Chapter Text
I drag my hand across my face, rubbing the sleep out of my crust-riddled eyes. Turning to the side, I see bright red numbers piercing through my vision. I slam my eyelids shut tightly, wait a few seconds, and squint at the clock.
3:15 AM.
Fuckin' fantastic. With a groan, I force myself out of bed and slip my feet into the slippers awaiting me. They're cushy, fluffy slippers, the kind you have for so long that you start to forget where they came from. They were a present, I remembered that much.
Accompanied by the shh-shh of my slippers against the hardwood floors, I navigate my room in the dark, find my shades strewn on a chair, and suddenly my vision has been restored. The bright, blurry shapes snap into recognizable, albeit darker ones. They help me find the dark blue robe I unceremoniously drape over my body so I'm not walking around the house like a zombie in an undershirt and boxers. I don't really have much in my actual bedroom, so I set out to the hallway and eventually the kitchen. I've got the layout of my house mapped out permanently in my head, the mental blueprint allowing me to navigate it with my eyes closed. Which is essentially what I'm doing. The sun hasn't risen, everyone else is asleep, and my prescription sunglasses remove what little light the streetlights shining through the blinds could possibly provide. I can feel the pit in my stomach start to settle in, waking up as I do.
I start a pot of coffee and open the kitchen window. A cool, crisp breeze whispers through the kitchen. I pull up a stool from the island and grab the cancer sticks out of my robe pocket. The light of my Zippo almost blinds me for a second, but the frustration I felt is coaxed out of me with the first draw of that early morning nicotine.
It's peaceful. The world is still asleep, and the cool late fall air mixes with the smell of smoke and fresh coffee. I get off my stool, setting my cigarette on the ashtray next to the sink, and grab my mug. It says #1 mom. I pour coffee into the mug and dump an unmeasured but definitely too much amount of sugar into the black abyss, steaming up my glasses. I take a sip and burn my mouth, tongue, and lips all at the same time.
"fuck!"
I then proceed to very coolly spill the hot coffee on my bare ass legs.
"shit! goddamnit!"
I stand up out of pure instinct and shove the stool backwards suddenly, which knocks it to the ground. I'd been trying to mostly whisper my curses at the world, but this loud ass stool was going to be the death of me. I just woke everyone up. Goodbye, peace and quiet. I swear at the traitorous stool and pray the inanimate object can feel my anger and repent for its crimes against me personally,
"you motherfucker..."
I quickly put the cigarette out and save it for later. I'm coming back for you, darling. I collect myself and brace for impact,
"The fuck are ya doin' in here, David?"
A tall, familiar figure stands at the doorway, switching the lights on in the kitchen. Which, for your information, was like setting off a fucking flash bomb. My poor retinas screamed, and my head, the overreacting thing it always is, pounds. I groan and sit down on a different chair, leaving my previous seat discarded on the floor. I put my head in my hands and rub my temples, trying to ease the jabbing pain.
I don't see him, the lights stay on, and he doesn't say anything. But the general sharp vibe that typically accompanies him has lessened, now cut with an edge of concern.
What the fuck was I doing up at 3 in the morning trying my damndest to act like a ghost in my own house and recoiling from light like it was personally trying to kill me? Fuck if I know. If I did know, I wouldn't tell him anyway. So instead, I stay silent.
"Late night or somethin', kid?"
I wish I had grabbed the mug that said 'dont talk to me before I've had my coffee' so I could just tap it and send him on his way.
"somethin like that..." I grit out.
I finally look up from the spot on the table I was staring at. Dominic was fully dressed, sitting next to me. When did that happen? He's wearing the same stupid costume he always wears. I can't tell if he's just autistic or if he's ironically impersonating a cartoon character at this point. At the doorway, a Katana lay propped against the wood. He must've thought it was an intruder. In this area? Please. He's just always looking for an excuse to use or show it off. I know it's sharp enough to cut through bone. I'd really hate to be the sorry sucker who decided to break into Dominic's house. My house. Whatever. After a long bit of silence where he must think, I'll elaborate, he slices through the quiet.
"Yer usually the yapper, why 'm I holdin' this conversation?"
