Wes tossed the cardboard box to the kitchen floor and turned to glare at his brother with a curled upper lip. “When the fuck have I ever shown to have shit judgment?”

“Yuriy?” Portland shot back.

Wes looked like he had been slapped. “Fuck you, Yuriy was good at hiding his shit!” He gasped.

A smile split his brother's face then. “The fuck he was!” Portland laughed, “That kid was like something personally cut and pasted out of a horror novel from day one. You remember how he used to use his napkin when he was a kid?” Portland demanded, unfolding an invisible napkin to pat the side of his mouth with it.

“Like a gentleman?” Wes snapped, fluttering his lashes at his brother.

“Like a fucking psychopath!” Portland said loudly.

Wes scoffed. “You’re just jealous he got all the attention. Everyone in town loved him.” Wes stated.

“No -" Portland said slowly, firmly, "Everyone in town was scared shitless of him. They were fawning over him because they were terrified he was going to make them jump in front of a fucking car.”

“Oh my God. You are so dramatic. All the time.” Wes said dramatically as he turned to bend down and start unpacking the box onto the kitchen floor. “Someone needs to get his highness a fucking crown, cuz you are a drama king.” He said, digging through the box for a packaged pie. If he didn't find one he was going to kill himself and his brother because life was just not worth it if he had to do another month without pie from home.

“Wes.” Portland said firmly, grabbing the back of his brother's shirt to pull him up and forcibly turn him so they were face to face, nose to nose. “I don’t give a fuck if you listen to me or not, but I need to say it - " Portland said, his voice dropping down to a cool, dangerous drawl. "Jackson is fucking dangerous. I could tell the second I met his gaze. If Grandpa actually met the fucker instead of just trading love notes with him over text, he’d see it too. There’s something very wrong with that man. Something predatory and fucking dark.” Portland said firmly, loosening his grip on Wes a fraction to throw a paranoid look over his shoulder, looking around as if to search for a hidden camera. “I think he knows I know, which is why he booked it the fuck out of here.” He said in a suspicious tone.

“Because you’re the top dog and he’s scared of you?” Wes mocked. “Bitch, please.”

Portland's gaze snapped back to him. “Because he knows I’ll fucking say something to your fucking face and reveal his true character!” Portland half screamed at his brother.

Wes screwed up his face. “What are you saying, Porty? You saying there’s something very wrong with that man, something predatory? Something dark?”

“Yes.” Portland grounded out, scowling as he demanded “Why the fuck are you asking what I said and then just repeating exactly what I said back to me?”

Wes's eyes narrowed further. "Wait - are you asking why I'm just repeating exactly what you said back to you?"

Portland pushed his brother away and Wes laughed as he caught himself against a counter. Portland didn't look amused. “Look, I’m just going to say it now - you stick with that fucker and you’re going to probably end up in a dungeon somewhere on a feeding tube and shit, taking a permanent vacation from life living inside dick bag’s head just like in that documentary, "Key, Locked".” Portland said, holding up his hands.

“Like I said, Jackson is harmless. He basically worships me.” Wes scoffed as he turned to open a cabinet in search of a shot glass, suddenly feeling the overwhelming need to drink.

“He’s buttering you up, you fucking idiot. Your like little Hansel getting his face stuffed with sweets while the witch has a pleasant little conversation with him AND PREHREATS HER FOVEN!”

“You are so jealous!” Wes laughed, “Oh my God!”

Portland bristled at that. “Fuck off with that! Like I’d ever be jealous of your pathetic little life. I got a hot wife and five beautiful kids while you live in a fucking roach motel for three years, you fucking bottomfeeder!”

“And yet I’m still everyone’s favorite-” Wes screamed shrilly when his brother suddenly grabbed the back of his underwear and violently pulled it up, giving Wes a wedgie that was almost atomic. Wes suddenly slammed his elbow back into his brother’s side, Portland releasing the elastic band of Wes’s underwear before he planted a foot onto Wes’s back to send him tumbling sideways, Wes colliding with the kitchen table before he fell to the floor, kicking at his brother’s shin’s on the way down.

