Belated Card

by Xscribe


TITLE: Belated Card
AUTHOR: XScribe
RATING: NC-17
CLASSIFICATION: Pre-X-Files
PAIRING: M/OMC
SUMMARY: Fox is confronted with the final rites of passage into acceptance or denial by Perry's family. ARCHIVE: Yes, just let me know.
DISCLAIMERS: No infringement intended on the legal ownership of X-Files characters. NOTES: Special thanks to my wonderful beta and friend for helping out and sticking by me, SiberianSkys. It was her question that inspired this fic and if not for her, it wouldn't have been written nor seen the light of day. FEEDBACK: As always, I look forward to it. Xscribe123@yahoo.com


PERRY

A belated birthday card. Just a plain, belated, uninspired birthday card. The secretary probably picked it out. I knew Wyeth and he never sent me anything dull. All right, I'd deserved it. I'd gone off to America for the entire summer. It was the first summer I'd ever spent away from my brother in all our lives.

The entire first term went by and he never rang me. Not once. I tried and got put off by the secretary: Mr. Wyeth was busy, out of office, in conference, or like as much, and would get back to me at his convenience. Only he never did. I was hurt.

A ways back when Dot first came to work with us, she told me something I never forgot. At an age when I was nave enough to believe that nothing in my comfortable life would ever change, above all else, it was the underlying circumstances at the time that really made her words stick. If she'd given me the same speech at most any other time, I might have forgotten all about it within days. Interestingly, she knew nothing about those underlying circumstances when she gave it, so could never fully appreciate the impression her short lecture made on me. It did, however, change my attitude toward her forever after.

I'd quickly come to dislike her from the second day she was in our house. My resentment, it turned out, was misplaced. She'd been led to believe that along with the housework and cooking, she'd have to mind two problematic boys. With the way we both treated her, we could only have convinced her, albeit unwittingly, it had to be true. It must have seemed like a daunting task to a newly-hired housekeeper.

In fact, she was a tough bird. She had to have been; anyone of lesser fortitude would have fled in horror on learning by the parents' own admission that the children perpetually bickered and were always at each other's throats. We had no idea our parents had told her such an outrageous fib--hell, we didn't even know they were capable of that sort of thing.

Following instruction, Dot did her best to keep us apart. That earned her immediate contempt from both of us-- although as a rule Wyeth tended to dislike all our housekeepers. We concluded that she was just a mean, spiteful cow.

While Wyeth worked on tactics to chase her off the way he'd done our previous housekeepers, I was forced to hang about her while I did my homework. The only way I was allowed out of her sight for any amount of time was if I went to call on mates and even then, I had to be very specific about where I went and what time I got back.

Days later, when she'd had enough of our resentful, difficult behavior toward her, she let me in on the story our parents had given her. As I was eleven and therefore had to be easier to handle than my rebellious fourteen-year-old brother, I was the one she approached to reach some sort of an understanding. That was when she passed on the gentle lecture about enjoying the company of my family in my youth because when we grew up we'd have the rest of our lives to be strangers. I assured her that our parents hadn't been at all honest with her about me and Wyeth, so in trial, she forsook the instructions she'd been given about keeping us separated. With that, Wyeth promptly ceased slipping toads in the clean laundry and spiders in the kitchen cabinets, emptying ashtrays and tracking mud on the freshly Hoovered carpet, and the like. We all got on after that, though she never did learn why our parents had lied to her, I don't think.

I guessed Wyeth and I had reached the stage she'd warned me about--becoming strangers. It felt a bit as if he'd died. I couldn't help but think of the agony Fox must have suffered over the loss of his sister. Of course I didn't mention how I felt--it would have seemed daft to him; after all, my brother hadn't literally died or been stolen away. I did know that I'd go mad if anything like that ever happened to my brother.

The next time I rang my folks, I asked how Wyeth was. It was November. They said he was doing great and had a new girlfriend.