'maybe because it’s not a conversation.' I want to say, but I don't. Instead, I roll my eyes and pull away when he goes to put his hand on my shoulder. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to talk to anyone. When I stay silent and simply clench my jaw, he presses on.
"Kiddo?"
I shut my eyes and clench my jaw even harder; he was really pissing me off this morning. I turn to face him and hiss in his face,
"ever dawn on you that maybe im hidin in the dark to avoid you?"
For a second, I feel like I saw something in his facial features, but I blink, and it's the same face I've been staring at all my life. It’s always the same story, a micro expression that is barely perceivable for roughly .005 seconds and then nothing. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't move either. But my verbal dam has broken, and now the shit is spilling out, like it always does. The non-reaction makes me seethe.
"jesus christ, why can't you just leave me alone? i clearly dont want to fucking talk to you, you've been livin here for god knows how long, and im sick of you, just move out already. im tired of seein you everytime I turn around or do anythin. I deserve to be able to make a cup of coffee in my own house. this is my house. not yours. fuck off, bro."
Then I do see a reaction. A sharp one. A tightening of the muscles on his jaw, a slight twitch on his lip. A slight clenching of his gloved hands. I brace.
Suddenly, it's bright, it's blurry, my eyes sting, and my face stings. My sunglasses lay discarded on the floor with the stool. And I'm alone in the kitchen. Propped katana absconding with him, like neither of them were ever there. I'd think I imagined it, but the light is still on, and a handprint-shaped painful prickle is still resonating through my face.
He slapped the anger right out of me. So, I retrieved my sunglasses and just took a sip of my coffee, which was no longer burn your face and make a fool of yourself hot, and I re-lit my cigarette.
Times like this, I miss my sister. Always older and wiser than me. But honestly, I probably would have snapped at her, too. With her know-it-all analytical bullshit. Like she knows me. Nobody knows me. I don't know me. Maybe my brother? Hah, no. Let's not go down that memory lane. Swerve away from that path, David! End up in a ditch if you have to, plead guilty to a DUI, just don't get on that road.
I sigh, finish my two daily vices, and head into my office. I've got a few more hours until I've gotta get the kid ready for school, and nothing gets me out of the maze that is my thoughts quite like drowning myself in work.
After scrawling some indecipherable shit to myself for some number of hours, I decide I ought to get off my ass and wake up my son. But first, I should probably get dressed. I throw a beanie on over my long, wretched hair, which I throw up in a bun simply to avoid having to brush, put on a simple pair of jeans and a hoodie, and I'm set for the day.
Before I head up to Clem's, I make a pit stop in the kitchen and start whipping up some fire pancakes. I have some extra time, so I pull out all the stops. I start defrosting the bacon and pull out some orange juice for the kid and some apple juice for me. I think I have time to go wake up the kid before it's time to flip the pancakes, so I sprint up the stairs and slow down before I get to his door. I knock three times gently and creak open the door. He's such a little angel asleep in his bed. I try to navigate the room without waking him up and pull out some clothes for him to wear. I drape them over the side of his dresser and take a sit on his bed. I can feel it dip under my weight, and he starts to stir.
I brush some of his unruly hair out of his face and give him a small shake. His eyes peek open, and he shuts them immediately with a giggle.
"good mooorrrniinn~" I sing and pull the blankets off of him in a whip.
"noo daddy im still asleep!" he protests with his eyes pinched shut and a smile across his face.
"c'mon kiddo, I'm burnin the pancakes as we speak."
"NO!" he jumps out of bed and shoves me out his door (I let him shove me out the door, he is not ungodly strong).
"I put your clothes on your dresser! get them on," I say through the closing door.
"daddy! I don't want burned pancakes! go, go, go!"
I laugh to myself, and my smile is back. I head back downstairs and give myself the half-burnt, half-undercooked pancake and make another for Clem, popping the bacon in the oven as I do. I grab a plate and line it with paper towels to dab off the bacon grease. I finally pick up the stool off the ground and finish plating Clem's pancake just as he squeezes himself into the too-tall kitchen chair. He's wearing what I put out for him, mostly. He's wearing my brother's sunglasses too, and I feel a pang in my heart. But he's loved them ever since he was a baby, and I don't fight it anymore.
