O Brother, O Bother
#54 of Hockey Hunk Season 4
It's been a long day at work, and Victor wants nothing better than to have an easy night at home. Will his brother Cobb comply?
Fun cover art by kensukethecat Thank you for your generosity, ken!
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Hello, everyone, and welcome to The Hockey Hunk!
The 2-year anniversary special concluded last week on Monday, and now it is time to return to the gentle, regular drama of the normal state of things in the Hockey Hunk universe - back for good, as some people have hoped. *chuckle* Yes, we'll be back indeed, for what I dare to suggest to be a very exciting final stretch of the season! I cannot give an exact figure on how many chapters we have to go, but we're getting there nice and steady, I think, and I can promise a lot of things to happen before we reach that point. The Hockey Hunk will naturally return for a season 5 later this year - the story goes on! *chuckle* Take that as an official announcement, if it wasn't clear yet. I've got stories to tell here yet.
I would also like to apologize for the small delay - I do hope to keep these chapters coming at regular intervals, but sometimes life interferes, and there you go. Hopefully things will be smooth going from here on.
And let's not forget to mention - somewhere in the mayhem of the anniversary special, we broke the 150-chapter barrier, meaning that this is the 153rd chapter of The Hockey Hunk - wow!
As always, your feedback is appreciated, and I hope you'll enjoy the read! Also remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well!
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What a day! You'd think that 12,000 ball point pens and two hundred staplers wouldn't pose so many logistical problems, but consider myself proven wrong. After two hours of calls with local transport companions, and one particularly self-righteous secretary at some goddamn country office, I was just about ready to claw my tie down or something.
Well, I wasn't wearing a tie today, though, much to Mr. Gabriel's disapproval, though it wasn't like we had a particularly strict dress code at work. Even Bambang Bambang didn't wear one. Maybe it made him feel uncomfortable in ways that us non-scalies couldn't understand. He'd gotten a new jacket, though, nice, brown, slightly shiny surface on it. Apparently it was a gift from Mrs. Bambang, as far as I understood. It was a bit of a strange, long-winded story that was going on in the coffee room, and I was only half-listening, anyway. The gossip between Sandra and Mrs. Wesley was much more interesting than hearing about strict dry cleaning instructions.
Oh, domestic bliss, I thought as I opened the door and stepped into my own bachelor pad.
"HELLO!" I bellowed. "I'm home!"
I went to kick off my shoes, listening and waiting for the inevitable onslaught.
"HELLOOOOOO!"
There we go. I chuckled a little and stretched out a little once I was standing upright again, my shoes neatly arranged next to the nicer, black pair, under the coat rack. Thus ready, I padded along the hallway and into the great living and dining area. It was not difficult to locate my brother, for he was at his favorite place, of course, where the food was, naturally. He had several pots going on even now on the range, and various smells floated around the apartment and easily made my maw salivate. If there was one good thing about having Cobb around was that the food was never in anything but abundance, and it was usually very nicely prepared, too.
"Hello," I greeted the apron-wearing cook with a wave of my phone-weary paw.
"You're almost on time," Cobb replied just as he was lifting a glass lid so that a vicious white steam rose and covered the paw he boldly pushed into the fumes, holding a wooden spoon.
"I was held up and missed my usual bus," I said, approaching the kitchen and its delicious smells. "Busy at work."
Cobb picked up a spice grinder from the table and gave it a couple of good crunching twists before he whipped the spoon in for a taste and then let out a satisfied bark once the mysterious fluid touched his lips.
"HMMMMMM!"
"Another success story in the making?"
I rounded the kitchen counter and leaned against it, on the business side of things, so to speak, letting Cobb work while I contemplated what kind of a snack I would dare to snatch before the elaborate meal was ready.
"I hope so!" Cobb's ears flicked rapidly. "I've got this delicious tomato soup coming for starters and then I've got a couple of nice steaks cooking here in their own juices and some herbs, and I'll just splash in some wine and cream and make it for a nice sauce..."
I shook my head a little and chuckled.
