The Dogs: Litany - Episode V
Andrew shut the door behind
him, hearing, as he did the first evening he and Bligh spent together as
lovers, the sound of metal going into metal, demarcating him from the rest of
the world. Behind the door was a secret, sacred solidarity - and now he was out
in the world, alone. As he paced down the steps
and into the parking lot, the near-starless Tampa suburban sky a satiny purple
above him, he felt, for the first time since, in fact, Bligh had given Cody the
gift of half-doghood the day before he did so to Andrew - betrayed. Bligh had
made this relationship between he and Cody about a sacred bond that had
transcended time and distance - about forgiving Andrew for his indiscretions
that had accumulated in his then-new life in Tampa, and Andrew in turn
forgiving Bligh for his confused rampage when he had first arrive here a month
ago. But it had all been built
on a lie. That was too strong a word,
perhaps - lie. It was a withholding of truth - an omission, not
an outright lie, not Bligh telling him he had been waiting lonely and alone
only for Andrew, that was clearly not true in either case, Bligh's dalliance
with Dan Dorsey was proof enough of that. Andrew had not been irrationally
jealous or territorial - his reaction to that news was too blunted by the
other, much more catastrophic revelations about Bligh's new species, and with
the weeks he had forgotten it as a tragedy, a cautionary tale of how the three
of them had to be responsible, above all else, with their new biology. But Stephen - was when Bligh was human. The Bligh who Andrew had known
and loved, in secret. He had kept it together - he had almost faltered, but he
had kept it together - as he left the apartment...he did not want to make a
scene, not in front of Cody, Cody pregnant with his and Bligh's pups, he had to
be strong... ...and he tired so, of being
strong. He was unready for
everything - for seeing his brother again, for his brother finding out his true
nature, for Cody's heartwish to be pregnant even as a male to actually come true - there was no way to
prepare for this, no manual, no Google, to tell him what to do. He was solitary in his
struggle - as he had been when he moved to Florida the first time. The irony
was inescapable, bitter, remorseless. He had wanted a new life but, in a very
real way, he was back to where he started. He paused for a moment,
taking a deep breath - the crickets still sang their song, somewhere far off a
car roared quietly down a side street. He lived in this world as much as the
world would never accommodate or even acknowledge him - and so he would rebel. He would go to his
apartment's pool, doubtless unlocked by the lazy security guard, take off his
shoes to reveal the concealed canid footpaws, and soak them in the nearby
outdoor hot tub. He wanted to be himself -
not Bligh's bitch, not Stephen's brother, not Cody's husband - himself, only.
If not human - then at least, himself, only. As he neared the apartment
pool at last, he saw, submerged in the hot tub, what looked to be a shortish,
scrawny figure holding a beer bottle in his mouth, no hands, tilting back
against the concrete edge. He was puzzled as to why someone would drink alcohol
in such a needlessly harmful way - until he realized who it probably was. "Hey - hey - S-Stephen?" The shadowy figure in the
hot tub slithered in the bubbling water - a broken, unkind chortle answered
Andrew's call, and he sighed, harsh and irritated as he approached the pool
area. "Hey, hey, hey!"
Stephen called, holding up the beer bottle, his mischievous grin of infinite
jest gracing his mouth. "Look at me!" He took a long glug of beer,
and then, with a harsh swallow: "New juice for the hot tub freaks!" "What the fuck are you
talking about?" Stephen sneered. "It's
a song, geez, why do you hate music?" "Stephen, get out your
ass outta there - you ain't supposed to be in there, you ain't a resident--" "But I'm your guest,
right?" He smiled again - there was a cruelty to the mischief that enraged
Andrew. "Get out of there, now." He let out a harsh sigh. "Already ruined enough, dammit to Hell--" "Oh shut the fuck up, I
didn't ruin shit." Stephen answered
languidly, floating away to the corner, knocking the now-empty bottle of beer
into the hot tub, where, as he held it down, it sank. "If anything Bligh ruined shit, calling me a--" "No - no, fuck you,
okay? You shoulda just kept your goddam mouth shut, for once! Nobody asked you to--" Up from the water, with a
loud splash, came Stephen's arm, with an accusing finger - he pointed it up at
Andrew's face, firm, behind a glare that shot daggers. "Nobody needed to! I'm the only family you have,
fucker. If I wanna come over to your
house I fucking will. Don't forget we
used to live in the same house!" Andrew felt his hands ball
up in a helpless frustration, and he brought them to the sides of his head, his
ears inside his hat twitching furiously, clenching his teeth, shutting his eyes
- his whole being became a searing fire of frustration. "G-God - d-dammit - Stephen!" He heard his brother's arm
splash back into the hot tub - his eyes flew open to see Stephen, wet and
glistening in the griseous light of the apartments above him, the sapphire eyes
that they both shared seeming to burn even in the dripping blackness of the
chlorinated water. "Damn me all the fuck you want," Stephen said
quietly - there was a tinge of malice to his words, a faint violence.
