four months into getting to know each other, shouto finds him by touya-nii's shrine. his little brother gently sits down beside him and offers a small prayer.
"yumi-nee-san," natsuo wonders if his little brother will ever drop the second honorific, "said you were the closest to him," shouto says quietly.
after all these years and the use of past tense still makes his heart break. 'you are the closest to him' he wants to correct but that wouldn't make sense anymore. touya-nii hasn't been talked about in the present tense since before middle school. does shouto even remember a time before nii-san's dea-, disappearance?
"yeah, i was," he says, eyes never leaving the photo. it's the one nii-san took for sixth-grade picture day. kaa-san had got him all dressed up and he had hated it. somedays he thinks if he looks close enough, he'll see the displeased pout on nii-san face. "why?"
his little brother says nothing for a long time, back ramrod straight. natsuo has no idea what's going on in that head of his. shouto has so few tells that he's practically a blank slate. natsuo hates his father.
then slowly and so quietly, he has to strain his ears to catch it, shouto stammers out, "do-, do you think he would have liked me?"
natsuo's immediate reaction is to say 'yes'. yes, of course, touya-nii would've loved you. yes, of course, touya-nii would've crossed the heavens for you. yes, of course, he would've loved you shouto; you're his precious younger brother.
but he remembers the way nii-san used to spit out shouto's name when he was a kid. the way his brother's mouth wrapped around it, the face he made, like he had just eaten something disgusting. he remembers the way touya-nii had become almost crazed by the end, hellbent on proving himself the rightful heir to their shitty father's legacy. he remembers the way touya-nii had said, "i just need to prove that i'm better than him,"; the 'him' said with such bitterness and contempt.
he knows instantly that touya-nii would not have liked shouto. that this house and his father would have twisted any ounce of love, nii-san would've held towards shouto, into jealousy and hatred.
(this house may have ruined all of them but it only ever broke two of them.)
natsuo can't say any of that to shouto. his kind little brother who forgave him for not being there. his amazing little brother who falls in love with every cat he sees. his wonderful little brother who has a wickedly dry sense of humor. his soft baby brother who loves him and yumi-nee with a passion. his tender-hearted baby brother who still worries if his long-gone older brother would've liked him.
no, natsuo can't tell shouto that nii-san wouldn't have like him. shouto will internalize it like he does with everything else that hurts him. and there is already so much that hurts shouto, he will not add to that list. his baby brother smiles these days, nothing big like his green-haired friend, but quiet, lovely, ones all the same. shouto talks more these days. they have dinner together when natsuo is home. his baby brother laughs now. it's a miracle like nothing else in this world.
shouto is the best thing to come out of their house and natsuo will die before he ever hurts his little brother. so instead, he curls an arm around shouto's shoulders and pulls him into a loose side-hug.
"of course!" he lies cheerfully, ignoring the ache in his chest, "touya-nii would've loved you. you're his — and our —precious little brother after all. there is no universe in which he wouldn't have loved you."
the tips of his baby brother's ears go red and his pleased little answering smile makes the ache of lie go away. natsuo will tell a thousand more lies if it means shouto never stops smiling like that.
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it's a yearly tradition, something that happens once a year for the both of them. fresh dinner put onto the table, fresh meat done to perfection, sweet and warm cookies for their dessert. a yearly tradition where luda & johnny celebrated their birthdays together -- beside tommy, who helped them both with the small set up. it isn't much, but there is also a little gift box sat in luda's spot, waiting for her to open. a recent victim had a wad of cash for johnny to pick at -- & upon roaming the town, there was a small necklace that reminded him of her. silver, with a small heart locket, that he's already put two photos of family inside of (making sure to leave nancy out of it, knowing how much the two bickered & argued ). it isn't much by any means, but it was a little something. he waits for the woman to return to the table, glancing between her & the gift. ❛ happy birthday, aunt luda, ❜ his drawl is sweet, he's smiling wide, boyish, like the little boy he once was, always so excited to celebrate with her. he points to the small gift box. ❛ ain't much, but i got y' somethin' ... i hope y' like it. saw it & thought of ya, aunt luda. ❜
| @johnnysslaughter
the hewitt home, on most days of the year, lay silent, with most of its rooms without occupants, its yards and gardens empty save for the lush green leaves of vegetables growing in spite of the texas heat.