"You have too much time in your paws," I mused.
"Ohh I've been busy all day, I assure you," Cobb replied. "I woke up and did some paperwork for the company and then I went out and brought all this stuff in started prepping for dinner and there we are!"
I looked longingly at a basket of what could only have been freshly baked bread, and felt my stomach churn with hunger. It'd be easy to just grab a slice and devour it before Cobb had a chance to warn me about spoiling my appetite...surely one slice wouldn't be enough to do that...I could eat a lot, if I wanted to. Had to look after it a bit, though. Project Get Unflabby was still well on its way.
"Okay," I nodded.
"Everything alright with you?" Cobb asked, turning to face me now, standing upright and proper not like the slob I was, leaning against the door of the fridge.
"Yeeeah," I shrugged, my ears flicking, "same old, same old."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" my brother questioned.
"More good than bad, I suppose," I folded my arms over my chest and let out a long, relaxed breath before inhaling a lungful of spicy scents with me. "Keeping the machinery going as it is."
"That's always good, hehehe, that's what I do," Cobb winked.
"Even if you don't ever actually visit your workplace," I pointed out.
Cobb pouted and flicked his ears at me.
"I do all I need to do on the computer," he said, "my staff handles the rest."
"Your staff," I chuckled as I imagined the four furs who ran Cobb's warehouse.
"They're a damn good staff!" Cobb barked. "They allow me to be here and take care of you!"
I snorted.
"I think I'm about self-sufficient by now," I replied. "All fit and well!"
Cobb frowned.
"Well you never know when you might have a relapse..." he said, "some strange aftereffect...."
I waved my paw in the air, as if swatting him, but not going even near him.
"I'm not gonna wake up one day having forgotten the last 10 years of my life if you think that," I said, "Like in that trashy movie of the week you were watching on TV last night."
"That one was sooooo sad!" Cobb pouted. "That fox not remembering his wife or his kids..."
"Blargh," I said. "I'm hungry. Can I have a piece of bread before dinner?"
Cobb's eyes immediately jumped to the vulnerable basket, and before further words were spoken, he grabbed it and moved it to a safe-ish position behind himself, on the counter by the stove. Damn.
"You have to watch your glycogenic index!" Cobb rumbled. "If you eat bread now, it'll make you lose your appetite because it's got slowly burning carbohydrates in it!"
"Since when did you know about that?" I asked.
"Since I read it on General Interest," Cobb said with conviction.
"I didn't know you read that," I chuckled.
"Well, mom and dad get it every month," Cobb replied, "I read it every time I visit! It's got some very good articles about a wide range of topics!"
"That's why it's called General Interest, I dare to propose."
"Not to mention the General Interest Premium Book Club," Cobb's ears stood up defiantly.
I let out a barking chuckle.
"Of course," I said. "Every month, right?"
"Mom and dad are creatures of habit," Cobb scratched his arm slowly, "that's what happens when you get old."
"Mom and dad are not old!" I chuckled. "Dad's only turning 55 this year!"
"Well, I suppose then..."
I gave another lovelorn look at the food.
"Is this ready soon?"
Cobb made a quick round with his pots and pans before he spun around and gave me his verdict.
"Fifteen more minutes!"
Damn.
"Well I'll head to the shower, then," I made my decision. "Get that done before the food."
"I'll set the table!" Cobb beamed.
*
Gotta say, the food was great. That little bowlful of soup, a couple of crackers, some bread with butter, and then the steak, well-seasoned, everything seemed to be flowing off the plate, onto my fork, and then into my maw, just like that. It was delicious, and if I dared to say when it came to Cobb, almost subtle in composition. I willed myself to eat slowly and enjoy each bite, while Cobb, somewhat predictably, shoveled it into his maw at a magnificent speed.
"Well, Cobb," I said, leaning my elbows on the table.
"YEmhhmh?" he mumbled, lips together.
"Remember how I told you that I got that email from Tate Michaels?" I asked.
Cobb nodded rapidly, ears flicking too, and I could see him swallow before he belched, patted his chest, and smiled then, just as he went for his glass of mineral water.