"Bligh shoulda been honest and I figured
he was gonna be honest but he wasn't - how the fuck is any of that my fault? It
wasn't my responsibility to tell you shit
-not about me, not about any o'that. He said to keep it a secret and I loved him
and I still love him because y'all
practically raised me, so I fucking did
- because you had Dakota and he was
the only thing you ever cared about, Bligh knew that, I knew that, everybody on
fucking Facebook knew that. I knew Bligh loved you more than me, more than
fucking anybody, and I seriously thought you'd get yer head out of your ass and
you'd tell him you loved him too. And even then - before that? Fucking man-whoring around Tampa like it's going outta
style, why the fuck would me, or - or Bligh - why would we tell you anything?
Wasn't gonna last anyway - and besides - who
didn't call or text me for six months? And who just up left the fucking family outta nowhere?" He took the bottle from
beneath him in the water and, leaning back, exhaling through his mouth in the
cadence of an inaudible orgasm, as though his soliloquy was itself a great
release, poured the bottle's contents of refiltered poolwater - new juice for the hot tub freak - over
his face. "How many fucking
drinks you had?" Andrew muttered numbly, having borne Stephen's assault
stoically, the creeping notion that he had been utterly routed, and that he was
behaving illogically and impulsively and therefore shamefully, creeping over
him. Stephen finished what he
was doing - the last bit of water left the bottle, trickled down his face - and
he tilted his head forward with a raised eyebrow. The slick smile - the
infinite jest - returned.
"I've had three beers, Drewseph - this is my third one. If you think my
tolerance is that low, we've got bigger problems than being the mistake I evi-goddam-dently must be--" "Fuck you,"
Andrew interrupted, immediately hurt by the remark. "Okay? Fuck you - and
Bligh. It's not fucking fair--" "Will you stop this?" Stephen breathed out
exasperatedly. "No," Andrew
insisted. "No, no I will not. You shoulda told me - you shoulda fucking told me that he - th-that he--"
There came a profound
hesitancy in his voice, and he labored with the last words. "Say it,
Brother," Stephen murmured, his face becoming demure, revealing nothing.
"Say it, I wanna hear it--" "He had you - before me!" It was a scream, bloody and
primal, that ripped out of him in a comet-like blaze of agonized betrayal - he
shut his eyes again, collapsing near-blindly to a pool chair beside him, his
still-balled fists going white in the knuckles before thrusting out to cover
his face in something that almost felt like shame. He felt the first sob erupt,
involuntarily, and he tried to choke it back, but it sputtered forth like a
poorly-dammed river, and soon he was crying, his suppressed wails making his
hands moist and slimy with free-flowing tears and mucous. He knew what the strange
feeling was, the strange feeling that was shaped like shame inside him - it was
shame that he was reacting like this, shame that he would have been so
hysterical and felt so deeply betrayed at something that had happened so long ago...he
had forgiven Bligh everything, but somehow he could not forgive him the selfish
sin of trying to be happy in his absence. It sickened him - his own
reactions, far more than Bligh's original actions. He did not know long it
took him to stop crying - it did not seem like long at all, five minutes
perhaps at most, and as the sobs abated he took his hands off his face...he
looked down at them, slippery, faintly luminous, before shaking his head in
disgust and wiping them on his shirt. "F-fuck," he
muttered to himself. "Fuck - fuck..." He heard another splash,
and looked up to see Stephen emerging from the hot tub - he watched him as he
picked up his shirt that been discarded on the concrete some feet away, and
mopped himself with it, and kept his eyes trained on him as he neared where
Andrew was sitting. Stephen paused a safe
distance away, cocking his head, and Andrew could feel the awkwardness mount
between them once again - he felt the sting of Stephen's final words the last
day he was in Typhoon once again, and his hand made the involuntary motion to
his cheek where Stephen had kissed it, years ago. "Feel better?"
Stephen asked, still demure. Andrew hesitated before
shrugging. "N-not - no, not really." Andrew stared at his brother,
the hand at his cheek falling on his knee - he shook his head.
