Chapter 5

A hint of zhush

I suppose, then, that your heart has been weeping blood?

-- Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

They never actually made it to the staircase. The moment Laith was spotted among the crowd, Ryan called out his name and walked right over, all hands on his waist and the death of personal space. The arrogance in Ryan, in his disregard for Laith’s consent, thinking this sort of closeness would be welcomed at every turn lit a match in the very center of Theodore’s chest and set fire to it all.

Seething, he watched Ryan take Laith by the waist and kiss down his neck, not really caring that Laith leaned away from him. The urge to rip the two apart almost overtook Theodore, but before doing anything stupid, he glanced at Emily and Sherry who danced behind them. They very well saw Ryan’s grip on Laith and how he squirmed, but didn’t seem to mind it either, dancing with each other, giggling drunk. So Sherry knew about the two of them and just didn’t care—why?

Ryan moved in his peripherals, catching his attention. He made to land a kiss straight on Laith’s mouth, but the very moment Theodore’s brain realized that, he moved without thought. He shoved Ryan on the shoulder just as Laith pushed him off for good, causing him to take two steps back and almost lose balance. It was a shame that he didn’t fall on his ass.

“What the fuck?” Ryan shouted, looking at him for some reason, eyes seeing red. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“He didn’t want to!” Theodore shouted back, but immediately knew it’d been a mistake; the intensity of Ryan’s rage made sure of that.

Ryan charged for him like a bull, fuming in a way he’d never seen before, with pure hatred in his veins. It broke his heart and terrified him all at once. Before Ryan got too close, Laith stepped between the two of them while Emily took hold of Ryan’s arm, a firm enough grip to stagger him backwards.

“Hey, hey! What’s going on here? Why are you acting this way?” Her voice was loud, a cut above the music, vexation in every syllable.

“Ryan—”

“He thinks he’s my boss,” Ryan cut Theodore off, loud and angry. “That he can just waltz in here and push me around like some fucking cop. It’s ridiculous. God, you know what you really are? You’re a fucking charity case. We only put up with you because no one has the balls to tell you how fucking annoying you are.”

“That’s not true,” Theodore immediately rebutted, though his chest ached and his eyes stung. Ugh, not here, not now. “Justin likes me. He invited me here.”

“Because he feels sorry for you, but don’t get it twisted; no one wants to hang out with a fucking kid.”

“Ryan—” Laith started, but Emily spoke over him.

“Okay, that’s enough.” She pressed a palm flat over Ryan’s chest and pushed him back. “You’re way too fucking wasted for this.”

“I’m speaking the truth!”

Emily dragged Ryan away, disappearing behind his girlfriend, who watched everything with a wide grin on her face, delighted at the scene they’d caused in the heart of the party. These outbursts from Ryan were obviously very common, and since she wasn’t involved, she must have found this one terribly entertaining. Ryan shouted something else from behind her, but the music was too loud for Theodore to hear him. As he screamed, Laith left, so Theodore quickly followed.

He thought Laith was going for the stairs, but he went to the bar instead. Considering that the bar was just a few feet away from the staircase, then he might only be stopping for a quick drink. Tequila was poured messily into a cup and knocked back in a single go, Laith’s footing unstable and loose, his neck flashing under the dim light. He set the empty cup down and filled it up one more time, but instead of drinking from it, slid it over to Theodore. The temptation to drink from Laith’s glass was strong, and if a wave of nausea hadn’t crashed into him right then, he might’ve done it.

“I drank way too much last night,” he finally explained, pushing the glass back to Laith. “I still feel sick, but um, thanks.”

“You have to know when to stop.” Laith knocked the shot back.

“I never see you stopping.”

Laith’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, fern leaf hidden from view. “That’s because I’m an idiot.”

“And I’m smart?”

“Yeah.” A shrug. “You’re going to college.”

“That just says I have the means for it.”

“Fair enough, dumbass. Is that better?”

He grinned, one hand playfully shoving Laith on the arm. “Stupid. Are we going up?”

