Chapter Text
Miles kept glancing out the window and his anxiety was making Bass anxious, too. They were waiting for Ben to show up and Miles was a basket case. Bass wanted to wrap him up in his arms, but he didn’t think it would be very appropriate with the girls and Brad there. Brad was becoming a bit of a fixture. Miles had declared he didn’t like him (only to Bass), but Bass thought it was more of a reflex than an actual feeling. Brad hardly spoke. There wasn’t much personality there to have an opinion on.
A car pulled into the driveway and Miles looked like he was going to vomit. Bass shot him a look. “Miles, it’s Ben.” Bass said soothingly. “Calm down.”
“Rachel’s with him.” Miles’s voice was strangled. Bass felt his eyes go wide.
“Who’s Rachel?” Angela asked.
“Ben’s fiancé.” Bass told her, eyes on Miles.
“Ben’s getting married?” Cynthia cheered. “Do we get to go to the wedding? Can I be a flower girl?”
“Doubt it.” Miles muttered. Cynthia ignored him and ran to the door to fling it open.
“Hi Ben!” She said brightly. “Do you remember me?”
“Well, hello!” Ben stooped down. “You can’t be Cynthia! You’re too grown up.”
Cynthia looked back at Bass with a wrinkled nose and Bass couldn’t help but laugh. He shook his head at Ben.
“Yeah, she’s too grown up for that.”
Ben shrugged. “Sorry, kid.” He told Cynthia. “I don’t really know what’s age appropriate.” He smiled at Bass and gave him a hug.
“Hi.” Cynthia said to Rachel while Bass and Ben joked around about how old and fat the other was getting. “I’m Cynthia.”
“Hello.” Rachel held out a hand. “My name’s Rachel.”
“Bass said you’re marrying Ben.”
“I am, in a while.” Rachel’s smile seemed a little frozen.
“Do you get to wear a princess dress?”
They were moving into the house and Miles couldn’t hide much longer. He was hovering between the kitchen and the living room, pacing. Angela and Brad were giggling to each other at his expense and he didn’t even care.
“Hey, Miles.” Ben smiled when he caught sight of his little brother. Miles tried to smile, and maybe it could pass as a smile to most people, but Bass cringed a little at the sight of the look on Miles’s face. It was a pained, guilt-ridden twist of his lips. Ben didn’t even notice, because Ben hardly knew Miles these days.
“Miles.” Rachel said. Miles was breathing hard.
“Rachel.” He tried to make his voice normal. Bass frowned at him a little. Miles never could play it cool.
“Angela?” Ben asked. “Wow, you look so much like your mom.”
Angela looked a little surprised, but she smiled. “Thank you.” She said shyly, looking down. That scored some points for Ben in Bass’s book. “Um, this is Brad.”
“Bass lets you have a boyfriend?” Ben asked with a raised eyebrow. “I seem to remember him freaking out about a poster of that guy from Harry Potter.”
“Oh, uh…” Angela was blushing and she and Brad weren’t look at one another. Ben winced. Obviously they hadn’t discussed that.
“I am striking out with the girls today.” He said woefully.
“What else is new?” Bass joked. Ben rolled his eyes.
“And who’s engaged…?”
Cynthia laughed. “Bass doesn’t even have a girlfriend!” She told Ben. “But Miles does.”
Bass stopped breathing. Miles looked at him desperately. Rachel’s eyes were huge in her head. And poor Ben was clueless, giving his brother an intrigued look.
“A girlfriend? You didn’t mention anything when you came to see me.”
“No, I don’t…I don’t have a girlfriend.” Miles muttered.
“Angela said you did.” Cynthia looked confused. Angela looked at Bass. She could see the horror on his face and didn’t know what to do because she didn’t know what was going on.
“Um…I could’ve been wrong.”
“You said someone bit his neck.” Cynthia said. Rachel closed her eyes. Ben was laughing.
“Cynthia.” Bass said sharply. She looked wounded.
“Cyn, let’s go, uh, let’s go jump on the trampoline.” Angela suggested hastily. “We can see if you can get a double back.”
“Okay!” Cynthia jumped up. Angela grabbed Brad’s hand and pulled him after her, shooting an apologetic look at Bass. He smiled at her so she’d know it was okay.
“So you’ve got a girl or you don’t?” Ben asked curiously. “Obviously Cynthia saw…what, a hickey?”
“Yeah, it wasn’t…” Miles rubbed the back of his neck, breathing hard and looking away.
