Chapter Text
Across the country a boy sits in the back seat of his car, arms crossed and a pout on his face. His father stands next to him holding the door to their Subaru open. It’s so hot that sweat has begun to bead at their temples. They have the same short black hair that is starting to stick to their foreheads. They've been like this for the last ten minutes. The man raises his head and takes a deep breath in and out. He turns to face his son, who has been still the whole time.
"David, please, you have to go to go class,” the man says, exasperatedly.
"No.”
"David. It's almost 100 degrees out here and probably more in the car. Please, let's just head inside. I'm sure your teacher will understand the mistake."
"No,” the boy says, he crosses his arms even tighter.
The man slumps against the car but leaps off once his skin touches the hot metal. “Ah!”
"David. Do not make me go in there and bring you out by force," he threatens.
David turns to his father, round face serious and grim. “I dare you to try,” he spits out.
His father knows that it’s a lost cause. The boy is barely to his chest but he’s strong, all those judo and karate classes making him too agile and fast reflexes. His father would also never handle him like that and he knows it.
"I'm sorry okay. I'm sorry I mixed up the karate bag when today is judo day. But please, son, come out. It’s getting late."
"No," the boy says firmly. His father is being ridiculous if he thinks he's going to into his judo class wearing his karate clothes. He'd look just as ridiculous as he feels.
The boy hunkers down in his seat further by rolling himself into a ball. He wraps his arms tightly around his shins and burrows his head into his knees.
His father is almost on the verge of tears. It's hot and he's sweating profusely. His son is upset. And he knows that if he were to try to get his son out of the car by force, he’d be the one hurting more than his son. His sciatica has been acting up lately and his doctor told him no strenuous movements.
A car horn sounds to their left. Father and son look up to see a red Honda Civic pull up next to them. A lady with tan skin and shoulder length curly hair is waiving out at them. She steps out and makes her way to the trunk of her car pulling out a red and black duffle bag. She reaches out to the two.
"Amelia called me saying you took the wrong bag and asked me to bring you the right one. David come on out and get your stuff."
The young boy practically leaps from his father’s vehicle. He runs to the lady and yanks it away from her. He moves towards the Judo studio leaving the two adults behind. He stops and turns around, practically slams into the woman and shouts a rushed “Thank you, tia!”
His father lets out a breath of relief and slumps forward catching himself on his knees. He looks up at the lady with gratitude. He shuts the door to his car
and goes to stand under the awning of the building.
"Thanks, Victoria. We owe you one,” he says reaching out to shake her hand.
Victoria takes it and gives it a quick shake. "Ronald, your wife already promised me a pot of her spaghetti. We’re all good under this hood."
"You brought the bag in exchange for spaghetti? This place is clear across from where you live,” he asks incredulously.
"Believe me, I know. You’re lucky Amelia’s spaghetti is so good. I wouldn't have done it for anything else. Chuchito himself could have commanded me to bring this bag and I still wouldn't have done it."
Ronald barks out a laugh. The stress of the last few minutes leaves his body and he’s finally able to relax.
"How is he,” Victoria asks, nodding towards David who has changed into his judogi and has joined the rest of the class in their exercises.
"He's...fine,” Ronald says. “Giving him an outlet is really helping him get his energy out, but the dreams keep coming. And he's getting stronger. It’s kinda scary."
"He is Amelia's son after all,” she chuckles out.
"You say that but she's not like him at all!”
"Cause she calmed down once she met you soyboy,” Victoria says punching his arm.
“Ow,” he exclaims, rubbing at the spot where she hit him. "I will have you know that soy is nutritious and delicious.”
She acquiesces. “Yes, it is and that's why you are good for her and for David! You're a calming presence in their lives. Like aloe vera for a burn.”
“My 11 year old son threw a tantrum because I brought the wrong uniform for his judo class,” the man deadpans.
“A burn is still a burn and he's still a kid. Kids throw tantrums. Besides, how could you think he could go into judo wearing his karate clothes. Honestly,” she scoffs.
“How have the dreams been,” she asks.
A long silence stretches out. They’re both looking at the boy who eagerly follows his teacher’s instruction. Neither turns towards the other, the situation too awkward.
“They’re not so fun anymore. I think part of why he's so angry is because of them,” Ronald says solemnly.
“That it?”
Ronald runs his hands through this hair and heaves a sigh. “He found a boy pretty.”
That causes the woman to turn towards him. Her mouth is agape and her brows furrowed in confusion. “Good to know he has 20/20 vision I guess. Who’s the kid?”
The man shakes his head. “He hasn’t said. I think it’s one of the kids in the class but none of them strike me as particularly pretty.”
“Good,” Victoria exclaims. “I’d be worried if they did.”
He looks at her in exasperation. “Really? That’s low even for you.”
She raises her hands, “I saw the opportunity and I took it. How’d you find that out anyways? He’s not one to talk to either you or Amelia. Hell, he won’t even talk to me about anyone he likes either and I’m his second favorite adult.”
Ronald looks at her. “Second?”
“I count you and Amelia as tied for first place. Which is his favorite depending on the day.”
He turns back to the class. “He came down to breakfast a couple of days ago and asked me if boys could think other boys were pretty. The look on his face, well you know how he gets when he’s deep in thought.”
“Mmhmm. As if he has x-ray vision and if he focuses enough he can look through things to find the answer.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, what did you say,” she asks.
“I told him that it’s normal for him to find boys and girls pretty.”
“So what are we thinking? Internalized hom*ophobia?” Victoria begins to rub her chin. “He knows that I'm bi. And your brother’s gay. Hell, he's the favorite child,” she exclaims.
Ronald throws his head back. “Thank you for reminding me of my parents obvious favoritism.”