"What's...done is...done." "I bled." Andrew's head jerked up,
expecting some sort of cruelty forming in Stephen's mouth, something to tell
him this was Stephen just being Stephen, unwilling or unable to empathize - the
sadistic streak that he had learned as a boy, mocked and isolated for most of
his life, coming through even to his own family. But there was none. Stephen
looked as though he was talking about the weather. "Wha - what?" "I bled," Stephen
repeated. "Bligh's hung - you know that - and there was that joke, only it
wasn't a joke it was real, that he
had the biggest dick in the county, well - yeah - he did - does, I guess." He
paused as the words sank into Andrew, knowing full well the roiling pitch of near-nausea
that had developed in the bottom of his brother's stomach. "I bled,"
he added, near-whispering, as though in reverence. "He kept asking me
before, yanno, whether - whether I wanted to do this, he was scared of hurting
me, but--" He shrugged, a slight gesture. "I wanted it - I wanted him
- and - yeah he hurt me, yeah - I
bled." Andrew recoiled. "I -
I..." "And dude - just
listen for a second..." Stephen allowed himself a smile for this one - for a
moment, as his voice drifted off, he was not sarcastic, or bored, or mocking,
he was actually, unironically, happy. "I guess it started because I
reminded him of you? Like in the face, because--" A small laugh, as though
he was cued to do so. "We ain't exactly twins, but--" Another laugh
gathered in Stephen's throat. "He - was very - uh, what's the word - considerate of me - I just laid there
after we did it, in his bed, and he brought me toilet paper and kissed my head
and kept saying he was sorry - but, uh - when we were doing it, he never called
me by your name or anything like I thought he was going to...the entire time, it
was fuck yeah, Stevie--" Andrew hung his head.
"Why the Hell are you doing to this me, Brother? The fuck did I ever do to
you--?" He whispered it, thrusting a hand under his cap to still his
twitching ears. "You said you missed
it? If you knew - dude, if you really, really knew why would stab me in the
back like that?" "Yeah, I missed him, I
missed him and me hanging out and I miss him being - yanno - like that with me. He's hot, I'm gonna
lie to you, yeah, but Drewseph--" He leaned forward. "He was yours - he still is. He was never mine.
And even when he was with me he - he was still lonely." He paused, and
what seemed like an unpleasant epiphany crossed his face. "So...maybe he was
right - maybe it was kind of a
mistake..." "He said nobody gave a
shit..." "A few people did. Gus
did - I did - Duke - though ain't nobody gonna believe, yeah, he...gave a shit
too. But that - they, we - didn't matter, dude - none of it mattered. Because the one person who was supposed be giving shit - you - you seemed like you didn't." It was an old wound, a wound
that had healed, imperfectly but still completely, in the month since Bligh had
come to Florida, and Andrew could feel it redden and become wet again - the
guilt, the old guilt, of leaving Bligh behind. "He's my
ex-boyfriend," Stephen said matter-of-factly. "Because I dumped him." Andrew was taken aback.
"You - you did?" "Because I knew,"
Stephen said, still leaning forward. "The only reason we ever did stuff -
the only reason we - the only reason he fucked me was because he couldn't fuck you - he finished in me
and made me walk funny because he wanted you
all this time and you can lie to yourself that he didn't for some stupid
reason--" Andrew felt his brother's face brush, still damp, against cheek.
"But you were the one he wanted
all this time, and he fucked me," he repeated, "because he couldn't - fuck - you." Andrew's head slowly came
up, and to the side, to see Stephen, the shirt he had dried himself with about
his neck, looking at him with the same raised eyebrow he himself would use on
other people. "I just - he acted so cold to me - trying to - act like
nothing happened...calling me a mistake that
that hurt, dude, that - it still hurts..." "H-he - he kissed your
your forehead?" Andrew acted as though he had not heard him. Stephen pointed to a spot
perhaps an inch above his nose - Andrew nodded, feeling a debilitating surge of
sorrow cut through him. "He - he does that to
me, t-too - he - didn't do it the first time, but when he - he's afraid he's
hurt me...when we..." He did not finish the sentence
- he did not need to. Instead, in the fleeting
seconds that it took for Stephen to rise back up and look down at him, he
imagined his brother, and Bligh - old Bligh, human Bligh, when Bligh was an
animal only in spirit - together, making love in Bligh's bed at Pappy's house
where Andrew had slept, many nights...he imagined Stephen's face in agony, but
exquisite agony, on his back, as Bligh, hatless, feathery black hair swaying
with the motions, thrust into him with his magnificent penis, damaging Stephen,
ruining Stephen, claiming Stephen, his own brother, when it should have been him all along... "Stop thinking about
me and him," Stephen said - Andrew jerked his head to him, blushing so
hotly he was sure his own skin should melt away. Stephen's smile was demure and
cruel - the expression he wore when he knew he was right. "First of all,
that's incest, second--" "I wasn't thinking
about you!" "You can't fool me - c'mon, I saw that face." "You're so f-fucking irritating," Andrew
groaned. "Thank you, I try to
make it a fulltime job." "Shut the fuck up. It
burns me up to think about him with anybody else, how the Hell you expect me--?" "Okay, but weren't you
in the same boat, though? Like - a new dude every week, for like, two years,
even." A sudden thought seemed to occur to Stephen, and he grinned, as
though proud. "You were lonely,
and you couldn't face him--" A cold wash of guilt swept
over Andrew as he winced. "M-maybe, I - I didn't consciously--" "Well neither did
he!" Stephen offered. "You'd believe him any other time I'm sure--" "I do believe him," Andrew said
begrudgingly. "I believe - I b-believe you, and - everything - that's not
what this is about, it's just - fuck, man. I didn't need this tonight." Stephen, who had cast
himself as blameless in this ordeal, seemed miffed by what his brother said,
and he tilted his head, glancing away. "Maybe..." he said
as an aside. "Maybe it was too - too much, yeah. It - it really wasn't my
place to say - when it was happening, though, you get that, right?" "When what was
happening?" "Me and him." Andrew considered the
thought as he looked into his brother's face - he sighed at some length,
shaking his head slowly. "Yeah...you're right.