I place his pancake in front of him and put some whipped cream on it in the shape of my sunglasses. He throws a handful of blueberries on it and grins.
I set up my plate and check on the bacon, the smell wafting through the kitchen. They need a few more minutes. So, in the meantime, I guess I should get the kid some juice.
"watcha thinkin, oj or aj?"
"I want grape juice like aunt rose!"
"I dont have any grape juice cuz aunt rose is still in new york."
He pouts, and I think he's gonna start crying. So I quickly plate the bacon, dab off the grease, and put two pieces on his plate. I think he forgot why he was going to cry, so I pour him, and myself, some apple juice and I don't ask again to avoid a meltdown. I pop a bendy straw into his glass to try to avoid any spills. Just as I go to sit down and enjoy my breakfast, y'know, the one I slaved over, Dominic saunters in and pours himself a coffee. I've always wondered if he can read my mind, because he decides to grab the 'don't talk to me until I've had my coffee' coffee mug, and he stares at me the whole time he's doing so.
He grabs the plate of bacon and leaves. I let out a huff and dig into my both my under- and overcooked pancake. Which I eat without further complaint and a copious amount of syrup. I really wanted that fucking bacon.
Clem is staring at me and trying to rip his pancake apart with the baby fork I provided for him. He seems intent on cutting it himself, but I can’t bear to watch for any longer. I slide his plate towards me and cut it up, and slide it back over. He pouts a bit, but he shoves that pout full of syrup and whipped cream and... his teachers are going to hate me.
I chug the apple juice in a cool 2 seconds and dump the rest of my pancake in the trash. It's one of those automatic ones, and it’s a pain in my ass. I start cleaning as Clem eats and get lost in my head a bit. If it weren't for this kid, I'd have probably offed myself years ago. I can't tell if I'm grateful or if I feel resentment for the loss of the option. But whoever left him on my step chose me despite every other more reasonable option in the world, hell, even on this street. I sigh, and just as I'm drying my #1 mom mug, Clem exclaims,
"All done, daddy!"
I go over to assess the situation. No veggies with breakfast, so there's a fairly clean plate.
"nice job lil man"
I give him a fist bump, scrape his plate and start to clean it as he finishes his apple juice and lets his little legs swing. I finish up and pull up his little steps to the sink.
"wash your hands now, kid. i'm gonna grab your backpack."
I leave the kitchen and find it in the living room. I put the papers on the coffee table into their designated folders and slide them into his tiny backpack. It’s so small... I slide it over my shoulder and head to prop it in the entryway-hallway by the front door. Before I can take two steps, Dominic stands in front of me, arms crossed against his chest. I look up at him. No emotions, of course. I roll my eyes, and my sunglasses probably save me from another slap there. He still hasn't spoken.
"what?"
"Yer comin' back here when yer done droppin' the kid off, kay?"
He says it like a question, but it's not a question. I huff and shove past him, and he, very uncharacteristically, lets me.
I put Clem's backpack down and make sure it's properly zipped. I start entertaining the idea of not listening to Dominic and doing something in town until it’s time to pick Clem back up from school. Oh shit.
"Clem! c'mon lil dude, it's time to go! your teachers gonna rip me a new one if you arent on time."
Clem shows up, smile beaming, a rainbow dash plushie in his arms, still wearing my brother's glasses, hair a mess. Oh fuck. I didn't brush his hair. I grab the emergency hairbrush I keep in my key bowl and ask him to sit on the stairs as I work out the tangles. He grips the plushie tightly every time I encounter something rough. I wish he'd let me just cut it; it would easily save us 5 minutes every morning. He just wants to be like you, Rose would say. He's talking about his favorite teacher at school and how there's a new kid at school, and I'm paying attention, but I'm paying more attention to not hurting him as I coax this rat's nest out of his hair.
"aight, all done kid. go brush your teeth and we'll head out. i'm timing you, 2 minutes."
I head into the kitchen to tuck Clem's steps under the sink, put the juices back in the fridge, and finish washing the glasses and Clem's favorite fork. I'll put them away when I get back. I keep forgetting I can use the dishwasher. It's a fully usable appliance. There isn't shit like weapons inside it. It's just sitting there, empty and unused.
