Twin Ties 1: My Brother's Lover (12 page)

He stood, wanting to bolt from the room. Brennan stepped in his path and stared hard into Evan’s eyes.

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?!” Evan barked.

He infused the outburst with as much anger and coldness as he could manage, but it didn’t have the desired effect. Brennan wasn’t put-off at all. He actually stepped closer and softened. Hooking his arms under Evan’s and around his back, Brennan wrapped him in a gentle hug—their third hug, not that Evan was counting or anything. His face pressed gently against the side of Evan’s face and Brennan whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Evan’s arms hung limp and he blinked rapidly to clear his eyes. Every complicated feeling that rose to the surface was pushed immediately back through sheer force of will, out of self-preservation.

“I’m sorry,” Brennan repeated, pressing his lips against Evan’s jaw, hissing the words. “I don’t want to lose you. I just got you back. I’ve lost too much already.”

Evan’s expression crumpled as it became too much for him—the kindness and caring, the realization that Brennan needed him already—but Brennan didn’t see. Tensing more rather than relaxing, Evan fought not to give in to the urge to hug Brennan back and said, “Wow, you sure do like to hug a lot, don’cha?”

Brennan rolled his eyes and stepped back, releasing him. “You’re family. I’m allowed to hug you.”

“Is that so?” Evan challenged, his lips pursed with determination. Brennan’s gaze slid down from Evan’s eyes to his mouth and for a dizzying split second, just a split second, Evan was sure Brennan was going to kiss him.

Do brothers kiss each other? Is that something that people do? I know hugging is fine, but kissing?

He wracked his brain, sifting through everything he’d observed of other families, his eyes widening a little in startled uncertainty.

“You’re cute,” Brennan grinned.

“Shut up,” Evan frowned. “That’s a really weird thing to say.”

“It’s true. You come off so tough, but you’re not so tough, are ya, Evan?”

“Clearly,” Evan retorted.

Brennan’s small smile disappeared. He pressed lips together and folded his arms. “Is this why Charlie wanted me to move in with you? He’s worried about you?”

Evan huffed, folds his arms too, mirroring Brennan perfectly without intending to. “No. Moving in was your idea. And he agreed because he was worried about
you
.”

“How could it have been my idea? You really think I’d just invite myself to live here?”

The words sank in, and the more they did, the more disturbed Evan became by what they implied. Brennan quickly added, “Maybe he’s worried about both of us.”

He thinks I’m going to do it again. He sent Brennan here to make sure I don’t try to kill myself. He doesn’t think I’m getting better. He thinks I’m getting worse. Am I getting worse?

Evan’s chest heaved and he blinked more as his vision blurred. He focused on a spot on the wall just to the right of Brennan’s head and sighed. “Can we just, um... I mean, I hate this shit.”

Brennan nodded, saying nothing. They each took a seat, lost in their own thoughts in silence.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly. Eventually, Brennan spoke up.

“Did you want him to do all of that? Charlie? Did you really want the eye surgery and the car and everything, or was he just trying to change you?”

Staring at Brennan, at first Evan couldn’t answer. “I don’t... I don’t know. I mean, I knew there was stuff wrong with me, so I was fine with it all. It was good to get rid of my glasses and I dug the car and, I don’t know.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Evan,” Brennan told him softly. “If he made you feel like there was stuff wrong with you, that’s awful. You didn’t need to be fixed by changing what you looked like or taking you out of school, away from people who could have been your friends, or trying to toughen you up so you wouldn’t leave him. Haven’t you thought about this stuff? Charlie doesn’t know you better than you know yourself. It’s your life; you should be making the decisions about it. You’re strong and beautiful, and perfect, just the way you are. You should know that. Don’t let anyone try to change you. Not even him.”

Evan was looking down at his hands and Brennan’s words washed over him. Some of the message behind them sank in, but some didn’t process at all. He was unable to believe Brennan thought that highly of him, that he was beautiful and perfect. It didn’t make sense. If anything, he was just saying what he thought he should say, not what he really meant.

Just needing to shift the focus off of him, Evan asked, “Have you talked to him? Charlie?”