its living room barren, save for the creak of floorboard by the idle rocking of a chair, sat upon in the late afternoon hours leading into nightfall. or the sound of radio or old television playing muffled and quiet in the room next door, accompanied by the mutters of one other soul in the home.
save for one in particular every year.
where sure enough early in the day, there's a knock on the side kitchen door, and johnny steps in, lugging in armful of preparations for the day, sweet child-like grin across his face as he greets her and sets down what he's brought to bring her into a hug.
( she, of course, had to brush off flour from his shirt - making cookie dough is rarely a clean feat to accomplish. )
with his arrival - as he has done every year since he was young, once they discovered their birthdays' were so close together - the hewitt home livened up considerably. thomas emerged from the basement door upon hearing johnny's voice carry throughout the home, to lend a hand where needed, to greet his cousin, and to sneak bits of cookie dough, as he always has, when his mama wasn't looking.
( it was always nice, seeing the two of them mess around. luda was fond of the fact that thomas had warmed so easily to the sawyer boys and to sissy when they all were younger, and that it stayed strong even after all these years had gone by. )
the hours ticked on, getting dinner prepped, cooked and finished, getting table set nicely ( the boys' had sent her out of the kitchen for a moment to do so; to make it look real nice for when she returned ) before thomas stepped out to fetch her again.
and as she came round the table, to her usual seat, luda looks down at johnny and returns the smile, and can't help but to give his cheek a gentle grandmotherly pinch and pat of his shoulder, "why thank you very much, sweet boy, and a happy early birthday to you, too." she smiles more at him before easing down into her seat, scooting in as he motions to the little box laid out in front of her.
she gives him a look over the top of her spectacles, "oh, sweet boy, you didn't have to go on 'n buy somethin', not with how hard you gotta work." his arm gets a light tap of her palm, playful disapproval on her face, but as she brings the little box in her hands, she tells him a thank you, and opens it carefully, to not drop it or whatever may be inside.
and her features soften upon seeing the little heart-shaped locket inside, and she cautiously takes it out of the box, smile growing more across her face.
"i don't believe i ever told a soul..." she looks to him briefly as she opens it, and sees the photos tucked neatly on either side of the locket - of the family ( at least, nearly all of them ) secure inside its silver frames.
"my mother, jeanine - she had one of these, here. a locket. beautiful, but gold i believe. always did tell me she was goin' to pass it to me, lost it sometime. and after charlie was born," another glance at him, noting the immediate scowl that crosses his face at the mention; she smiles and chuckles at him, reassuring him with another tap to his arm that she won't bring him up again, "how many times i had asked charlton for one. never did..."
as she talks, she holds the necklace in hand, gently passing fingertips along the soft silver heart, unclasping the chain and immediately, she puts it on around neck - as if saying, it's about time. fixing it to make sure it sits just right.
luda stands herself back up out of her seat a bit, to lean over and rest a kiss to johnny's temple, and to give him a warm hug, "i adore it, johnny, thank you," and as she pulls away again, she stops to gently cup his cheeks, "you are too smart for your own darn good, sweet boy, knowin' all too well what i may fancy. somethin' many years late, but, i will treasure it dearly. thank you."
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ok i have a genuine question for everyone
is it just me or not 😭 i always feel more comfortable abt tickling with boys & i enjoy tickling boys more??? idk
it might be because of the little bit of bad association i have with tickling/being tickled by women cos of.stuff
I dont know WHY but i just find it way cuter plus alot less uncomfortable like kdkdkdjd
with girls im like yeah that’s normal human stuff but with boys im like THEYRE TICKLISH *metaphorically combusts*
its just way more skrbly
(just clarifying im a lesbian)
(so that isnt why)
(if you were thinking) (which is slightly weird) (is it?) (someone tell me)
MAYBE its the fact theyre supposed to be tough I DONT KNOW help me out does anyone?? understand??
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