That holiday, my parents wouldn't hear of letting Fox go home. They begged him to stay on again. It didn't take much convincing. He gladly attended me home. According to my folks, Wyeth was supposed to come home for holiday, as well. I tried not to let on to Fox, but I waited desperately for my brother.

He didn't show up until a few days before Christmas. And he didn't come alone. He brought his new girl, Genevieve.

She was a stunner, for sure. Blonde, pretty, gregarious, friendly. She seemed to get on with Mum and Dad and tried getting on with me and Fox. I don't know about Fox, but I was leery. Wyeth said they'd been visiting her family in Manchester, which was why they were late.

In the morning, I learned Mum and Dad weren't exactly keen on her, either. They'd invited her to stay on only because Wyeth wouldn't have spent Christmas with us, otherwise. Over the next couple of days, they came to like her less and less. And wound up asking me to have a talk with Wyeth. Now there was a kick in the ass, all things considered.

Since she'd arrived, I'd been sussing her. The only time Wyeth had an actual chat with me was to ask how I liked her. With no place for privacy in the house, we stepped outside.

"I dunno," I admitted. "She's rather the shallow-type, isn't she?" Best to start out with an understatement.

"Well, you know--she doesn't know you yet. Just being polite and cautious, which if you ask me, is the smartest route. She's a looker, though inn't she? Fancy a go at her?"

Taken aback, I almost choked. "Christ, no!"

Unfazed, he shrugged and took a drag on his cigarette. "Well, that's your loss, then. She's the one, you know. I'm going to marry her. I was planning to announce it at Christmas."

"Marry? You barely met her! Have you lost your mind?"

"Oh, no. I've known her a while. Before I split up with Cammie."

Incensed, I thrust my hands in my pockets. "Fine. Marry the scrubber. Just don't ask me to the wedding, 'cause I can tell you right now I won't come." I started back inside. Bugger it. He may as well have died.

"What?" He followed me. "How can you say a thing like that? I'm expecting you to be my best man."

"Find someone else," I said dryly.

"Look, I want you to get to know her. Much better than in front of the folks. I haven't proposed to her yet. She doesn't know I'm going to ask her. If you really don't approve, I won't go through with it. There's no one's judgment I trust better than yours."

My whole family was like that. A bunch of dafties. Even my dad. Sometimes, it was as though everyone thought I had some sort of special powers of divination. And I was the youngest. It wasn't as though they were simple--far from it, in fact. If my parents had known all the outrageously barmy things I'd done in my life up to that point, they wouldn't have asked me to tell them the weather if I was standing in a cold rain. I guess they thought me the most level-headed one, next to Dad.

I turned back to face my brother, our breath hanging in the cold air. "I'm not so sure it'll make any difference, from what I've seen so far. Even so, I can't up and run off and you know it. What the hell am I supposed to tell Fox?"

"He's just your mate, not your wife." Wyeth paused. "Unless that's how it is between you two now."

"I dunno how it is," I snapped. "But I have to tell him where I go and what I do. It wouldn't be right to just--" The way Wyeth looked at me made me stop and think about what I'd just said. Fox and I may as well have been married. It was a wild thought and left me feeling winded. Was that how it was between us? Marriage was supposed to be for love. Did I love him more than just as a very dear mate?

My brother, however, was pained about it. Not hacked off like I would have expected--hurt. Did he see more than I about the situation? Or was he just playing for my sympathy?

Whatever my feelings for Fox, Wyeth was my brother. We were forever. At the time, I loved the idea of forever with Fox, too--I couldn't imagine anything else. I wouldn't say it. Not to anyone--not even myself. There was no guessing such a thing, and trying to pretend it could be seemed absurd. We were blokes. The one thing I did know was that whatever happened between me and Fox, Wyeth would always be my brother. Always there for me, like he'd been all my life. Right then, I had the option of distancing us for the rest of our lives or not.

My heart didn't have to take another beat--I chose not.


WYETH

Genevieve's timing was perfect. As I'd told Perry, I had known her before I broke up with Cammie. Genevieve was the daughter of a client and right scrummy. She was everything I needed at the time when Cammie and I were having rows about every bloody little thing.