That was when - that was - sophomore year, yeah, I - I did my time with--" He stopped as the hazy
memories came back to him again - the nights that bleared together in the ice
cubes that clinked in plastic cups, darkly opalescent in the swirling lights of
Ybor, the free money that his parents gave him down the gluttonous drains of
his own mouth with drinks, drinks that had exotic and thrilling and useless
names, that made his breath smell strange and the lips of the boys he kissed
delicious and unique even in their collective anonymity. Stephen brought him back to
the present: "I was going to say I was sorry..." Andrew sighed. "For what?" "Everything." "You wouldn't have
meant it," Andrew answered with a small smile. "You know me, but I -
I know you too, dude." Stephen rolled his eyes with a furtive, wry smile.
"I guess - you're right," Andrew continued, "kinda - kinda,
yeah, Bligh shoulda been honest with me - and me - I should - just - give em
the benefit of the doubt but..." A too-long silence followed
as Andrew's voice drifted off. He searched himself, he let
himself become honest with himself...and
there, in a shadowy corners in his brain, he found the truth, what had escaped
him under the sky of the parking lot where the stars had been obscured, what
had been hiding. "But...what?" Stephen
had put his head back to study his brother with interest. "That's not what this
is about," Andrew said, his voice becoming thick. "I - I've been
freaking out so hard about - about shit that Bligh did because it's - it's too
much, dude, I've got - so much stuff
on me right now." He looked up at his
brother, letting him see the fear that was crackling under his skin - Stephen
nodded at him. "What kinda
stuff?" he asked quietly. Andrew could, he thought,
make up some bullshit excuse about how the change in his body - which Stephen
knew very little of past the superficial - had been a factor, or how his grad
school worries had once again flared up, or how living with Bligh had been a
hard adjustment. None of those were true - none of them - and he knew that
Stephen would see through them, and even if he couldn't, the lies must end, and
they must, he thought, end with him. "You - you need to
know - Stevie you can't, you can't
tell anybody what I'm about to tell you, okay?" He grabbed his brother's
arm in a sudden insistence. "Okay? Promise me - please promise me." Stephen looked down at his
arm, with Andrew's arm gripping it, kneading his eyebrows, before looking back
at him, askance. "Okay," he said slowly. "Okay dude, I won't -
but what the fu--" "He's pregnant,"
Andrew blurted - his anguish was becoming palpable for the both of them. Stephen's eyebrows remained
joined over his nose, his mouth half-open. "Wha - who is pregnant?" "C-Cody," Andrew
said - he shut his eyes as the fear coiled around his vocal cords. "Co - Cody's p-pregnant..." Stephen's expression did
not change for several seconds before he shook his head in a rapid motion, a
confused smile bursting on his face. "Wait - dude, what?
Are you saying he--" "We had sex,"
Andrew continued, opening his eyes so that he could gauge his brother's
inevitable reaction. "Okay? Me - and him - and Bligh - we had sex, and my
sperm got inside him, and some of it - took." Again Stephen shook his
head. "Took - took, what - took?" His eyes darted about him in
thought. "Took - something out of
him? Like--" "No," Andrew said
through gritted teeth. "No - Stephen - no.
My sperm - Bligh's sperm - it - fertilized
him. We made him pregnant and
he's gonna give birth to--" Stephen held up a hand.
"What the Hell are you talking about? What the fuck kinda Bio major are you? The fuck is he, some kinda seahorse? Males don't--" "Males of our species
do," Andrew said with a firmness he did not feel. Stephen folded his arms
across his chest, his mouth returning to its bewildered half-open state.
