next in line pt 4 - short story
Next In Line
By Nihilism
part 1 part 2 part 3
After returning from the meeting with the junkie, Kellen departs Leech's company in the kitchen. The younger brother retreats to his room. Pausing just inside the doorway, he visually scans the space he's inhabited for the last two and a half years in an attempt to easily deduce what is important enough to take immediately, and what can wait until later - if Leech really does keep him long enough to find a larger apartment.
He does not come to any immediate or easy decision.
Instead, Kellen shuts the door and paces to his bed, flops lazily onto it, a casual set of actions that are routine by now: a routine he'd never noticed until this moment. He's realizing now that the decision of this relocation was so hastily thrust upon him - and in fact, was not even his decision to make - that he didn't really take any time to consider the consequences, or side effects. It isn't that he's wishing he could stay. Moving in with Leech sounds like a definite step up from his current living arrangement. That doesn't mean there aren't certain facets of this life he'd like to take with him, things that can't be stuffed in a suitcase of any size, and things of which he's now uncertain.
It would figure that they'd arrive just after Jimmy had shot up, Kellen seethes, when he was the worst about flipping moods at the drop of a hat; when Leech would see the worst of him. Kellen does not want to try to explain to Leech that he wasn't always like that, that he was typically a lot of fun to be around, knowing he'd sound like he was making excuses for his friend. And maybe he was. Jimmy never made excuses for himself, but Kellen had never asked for any - he'd been too impressed with himself for earning the man's attention and friendship to take it for granted that way.
It was, in a way, a lot like the situation he found himself in the middle of now. Leech is no junkie, and the fact remains that he is Kellen's half-brother, but as Jimmy had so deftly pointed out, what did Kellen really know about him? The few times they'd talked or spent time together in the past, including these past five days, it had been natural to relax around Leech, to accept him for who he was. The shock of actually having a brother wore off before he ever met him, and it was easy to decide that he was likeable. Leech had offered some amusing anecdotes about his past, some sparse details of his life now. His personality didn't offend Kellen, like so many others' did - one reason his closest friend was a constantly sedated, self-destructive nihilist. But he wonders now, if all of that is really enough evidence on which to base this complete trust he's developed in Leech.
Twice today, Leech's behavior has shaken what Kellen had thought of him, begged questions of assumptions he'd made. Inarguably, he'd been grateful when the man had made his father back off. He didn't like getting hit - who does? - and the protective action from Leech was certainly welcome. Not that Kellen thought he needed someone to protect him, but it was even sort of…attractive, he thinks, seeing his brother be so cocksure in his concern for him. The gun was the thing that got him, though. He had been under the impression that Leech was not fond of firearms, knew that his mother had been killed by one, and that a man he spoke often and fondly of had always had one on him when Leech was younger and it scared him badly back then; Kellen definitely didn't expect the guy to carry one himself. Kellen wasn't particularly twitchy about the things himself, that wasn't the problem. It was the fact that Leech did carry a gun, even in the company of his family, and so readily used it. That was the first thing to shock the presumptions out of Kellen, to make him realize that he didn't know Leech all that well, after all.
The second, of course, was his near-altercation with Jimmy. Again, a protective gesture. The gun hadn't made an appearance this time, but again, that wasn't the problem here, either. It was how vehemently and quickly Leech had leapt to defend the idea of Kellen coming home with him, to even threaten - no matter what he said to the contrary, Kellen knew the mention of the police had been just that - Kellen's closest friend in the sake of making sure that he did come with him. And the questions Jimmy had raised, seeming ridiculous at the time, now seem a little more worth consideration.
But are either of those really problems, he wonders? Should he maybe be flattered instead by Leech's sudden show of possessiveness? Shouldn't he be glad that the guy he's going to be living with is so willing to do anything in order to protect him? Is there really any risk of Leech only being so protective and possessive because he has some nefarious ulterior motive for taking him in? These and other unanswerable questions flit through Kellen's mind, become more disjointed, until eventually - without realizing it - he's falling asleep again.
