Chapter Forty – Roadkill
His morning plans of lingering in bed with Jamie were ruined. The LiveFeed people wanted their star in the making to attend an important meeting, and Hearst had to admit that being set aside for the sake of that stupid reality show rubbed him the wrong way. Yes, he wanted Jamie to be famous and loved by the entire world, but he still wanted to keep the guy in bed with him.
He was about to prepare himself to say something to that effect while Jamie was still in the shower when his phone went off. Curious about who would call him so early in the morning, he picked it up and frowned seeing his brother's name.
"What's with you?" he asked directly. "You like sleeping in."
"Let's meet," Wencel said, just as abruptly. The eldest son never took a hit lying down. Hearst should have seen that one coming.
"I have classes."
"You can skip them. I know you've been doing that for as long as you've been in college, so I don't believe you'll be making that big a sacrifice."
"What's your deal?" Hearst asked, growing more and more irritated with his older sibling.
"I'll buy you breakfast. We need to talk."
Hearst grimaced as he stared at his phone for a moment. Wen had cut short the convo, and while he wasn't a poster boy for phone usage etiquette, that had been out of character even for him. And those ominous last words stayed with him, like a harbinger of impending doom.
"Who was that?"
Hearst perked up at the sound of Jamie's voice and quickly stashed his phone inside his hoodie. "Nice try. Are you still trying to figure out my true identity?"
"I don't recall ever giving up on that," Jamie replied, grinning widely. He looked even better after a night's sleep, fresh out of the shower. By comparison, Hearst was sure he looked like a plucked chicken.
"I have to go," he said. If Wen had some weird news in store for him, it was better to learn about it sooner rather than later. Could it be that his brother had already managed to get himself fired? It wasn't impossible, but Hearst didn't think that to be the case. Wen had promised to buy breakfast, and since he was perpetually broke, he would've have skipped the offer without a second thought if he thought money was going to be tight.
"So soon?" Jamie moved slowly toward him, with naughty intent kindling in his amazing eyes. "I remember I promised you something."
Hearst moved slowly toward the door, carefully getting himself out of the way of the apex predator stalking him. He enjoyed the game, but he liked the player even more. As much as he wanted to take the time to fool around with Jamie, he couldn't afford to right now. His brother was cooking something up, and he tended to be a horrible cook. Although Hearst didn't believe in premonitions, he had an unpleasant gut feeling about his meeting over breakfast with his brother. Or maybe he was still under the influence of what had happened last night. A stalker had observed them from the bushes while he and Jamie were getting busy. That still gave him the creeps and motivated him to consider a career change.
"Yeah, but now you're this hot shot reality TV star, and those guys are known for being unable to get it up in the morning," he teased Jamie.
The immediate response lived up to his expectations. Jamie removed the towel covering his lower body and began swinging it, while his eyes remained on Hearst, ready to gauge every reaction and detect any intent to escape.
"Are you getting ready for some good old fashioned locker room hazing?" Hearst squeaked. It was impossible to overlook how eager he sounded for being on the receiving end of that type of hazing.
"This isn't a locker room, darling," Jamie drawled in a funny voice. "But I want to spank you so hard."
Hearst didn't even protest as Jamie plastered him against the door and crushed their lips together. Kissing Jamie was everything. Being kissed by Jamie was everything with a cherry on top.
They were even moving in synch. Jamie's hands curled around Hearst's wrists, pinning them to the door. Their crotches touched, too, and even if only one of them was naked, it was enough to feel how well they fit together. They could have sex standing up, lying down, on the side, and most likely, even upside-down if they tried hard enough.
This sort of compatibility was the stuff they talked about in movies and books. Hearst doubted it happened often in real life, hence the need to try out different partners until you found the right one. In his case, he appeared to be both lucky and cursed. Once his mask eventually came off and the mystery was gone, Jamie would definitely forget about him in an instant.
"I really have to go," he whispered. No matter how hot and bothered he felt, he needed to find out what Wencel was up to. That bothered him more at the moment than the missed chance of morning sex with Jamie. There would be other opportunities before they said their last goodbyes.
"Okay. So, important meeting in the morning? Just like me. We must be soulmates," Jamie joked.
"Yeah, right. Put a lid on it. You might get burned, Jamie Vayne."
"Who says I don't like playing with fire?"
"Well said. But those guys expect you to be on time, so don't make them wait. What if they cut your pay?"
"You're so worried about me." Jamie nudged Hearst's mask with his nose, without trying to go further. "It's like we're married or something."
"You say the weirdest things in the morning. I should sleep here less often."
"Or, on the contrary, you should sleep here more often. That way, you'll get used to me and my never-ending quirks."
"It sounds great, but let's leave it for later."
