Chew Toy (Kevin/Nick)
There’s something comforting about pressing your face into the soft fur of the pet you love most.
It was the first thing Nick did when he came home most days. He opened the door and knelt there waiting for his wonderfully-affectionate golden retriever puppy came running. When he was within reach, he wrestled him into a hug and pushed his nose into the fur right behind his collar. Elvis never smelled bad. It was impossible. He had a certain smell that all dogs have - like dirt and dog food and probably a little laundry detergent, since newly-laundered clothes are puppies’ favorite playthings.
But, Elvis was the last person Nick wanted to see today, and of course, he would happily contest anyone’s comment that he was a dog, and not a person at all, but it hardly seemed relevant, since today - Nick was honestly considering taking him to an animal shelter, or auctioning him off to some fan for charity.
And, no, it had nothing to do with the fact that he left teeth marks in the neck of one of his guitars, or the pair of socks he chewed a hole through last week, or the dirt he tracked into his brand new Cobra. All of those things could be fixed or replaced or forgotten about with the passage of time and some shopping.
What couldn’t be fixed was the fact that Nick’s heart was completely broken. Actually, that was sort of an understatement. Nick’s heart had been torn out of his chest, maybe hacky-sacked around a little, smashed with a wiffle ball bat, and given to Elvis as a chew toy.
It really had very little to do with Elvis. He was just an easy target.
Elvis was a present. For his sixteenth birthday, Kevin gave Nick that completely adorable puppy. Most people weren’t aware that he was a gift from Kevin, and not just from the family. Kevin was the only one who had even known Nick wanted a dog. Their parents were as surprised as Nick was when Kevin walked to energetic puppy into the living room where they were opening gifts. At the time, Elvis’ tongue was lolling out of his mouth, and he had that goofy, golden retriever grin on his face, his tail wagging.
He had been too adorable for their parents to say no. And, it wasn’t like they didn’t have enough space. So, four months later, here he was, probably twenty pounds heavier, because puppies grow fast, but no less loving, and no less likely to bound into the first person he could find in the morning for attention.
Nick didn’t want to give it anymore. Elvis had been special when he got him. He’d been a special gift from the one person Nick wanted to be special to. He had thought Elvis was a testament of that returned feeling, even if it was never said.
His disillusionment was swift. It happened in the course of about forty-five seconds. Kevin walked into the house, that sweet little puppy, about the size of his hand, cupped against his chest. Her name was Daisy. He said she was for her. The one blight on Nick’s perfect life. The one person keeping him from having everything he’d ever wanted.
Nick wasn’t special. He saw that so clearly now. He’d never be anything more than Kevin’s kid brother, who mentioned to him once in a passing conversation that he’d like to have a puppy, and actually had some notice taken of him.
He wasn’t special. Neither was Elvis. Elvis was supposed to represent everything Nick wanted in his life. Most of those things he’d gotten: his career, his dream that he was living, these beautiful things he’d been able to help give his family, the pride that his parents felt for him, and the fact that everything he did, he was able to do with his brothers at his side.
There was only one thing he couldn’t seem to get his hands on. That was Kevin. He couldn’t draw Kevin into his sphere to make his world perfect. And, the one miniscule grain of hope he had was dwindling to nothing, because he’d read too much into a perfect innocent present; he’d seen too much that wasn’t there, and now he felt like everything was falling apart, even though it wasn’t at all.
That present was currently sitting beside his bed, tongue drooping with abandon over his jaw, his tail sliding back and forth across the carpet in a patient sort of wag. He wanted to go for a walk. The problem was that Nick, who was still curled up in his bed, despite the fact that it was now two hours past when he usually got up, had no desire to actually do that. He didn’t even want to look at the perfect puppy that seemed not to realize how desperately Nick wanted to make him disappear.
He tried to give him an idea of it. He fished around on his nightstand for something, anything, found his metronome, and chucked it as hard as he could at Elvis. It missed, by a couple inches, but by the way the dog’s ears drooped, and he let out a short high-pitched whine, he seemed to realize what it meant. Glancing back toward the door and then toward Nick like he wasn’t sure what he should do, he eventually hauled himself to his feet and slinked his way out of the room.
