The aftermath of selfishness
My feelings are more important than yours
Drop dead
I don't care
I won't worry
-- The Strokes, Razorblade
Logs cracked in the fire; their shadows three long lines across the camping site. Laith held Ryan by the neck, fingers digging into the skin, up in the air. Hands clawed at his arm in Ryan’s desperate attempt to escape, but they knew that if they let him go, he’d simply turn around and shoot Laith in the back of the head. The handgun in his jacket was loaded.
In the quiet of the night, Laith tossed Ryan into the redacted’s mouth. It was an act of self-preservation just as much as it was cold-blooded murder.
Emily cried in her bedroom—she’d attended Ryan’s funeral that morning—while Justin smoked a fat blunt in his truck. They hadn’t told anyone what they’d done, framing the attack as an accident; after all, Ryan should’ve watched his step. Sherry knew that, and delighted by the news, decided against telling the authorities. Instead, she sat in Theodore’s lap and kissed him on the mouth.
***
He woke up in the warmth of Laith’s body, holding him like a pillow, his head nestled on a firm bicep—Laith had moved throughout the night. The curtains softened some of the sun’s brightness, but its intensity was still there, thin shadows cast across the sheets. It must be late in the afternoon. He would’ve checked, but his watch wasn’t on his wrist. It must’ve come off last night, despite his inability to remember that. In his defense, far more important things had happened then. His mind promptly wandered to when Laith had first pressed against him—a feeling he’d never forget, body shivering with the memories. They could do it again.
His hand traveled down Laith’s back and pulled him closer, face buried into big tits, heart punching him in the throat. Kisses littered Laith’s pecs, hand squeezing his ass, surprisingly firm—would he wake up from this? Hopefully in a good mood, though Theodore couldn’t think of a reason for the opposite. It seemed to him that waking up smothered in kisses must be the best way to do it.
In a momentary lapse of self-control, he bit Laith’s pec, but similar to how Laith had bit him the night before, not intended to hurt. That prompted a deep breath into Laith’s lungs, body stirring a bit, even if still not completely awake. How far could he push this? His affection trailed up Laith’s neck next, hips pushed together, held in place by a hand. He used it for support to grind against him, blood warm in his veins, ecstasy clouding his brain. A hand touched his hair, indicative of Laith’s regained consciousness.
“Can I top you?” he asked, his voice a breathy whisper.
“Sure.”
***
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***
Every day could start like this.
Holding Laith by the jaw, he pulled away, eyes meeting out of instinct. Was it Laith that followed his lead, or were they simply dancing to the same song? It got to a point that their synchrony had become too perfect to be the result of conscious effort, never faltering, never missing a beat. If they were at a bar, they’d be reaching for the same drink. Now he understood what Laith had meant by saying he’d been thought up inside his head.
“Did you mean what you said last night?”
“What part?” Laith asked.
“When you told me about Ryan. You said he wasn’t worth it.”
Laith tensed up beneath him, eyes glancing off to break the stare. “I really don’t remember anything I said.”
He scowled, noose dropping around his neck. “What do you remember?”
Shoulders rolled into a careless shrug. Laith touched him on the arm, making to leave, still avoiding his eyes. Absently, Theodore moved aside.
“Fucking.” Hopping out of bed, Laith directed his speech to the rest of the room. The brightness that filtered in through the curtains, regardless of sunlight, glowed beautifully over his muscles. With his back turned, he hesitated. “I remember thinking you were the best I’ve ever had.”
Theodore’s heart broke. What about choosing him over Ryan? What about liking him a little too much? At the bar, when Laith had touched his face and kept his thoughts private, would they have been another forgotten confession? The air around him was cold.
Without a word, he got out of bed and crossed the room. Laith’s footsteps trailed behind him at a much slower pace, never actually catching up to him. In the bathroom, he turned around to find Laith in the sitting area with clothes over an arm. As soon as their eyes met, he shut the door.