"Drewseph...what the fuck is going on? Species - wha - what the fuck kinda
science fiction--" Without another word,
Andrew did what, only yesterday, perhaps, was unthinkable - and lifted up his
shirt, to show Stephen, his own brother, the physiology he had heretofore hid
completely from the world. At first it seemed as
though Stephen was unaware what he was looking at - there was a faint trace of
bemusement, mocking the idea his brother's faded football player body was the
key to some unspoken riddle...but his eyes flickered, and he blinked several
times before he peered closer. He had seen it, Andrew knew
- he braced himself, gritting his teeth, for whatever would befall the two of
them next. "You - have--"
Stephen tilted his head as he mouthed counting. "Eight? Eight - eight nipples?" "Y-yeah," Andrew
breathed, his face screwing up into a grimace. "Y-yeah - yeah, yeah. And
yanno why? Because - because - I - we - ain't human - at all, Stephen, you need to--" He swallowed hard. "You
need to grasp that, Brother." There came a shudder in his voice, profound
and desperate. "I - I'm not human.
My DNA is different from - yours, from - everyone else--" He waved his free hand feebly, to the apartments
leering over him. "You see? Bligh - Duke - Duke changed him and he - and then he - he came down here and he changed
Cody - he changed me too - and it ain't just
the ears and the fucking teeth it's--" Stephen looked away from
Andrew, who stopped as he saw his brother distracted - a passing airplane had
caught his attention and his eyes followed it in the sky that, with the
velvet-purple glow of Tampa in the distant horizon, was near-totally starless. "So what," he
said at last. "That actually - that actually sounds pretty freakin cool to
me." His head went back to Andrew who stared at him, aghast. "I mean,
like - you're the science-guy, and you wanted to study new species and um, are
you still into that thing where you wanted a bug named after you or
whatever?" Andrew gave a short sigh.
"It was a moth, and that wasn't
exactly--" "Okay well
whatever," Stephen cut him off. "You still - you wanted to study new
species and now - now you're the
species, the new species - and uh, so is - Bligh and Dakota, too." He
smiled - oddly genuine, for him. "How could you not think that's cool?" Andrew shook his head,
putting his shirt back and clutching the bill of his cap in returning
agitation. "No," he said with fresh despair. "No, Stephen, don't
you--" "It'd be like people,
um, in a literature class, analyzing my writing
instead me analyzing somebody else's--" He rolled his eyes. "--for
once. I'm gonna be a Comparative Lit major, did I tell you that? I might double
up with History, though, I haven't--" "Are you hearing
me?!" Andrew held his arms out, his voice gravelly in the hoarse breaths
of suppressed shouting. "Are you - fucking
hearing me? "I'm not deaf, I heard
you just fine, and I'm telling you,
you're being kind of a bitch right now." At the word bitch Andrew visibly bristled - his back
straightened, his eyes setting into a steely glare. "Don't call me
that," he said coldly. "Don't ever
call me that." "Okay, bitch,
now--" He was silenced as Andrew
finally rose, towering over him, the glower in his eyes never ceasing - he was
behaving on a directive deep within him he had never felt before, the idea that
the word, bitch, could be misused in
such a way...that there was any question of Bligh's ownership of him, that
sacred, alien bond the two of them shared. Andrew had wanted to be
himself - but now, he knew, he couldn't be. He did not say anything,
only trained his glare on his brother, whom he loved, whom he would do anything
for - but whom had trespassed on something he did not understand, and was not allowed
to pretend to know. Stephen turned away with a
frown. "Sorry then," he murmured. "Just - teasing, like I - like
to do." Andrew relented - of all
the things he had told his brother, his hidden relationship was Bligh was, at
last, too much. "I - I'm sorry, too - I'm - all over the place,
tonight." "No kidding," Stephen shot back, a
little hurt. "I mean - I don't really know how to react to - well any
of what's - what's going on, and you going nuclear ain't fucking helping."
Andrew frowned, hanging his
head some. "I - I didn't mean to--"
"It's weird, okay?"
"What--" Andrew
looked up. "What is?"
"You - you, and the extra
mammaries - the - what, are you dog - down there too?"
Andrew felt his face go
utterly hot with abrupt embarrassment, and he gave a slow, slight nod in
affirmation.