Laith didn’t answer right away, eyes down at the empty shot glass on the counter, smile quickly fading. Oh god, had he changed his mind? Theodore’s pulse skipped, ice running down his veins. “I don’t think we should.”

“Why not?” His lungs barely worked.

“You saw the look on Ryan’s face. You know why this isn’t clever.”

Suddenly, his chest grew warm, heart seized in a tight fist. “Fuck Ryan; he’s not gonna know. He’s not even watching us right now.”

“I don’t know, dude. At this point, we’re just playing with fire.” Dark eyebrows pinched together, worried. “It’s too easy to fuck up with him so close by.”

“So you’re gonna let him dictate what you do next,” he snapped, voice low but firm, hands closed into fists. “What you do with your entire life. You know that, by playing it safe, you’re letting him control you, right? You don’t do what he doesn’t want you to do even if he’s not around to see it. You’re a dog on a leash.”

“I know that.” Suddenly, Laith sounded exhausted. “There’s a lot to it, though. Like, yeah, I am on a leash, but Ryan’s not the reason why. I’m only playing it safe because…” Laith faltered, feet shuffling where he stood. His eyes moved up from the shot glass, but still refused to land on Theodore, staring at the wall behind the bar instead. “I know this isn’t really about us going upstairs, that Ryan is a much bigger problem for you and you want him out of your life, but I can’t see myself in that picture. I just don’t think I can give you that. He’s one of us; if I cut him off, I’m cutting everyone else off too.”

“Bullshit. You’re just trying to justify something you’re not capable of doing. You’re not cutting him off because you can’t, not because you’re afraid you might lose your friends. Don’t you see it? He has you wrapped around his finger.”

“Theo, I want this to last.” Laith finally found his face. His eyes were electric, sending Theodore’s heart leaping for his throat. “That’s the only reason I’m even going behind his back at all.”

Theodore’s lips parted, but nothing came out. No, he’d stopped himself. He had to be smart about this. His first instinct was to match Laith’s vulnerability and bare his heart, but that was the stupidest thing he could do. The intensity of his feelings for Laith would undoubtedly scare him off. Of course he wanted this to last; my god, it was the only thing he cared about.

An evil little voice spoke to him from the depths of his mind. It brought forth an unethical yet lucrative proposal—his chance of winning the game. Maybe not the whole game, but it’d definitely put his foot in the door, or at least, shove Ryan out of the spotlight. This was war.

“You know…” he started, voice low and treacherous, “he’s not gonna kill what we have, even if he does find out about it. We’re the only ones who can do that.”

“Sure, but he’ll make my life a living hell.”

“Ah… so that’s it, really; you’re just looking out for yourself. Fuck what I want, as long as you appease to your king and keep your head on your shoulders, huh? Cool.”

Laith damn near rolled his eyes. “That’s not it, man; I’m hanging off a precipice here. He could push me off at any time.”

“No, I get it; he comes first. Whatever he wants comes first; I’m just an afterthought.”

“Theo…” Laith sighed, lips pursed. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t pretend you’re not important to me. You know how much I’d do for you.”

“Oh, I know I’m important; I never claimed that. He’s just more important than me. I mean, he was yours first.”

Laith dropped the stare, pensive, so he continued.

“Everything we do only ever happens after checking in with him. Does he want to see you this weekend? Is he going to miss you this Friday? Will he suspect anything if you show up with hickeys the next day? It’s like you two are married and you’re cheating on him.”

A scowl slowly formed on Laith’s forehead, pushing a crease between his brows.

“Laith…” His voice softened, a whisper to drive his point home and win it. “When I kissed you, I didn’t think I’d become your second choice.”

That comment prompted Laith to glance up at him again, this time with hurt and guilt written all over his face. Oh, what a homerun. His argument was worthy of celebration, really, but later. Right now, he had to score a run.