Brennan cocked an eyebrow, cleared his throat. “No. He’s left messages, but....”

Cracking a tiny smile, Evan bowed his head to hide it. Maybe they were twins after all.

“But what?”

“I don’t know,” Brennan sighed. “I haven’t been in the mood to talk to him. Don’t really know what to say to someone I’ve never met.”

“Well, I don’t know what to say to him either and he’s been my only kin my whole life. So there ya go,” Evan offered. He shuffled his feet and mustered some courage. “So, w-what was she like?”

Brennan slouched back into the cushions. “Honest. Or at least honest about most things. Obviously she knew how to keep a secret, too. Hard worker. Quiet. Sad. Treated me like I was all that really mattered. Every day was a gift to her. The little moments were what she liked. Money, possessions, status—none of that was worth anything to her. She was a great mom. She tried to make a good life for us. She had the best smile. It made her whole face light up. And she smelled like lilacs.” Expelling a rough breath, he complained, “God this sucks. Why did this happen? Why did any of this happen? Why couldn’t we just have been a family? Or normal? Nothing makes sense anymore.”

“For what it’s worth,” Evan said in his low, gruff voice. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Brennan peeked up, and grunted, “Huh.”

“Huh?” Evan mimicked. “That gets a
huh
?”

Brennan broke into laughter. “I’m sorry,
thank you
, Evan,” he said melodramatically, with dripping sarcasm.

“Jesus Christ,” Evan sighed, shaking his head and standing. “I need a fuckin’ beer.”

As Evan walked back into the kitchen, Brennan watched him go while chewing on his thumbnail. The instinct to soothe, learned from caring for Maggie, kicked in sometimes when Brennan was with Evan. He wanted to care for Evan in ways he’d never wanted to care for anyone before, because it wasn’t about sickness or anything temporary. Echoes of how it felt to be with his mom shook Brennan gently when he was around Evan, but it was different. It was like Evan was something Brennan had needed, had been missing, and needed now to continue on. He wouldn’t make it without Evan. Now that Brennan sensed it, how being with Evan made him feel more whole than he’d ever been before, he realized, slowly, how to ever be apart from Evan would only magnify the empty place Evan filled up. They were part of each other. They belonged together. Maybe if they’d always been together, some of the worst things in their lives would never have happened.

The need to hold on to Evan, to keep him as close as possible, kicked in strongly for Brennan. And he meant it when he said Evan was beautiful. Sometimes Brennan couldn’t stop looking at him, even when he tried. The similarity, the weird sense that when Brennan helped Evan, he also helped himself, since Evan was an extension of him, underlined the unmistakable desire to extend kindness and love to him. But Evan was still a mystery. He didn’t feel like a brother, or even a distant relative. He felt like Evan. Beautiful, heartbroken, quiet, sad, strong, wonderful Evan.

If all Brennan needed was someone to care about, someone to love, Evan was someone who needed love, validation, and a sense of belonging in his life. And that Brennan could give him. They were like two pieces to a puzzle. They fit together in all of the right ways, or so Brennan was beginning to see.

It was the night of Brennan and Luka’s first date. Sitting at a small table tucked away in a corner of one of the nicest restaurants in town, the only illumination by which to see each other and eat their meal was from the candle flickering between them and the dim golden light from a decorative hanging lamp above. It was quiet and comfortable. They dined on fish—the freshest in the area—accompanied by a nice sparkling cider for Brennan and some wine for Luka.

Luka did most of the talking at first, his mouth running on with nervous energy at the intoxicating sight of Brennan in glasses and dressed to impress. Brennan was wearing a blue striped button-down shirt, ironed perfectly smooth and fitted to his lean frame, the crisp sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The top button was undone at the collar, revealing a small triangle of lightly freckled, golden skin. Unable to stop remembering the sight of Brennan in his miniscule pair of shorts, his body tight and toned, Luka helplessly undressed Brennan with his eyes throughout their dinner. He tried to let his natural chattiness drag his thoughts out of the gutter and back to polite conversation.

“So,” Luka said, taking a sip and letting the heady, sweet taste of the white wine roll over his tongue, “What brings you to Whippoorwill? It’s not exactly the most glamorous place to move to, and if you came all the way from Louisiana, that’s quite a haul.”