Fuck. God, he was such a fucking idiot. Why had he believed in the words of a drunk? Laith had been way too wasted; of course he wouldn’t remember anything. His hands found the sink, weight pressed on them, fingers grabbing the edge. The drain below trembled, eyes filling up with tears. He’d done the one thing he’d told Sherry he wouldn’t, and now, just as promised, it’d come back to bite him. The way Laith had looked at him while baring his chest open had made it practically impossible for him not to internalize it. His eyes burned, face warm. He wished Laith hadn’t said anything at all.
A knock on the door pulled him back, head rising with his attention. In the mirror, he saw a tear run down his cheek. He looked pathetic.
“Theo?” Laith’s voice hurt like a stab.
Hesitantly, he turned to glance at the door. “Yeah?”
“See you downstairs in twenty?”
It was hard to tell just how long he’d spend in here, but the timestamp probably didn’t matter much; it was the promise of seeing each other again. His hands squeezed the sink, breath uneven.
“Okay.”
Muffled footsteps walked away from the door. For some reason, that closed a fist around his throat and twisted his face with anguish, bottom lip trembling. If Laith cared about him so much, then why did it feel like he didn’t? If he was deserving of so much good, then why was he only met with hatred?
A sob escaped his lips, squeezed out through a lump. He could feel the world begin to slip away again, wobbly at the edges, curling into a big mouth. Idiot. How could he have been so gullible? Nobody in this house liked him. No one here wanted to have any involvement with him, Ryan’s annoying little brother. In the end, he didn’t really have anyone. The fact that his mother was his best friend while he wasn’t hers in return spoke volumes about him. Even then, she probably only loved him because she had to.
The shower provided him with no comfort. Clean and dressed, without a single trace of Laith left on his body, he climbed down the stairs, his bag swung over a shoulder.
First, he saw Laith, smoking by a window, turned all the way around so his back faced the rest of the room. Theodore’s footsteps made very little noise, but Laith still passed him a glance, briefer than any he’d ever seen, the quickest acknowledgement of his presence ever. There was no time for him to even attempt to read Laith’s face, though that alone spoke for itself, that once again he wasn’t welcome. They’d agreed to meet up in twenty minutes—had something changed? Had he taken too long?
At the bottom of the stairs, he saw the bar, fully surrounded by Ryan’s friends, who spoke loudly to each other while nursing their own drinks. It was three in the afternoon. He couldn’t hear enough of their talk to deduce what it was about, because as soon as they caught sight of him, the conversation died.
Emily stood up, speaking first. “Theo, where did you sleep?”
His eyebrows quirked. Fleetingly, he passed Laith a glance.
“Did you sleep in the master bedroom?” she continued.
Oh shit, was he in trouble?
“Yeah.” That word left him so quietly that, for a moment, he doubted it’d even existed.
“Where was Laith?”
“Was Laith with you?”
Emily and Ryan spoke over each other, both staring at him with big, wide eyes. So he wasn’t in trouble for having taken Justin’s dad’s room; it was just this shit again. God, how many times would he have to live through it?
His eyes rolled. “Yes, he was; we slept together.”
Wait, they could take that out of context; better spell it out so they’d never ask him again.
“We fucked on the double bed, last night and again this morning. Justin, I’m really sorry; I’ll help you change the sheets. I’ll clean up, I promise.”
That last part was a genuine apology. If he’d invited friends for a party and later found out that two had desecrated his parents’ bed, he’d probably never invite them to a sleepover again.
The room watched him in silence, petrified with shock.
“Laith.” His name trembled in Emily’s mouth.
She didn’t have to say anything else for him to walk over to her, feet practically dragging on the floorboards. The way he turned around made it impossible for Theodore to see his face, though Theodore doubted he would’ve been able to read it even if he’d gotten a chance to. Similar to what had happened before, the two crossed the room for the front door, probably to talk on the porch again.
