Crane - Chapter 7 Posted

@ PensAndSword... your wish is my command!

Okay, FINE, I'm a big fat liar. So sue me. I HAD TO KEEP WRITING THIS. I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll put them away and go work on the other story now. *slinks away*

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“I can’t believe I actually did that.” Zeke groaned, easing himself down the basement stairs. Everything hurt; his back, his stomach, his arms, his legs. He was NOT good at paint ball. “I swear, I’ll get back at him for this.”

Crane followed him down. “Well, you got him good at the end of it, at least.” He said with a tiny shrug, watching Zeke wince his way to his bed. “It’s nice to see you took my bull advice seriously. Straight shot to the balls.” he chuckled.

“Seth’s not a bully.”

“He is, a little.” Crane sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Zeke try to get comfortable. “Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay to you?” Zeke asked irritably. “Christ, my back.” Wincing, he rolled over onto his stomach. “I’m dying.” he moaned into his pillow.

“You’re not dying, you’re just bruised.” Crane smiled. “And still covered in paint.”

“Yea, well, when I can stand long enough to shower, I’ll care.” Zeke told him. “It feels like I got tooled up on with a baseball bat.” He heard Crane sigh, then the bed shifted and he felt cool, smooth fingers on the small of his back, pushing his shirt up. He jerked away, hurting himself. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Looking at the damage. Hold still.” Crane grabbed his hip, pushing his thumb into a bruise in the process, and pinned him down.

“I really don’t think you-” Zeke cut off, hissing through his teeth at the pain, and Crane pushed his shirt up. “Is it bad?”

“Well, it’s not pretty.” Crane admitted. “You look like a Dalmatian.” he chuckled, prodding the skin under Zeke’s shoulder blades gently. Zeke restrained himself from the urge to bolt. “You’ll live though. You bruise easily, huh?”

“Yea.” Zeke mumbled, and felt Crane pull his shirt back down, then smooth it softly with one hand, from the back of his neck to the waistband of his jeans. “Did you get hit?”

“No.”

“Not once?” he asked, unbelieving.

“Pearl’s an awful shot.” Crane told him. “You need anything?”

“Not unless you have a seriously large amount of drugs.” Zeke told him, and buried his face in his pillow. “God, I hate Seth sometimes.”

Whatever Crane was going to say was cut off by the sound of tiny feet pounding down the stairs. “Dinner’s ready.” Kay chimed, and May added, “Oooh, is Zeke dead?”

“Yes.” Zeke said into his pillow, and Crane laughed.

“No, he’s just sore. We’ll be up in a minute.” Zeke heard the twins go back upstairs, and then Crane’s hand was on the small of his back again; above his shirt, but it didn’t change the way it made Zeke cringe. “Do you want me to ask your mother if you can eat downstairs? I can bring it down for you, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Zeke thought about it, and decided it was probably best. The idea of having to climb those steps made him want to curl up into a ball and cry, but that would probably hurt too. Crane got up and went upstairs, and Zeke was left alone for a while. He struggled up into a sitting position, propping his pillows up against his headboard, then leaned back against them with a wince.

He wished Crane would keep his hands to himself, the whole thing was making him feel like a perverted freak. Despite the fact that he’d tried his damnedest not to think about what had happened the night before at the cabin, his brain refused to let it go. Now, every time Crane touched him, talked to him, or even looked at him, his brain replayed the image in sharp, painful detail. The worst part was that his body was pretty evenly divided about the whole ordeal. Every time his brain replayed it, his stomach would roll, he’d start to sweat, and his cock would act like it was the greatest thing to happen since masturbation was invented. He was not a happy fucking camper, no pun intended.

He thought again about bringing it up to Crane, about telling him he’d seen him, but what would he actually say? “Hey, man, I saw you jerking it on the back deck, what the hell?” Zeke snorted at the thought. And if he did bring it up, what would come of it? What good could there be in bringing it up? Despite the weirdness of the whole thing, Zeke knew he still wanted Crane around; he’d never met anyone like himself before. Crane made him feel simultaneously like less of a weirdo and a million times weirder than before they’d gotten to know each other.