“Is my accent really that bad?” Brennan grinned, swallowing his mouthful of food and washing it down with a drink from his own glass.

“Bad? No. Sexy as hell? Yes,” Luka winked. “And you’re avoiding my question.”

“It’s just a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” Luka prodded, pleading shamelessly with his eyes. “Try me.”

Brennan nodded once, almost in surrender. Sitting with his hands folded in his lap, he straightened a little and said softly, “Okay. Well it’s only fair for you to know this anyway. I’ve not really been myself lately, so in the interest of full disclosure I should probably come clean. But I’m not looking for pity or expecting anything of you. I mean, we just met. I honestly didn’t even want to say anything in case it made things too weird.”

Luka’s tensed and braced himself. Brow furrowed, he sat forward, leaning in. He reached out and took Brennan’s hand when it skirted the table’s edge, claiming it and holding on to him. “What’s the matter? What is it?” It was the nervous edge in Brennan’s voice as much as his words that worried Luka.

“Well, okay. I was raised by my mom. She was a single mother, my only real family and my best friend. It was always just the two of us against the world.”

Brennan didn’t move, didn’t look up. Luka’s thumb stroked lightly, gently back-and-forth over the back of his hand. Sighing, Luka echoed a single word, “...Was....”

“She died a few weeks ago. Breast cancer.”

“Brennan,” Luka ached. “My god. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t,” Brennan objected. “Don’t. Please. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I just want to enjoy our dinner and your company. I don’t want this to be about that. So, to answer your initial question, I moved here because I just found out that I have relatives here.”

“That’s a good reason to come,” Luka agreed, full to bursting with concern and sorrow. His grip on Brennan’s hand tightened slightly.

Looking resigned, Brennan quietly suggested, “Look, if you want to call this off, I totally understand. I’m not exactly good company right now. Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“No,” Luka said determinedly. “No way. I think you’re great company and we’re not calling it off. I like you. I want to get to know you better. Talk to me. I’m a good listener.”

“Honestly, talking isn’t what I’m interested in right now,” Brennan said, finishing off his cider. Pushing the elegant crystal goblet away, he grabbed the napkin from his lap and asked, “What do you say we get out of here and go back to my place?”

“Is that a good idea?” Luka asked, knowing Alek would be flabbergasted to hear Luka question such an offer.

“I might be young, but I’m old enough to know what I want,” Brennan retorted. “What do you say? Wanna keep me company?”

“Yeah. You know I do,” Luka admitted, logically wanting to say no for Brennan’s sake, but wholly unable to.

“Good. C’mon. Let’s go.”

Luka drove them in his truck over to Brennan’s place. It took about ten minutes to make the trip, during which Luka tried to think of ways to get out of the situation he found himself in. As soon as they were out of the truck and he had Brennan ready and willing in front of him, there was going to be very little chance he would be able to stop at that point. His trademark lack of willpower would kick in and he would do what was easy, and what felt good. Usually, Luka wouldn’t even question it. It would hardly occur to him that there might be alternate choices. He’d be all about hooking up just to hook up. Brennan was a sure thing, he said as much, and why wouldn’t Luka go for that?

But something
had
caused Luka to begin to rethink his approach. Something....

Brennan’s mother. Brennan lost his mother and now he’s all alone. He has no one, not even someone like Alek to watch his back. He’s just a kid; a scared kid needing some kind—any kind—of physical comfort to dull the hurt eating him up from the inside out. Even if it’s sex, even if it’s sex with a stranger, even if it’s not really what Brennan wants, even if it gets to the point of no return where it’s too late to say stop and he
says
stop, please don’t hurt me, please stop... and it happens anyway... Brennan is going to do this. He’s going to go out looking for someone to make him feel, to fill the cold, desolate emptiness inside where unconditional love should be and isn’t in any way he can manage.
I’ve gotta stop this. I can’t let it happen to him, too. I just can’t. I’d never forgive myself if I enabled this or worse, turned my back when Brennan is so clearly crying out for help. Where would I have been if Alek hadn’t been there for me? Would I even be here right now?