“Was it a one-night stand?” Ben sounded a little judgmental now. “Miles, you should really stop doing that. Start settling down—”
“It wasn’t a one-night stand!” It slipped defensively out of Miles’s mouth before he could think. Ben cocked an eyebrow.
“Look, why don’t we get some drinks?” Bass interrupted desperately. He went to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, shaking it enticingly. Everyone ignored him.
“Come on, Miles, why won’t you tell me?” Ben asked, an almost aggressive undertone slipping into his voice. Suddenly Bass and Miles were twelve and Ben was fifteen and they were seeing who could hit a baseball the furthest.
“Ben.” Rachel murmured. Ben laughed mirthlessly.
“I just want to know why Miles never tells me the truth about anything. I mean, college? You didn’t want to tell me you were going to college and now you can’t even tell me if you have a girlfriend?”
“Ben, it was—” Rachel started.
“Me.” Bass cut in. Everyone turned to gape at him.
“Bass.” Miles said. “You don’t have to—”
“Hold on.” Ben started slowly, looking back and forth between Bass and Miles. “Are you saying…?” He trailed off.
“No.” Rachel said quietly. Miles stared her down for a minute.
“Yes.” He looked Ben in the eyes. “Me and Bass.”
Rachel was looking at Miles with confused eyes that he avoided meeting. She looked at Bass and he nodded, just once, hoping that she’d stay quiet. Ben and Miles already had a rocky relationship; a drunken mistake when Miles was vulnerable over Bass didn’t need to add to that. Bass stretched out a hand and put it on Miles’s shoulder. Rachel’s eyes widened as she noticed the tiny, almost imperceptible way Miles leaned into Bass’s touch.
“Wow.” Ben said. “I don’t even know what to say.” He stared at Bass’s hand on Miles’s shoulder. “How long?”
Bass and Miles looked at each other. Miles shrugged. “Uh…we don’t really know? I mean, it’s hard to pinpoint when it…happened.”
“Depends on what it is.” Bass murmured under his breath. He had a pretty good idea of when to pinpoint when they’d had sex the first time. Miles gave him a look.
“Are you happy?” Ben asked. Bass looked over at Miles, smiling, blinking slowly, and the sun coming in the window behind him made his hair shine golden. Miles smiled back and pulled Bass closer to him, entwining their fingers and leaning into him.
“Yeah.” He said simply. “Really happy.” Bass’s smile grew even wider and he couldn’t help it—he pulled Miles in for a kiss.
“What’s going on?” Angela’s voice behind them made Bass and Miles spring apart. Angela’s eyes were wide as she stared at the space between them where their lips had just met.
“Angie—”
“Did you guys just kiss?”
“Angie, listen—” Bass started to move closer and she backed up.
“Are you…are you gay?” She asked. What a loaded question. Bass didn’t even know the answer himself. Was there a sexuality choice of Miles Matheson?
“Angela, listen to me.”
“Oh my God.” She covered her mouth. “Are you the one who gave Miles that hickey?” She asked disgustedly.
“Ang, please, listen.” Miles started.
“I’m not talking to you!” She cried. “I’m talking to my brother.”
“Don’t talk to Miles like that.” Bass said automatically.
“What, you guys are like…a couple now?” Angela shrieked. “You think you’re going to be my new dads or something?”
“Angela.” Bass’s teeth were clenched.
“Get away from me.” Her voice was shaking and she was starting to cry. “I wish Mom and Dad were here.”
“I know.” Bass tried to say.
“I wish you died instead of them!” She said, turning and running out of the room. She pushed by Brad and Cynthia, who were just coming in.
“Angie?” Cynthia asked worriedly. “What’s wrong?”
Angela ran to her room and slammed the door. Bass felt like she’d punched him. He covered his mouth with a hand.
“Bass.” Miles said worriedly.
“Uh…” Brad was standing awkwardly in the doorway.
“Yeah, you should probably go.” Miles snapped sarcastically. Brad looked all too happy to comply and was gone in a flash.
“What’s going on?” Cynthia was looking back and forth between the adults’ faces. “Why was Angie crying? Why is Bass crying?” She looked at Miles solemnly. “Did someone die again?”
Bass breathed out shakily, trying to calm down. “No one died, baby girl.” He promised. “Can you stay here with Miles and Ben and Rachel? Show them, um, show them how good you are at Life.”
“Bass?” Miles put a hand on his shoulder and Bass held in a sob.