“Oh, just get the fuck over it, already.” Zeke grumbled to himself, running his hands along his face.

“Get over what?” Crane asked, coming down the stairs. Zeke jumped at the sound of his voice, hurting himself again. “You talk to yourself a lot, Zeke?” he was carrying two plates and had a two liter of pop under one arm.

“All the time.” Zeke said, and Crane smiled and handed him his plate. His mother had made chicken and broccoli casserole for dinner. “Glasses?”

“I don’t have germs.” Crane told him. “Do you?”

“I… whatever.” Zeke sighed and shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth. Crane gave him a weary look before sitting down, shaking his head. “What?” he asked through his mouthful.

“You’re just so weird today.” Crane said with a shrug. “I know you’re hurting, but even before the paint ball fiasco… I mean, you wigged out in the car.”

“I did not wig out.” Zeke told him flatly. “And how do you know what’s weird or not concerning my behavior? We’ve known each other three days.”

Crane looked slightly offended. “Point taken.” he said softly, and stood up. “I’m going to go eat upstairs.”

Zeke sighed. “Look, Crane, I-”

“Don’t.” Crane said shortly, before stomping up the stairs and leaving Zeke alone.

Scowling, Zeke set his plate aside, rolled over onto his side with a groan of pain, and closed his eyes. “Fuck this.” he muttered, and willed himself to go to sleep.

The next day he felt better but looked worse. The bruises on his chest and back were all roughly the size of quarters, dark blue with radiating greens and yellows. He looked ridiculous. Showering was a pain in the ass; it hurt to lift his arms up high enough to wash his hair, and washing body was agony; he had to scrub the tender, abused flesh to get the paint residue off.

He couldn’t complete his morning masturbation routine either; his stupid brain and that stupid thing he’d seen took care of that. So, clean and dressed and sore as hell, not to mention pissed off, he went upstairs for breakfast.

Pearl was there, but Crane wasn’t. He didn’t bother to ask where his male cousin was; right now, he didn’t really give a shit. He ate the pancakes and bacon his mother gave him, then walked over to the park with a book. He found his favorite tree, and even though it was uncomfortable to sit on the ground (he had a rather large paint ball bruise on his left butt cheek), he was determined to get some reading done. It was another nice day, and he was going to enjoy it whether he felt like it or not.

However, the book he’d grabbed was about Greek mythology, which got him thinking about Crane, which made him angry. After three pages of reading about which cousins married which cousins, he tossed the book away, disgusted and furious.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” he snarled, covering his face with his hands.

Seth scared the hell out of him by plopping down beside him out of nowhere. “Hey, man.” he said, grinning. “Whew. That cousins of yours? Smoking hot.”

Zeke wanted to reach over and choke him to death. “Seth.” he said his best friend’s name with all the patience and self-control he could scrape together. “The last thing that I want to hear right now is a detailed account of your sexual escapades with my cousin.”

“How about a detailed account of my sexual escapades with your mom?” Seth asked, laughing.

Zeke jumped to his feet, gave the book a solid kick, and stormed away.

“Hey, what the fuck?” Seth called after him. Zeke ignored him, but when Seth caught up and grabbed him by the arm, the pain from the squeeze on his bruised skin made Zeke lose it.

“Get the fuck off of me.” he snarled. “What the hell is wrong with you? Would everyone please fucking learn to keep their hands to their goddamned selves?”

“What the hell is your problem lately?” Seth asked him, looking furious. He had Zeke’s book in one hand. “I swear, lately it’s like you’re PMSing or something. Would you get the fuck over it already?”

“I fucking wish.” Zeke hissed, and snatched his book away. “Look, can everyone just leave me the hell alone for a while?”

“Sure.” Seth nodded, his face darkening. “Whatever, Zeke. Fuck you, too.” he turned and stormed away, and Zeke thought about going after him, but couldn’t find the energy. He went back home, went into the basement, and laid back down.

He knew he was being ridiculous, knew he was lashing out at people he shouldn’t blame for any of what was going on. It wasn’t Seth’s fault, and he knew deep down it wasn’t Crane’s, either. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own for being fucked up and weird. He burrowed his head under his pillows, feeling miserable and sorry for himself.