Stephen looked away, as though
stricken. "That's weird too,
dude," Stephen said with a sad frown. "I ain't gonna lie - because -
I mean that's what you wanted me to say, right? Because yeah - yeah, yeah it
fucking is." Andrew nodded - it was all
he could do. "I just don't--"
Stephen stopped, his mouth still open, the words there waiting, but he did not
finish...all that he seemed to be able to do, was shake his head. "I just
don't wanna freak out, Drewseph." "What--?" Andrew
raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" Stephen shrugged - he
turned away from Andrew and walked back to the hot tub, to a side where he
could still see Andrew from that short distance, back into the bubbling water. "What I just say,
dude? I don't - I don't wanna freak out - because, okay, look at you. Look at
you!" He crouched down in the hot tub as though for effect. "Being
all emotional and shit, dude - dude, that ain't you."
He slid back, concentrating on the concrete
floor below him to fish out the beer bottle he had left there to continue
playing with it underwater, which he was now neck-deep in. He shut his eyes for
just a moment - Andrew rose, coming to him, standing above him, deeply
concerned at how uncharacteristically vulnerable and honest his brother was
being...attempting to right himself, consciously, into the logical person his
brother knew him as. "Stevie - Stevie
listen, I can explain--" "You always said how -
how emotional Bligh is and how he'd--" He seemed to think a moment.
"What was it you used to say? Fly
off the handle? Yeah - yeah that shit. Which is stupid--" His eyes
flicked to Andrew, who stood over top of him, hands in pockets. "Yeah he's
really emotional but - okay, because - and yanno it's probably just because y'all together finally and whatever, but dude
- ever since you called me, I've done nothing but see you break the fuck
down." Andrew made an abortive noise to protest - Stephen stopped him.
"I mean what happened to - cold - scientist Andrew having to sit my ass
down and tell me not to blow shit up when I wanted." Andrew, well in spite of
himself, let out an unguarded laugh. "What? Dude when did
you ever wanna - wanna blow stuff up?" Stephen shrugged. "Not
the point, Drewseph. Just saying, I mean - I - I wanna freak out - I do, dude.
Really fucking hard." Andrew's smiled faded, and
he sighed as Stephen seemed to grow sad - parcel, but luckily not whole, to his
worst fear. "Oh - Brother,
don't--" "I'm sorry,"
Stephen murmured, his mouth downturned. "I - I'm - I'm sorry, I really
wanna freak out but I - I can't, because my big brother is freaking out..." His brother's words - as,
perhaps, his brother had calculated - shook him. He was right - Andrew was freaking out, something that, back
home, he had never, not once, seen him do. The day he left Tempest he was unguarded and
unsure, but Stephen had never shared this level of emotional honesty...Andrew
could be himself to his brother but he was always the designated strong one,
the one who held Stephen as he completely disintegrated the night Walker died,
the one who stood in for their own father as
a father. He had excuses, a yawning
mass of excuses as to why he would ever act like this - and yet, too, he had no
excuse at all. He was so far up his own asshole - tailhole - about Stephen
reacting that he had forgotten that Stephen would
react...and that it was not Stephen, an anonymous person, it was Stephen, his
brother, his own flesh.
"Stevie..." Andrew
quietly begged. Stephen shrugged again.
"I know - I remember now, why you looked familiar - you - y'all are like one of those dog-people from that
book I found and I - I wanna freak out, I do, but I can't, because you're
freaking out and one of us - one of us has to stay fucking sane in this
family..." But all expression left
Andrew's face. "Book - book, what book--?" "I told you--" "No, you didn't,"
Andrew said, his voice serious. "What book." Stephen's downturned mouth
set itself into another demure frown. "So we're just gonna ignore me being
all sweet and family-like?" "What. Book." Stephen sighed, sliding
slightly further into the water with, eyes rolling. "Take that as a yes - and - that book I told you about
when you called me, remember?" "No," Andrew
repeated. "You just said there was some shit about - Moon-Eyed People, or--" "Yeah and they people
in their tribe who looked like dogs. They were, uh - the leaders, I think? They
were special somehow." Andrew's eyes widened.
"You didn't tell me that!" "Totally did,
dude." "No you did not!" Stephen glanced away as he
seemed to try to remember what was said that fine August day only a month ago.
"Oh," he intoned. "Uh - right. Maybe I didn't tell you that - and who cares, it's just a little
detail--" "It's a really fucking
important detail, Stephen!" Andrew growled. Again came Stephen's
shrugging shoulders. "I forgot it at the time. Plus - uh - important
detail? Didn't seem it back
then." He frowned, rather bitter. "Because someone didn't tell me--" "Oh you wanted me to
just come out and tell you, like it
was - like it was what I - had for dinner, or some shit?" Stephen raised an eyebrow,
still unmoved. "Uh, yeah! I did! C'mon dude we already had this argument
back at your place--" "God dammit, Stephen--" "Will you stop acting
like anything is gonna make me stop loving you!" Andrew was taken aback at
how assertive and how angry Stephen had become - once again it was as though
his eyes seem to burn, even in the darkness. "Yeah - yeah I forgot to tell you that there were
part-dog people in the tribe that our ancestors killed off, yeah, okay, sure,
and that's fine, it was just a small sentence and I honestly thought it was
made up at the time, and you're gonna get all huffy and shit because I didn't
bring it up?" He lifted both arms up, beer bottle still in one hand.
