[TW: mention of drinking, knives and possible harm. More brother angst!]
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Steve was home for the holidays. Home with Joe and Blue. It felt nice to be back, especially since his mentality went through a huge improvement since the last time he has been here. It felt refreshing.
He gave his loyal blue dog a lot of affection, pets and kisses, he's missed Blue. He missed when she's help him through tough times. He missed his dog. Now that he's here, Blue is thrilled. She couldn't stop wagging her tail. Seems like she missed him too.
Steve and Joe were sharing a bedroom at this moment of visiting. Sharing what used to be Steve's old room. When he got back, it still looked like how he left it. But now Joe's duck stuffy, Boris, was placed on the bed. Steve scoffed in amusement at the sight.
"He's a grown man, why does he still sleep with that thing? Yeah, he isn't getting a girlfriend anytime soon." Steve thought. His baby brother, was still his baby brother. He adored it, but used it to his advantage to make fun of Joe at times.
Steve sat on his bed, found a journal he left at the place. He took most his journals to his college dorm. But there was one he left here, carefully hidden. He can't have Joe reading the things he wrote. But the nostalgia hit as he flipped through the pages.
He sat on his bed and got his handy-dandy black pen. Started writing and sketching like he'd used to. Well, about 15 minutes into this, Joe stumbled in the room. Without knocking.
Steve scoffed, "I see you still don't bother to knock, what a shocker." He said sarcastically. But when he got a better look of Joey something didn't seem right. The younger brother chuckled, "shut the fuck up, dirtbag" he slurred. This isn't how Joe would normally act like at all.
Steve got up, concerned. He walked towards his brother, "what's with you?" He questioned. Joe's sly and playful behavior faded into something else. He seemed frustrated at the question. "Fuck you mean 'what's with me'? I don't understand, Stevieeee.." Joe hung his arms on Steve's shoulders. Yeah, this definitely set off alarms in Steve's mind.
Joe doesn't usually swear. And he isn't mindlessly touchy. And he usually doesn't have a scent of alcohol on him.
Yeah, it was crystal clear to Steve now. Joey's intoxicated. And pissed Steve off. Especially because of what happened last time Joe drank. He thought he'd learn his lesson, but nope. And another thing is that Joe is underaged! He's 19 dammit!
Steve shoved Joe away from him, "Joseph! What the fuck? Are you seriously drunk again? Although you know what happened last time?" A display of offense set on Joe's face once Steve pushed him away. "Steve, I'm a grown up. I think I can handle just a bit of it."
"No, Joe. Honestly, sometimes it feels like you're still a child. Just look around. With your Boris and everything-"
"HEY! Don't you dare insult Boris."
The way Joe snapped made Steve flinch. "It's not that deep?" He mumbled. Joe let out a hmph. And walked towards Boris, who was sat on his bed. He took the plushy duck and held him in his arms, hugging him.
"At least Boris doesn't tell me what to do." He mumbled, nearly inaudible. Steve rolled his eyes, his little brother is being unbelievably immature right now. Usually it wouldn't be a problem. But now it is, it's different this time.
Joe was tall, he towers over Steve. He's strong, he's grown so much. It was unbelievable to Steve how big he is. But Joe still has that baby face. Those rosey, chubby cheeks, his brown doe eyes, his pouty lips. Yeah, odd. It was a bit unsettling for Steve at times. But at least he didn't see Joe as a threat.
Well, most the time.
As Joe hugged Boris, Steve's eyes subconsciously glanced to a place he shouldn't have. That little dark corner underneath his bed. He didn't even realize he was staring at it until Joe looked where he was looking.
Oh shit.
He realized his mistake when it was too late. So to try to get Joe anywhere but that direction, he tried to get Joe's attention snapped at him. I mean, Joe's drunk right now, how hard can it be?
Much harder than Steve had expected.
"Joe! Hey Joe, just listen to me. I won't tell you how to live your life, okay? But you're too young for this right now. Hey— Joe look at me!" He rushed to his little brother and turned him around to face him. Which was another mistake, because Joe instantly pushed Steve off. It was a harsh shove, a reminder to Steve how dangerously strong his 'little' brother was.
Joe walked to the corner, stooped down to see what in the world his older brother could've been eyeing. A shiny metal caught his eye.