Leech had, instead of following Kellen, stayed downstairs to quiz Nick about the boy's previous insurrections; to get an idea of the incidents of 'bad behavior' he had to look forward to. They were in his opinion, nothing so bad - a little dabbling in drugs, some unsavory characters as friends, a couple times sneaking girls in through his window to spend the night - but with the way Leech had been brought up, (or perhaps more accurately the way his adolescence had been spent, since no one really raised him,) he couldn't cast the first stone on any of these supposed problems. He'd first gotten high on pot before adolescence even kicked in, at age nine, and had dealt drugs for a while; his closest friends when he was Kellen's age were alcoholics, addicts, even certain killers; and sex, though specifically not with girls, did not require any sneakiness at all. But Leech isn't a moron; he knows that he can't base his expectations for keeping Kellen on the ways his 'Daddy,' Ruckus, had kept him. Even after Nick heads out to the bar, Leech keeps to himself for a while in the den, pondering over possible ways of handling Kellen's less acceptable behavior without losing the companionship they'd started to form - or, if he's honest with himself, the close friendship he has formed with the boy so much more quickly than he's ever formed any relationship with anyone. It doesn't irk him, though; this is his little brother. He's never had one before, but he assumes it's part of the job description if one is lucky.
He startles out of his circular thoughts when he realizes that it's nearly nine at night, shaking his head to clear it and standing, stretching, then heading back to the second floor to see how Kellen's packing is coming along. Stopping in the kitchen on the way, he snags his bright pink backpack off the floor, thinking to check his cell phone for messages and call the headmaster back once he gets upstairs. He figures the boy should be nearly done by now - and soon discovers that maybe he might be, if he had ever started.
But finding Kellen stretched sideways across the bed and as deeply asleep as he was the last time Leech sought him out there, the man can't help but smirk fondly. Closing the door with more care than is necessary, so as not to wake the slumbering little punk, the older and wakeful little punk takes in a quick appraisal of the room. Nothing is out of place, leaving him certain that Kellen wasn't ready for a ride back to Massachusetts tonight. So when that bemused blue pair of eyes comes to rest on the sleeping form once more, he decides that the headmaster and demanding student can wait another day for him to arrive and find a way to fix everyone's problems.
It's funny, he thinks, that seven years ago - when he was Kellen's age - he was so helpless that he couldn't even fix his own. Now he's taking on a charity case in addition to working with the cast-offs of other people's families.
Leech settles into the desk chair and begins unlacing his boots methodically, a process that takes quite a while with this particular pair of twenty-eye Docs, but his deft fingers work flawlessly as he continues considering the unconscious Kellen. There had been no real question as to whether or not he was willing to take the boy in once the idea had formed. He had become approving enough of Kellen that taking him in seemed in a way natural, almost the only choice he had, as if Kellen were some sort of protégé. As if he was supposed to be there all along, only Leech didn't know it until he met him.
Eventually, the boots have both been unlaced enough that he can toe them off, and by then he's been staring at Kellen long enough to have decided that the boy looks very, very comfortable where he is. And Leech realizes that the day has been a particularly long one, with all the confusions and confrontations. Covering a yawn with his long-fingered left hand, he rises again, only to take a few steps to the bed in his sock-covered feet and drop onto it diagonally next to the other body there. The solid but soft mattress under him forces a sigh of comfort past his lips and for a moment he just lies there, enjoying it. However, Leech hasn't found it so simple to sleep as Kellen does in at least nine years, and he figures if he has to make himself more comfortable, he may as well do so now.
Sitting up, scooting onto the bed more fully, Leech puzzles over the problem of Kellen's positioning for a moment before recalling how deeply the boy can sleep in addition to succumbing to it so easily. Grasping those slim shoulders, he hefts Kellen's deadweight onto the bed completely and then attempts to arrange him in a more or less parallel position to the length of the bed. Kellen turns out to be fairly unwieldy in sleep, though; Leech is discovering it's taking more effort than he really wanted to exert to get him there. Thankfully, the boy's eyelids flutter then open as Leech has him grasped around the waist, tugging futilely, and Kellen startles upwards immediately. Releasing him, Leech looks askance at the panicky response, getting a similar look in return from that similar face.
"Wha'thefuckyehdoin?" Kellen murmurs, thick and groggy. His previous line of mental questions may be to blame for this accusatory statement, and his mind hasn't yet caught up with the rest of the world enough to realize that Leech's actions were completely harmless.
