Nikki crossed his arms in front of his chest, blinking to relieve the tearing burn in his eyes. Off to lick your wounds, are you? One escaped and he wiped at it harshly. What about mine? “Hey Taylin, the least you could --” his arms fell and he turned around, resolute to not let him get away.
He stormed down the hall, twisting the doorknob and shoving it open with his shoulder. He forewent his words in favor of a short exasperated laugh and rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up into the air. “And of course, you'd be lighting up.”
Determined to not look shamefaced, Taylin blew out a cloud of smoke, making a mental note to take a smaller hit next time. Usually doesn't tear up my throat like that. “Do you blame me?” he asked honestly.
“Well…no,” he admitted, shifting his weight to one leg, “but what about me?” He pulled a face when his brother offered him the bowl. “You know why I don't do it…it's too easy for me to become addicted. I see how it affects you --and you're disciplined --can you imagine me?” He rubbed his arm. With you, it's release, but I need an anchor. “You're all I need,” he mumbled quietly.
Taylin rubbed the glazed handle, nervously twisting the lighter between his fingers with his other hand. A strange vibration snaked up his arm, leaving a wave of fading tingles. “What do you want me to do that's not going to get you killed?”
His lip quivered and he resisted the betraying urge to bite it down. “You could tell me I'm not just a cheap fuck.”
Jesus Christ. “Isn't that obvious?” Truth was, he was used to Nikki just shaking off whatever their father said, disregarding the verbal abuse with a tempered smile. But there was his little brother standing in his room crying, proof that it had caught up to him; evident that this time, feelings had been there to hurt. And I'm sitting here like an insensitive dick. He glanced around, looking for a suitable place to prop the bowl, deciding on the alarm clock. “Come here,” he said, waving him forward. He stretched out his arms, continuously beckoning him until Nikki leaned down, pulling up a leg to nestle on his lap. For a moment he was left stupefied, mind slightly caught up in the awe-inducing novelty of embracing another human being. That's…that's wow. He cleared his throat, aware enough that he was being taken a little harder than usual and that he still had to come up with something intelligible. “You are the most precious, purest thing in this world and don't think for a second that you're any less because of what that bastard says or does, ok?”
He giggled, though a bout of dry coughing had him moving back, eyeing his brother cautiously before smacking him lightly on the back. “You need some water?” Covering his mouth with the back of his hand and nodding, Taylin reached for the pipe like it was an inhaler and Nikki arched an eyebrow. “You sure that's a good idea?”
“Shit's supposed to,” he took a hiccupping breath to hinder his next cough, “calm me down.” His eyes were already bloodshot.
Nikki shrugged helplessly. “I'll…be right back.”
In the kitchen, he thoughtfully snagged the plate of French toast and opened the fridge. Milk, eggs and beer… Setting the plate on the counter so he could hold the door open, he pulled the bottom drawer, spotting the water bottles through the clear plastic. To his dismay, they were mostly frozen. “What…” He sighed, taking one anyway. Better later than never. He prepared his short trek back, eyes widening at the sight of his father standing ominously at the foot of the stairs.
“Where's your brother?” he asked coldly.
“In-in his room --” he broke off, eyes sliding to the front door where the sudden knocking was coming from. Ivan quickly strode over and he cowered, readily following when he was led tightly by the arm. “Ow ok, I get it --"
“Shut it. You stay with Taylin and I don't want to hear a fucking peep from behind that door, do you understand? Not a sound.”
His fearful protest came out in a guttural whimper. “I can't really control Taylin --” he nearly dropped the plate, his back pressing uncomfortably against the wall, steel blue eyes a menacing demanding glower.
“Well maybe Taylin needs to learn a lesson or two.”
He shook his head decisively, jaws tight to keep his teeth from chattering. “H-he doesn't, he doesn't.” The next few knocks were decidedly more impatient and the forceful hand left his collarbone. His father turned around, opening the door for him, frowning at the sight of Taylin sitting on the floor in front of his bed.
“What's wrong with you?”
“He'll be fine,” Nikki said, hurrying passed him.
“Airing out the room might help.” The door closed firmly.
Kneeling down, putting the plate beside him, he shook the plastic bottle with a bit of hope, but there wasn't more than a mouthful of liquid. “Fuck,” he sighed.
“Nikki,” Taylin said, his voice oddly quiet. His brother looked up expectantly. “This…this isn't normal, this doesn't feel right. I-I'm too wound up --just don't freak out, or I'll freak out.”
He moved closer worriedly; his experience with weed didn't amount to much. “Um, it's not going to make you pass out, right? What if you eat something? Munchies? Uh --” he looked at the drawer, brightening, “how about your music? Don't you usually listen to it --”
“Just come talk to me, be yourself.” He held out his hand and Nikki smiled, grabbing it.
“Ok, but we have to be quiet. Dad doesn't want to hear us.”