“I didn’t realize that’s how you felt.” Laith’s tone was small and apologetic, eyebrows tilted upwards. “I should’ve thought about you more. You’re right though, like, I’ve only ever had to worry about me, so thinking about other people—thinking about you and what you might be feeling just never crossed my mind. I’m sorry.”

His hand closed into a fist that he had to physically stop from pumping into the air. “It’s okay.” He shrugged, performing sheepishness. “I’ll keep reminding you I’m here.”

“No, I’ll be more considerate. You’re not a second option or a consolation prize; you shouldn’t need to remind me of your fucking worth. That’s fucked up.”

Wait, so if he wasn’t a second option, then was he the… first… option? Everything about this was going far too well to be ruined with a question that stupid, so he swallowed it down and let it consume him. Laith’s first option—he liked the sound of that. If only Ryan were here to hear it.

“I know we’re not together,” he continued, as the last scene in his act, “and asking you to give a shit about me is crossing a line, but if I can’t get that from you, then I just—I don’t think I want to play with you anymore.” He took a step back from the bar, eyes down, pretending not to see the complete shock and heartbreak that twisted Laith’s face. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” Laith stepped forward, hand shooting up to take his arm. “Hey, hey, hold on. Don’t—don’t do that. Just… listen, I do care about you. You know that, Theo; I just need to get better at showing it. I’ll say it more often. I’ll be nicer to you. It’s not the end of the world, man; you don’t have to walk out right now.”

His heart ached. In the silence that followed, he wasn’t sure what to say next, eyes down where Laith held him, a tight grip around his wrist. Still, for as firm a hold as this was, he knew that if he fought it, Laith would let go before hurting him.

“Please.” The emotion in Laith’s voice was so heartbreaking that he almost didn’t want to look at him. He couldn’t. Oh god, had he gone too far?

Slowly and already regretting it, he glanced up. Even though he knew what to expect, he still found himself woefully unprepared to actually witness the terror that widened Laith’s eyes and drew his eyebrows upwards, a deep crease between them. It was a miracle that Theodore’s body didn’t tremble from head to toe given the blade that stabbed his heart and twisted with cruelty.

“Ryan’s between us,” he stated, words painfully squeezed out of his throat. This performance was starting to weigh on him.

It didn’t feel worth it anymore.

“No, he isn’t. He doesn’t control me like you think he does.”

“Then prove it.”

The hand around his wrist squeezed it.

One step closed the gap between them, Laith’s legs much longer than his own, and as his pulse raced to the roof of his mouth, Laith planted a kiss square on his lips. The firmness was both welcome and expected, while the sentimentality of it, the tenderness murdered him right on the spot. His eyes closed, his heart fluttered and all breath left him—he was gone.

A hand touched him on the side of the face so softly that it came off as shy, fingers nestling into his hair, palm warm on his neck. Laith, shy? The most certain and assertive man he knew, desperate? His heart quivered—had he won?

Just as he raised a hand to mimic the one that touched him, Laith ripped away from him like a Band-Aid. It was so sudden that it even pulled a gasp out of him, but before he could get properly angry, he realized that Laith had been pulled away by somebody else. Finding Ryan at the end of that connection wasn’t the shocking part, but the punch thrown directly into Laith’s face, violent enough to knock him against the bar. Without a single coherent thought going through his mind, Theodore stepped between the two and shoved Ryan hard on the chest, pushing him back a couple of steps.

“What the fuck, man!?” he shouted, veins seized by flames. “Are you fucking insane!?”

“Do not fucking touch him!” Ryan shouted back, eyes focused over his shoulder, clearly addressing Laith behind him. “How many times do we need to go over that, huh? How many fucking times and you still do this shit! Goddammit! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Ryan!” His voice was completely ignored.

“One rule,” Ryan continued, still worked up but not quite as loud anymore. “One fucking rule. God, why are you like that? Why do you need everything?”