"Trying to move ya so I can lie down," Leech explains with amusement plain in his eyes.
"Oh…" Kellen states, blinking a few times, pushing into a sitting position as reality truly sets in. Then he feels appropriately idiotic for both the way he woke up, and the napping he was doing. "Fuck. I'm supposed to be packin', aren't I?"
"Technically…prolly should be packed," Leech clarifies, but shrugs carelessly. "Doesn' matter. 's late, been a long day, we can jus' as easily pull it together tomorrow."
Kellen can't completely bite back a yawn, and eventually gives in to it in all its nose-wrinkling, eye-crinkling glory before responding. "Good idea. Real good." The boy rubs at his eyes, further smudging the black kohl around them, but the glance he gives Leech afterwards is much more direct and clear than those previous. "…what?"
"Huh?" Leech returns stupidly, before realizing that he'd been watching Kellen with the amusement plain in more than just his eyes, but also in a crooked grin. And maybe it was more than just amusement, too. He shakes his head, regains his composure. "Nothin'."
Though he's suspicious of that response, Kellen doesn't testify against it, instead searching out his not-red, not-glaringly-bright clock face. "Damn. Feels a lot later than that. 's Dad gone?"
"'course," Leech says, finally getting comfortable in the position he'd been working towards since he crawled onto the bed, closing his eyes. "Left around eight-thirty er so."
Kellen simply gives an accepting groan for this information, then, upon realizing that he has no reason to be active if they aren't leaving tonight, drops back onto his pillows next to Leech. Since Leech's eyes are closed, it's far too easy for Kellen to fall into a trap of watching him. He studies the profile that seems so familiar already, due only partially to its similarity to his own, and eventually turns to lie on his side for a better vantage point.
"Sorry I passed out," he says after a moment. "Didn't get much sleep last night."
With eyes still closed, Leech offers a careless shrug. "'s arrite. Not like I'm in a huge hurry to go back to work or something. The kid can wait a while."
Note: This section is a bit smaller than those I've been posting, but it's the most logical way to chop it up. Please, please let me know what you think of it, and go back and read the others if you haven't already. It's a good time, I promise.
By Nihilism
part 1 part 2 part 3
After returning from the meeting with the junkie, Kellen departs Leech's company in the kitchen. The younger brother retreats to his room. Pausing just inside the doorway, he visually scans the space he's inhabited for the last two and a half years in an attempt to easily deduce what is important enough to take immediately, and what can wait until later - if Leech really does keep him long enough to find a larger apartment.
He does not come to any immediate or easy decision.
Instead, Kellen shuts the door and paces to his bed, flops lazily onto it, a casual set of actions that are routine by now: a routine he'd never noticed until this moment. He's realizing now that the decision of this relocation was so hastily thrust upon him - and in fact, was not even his decision to make - that he didn't really take any time to consider the consequences, or side effects. It isn't that he's wishing he could stay. Moving in with Leech sounds like a definite step up from his current living arrangement. That doesn't mean there aren't certain facets of this life he'd like to take with him, things that can't be stuffed in a suitcase of any size, and things of which he's now uncertain.
It would figure that they'd arrive just after Jimmy had shot up, Kellen seethes, when he was the worst about flipping moods at the drop of a hat; when Leech would see the worst of him. Kellen does not want to try to explain to Leech that he wasn't always like that, that he was typically a lot of fun to be around, knowing he'd sound like he was making excuses for his friend. And maybe he was. Jimmy never made excuses for himself, but Kellen had never asked for any - he'd been too impressed with himself for earning the man's attention and friendship to take it for granted that way.
It was, in a way, a lot like the situation he found himself in the middle of now. Leech is no junkie, and the fact remains that he is Kellen's half-brother, but as Jimmy had so deftly pointed out, what did Kellen really know about him? The few times they'd talked or spent time together in the past, including these past five days, it had been natural to relax around Leech, to accept him for who he was. The shock of actually having a brother wore off before he ever met him, and it was easy to decide that he was likeable. Leech had offered some amusing anecdotes about his past, some sparse details of his life now. His personality didn't offend Kellen, like so many others' did - one reason his closest friend was a constantly sedated, self-destructive nihilist. But he wonders now, if all of that is really enough evidence on which to base this complete trust he's developed in Leech.
