I've Got You, Bro

Author’s Note: This chapter does not include a sex scene, but it is extremely important to the story.

CW/TW: Use of the f-slur and depictions homophobia-related violence.

The next morning, I’m standing at the stove, watching as a puddle of eggs set in a pan, waiting for the perfect time to flip the eggs into an omelet. I’m having a hard time focusing on what I’m doing, my mind reeling from yesterday’s events.

I don’t know how I feel about fucking Adonis and I’m wondering now about Alex’s motivation. He moves in, we start fooling around, then he brings home a naked man who’s literally a model, starts to have sex with me in front of him, then doesn’t bat an eye when he joins in.

Is this what is going to be like with Alex? What’s going to be next? Am I going to find myself on my knees in my living room in one week, getting gangbanged by twelve guys like I’m the bottom in a FraternityX video?

“Goddamn it,” I say as I try to flip the omelet and it breaks. Guess I’m having scrambled eggs for breakfast. I move to the other pan containing Alex’s omelet and, of course, it flips perfectly, retaining its shape. I roll my eyes, feeling annoyed.

“Oh, that shower was amazing,” I hear Alex say behind me. He walks up and wraps his arms around me, then kisses my neck. I can tell by the way his bare chest touches my bare back that he’s also naked. Part of me wanted to dress this morning, but I don’t want Alex to know there’s something wrong with me. He breaks away and I hear him making himself a cup of coffee as I tilt my scrambled eggs onto a plate and transfer his omelet onto another.

“You decided against an omelet?” he asks when I set the two plates down on the island and sit in the seat next to him.

“I broke mine,” I tell him, then take a sip of my coffee.

“Wow. I didn’t know you were capable of making a mistake in the kitchen,” he says, sounding amazed. “You can switch, if you want.”

I shake my head and stab a few pieces of scrambled eggs onto my fork, making sure to get some cheese, bacon, and tomato as well. It’s still good, even if it’s not an omelet.

We sit in silence, eating our breakfast. I just want to get out of the house as soon as possible. I don’t know why I feel betrayed by Alex, but I do. When he came to live here, I knew he had no other alternative and I’m happy to give him a place to stay, but our relationship has transformed. I still don’t know what I want out of this…whatever it is with Alex, but I thought I knew what he wanted. I thought he wanted me. What if I’m just some fuck buddy? And, if I am, why did he tell me he loves me?

“Are you okay?” Alex asks.

I nod, but I’m not. I should talk to him, but I don’t want to.

“Are you sure?”

I nod again.

“I’m just not very hungry I say,” looking down at the mostly uneaten food on my plate. “I’m going to get to work early.” I pick up my plate and still full cup of coffee and set them both in the sink before heading to my room and pulling on some clothes. I give Alex a quick kiss before I leave, not wanting him to think that whatever is wrong with me is about him, and leave the house.

I get in my car and start driving, but not towards work. I call up Ryan, my manager, and tell him I need the day off and that I’m really sorry. I tell him to call Matt, the other chef, because he owes me a favor. Matt is going to be pissed I didn’t give him any warning, but I don’t care about that. When Ryan hangs up the phone, I call Julian.

“What’s wrong?” Julian asks as soon as the line connects.

“How do you know there’s something wrong?” I ask.

“It’s, like, eight in the morning. You never call before noon unless you have tea to spill or you’re having a crisis, so which is it?”

“Crisis,” I tell him, sounding like a child caught in a lie.

“Is this a walk in the park and ask for advice about this mystery guy you’ve been sleeping with crisis, or a take shots at an inappropriate time to be drinking alcohol while talking shit on this mystery guy you’ve been sleeping with crisis?”

Goddamn it, Julian knew me too well. But which is it?

“Shots, please,” I say.

“You know where I live.”

“I love you, Julian. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Ten minutes later, I pull up to Julian’s apartment building, walk right up to 10A, and walk in the door without knocking.

Julian is sitting on the couch, a bottle of tequila on the coffee table, a full half gallon of pink lemonade waiting.

“You didn’t have to go to the store for me,” I say, but grab both bottles as soon as I sit down and take a shot all the same.

“Please, babe,” Julian says, rolling his green eyes at me. His platinum blonde hair is already perfectly quaffed, his eyes lined with light gold eyeliner that shines on his dark brown skin. “You rarely drink in the morning. I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t provide your favorite. Now, hand that over, and tell me about this guy you’ve been fucking without giving me so much as a crumb of detail.”