“Don't expect me to come visit you in the vegetable house when you’re laid up in bed, drooling on yourself -” Portland said before a maniacal smile took over his face, the elder of the two bending forward to grin down at the younger. “On second thought, expect me to visit you regularly and-” He jumped onto Wes then to sit on his stomach, wrestling to grab his wrists and start forcing Wes to slap himself. “Why you hitting yourself, why you hitting yourself!?” Portland laughed as Wes struggled. Portland burst into laughter as Wes let out a string of curses, screaming that was being crushed by Portland’s ass, coughing as he complained that he was being suffocated. “Why you hitting-” Portland yelped when he was suddenly picked up from behind and lifted into the air before he was roughly thrown through the air, flying out of the kitchen and onto the couch, where he hit the cushions and then bounce right off and onto the floor with a loud thud.

Wes’s strained coughs turned into strained laughter as he let Jackson help him up, Wes patting Jackson roughly on the stomach before he rushed over to jump onto Portland and his bemused look, the two wrestling on the floor while Jackson hung back in the kitchen, slightly out of breath and looking unsure as he watched the pair roll around, cursing and screaming at each other.

When the brothers finally settled, Wes was laying on the floor with a black eye and a split lip while Portland was draped over the coffee table resetting his slightly dislocated nose. Jackson went over then to help Wes up onto his feet, looking him over with a frustrated scowl as Wes swatted his hands away from his face to sit on the arm of the couch.

“Alright fuckface,” Portland coughed, Wes looking over to him with the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “I gotta get back before the kids get out from Sunday school, so call Ma, and, uh, remember what we talked about.” He said, giving a pointed look to Jackson, scanning him over with a stink eye before he fixed the Lock with a stare. He looked to Wes then and the two nodded at each other.

Portland left then without another word, slamming the door behind him. Jackson quietly went over and locked the door, coming back to watch Wes as he flopped backward onto the couch to lay there, his legs dangling over the arm still as he looked around for the tv remote.

Jackson slowly sat down on the couch next to his head, watching Wes all the while. After a minute of silence, he said very carefully “You and your brother...are very…”

“If you say similar, I swear to God, Jackson, I will never talk to you again,” Wes growled as he glared at the tv.

“Rough with each other,” Jackson said as he pulled out his phone, showing Wes that he was ordering them Chinese food over an app, this particular restaurant known for its speedy delivery and thus Wes's favorite.

“Oh. Yeah. Well. We’re brothers. I got five older brothers, we’re all pretty rough with each other. I mean- you have a younger brother.” Wes said with a dismissive tone as he tried to drop his feet on the coffee table, failing as it had been moved a few inches in his tussle with Portland.

“I do,” Jackson said slowly as he leaned forward to pull the table back into place, Wes putting his feet up onto it then.

“Yeah. A Younger brother..." He paused. Wes frowned at Jackson then, giving him a funny look. “Wait, how old are you exactly?”

“Old enough.” Jackson said firmly.

Wes huffed. “Well, do you get along with your brother?” Wes demanded as he looked back to the tv.

Jackson seemed to take pause at that, “My brother is a very sweet kid.” Jackson said carefully.

“What’s that supposed to mean? He a little bitch or something?” Wes asked suspiciously.

Jackson took another pause at that, “He’s fragile.” Jackson said finally. “He’s always been...fragile.”

“So are you, though. When we met, you were basically falling apart – I mean you're better now, but I’d still say you’re pretty fragile.” Wes pointed out, Jackson nodding with a look of agreement.

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed while Jackson got something for Wes to put on his eye while Wes found them a raunchy comedy to watch. 

It wasn't until the food arrived and Jackson was putting plates down for them that a thought occurred to Wes.

“Wait, don’t you have to go back to base?”

“No. I just said that so you could have some private time with your brother.” Jackson said coolly.

“Oh. Thanks.” Wes said with an appreciative grin, bottom lip beginning to bleed again.

Wes was so distracted by scavenging for the fortune cookies, he didn’t have time to think about the fact that he hadn’t remembered that he felt no vibrations at Jackson’s lie. He also missed Jackson's eyes following his tongue as he licked the blood off of his lip.