All Day Through
#9 of Hockey Hunk Season 3
Blood is thicker than water, is it now?
Hehhey, welcome to the Hockey Hunk!
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G
*
I didn't have the time to turn around in my wheelchair before my brother exploded into the kitchen in a flurry of golden furs and black clothing that covered most of his slim, surprisingly energetic body. His tailtip was swishing against the floor and left an obvious slick trail.
I could smell the rain on him.
"Shit, it's raining!" Justin noted as he made his way to the fridge.
I snuffled and gave the soaked window a quick look, and then smirked.
"I know," I said.
Bottles clattered in the door of the double freezer. Justin peered inside, his ears and tail flicking eagerly while he visually rummaged through the contents.
"HEYO JUSTIN!" dad's voice echoed from upstairs.
Justin's muzzle twisted to the side as he looked up towards the ceiling, as if expecting to establish eye contact with dad. A sneer passed over his features, along with a grunt.
"YEAH RIGHT!" Justin hollered in reply.
My ears flicked down at the sudden increase in volume. The rapid slashing of my brother's tail was a sure sign that he wasn't exactly happy about something at the moment.
"DON'T SPOIL YOUR APPETITE BEFORE DINNER!" dad replied.
Justin grabbed a can of Coke Zero from the freezer and closed the door with another bottle-rattling slam of the door. My brother crashed down onto a chair opposite to me on the small table, huffing again.
"NO, DAD!" Justin yelled.
"GOOD SON!"
"Shit," my brother snorted.
I winced a little at the sudden noisiness and then smiled a little, too, when I watched my brother open the can and take a loud sip. He even burped afterwards and sighed extravagantly, as if it was the nicest thing he ever tasted.
"Does that count as spoiling your appetite?" I pointed at the can he held in one paw while the other was doing some manly scratching on his belly.
Justin shrugged.
"Dunno," my brother grunted.
I chuckled a little.
"Well it's soda."
"Well you'd be hungry too if you'd eaten lunch at the school cafeteria," Justin snorted. "I think it was full on cabbage hidden under some weird sauce. Pathology results haven't come back in yet."
I smiled again. It sounded like my brother had watched some CSI.
"Maybe," I said.
My brother made a face.
"Wish that horrible Mrs. Lomax would retire already, then maybe we wouldn't be poisoned every day at lunch," my brother exclaimed.
I chuckled openly, this time.
"Doubt she's going anywhere soon," I said with a smirk, "she was pretty young back when I was at high school, I doubt she's going to retire anytime soon."
Justin shrugged.
"Well you never know," he said. "You're kinda old."
My brow rose in surprise at this statement.
"I'm only 28,"I said with a bemused expression on my muzzle.
Justin slurped from his can and then put it down with a click, and seemed to be suppressing a burp, if only judging by the muffled sound escaping from his muzzle.
"Well that's like 60 in teenager years," Justin replied.
I pouted a little and let my tail flop down to the floor audibly, as if resigned to the fact that my days of youth were already hopelessly past me.
Justin sniffled.
"Dad eating bacon again?" he eyed the kitchen as if looking for visual evidence to support the earlier finding of his, that being the still lingering scent of freshly cooked bacon that was still found from the kitchen.
"Yeah," I replied.
Justin huffed.
"So that's why he was so busy, lol," my brother grunted. "I saw that it was raining and I texted him to ask him if he could stay at work for just half an hour longer so that he could give me a ride home but no..."
My brother shook his arm, as if expecting a great amount of water to fall from it. I saw none.
"...not a chance," my brother snuffled.
I chuckled.
"Well at least you got some healthy exercise," I smiled, imagining how my brother must have made a record time riding his bicycle from the high school to home.
Justin yawned.
"Dunno," he said before another sip of his soda.
I gave my own bowl of soggy cereal and lovelorn look and then decided that I needed a drink too.
"Justin, could you make me some coffee?" I asked, politely and friendlily and prepared to give bribes.
My brother gave me a "whut?" look, before he smiled toothily.