Some time later he heard footsteps on the stairs, and when someone’s weight settled on the edge of the bed, he smelled his mother’s perfume. “Hey, Ma.” he said quietly, pulling his head out from under his pillows.

She smoothed her hand through his hair. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” she asked him, her voice full of worry. “What happened?”

He sighed. “What do you mean?” he asked.

She was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, she sounded like she was going to cry. “You were so happy those first two days.” she told him. “It seemed like you and Crane were really getting along.”

“We were. It’s not… I’m not mad at him, Ma. It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it? All of a sudden you’re worse off then I’ve seen you in years. You haven’t been this upset since Dad died.”

He closed his eyes. “I don’t want to think about that right now, okay?” he said, but he knew it was too late. He’d done a good job of blocking all of that out. His father had died in an accident with a drunk driver less than a year after the twins were born. He’d loved his father, perhaps more than he loved his mother now, and he hadn’t known how to deal with what had happened. It’d been too abrupt, too awful, and he’d been so young… so he just locked it away. He didn’t want to think about it now, not after all of this.

With a wince, he rolled onto his back and looked at Evangeline. “I’m just going through a lot of screwed up stuff right now, that’s all.”

“Like what, baby?” she brushed his hair back from his forehead and smiled softly. “You can talk to me about anything.”

“Can I?” he asked, and she nodded. “Anything? Like the fact that I’m gay?”

For a split second she looked like he’d slapped her. Then she bit her lip and merely looked curious. “Are you really?” He nodded. “Why tell me now? What’s different?” when he didn’t answer at first, she asked, “You talked to Crane about this, didn’t you?” he nodded. “Honey, you know I don’t care about that sort of thing. You be whatever you want to be, so long as you’re happy.”

“I’m not happy.” he told her. “I can’t be happy. Everything sucks and I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing anymore.”

Evangeline was quiet for a long time. When she finally spoke again, she sounded cautious. “Does this have something to do with Seth and Pearl?”

Zeke scowled. “Why would it have anything to do with them?”

“Well, you and Seth-”

“Oh, what the hell, Ma?” he groaned, and covered his face with his hands. “Why does everyone on the planet think I’m in love with Seth? He’s so not my type!” She giggled, and when he glared at her, she put her hand over her mouth and looked away. “It’s not funny.” he said, and she giggled harder. “Ma.” he said warningly.

“I’m sorry.” she said, and tried to compose herself. “You’re right. It’s not funny.” she wouldn’t meet his eyes, and when he moved so she would, she burst into giggles again and covered her face.

“What the hell.” Zeke grumbled.

“Oh, honey.” she wiped her eyes, still laughing softly. “I’m sorry, I just… I expected to hear that out of the girls eventually, but…”

He half smiled. “Okay, fine. Saying that was… well, it was pretty gay of me.” Evangeline burst out laughing again, and this time Zeke joined her. When they both stopped laughing, she leaned over and kissed his forehead.

“If it’s not Seth, then what is it?”

“Not going to have another giggle fit?” he asked, and she shook her head. “Are you sure? You never know, I could start lisping and doing the catwalk.” Evangeline was obviously biting the inside of her cheeks. She shook her head, keeping silent, and Zeke waited until she looked under control again. “I don’t know what the matter is.” he told her. He certainly wasn’t going to explain about what had happened at the cabin. “I just… feel so uncomfortable with myself all of a sudden. You know, it’s like… Crane shows up, and we have so much in common, all these tiny details that I never thought I’d ever…” he trailed off, scowling. “It made me realize that I’m probably going to be alone for a very long time.”

“Why would you think that?” she asked him. “If he’s like you, then there are other people out there like you.”

“Yea, but how many?” he asked. “And how many of them are going to actually like me? No one likes me.”

“I like you.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re my mom. You have to like me.”

“Oh, that’s not true.” she said, smoothing a wrinkle out of the thigh of her pants in a fussy sort of way. “I hardly ever like Theodore.”