"The fuck am I gonna do now?!
And besides, Drewseph--" His arms back down to the water with a splash.
"I just - I just done told you, dude, why, why would you think you'd do anything that would make me - make me
not wanna be your brother, make me stop - stop thinking you're my best
friend?" Andrew was wounded by the
question - even more wounded when he knew how absolutely right Stephen was.
"Stevie - Stevie don't--" "No - no. Listen to me. I'm sorry I hooked up
with Bligh and we had a thing for a few months, I'm sorry, that was fucked up
of me as your brother, dude, I get it, I didn't want to regret it because
regretting's for faggots but fuck dude
- I regret it, I'm sorry as fuck, okay? I'm sorry Bligh - Bligh, that, that Bligh - is my ex-boyfriend. He's
right - he's absolutely fucking right, I'm a goddam mistake, and I'm sorry I
brought it up tonight, but Drewseph--" He moved through the water to come
to Andrew's shoes - he stared at them, as though too afraid to look above him
into his own brother's face. "Nothing's gonna change - not - you - me,
Bligh - Dako - Cody...it's all..."
He shook his head. "You've...been everything to me, and - who - cares you're a different - different -
dog - wolf - man - species?" A
small silence passed, and his eyes dropped all the way to the water.
"You're still my brother..." Andrew was moved by the
spectacle - the lingering burn of jealousy was finally being eased, and seeing
his brother, utterly defenseless, nearly broken, he did what, for so long,
seemed unthinkable...it was time to show him, even in a small way, how Stephen
could know that Andrew trusted him. He pulled up his pants
legs, and kicked off his shoes. His pawed feet - the
claw-like toenails, the leathery pads on the bottom - descended into the water,
and Andrew let out a small rush of air as he felt for the first time in a month
his skin, covered in blond fur though it was, be submerged in water, heated to
a temperature that pricked at him pleasantly. The effect was near-euphoric - he
had so longed to go swimming, to feel the liquid magic of water again... His fleeting moment of
ecstasy was interrupted, however, when he glanced down to see Stephen studying
his now-naked footpaws. "Those...too, huh?"
Stephen asked, eyebrows raised - he looked up at his brother. "And a - a
tail? You didn't let me see..." Andrew nodded his affirmation - a very small
smile with it. "You will soon." Stephen did not react - he
merely glanced away. "Half - man - half - dog. So I guess there is
something - something about the dogs in the county..." "I've been wondering
that for awhile now, Brother." Without another word,
Stephen drifted to Andrew's legs, where he embraced both of them - Andrew
suppressed a wince as he felt the legs of his khakis moistened by Stephen's
wheaten hair, matted with chlorinated poolwater. It was uncomfortable in
several ways - he remembered the kiss, so long ago, but for once did not put
his hand to his cheek, because the word, incest,
that Stephen used, had started to bother him. Was that what Stephen had meant -
all those years before - back when his voice was still freshly mutated by the
Appalachians? Wanted ta do that fer ages...was
Stephen in love--? He looked down at his
brother, so fragile in this moment and only in this moment, far away from the
puckish run-with-scissors swathe he had worked so hard splattering across the
world, from the childhood years of being the strange near-mute who almost never
spoke save to his Beagle...and to him. Perhaps it did not matter
what his brother had felt. Only - only what Andrew felt for Cody, for his
puppies...for Bligh, his best friend despite very quite literally everything, and
for Stephen, his brother. And only what
they, in turn, felt for him. Andrew stroked his
brother's hair, feeling the wetness in his fingers, the white patch on his
neck-hair that seemed oddly softer than the rest of his hair. "It's okay,
Brother - it's okay..." A thought occurred to him, and he cleared his
throat, trying to make headway even in this heavy moment. "Hey - l-listen
- listen, I want - I want you to come back to the house with me." "W-wait, what?"
Stephen relinquished his hold on Andrew's legs. "Come back to the
house with me," Andrew repeated. Stephen shook his head
briskly. "N-no, dude, c'mon, not after--" "It'll be fine." "I can't face
Bligh," Stephen whispered - Andrew found himself amused how worried
Stephen was over what Bligh thought
of him. "He--" Stephen's voice increased some. "He must hate me -
and Dako - uh, Cody - too, I really just--" "It's fine, Stevie.