“It’s fine,” Justin spoke up from the corner, hand waving in the air. “Don’t worry about it.”
Next to him, Ryan held his head with fingers digging into his hair and shock written all over his face, desolation deep into the brown of his eyes. Theodore had never seen him like that. If he was being very honest with himself, it felt good to see it; his lungs breathed in deep and his chest grew warm with pride. Finally, he’d flipped the dagger around and stabbed Ryan for a change. Part of him wanted to take this as an improvement, that from this day forward, Ryan would stop being so possessive over his friends and let Theodore hang out with them too, but the truth was that he’d probably only made things worse. He felt big and powerful for about three whole seconds until the realization of what he’d done hit him like a bat in the head. Ryan must fucking hate him.
“Oh my god, we lost,” Ryan murmured, eyes fixed on the counter, or more accurately, lost within the chaos of his mind. “What we have, what we built—it’s gone.”
Theodore scowled. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s not gone,” Sherry spoke over him, her voice a coo in Ryan’s ears, “it’s just gonna take some work to build it back up.”
Suddenly, Ryan slammed his fists down on the counter, face flushed red. At first, Theodore thought it was out of anger, but then he noticed the glint in Ryan’s eyes, full of tears. Had he really made his brother that upset? The concept was unimaginable. The only time he’d ever seen Ryan cry was at his father’s hands, which made him compare the two instances, heart beating strangely in his chest. If what he’d done was just as bad as fifteen lashes, then maybe the similarities between him and his father weren’t just physical. His stomach churned—he was going to be sick.
“Ryan—” he tried, but was interrupted by Sherry.
“C’mon,” she nudged, holding Ryan by the shoulders. She towered over him, standing on her feet as he slumped over the bar. “You need a shower.”
Ryan had a very difficult time getting up from the stool, arms leaning on the bar for support, feet too wobbly to stand on. He leaned on Sherry a bit, but not too much; she practically dragged him along with an iron grip on his upper arm, reminiscent of how Henry used to pull him down the stairs. Ice permeated Theodore’s veins.
“I’m sorry!” he shouted, body propelling itself a step forward.
“No, please.” Ryan’s voice was small, hand raising to cover his own face. “Don’t blame yourself.”
His brows quirked. If he wasn’t to blame, then who was? He definitely couldn’t pin it on Laith.
“Uh.” Justin shifted in the corner. “How about some breakfast, huh? Are you hungry, Theo? I’ll get you something.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“How about some cereal?”
Justin left the room through the big archway. From behind the bar, Theodore could see the kitchen through the small archway, where Justin showed up a moment later. So the rooms were connected. A row of counters lined the wall, which he’d seen last night, and as he walked in, he learned that a second row, parallel to the first one, split the kitchen from the dining room. He could tell that the other side of this island had stools, even if he couldn’t see them.
Justin took out a bowl and a cereal box. Theodore watched the cereal fill up the bowl in a sort of haze, mind foggy with Ryan’s reaction and what he’d said. If he wasn’t to blame, then why had his brother been so aggressive the night before? It seemed that he and Emily both had been trying really hard to get Theodore to leave.
“What’s happening?” The question left him directly from his brain. “What’s Ryan so upset about?”
Justin set the box down. “He doesn’t like it when you hang out with us. He’s very protective over you.”
“If he’s trying to protect me from his own friends, then what does that say about them?”
Their eyes met.
“I think that narrative is false,” he continued. “He’s not trying to protect me; he’s protecting you. All of you.”
“From you?”
The scowl on his face deepened. “He’s afraid I’ll steal you away from him. He doesn’t want me in the tunnels because that’s his space and he doesn’t want me with his friends for the same reason.”
“That’s… kind of stupid, don’t you think?”
