“No,” said Dominic. “Mom, just go to work. Just get out and go.” He waved his hand towards the door as he tried to collect his thoughts. None of this made sense. How could...he glanced towards Miguel.

Miguel locked eyes with him. The omega’s face had gone pale, and he looked as if he was going to be sick.

“Dominic I’m trying to tell you...” his mother continued.

“I don’t care, just leave. Now.” Dominic stared her down until she was out of the room. He shut the front door firmly behind her and turned to face Miguel once more. Words failed him, however. Were they really brothers? That wasn’t possible. They couldn’t be.

“Miguel...” Dominic began at last.

“Well, it makes sense why he’s always calling my mother a whore,” said Miguel with a dry chuckle. “She cheated on him with my dad. Except, I guess he’s not really my dad. Is he?”

“Miguel...”

“No, no, don’t. This isn’t happening. Or maybe it is. Either way I just...” Miguel hurriedly gathered up his clothes, clearly straining himself and his arms as he did. “I just...I’m going home. I’m taking a shower. I’m scrubbing off my entire damn skin...” He headed towards the front door with a hastily thrown together bag of his things.

“Miguel!” Dominic moved to stand between him and the front door. “Are you seriously freaking out about this? You find out that maybe we might possibly be related and you’re instantly disgusted with me?”

“I...what...what sort of reaction am I supposed to have here?” Miguel asked, stepped back from Dominic. “I’m attracted to you, but what does that mean? If you’re my brother, I feel like that’s just evidence that there’s something incredibly wrong with me. Just please, let me go. I don’t know what to even think right now.”

Dominic wanted to try and calm him down. They’d only heard one part of the story, and it’s not like his mother was a particularly unbiased source in the scenario. But Miguel was too worked up to listen right now.

In a way, perhaps his reaction was the normal one. Disgust, revulsion, and confusion were all understandable in this situation. But Dominic felt something else entirely. A desire to protect what was his. He and Miguel were a team and maybe something more now. His mother’s baseless claims threatened the foundation of that team.

Miguel brushed past him and headed out the door without another word. The pain in his heart was evident on his face. How else was he supposed to react in this situation though? Dominic couldn’t blame him for wanting to flee.

A few minutes later, his plan of attack set, Dominic charged out into the daylight.

* * *

“I think I’ve made it clear in the past, Dominic. You’ve treated my son like crap all these years, I don’t want anything to do with you,” said María. “Now leave, I’ve got work to do.”

They were standing in the little boutique where María worked as a salesclerk. She walked the floor, straightened the souvenirs on the shelves and tried to get tourists interested in one of the amazing sightseeing opportunities on the island then sign them up for one of the numerous passes that were on offer.

“María, this is important. I just need five minutes of your time,” Dominic insisted.

“And I need a raise,” said María, looking up at him defiantly. “We don’t always get the things we need.”

“Please, I just need to ask you some questions about when you dated my dad.”

“Oh, please,” snorted María. “Is Frederico spreading lies about his prowess again.” She turned her back on him. “I’m not answering any of your questions. I don’t care why you need to know. Now get out of here. You’re scaring away all of my customers.”

Dominic tried to protest, but María glared daggers at him. Clearly she wasn’t going to budge on this matter. Of course she didn’t want to talk to the guy that had sent her son home with numerous bloody noses over the years.

He withdrew slowly and made his way back out onto the street once more.

“Dominic!” a familiar voice drew his attention. He turned in time to see Guillermo running towards him.

“I was just about to call you,” the barman said as he reached Dominic’s side. “I need your help.”

“I’m a little busy right now, jefe. Can it wait?” The last thing he needed right now was another crisis.

“No,” Guillermo shook his head emphatically. “It’s your father. He drank himself to sleep in the bar last night. He’s been there all night. I haven’t been able to wake him up. I just stopped in at your mother’s shop, but she just told me to dump some water on him and send him home.”

Dominic ran a hand through his hair in frustration. This wasn’t just something he could ignore. His father never drank that much. Not unless something was really bothering him. Him teaming up with Miguel had caused more trouble than he’d expected.

“All right, let’s go,” Dominic said at last as he started down the street towards the bar. Hopefully Miguel’s crisis would be all right until he got this sorted out.

“Your mother’s reaction surprised me,” said Guillermo as they fell into a quick pace. “She was a lot more brusque than I’ve come to expect from her.”

“She’s had a bad morning,” said Dominic with a sigh. Though recent events had caused him to question the stability of his parents’ marriage. Their somewhat off balanced relationship had always seemed to work to him. Now he caught himself wondering if that had merely been a facade that they’d erected to keep him, and others, from suspecting the truth.

A few minutes later, Guillermo led the way into the barroom where Frederico was still passed out on the floor beneath one of the tables. The steady stream of snores were a reassuring signal that he was okay.

“I’d let him sleep it off right there, but we’re going to have to open for lunch soon and I need to get everything cleaned up,” explained Guillermo.