Zeke burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it. The whole conversation was catching up to him, the whole last couple of days, and he felt like it was either start laughing or start crying. He sat up, put his face in his hands, and just let go. He couldn’t have guessed how long he sat there, laughing hysterically, but when it was over and he was reduced to hiccups and the occasional giggle, he actually felt a little better.

Evangeline let him get it out, sitting next to him, smiling softly to herself, despite how worried she felt. When he’d stopped, she gave him a careful hug, kissed his cheek, and told him she loved him. Then she left him alone. Zeke sat there for a while, contemplating everything that had happened. Then he got up and called Crane.

When his cousin came downstairs, Zeke was sitting on his bed cross legged, flipping through an old Nintendo Power. He set the magazine aside and gestured for Crane to have a seat. Looking wary, Crane sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey.” he said unenthusiastically.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.” Zeke told him, and Crane shrugged. “No, really, I’m sorry. I was a total dick, and I shouldn’t have been.”

“What happened?” Crane asked, and Zeke looked away. “You know, I thought we were… I thought you….” he sighed.

“I’m just going through a lot of shit right now.” Zeke told him, using the same line he’d used on his mother. “I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have. It’s really just as simple as that.”

“You can talk to me, you know. About stuff like that.” Crane told him, and he nodded. “I mean, you’re my cousin, and we get along, and I want to keep it that way. Especially considering…” he trailed off again, and Zeke frowned.

“Considering what?” he asked.

Crane bit his lip. “Dad hasn’t talked to Aunt Evie about it yet, but… well, he’s going back to London to finish up his business crap there.” Zeke nodded along. “Dad wants Pearl and me to stay here while he’s gone.”

“What, like… what, stay here? In my house?” Zeke asked, and when Crane nodded, he felt his stomach drop. Oh, fuck. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Crane shrugged. “Dad wants to look for a house when he comes back. He’s already talking about enrolling Pearl in high school here, and he picked up paperwork from the college for me, so I-”

Zeke covered his face with his hands. “Oh my fucking God.” he whispered.

“I want a good relationship with you, Zeke.” Crane said, and Zeke had to bite back another bout of hysterical laughter at his awful luck. “You’re the only person I know here, and I like you. If I’m going to live here, especially if I’m going to stay in the house with you, I’d like to be able to say we’re friends.”

“We are friends.” Zeke said through his fingers, then dropped his hands and looked at his cousin. “I’m sorry, okay?”

Crane nodded, then smiled. “Okay.” For a moment they sat in silence, then crane pointed at Zeke’s T.V. “I promised the kids on the way down that I’d watch a movie with them. How about we all come down here and keep you company?”

“What did you have in mind?” Zeke asked warily.

Crane grinned. “I’m both disappointed and disgusted that you’ve never shown those kids Star Wars.”

Zeke laughed. “Fair enough.” he said, and Crane’s smile widened a little before he went back upstairs. Zeke ran his hands through his hair and sighed. What the hell was he going to do if his mother allowed her niece and nephew to stay with them? How the hell could this have happened? More importantly, how the hell was he going to survive this with his sanity in tact?

His brothers and sisters came downstairs in a herd of chattering and shouting, and behind them Crane followed, carrying a DVD case, a six pack of 7-Up cans, and balancing a bowl of popcorn on one hand. The kids laid down on their stomach, the girls in the middle and the boys bracketing them, their feet in the air, facing the T.V. Crane handed the popcorn and 7-Up to Zeke, who passed the cans out, opening them for the girls. While Crane put the DVD in and jumped to the main menu, Zeke explained that if any 7-Up or popcorn ended up spilled on his bed, he would become an only child. He agreed to let May and Kay hold the popcorn bowl, and warned the boys that if they started fighting over it, it would be just another reason for him to stop having siblings.

As the movie started, Crane turned off the overheard light, plunging the basement into sharp, blue lit shadow. Then he crawled onto the bed beside Zeke.

Six people, even if four of them are little kids, do not fit well on a queen sized bed. “Sorry.” Crane muttered after he’d elbowed Zeke for the third time. “You need a bigger bed.”

“I need less brothers and sisters.” Zeke commented, making Crane smile.