Clem comes out of the bathroom with a skip. 1 minute 30 seconds. Close enough. I shrug his backpack over my shoulders and pick up Clem.
"alright bud let's get a move on. I think that drop off lady hates me personally n I dont wanna piss her off more."
She's probably like that with everyone, but the fact that I promised to replace that permanent scowl on her face some odd number of weeks ago when I was out of my mind in a dark bar, and instead of delivering, I absconded like a drunk virgin out of her bathroom window without so much as a goodbye? That probably didn't help my case. I've been doing that a lot lately. It's like I'm so down until they actually agree, and then my blood runs cold. I either see it through and hate myself or run away. I think that Rose would probably have something to say about that. I look back at Clem; he's taking a nap in the backseat. There's nothing to keep me out of my head, so I'm driving, but I'm also...
****
10 years ago....
I'm sitting in Jade's dad's truck. She has a car, but she shares it with John. I do not have a car despite being 17, so James's truck it is. She wants to escalate things, and I'm laughing. I've been basically dating her throughout all of high school. We kiss in public, everyone thinks we've done shit, and neither of us has done anything to put the rumors to rest, but we haven't. It's not like I was unpopular and dating her definitely came with perks when it came to the high school social hierarchy. The irony certainly hit me, and I was just laughing in her face. She huffed and crossed her arms, looking away from me and out the window. We were parked far away from civilization, as teenagers do when they don’t want to be bothered by adults. I didn’t mean to piss her off, that's just something I tend to do.
"aw jadey m sorry. ya just know how I am with this shit, what if we get caught?"
"that has literally never stopped you from doing anything else strider. so what is it really?"
I pause, she's right. But I don't really feel like doing any introspective thinking right now, so I blurt out,
"prom?" and my voice sounded squeaky and scared and uncharacteristically high. She hesitates, and I can see her trying to hide her excitement, but she isn't doing it well. It's cute.
" you mean you'll...."
"yeah, prom night. gotta keep it special for my special girl."
I give her a kiss on the hand, and that seems to help ease the anger out of her.
"think bout it, we'll be all dressed up, a lil tipsy, we can take your dad's truck out here and look up at the stars. nobody'll expect us back for hours- we just skip post prom and have our own."
"yeah, okay. it's a date." she giggles, "besides, we already did the whole 'prom night experience’ junior year. we arent missing out on much."
She beams and gives me a kiss, short and sweet, and hopeful. She lays her head on my shoulder, and I can feel the pit in my stomach get deeper.
****
I snap back to the present as I see the drop-off lady's face scowling at me. I turn around and nudge Clem awake.
"alright bud, remember you gotta leave dashie with me so I can take care of her while you're gone."
He nods groggily and sets the stuffed toy next to his booster seat. Without prompt, he sets Dirk's shades with her as well. He lets out a yawn and a stretch and looks at me expectantly.
"love ya, go get em tiger!"
I squeeze his knee (it’s what I can reach) and unlock his door. He unbuckles and scrambles out of the rear passenger door, barely avoiding a tumble. I reach over and open the passenger door to hand him his backpack.
"love you too daddy! mwah!" and he skedaddles away with the so small backpack almost overwhelming him.
I then proceed to sit for 10 more minutes in the drop-out lane. I swear she hates me, so I lean back in my seat and turn my music up a bit to make the time go by faster. And my mind drifts...
****
Prom night, I was all dressed up. I wore a rented tux, black, with a skinny red tie in a Windsor knot. It was hell to learn back in Junior year, but James helped me out, and I learned a lot more than just the Windsor. I couldn't afford the shoes, so I wore my regular beat-up ones, but I tried to clean off the scuff marks, and I replaced the shoelaces with red ones so they'd match. I was so anxious my hands were shaking, and as I looked into my reflection, I almost didn't recognize myself. I straightened my lapels and pretended I was a big-time Hollywood producer and paparazzi was hounding my ass.
"please ladies, please. there's enough of me to go around."