“Don’t worry, I understand.” Dominic knelt beside his father and lightly smacked his cheek a little. “Oye, dad. Padre. Wake up.”

“I told you, he’s out like low-tide.”

“Probably for just as long too,” mutter Dominic, rising to his feet. “Where’s the wheelbarrow?”

More than once, Dominic had had to wheel drunken locals back to their homes. It was considered common courtesy in the bars on the island to make sure that the highly inebriated made it safely back to their domiciles. Generally, fall down drunks were escorted home by friends or family. If that wasn’t an option, however, then there was only one thing left to do.

Together, Dominic and Guillermo hoisted Frederico into the wheelbarrow. The old drunk snorted in his sleep, but didn’t seem disturbed by the action.

“I’ll bring this back when I come in for my shift tonight,” promised Dominic as he hefted the handles of the wheelbarrow.

“Just make sure he’s okay,” said Guillermo, moving to open the front doors. “In all the years he’s been drinking here, I’ve never seen him quite this bad.”

“I know.” Dominic weaved the wheelbarrow between the tables, through the open doors, and out into the bustle of mid-morning. The sight of a drunk man being wheeled home was of instant interest to the tourists.

The snap of cameras followed Dominic the entire way home. His cheeks grew hot and turned pink from the embarrassment. Not for his own sake, but for his father’s. It was one thing to wheel a drunk home late at night or early in the morning. This was the morning rush. All of his father’s friends and acquaintances were either on their way to work already, or would be soon. The news would spread quickly. He would become a laughing stock for several days, weeks if he was particularly unlucky.

Likely all because of the argument they’d had last night.

“Dominic? What’s going on?” Peter was pushing through the crowd towards him.

“I take it you didn’t go to the bar last night,” said Dominic as he trudged on towards his goal. Only a few blocks to go.

“No, Fred said he was staying in with your mother. It was their anniversary.” Peter walked alongside them. “You’re telling me he drank himself to sleep?”

“Yup.” Dominic didn’t much feel like long-winded explanations. He was too busy feeling like an ass for forgetting his parents’ anniversary. Judging from the current state of his parents, he could only imagine how that ended.

“Would you exercise a little common decency!?” snapped Peter, whirling on the crowd of tourists recording the event with glee. “Or are you too wrapped up in your own amusement to realize that this man is going through a particularly difficult time in his life!? The island has plenty of other entertainment to offer you. Leave these people alone.”

He stared down the members of the crowd until, one by one, they began to drift away.

“Thank you,” said Dominic with a sigh. “I’m afraid it won’t help much but Dad’s lived down worse gossip I’m sure.”

They reached the front door of his parents’ house.

“We’re going to have to carry him inside, the wheelbarrow won’t fit through the door,” said Dominic as he fished out his father’s keys.

“I’m here to help,” Peter reassured him.

Dominic unlocked the front door, they picked up Frederico by his armpits and ankles, carried him inside, and deposited him on the sofa.

“You should roll him onto his side,” suggested Peter. “That way if he vomits he won’t choke on it.”

Dominic nodded and shifted his father, stuffing several pillows behind him so he couldn’t roll back.

“Do you have any idea what caused this? Your father loves his beer, but I’ve seen him put away six of them before he even gets tipsy. To end up like this, he had to be trying to get drunk.” Peter looked down at his friend with concern written all over his face.

Dominic sighed. “I brought Miguel here last night. We’ve been working on our recipe for the competition, and we wanted to use the grill here since I don’t have one in my apartment. You heard my dad say I had an open invitation in the past. I knew he had something against Miguel, but I didn’t think he’d let it stand in the way of the competition. Long story short, he refused to let us in. Called María a whore a few times. Told me he’d rather see me lose than work with Miguel. Then he slammed the door in our faces.”

“I’ve rarely ever seen him lose his cool like that, and it’s never been directed at me before.”

“I’m guessing there’s more to this story than either of us know.” Peter shifted slightly and looked away from Frederico. The family pictures that covered the walls, drew his attention instead.

Dominic weighed the options. He was hesitant to share a story of cheating, betrayal, and possible taboo with the man in charge of the local newspaper. However, he also knew that Peter was his father’s friend, one of his only good ones, and was probably in a better position to offer outside perspective on the situation than most other people.

“There is more,” Frederico’s groggy voice spoke so suddenly that it startled them both.

“Dad? Hey don’t sit up so fast.” Dominic went to his father’s side. “How are you feeling?”

“Head is killing me, and I’m starving.” Frederico finished sitting up and leaned back against the couch.

“What did you mean ‘there is more?’” asked Peter, approaching the sofa.

“I appreciate you two bringing me home,” said Frederico. “Dom, I’m sorry for the way I was last night. I’ll tell you guys everything, on two conditions. The first is that you can’t go telling everyone what I told you. The second is that Dom cooks us all something to eat while we talk.”

“I’ll take it to my grave,” swore Peter.

“Dom?”

“Of course, dad.”