Something Else Entirely

5 - No amount of sexual pleasure seems to be helping me right now.

"I said no talking to fucking strangers, Jet. What the hell were you thinking?"

No amount of sexual pleasure seems to be helping me right now.

"I was thinking it would be rude to pass a bloke's footy back to him and ignore him when he says thanks," I said, which wasn't untrue, but was probably laden with more sarcasm than I knew to be safe in this scenario. "What was I supposed to do, Dad? Just walk on by his ball and pretend I didn't see a kid my own age from back home messing around with a footy?"

"Jet, we only just got here. You don't know your way around. You don't know the people here. You don't know how to call for help if you needed it. You don't know what could have happened." My use of the magic 'D' word has made him ease off a little. Not much, but a little.

"He's just a kid, like me. If you had just ignored me in the way you wanted me to do him, we wouldn't be here together now, would we?"

"Completely and totally beside the point, wiseass. That was an entirely different scenario and you know it." His nostrils were flaring in that way they do when he is trying to breathe his way out of his anger.

"I do, but I actually looked like a feral kid who would have dropped anyone for a dollar. This guy looked clean, well-cared for and decent. You're the one who is always encouraging me to be friendly and kind to people. You can't be mad at me for just being the man you're raising me to be."

"Quit while you're ahead, Jetty. I'll be as mad as I want to be, and right now, that's a lot. We asked you not to talk to anyone, regardless of the circumstances. What would have happened if he were a psycho? They exist, you know?"

"Dad, he was an Aussie! He's harmless," I protested.

"You didn't know that at the time, Jet!" Dad sighed deeply. "For fuck's sake. You're going to be the death of me, I swear."

"It's probably more likely that I will be the one to stress you into an early grave," said Madden, trying his best to alleviate the tension between my dad and me. "We all know Jet's got it together. I'm the wildcard here."

I snorted in response to my gorgeous and witty little brother, and while Dad tried really hard not to, he failed at keeping a straight face and broke into a small laugh as he ruffled Madden's hair. "One handful is enough for me, buddy. You were supposed to be the one to watch Jet and not do the things he does."

"If I end up a man like Jet, then I think I'm doing a pretty good job in life, if you ask me," Madden said, his smile shining up at me. "And really, Dad, he's a mini version of you, so you only really have yourself to blame."

Radio silence.

Madden had never called my dad 'Dad' before, and the closest he's come to it in the past was last night during his wedding speech when he insinuated that he considered him to be his father, not just his mother's new husband.

Dad cried then, just as he has started crying now, picking Madden up off the floor with his muscular arms with Madden's legs wrapping around his waist, and kissed the boy on the side of his amazing little head.

"Don't think I don't know you did this to get your brother off the hook, Madd," Dad said between his sobs, his head resting against Madden's, who he refused to put down. "But I am really stoked to hear you call me that, son."

I looked at my brother, grinning at me over Dad's shoulder and giving me the double thumbs up. Even though he wants to play this off as just a ploy to get me out of trouble, I know how much it means to him—to them both—to share this moment as father and son. The tears in his eyes matching my dad's—our dad's—tells me he's pretty stoked, too.