She shoots him a salute. “Anytime, Ronald.”
They go back to watching David. He’s a really cute kid with round cheeks and big blue eyes that look at everything with intense curiosity. He always has to be doing something, so his parents signed him up for Judo. Then he saw the Karate Kid movies and he pleaded with them to put him in karate. It’s been a hell of a time getting him to each class, one after another. They had been doing well so far but today Ronald mixed up the bags and David didn’t notice his dad brought the red and black one rather than the blue and black one. Ronald is completely color blind and he was in a rush picking up David from school. It was a blur of gray and black if he was being honest. They’ll have to label the bags better from now on.
Victoria breaks the silence first. “Listen you're family may not see how great you are, for a soyboy, but you’re good for David. For Amelia. You’ll figure out a way through this. You’re the emotionally mature and available one of the two of you.”
“Yeah,” Ronald says. He loves his wife, but she has her own trauma that has resulted in her not being the most open of person. Even after 10 years together he still can’t tell what she’s thinking most of the time. David is a little bit easier. His face shows it all, just like Ronald’s. But getting him to talk about his feelings is another story.
Victoria slaps him on the back.
“Imma head out. Like you said I’ve got one hell of a drive home. Thank the universe for audiobooks. Spicy audiobooks,” she says wiggling her eyebrows, a smirk on her lips.
“Have a safe trip. Text us when you get home.”
“Oh, I will. The countdown is on for me to get that spaghetti,” she exclaims.
Ronald laughs, turning around to enter the dojo. He takes a seat with the other parents and watches his son trying to figure him out to no avail. It’s times like this he wishes David was more like him. His parents said they could always tell what he was feeling.
‘You wear your heart on your sleeve!’
He was called sissy, a wuss, puss* when he got into high school. People thought he was gay because he was so emotional. Jokes on them. There isn’t an iota of hom*osexuality in him. His brother took all of it.
Ronald is so lost in though that he doesn’t realize that the class is over until David is standing in front of him with a blank look on his face.
“Let’s go,” he says, not waiting to see if his father gets up to follow.
The drive home is quiet. Dinner is quiet. Although Amelia tries, but their conversations die off. Ronald is too scared to broach the subject of the pretty boy with David. He and Amelia share a look. Amelia isn’t going to be the one do this. She’s not as good with feelings as he is. She’s working on it going to therapy one every couple of weeks.
“It’s not that I don’t want to deal with it, I just don’t think I’m the best one of the two of us to talk to him. We’re too much alike. We’d just sit there quietly waiting for me to go away. I don’t know how to open up let alone help someone else open up.
“That’s your job, I’m afraid,” she says as she cups his face. She kisses his cheek for good luck and goes to clean the kitchen. She hates cleaning, bit if it means that she’s able to avoid having to deal with feelings she’d clean whatever.
Ronald pumps himself up and makes his way down the hall to David’s room. He knocks and waits for him to give him permission to enter.
“Come in,” a small voice says.
His son is in bed turned away from. “Hey, big guy. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for today. Mom and I have put keychains on the bags so that I’ll know which is which from now on. It won’t happen again. Promise.”
David just nods and burrows himself deeper into his comforter.
“There is something else I want to talk about, David. That boy you thought was pretty. That’s. That’s okay. It’s okay that boys, that you, find another boy pretty. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”
He can see David freeze under his comforter. He reaches out a hand and pats his head. “Uncle Ronny is gay. He finds a lot of boys to be pretty. Heck, he was the one that people called pretty when we were kids. And he called plenty of boys pretty. He even told some of them that he liked them and they sometimes returned his feelings. It’s fine. Okay, David? David?”
He can feel David shaking under the comforter. He reaches to pull it back and sees tears streaming down his son’s face. “Oh, honey, what’s wrong,” he asks pulling him up into a seating position. David is surprisingly pliant.
“Is it really okay, to think he’s pretty?”
“Yes, of course it is,” he smiles at him reassuringly.
“Even if he is a Bracken,” David asks shyly, a slight quiver in his voice. His eyes shift from his fathers to his hands.
Ronald’s confused. They don’t know anyone by that name. “Of course. But, David, who are you talking about? Is it a boy in class? At the dojo?”
David shakes his head vigorously. “They told me not to talk to him, but he’s so pretty. His smile is really nice and his hair is just as pretty. It looks so soft. And his laugh is really sweet. Surely someone so pretty can’t be bad. Right?”
“Uh, no. You can get to know whoever you like. Whenever you like. Don’t worry about what other people say. It’s perfectly fine,” he says, wiping his sons tears away. A smile starts to blossom on David’s face.
“Next time you can take me with you and we’ll both introduce ourselves. That way you won’t be alone. How’s that sound?”
The smile falls from his face and his eyes fill with tears again. He shakes his head vigorously.
“But he's not here. I've looked. He’s not anywhere. Not at school, the dojo, the store, the museums, or the parks.” he exclaims angrily. “What good is it if he’s not here with me!?”
Ronald looks at his son and sees a boy he’d never seen before. The boy in front of him is full of unbridled rage and sadness. It oozes off of him in waves. His small body shakes violently. So he does the only thing can do. He pulls him close into a back breaking hug and doesn’t let go.
“I just want him to smile at me, Papa.”
A cold shiver runs down Ronald’s spine. He hasn’t called him Papa in a long time. And he finds that the boy doesn’t exist except in his son’s dreams.
There will be no meeting him and saying hello. Ther will be no smile reciprocated. No laughter shared between the two. He pulls his son closer to him willing to take his pain away. He doesn’t let go, not even when David cries himself to sleep. For what more can a father do for a son who’s haunted by a pretty boy in his dreams?