“Shh!” Kay hissed over her shoulder, and Crane bit back laughter at her seriousness. The girls seemed to be enjoying the movie way more than the boys. When it was finally over, the girls groaned and whined and protested until Zeke agreed to let them watch The Empire Strikes Back as well. The boys went back upstairs, so there was a little more breathing room. Somehow, though, to Zeke it felt like there was even less space than before.

Halfway through the movie, Kay and May were both asleep, so each took a girl and carried her upstairs. Zeke hadn’t realized how late it was; where had the day gone? It seemed ridiculous to him. When the girls were in bed and Evangeline had made them sandwiches, Crane and Seth went back downstairs to finish the movie. Crane startled Zeke by curling right back up on half of the bed, but after a brief hesitation, Zeke got in on his side and tried not to act like it was bothering him. He’d made up his mind to ignore what had happened and stop acting like such a freak as far as Crane was concerned.

When that movie was over, they talked about watching the third one, but somehow Crane talked Zeke into talking a walk. Still a little sore, Zeke followed Crane out of the house and down to the park where he usually did his reading. Being there reminded him of Seth, and he swore under his breath.

Crane glanced at him. “What’s the matter?” he asked, walking with his hands in his pockets.

“I’ve got to talk to Seth soon.” he said. “We had a fight earlier.”

“Fighting with everyone lately, huh?” Crane asked, and Zeke sighed and nodded. “So are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you?”

Zeke ran his hand through his hair again, ignoring the disgruntled noise Crane made at the gesture. “Well, I came out to my mom today.” he said, and Crane stopped walking.

“Really?”

“Yes, she took it fine.”

“So then what’s bothering you?”

“Well, that was.” Zeke shrugged. “But I’m over that, at least. I still need to talk to Seth about it, but I’m not sure how.” he waited until Crane started walking again. “Ma brought up my father today, and I…” he sighed. “I don’t like thinking about him.”

Crane nodded. “I understand, sort of. I mean, it’s different, because my mother ran off with another guy, and your father passed away, but…” he shrugged. “I don’t like thinking about her either.” he was quiet for a moment, then said, “You know, since they have different mothers, Evangeline and Harrison could get married in Sweden.”

Zeke came to an abrupt halt. “Why the hell would you say something like that?” he asked incredulously. “Are you nuts?”

Crane shrugged. “I was just making conversation.” he said. “We lived in Sweden for a year. It’s just something I learned.” he eyed Zeke carefully. “I wasn’t suggesting-”

“Good. Don’t suggest that. You’d be my stepbrother.” Like he needed that, on top of everything else.

Crane laughed. “True. That would be weird.” he gestured for Zeke to continue walking. “What else is bothering you?”

Zeke sighed. “I’m just having a shitty time lately. Everything’s bothering me.”

“Am I?”

Zeke bit his lip. “No.” he lied.

“Then what is?” Crane asked, and put a hand on Zeke’s arm to stop him. “Seriously, I can tell something’s up, even if we’ve only-”

“Don’t.” Zeke said, and shrugged Crane’s hand away. “Don’t throw that in my face like that.”

Crane looked surprised. “I wasn’t trying to-”

“I feel awful, okay? I said I was sorry.”

“I know you did. I’m not throwing it in your face.” Crane looked around for a moment, then grabbed Zeke’s wrist and pulled him off the path.

“Where-”

“Sit.” Crane instructed, pushing Zeke towards a low stone bench under one of the trees that dotted the park. Zeke did what he was told and Crane sat beside him. “Zeke, something’s really bothering you, and you won’t talk about it. So we’re going to sit here until you decide to tell me.”

“You really think that’d work?” Zeke asked, frowning. “I could just get up and walk away.”

“Well, you could try. I’d tackle you, probably hurt you worse than you’re already hurting in the process, and drag you back. Or we could do it the easy way and you could just tell me.”

Zeke sighed and ran his hands through his hair again. “Shut up.” he mumbled at Crane, who’d opened his mouth, looking annoyed. “It’s my hair, I’ll fuck with it all I want.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Crane said, and Zeke studied him for a moment before looking away. “You keep doing that. What the hell did I do?”