“Just listen to me. He’s pinning this all on Laith, because Laith’s the one who let me in. He’s the reason I have Emily’s number, and through it, he’s the reason I got invited here. He’s letting me into Ryan’s space, which is the biggest crime of all.” The more he talked, the clearer it all became, like puzzle pieces falling into place. “I don’t belong here because it’s not for me; it’s for him. It’s supposed to be for him anyway.”
“Ryan introduced you to us.”
“No, I walked into the room uninvited.”
“He brought you to the camping trip.”
“He used me to hang out with you guys. He never meant for me to actually get to know any of you. He got you all speaking in code so I wouldn’t know what you were talking about, except Laith either didn’t get the memo or just didn’t care to keep it. That was his first offense.”
“I don’t know…” Justin opened the fridge and reached into it. “I think he just doesn’t want you to get involved with us because it’s very easy to slip and fall into the tunnels. Once you’re in, it’s really hard to get out.”
“Maybe.” His brain whirred. “But maybe this is the only place where he really belongs—with you guys.”
“Why would you ruin that for him?” As the fridge door closed, Justin walked back to the bowl. “You’re family. You’re supposed to be best friends.”
“I’ve always ruined everything for him.”
The truth of that statement hurt on the way out, but he had to say it. He’d carried it for way too long, hoping Ryan would one day forgive him, as if taking his childhood away had been his fault. As if having a father that actually stuck around to raise him had been his fault and Carolyn’s sudden interest in being a mother—an attentive PTA mother that went to every game and looked through all of his homework—had been his fault. The truth was that Ryan had been dealt a shitty hand when Theodore hadn’t.
“I’m taking away the only thing he has.”
“Okay, now you’re just being dramatic.” Justin pushed the bowl in his direction, with just enough milk in it. He hadn’t had cereal in years. “Don’t worry about Ryan.”
“I don’t, I just…” He shrugged, hands absently gravitating towards the bowl. “I feel like shit.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Theo; you’re just figuring things out as you go. We all are. Honestly, um…” Justin faltered, milk jug held safely within his hands. “I don’t think any of this is a big deal.”
His eyes doubled in size. “Bro, you’ll be crucified if you say that in front of them.”
“I know! I know; I just don’t see why going to parties and fooling around with a rat would get you in trouble. I agree it’s a risk, but Laith’s not the kind of person who’d lure you down. Actually, none of us wants you there; we want you to go to college and pursue a career, just like Ryan. He and Emily go down all the time, but that’s never stopped them from carrying on above ground either. I think you’re the same way.”
“They don’t see that in me. Laith said…”
Memories of the two of them out on the porch had spoiled with Laith’s inability to remember a single moment of it. Talking about it felt irrelevant, like none of it should be seriously considered.
“He said you guys don’t think of me as a person, that I’m some kind of pet. Like you don’t see me as an equal.”
“That’s definitely true for Ryan and Emily. Part of their concerns about all of this is that it’s far too adult for you.”
“I’ve been to parties bigger than this. I’ve drank so much I blacked out. I fucked Laith twenty minutes ago. I might not have ever paid a bill or driven a car, but the world is slowly catching up to me. Sooner or later, I’ll have to be introduced to what Ryan thinks is too adult for me.” His hands lifted for air quotes. “Locking me in a bubble isn’t gonna help me learn how to deal with anything.”
“I agree with that. I don’t think their approach is the best, but I also don’t have much of a voice. Ultimately, you’re his brother, so whatever he says about you goes.”
His eyes rolled.
“I’m sorry.” Justin spoke as he took the cereal bowl to the island. Just as imagined, the moment he circled it, the row of stools came into view. “I just don’t know what to do about any of this. I like you, Theo, and I want to be your friend, but I don’t know how.”
He stared at Justin, eyes wide. “You want to be my friend?”
“Yeah, dude. Of course.”
His heart quivered. Slowly, he took a seat. “Then just be my friend. Don’t think about what Ryan or Emily might say, just—just talk to me like I’m one of you.”
“You are to me. Always have been, really.” Justin put the milk away with a shrug bouncing his shoulders.