"Mom and dad don't let me drink coffee," he replied. "They say caffeine's bad for growing furs and that I can only start drinking coffee when I turn 16."
I nodded.
"Well that's wise, they're quite right," I replied, not planning to tell him that no such restrictions existed during my own teen years.
"Aaaaand..." my brother continued lazily, and I knew that this was it. "Should I be found making coffee, and even if I claimed it was for you and not for me, dad would still react as if he caught me with a bong or something, sooooo...."
A vicious smirk spread over my lips.
"DAAAAAD!" I hollered.
"YOU OKAY RORY?!" dad's voice was deep and loud as always.
"CAN JUSTIN MAKE ME SOME COFFEE, DAD? HE CLAIMS HE'S NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH THE COFFEEMAKER!" I explained.
My brother looked hurt.
"MAKE SOME COFFEE TO YOUR BROTHER, JUSTIN!" dad's reply sounded final.
Justin pouted.
"You're no fun," my brother rumbled.
I shrugged.
"Well I just need a helping paw," I said, lifting the paw that really needed some help. "Sorry about that. I don't much like being a cripple either."
My brother put his soda can down, got up from his chair and proceeded to grab the coffee pot and run some water into it with surprisingly expert touch.
"Yeah, it sucks," he said. "Like with Jared, shit, dude fell on his bicycle and broke both of his arms, man! Dunno how he survived six weeks like that."
I had a suspicion that he had some disturbing ideas about how this mysterious Jared might have survived such a fate, but decided not to pry.
"Well at least I didn't even break mine," I again waved my splinted paw.
"Yeah," Justin replied, now from by the coffeemaker into which he measured the actual coffee. The very smell of the ground coffee made my muzzle water a little. "It still sucks."
"Yeah," I said and nodded in reply as well. "It does."
Justin hit the coffeemaker's power button and then made his lazy padding way back to a semi-collapsed position on his chair in front of my, with one paw curled around his favorite drink.
The coffeemaker wheezed.
"Happy now?" Justin snuffled to me.
"Thank you, Justin," I replied with a smile.
My brother busied himself with some scratching again, leaving me with the opportunity to spy on him a little. He had definitely grown since I had last seen him almost six months ago, probably an inch or so, whatever it was, enough so that even a casual observer such as myself would notice it. He was still slinky, though, not filling out yet, but I suspected that could only be a matter of time, too, especially if he decided to exercise a bit. His muzzle had definitely grown, though, and seemed just a little bit too large on his face, just like they usually did at that age. One look at his face told me that he was going to end up looking more like mom than dad, considering that his muzzle seemed to be quite narrow. That was definitely something he would have inherited from mom, considering that my own followed after dad's broad jaw line. Didn't mean there was anything girly about Justin, either. He had the beginnings of a mane, just a few whispy, long hairs that made his neck seem thicker than it was. I bet dad would encourage a deep pride in that masculine features as the time went by and my brother would get more and more puffy around his neck. Maybe it'd make him a big deal with the girls, too, everyone wanting to get a feel. I bet he would revel in that sort of attention, too.
"Yeah," my brother said.
I wasn't really too sure about what I should talk about with my brother. The last time we had actually lived under the same roof, the greatest and funniest thing he could think about was Sesame Street. I wondered whether he still liked that. I did have an inkling that he had other things in mind by now, though. How to approach other more...mature topics, I wasn't so sure about. What were you supposed to talk with someone who was 13? You didn't want to expose them to the whole horror of the adult life, surely, and I was sure that mom and dad had their own ideas about what was appropriate and what wasn't. I certainly didn't want to be seen as a bad influence during my limited opportunities to...influence, in the first place.
It was not like I was too good a role model to begin with as far as big brothers went. I had a messy romantic life, I had a uninteresting work life that was in no way corresponding to my level of education, I didn't exactly do anything interesting nor did anything for the betterment of the universe, and I was probably also a lazy son of a bitch. And of course I would not be giving my parents any grandkids either, unless the scientists somehow perfected parthenogenesis while they were at it.
I scratched my jaw.
"Well...uh...how was school?" I asked.
That sounded safe enough.