Joe appeared in the doorway a moment later, frowning. “Your dog needs to go out, man.”
Nick just rolled over, groaning, pressing his face into the pillow, hoping that would be indication for his brother to just leave.
It wasn’t. Instead, he moved over to the bed, and sat down on the edge of it, shaking his shoulder gently. “Hey.” His voice was surprisingly soft, considering it was Joe, King of Loud. “You okay? You sick?”
It would have been so easy to say “Yes.” It would have successfully diverted both questions, and possibly sated whatever curiosity his brother had. But, he didn’t. He shook his head, without lifting it from where it was safely hiding what he didn’t need anyone to see in his expression.
“Okay.” He felt the bed shift as Joe leaned back on his hands. He could practically imagine him looking up and out the window. “You’re not okay. And you’re not sick. So … what’s the deal?” He could hear the next question already (“Is your sugar low?”), and was thankful when he didn’t ask it.
Carefully, because he was afraid his face might just simply smear off onto his pillow if he didn’t move very deliberately, he turned his head, looking up at his brother. “I think … I want to give Elvis away.”
Joe’s eyebrows furrowed, and he shifted, looking over at him. “Why? You love Elvis.”
“Loved,” Nick corrected, sighing, and pushing himself up. “I loved Elvis. Now … it sort of makes me sick to look at him.” He settled back against the headboard.
As if on cue, Elvis came trotting in, looking for someone to pay attention to the fact that he needed to go out. Joe smiled softly at him, ruffling his fur so that his ears flopped back and forth. “Well, get up.” He stood, turning to look down at his brother. “And while we’re taking Elvis for a walk so he won’t pee all over the kitchen floor again, we’ll talk about your sudden hatred for him.”
Nick sighed again, doing as told by throwing his covers back and slipping into the first pair of sneakers he found near his bed, sans socks. He didn’t bother changing clothes. They would just walk through their backyard. Paparazzi-free.
Elvis was already excited, bounding back and forth on his leash, which Joe was holding, something Nick had never allowed before because his attention span wasn’t long enough to trust him to continue holding it. As soon as they were out the back door, the dog was moving. The singer did his very best to keep up. “So?”
Nick just watched Elvis with a faint smile, going so far as to chuckle when he pushed his nose into the wet, dead leaves on the ground, making himself sneeze. “So … what?”
“So obviously,” Joe was watching him, “you love this dog. Why do we want to give him away?”
Nick shrugged, kicking at the grass. “I don’t think you’d understand if I tried to explain it to you.” He mumbled. “There’s just … a lot to it. I don’t think I even fully get it.”
“Then why decide now?” Joe had his moments where he sounded like the voice of reason, and as seldom as they came, they were always well-played. “I mean, if you can’t even tell me why, then you shouldn’t be doing it.”
“You say that like I don’t have a ‘why’.” Nick mimicked his tone. “I do. I just … don’t think it’ll make sense to you.”
“Maybe it’ll make sense to Kev.”
His head shot up. “What?” There was an alarming kind of anxiety in his chest at the thought of what Joe was suggesting.
Joe of course was watching him, and nodded almost thoughtfully at the panic in his brother’s face, like he’d proven a theory. He didn’t say anything about that though; instead, he shrugged. “He’s the one who got Elvis for you. Don’t you think you should talk to him about getting rid of him?”
“Getting rid of him?”
Both turned back toward the house at the sound of the new, always-familiar voice, and there Kevin was. He had obviously seen them through the kitchen window and had come out to join them, but now he looked thoroughly confused, in that way that always struck Nick as trying not to come across looking wounded. “Why do you want to get rid of him?”
Nick didn’t say anything; he just averted his eyes to his sneakers, eyeing the ankle bones that were protruding from the end of his pajama bottoms like maybe they would know how to make this moment a little less awkward.
Joe hesitated, then pursed his lips and slipped the leash into Nick’s hands, sliding out of the scene and into the house. This wasn’t something he should be present for. It was a conversation his brothers needed to have, and his presence would maybe not be so much a hindrance as an unnecessary fraction. It would be better if the two of them worked it out themselves. They’d been waiting too long to address this anyway.