Emily shouldered her way out of the crowd, a mass of still bodies that did nothing but stand and stare, wide-eyed like zombies. Instead of going for Ryan, as she usually did, she glanced back and forth between all three of them, clearly trying to decide what to do next, how to best disarm the situation. She’d probably expected to find the two engaged in some sort of physical altercation, a common sight, but with Theodore in between them, essentially doing her part, she didn’t know how to proceed.

“He’s not a fucking toy.” Ryan still shouted through gritted teeth and utter rage, but didn’t make any attempts to reach Laith again, one degree calmer than a moment ago. “He’s not even your age!”

“What did he do?” Sherry asked, unveiled by the crowd in a far more elegant manner than Emily’s entrance. It parted open for her without the need to touch a single body, the clacking of her heels on the floorboards completely muffled by the music that, for some reason, still played overhead.

“He—” Ryan couldn’t even finish his sentence, eyes glancing back at her. As they held the stare, his breathing began to even out.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” She smirked. The smugness in her tone rose color to Ryan’s face. “He’s fucking your brother too.”

Theodore parted his lips to defend Laith, but Emily moved so suddenly that it startled the words right out of his mouth. She strode past him, took Laith by the arm and staggered him into movement, shoving him hard towards the crowd. Theodore had no idea what he’d been doing this whole time, but if he had to guess, then either tending to the damage that the punch had done or simply standing too shocked to say a word. When Emily and Laith disappeared, he turned back around to find both Ryan and his girlfriend staring back at him. It made the hairs on his neck stand on end, pulse skipping a beat. Sherry walked over very carefully, the dim lighting in the room shining beautifully over the sequins of her dress.

“Theo,” she started, head tilting sympathetically to the side.

At the lack of further confrontation, the crowd began to dissipate, resuming the party.

“What did you two do together?” she asked.

His eyes glanced between her and Ryan.

“We had fun. It’s not any more serious than whatever you two have.”

“You’re not old enough for him,” Ryan asserted.

“Yeah, I am. The State of Oregon says that I am.”

“That’s not what I mean. You don’t understand what you’re getting yourself into. You have no idea what kind of person he is.”

“Maybe not, but I don’t think you do either. Being older doesn’t make you an expert on everything, much less on him.”

“What’s his last name?”

He held the stare, mind completely blank. Fuck. No, this wasn’t going to shake him; it didn’t mean anything. “I couldn’t really ask with his cock down my throat, could I?” It hadn’t gone that far, but his point still stood.

Ryan set his jaw. “I need you to stay away from him—from everyone here.”

“Yeah?” Theodore grinned. “What makes you think I can’t handle them? Why am I the one at risk of breaking, while you’re so tough and strong that you can take them all without issue?”

“You don’t belong here!” That wasn’t loud enough to be a shout, only the overpressure of exasperation. “Our world is completely different from yours,” Ryan continued. “We have nothing in common. You don’t belong with Laith as much as I don’t belong with one of your friends. You’re not cut out to handle him.”

“But you are.”

“More than you could ever be.” Ryan’s voice grew low and vicious, one step taken forward. “Now leave me and my people the fuck alone.”

Despite the menacing tone and the unkind attitude, Theodore wasn’t shaken. Yes, everything Ryan had just said bothered him, but he wasn’t about to let that get to him. There was no explanation as to why two brothers who lived their entire lives together would be so fundamentally different. Laith had said Theodore didn’t belong because he had the means for a better life than the tunnels, and regardless of biological parenting, Henry would’ve given Ryan the exact same opportunities if he’d cooperated. The only difference between them was that Ryan didn’t want to be a rich little kid, so he’d refused every gift and turned down every opportunity just to fit in with the other rats, but the fact of the matter was that he didn’t belong either. So no, Theodore wasn’t shaken.

“Justin likes me, Laith likes me and I have Emily’s phone number.” He touched his fingertips while counting, starting with his pinky. “I can leave you alone, but considering I’m already friends with the others, I’ll have to let them decide whether or not they want to nurture our friendship. You can’t decide for them.”