I'll smooth things over - it'll be fine. And you--" He chuckled. "You
got in that hot tub with the only pair of shorts you had on - I - I still got a
few pairs in my closet, you can...wear them." "I'm scrawnier than
you are." Andrew sniffed. "So
wear a belt, I gotta spare." He looked about the hot tub. "Where's
your phone?" "The car - um -
locked. Why?" "Didn't want you
getting it wet." Stephen looked at him
skeptically. "Why you doing this, why you being so nice? Why now?" "Because--" Andrew
smiled knowingly. "You're drunk. And high--" "Not as much anymore -
and I ain't nowhere near as drunk as when you called me that one time."
The demure shrug returned. "I'm not - I'm not repeating myself like a
mental patient, yanno, that's when it gets real
bad." "But you're still
drunk, and you have to drive across the damn bridge, and driving drunk can kill
your ass - fuck it almost did--" "That was one
time," Stephen wryly protested. "One time too
many," Andrew rejoined. "And open container laws are serious shit.
So--" He rose, still with his feet on the first ledge of the hot tub.
"Come on - come on back to the house." Stephen shook his head
again. "Nah dude, I'm not that drunk, I told you already I only had--" "You're lying." Stephen shifted, looking up
at Andrew - his face was wet and coruscating from the water and the half-light
of the apartment complex...he smiled, the mischievous, impish smile of infinite
jest returning for the first time since Andrew had approached him there at the
pool. "And if I know you
like I do," Andrew said with a gentle smile. "It's been more than
three beers...and you probably have a - bottle of Maker's in the car?" Stephen shrugged.
"What's it to you?" The smile faded, and
Andrew's mouth twinged - he had not expected to feel so sentimental, so
protective...so soon. "Because I'm worried
about you, Brother." It was Stephen's turn to
have a smile vanish from his face - he seemed confused. "But - why? Dude
I'll be fine, seriously I'm always--" "No," Andrew
said, his heart - the heart that had changed into a dog's since last he had
seen Stephen - tightening in his chest, and his ears inside his hat struggling
to go flat. "No - no, Brother, no." He reached down and stroked
his brother's cheek with the back of his hand - he only wanted to touch him,
platonically, to reassure of him of his love and his presence, even if he
suspected that this kind of intimacy would capture something else, something
deeper and divorced from conventional morality...he saw Stephen light up, and
Andrew tried his best to smile at him. "Listen, Stevie - you
left Ma and Pa and you came down here with me and now - we're the - we're the
only family we got left. I mean - Bligh, Cody - they're my family. But - you -
you're blood. The last blood I've got in this world. Understand?" Stephen, too, seemed moved
at the gravity of the moment - it looked, for a just a moment, like he was
blinking away sudden tears, before his face burst into a smile that tried to be
mischievous but ended up sheepish: "F-fuck you, Drewseph,
that sounds like some shit I'd
say--" Andrew chuckled. "I'm
serious. I been a bad big brother - right? Putting my shit above yours and -
not taking responsibility for stuff that--" He sighed. "Really...doesn't
matter...anymore." Stephen chortled, arising
out of the hot tub once again - his back turned to his brother for a moment, he
chortled again, lower, sadder. Over his shoulder, he glanced to Andrew before
letting his gaze fall to the puddle he was making beneath him - he took a hand
to grasp Walker's tooth that hung around his neck, seeming to clutch it, as
though for strength. "You can never be a
bad brother, Drewseph - bad friend, maybe, but you--" He turned around,
releasing his necklace charm to fold his arms with a smile that was disarmingly
kind. "You - dumb sack of dog
shit you - you--" He pointed.
"--are the only family I
got." His kind smile was murdered a by gleeful, skyward laugh. "See!
My line!" Now he pointed to himself. "My line. I say
that." Andrew laughed - the
tension gone, the forgiveness released, and the weights that he carried with
him for the past hour lifted, he laughed, he put hand to his face and laughed
at Stephen's absurd joke. "Oh Steverino what am
I gonna do with you...?" Stephen reached for the
same shirt that, hopelessly damp, did little to help him dry off. "Lemme
have the couch, for one." The mischievous, vulpine smile returned. Andrew chuckled.
"Alright, Brother - fine. Let's go home - I'll show you how to get
there." "That sounded
meaningful," Stephen said, cocking his head as Andrew stamped his feet dry
and put his shoes back on. "You're so cheesy, yanno that? Disgusting -
just disgusting." "Stevie--" Andrew
pulled his brother into a tight hug. "You are so, so difficult." "But you love
me," Stephen said coyly - he glanced away with a strange, shy smile.
"I love you, yanno..." "I do too,"
Andrew affirmed with a gentle chuckle. "Now dry off and get your ass
home..." He stepped back to motion with his head to the pool gate.
"With me."