Much as Perry and I had agreed not to tell anyone about the offer to join the family business, I'd told Genevieve. She'd talked me into it. I'd never breathed a word of it to Cammie.

Genevieve had a much better grasp of business and financial matters than most birds. So when she told me I'd have to be an absolute twit not to take the offer, I realized she was right. How could I have been so bleeding stupid to think otherwise?

Once I learned Perry had gone home for Christmas, I decided it was time for him to meet Genevieve.

Now, she'd seen the family photos in my office and flat and was well aware of what a looker he was. So when I stressed to her it was important that she and Perry got on, she was more than delighted to meet him.

After some clever bit of manipulation, which I knew my brother could manage, he finally arranged to get away from his pretty boyfriend for a few hours. It riled me that the bloke should have any say at all if Perry wanted to spend time with me. On the other hand, I understood completely. I've always been very possessive of my brother, as have the rest of my family and countless others, as they got to know him. It would have been right stupid of me to imagine that Fox couldn't possibly fall barmy in love with my irresistible little brother, and therefore, couldn't be blamed for acting the same way.

As often, I'd booked a hotel room in Windsor--only this time I'd damned the cost and chosen one of the finest to impress Genevieve. That was where we took Perry. Now I'd warned her not to disclose that she had any knowledge of the family business offer. Sharp as she was, she had no trouble keeping her luscious mouth shut.

To my amazement, I watched her wax her charm all over him and yet he was immune. Ordinarily, Perry readily lapsed into casual, affable conversation with most everyone. When he didn't like someone, it was akin to a hex; he'd always been awfully good at sussing people for what they really were.

I raised my eyebrows at Genevieve and she really turned on the seduction. Switching to sit on the sofa with him, she took his hand, stroked his knee, showed off her cleavage--the lot.

It seemed that was a worse mistake. Not five minutes later, Perry finished off the last of his drink then got up. "I'd better be getting back."

The moment I locked eyes with him, I saw his frown. It was the frown that had long knelled the death toll on the prospect at hand--whatever it may be. That knack of his would be invaluable for him as a barrister.

The truth was, he was right about Genevieve, and I knew it. Half of my attraction to her was about lust, the other half the desire to hurry and settle myself from my brother. It had only been a matter of time. Perry had found himself a good mate and had lost interest in anyone else--including family. If it weren't for his lack of income, he probably wouldn't have bothered to come home for Christmas, at all.

I followed my brother out in the hall towards the elevator lobby for some privacy. "What is it?" I feigned. "Don't think she's pretty enough?"

Stopping, he turned back to me, gaze lowered and spoke quietly. "That's not it. She's just not your sort. She's right dodgy, that one. But I can't tell you what to do."

"You don't think she's sexy? I'm offering her--"

"I don't want her." His eyes met mine. "Marry her if that's what your heart's set on, but it won't be with my blessing. I don't like how things have gone between us. You're my brother--I love you." Oh, bloody hell. The sapphire pools filled. "I always will. I'll hate seeing you put yourself through this."

If there was one damn thing in the whole world I could never manage, it was Perry's tears. No one in the family could. That was why we all did our best to pacify him as quick as possible and do our bloody best not to invoke them. I'd pushed him, sure as hell, but it was for the sake of allaying my own worst fears: that he'd come to resent and dislike me and would hate me the rest of our lives. I ached from the indifference he'd shown me over the past year. "Things will hardly be any different for you, whether I marry her or not. You'll still be off with your boyfriend all the time and treat me like last Tuesday's done French letter."

He studied me silently a moment. "Turf her out. Turf her out right now and I'll show you how much you mean to me."


PERRY

Out of nowhere, I woke in a hotel room in a panic. Where the hell was I and what time was it? Sleepy, I blinked around till I saw a clock. It was after ten. Bloody hell! Anxious, I rang out to my folks.