“How come that’s not true for the others?”
Just as he finished that question, Emily walked into the kitchen. It shocked him mute—had she heard it? Was she here to confront him? His heart raced. With no interest in being part of their conversation, she approached the counter.
“It’s time to go, Theo. Call your mother.”
Suddenly, his stomach burned, turning the fear that ran in his veins into hatred. Who did she think she was? “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this was your house. Do you want me to leave?”
“This is for your own good. You should’ve called her last night, like I asked you to.”
“No, you ordered me to do it, and if I’d heard you, I would’ve missed out on a lot. Actually, it doesn’t even look like the party’s really over. I’m having breakfast.”
“We’re leaving soon. You should go.”
“Well.” Justin cocked his head a bit. His input prompted Emily to turn around and stare. “He doesn’t really have to go. I’m sure we can all find a way to chill around each other.”
“Are you serious?”
Justin shrugged. This was the first time Theodore had seen him stand up to someone, despite his mild and friendly approach. At the end of the day, it was still more than he’d ever done, non-confrontational by nature. Theodore’s chest filled up with confidence.
“I know Ryan’s upset, but he’s always upset about something. I just don’t think it’s right to punish Theo when he didn’t do anything wrong.”
Emily’s subsequent silence showed her deliberation on that point.
“Where’s Laith?” Theodore asked.
It was very obviously the wrong question, but he did it on purpose, just to see how she’d react to it. Immediately, she whipped back around to look at him, eyes wide, brows pinched the slightest bit together. In silence, her jaw set. The way she always did her lipstick, with the elongated lips, made unease look strange on her face, like it didn’t belong there, over a perpetual smile, even if painted on.
“Don’t let him take over,” she warned, voice low and serious. “You need to move on from this. If you keep hanging around him, you’re gonna get hurt.”
Just like this morning. In truth, he could take much more of it. Not that it’d happen, though; he’d learned his lesson.
“Are you speaking from experience?”
That was just a stupid joke to get under her skin, but the reaction that it got made him wonder if he hadn’t accidentally hit the nail right on the head. Her spine straightened up and her face flushed dark red, lungs pulling in a deep breath. In her distress, she couldn’t even answer his question.
“Oh. Shit, I’m sorry; I didn’t think—”
“Just leave.” With that, she made her exit, the scent of burnt sugar heavy in the air.
Justin stared back at him, wide-eyed. “Bro, what?”
“You didn’t know either?” His heart raced. “God, that was so bad; I was just fucking around!”
“I mean.” Blue eyes threw a glance in the direction Emily had left, probably looking at her through the small archway. “It does explain things.”
“I’m sorry.” The longer he spent in here, the more damage he caused, a wrecking ball set loose. “I feel like a fucking asshole.”
“That was the worst faux pas I’ve ever seen, but it was still an accident.”
Their eyes met again, Justin’s features a lot softer now, back to normal.
“You couldn’t have known. No one could.”
Both hands shot up to hide his face, throat groaning with vexation.
Footsteps in the distance, sharp that echoed within the living room. The sound reminded him of his mother’s heels.
“Man, I wish I could like, comfort you better, but you’ve really dug your grave here.” Justin’s incredibly unhelpful words only served to tie a knot around his throat. “I know it feels like the group is falling apart, but trust me, it isn’t. Emily will take some work and Ryan will definitely be a challenge, but Laith and I are right here with you. You can count on us.”
Okay, that wasn’t so bad. It actually helped loosen the knot a little bit.
The footsteps approached him from behind. The click-clacking of women’s shoes brought Sherry to mind and the heels she’d worn last night, despite the fact that he hadn’t actually heard them over the music. She walked up to the end of the counter, between him and Justin. Through his fingers, he could see her black jumpsuit, skin-tight, hips leaning against the countertop.
“Don’t beat yourself up, pumpkin; it’s not a good look.”
