Brotherly Bonding [BoyxBoy]

Brotherly Bonding- 4

I follow Ash into his bedroom and he closes the door, then goes over to a small pile of clothes stacked on his chair and desk. As he starts folding, I look around the room quietly. I've been in here a good amount of times, but not enough to memorize every detail. It's a pretty plain room, not much decoration or mess.

"So we're going out tonight."

"Are we?" I say, shuffling my feet.

"Yeah. Sit on the bed if you want." He keeps his eyes down and his hands moving. I sit, turning back to him. "Where do you think we're going?"

"It's almost obvious..." I reply lightly, close to sarcastic, a smile creeping into my voice. "But, hm. Maybe it could be different this time. Give me hints?"

"Okay." He pats down a shirt and picks up another, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "It's special."

"Surprise surprise!" I laugh lightly.

"It's close."

"Hmmm..."

"It's... Cool?"

"Indeed it is," I quip dryly. I snort at myself.

"Very au natural."

"Mhmm, and?"

"One of the only places we have ever had good memories." He says seriously, throwing aside the clothes in his hands and turning toward me, suddenly the joking sense in my voice is gone.

I nod slowly.

"The pier."

"And the site."

He crouches down in front of me, coming eye level to my rather small figure perched on his bed. He places a hand over mine, resting them gently on my knee.

"Good?" he asks cautiously, like every year we would be going to the place we both remember as a positive. I smile weakly at him, nodding again.

"Good!" Me being completely fine and strong this time of the year was like finding a cat that truly loved water and bathing in scalding water. It might seem like it would, but when I get down to the rough of it... I can't do it alone.

He sighs as he looks at me, taking in the slight shake as I continuously keep moving my head nervously. "Look at me."

I swallow at his demand and comply, looking into his eyes that reflect mine so well. I'm too close to see my reflection, only the colour of his irises, a deep grey blue that matches my own. He is dead serious as I let my eyes wander only slightly, across the planes of his face and up to the deep blonde hair that varies little from what I brush everyday. He's like me, but different in so many ways.

I only realize my trembling has stopped when he leans forward, barely three inches away from my face. I would feel his breath if he opened his mouth. I begin trembling again.

Suddenly he speaks, surprising me. "I'm here. You know that. I may be the last one, but I'll be damned if we're doing it alone. You don't even know what it means, that we have each other. So stop this," He takes my hand for a moment, stopping the subtle shake. "and just remember... If you need to... Cry, or whatever it is, with me it's fine. The guys don't need to know. Your friends don't need to know. No one. Only me, because. You know."

Eyes wide, I silently stare back into his. Usually the speech is shorter, and not necessarily as touching. I nod once more, a slight, real smile taking shape.

He squeezes my hand once more, then stands and finishes his folding. A short conversation further, then we're off. Off to the past.

*

I stand on a jutting rock, hands in the pockets of my jacket. I suck in a breath of forest air, squinting into the light. There's a slight chill, not anything too bad though. After a second of standing, a shiver runs across my spine like a taunting finger. There's a tree to my immediate right, which I turn to and smile, tentively taking a hand out and running my finger along the bark. The insects crawling through the cracks and crevasses don't bother me anymore; I've learned that they are just part of the whole and they shouldn't be disturbed, even if this place feels more like home than I imagine it would to them. A light laugh escapes my lips, almost trilling in the echoing world. It seems too good.

I turn, finding Ash standing a few feet behind me, smiling. The soft light behind him shines through his hair as he steps forward, joining me on the small outcropping. Then he laughs, pushing me, sending me stumbling down off a few feet. I catch myself, then sprint away as he hops down, chasing after at quick pace.

I dodge a few trees, jump a few stumps, trip in a few holes. All the while keeping just out of his grasp. It's all great fun, until I skitter to a halt, gasping. I didn't expect it so soon. Suddenly it doesn't seem all that great of a moment.

Ash barely stops himself soon enough to not knock me over, using my shoulder to steady his weight. He lets out a puff of air as his eyes scan our old safe haven.

Slowly, I put one foot in front of the other. Then the other. I repeat the simple process that seems too difficult to have been exacuting fast-paced just seconds before. I walk to the spot I know we used to pitch our tents at, most of the grass has grown over, except a few small patches of bare dirt. I can see slight indentations in the ground, the exact holes we used to secure the poles. They would have disappeared by now, had they not been roughly tugged and shimmied out of the dirt last time. I let my hand touch down on the soil, rubbing it between my fingers.

Then I turn to the firepit. Black ashes still remain there, from the camping trips and from the four consecutive years Ash and I have returned. I recall how the first year, we almost didn't go. It could have been too hard. We could have to leave and never come back. And we didn't want that. We wanted a good memory in our heads. But still, we bundled up and drove out, then created a new tradition that we continue to keep alive.

I disect the past, the thoughts new and old, then Ash gives me a reassuring pat on the back and goes to gather kindling. As the sky turns a deep purple, I sit on the log as Ash crouches and tries to start a spark. In the end, he magically pulls a pack of matches from his pocket and slyly puts them back when the job is done. It still has a feeling of being official, so I don't complain.

The sky turns black, we just sit and stare into the blazing fire. We each take turns gazing up into the stars. We share stories sometimes, and it's nice to hear of the early days I can't exactly remember. Some of the tales, though I was too young to know them personally, I've heard enough to believe they're my own.

We laugh, and I admittedly feel stinging in my eyes when certain things are mentioned, but it's always disfused by a side comment my brother makes or another story quickly thought of to fill the minature silence.

When I get cold I slide closer, hands tucked back in my pockets again. Then closer, until my arm is pressed against his.

It's a perfect night, in the perfect spot, with the perfect person.

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This is Tyler's POV!

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It was a long day. Me and Ben spent it all running errands, not a habit of ours. Immediately after work, we ran around getting groceries and bringing them back, paying rent, getting real food for Gecko (which we then had to lug back), we did house work, then yard work, not only tidying up inside but outside too. Then we brought all the old shit we cleared from the shed to the dump: a LOT of old shit.

We did all this without a car.

Now we're completely wiped and it's three in the morning. Barely keeping our eyes open, we stumble up the walk and onto the single step. I fumble with the doorknob, even though it's unlocked. We fall through the doorway and decide against the trek up the stairs. Ben follows me to the couch and we plunk down, yawning heavily.

He takes deep breaths, letting his head fall onto my shoulder lightly, leaning against me. With the still and comfortable silence, I look to his smooth, angelic face. I let him lean on me, putting an arm tightly around his waist. With his body secured against mine in a safe grip, we fall asleep. I press my cheek into his hair, my heartbeat comfortably slowing. We don't even hear the soft click of the door, but the people that enter don't notice us either. I sigh and lose myself to the moment, drifting off.