My dad answered. When I asked after Fox, Dad replied, "Oh, he's been a bit antsy, is all. You know, it is rather rude of you to leave your guest all day like this. Last time you did, you'd taken ill. I can't blame him for thinking the worst again."

"Nothing like that," I assured my father. "We just had a bit to drink and the next thing I knew, I'd fallen asleep. Must've been knackered, I suppose. Can you put him on?"

"Fallen asleep? Where are you? Did you go to London?"

"No, no. We're here in Windsor. Genevieve had-has a room," I quickly corrected. "She's got more rellies to visit who live close by."

"You mean she's not coming back?"

"Uh-no." I glanced to the other bed. Wyeth seemed to be asleep.

"And Wyeth? He's going with her, I suppose."

"Nah, he's staying the rest of holiday with us."

"Hm...I rather took it they were...They didn't have a row or anything, did they?"

"He'll explain it all in the morning. So...Can I have a word with Fox, then?"

Like I expected, Fox wasn't too pleased. After I assured him I'd be leaving any minute, I shook Wyeth to get up and take me home. It turned out he hadn't been asleep, but had heard my quiet, hasty conversation with Fox. Naturally, Wyeth had to grumble about it or he wouldn't be Wyeth. Having made sure I knew of his disapproval, he got up, and drove us back to our folks'.

Despite that I was right shattered by then, I showered before crawling into bed with Fox. There I cuddled against him. He kissed my wet hair and I went right to sleep.


FOX

The day before, the Elden-Becks had done their best to entertain me. They'd offered to take me for a drive, the cinema, to visit, only I declined everything except dinner. I wanted to be home when Perry returned. We played Scrabble and I had them tell me about his childhood. I loved hearing about Perry's past and they were only too happy to talk about their youngest son.

Though I'd felt a little jilted the day before, I did understand that he and his brother had every right in the world to want to spend time together and why it was important for Perry to get to know Wyeth's new girlfriend. Especially because he'd figured so little in Perry's life the past year.

By the next morning, I was all ready to put the incident behind us. I woke him by kissing his pretty face. He was hard to resist--he looked so angelic. When he woke, he stretched like a long, tawny, jungle cat then I went on kissing his face, ears, neck, and throat. I'd really missed him the day before.

"Sorry I acted so shitty yesterday," I murmured against his throat. "You and Wyeth haven't seen each other in a long time..."

"Still, I should have taken you along...It's just Wyeth...He can still be such an immature dick, you know?"

"No, I understand..." I unbuttoned Perry's pajama shirt to run my mouth over his shoulders. "He wanted you to get to know his new girlfriend on a more casual basis without your parents around. I kind of got the idea he was serious about her. More serious than he was about Camille."

"Don't wanna talk about that right now..." Taking my chin, he guided me up so he could kiss me. Afterwards, he looked over my face. "Missed you."

One of the things I loved about Perry was how honest and open he could be. Most of the time guys jest because being honest and open makes them nervous. I should know--I'm guilty of the same. He wasn't though. I was learning to be more open with him, in turn. "Missed you, too."

We kissed a while longer until I absolutely had to get up to relieve my full bladder. "If I go take a quick shower," I asked, "will you wait here for me?"

He checked the clock. "Dot'll be after us to make up the beds and have breakfast before long."

"No she won't," I reminded him. "She's on Christmas vacation, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll be here, then."


After practically a year of showering together any time we felt like it, it was hard keeping away from each other in Windsor. Still, there was nothing untoward if Perry wanted to come in to use the bathroom while I showered or vice versa. We just had to leave the door unlocked.

He came in while I was showering.

"I thought you were going to wait in the room," I said.

"I had to use the toilet. And thought I'd have another shower."

"You showered last night."

"What's that got to do with it?"

"Then come on in."

"You know we oughtn't."

I sighed. Showering with Perry had become so comfortable. We loved soaping each other down. It didn't necessarily have to become sexual.

