image*
Sen: THEY’RE KISSING, WEST.
Kai: He’s lost his air of mystery. How sad. It was the only thing keeping him interesting.
West: 89.52/100 on the kicking that douche’s ass scale
Brooks glanced at me. “Welcome to the chaos. Want out yet?”
“Why would I?”
My neck prickled and when I looked up, I found Roman watching us sans his angry expression. I could only describe his current one as pained. As soon as he noticed, he narrowed his eyes.
Jesus. The guy needed therapy to work out his issues. I despised him, but it was sad to see someone so burdened by fear. Everyone deserved to live openly and, in my opinion, even someone like him could have a redemption arc.
I was sure it would take a hell of a lot to get him there. Maybe he needed a really good, dedicated man to guide him into the light.
A really, really, really good man who has the capacity to deal with all of his shit. He needed a Cassian to his Nesta.
*****
“Fuck, I forgot a hair tie,” Brooks grumbled. He paced across the deck and held his hair off his neck. It wasn’t warm out, but something about it was bothering him.
“It looks sexy,” I noted, leaning my hands back from my place on the steps.
He dropped down beside me with a growl. “I’m just gonna cut it all off.” I glared at him. “Jesus, okay, okay. Not gonna do that. There’s a hair tie around here somewhere, right?”
“Nope. This is a hair tie-less house.”
“Bullshit.”
“Tell me why it makes you so uncomfortable and I’ll get you one.”
“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”
Taking his hand, I squeezed it. “No lies.”
“I’ve always had to put it up.” He leaned his head on my shoulder and tucked his face into my neck. “My mom always says people make first judgments based on appearance and this doesn’t fit our image.”
“Their image. You’re your own person.”
“I’m an extension of them.”
“I don’t accept that, but I won’t push it right now.”
“It’s also about being attached to it,” he went on. “It’s stupid, but the more I get used to it being down and the more I like it, the harder it’ll hit when it’s gone.”
The only thing that kept me from repeating my opinion about that was timing. Simple words weren’t going to change anything, but making him comfortable in his skin would. Feeding him assurances and filling his empty spaces with love and acceptance would.
When I met his parents, I was going to have a hard time liking them. They made someone beautiful question his identity and self-worth. They treated him like patchwork, removing pieces of him and trying to replace them with attributes they thought were better, to turn him into a carbon copy of them. Somehow, they were too delusional to see that he wasn’t flawed. They were.
“I’ll get you a hair tie,” I said.
He stood and pulled me up with him. Cupping my jaw, he kissed me tenderly.
“I don’t need it. It looks like they’re bringing out the presents.”
We entered the house just as Alex tore into a large, wrapped box.
“You should join your dad,” Brooks suggested. “He looks lonely.”
“He always looks like that.”
“He thinks you hate him.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“Maybe not hate, but he asked me a lot of questions about how you’re doing. He doesn’t think you’ll respond if he reaches out.”
With a frown, I looked over at my dad. “I always answer his messages.”
Brooks pinched my chin. “Not everybody can hear the things that you don’t say out loud, baby. He doesn’t understand you, but he wants to.”
“Maybe he should say that, then.”
“Would you?”
Not waiting for an answer, he nodded toward the wall where my dad was leaning. I took a deep breath before I joined him.
“Hey,” I said. “The party seems like it’s going well.”
He grunted his agreement. “Alex is having fun. That’s the important thing.”
“Maybe we can convince him to clean up too.”
“If you manage that, I’ll give you the house. He’s too much like you to listen.”
I laughed as I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah. Uh, must run in the blood. If you… ever need help with him or… I don’t know, for me to take him out for the day or even a weekend so you and Miranda can do something, you can always ask. I know he’s thirteen, but I wouldn’t trust him not to get into some shit on his own.”
He glanced at me briefly. “Like when you were fifteen.”
“I did nothing.”
“We left you alone for one night and the neighbors called to tell us you took Marshall for a joy ride.”
Biting my lip, I shrugged. “You wouldn’t get me my own horse and he looked lonely. Really, it was his fault.”
He surprised me by chuckling. “When me and your mom decided to have kids, I didn’t expect to get you.”
“Would you have wrapped it up if you knew?”
“No, I would have made sacrifices like Abraham and pray that it earned me God’s mercy.”
“He also almost sacrificed Isaac, so maybe we can avoid the altars and all that.”
“So, you did pay attention in church once in a while.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You made me read the Bible for an hour every time I got in trouble. Pretty sure I got through it a few times.”
“A few times a year,” he joked.
Alex opened an envelope with an Xbox gift card and clutched it to his chest like it was made of gold. Shifting on my feet, I looked at my dad.
“Sorry I don’t come around enough. It’s not that I don’t want to and I know that Miranda invites me, but…” I took a deep breath and fought the urge to retreat into my shell of silence. Maybe an analogy would help. “You know how vampires work, right?”
He looked at me with a raised brow. “Sure.”
“Cool, so I’m like that. I’m a major night owl, the sun is my enemy because you passed on your super pale genes, I’m rarely seen by people, and I have to be explicitly invited in.”
“I don’t understand where you’re going with this.”
“Fuck.”
“Tilian,” he scolded.
“Shit, sorry.”
He sighed, probably remembering that I was hopeless. I grimaced and considered grabbing the cake knife to cut out my tongue so that I’d stop making things weird. I much preferred being my problematic self, but Brooks’ words had shocked me and I wanted to fix it.
“You don’t invite me,” I said quickly.
He turned fully to face me, which didn’t help. I stared at his shoulder, dreading the inevitable eye contact he’d want to make.
“We invite you all the time. Once a week.”
“Miranda does. You don’t.” Swallowing hard, I finally looked up at him. “I just assume that you don’t really care either way.”
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my son.”
“Yeah, but… I’m me. Your wild child, as mom used to say. A… problem.”
“You are a problem,” he agreed, then he smiled. “You wouldn’t be you otherwise. Nothing about you takes away from how much I love you.”
“Really?”
“Of course. You were older when your mother left and I think I made the mistake of spending more time trying to make sure Vi and Alex were okay. You’ve always chosen to take care of yourself and do your own thing. Me and you have butt heads a lot, but Tilian, if we hadn’t, we might not be where we are right now. I might have never learned who Alex is and accepted that he isn’t broken. You were the one who forced us to open our eyes to so many things. That’s who you are- fearless and willing to fight for the things that you believe in, the things that are right.”
My eyes watered and I had to look away. I found Brooks staring at me from across the room. He offered me a smile that might’ve made me more emotional.
My dad nodded toward him. “Miranda won’t stop talking about him. He’s good. Better than the other boyfriends you’ve brought home.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Most of them were to piss you off.”
“Oh, I know. That’s why I was never nice to them.”
“I thought it was because they were guys.”
“You have to learn to stop thinking the worst.”
“And you need to be super direct or I’ll jump to conclusions and assume that you hate me.”
“How about this. Once a month, you come here for the day. And we’ll come up there to see you once a month. We won’t have to harass you about visiting and you don’t have to wonder if we want you here.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
“And bring Brooks or Miranda might poison your food.”
I smiled as I watched Alex grab the gift from Brooks. I didn’t know what it was since he’d refused to tell me, the ever mysterious bastard. My eyes widened when Alex pulled out a drone that definitely didn’t come from Walmart.
“It has a camera!” he shouted.
“God help us,” my dad muttered.