Blonde eyebrows quirked close together for just one moment, a brief break into Ryan’s steadfastness, but a break nonetheless. Ryan was cracking. “You’re not friends with anyone here.” That attempt at rebuttal would never succeed without the necessary conviction to make it true, Ryan’s tone like a wet noodle slapping on the ground, spineless. Theodore almost laughed at it. The urge shot up his throat like a rocket, and to keep it down, he was forced to purse his lips into faux skepticism.

“I don’t think Justin would say that and I know Laith wouldn’t. Even if Emily agreed with you, two out of three isn’t bad. Just because you’re not there when I’m with them doesn’t mean what we have is any less real.”

There was some truth to that lie, enough that if he’d switched them for him it would’ve been nothing but facts, but the way he’d said it was a lot more impactful. It created an illusion of reach over Ryan’s friends that he didn’t actually have.

The scowl on Ryan’s face grew incredibly worried as he talked—another major win. “When do you hang out with them?” The question was surprisingly genuine, a peek at the vulnerable man hiding behind the veil. Scaring his brother shitless was… fun.

“We’ve been hanging out on and off throughout the week, while classes haven’t started. I know you guys meet up over the weekend, so.” He shrugged.

Ryan took a step back, slowly, with fear in his eyes and wariness on his face. What? he didn’t ask—what are you so afraid of? That I’ve stolen your friends? That I’ve infiltrated your double life? That I’m just a little too close to seeing who you really are? Questions festered under a twisted sense of pride, showcased by a big smile that stretched across his face, gloating. Ryan had run from him for way too long, denying his roots, pushing his family away, but Theodore had finally caught up. It’d only taken him some time. Still smiling, he watched Ryan turn and leave, his body easily swallowed up by the crowd, not a trace left behind.

“Well, you’ve scared him proper now.” Sherry’s voice reached him from the left, where she’d watched the whole showdown happen without a single word. If it were Emily, their argument would’ve been over twenty minutes ago.

Out of pure instinct, he opened his mouth to apologize, but before anything came out, realized he wouldn’t mean it. It was a difficult habit to break after so many years of conditioning. True to himself, he said something else instead. “I hope he doesn’t make this your problem too.”

A smile curled the corners of her lips as she reached over the bar, her long braids moving elegantly over a shoulder, hip touching the higher counter. It was an easy reach for her, with long arms and long legs, to retrieve a bottle from the lower counter. Brandy.

“Rest assured that if I do become involved, it’s because I chose to.” A steady hand refilled her cocktail class, dark red liquid swirling like see-through wine. “Ryan has no power over me.”

“I see that.” In a moment of clarity, he decided to be honest. “I like that about you, how little influence he has over you. He lashes out and you just drink your martini. You don’t rush to him like Emily does.”

“It’s not a martini just because it’s in the right glass.” She placed the bottle back down, her tone light and friendly. “This is straight brandy.”

“Martinis take effort.”

“Exactly.” She grinned. Her metal bracelets caught the light as the glass came up for a sip; the accessories in her hair shone, her dress in dozens of different shades of red. The brandy seemed to only graze her lips, barely wetting them at all, her lipstick perfectly intact. She was godly.

“Emily cares very much about him,” she continued, her voice a low kind of feminine, rich and elegant. Actually, everything about her was rich and elegant, from the stones in her necklace to the gold of her jewelry. “She sees him as a brother.”

“She said that about Laith too.” He almost scoffed. “Sounds like an only child to me. Honestly, if she wants Ryan as her brother, she should just take him.”

“They’re living together for a reason.”

He looked at her. “What do you see in him? Why are you with him?”

She swirled the brandy in her glass. “He’s curious. There’s enough independence in him that lets him carry out his day-to-day life without trouble, but when it comes to major life decisions—ones that involve the future, for example—he freezes up. He’s utterly useless. He needs a rock as much as I enjoy being one.”

Hm.

“So he’s a charity case, then.”

She shook her head, makeup shining over her eyes. “He’s a man with a lot of untapped potential. He’s delightful and entertaining, but under all of that projected strength is a well of sorrows. It’s fascinating—I have no idea who he truly is.”