"Later?" Jamie asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
"For further consideration," Hearst explained.
What would happen if he bit the bullet right now and showed Jamie his face? His courage lasted for only a moment, because Jamie moved away after giving him a small peck on the lips.
"Then get going before I get it in my head to ravish you," Jamie warned him, wagging a finger.
"Okay. Since you threaten me so nicely. Talk to you later?"
"Yep. As soon as I'm out of that boring meeting, I'll call you."
"I have classes later. So I'll call you."
"Very well, Mr. Exemplary Student. By the way, once you graduate--"
Jamie didn't have time to finish his sentence, because his phone started ringing.
Hearst wished he had the guts to stay and see where Jamie wanted to go with that. But he was a coward, after all. Saved by the bell, he chose to flee while he was still ahead.
Jamie caught him by the back of his hoodie and pulled him in for one last kiss. On the other end, some freak from LiveFeed was demanding Jamie's full attention. Small victories were still victories.
***
"Are you trying to bribe me or something?" Hearst observed the loaded table, while his stomach remembered that he actually liked food.
Wen had gone all out, ordering a lot more than the two of them could possibly eat, which had to mean one of two things: whether Wen suffered a sudden bout of generosity because he had gotten hired, or he wanted to sweeten his younger brother up for some obscure deal.
"Take a seat first," Wen said. He was smiling, and it wasn't a pleasant smile. He had to be planning something, and Hearst wasn't so sure that he would like what that was about.
Hearst picked up his orange juice and took a long swig of it.
"Long night?" Wen asked. "Or maybe your throat's too dry after sucking off Jamie Vayne."
The juice inevitably went the wrong way. And then straight into the asshole's face.
"What the fuck?" he asked, coughing and wheezing.
Wen daintily picked up a napkin and began wiping his face. "That should be my line, dear brother."
"Where the fuck did you get that idea?" Hearst looked around, but the few sleepy students at the other tables were far enough away or too caffeine-deprived to care about their little outburst.
"Unfortunately, I have it on good authority that you've been going behind my back all this time to get freaky with Jamie. He was supposed to be your mark. You don't sleep with your mark."
"Great," Hearst mumbled and fiddled with his fork. His appetite was gone. "You make it sound like we're in the serial killer business or something."
"We're killing reputations, so in a way, you're not wrong," Wencel said.
Hearst's mind was reeling. His brother knew. But how? A chill crossed down his spine. "That was you last night?"
"I could play with you like a cat with a mouse, but I'm here to set the record straight."
That was too much. Hearst leaned back in his chair. "Are you spying on me? That's weird as fuck."
"I'm spying on Jamie, whom you failed to spy on," Wencel corrected him. "That you happened to be there was the astonishing thing. And I would've thought it was some rando, but I heard your voice and then I knew. What the hell are you doing with Jamie, Hearst? After all I've told you about the guy?"
Hearst felt a wave of righteous anger rising inside him. "First of all, it's not any of your fucking business what I'm doing with Jamie." They could fight in hushed tones for hours. It was a skill passed down in their family from generation to generation. Maintaining a veneer of civility was important for the eyes of the outside world, so they were schemers and pretenders of the highest degree.
"I put you in charge of following him, and what the hell are you doing? You're fucking him," Wen accused him.
"And you're stalking us to watch us going at it? Who's the biggest weirdo?"
"No, eww, what the fuck, Hearst? I didn't watch you. But I saw enough to know what you're doing. For the record, you should know that I don't take betrayal well. You went behind my back. I have been wondering why on earth you'd be so interested in taking Jamie's side. And since when are you gay?"
It was just like Wen to twist the truth, the knife in the wound, and then one's arm to get them to do his bidding.
"I don't think you've ever been interested enough in me to learn what I am," he shot back.
"I just thought you were an incel, not that you're into guys."
"For starters, that's you, not me. And secondly, the two aren't mutually exclusive. I mean, a guy could be gay and have no luck in love."
"No luck in love," Wen repeated his words with a sneer. "Listen to you talk. By the way, that was supposed to be an insult. And you know that, because you threw it right back at me."
Hearst gripped the edge of the table with both hands. Wen was a champion at bringing the worst out of him. It was impossible to fight him because he always got the best in arguments and behaved like the rest of the world was wrong, but never him.
"Okay, so Jamie and I are fucking," he decided to attack the problem head-on. "Why do you care?"
"I care," Wen leaned over the table, "because you're in my care, and that guy's an asshole."
"No, he's not. Unlike you and the rest of the world talking shit about him, I know him. And he's freaking great. By the way, since we're playing the honesty card here, how about you tell me what the hell Jamie Vayne did to you to make you so vindictive. Don't tell me. You've got the hots for him, and he turned you down."
