Three weeks flew by, and Brody was finishing up his second job for someone in town. They’d hired him to paint a few rooms and change out the vanity and fixtures in their two bathrooms. There was no rerouting of the plumbing, so all-in-all the job was easy for him to do on his own, without having to get a plumber involved.
Nate, thankfully, kept his word—after the awkward way he’d left the diner—and began working with Brody. He was working on another residential job that only needed one of them. The next job Brody had lined up was a deck in someone’s backyard and that would take both of them. Things were working out pretty well with the guy, even though Brody still didn’t quite know how to read him, but he figured that would come with time.
Having all of that on his mind as he walked in his mom’s house, he didn’t notice his aunt standing in the living room until she said his name. From the distress he saw on her face, she didn’t have good news for him.
“What’s wrong, Aunt Nora?” Brody asked, his voice trembling. A feeling of dread took his breath away.
“Come and sit down for a minute?” she asked.
He needed to before his legs gave out on him. Brody sat in a chair across from her, his knee bouncing nervously as soon as his ass hit the cushion. It felt like the longest few seconds of his life, waiting for her to tell him what he already knew.
Aunt Nora seemed to let him get his bearings for a moment, and finally, she said, “Nancy, your mother’s nurse was here.” His aunt’s lips quivered and her eyes filled with tears. “She’s taken a turn for the worse, Brody. I know we’ve been preparing her...and ourselves...for this to happen, but deep down I never thought the time would actually come.”
Brody swallowed the lump in his throat, and on shaky legs, he moved to sit next to her on the couch. He took her small, trembling hands between his. “I know. Even watching her get weaker over the last few weeks, in the back of my mind, I thought if I just had faith it would be enough.”
Memories he’d blocked out to save himself the pain, memories of the way things really were with his mom, came flooding back. Warm towels fresh out of the dryer when he took baths as a small child. The way she saved him the corner pieces when she made brownies, because she knew they were his favorite. Or the way she playfully scolded him about his messy bedroom. She never yelled at him—no, not her. How had he not remembered all those things and reached out to her sooner?
Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his thighs and hung his head.
“Brody, I know it doesn’t make it any easier, but she’s not living like this. It’s time for her to be released from all this pain.” When he met her eyes, he saw deep sadness, but he also saw exhaustion. His mother’s illness, especially the last few weeks, had taken a toll on his aunt.
“Neither one of us would’ve even gotten this far without you. You know that, right? I know you’ve put your heart and soul, your love, into taking care of her.”
Tears freely fell from his aunt’s eyes—eyes that were so much like his mom’s—and she sobbed, “She’s my sister.” Brody wrapped her in a tight embrace and held her as she let go. Through all of this heartache, there was one saving grace, besides Owen, of course. He finally had a relationship with his aunt. The only biological family he cared about…a connection to his mom…that he would have after his mom was gone.
He pulled back from his aunt and hung his head. “I don’t know how I’m going to go in there right now,” he admitted in a soft voice. Brody scrubbed his hands over his face, releasing a long exhale, wishing Owen were with him.
Aunt Nora wiped the tears from her face and straightened her back. “The same way you have every day since the day you got here.” Grabbing a tissue from the side table, she said, “Sit with her. Let her know she’s not alone and that you love her.”
His breath caught as he said, “I can do that.”
“Yes, you can.”
Brody wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and stood up. He took another deep breath, and then walked back to his mother’s room. Her bed was not in the upright position that it had been in the past few weeks, but instead was only raised slightly. She was looking out the window, but there was no light in her eyes, no smile to be found. He didn’t think her skin could be paler than it had been yesterday, but he was wrong. She looked so very pale, and even though he didn’t think she could look any weaker, he was wrong about that too. Now’s not the time to be a fucking coward, Brody.
Manning up, he walked over and sat in the chair beside her bed. He took her hand and her gaze slowly moved in his direction. “Hi, Mom.”
She motioned to the mask that had been a constant need in the last couple of weeks and Brody removed it. “Hi,” she paused, taking a few breaths, “honey.” Her voice was barely a whisper, her lips dry and cracked. The only sound in the room was the gentle flow of air released from her oxygen tank.
“Have the birds been active today?” He glanced out the window, wincing when he saw there wasn’t a single bird on the bird bath. He really didn’t appreciate the irony.