“It sounds like you’re just dating him because you’re curious.”

“What’s so bad about that? I believe utter fascination is reason enough to get close to someone. Tell me Laith doesn’t fascinate you too.”

Okay, she had a point.

“I’m too young for him, don’t you know?” His tone was sarcastic, a satire of Ryan’s earlier comment. “He’s like my fucking grandpa, I guess.”

She grinned from ear to ear. “The irony when he said that. Ryan and I are six years apart.”

His eyebrows raised with delight.

“It was a failed act of reasoning,” she continued. “What he really meant was to highlight the differences between you two; the lives you lead, worlds apart, except that doesn’t necessarily mean you shouldn’t be together. There’s a certain number of differences between two people that keeps the relationship fresh, while fundamental agreements form those very bonds. What he doesn’t realize is that you two have a lot in common as well.”

He moved his head, eyebrows drawn together. How did she know that?

“Did Laith tell you that?”

“Of course not.” She sipped on the brandy, pink nail polish gleaming in the low light. “He doesn’t speak about you at all.”

Huh.

“I’m making claims based on what I know to be factual. You’ve spent time together and clearly get along, so the similarities between you two must outweigh the differences. It’s simple deduction.”

“I get why he called you a diplomat. You must work in PR.”

She grinned. “Good observation. You’re not wrong about that at all.”

“Does that make you Burman’s PR manager, then?”

“Bingo.”

He frowned with both eyebrows raised, impressed with himself. What a shot.

“Laith’s a sweetheart,” she continued, her tone a combination of matter of fact and fondness. “Normally, I’d tell you not to get your hopes up, but this time, I’m not so sure. He was very adamant about keeping you a secret from us… It makes me believe you’re a lot more important than he lets on.”

“He didn’t talk about me because he didn’t want Ryan to know.” Exhaustion came over him at the mere mention of his brother’s name, weight sitting heavy upon his shoulders. Could they just get past this? “That was our whole thing, but…”

“Now that everybody knows, there’s no need to hide,” she finished the sentence for him.

As he nodded, she continued.

“Well, I don’t think that was the only reason he was keeping you from us. It’s true that I don’t know Laith as well as the others do, but I’ve known him for long enough that his patterns have become perfectly predictable. You know what’s something he’s never done? Hide his partners. He doesn’t care if everybody knows the people he’s slept with, or if they’d slept with each other in the past; what they did, how it went. Hell, we’ve discussed the men we had in common and what they did in bed! Laith can be a very private person, but not when it comes to that.”

“So because he didn’t speak about me, which, once again, was because of Ryan, you think I’m some kind of special guy he’s interested in. Like, actually interested in, the way he’s never felt for anybody else.” He stared at her, eyes half-lidded. “Yeah, sure.”

She shrugged, one hand holding the glass close to her face for a future sip. “Believe what you want, Theo; I’m just giving you my two cents. He has a special fondness for you.”

That last comment reminded him of the kiss from earlier, sweet and careful, until Ryan had ripped Laith away for a punch. The thought alone made his stomach burn. In the brief silence between them, Sherry finished her drink.

“I’m not going to humor that,” he explained, a certain sheepishness in his tone, entirely genuine this time around. “It’s a slippery slope.”

“Dangerous, I know. You’re smart in that way, but don’t shun the possibility completely—it could still knock.”

“Or I’ll pretend it can’t. If I don’t get my hopes up, he can’t hurt me.”

In lieu of further argumentation, Sherry pointedly glanced off to the left. She must’ve either seen or heard something that Theodore had missed. Her light brown eyes moved as if tracking a figure within the crowd, a beautiful caramel color he’d never seen on anyone else.

“What do you see?” he asked, only mildly curious.

Her height gave her an advantage over most people here.

“The subject of our conversation. He’s coming over.”

In response to that, he picked up the shot glass Laith had used a moment ago and refilled it with brandy.

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