I hand him the bottle and take a deep breath. I know I should wait for him to finish taking a shot before I tell him, but I have to get it out before I chicken out.

“It’s Alex,” I say, then flinch back reflexively, as if Julian is going to do a spit take.

Instead, he grimaces at the tequila, takes a second swig of the lemonade, and looks at me, confused. “Alex who?”

“My stepbrother.”

“What about him?” Julian asks, perplexed.

“It’s him,” I say, emphasizing the last word.

Julian levels a stare at me, his head bent forward.

“You’re going to have to spell it out for me,” he says, “or I’m not going to believe you.”

“The man I’ve been sleeping with is Alex, my stepbrother.”

Julian’s mouth falls open into a perfect O. He sets the bottles down and slaps my arm.

“Oh, that’s dirty,” he says, scandalous.

“I know!” I groan, covering my face and sliding down his couch. “And, that’s not even the worst part.”

So I tell him everything, each of us taking several more shots. Alex moving in and us starting to fool around. Running into my mother. Alex’s rage on my behalf. Us having sex and him telling me that he loves me. That he’s had feeling for me for years. And about Adonis. About what us sleeping with him means for us.”

“And what if Alex doesn’t want a relationship anymore? What if we want different things?” I ask, my head swimming. “What if he doesn’t want to be with me, but he wants us to be swingers or something?”

“So you want to be in a relationship with him?” Julian asks.

I hadn’t even realized what I was saying it when I said it. Now that I had, I realize that, yes, I want a relationship with Alex. I don’t want us to sleep with other people. I don’t want us to swing. I want him. I want him and me and no one else.

“Yes,” I say.

“I swear, Zack,” Julian sighs, “I just don’t know what to do with you sometimes.” I look at him quizzically and he goes on. “You’re sitting here, pining over a guy who told you he loves you. You’re sitting here, with me, drinking, instead of talking to Alex about all of this.”

He was right, of course.

“Alex won’t even be at home,” I tell him. “He has work today.”

“Well, he’s going to be off sometime, right? Look, let’s go out for lunch and you can get a Lyft home. Alex can bring you by here to pick your car up when you’re sober.”

So Julian and I ordered a Lyft and spent a drunk morning/afternoon in St. Louis, stopping by bars and restaurants. I had originally intended to sober up before talking to Alex, who would get off work at two, but that didn’t exactly pan out.

By the time the Lyft pulls up to my house at 2:15, I’m drunk enough that I barely register how odd it is that the door isn’t locked. When I walk into the living room, I figure out why pretty quickly. Alex is sitting in the living room with a woman, both of them completely clothed. I can’t see the woman’s face, but I register a confused and slightly angry look on Alex’ face. I realize why he’s angry when my mother turns to face me.

“Hello, Zackary,” my mother says, looking at me where I’ve stopped in my tracks.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, able to tell how slurred my words are. My eyes dart back to Alex and I see concern on his face. He must wonder why I’m drunk.

“You’re drunk at two in the afternoon?” my mother asks, sticking her nose up in the air.

“That’s none of your fucking business,” I spit at her. The only indication that she cares about my rudeness is a quick, slight wrinkle in her nose.

“No,” she says, “I suppose it isn’t. Please, sit.” She indicates the spot next to Alex. I’m so taken aback by her politeness, I do as she asks, and sit next to Alex.

“We don’t care what you have to say,” Alex says to her. “There’s no excuse for the way you treated me, or the way you’ve treated Zack for the last two years.”

“I recognize that,” my mother says, “but…” she trails off, and looks up at the ceiling. There’s…there’s tears in her eyes.

I hate myself when my heart breaks for her. This woman has ignored my existence for the last two years and, the first time we met just days ago, she asked how her stepson was, not how I was. Why am I feeling sorry for her?

“What’s going on?” I ask. My mother looks at me. Really looks at me.

“I’m so sorry,” she says slowly, as if weighing every word. “I’m so sorry, Zack, for everything. I know I can probably never make up for what I did to you and to Alex, but I…” she trails off again and a tear actually slides down her face. “I want to try,” she finishes, her voice breaking.

“You can’t just come back after two years and expect to pick up right where you left off,” Alex says.

“I know that,” she replies, a disdainful edge to her voice.

“Why?” is all I can think to ask.