She looked like she was trying to smile, and he waited patiently as she got her words out. All she managed to say was, “earlier,” then she tried to take a deep breath. He put the mask back over her mouth.
“Ah, well, it’s lunchtime. I’m sure they’ll be back.” It’s lunchtime? Fuck, he didn’t know what to talk about with her. Everything seemed so trivial compared to what she was going through. But he’d stay and he’d talk, as long as she wanted him to.
He told her about the job building the deck and Nate taking on smaller jobs. Owen, of course, was one of his favorite subjects to talk about, so he told her that he wanted to do some more remodeling to their house―or rather, Owen’s house. Brody had all but given up his lease for the apartment above Max’s and felt like he lived with Owen. He spent every night with him, and he’d never been happier. The love he felt for Ryan, all those years ago, was on a much smaller level than the love he now had for Owen. At the time, he didn’t think he could love someone more than Ryan, but Owen was everything he had no idea he always needed. Owen had become more to him than he ever thought someone could. Owen was―it was at that moment that he realized he’d stopped talking and his mother was staring at him. Could she read his mind?
He lifted her mask off when she spoke again. “He’s your...light...in this...darkness,” she whispered and Brody gasped at the words she said. Apparently, she could read his mind. “It,” she breathed in, “won’t be,” another pause, “long now.”
“No, Mom, don’t say that.” Brody choked out the words, feeling so helpless.
As a tear slid down her cheek, he felt one roll down his own simultaneously. She slightly nodded her head and quietly said, “It’s time.” His mom paused again, closing her eyes for a minute, and he could see how tired she was. Opening her eyes again, she whispered, “Proud…of you. Always remember,” she stopped to take a few breaths, “how much...I love you.”
Seeing her struggle, he quickly placed the mask back in place. “I love you too, Mom.” Leaning his head down, he felt his mother’s light touch on his hair as he cried. He didn’t know how he was going to get through this. He’d just gotten her back and now he was losing her. Knowing he had to pull himself together for her sake, he lifted his head and wiped the tears from his eyes. His mother lay with her eyes closed, and for a second, he was close to panicking, but then he saw the shallow rise and fall of her chest. He breathed a sigh of relief and stood, leaving her to rest. Brody didn’t know how he was going to make it through the rest of the day, but the best thing for him to do now was to get back to work. He needed a distraction, and hopefully, he could focus enough not to make a mistake.
~ɤ~
Owen walked in the door and called out for Brody. He was surprised to see his truck in the driveway this early, but he did mention that the job on Locust was almost done. Maybe he’d finished early?
When he got no answer, he tried calling Brody’s name again as he walked up the stairs. Brody still hadn’t answered, but when Owen turned into the bedroom, he finally found him in bed. Oh, God, did his mother...?
“Brody?” Owen asked quietly as he made his way over to the bed.
Brody picked his head up, looking at Owen with such devastation in his red-rimmed eyes.
“Is―is it your mom?”
Brody tugged on Owen’s hand, with no strength to back it up, but Owen went down easily, lying next to him, face to face. “Not yet, but soon.”
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Owen placed a hand on Brody’s cheek then pulled him closer to rest Brody’s head on his chest. “What can I do?” Owen wrapped both arms tightly around him.
Brody brought his arm across Owen and held on. Tremors shook Brody’s body, and it was at that moment that Owen realized Brody was crying again. “Stay with me?” Brody’s voice was barely a whisper. “Stay right here with me. I just need to feel you.”
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” Owen replied.
They lay like that for a couple of hours. Brody had fallen asleep for some of that time and, like Owen had promised, he stayed with him. Picking up his cell phone he saw it was almost six and hoped Brody would at least eat something. He had a feeling he hadn’t eaten all day.
“Brody?” Owen whispered, just in case he’d drifted off to sleep again.
“Yeah?” Brody sounded so raw. So…broken.
“You need to eat something. How about I make you a sandwich?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Owen put his finger under Brody’s chin and raised his face to look at him. “Please, you have to have something.”
The agony in Brody’s expression was overwhelming and Owen remembered all too well the pain he felt when he’d lost his dad. And yet, he had no idea what to do for Brody.
“All I need is you.”
“You’ve got me.”
“I need a distraction, because if I think about it anymore today, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.” Brody had a firm grip on Owen’s shirt, practically pleading with him to take the pain away.
