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For Nexus prompt 1. Coming up for air. and 101 Ways to Say I love You 30 "Marry me."
Sunset was always Rekker's favorite time of the day. Robert knew this as he pulled into the beach parking lot next to the iconic silver firebird. All of L.A.knew who was around when they saw it parked. Robert pulled off his shoes and walked across the warm sand toward the sihillouette sitting on the beach. Rekker was right. This sunset was beautiful, more beautiful than most, or maybe that was merely the Brit's gladness to get some time with his little brother. Long ago he lost track of how many times he had worried that he'd walk away from a visit never to see him alive again.
Things were turning though. Robert kicked sand onto the board on purpose. Annoying his little brother was still high on his list of joys despite nearing fifty.
“Hey!” Rekker scowled as he brushed off the sand. “You'll scratch it.”
Robert smiled at the grouchiness. With Rekker, that surly disposition was a sign of life. “I thought you wanted to swim?”
“I don't know.”
The answer was non-committal and distant. The older brother worried and sat down on the sand beside the surfboard. Rekker had to have the only surfboard on the coast that was black, covered in bloody skulls. Everyone else's was so brightly colored but the redhead liked to stand out. Robert knew this.
“What's wrong?”
Rekker looked away and Robert knew something was eating at him inside. Whether to push at the reason was always like walking into a mine field. Sometimes Rekker was desperate for understanding and others, asking was like waking an angry banshee from a century of sleep.
“Fuck the law.” Rekker snarled, stood and walked toward the water.
The laugh snorted out from the older brother was that reluctant humor of knowing this was the norm. Predictibility was a hallmark of the ginger. Despite what others thought, if you watched carefully his moods ran like clockwork or a flow chart with no diversions. Robert got to his feet and followed his brother out into the waist deep water. In the silence of the water lapping around his waist he wondered what had his brother so angry. Usually, the ocean defused his less savory moods.
Silence dragging on then Robert smirked and shoved Rekker into the water. The ginger was caught off guard and came up sputtering and coughing but on the move. Robert wasn't as deft in the water and soon found himself over Rekker's head and sailing face first into the waves. He had more warning to hold his breath.
“Do it again.” Rekker threatened as his older brother stood.
“And what if I do?” Robert taunted. After a lifetime with the guitarist, the green-eyed death glare didn't give Robert pause. He laughed at it. “Rekker, seriously, what is bothering you?”
A grouchy sigh came out before his brother turned away. This was serious. When Rekker got into these moods he was dangerous, mostly to himself, but could be to others if his temper flared too hot. Robert was worried for his brother as he walked closer in the incoming tide. While others might be put off by the tense body language, Robert reached out and touched his brother's arm. The muscles were flexed but the sigh and gaze that met his was hurt, subdued.
“I wish Bjorn was a woman.” Rekker finally spoke and then stared at the darkening sun.
Robert had thought his brother was happy. The dissatisfaction in his voice so unexpected that Robert fell silent too. How could he even address this topic? The older Brit realized he didn't even know what the topic was. A hundred whys were flooding his thoughts while he stood there.
“Why?” Robert finally asked gently instead of anything specific.
“Why?” The anger surged back into the guitarist's voice but then a sigh came so deep that the ebbing anger was tangible. Rekker shifted around in the waves and eventually turned back toward the beach. “I shouldn't have even tried to be happy. I knew better.”
Robert watched for a moment feeling the worry rise up in his gut. Anger was one thing but despair could be deadly for his brother if he went down too far into his depression. Someone needed to get through to him before he started to spiral.
“Derek!” Robert pulled out the voice he used when they were kids to break into Rekker's rage fueled tantrums. His real name, so rarely used, had Rekker spinning around to face his brother. “What in the …. what is going on? Why do you want Bjorn to be a woman? I thought...”
The look from his brother shut Robert's mouth, hit him hard in the chest. Years had past since he saw Rekker look so vulnerable and down. He hid it well, obviously, since no one had noticed the blackness he had building up. Robert found himself pushing his hair back and biting on his nails, nervous. If Bjorn and Rekker broke up now the fallout would be intense. They both had such strong personalities that the tour would become a powder keg.