I turned my shoulder and gave my reflection a wink. Yeah, this persona was gonna work. I heard three soft knocks on the door, and I ran outside, grabbing my camera and my phone. I was trying to beat everyone else in the house. I was sprinting as fast as I could, but by the time I got there, Dominic was already chatting with our visitors. He had his arm leaning against the door frame and he towered over James and Jade. I couldn't tell which of them he was flirting with, and it pissed me off. I clenched my fists,
"hey dad, fuck off would ya? thats my date."
I saw James cringe at my language and Jade hide a laugh behind her hand. Dominic grunted, but for his credit, he did in fact, fuck off. Not all the way, but he stepped aside.
"you look very handsome, dave." Jade was wearing a puffy tulle dress that ended before her knees, and she must have read my mind, because she was wearing her normal shoes too. Fuck the heels, she had said last time, you can't dance in heels!
"you too. I mean, you look beautiful."
She laughs, and it lights up her face,
"you too." She winks, and I laugh like her joy is contagious. The pit in my stomach is growing bigger.
"Let me take a couple pics of ya kids." Dominic has my camera, and James is standing next to him. James is guiding the two of us on how to pose, and Dominic is taking pictures like he's a professional (he is). The flash keeps blinding me, and I'm quickly getting a headache.
"Okay, okay, enough, dad. we've gotta get going." I grab the camera out of Dominic's hands and leave.
"bye Mr. Strider!" Jade shouts behind her as I shoo her out the door. Outside of the house, I see John standing next to his (and Jade’s) car, and James asks to use my camera to snap a few pictures of the three of us. I oblige and create some really embarrassing memories. James gives Jade his car keys and gestures at Dominic, saying he has a ride. Ugh, gross. John climbs into his and Jade's shared Honda, and Jade climbs into her dad's truck. I climb into the passenger seat right after her.
"bye dad! thanks for the truck!" She waves with her head out the window as she pulls away, and I can see James about to have a fucking heart attack.
"EYES ON THE ROAD, JADELYN!" oof, full named.
"YOU TOO, JOHNATHAN!" There's the twin-shared blame. I can picture John shaking his head and saying he didn't do shit.
When I get out of my head, I've pulled into a local bar I frequent. I pull off my shades once I'm inside the dimly lit bar, not really caring that I can’t see shit, at least not properly, and rest them on top of my head. Douchebags wear glasses inside. The bartender gives me my regular drink without me having to say a thing, and I'm eternally grateful for him. I smile and give him a wink (and a $20 tip). After a few drinks and roughly $100 lighter (I have a big tipping habit, and I can't let the guy down), I have half a mind to take him home with me. I know his shift ends soon, and he's let on a few times that he would be into it. I put on the persona I had perfected in my senior year of high school and slide up to the bar. Shooting him one of my patented strider smiles, I ask if he's got plans. He scrawls his phone number on a beverage napkin and gives me a wink. I take the cue to fuck off into the corner and shoot him a text.
hey, this is david.
Finally, a name to the face! You always pay cash so I can't cheat and look at your credit card. ;)
hey ya know, secret money from the government and all. I used to sling drinks too, I know how it works.
Yeah yeah, listen I get off in about 5 but I think you knew that. Pick me up round back?
aye aye cap'n! but I think I can get you to last a little more than 5 if ya know what I mean.
That was terrible!
But I can see him stifle a laugh before he sets his phone down to help a customer tab out. I save his contact under "mark hot bartender," and since I'm all paid up, I pop my glasses on my face once again and decide to head out, pulling my car out to the back and rolling down the window so he can see me.
****
Jade and I got fucking blasted during Prom, I was even on the dance floor shaking my ass with her. I'd spin her, and she'd lose her balance, and I'd have to catch her. She'd laugh, and her head would fall backwards. All the pins she had in her hair were uncomfortable, so she took them out, and her long black, curly hair cascades down her shoulders. I'd give her a kiss on her collarbones, and she'd lean her head into my chest for a slow dance. Just as people were starting to leave, she drags me to the bathroom. She drunkenly whispers something in my ear that I couldn't have deciphered if I were stone cold sober, but she was laughing so I was laughing.
"okay?"