Twice today, Leech's behavior has shaken what Kellen had thought of him, begged questions of assumptions he'd made. Inarguably, he'd been grateful when the man had made his father back off. He didn't like getting hit - who does? - and the protective action from Leech was certainly welcome. Not that Kellen thought he needed someone to protect him, but it was even sort of…attractive, he thinks, seeing his brother be so cocksure in his concern for him. The gun was the thing that got him, though. He had been under the impression that Leech was not fond of firearms, knew that his mother had been killed by one, and that a man he spoke often and fondly of had always had one on him when Leech was younger and it scared him badly back then; Kellen definitely didn't expect the guy to carry one himself. Kellen wasn't particularly twitchy about the things himself, that wasn't the problem. It was the fact that Leech did carry a gun, even in the company of his family, and so readily used it. That was the first thing to shock the presumptions out of Kellen, to make him realize that he didn't know Leech all that well, after all.
The second, of course, was his near-altercation with Jimmy. Again, a protective gesture. The gun hadn't made an appearance this time, but again, that wasn't the problem here, either. It was how vehemently and quickly Leech had leapt to defend the idea of Kellen coming home with him, to even threaten - no matter what he said to the contrary, Kellen knew the mention of the police had been just that - Kellen's closest friend in the sake of making sure that he did come with him. And the questions Jimmy had raised, seeming ridiculous at the time, now seem a little more worth consideration.
But are either of those really problems, he wonders? Should he maybe be flattered instead by Leech's sudden show of possessiveness? Shouldn't he be glad that the guy he's going to be living with is so willing to do anything in order to protect him? Is there really any risk of Leech only being so protective and possessive because he has some nefarious ulterior motive for taking him in? These and other unanswerable questions flit through Kellen's mind, become more disjointed, until eventually - without realizing it - he's falling asleep again.
Leech had, instead of following Kellen, stayed downstairs to quiz Nick about the boy's previous insurrections; to get an idea of the incidents of 'bad behavior' he had to look forward to. They were in his opinion, nothing so bad - a little dabbling in drugs, some unsavory characters as friends, a couple times sneaking girls in through his window to spend the night - but with the way Leech had been brought up, (or perhaps more accurately the way his adolescence had been spent, since no one really raised him,) he couldn't cast the first stone on any of these supposed problems. He'd first gotten high on pot before adolescence even kicked in, at age nine, and had dealt drugs for a while; his closest friends when he was Kellen's age were alcoholics, addicts, even certain killers; and sex, though specifically not with girls, did not require any sneakiness at all. But Leech isn't a moron; he knows that he can't base his expectations for keeping Kellen on the ways his 'Daddy,' Ruckus, had kept him. Even after Nick heads out to the bar, Leech keeps to himself for a while in the den, pondering over possible ways of handling Kellen's less acceptable behavior without losing the companionship they'd started to form - or, if he's honest with himself, the close friendship he has formed with the boy so much more quickly than he's ever formed any relationship with anyone. It doesn't irk him, though; this is his little brother. He's never had one before, but he assumes it's part of the job description if one is lucky.
He startles out of his circular thoughts when he realizes that it's nearly nine at night, shaking his head to clear it and standing, stretching, then heading back to the second floor to see how Kellen's packing is coming along. Stopping in the kitchen on the way, he snags his bright pink backpack off the floor, thinking to check his cell phone for messages and call the headmaster back once he gets upstairs. He figures the boy should be nearly done by now - and soon discovers that maybe he might be, if he had ever started.
But finding Kellen stretched sideways across the bed and as deeply asleep as he was the last time Leech sought him out there, the man can't help but smirk fondly. Closing the door with more care than is necessary, so as not to wake the slumbering little punk, the older and wakeful little punk takes in a quick appraisal of the room. Nothing is out of place, leaving him certain that Kellen wasn't ready for a ride back to Massachusetts tonight. So when that bemused blue pair of eyes comes to rest on the sleeping form once more, he decides that the headmaster and demanding student can wait another day for him to arrive and find a way to fix everyone's problems.
It's funny, he thinks, that seven years ago - when he was Kellen's age - he was so helpless that he couldn't even fix his own. Now he's taking on a charity case in addition to working with the cast-offs of other people's families.