“Brody…” Owen shook his head. “I don’t think…”
“Don’t think. No more thinking. I can’t think about it anymore.” The vulnerability and need in Brody’s eyes were Owen’s undoing. He was counting on Owen to take care of him. So that’s exactly what Owen would do.
He could give this to him. Make Brody feel something other than the torment shown in his sad eyes. Owen kissed Brody softly at first, letting the slow touch of his lips help to relieve the tension stiffening Brody’s body. The hand gripping Owen’s shirt loosened as Brody gave in to the kiss and melted against him. They held each other as the urgency grew between them.
Sitting them both up, Owen grabbed the hem of Brody’s shirt and pulled it over his head before he removed his own. Taking Brody’s face in his hands, he kissed him tenderly and lay back down, pulling Brody on top of him. Glancing up, he searched for any signs that this wasn’t what Brody needed, but as Brody started to unbutton his own pants, Owen gained the confidence he needed to take care of his man in the way Brody needed him to.
Owen took over, getting up so he could pull Brody’s pants and boxers down and off his legs, removing his socks too. Then Owen removed the rest of his own clothes, and lay back down, pressing his body onto Brody’s as he settled between Brody’s thighs. Pushing Brody’s hair back, Owen leaned down and kissed him, pouring everything he felt for him into that kiss. Slowly, Owen moved his hips forward and back, sliding their cocks together. He trailed his mouth to Brody’s neck, nuzzling and kissing him there. Brody whimpered and Owen drew his head back, expecting to see tears. Instead, there was nothing but raw need coming from his man.
They lay like that for a bit, touching, feeling, kissing…their cocks thickening with every caress. When he knew Brody was ready, he reached over and took a condom off the nightstand. He opened the foil packet and reached to put it on Brody when Brody stopped him. Owen looked back up and waited, not sure what Brody wanted his next move to be.
“We can stop whenever you want.”
Brody took the condom out of his hand and instead rolled it onto Owen. “What I want is to feel you inside me this time.” Brody’s voice caught then he said, “I feel so fucking empty right now. So damn hollow. Jesus, I really need you, Owen. Please.”
“Shhh, it’s okay. I got you,” Owen whispered. He’d thought Brody needed to work out his grief and anger, to control something because he couldn’t control what was happening right now. But Brody needed something else entirely. He needed to feel complete. He needed someone to take care of him. Owen could do that―wanted to do that for him.
When he heard Brody whisper please one more time, Owen reached between their warm bodies and lined himself up. Brody wrapped his legs and arms around Owen tightly, holding on as Owen pushed into him. Owen thrust his hips gently, rocking into Brody, kissing his neck, his face, his mouth. God, he hoped Brody could feel how much he loved him, because he was afraid to say it right now. He didn’t want him to think that they were words being said just to console him. So, he showed him instead, by making love to him. Passionately, carefully, he moved within him, gradually picking up speed, but still taking his time. Brody was moaning below him, gripping his sides hard enough to leave marks.
After weeks of being intimate, Owen knew when Brody was close. He let go of Owen with his right hand and began to stroke himself. Owen could feel his own release building, but wanted to bring Brody over the edge first, needing to give him this. Drawing his hips back, he thrust back in hard and fast and Brody cried out. Owen hooked his arms through Brody’s, coming up behind his shoulders, grabbing onto them for support.
Holding on, Owen moved his hips in hard, rapid thrusts, massaging Brody’s gland. Brody continued to stroke himself and slid his other hand up from Owen’s side, to grip the back of his neck. Their rhythm was urgent, their connection more intense, stronger than just joined in body, but infused in each other, mind and soul.
Owen felt Brody shudder beneath him, his release hot against Owen’s skin, and finally, he let himself let go. They held each other, still joined, trembling.
“I can’t do this alone,” Brody whispered, his desperate grip on Owen tightening. “I need you so much.”
“I need you just as much.” Owen kissed him again then put his head down on Brody’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. It sounded like a normal, beating heart. You’d never know how much heartbreak it had experienced for so many years. This man that Owen held in his arms, his man, was so strong. Stronger than he knew.
Owen let his body slide off to Brody’s side, removing the condom and tossing it in the trash can alongside the bed. He didn’t care about cleaning them up, because he wasn’t letting go of Brody for any reason.
He knew he never would.