I have no idea what I'm agreeing to, but I flip my shades up and kiss her lips and agree.
"okay." She giggles and jumps up and down. She grabs my hand and drags me to her car, grabbing two bottles of water from the now melted ice buckets at the front and throwing them in the backseat.
"vamos!" She put the keys in and shifted to drive, and now I was really wondering what I agreed to.
****
"David?" Mark's face was in front of mine. I smile,
"the one and only, you cool with taking my car?" He gives me a nod, so I open the door for him, almost gentlemanly except I didn’t get off my ass.
"are ya cool with goin ta mine? I dont mind either way I jus figured ya didnt wanna give me your addy or anythin." My accent tended to slip through the more alcohol was in my system. He seems to smile at that, like he knew me.
"Yeah, my roommate's at home. That would be better." It seemed like he cringed a bit when he mentioned his roommate. I wanted to know more, but I need to remind myself that this was just a hookup. Nothing more.
"aight, buckle up marky, let's get this show on the road." I shift into drive and get us on our way. I didn't live far, so a bit of flirting and a bit of small talk later, we were here. I don't remember locking the door, so I just open it, and yeah, I had forgotten to lock it. I wrap my arm around his waist and pull him inside, pressing a kiss against his lips as soon as I had closed and locked the door behind me. He laughs at my enthusiasm and whispers,
"Nice place," against my lips.
"ya had ta know a lil bit." I whisper back. He doesn't answer and we lose ourselves in a heavy macking session for about 10 minutes. Eventually, he pulls away,
"Are you going to show me the bedroom or what?" There's a cocky shine to his eyes and a wet shine to his lips. I take a second to compose myself, staring at his lips and nod.
"uh, yeah. this way, señor." I gesture to my bedroom and open the door for him. He looks around a little bit and slips his shoes off. I follow suit as he sits on my bed and looks up at me. I immediately fall into him, untucking his shirt to run my hands up his back. I find myself in his lap, leaning him backwards and not breaking contact as I slowly unbutton his stupid hot work uniform. He shoves it off and grabs my glasses and hat when I need to take a breather, and puts them off to the side. He's blurry now, but I don't need to see him. That's what my hands are for. I pull off my hoodie, and my undershirt comes off with it. Now we're both shirtless. I start to work on his neck, and now he's gasping as I leave purple and red kisses on his collarbones. I've spent long enough staring; I know where his shirt would cover them. I want to lose myself in him.
****
Jade pulls into the same spot where I had made the agreement. She immediately shimmies off her dress, and I take note and start to take off my shirt and jacket. She tells me to leave the tie, so I do. I'm a pretty good listener. She leaves on her socks, I leave on my pants, and we both leave on our underwear and shoes. She kisses me, hard, and for the first time, I'm just as enthusiastic as she is. We stay like that for about 15 minutes until she gets fed up and abruptly leaves the truck's cab. My mind starts reeling, thinking I did something wrong, until she opens my door and yanks me out by my wrist. She presses me against the truck's side, yanking me down by my tie to kiss me. My knees feel weak, but for once, I don't feel that pit inside my stomach. I smile against her lips, and she takes that as her cue to pull me into the truck's bed with her. It's hard, despite the blanket she had apparently put back there. She crawls on top of my lap and pushes my back flush against the cold blanket. She starts leaving sloppy kisses down my neck and chest, and abruptly undoes my belt, my pants button, and zipper before I can even properly process it. She seems hungry.
****
I'm hungry as I pull down Mark's pants and shimmy mine off as well. Grateful we both opted to take our shoes off earlier, so it's less of a struggle. I don't know where I throw them, that's future me's problem. He scans me up and down, likely noting the scars that decorate my body. Whatever, it adds to the mystery. He pulls me down and silences my thoughts with a kiss. I've apparently teased him for long enough because I'm suddenly on my back and he's pulling off my underwear, kissing my thighs, and groaning as he does. I did not anticipate losing control in this endeavor, but my mind is foggy, and his mouth feels good. I don’t bother trying to be quiet, I’m probably never gonna see him again. He wraps his hand around my dick and kisses me hard and hungry, and the pit in my stomach isn't there anymore.