He could see Rekker milling over something, about to say it, then turn away to pick up his board. The silence had to stop and Robert pushed a little harder. “What was that look for?”
Rekker's narrowed eyes came up, stormy green like a churning ocean and equally dangerous. The older brother fought the instinct to step back from the fury and silence. Robert did flinch when his brother threw the surfboard across the beach like it was nothing. The anger and frustration in his eyes had the older brother's sympathy. Everything was harder for Rekker because of his mental health, especially this, anything that upset him was infinitely harder to express than most could imagine.
“I screwed myself. It's my fault.” Rekker spit the words out with venom.
Robert knew that sound. His brother's internal voice getting the better of him. Instead of backing away he pushed all the wet,long red hair out of his brother's eyes. “What's your fault?”
Rekker's moodiness was spinning through his expression, the rage so quickly turning to something softer and raw. He still shoved Robert's hand away roughly. Robert put his hand right back and felt Rekker grab his wrist, vice like, angry. He was still so much like the angry teen that the older man had more or less raised when their parents didn't want to be bothered to. “Derek?”
Rekker shoved his hand away again and started to walk away. “You can't fix this, Robert. Not now.”
“Fix what?” Robert demanded as he felt his own rage stirring from his brother's obstinante, bull-headed behavior.
Rekker stopped a few feet away, looked at Robert, shook his head and started for the car. Even the surfboard was forgotten which meant Rekker wasn't thinking clearly, or at all. He was in autopilot and trying to get away. Robert had to get through to him before he did something outrageously stuipid. The guitarist was walking so fast Robert had to jog to catch up at the car. The door slung open Rekker flopped into the driver's seat with obvious despair.
“Stop having a tantrum.” Robert tried a different tactic. “You look like Bjorn when he isn't getting his way.”
Robert watched Rekker trying not to laugh. His brother wanted to stay angry at something but this was good. “No wonder you two like each other.”
The smile broke free while Rekker's one hand drummed on the steering wheel, bare feet pushing around the sand outside the car door. He waited patiently for his brother to look up. All that rage was gone and he look crushed.
“No one can...” Rekker pushed his hair back and then fumbled into the center console. Robert waited, watching. “This is a useless, damned....”
Confusion came first, until Robert looked at what was in Rekker's hand. Even if the box was lilac velvet instead of the traditional black there was only one thing that came in a box like that. The reality hit Robert like a kick to the chest. It took his breath and threatened to bring tears.
“.. it won't mean damn it.” Rekker came close to throwing the box out on the beach too before he relented to holding it in his lap, both hands around it protectively.
The whole mess of nonsequiters made sense now. Bjorn needed to be a woman for what Rekker wanted to do and that was the rage at the laws and the bitterness over nothing to do about it.
“Can I see it?” Robert squatted down in front of Rekker, still sitting slumped in the driver's seat.
Rekker opened the box to show of the platinum ring, blue diamonds that even Robert saw water in it. It was only a glimpse before the box snapped shut loudly. “I don't know why I bought it. I can't give it to him and just.. never... Fuck these laws.”
The rage came rushing back and Rekker punched the dashboard of his car. Robert did back away from the thrown punch. He knew his brother could put him out cold when he was this furious. Robert had to stay now and bring him out of this funk.
“Do it anyway.” Robert suggested. He rarely told his brother to do anything against the law. He would do it and that would cause trouble especially with his track record for punching arresting officers. “Do it anyway. Who's going to stop you?”
Rekker glanced up, rubbing the knuckles of his hand after punching the car. The box got tossed on the dashboard as he saw more defeat in the red head.
“You can, you know?” Robert encouraged. “I know nothing can stop you when you're this pissed off.”
Rekker smiled again while staring at the box. “Do you think he wants to be chained to this mess?”
Robert started laughing. “Can he get any more attached to you than he has been? You're like conjoined twins.”
“Let's go swimming.” Rekker stood up without another word and headed toward the water again. “Before it gets dark.” He called over his shoulder.
Robert shook his head but smiled to himself. He would need to prepare himself for the screaming that would happen. He already had the bracelet shoved in his face every time Bjorn saw him and was even a little tipsy. No one was going to be prepared for this.