"Same old shit," my brother shrugged.
I wondered whether I should prod for more information, but I suspected that doing that would only solidify my position as a boring big brother in Justin eyes.
Humph.
If only I could be as...interesting...as Cobb. I bet that someone Cobb would be a superstar in my brother's eyes. He was the cool brother who brought lots of gifts and good times to his brother, cooked delicious meals, supported his brother in his daily life, acted like a total kid all the time, and would probably take on any chance to have a really messy Super Soaker water gun war with you. I was sure that if I could be that kind of a brother, then I would be the subject of Justin's adoration, instead of this...quiet tolerance thing we had going on.
I wondered what Cobb was doing at this very moment. Probably doing everything he could do to make sure that Victor was comfortable. Cook dinner, help change bandages, read books aloud to him, read magazines aloud to him, bring movies, bring ice cream, bring candy, massage a leg sore from lying down all day...help him get dressed...be the perfect family member, in support of a fallen brother.
Yeah. Victor probably had it well off, both in the sense of being taken care of and when it came to fraternal relations. They had literally spent their whole lives together, from the very first wailing cry of life once they popped into this world, and that wasn't going to change. They were family, they were a duo, and an unit, and they worked together naturally, as was their due, and they were perfectly happy with it. Well...probably happy when they weren't fighting, but I guess that was part of it too.
Guess it was the age difference, and that we hadn't lived together for the majority of our lives, and the fact that we didn't really know what we had in common and what we could talk about. Sure, we'd experienced some things together, but I was 100% sure that Justin didn't want to hear about me remembering how he had been over the top happy when he got a LEGO pirate ship as a Christmas present a couple of years back, or how I had pushed around baby Justin in a baby carriage. That, too, was probably in the "Ewww, gross!!" category of brotherly stories to share. Consequently, I decided not to.
"Everything going alright at school, then?" I smiled. "Lots of friends and stuff? Nobody giving you hard time?"
My brother gave me a "duh" face just as he lifted the soda can up to his lips. He licked his lips afterwards and flicked his ears sharply at me.
"Why would anyone be giving me a hard time?" Justin rumbled.
"Kids are stupid," I replied. "Sometimes they don't need a reason."
"Hey!" Justin exclaimed, looking hurt. "I'm a kid and I'm not stupid!"
I snuffled.
"But you know what I mean," I said.
The coffee smelled fantastic. I wondered whether it was ready soon, and whether I would have to use dad's help to get Justin to pour me a mug.
"Of course, I'm not dumb, you know," Justin snorted. "If you're different, you're automatically an idiot."
My tail made a tense snap against the floor, despite my best effort to stay most calm and amiable in the situation. My brother was right, of course. It really didn't need more than that for the name calling and picking on and bullying and beating to start.
"Yep," I said.
The coffeemaker gurgled.
"You mind getting me that coffee, Justin?" I pointed out my object of desire as I spoke.
"Whatever," he grunted.
"Thanks, Justin," I smiled.
He got up and moved over to the kitchen cabinet over the sink to get a mug from there. It was a blue and with happy sunflowers with smiling faces painted on them, as if they were greeting the sun with a really big, happy, gay smile. I snuffled at the glimpse of the mug. It must've been one of mom's. She liked silly little things like that.
"But nope, " Justin mused, his back turned to me for the moment, "Don't have anyone giving me no shit. I can take care of myself."
I really wanted to ask whether he was supposed to say shit so often, but I held that remark back and said something else instead.
"Well that's great to hear!"
The beautiful black liquid flowed into the mug with a flick of Justin's paw. It made my tail flick with delight.
"Yup," he said. "It helps that mom and dad know everyone in town, so if anyone even tried to give me some shit, their parents would hear about it in like five seconds from mom, and you don't wanna mess with mom."
I snickered ruthlessly.
"Yeah, that's true," I beamed.
Justin padded over to the table and put the mug down by my paw. A few drops spilled but thankfully fell to the tabletop and not over my paw. I smiled.
"Thanks, Justin," I grinned.