Zeke opened his mouth, and immediately hated himself for it. “I saw you.” he said, and then clapped his hand over the treacherous orifice. He closed his eyes and pretended he hadn’t said it. Or at least, he tried to.

“I don’t know what that means.” Crane told him. “I mean, saw me what? You were fine at the cabin, and then the next day you…” he made a weird sound in the back of his throat. “Oh.”

“Yea. Oh.” Zeke mumbled. He put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. I know that’s a really shitty reason for me to be-”

“That’s embarrassing.” Crane said simply, and then started laughing suddenly.

“Why does everyone keep doing that?” Zeke wondered aloud.

Crane patted him on the back. “That’s all this is about?” he asked, still chuckling, and Zeke lied and said yes. “Oh man, that’s hilarious.” He rocked back on the bench, holding his stomach and laughing. “You are really uptight, huh?”

“Uptight?” Zeke hissed. “I tell you I saw you and you tell I’m uptight?”

“Well, it’s not like you don’t do the same thing.” Crane pointed out.

“Not where everyone can see me!”

Crane rolled his eyes. “It was the middle of the night, Zeke. Everyone had gone to bed. I didn’t… wait, how’d you see me, anyway?”

“I came out to get my cell phone, and you were just… you were…”

“Jerking off?” Crane supplied, making Zeke cringe. “I can think of millions of things worse for you to catch me doing.”

“Like what?” Zeke asked, but when Crane opened his mouth, he backtracked. “No, no, don’t even bother!” This sent Crane into another laughing fit. “I wish everyone would stop laughing at me. I’m tired of being a joke.”

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic.” Crane told him. “You’re not a joke and I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at the situation.”

“What’s funny about this?” Zeke asked him, waving his hands around.

“Super uptight closet gay guy catches openly gay male cousin jacking off on the back deck of some random guy’s cabin, leading super uptight closet gay guy to come out to his mother and act like a total jackass around said openly gay male cousin.” Crane cackled and shook his head. “It sounds so ridiculous.”

“Great, I’m super uptight and ridiculous.” Zeke grumbled. “Thanks.”

“Come on, Zeke, don’t get all upset.” Crane reached out to touch his arm, and Zeke jerked away from him. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Oh no, getting made fun of doesn’t upset me at all.” Zeke drawled sarcastically. “It’s not like I haven’t had to put with that my entire life.”

“I’m not making fun of you.”

“You are, too!”

Crane sighed. “Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you were this upset about the whole thing.” he shook his head. “It just seems like an over reaction to me. I mean, wouldn’t it be easier to laugh it off and forget it happened?”

Oh, if only he could. Zeke said nothing for a while, and Crane just sat there and stared at him. Finally he said and nodded. “Okay, fine. We’ll forget it ever happened, you weren’t making fun of me, and I over reacted.” he knew this was the best option, knew this was what he was supposed to say, so he said it, no matter how he actually felt. Crane seemed to sense that he was lying through his teeth, but he didn’t say anything.

He stood up, gestured for Zeke to follow him, and went back to the path. They walked in silence for a while, but eventually Crane brought up the fact that he’d bought two books by Caitlin R. Kiernan, and he got Zeke to talk about his favorite author.

By the time they got home, Zeke was feeling a little better about the whole thing; less uncomfortable, if even more confused than before. Crane was going to crash in the guest bedroom again, so they said good night in the kitchen and Zeke went downstairs. He showered, undressed, and crawled into bed. He was asleep almost immediately.

He woke up in just as the sun was rising, panting and fighting with his sheets, covered in sweat, his whole body aching. His head was pounding, and the dream he’d been having kept replaying in his head; the slide of skin against sweat soaked skin, the feel of Crane’s cold, smooth hands on his hips, the heavy intake of breath just before their mouths met as Zeke settled his weight on top of Crane’s lap in the deck chair, and the maddeningly wonderful press of Crane’s cock against his ass.

He threw himself back against this pillows, flung his arm over his eyes, and spent the next hour or so cursing every God he could name for ever bringing Crane into his life.