“You’re going to hate me even more for this answer,” she says to me. “Kicking you out wasn’t easy. I truly believed that, if you went out on your own, it would be a wakeup call of sorts. That you’d see the error of your…” she looks around as if the perfect word will be written on the walls, “…lifestyle, and would come home. However, when your father told me that you were doing well in culinary school, and that you had become an executive chef, and that you had bought this townhouse all on your own, I realized I was wrong. And I was too embarrassed to…to reach out to you. So, I focused all my attention on Alex. On righting my wrongs about you with him.”

“And the Mother of the Fucking Year Award goes too…” I say, trying to sound like an announcer at an award show.

“Zack,” Alex admonishes, seemingly as a reflex.

“No, no,” my mother says, “he’s right. I haven’t been a great mother. It wasn’t until Jack kicked you out, Alex, that I realized I’ve been wrong about everything. From the start. I know it might take some time, but I accept that you’re both…” she stops again, looking like she’s choking on the word, “gay.” She takes a deep breath.

My rage explodes. I stand up, and stare down at my mother, feeling the fire burning in my eyes.

“How dare you?” I ask. She stands too, holding her head up high, like she’s ready to take the tirade I’m about to throw at her. “Two fucking years!” I shout. She flinches. “Fuck you, Mom. Get the fuck out of my house. Oh, and another thing…” I bend over and kiss Alex, long and hard. He doesn’t exactly kiss me back, but he doesn’t pull away either. I take a satisfied look at the shocked expression on my mother’s face and, without another word, I stomp to my room and slam the door behind me.

The clean, soft sheets of my bed are cool against my warm skin. My face is flush and hot, the room spins around me. I don’t know how long I sit in the silence alone, but at some point, the door opens, Alex walks in, and he sits on the bed next to me.

“We really need to talk,” he says. I sit up and look at him.

“Are you mad at me?” I ask. He shakes his head.

“Nothing to be mad about. I don’t care if she knows about us. That’s not the way I would have told her about our relationship, but I’m not mad.” There’s a long silence between us before Alex adds, “She’s leaving my dad.” Then, as if he thinks I don’t understand he adds, “That means we won’t be stepbrothers anymore.”

Without saying anything else, he holds out a water bottle to me. I take it from him, twist off the cap, and as soon as the water hits my tongue, I can’t help but chug the entire thing down. It’s so cold, it burns my throat.

“What are we?” I blurt out. Alex furrows his brow, tilts his head to me. “I mean, what are we doing? Where is this going, this thing between us?”

“Where do you want it to go?” he asks.

“I…” I pause, steeling myself to say it to him for the first time. “I love you.” And I mean it. “I want to be with you, but I’m so confused."

Alex laughs and leans over, getting his face close to mine, his hand on my leg. “What is there to be confused about? What’s going on with you today? Why are you drunk?”

“I thought this was what people in their early twenties did,” I tell him, echoing what he told me a few days ago.

“Getting drunk and playing video games with your stepbrothe. Getting wasted and coming home to shout down your mother is another.”

“Why did you bring Beau here?” I ask, changing the subject and choosing not to say Adonis’s nickname. “You started to have sex with me, said he likes to watch, then we fuck him together. Where does that road lead? An orgy?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Alex says, pulling away from me. “You can’t seriously be blaming me for you fucking Beau. You made that decision all on your own.”

“What was I supposed to do? You pulled me on top of you and started making out with me.”

Alex stands up and strides into the middle of my room. Reflexively, I stand too.

“I gave you an out. I asked you if it was okay. Hell, Beau asked you if it was okay.”

“What was I supposed to say, Alex?”

“How about, ‘No,’ Zack? You could have said no. You’re a fully grown adult, nobody made you do anything you didn’t want to.”

“You went along with it, too. You bring this naked model into our house and start fooling around with me—”

“I didn’t bring him here to have sex with. But once everything started, I thought that’s what you wanted!” Alex says, cutting me off. “We both made sure it was okay with you. Beau asked your permission before doing anything to you.”

“I was caught up in the moment,” I say, not entirely sure if it’s true. “And why are you bringing naked people here, if not to have sex with them? It seemed like you brought him here for all of us to sleep together.”

“A lot of my friends practice casual nudity. Yeah, Beau and I have messed around before, but most of us don’t have sex when we hang out. We were following your lead.”

Another thought seems to hit Alex.

“Wait,” Alex interjects before I can form another cohesive argument. “Is this why you’ve been pining all day? Is this why you barely spoke to me at breakfast and left early for work, which you clearly didn’t go to today? Because you thought I seduced you to pimp you out to my friends?”