“I’m…I’m gonna take a walk.” He muttered.
“Bass, wait, let me go with you.” Miles said.
“No, Miles, just…no.” Bass turned, trying to keep his face steady as he passed Cynthia.
“Bassy?” Cynthia tugged at his hand. “Can I come?”
“Cynthia.” Rachel smiled at Cynthia. “Do you want to see a picture of my wedding dress?” Cynthia looked torn. She wanted to, but she was worried about Bass. She clung to Bass’s side, looking up at him with eyes far too solemn for an eleven-year-old.
“It’s okay.” He told Cynthia, swiping at the tears on his face and forcing himself to smile. “Go with Rachel, okay? I’ll be back in a little while.” She pursed her little lips in an expression that she’d inherited from her father and it made Bass’s heart twist at the reminder of Angela’s words. Cynthia squeezed him in a tight hug and walked over to Rachel.
Bass walked blindly, not even looking where he was going, Angela’s tear-stained face going through his mind. He still had the whiskey bottle in his hand and he laughed hysterically as he cried, taking slugs from the bottle. Everything he’d already thought about himself—she wanted it, too. He berated himself for not being more careful. Her parents were dead and he dropped another huge bomb on her? What kind of brother was he?
He found himself in the cemetery. He made his way to the headstone—a joint headstone for his parents, because after being married for almost thirty years they still held hands at dinner and in the car, because Bass couldn’t bear the thought of them being separated. He sat down on a little hill just above the headstone, doing his best to drain the bottle of whiskey.
“So.” He said conversationally to the empty air. “I ruined everything.” He laughed. “Are you guys out there somewhere? Watching or whatever?” He contemplated for a second. “Um…I hope you’re not watching everything. Sorry if you were watching last night when I sucked Miles’s dick.” After a second he added, “And sorry I just said dick, Mom.”
He took another pull from the bottle. “What am I supposed to do?” He whispered. He lay back on the grass and stared at the stars, picking out the Big Dipper. He laughed again. Bass hoped no one had seen him weave his way to the cemetery, drinking and laughing maniacally. They’d probably call the cops and that was just what he needed.
“I don’t know how to raise kids. Why would you…why did you trust me with them? They deserve so much better. Look at me. I’m crazy. I am talking to myself in a cemetery.” He bit back a sob and then thought screw it. He let go and his body shook as he cried. “Angela hates me. I’m probably screwing Cynthia up for life. Who am I supposed to ask for advice? I don’t have a dad anymore. Who’s going to take care of me, Mom? Why’d you guys leave us?” He broke off talking and just sobbed into the grass. He was a fucking psycho.
He sat up and hugged his knees once he’d cried himself out. He didn’t know how long he’d been there, but the sun was down and his hands were freezing. He wasn’t surprised when Miles pulled up. The car door squeaked as he got out.
“Been looking for you.” Miles said. “What’re you doing?”
“Oh, I’m just, uh, having a little family dinner.” Bass gestured to the headstone. “You know, getting some parenting advice from the folks.”
“Okay. Come on, Bass. Let’s go.”
“She wishes I was dead, Miles.” His voice was so broken its jagged pieces tore at Miles’s heart. He eased himself down to sit beside Bass.
“She didn’t mean it.” Miles said.
“I’m sure she did.” Bass laughed bitterly.
“Okay. Hey, come on, man.” Miles took the mostly empty bottle of whiskey from Bass. “That’s enough.”
“It should’ve been me.”
Miles inhaled sharply. “No.” He shook his head. “Don’t talk like that.”
“Oh, come on, Miles. Everyone would be better off.” Bass wiped his face on his sleeve.
“I wouldn’t.” Miles said simply. Bass looked at him and Miles put a tentative arm around him, encouraged when Bass leaned into him instead of pushing him away. “Should I move out?” Miles asked. “Would it be better?”
“No!” Bass clutched at Miles’s arm. “Don’t pull that noble suffering crap on me, Miles. The only way this is going to work is you and me, together. You know that.”
“Okay.” Miles rested his head against Bass’s. “I just thought it might make things easier for Angela.”
“Yeah, well, you leave me and I’ll chase your ass across the world.”
Miles smirked. “It would be my ass you’d be after.” They fell silent for a minute. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go home.”
“What are we going to do?” Bass asked in a small voice. Miles dropped a kiss into Bass’s hair.
“I have no idea.” He said, making Bass laugh a little. “But we’ll figure it out.”