"No way,"
Joe reached under to grab it. He pulled out a sharp pocket knife. He smiled menacingly as he studied it. It scared the shit out of Steve.
"Why do you have this, Stevie? You never told me about it. Hmphhhh, unfair much." He giggled as he dazed at the sharp object in awe. "Joe, put that down. Seriously." Steve felt like he was giving a clueless dog demands. Whatever he said, Joe just kept doing it. Amused and curious about the thing.
"You didn't answer my question!" Joe made that childish pout. "Why? Ohh I forgot about how much of an edgelord you are. Lemme guess! Did you cut yourself with it? Perhaps kept it in your pocket to make yourself feel like a badass? God, you really are emo!" He laughed it off.
Steve's heart rate quickened. What the fuck did he just say? Joe just brought up the subject of self harm. That really struck a nerve. It did something to Steve. And he hated the way Joe treated it like a joke. He wanted to strangle his little brother out of pure rage and impulse right now.
"Joe. Put that down otherwise you'll regret it. This is a serious matter. Just... put it away." Steve demanded. But instead of listening to his older brother, Joe smiled slyly at Steve. Then finally, he set the knife down on a nightstand. Which relieved Steve, to an extent.
But Steve's anxiety began to rise, again, once Joe walked close to him. With that same sly smile. Steve had to glance up to make eye contact with Joe now. Joe could easily see the frustration written all over Steve. He simply smiled.
"Show me your wrists, Stevie."
...
"What?"
"Show me, dumbass!" Joe grabbed Steve's wrists and rolled up his sleeves against his will. Steve thrashed around, trying to be set free of his brother's grip but it was tight. Sturdy and harsh.
"Joe! What the hell are you doing?!"
"I wanna see you're emo scars, silly. I know you have them, they're somewhere on you." Joe then gasped when he saw fainted strikes along Steve's arms. Healed scars that are forever to stay on his body.
Steve felt humiliated. He isn't usually ashamed of his scars or anything. But the way Joe is playing about it right now breaks his heart. He thrashed harsher, making more of an effort to get away from his brother.
Joe was drunk on curiosity. He kept studying the scars. The way they slashed, the width and length of them. He was fascinated. "These look familiar. They are similar to the ones on your neck that are still healing."
Once Joe brought up the scars on Steve's neck from when Joe scratched him at the concert, tears formed in his eyes and he couldn't hold it in. "You mean the scars YOU imprinted on me?! From the last time you were intoxicated? What are you gonna do now? Make new scars that'll forever stain my flesh?!" Steve went into a full meltdown.
And seeing Steve like this sobered up Joe a bit. His expression softened. At least Steve wasn't afraid to show his vulnerability, well, not against his will. But he was still curious. He let go of Steve's wrists. The shorter brother rubbed his sore wrists, he didn't even realize Joe was pulling the collar of his shirt down.
Steve's heart dropped. Joe carefully studied the marks again, but this time he was also showing vulnerability. "Huh... So I did this. That's... that's..." Joe was at a loss for words. He let go of Steve's collar. His expression was blank, not sly or playfully like how it was a minute ago.
"I'm not a very good brother."
Joe mumbled. It was clear to Steve though. And this time he sounded completely sober. He was still looking up at Joe, as his expression turned into one of guilt. Steve was still a bit afraid, but he had empathy.
He actually struggled with empathy for a while. But it's like that piece of him fixed when he saw his dear little brother like this. He felt a sense of compassion.
For once, he understood and took pity on someone that felt hurt.
He embraced Joe. Which, he wasn't expecting, but he took it in anyways. Steve buried his head onto his brother's chest. "I'm sorry, again." Steve could hear the shame in Joe's voice, but he chuckled when he said again, it lightened up the mood. Steve smiled. "It's okay, I forgive you, again."
...
"And I find your scars aspiring, really. I know I kinda made it a joke. But I admire you, bro. It shows your strength. They're artistic. I still look up to you, Steve." Joe smiled warmly. Steve chuckled, "yeah but not literally. Right now I'm the one who has to look up at you."
The two laughed, Joe slightly squeezed Steve. "I'll try to lay off the alcohol. You know, I was experimenting in a dumb way." Joe said, which made Steve chuckle.
"Mhm, you're just like mom."