“I don’t know, Alex, I just want to be with you. I don’t want us to fuck other people.”

“Then you should have said something, Zack. I can’t believe you think I’d just use you like that.”

Alex turns and starts heading for my door.

“Where are you going?” I ask him, hearing the desperation in my voice. I don’t want him to leave. I want to explain, but my head is still spinning from the alcohol and I don’t even know what I’d say.

“I’m going to Beau’s,” he tells me. “And don’t worry. I’ll try to refrain from fucking him.”

And just like that, he’s gone, and I’m alone.

It’s hours until Alex comes back. So long that the sun has gone down. I’m sitting on the couch in the living room, the bottle of tequila he, Adonis, and I shared in front of me. A decent amount of it is gone.

“Can I have some?” Alex asks. I motion to it and he takes a chug. He sits in the armchair and we sit in silence for I don’t know how long. It’s Alex who breaks it.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“What’re you sorry about?” I ask him, taking the offered bottle from his hand.

“Our fight?” he says, the end of his sentence lilting up in a question.

I shrug and take a swig. I’ve been pacing myself, maintaining my drunk state throughout the day, but not letting myself get more drunk.

“Me too,” I say. “What’d Mom say when I stormed away?”

“That she deserved it. That she knows it’ll take you some time to come around to the idea, but that she’ll be here. She was shocked, but she also said she’s happy we found each other. I…” Alex pauses, studying me, “I think she means it.”

“I don’t know if I can forgive her, Alex,” I say, not missing how sad I sound. Truthfully, I am sad. I would have understood if she needed three months to cope with the fact that I’m gay. Hell, I’d have given her six months. But two years?

Alex gets up from the armchair and moves to sit next to me.

“Can we just forget about our fight, and move on?”

I look up into his eyes and smile. “Yeah,” I say, “I’d like that.”

He kisses me and a moment later, it becomes more passionate, full of unspoken words and unexplored feelings.

“You know,” I say, breaking apart for just a second, “this means we can have make up sex now.”

He smiles mischievously. “Oh yeah?” He moves in for another kiss, but stops short, a twinkle in his eye. “I don’t think having sex with a drunk man is very moral, do you?”

“I think that it’s okay if he’s your boyfriend,” I say, feeling my throat go suddenly dry.

“Is that what we are?” Alex asks. He’s always letting me set the pace. Alex has wanted this for years.

“It’s what I want to be,” I tell him.

“Then, as your boyfriend,” Alex says, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to have sex while you’re drunk.” He pats my cheek twice with this palm, annoying me. But kisses the tip of my nose, and it’s so adorable, I can’t stay annoyed at him. “How about I make us some food?”

It’s not sex, but I would love some food.

“That would be great,” I tell him. “I was going to make hamburgers tonight. They’re already seasoned and formed in the refrigerator. He smiles, kisses me, and heads into the kitchen. On his way, he scoops up the bottle of tequila and takes it with him, clearly intending to keep it out of my reach.

I lay down on the couch, drifting between wake and sleep until Alex pats my leg. I sit up as he sits a plate with a hamburger and fries on it on the coffee table.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom real quick,” he says. “Don’t wait for me to get started eating.”

Not needing to be told twice, I pick up my burger while he retreats down the hall.

I get exactly one bite swallowed when the front door bursts open. Shocked and wondering what the hell is going on, I stand up and see Jack in the frame. His face is red and he looks piss drunk.

“You!” he shouts, storming at me. He throws a left hook, which I step back from, but he lunges forward and buries a fist in my stomach before I can react, knocking the wind out of me. I start to double over, but Jack clamps his massive hands around my throat, squeezing like he’s trying to crush my neck, and shoves me against the wall.

“You fucking faggot,” he growls in my face, spittle landing on my skin. “You turned my son gay and now you’re fucking him? I’m going to fucking kill—”

Jack’s words were cut off as Alex wrapped his arm around Jack’s neck and tries to pull him off me. Alex plants one foot on the wall beside me and pulls, but Jack is too strong, too fueled by alcohol and adrenaline. My fingers scrabble for purchase on his hands, but his hands are too sweaty and clamped too tightly around my throat.

Alex is able to pull Jack back, a bit, but I come with him and Jack uses the space created between me and the wall to slam my head against the it once, twice, three times. Stars explode in my head as Alex shouts my name.

My eyes find his as my visions starts to go black.