"I'd watch that tongue if I were you," Wen warned him. "You're too impulsive for your own good. You say whatever crosses your mind only to regret it later--"
"In this case, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to regret anything. You're an asshole, dear brother."
"Very well. I have some questions, though." Wen pushed himself back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Are you the furry?"
"If you're the great journalist you pretend to be, you should already know the answer to that." The large breakfast in front of them would have to go untouched, at least by him. It was a shame, but it was impossible for any item on that table to wash away the bitter taste at the back of his throat.
"I do know the answer. And I must say that I'm in complete shock. What are you thinking, Hearst? Why play into that guy's disgusting games, dressing up and pretending to be an animal?"
Hearst worked his jaw, while stealing glances around. Their sotto voce fight remained unnoticed by the others present. "Are you sure that's what happened? Why can't I put on a rabbit costume and prance around to get Jamie's attention?"
"Because," Wen started, "you're supposed to have some modicum of dignity. Because you're one of us."
Hearst cackled. "One of who, exactly? The Smiths? You know that name only shows how average we are. We're nothing special. We're a bunch of wannabes--"
"At least there has never been one of us who wanted to be a furry. Until now. You're really dragging the family name through the dirt, more than our father ever managed to."
At that, he needed to narrow his eyes and give his brother a well-deserved disgusted look. "He holds you in high esteem, unlike what he does with me, yet, you don't return the favor. How come?"
Wen let out a long sigh. "Do I really have to explain everything to you? Our dear dad is a fuckup. He tried to make us into big shot thinkers and, well at least with me, he didn't fail completely. And really, who tries to run a newspaper in a town with 20,000 people? That's not even his worst accomplishment. He tried to get us on a reality TV show. The entire family."
"When?"
"You were in middle school. But he didn't manage to sell his sob story as well as others did. Yeah, I suppose that our dad is as average as fuck, or even worse. I don't plan on ending up like him, though. You, on the other hand, you're taking the family tradition of fucking up to new heights. What possessed you to play a… what animal are you? Oh, it doesn't matter. After all, I suppose you're nothing but roadkill."
"Fuck you," Hearst said through gritted teeth.
This time, a few heads turned in their direction.
Wen grinned and grabbed his latte. "If that is how you feel about me, you're going to make my job difficult."
"And what job is that?" Hearst asked.
"To protect you, of course. You see," Wen added, leaning again over the table, "I presented LiveFeed with some very interesting information about Jamie, and now they're eating out of the palm of my hand."
Hearst felt like he was going to be sick. "Is this," he gestured at the table, "paid for with the dirty money they gave you?"
"Come on, lil' bro, there's no such thing as dirty money. And where are you getting your vocabulary from these days? Last century?"
"So, what's your plan?" Hearst asked, ignoring Wen's jabs. "To tell LiveFeed Jamie is fucking a furry? So what? That's not something Jamie's going to be ashamed of."
"Oh, no, I feel like I've caused a little bit of a misunderstanding," Wen said apologetically, without a trace of anything to indicate that the apology was heartfelt. "That's not what I have on Jamie. No, dear brother, unlike you, I am a journalist. And a true journalist keeps digging until they find gold. You tell me that Jamie is not ashamed of fucking furries. Well, it goes without saying that a pervert like him would never feel remorse over enacting some weird fantasy. But there are other things he's ashamed of."
"What things?"
Wen showed all his teeth. "Wouldn't you like to know? I'm going to drop just one hint. Has he ever talked to you about his family?"
"No, but it's not like I've talked to him about mine. We all have shameful secrets."
Wen sighed, smirking with his entire face. "His are worse. Way, way worse. Are you still going to insist that he's a good guy? Not after my big reveal. Well, not mine-mine. At LiveFeed, we're working as a team."
"A team, huh? Not a big happy family?"
His mind was running on several different tracks now. What could there be about Jamie's family that could put him in such a bad light? What did his brother know? If Wen had found out about Jamie's family, he, Hearst, could do that as well. In the meantime, how could he warn Jamie without giving himself away?
***
"So, this is really important, Jamie. You'll have to travel a bit, but it's all worth it for fame, right?" Angus opened his arms wide.
He had traveled all his life from one place to another. But these guys wanted him to leave on a tour for three months, and by then Cottontail would graduate and they still hadn't discussed anything even remotely close to their future plans.
"You can always tell us if you don't want to do it," Angus said, sensing his hesitation. "But it's a great opportunity, Jamie. If you choose to miss this, it's going to be on you. Fame is fleeting. What do you say? Are you going to refuse us and go back to being the same anonymous drummer, another face in the crowd?"
"No, no, I'll do it," Jamie said.
He'd find a way to stay in touch with his bunny boy. And Angus was right about fame being fleeting. Who said he couldn't have both?
TBC