He was already flopped back to his seat by the time I had the mind to start thinking about asking Justin to bring me some milk for my coffee, but for the moment he seemed so content to sit there with his delicious soda that I decided not to heckle him anymore. Instead, I ladled some milk from my cereal bowl into the mug by using the big spoon, and soon I had the coffee stirred into a nice, murky, weird beige liquid of delight.
I purred.
I will be honest, everyone.
I came.
"You know what's for dinner?" Justin asked.
I shook my head softly.
"I've no idea," I mused. "Whose turn is it to cook today?"
Justin shrugged.
"Dad probably," he said. "YOOO DAAAD?"
"WHAAAAAT?"
"YOU COOKING TODAY DAAD?"
"WAAAIT!"
I just had about time for another sip of my lovely coffee before dad appeared through the living room door, carrying the now empty bacon plate in one of his big paws.
"Hello, Justin," my dad rumbled on his wait to the kitchen sink.
Justin gave dad a glancing look.
"Yeah."
"Had a good day?"
Justin snorted.
"Until about it started to rain, yeah, dad," my brother snuffled.
Dad gave a glimpse for the weather forecasting window, and smiled.
"Oh yes, it's really raining hard, hope you didn't get too wet, and that you put your coat to dry."
Justin's face told me that he hadn't put his coat to dry, but I knew that dad would find out that sooner or later, and stayed quiet. I just smiled, and stirred my coffee a little.
"Yup," he said.
Dad finished with rinsing the plate and put it down to dry on the old plastic rack on the sideboard.
"Did you park your bike on the porch?"
Justin snorted.
"Yeah, dad," he said in the "duh" voice he seemed to be very well versed with.
Dad grabbed a towel from one of the hooks by the kitchen sink and began to dry his paws.
"That's great," he smiled. "Plenty of homework."
Justin batted the floor rudely with his tail.
"Nope," he said. "Just the usual. Got a French word test tomorrow."
Dad clapped his paws together.
"Well that's maagneefeek!" my big, rumbling dad rumbled. "I'm sure Rory can help you with that."
Justin looked from dad to me and then back to dad, and to me, and then to the ceiling, and the back to dad. I chuckled and scratched my neck.
"Well I could give it a try," I said. "It's been really long time since I used the language but I guess it will come back to me if I give it a go! Uhh...Je parle...Français...bon?"
Justin cringed.
Dad was grinning all too widely.
"Well that's something to do on a rainy day that isn't playing on X-Box," dad beamed. "But I think I'll leave you to it, I have to go shopping."
"Yeah," Justin said, "I was just gonna ask you what's for dinner."
"Ohhh," dad's ears perked. "Oh well, well, I was thinking about buying a whole frozen chicken or two and maybe cooking that in the oven. Maybe some nice sweet and sour sauce? Would you guys like that?"
My almost empty stomach grumbled appreciatively.
"Sure!" I grinned.
"As long as you don't use garlic," Justin snuffled. "I hate garlic."
Dad licked his lips.
"Your mom loves garlic!" he grinned, with his tail flapping about merrily. "Wouldn't it be nice to surprise her with a big, nice juicy garlic-filled chicken?"
Justin threw his paws in the air.
"If you do that, then I'm gonna go and grab a burger," the teen lion threatened.
Dad chucked and ruffled Justin's head furs on his walking way.
"Ewww, dad!" Justin took a swipe at dad's already out of reach paw.
Dad stopped by the door and turned to face us.
"Anything you guys want from the supermarket?"
"How about a sixpack of Budweiser?" Justin retaliated.
Dad snuffled.
"How about a sixpack of juice boxes?" dad replied.
Justin pouted.
"If you and Rory work really hard on that French test, I'll bring you guys Milky Way bars to celebrate with," dad said. "And of course I'll have to buy a little bit of this and that...anything you need, Rory?"
I shook my head quietly.
"Can't really think of anything special," I mused. "I just like the fridge full."
Dad grinned.
"That's my boy!" dad declared. "Well, I'll leave you guys to it now, and I'll be back to cook dinner."
"No need to hurry," Justin smirked.
"Ne hurry pas," I added.
*
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