"Of course!" he said. "I still can't believe that he lives here, oh man, it's weird how we've all ended up here from Cleveland! It's funny!"
I smacked my lips and nodded, quickly.
"It sure is..."
"So what's up with him?" Cobb asked eagerly. "How's he doing?"
"Just like usual, I guess," I said. "The message just said that he's still going to that rehab group he mentioned before, you know, talking and stuff, and those evening classes, and the like."
"Some sort of computer programming, wasn't it?" Cobb proposed.
"Yeah, I think," I said.
"Well that's good," Cobb smiled. "That he keeps busy, even now that he's no longer...you know..."
"What?" I rumbled.
"Well...uhm...fighting out there, for God and country," Cobb suggested, waving his fork.
"How quaint," I said.
"Don't know what to call it, really," Cobb said. "Don't know much about this so called foreign policy."
"I only know that sometimes furs come back with their legs blown off," I tensed at the idea of the sleek figure of the fox, now reduced to something else.
Cobb made a face, too, and I knew it'd be the best to hurry up.
"Well, you must remember that we were also talking about maybe meeting him...you know...me and you..." I said.
"Sure!" Cobb grinned. "Of course I remember! It's been a couple of weeks now since you got that first message, isn't it?"
"Since I read it, yeah, but he'd sent it earlier, "I said. "But yeah, well, I finally set a date."
"Really?" Cobb's ears jumped.
"Well, we needed something that fits both and since he's working and doing all sorts of things now, have to take him into consideration too, as well as me," I said, "well, us..."
"Of course," I could hear his tailstub rubbing against the backrest of the chair. "So when is it? I have to start planning what to eat and seating arrangements and..."
I flicked my paw, quickly.
"I doubt we'll need any fuss about it, Cobb," I told him, "we agreed that it'd be best to do it low key...something to eat, lots of time to chat, nothing too planned..."
Cobb rapped the surface of the table with his padded fingertips and made a thoughtful face.
"Maybe a salad bar...or dip...finger foods...salty and sweet snacks...maybe a light stew or maybe something Mediterranean...I've been itching to try that bouillabaisse recipe..."
I huffed.
"Low key, Cobb," I snorted as I pitchforked a piece of salad and deposited it to my mouth. "How about burgers or something? Like we always used to have in Cleveland..."
"That's not very festive, though..." Cobb rubbed his chin, "might have to choose a nice wine, too..."
"What did I tell you about not going overboard?" I breathed.
"Well we haven't seen him since high school, it's about time we give him a proper welcome!" Cobb clapped his paws together. "Got so much catching up to do!"
"He said himself that he doesn't want to be much trouble," I said. "No need to blow it out of proportion."
"PROPORTION!" Cobb hollered. "My old teammate's coming to see me after all these years and you think that a cup of coffee and a hamburger are enough to greet him with!"
I huffed again. Conversations with Cobb were like this all too often.
"I didn't say that, you did just now," I pointed out.
"Oh, poo," Cobb snorted. "Still, you have to admit, planning a nice evening with entertainment and food and drink for four can be a challenge, especially if the guests are as special as then!"
I frowned.
"He's coming alone," I said.
Cobb let out a bark.
"Don't you go forgetting Rory, brother!" Cobb winked. "Have to remember to make everything suitable for his tummy..."
Oh, shit. Should've known that he would take it to that direction. Of course he would assume and...well...he had the right to and...and...well, yes. That was true. Of course, if there weren't...issues.
I could feel the tension growing between my shoulder blades. Cobb kept looking at me, ears flicking, his mind undoubtedly formulating ways to introduce his brother's boyfriend to our mutual old friend...I could see his face, that big, smug expression as he'd...damn.
If only.
"Well, yeah," I said, letting out a rough breath. "Rory's not going to be invited."
Cobb looked hurt. I hurried to speak before Cobb had the chance to bark out.
"Look," I said, feeling warmth on my cheeks as I began to talk, "I..."
There was no way of going around the issue in circles. It had to be said, straight up.