Sunset was always Rekker's favorite time of the day. Robert knew this as he pulled into the beach parking lot next to the iconic silver firebird. All of L.A.knew who was around when they saw it parked. Robert pulled off his shoes and walked across the warm sand toward the sihillouette sitting on the beach. Rekker was right. This sunset was beautiful, more beautiful than most, or maybe that was merely the Brit's gladness to get some time with his little brother. Long ago he lost track of how many times he had worried that he'd walk away from a visit never to see him alive again.
Things were turning though. Robert kicked sand onto the board on purpose. Annoying his little brother was still high on his list of joys despite nearing fifty.
“Hey!” Rekker scowled as he brushed off the sand. “You'll scratch it.”
Robert smiled at the grouchiness. With Rekker, that surly disposition was a sign of life. “I thought you wanted to swim?”
“I don't know.”
The answer was non-committal and distant. The older brother worried and sat down on the sand beside the surfboard. Rekker had to have the only surfboard on the coast that was black, covered in bloody skulls. Everyone else's was so brightly colored but the redhead liked to stand out. Robert knew this.
“What's wrong?”
Rekker looked away and Robert knew something was eating at him inside. Whether to push at the reason was always like walking into a mine field. Sometimes Rekker was desperate for understanding and others, asking was like waking an angry banshee from a century of sleep.
“Fuck the law.” Rekker snarled, stood and walked toward the water.
The laugh snorted out from the older brother was that reluctant humor of knowing this was the norm. Predictibility was a hallmark of the ginger. Despite what others thought, if you watched carefully his moods ran like clockwork or a flow chart with no diversions. Robert got to his feet and followed his brother out into the waist deep water. In the silence of the water lapping around his waist he wondered what had his brother so angry. Usually, the ocean defused his less savory moods.
Silence dragging on then Robert smirked and shoved Rekker into the water. The ginger was caught off guard and came up sputtering and coughing but on the move. Robert wasn't as deft in the water and soon found himself over Rekker's head and sailing face first into the waves. He had more warning to hold his breath.
“Do it again.” Rekker threatened as his older brother stood.
“And what if I do?” Robert taunted. After a lifetime with the guitarist, the green-eyed death glare didn't give Robert pause. He laughed at it. “Rekker, seriously, what is bothering you?”
A grouchy sigh came out before his brother turned away. This was serious. When Rekker got into these moods he was dangerous, mostly to himself, but could be to others if his temper flared too hot. Robert was worried for his brother as he walked closer in the incoming tide. While others might be put off by the tense body language, Robert reached out and touched his brother's arm. The muscles were flexed but the sigh and gaze that met his was hurt, subdued.
“I wish Bjorn was a woman.” Rekker finally spoke and then stared at the darkening sun.
Robert had thought his brother was happy. The dissatisfaction in his voice so unexpected that Robert fell silent too. How could he even address this topic? The older Brit realized he didn't even know what the topic was. A hundred whys were flooding his thoughts while he stood there.
“Why?” Robert finally asked gently instead of anything specific.
“Why?” The anger surged back into the guitarist's voice but then a sigh came so deep that the ebbing anger was tangible. Rekker shifted around in the waves and eventually turned back toward the beach. “I shouldn't have even tried to be happy. I knew better.”
Robert watched for a moment feeling the worry rise up in his gut. Anger was one thing but despair could be deadly for his brother if he went down too far into his depression. Someone needed to get through to him before he started to spiral.
“Derek!” Robert pulled out the voice he used when they were kids to break into Rekker's rage fueled tantrums. His real name, so rarely used, had Rekker spinning around to face his brother. “What in the …. what is going on? Why do you want Bjorn to be a woman? I thought...”
The look from his brother shut Robert's mouth, hit him hard in the chest. Years had past since he saw Rekker look so vulnerable and down. He hid it well, obviously, since no one had noticed the blackness he had building up. Robert found himself pushing his hair back and biting on his nails, nervous. If Bjorn and Rekker broke up now the fallout would be intense. They both had such strong personalities that the tour would become a powder keg.