Dropping his hands, he glanced up at her. “Ryan hates me.”
“Not for anything you did. His insecurities have nothing to do with anyone other than himself. After all, what was your crime? Let him squirm.”
“You…” He scowled. “Weren’t you comforting him this whole time?”
“Yes. If it’s any consolation, he’s still a mess, but Emily’s on it. I’m not here for him, though.” Her head shook very lightly, metal rings catching the light. The glitter in her makeup was sorely missed, but the simple wings and the glossy lipstick looked really nice too. “I know you’re upset, but you have nothing to worry about. Ryan likes to turn his problems into everybody else’s, which I’m sure you’re aware of, and it’s easy to let yourself get caught up in that. For as much as it feels like you’re doing incredible damage right now, just ask yourself why—why does it feel that way? Do you have a problem with what happened or does he? In the end, your worst crime is living life the way you want to.”
He stared at her. “You’re supposed to be on his side.”
“Not blindly and I can clearly see through his delusions. He’s afraid you’ll become one of us.”
“He already is,” Justin cut in, inserting himself into the conversation. “Ryan just doesn’t want to admit it.”
“Admitting defeat is certainly not his forte. If he were the captain of a ship, he’d sink with it.”
“So you agree, then.” A surge of hope pushed him off the stool, hands pressed flat against the counter. “You agree with Justin that all of this is just stupid garbage; that I shouldn’t have to worry about it.”
“Of course it’s all garbage, Theodore; just think it through!” The delicate annoyance in her tone heavily reminded him of his mother, made even more evident by the usage of his full name. Somehow, it all just worked perfectly together. “What’s affecting Ryan so deeply isn’t anything you did; it’s your existence in his general vicinity. How childish is that?”
Her support lifted two hundred pounds off his shoulders, feet walking on air. He loved her.
“Yeah, that’s really childish. He just can’t deal with the thought that I might be making friends with his friends.”
“That you’ve already made friends with his friends and slept with the guy he’s sleeping with. What he needs is a lesson in humility.”
“Wait, he’s still sleeping with Laith?”
“Occasionally.”
They held the stare while Justin glanced from one to the other.
“We’re in an open relationship,” she clarified. “I guess I should’ve made that clearer, since he doesn’t speak to you at all. Didn’t you only learn about me through Emily?”
“Yeah, I always learn about his personal life through other people. Um.” He squinted, heart lodged halfway up his throat. “Is he in a relationship with Laith too?”
“No. Laith has been single since I’ve met him.”
“He hasn’t dated anyone in years,” Justin added.
“I know that, I just—I thought maybe Ryan had roped him into it or something. They’ve been at this for… a long time.”
Regrettably.
Justin’s brows drew together with his thoughts, pensive. “No, it’s not like that. As far as I can tell, it usually happens when we’re partying and Ryan’s super wasted. I don’t follow them around or anything, but I’ve just never seen Ryan make a pass while completely sober.”
“What about Laith?”
“He’s never initiated it. At least, not that I know of.”
“Now that you mention it…” Sherry scowled in thought. “I’ve never seen that either. I’ve seen Laith hit on men of course, just not Ryan.”
Curious.
“Well, he fucking despises Ryan, so that’s probably why.” His little comment got some very encouraging laughter from the other two. Great crowd. “What you said about a lesson in humility,” he continued, steering the conversation back to what mattered. “You think I can give that to him?”
“I think you already have. He’s choking on the bitter pill as we speak.” Sherry shrugged elegantly, one shoulder bobbing under her braids. “We’ll see how he does in a moment.”
Man, he could hug her. The warmth in his chest put a wide grin on his face, cheeks rounding with it. How could she make him feel so nice, so reassured? She didn’t deserve Ryan at all.
“Now you should check on Laith.”
And just like that, his grin dropped. His mouth parted to ask after her remark, but nothing came out, because every question in his brain could very well be answered by Laith himself. Without contesting that, he got up and left.
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