Leech settles into the desk chair and begins unlacing his boots methodically, a process that takes quite a while with this particular pair of twenty-eye Docs, but his deft fingers work flawlessly as he continues considering the unconscious Kellen. There had been no real question as to whether or not he was willing to take the boy in once the idea had formed. He had become approving enough of Kellen that taking him in seemed in a way natural, almost the only choice he had, as if Kellen were some sort of protégé. As if he was supposed to be there all along, only Leech didn't know it until he met him.
Eventually, the boots have both been unlaced enough that he can toe them off, and by then he's been staring at Kellen long enough to have decided that the boy looks very, very comfortable where he is. And Leech realizes that the day has been a particularly long one, with all the confusions and confrontations. Covering a yawn with his long-fingered left hand, he rises again, only to take a few steps to the bed in his sock-covered feet and drop onto it diagonally next to the other body there. The solid but soft mattress under him forces a sigh of comfort past his lips and for a moment he just lies there, enjoying it. However, Leech hasn't found it so simple to sleep as Kellen does in at least nine years, and he figures if he has to make himself more comfortable, he may as well do so now.
Sitting up, scooting onto the bed more fully, Leech puzzles over the problem of Kellen's positioning for a moment before recalling how deeply the boy can sleep in addition to succumbing to it so easily. Grasping those slim shoulders, he hefts Kellen's deadweight onto the bed completely and then attempts to arrange him in a more or less parallel position to the length of the bed. Kellen turns out to be fairly unwieldy in sleep, though; Leech is discovering it's taking more effort than he really wanted to exert to get him there. Thankfully, the boy's eyelids flutter then open as Leech has him grasped around the waist, tugging futilely, and Kellen startles upwards immediately. Releasing him, Leech looks askance at the panicky response, getting a similar look in return from that similar face.
"Wha'thefuckyehdoin?" Kellen murmurs, thick and groggy. His previous line of mental questions may be to blame for this accusatory statement, and his mind hasn't yet caught up with the rest of the world enough to realize that Leech's actions were completely harmless.
"Trying to move ya so I can lie down," Leech explains with amusement plain in his eyes.
"Oh…" Kellen states, blinking a few times, pushing into a sitting position as reality truly sets in. Then he feels appropriately idiotic for both the way he woke up, and the napping he was doing. "Fuck. I'm supposed to be packin', aren't I?"
"Technically…prolly should be packed," Leech clarifies, but shrugs carelessly. "Doesn' matter. 's late, been a long day, we can jus' as easily pull it together tomorrow."
Kellen can't completely bite back a yawn, and eventually gives in to it in all its nose-wrinkling, eye-crinkling glory before responding. "Good idea. Real good." The boy rubs at his eyes, further smudging the black kohl around them, but the glance he gives Leech afterwards is much more direct and clear than those previous. "…what?"
"Huh?" Leech returns stupidly, before realizing that he'd been watching Kellen with the amusement plain in more than just his eyes, but also in a crooked grin. And maybe it was more than just amusement, too. He shakes his head, regains his composure. "Nothin'."
Though he's suspicious of that response, Kellen doesn't testify against it, instead searching out his not-red, not-glaringly-bright clock face. "Damn. Feels a lot later than that. 's Dad gone?"
"'course," Leech says, finally getting comfortable in the position he'd been working towards since he crawled onto the bed, closing his eyes. "Left around eight-thirty er so."
Kellen simply gives an accepting groan for this information, then, upon realizing that he has no reason to be active if they aren't leaving tonight, drops back onto his pillows next to Leech. Since Leech's eyes are closed, it's far too easy for Kellen to fall into a trap of watching him. He studies the profile that seems so familiar already, due only partially to its similarity to his own, and eventually turns to lie on his side for a better vantage point.
"Sorry I passed out," he says after a moment. "Didn't get much sleep last night."
With eyes still closed, Leech offers a careless shrug. "'s arrite. Not like I'm in a huge hurry to go back to work or something. The kid can wait a while."
Note: This section is a bit smaller than those I've been posting, but it's the most logical way to chop it up. Please, please let me know what you think of it, and go back and read the others if you haven't already. It's a good time, I promise.