He could see Rekker milling over something, about to say it, then turn away to pick up his board. The silence had to stop and Robert pushed a little harder. “What was that look for?”
Rekker's narrowed eyes came up, stormy green like a churning ocean and equally dangerous. The older brother fought the instinct to step back from the fury and silence. Robert did flinch when his brother threw the surfboard across the beach like it was nothing. The anger and frustration in his eyes had the older brother's sympathy. Everything was harder for Rekker because of his mental health, especially this, anything that upset him was infinitely harder to express than most could imagine.
“I screwed myself. It's my fault.” Rekker spit the words out with venom.
Robert knew that sound. His brother's internal voice getting the better of him. Instead of backing away he pushed all the wet,long red hair out of his brother's eyes. “What's your fault?”
Rekker's moodiness was spinning through his expression, the rage so quickly turning to something softer and raw. He still shoved Robert's hand away roughly. Robert put his hand right back and felt Rekker grab his wrist, vice like, angry. He was still so much like the angry teen that the older man had more or less raised when their parents didn't want to be bothered to. “Derek?”
Rekker shoved his hand away again and started to walk away. “You can't fix this, Robert. Not now.”
“Fix what?” Robert demanded as he felt his own rage stirring from his brother's obstinante, bull-headed behavior.
Rekker stopped a few feet away, looked at Robert, shook his head and started for the car. Even the surfboard was forgotten which meant Rekker wasn't thinking clearly, or at all. He was in autopilot and trying to get away. Robert had to get through to him before he did something outrageously stuipid. The guitarist was walking so fast Robert had to jog to catch up at the car. The door slung open Rekker flopped into the driver's seat with obvious despair.
“Stop having a tantrum.” Robert tried a different tactic. “You look like Bjorn when he isn't getting his way.”
Robert watched Rekker trying not to laugh. His brother wanted to stay angry at something but this was good. “No wonder you two like each other.”
The smile broke free while Rekker's one hand drummed on the steering wheel, bare feet pushing around the sand outside the car door. He waited patiently for his brother to look up. All that rage was gone and he look crushed.
“No one can...” Rekker pushed his hair back and then fumbled into the center console. Robert waited, watching. “This is a useless, damned....”
Confusion came first, until Robert looked at what was in Rekker's hand. Even if the box was lilac velvet instead of the traditional black there was only one thing that came in a box like that. The reality hit Robert like a kick to the chest. It took his breath and threatened to bring tears.
“.. it won't mean damn it.” Rekker came close to throwing the box out on the beach too before he relented to holding it in his lap, both hands around it protectively.
The whole mess of nonsequiters made sense now. Bjorn needed to be a woman for what Rekker wanted to do and that was the rage at the laws and the bitterness over nothing to do about it.
“Can I see it?” Robert squatted down in front of Rekker, still sitting slumped in the driver's seat.
Rekker opened the box to show of the platinum ring, blue diamonds that even Robert saw water in it. It was only a glimpse before the box snapped shut loudly. “I don't know why I bought it. I can't give it to him and just.. never... Fuck these laws.”
The rage came rushing back and Rekker punched the dashboard of his car. Robert did back away from the thrown punch. He knew his brother could put him out cold when he was this furious. Robert had to stay now and bring him out of this funk.
“Do it anyway.” Robert suggested. He rarely told his brother to do anything against the law. He would do it and that would cause trouble especially with his track record for punching arresting officers. “Do it anyway. Who's going to stop you?”
Rekker glanced up, rubbing the knuckles of his hand after punching the car. The box got tossed on the dashboard as he saw more defeat in the red head.
“You can, you know?” Robert encouraged. “I know nothing can stop you when you're this pissed off.”
Rekker smiled again while staring at the box. “Do you think he wants to be chained to this mess?”
Robert started laughing. “Can he get any more attached to you than he has been? You're like conjoined twins.”
“Let's go swimming.” Rekker stood up without another word and headed toward the water again. “Before it gets dark.” He called over his shoulder.
Robert shook his head but smiled to himself. He would need to prepare himself for the screaming that would happen. He already had the bracelet shoved in his face every time Bjorn saw him and was even a little tipsy. No one was going to be prepared for this.