Kevin’s boots crunched carefully through the frozen grass, like he was drawing up on prey that hadn’t noticed his presence yet. Elvis was still snuffling around in the dirt, happily oblivious to any tension in the air. “Nick? Do you not like Elvis?”
“I love him.” He said softly, automatically, because he’d never been very good at lying, and today he was even worse than usual. “He’s the best dog.”
“You sound like you’re trying to convince me.” Kevin tried to force some amusement into his voice, but it fell short. “If he’s so great, why do you want to get rid of him?”
Nick whirled on him so suddenly, he made himself dizzy. The action tugged harshly enough at Elvis’ leash that the dog yelped in surprise. “Because he doesn’t matter,” he was speaking louder than he meant to, and he could tell by the surprise in his brother’s face that maybe this was a weird way to say this. “He doesn’t matter. He’s not special, and that means I’m not either.”
He moved forward more suddenly than he meant to, because he couldn’t allow his brother enough time to protest. He pressed the leash into his hands. “You gave him to me, because I said I wanted a dog.” His voice was quiet, strained. “You didn’t give him to me because you wanted to make my birthday special. You just …” He sighed, hanging his head. “I’m not special to you, so why should I have a dog that’s just a reminder of that?”
The silence that fell over them was strange. He was standing close enough to his older brother that he could smell his cologne, and he wondered bitterly if he’d just come from her house. Elvis settled between their feet, looking up between them, because somehow dogs always know when they need to be still. Finally, there was movement, the vague rustle of Kevin’s jacket as he lifted his arm, cupping Nick’s chin in his hand, turned his face up.
“When did I ever say you weren’t special to me?” He asked, searching his eyes in that way he always did, because his gaze was just a little more intense than everyone else’s. He wore every emotion on his sleeve; now was no different. Nick just wasn’t with it enough to read the feeling right.
He shuddered, because standing so close like this, with his brother tilting his face up the way he was, it was so perfectly intimate, even if he was reading too much into it. “I just thought …” He swallowed, tried again, his eyes trying so desperately to avert from Kevin’s but failing. “I thought since … Danielle …” He grimaced before he could stop himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her; she just happened to have the one person he wanted.
The smile Kevin’s face broke into was so pleasant, such a surprise. Nick was sure some small vessel in his heart broke, just for the loveliness of it. “Danielle?” He scooped him into a hug, startling him more. He was only vaguely aware that he’d dropped Elvis’ leash, but he figured there were fences; they’d keep him in, even if it meant having to chase him around to get him back inside.
“Danielle is my best friend.” Kevin said softly, his mouth pressed right against Nick’s ear in a way that sent shivers down his spine. “And she’s been waiting for me to tell you that you’re more special than anyone for years.”
“Years?” Nick’s fingers clutched at his brother’s jacket, trying to keep himself steady. He ignored that his voice cracked.
“Years,” Kevin confirmed. He pressed a kiss to his cheek, drawing back just slightly, his arms still hooked around his shoulders. “And … I didn’t really think a dog would be what proved it to you.”
Nick flushed, but he was smiling despite himself, nudging closer, his fingers resting against his brother’s neck. “Well … I’m sixteen.” He switched back into ‘Mr. President’ mode so quickly, he didn’t quite register it himself. “I’m allowed to be overly-emotional and irrational sometimes.” His gaze was a little more adoring than he’d ever allowed it to be before. Kevin thought he was the most special person in the world. That was better than ‘I love you’ as far as he was concerned.
Kevin smiled back, his fingers sliding through Nick’s curls, even as they separated, enough so they could walk comfortably. They wandered around the yard, talking in low voices, enjoying each other’s company, confessing those moments when each knew he was head-over-heels for the other.
Elvis was running wild, but that was his job as a puppy. They knew it was time to go in when he laid down near the door, head on his paws, having worn himself out.
“You know,” Nick’s voice was thoughtful, his fingers curved around Kevin’s hip. “You should’ve gotten me a dog years ago.”