I took a deep breath.
"I haven't told Tate about me," I said, as directly as possibly. "About me being gay."
I had to make that explicit. Sometimes Cobb was so damn thick.
He made a face.
"I thought you weren't embarrassed or shamed..." my brother rumbled. "You always keep telling me that!"
That warmth on top of my cheekbones intensified. I puffed out my cheeks in another cleansing breath.
"I know," I said, "And I'm not ashamed. I'm not particularly proud either because it's just who I am, but...yeah...I haven't told Tate."
"Why?"
"I guess I..." I stated, "I guess..."
"Is it about something Tate said?" Cobb asked passionately.
I felt almost relieved.
"You know he was a bully," I said. "You must remember how he and the rest of the football kids would walk around the halls and call everyone names and other shit like that. You were there."
"I didn't call furs names," Cobb sounded adamant. "At least not much."
His ears drooped. I let out a snort. Cobb grumbled and looked sheepish.
"Well I'm sorry to say, then, but every time I imagine myself telling him that I'm seeing another man or something like that I..." I paused, trying to sort the feeling out in my mind before I even tried to tell my brother about it, "I...damn...I just keep hearing that...that laughter and...how they'd call everyone homo or queer or pansy and..."
Cobb just looked at me, and I realized my teeth were bared. I swallowed and took a quick sip of water to get my maw feel normal again.
"I know kids just use it as a bad word because they think it's fucking funny, but I always knew that even if nobody knew, they were talking about me," I said quietly.
"Oh maaaan..." Cobb shook his head, and his paw quickly flew over the table and grabbed mine firmly. "I'm so sorry..."
"No need to," I said. "Nobody ever bashed me or anything. It just stung me...it didn't bite, like it does for some other poor kids."
"But it still made you feel terrible, and still does..." Cobb pouted.
"It's long past," I said. "I'm a grown up now. I can take care of myself. I don't think about it."
"But still it makes you not want to tell Tate that you're gay," Cobb sounded even more worried.
"What does it matter?" I said. "I can just say that I'm single. He probably won't ask another question if we don't mention anything about it to him. We'll just keep the topic out of the conversation, okay?"
"I don't really like it..." Cobb shook his head, still holding my paw, "But if you insist...."
"Yeah, I must do that," I said. "I want it to be nice for everyone, me, you...and...well, Tate, too. He apologized to me on those emails, you know...and...I suppose he could feel even worse about calling me a faggot if he learned that I really am one."
Cobb grimaced at the casual use of the word, and I really couldn't blame him. It was a dirty, ugly word, after all.
"It sucks," he said.
"Sometimes things just suck," I said. "But have to make the best out of them and not moan about them too much. Can't change the past. Can only change the future for the better, and if this makes it any better..."
"No more conflict, then," Cobb nodded resolutely.
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry."
"Oh stop it," I rumbled, giving his fingers a nudge with my own, breaking the contact. "I already feel like I was boohooing about it..."
"Well you gay guys are said to be really emotional and in touch with your softer side..."
I grunted.
"Is there any mail?" I asked, really wanting to change the topic before things became any more weird.
"It's by the coffeemaker!" Cobb replied, his chair creaking as he moved to stand up.
"I'll get it," I said, causing him to stop.
"Suit you," Cobb shrugged and picked up his fork again.
I slowly walked over to the kitchen, already spying the couple of envelopes and some glossy magazine resting on the counter...hmm...bills, was it now. I grabbed the topmost one and flipped it open...when my eyes caught the sight of something else altogether...below the magazine...something...something red...
Bright red...hmm...
I lifted the magazine and saw a small red plastic bag on the counter, with something solid inside it, I could tell as much, and the decorative letters printed on the side of the bag read: "THE ALBRECHT BROTHERS - SINCE 1893"
_ _
I bit my teeth together.
"COBB!"
*
Thank you for reading my story! I hope you enjoyed the read, and hopefully you'll also feel like giving me a comment or two, to tell me how I did. Also remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well.
See you on Friday!