"Look at this ritzy place, you fucker." Portland said as Wes opened the door to his new apartment, clearly impressed. "You had a doorman. He asked for identification." He said in awe as he shoved the large cardboard box in his arms at Wes, Wes taking it happily.

Wes smirked. "And what'd you do?"

"I was unzipping my jeans for him when you-" Portland held up his hands. "'Buzzed me in'," He said with a little wave of his hands. He dropped his hands then. "God damn, man."

"I know, right?" Wes chuckled with a smug look as he tossed the box to the floor and waved his brother in.

Portland entered and whistled low as he looked around, his face screwing up and he nodded in appreciation, waltzing into the spacy living room. "This place looks like a fuckin' magazine, man." 

"Yeah, we've only been here for a week now, so-"

"Not enough time to mess it up." Portland said with a knowing look as he eyed the high ceilings and the recessed lights.

"Exactly. I didn't want to send Ma any pics of it until I had properly broken it in, or else she would have accused me of lying." Wes said as he went over to where his new flat screen and game station to hold up his hands in a presenting way, just like he'd seen the girls on game shows do. When Portland nodded in approval, he went toward the kitchen. "I thought I'd take a picture of myself on the couch or something to prove it's mine, but she'd just accuse me of photoshopping myself in." He said as he went and stood against his double door fridge, dragging his arms up it with a smug look.

"She still thinks you know how to use computers." Portland chuckled.

"She's so cute! Remember when she would sit in on our typing lessons?! Never did figure out we were just fucking around!" Wes and his brother both mimicked over-exaggerated typing on a keyboard as they laughed loudly together.

Jackson came in then, having gone to take a shower and get dressed in something clean.

Portland saw him out of the corner of his eye and his laughter died off slowly. And then he was silent in clear shock, his jaw going slack. “Holy fuck, he’s real.” He looked at Wes. “I thought you just made his ass up so Mom would stop crying herself to sleep over your uselessness.”

Wes said, scowling as he took a toothpick out of the glass toothpick holder on the counter to stick in his mouth. “Who did you think was texting Grandpa?”

“You.” Portland said without missing a beat.

Wes chewed on the toothpick between his teeth for a second before he nodded, accepting that theory. He’d one hundred percent catfish his grandpa for a laugh. "Well, whose apartment did you think this was? you think I'd be able to afford this shit?"

"I thought you had found a way to break in and were just taking a joke really far!" Portland said loudly.

Wes shook his head, but again, accepted that his brother wasn't entirely unjustified in his assumptions. "Nah, man." He said easily, motioning to Jackson then. "Go poke him, he’s real.” Portland turned fully to Jackson than to give him a once over, his lip curling a little and eyes narrowing when he met the other man's gaze. “Porty, this is Jackson, my Lock. Jackson, this is my older brother, Porty.”

“Portland.” Portland corrected, reaching out to offer Jackson his hand.

“Please to meet you.” Jackson said politely, giving Portland's hand a brief shake before both men pulled their hands away to tuck into their pockets. There was a beat of silence before Jackson look to Wes with a tiny smile. “I have to head back to the base for a check-in, but I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“Sweet. Let’s do Chinese food. Orange chicken.” Wes said pointedly as he hopped up onto the counter, holding up his hands to show off the door of his cabinets to Portland before he spit the toothpick to the floor.

Jackson smiled and nodded at Wes before he and Portland exchanged brief nods, the slightly taller man going then towards the door to the apartment.

Portland stared at the empty entryway to the kitchen for a long minute, listening to Jackson leave and close the door before he turned to Wes. “So...can he hear you right now?”

“Like...through the walls?” Wes asked with a frown.

“Like in your mind, dickweed.” Portland growled.

Wes stuck his tongue in his cheek as he stood up straight, thinking about it. “Not right now, no...I can feel it when he can…”

“Are you sure?” Portland drawled as he walked briskly to the large window in the living room, looking down it with a hawkish stare.

“Yeah,” Wes said, sniffing then as he crossed the room to go after his brother, ruffling his hair as he went. “I can feel it-” He went over to the cardboard box of things his brother had brought with him and pulled out a thing of cheese spray, spray some in his mouth. “Not as much as I used to, cuz ‘m used to it I guess, but I can tell.” He said with a full mouth.

“How?” Portland demanded, still staring out the window. When he saw Jackson walking out of the building, he glared down at him.

Wes’s lip curled as he whirled around to eye his brother. “Why?”

“Just how, Wes?” Portland pressed.

Wes’s lip curled further as he rolled his eye dramatically. “I can feel it – when I can’t feel it, he doesn’t hear me. Like, the first night we were here, I was laying in bed and wanted a beer, so I was like thinking – ‘Sonny, get me a beer!’ But he didn’t, so I knew he couldn’t hear me.”

“How the fuck does mean he can't hear your thoughts?" Portland growled as he came away from the window to go toward his brother. 

“Because he always gets me a beer when I tell him to?” Wes said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, standing then to spray another mouthful of cheese into his mouth.

His brother gave him a similar look. “Really?”

“Really, man. It’s awesome.” Wes said, grinning then as he came to meet his brother in the living room.

His brother look unimpressed and waggled a finger at him. “It’s not for free, stupid ass!” Portland stressed. “My own wife doesn’t do that shit for free.”

Wes pulled a face. “Um, the bond between a key and lock is a lot more profound than that of a marriage.” Wes said, talking down to his brother like he was a stupid child.

“Um, the fuck?” Portland responded. “It is not.”

“Um, I literally slip inside Jackson very, very intimately. Can you say the same about you and your wife?” Wes demanded. The two stood there in silence for a beat before Wes’s eyes narrowed. “I-I hear it now.” He said, his jaw clenching briefly, his lips pursing before they twisted into a scowl. “My point is, I know Jackson, and he gets me beer, and pays my rent, and drives me around for free because I’m awesome and I fill up his cracks and holes out of the kindness of my heart.” Wes said, giving his brother a smug grin.

Portland shook his head. “Oh my god.” He briefly held his hand to his forehead, screwing his eyes closed. “Okay. You fucking idiot.” He opened his eyes and fixed his brother with a hard look. “That guy is a huge bag of dicks. We’re talking bargain buy size.”

Wes laughed at his brother, just like he would laugh at one of his nephews when they would hilariously mispronounce something. “Jackson?” Wes asked, his brows knitting together as he smiled at his brother, “Jackson is harmless.” He said as he went and grabbed the cardboard box.

“Nah.” Portland said shortly, sticking his tongue in his cheek as he slowly shook his head. “That guy is for sure a bag of dicks.”

“Um, I think I know him a little bit better. I am inside of his head. Mostly.” Wes tacked in after a thought.

“Yeah, but you’re also an idiot.” Portland drawled, going to follow Wes into the kitchen.

Wes scowled over his shoulder at him, offended. “‘Excuse you?”

“An idiot with shit character judgment,” Portland said, louder this time. “Seriously. That guy is trouble. Watch your ass.”