So I waited for him, instead. In the bedroom, in my robe, I lay back on the bed which I'd neatly made up, and watched TV. When he returned, bundled in his robe, he startled at the sight of me.

"What's wrong?" I laughed.

"N-nothing. I thought you'd probably gone down to breakfast."

"Fuck breakfast. Comere." I patted the empty bed beside me.

"You sure you're not hungry?"

"Yeah, I'm hungry. But not for food..."

"Well, I..."

With the chair tucked under the doorknob, he came to the bed and joined me. I'd noticed that the Elden-Becks didn't look in on us any more. When they made announcements while we were in Perry's room, they simply knocked and said it through the door. It was just as well his mom--Anora, as she wanted me to call her--had found out about us. I wondered exactly what she'd told Mr. Elden-Beck--or Halliwell, as I was supposed to call him. If they did both know, they were taking their son's unconventional relationship remarkably well.

Then I got a look at Perry in the gray morning light coming in through the window and it was my turn to start.

I'd worked his robe all the way open with a little effort. I had a clear view of him all the way down. I knew he'd shaved his beard that morning, but his chest, lower abdomen, and pubis had also been shaved. Now I knew he hadn't been in the shower anywhere near long enough for him to have done all that. I was mesmerized, titillated, and freaked all at the same time.

He was gorgeous, of course--I could see every beautiful detail of his incredible body and sex organs, totally unobscured. What I wanted to know was when the hell had he done it? Obviously, not that morning. The day before, when he'd taken off with Wyeth to get acquainted with his new girlfriend?

Drawing from him, I backed against the headboard. "Just what exactly went on yesterday?"

Pulling his robe closed, he crawled up and wrapped himself around me. "You don't like it?"

"What? Are you kidding? I love it." I tried to look down his chest, but he cuddled too tightly against me. "What I want to know is when you shaved? You weren't like that when you left yesterday."

"What's that matter?"

The answer was self-evident; I didn't say anything.

Only he took that as an excuse not to respond instead of the prompt it was meant to be. He nuzzled my neck and chest.

"Yesterday?" I presumed archly. "For Genevieve, I suppose?"

"Don't be daft..."

"How can you call it daft?" I held him off. "You spend half the day with her then come back, all smooth. What did you think you were you doing? She's your brother's girlfriend."

Sighing, he settled on his elbow on his side to address me. "They split up yesterday. Wyeth was going to make the announcement over breakfast this morning. In fact, he probably has by now."

"Why? Over you? I can certainly see why."

"No, no. They split up 'cause I didn't care for her."

"What the hell difference should that make to him?" Not that I had any real-life experience in this field, but since the beginning of mankind, families had always had lousy track records in that department. How in the world had Perry managed to pull off such a monumental task in just one day?

"It did, didn't it?"

"If they really did break up, how the hell did you do it? I mean, I know you didn't like her and you were going to talk to him about it--I didn't think anything would actually come of it."

He shrugged. "It seems he was actually about to propose to her on Christmas. I got to him just in time. I'm glad I managed to talk some sense into him."

"In other words, he wasn't really sure if that was what he wanted to do."

"Whatever the case, I set him straight. He turfed her off right then and there."

Being as I didn't like the girl either, Perry's visit with them had turned out to be fortuitous. Not that it would have had much effect on me, but I didn't like the idea of him being miserable over the person who became his sister-in-law. "Was that before or after you shaved?"

"Before."

"So if you didn't do it for her entertainment, when and why did you do it?"

"You don't honestly think I would have done it for her, do you?" he pulled back, making a face. "Oh, come off it. Don't make me sick up, now."

I was truly at a loss. "I don't know what to think."

"I dunno. It was a spur of the moment thing. Wyeth and I got a bit tight after he turfed her off, and I just thought, what the hell?"

"He helped you?"

"So he did. You know how it is when you're pissed. Sometimes you get barmy notions. I thought you might like it."

It was still hard for me to imagine that his family was that cool with my relationship with Perry. I was going to be embarrassed the next time I came across Wyeth, but damn was I going to enjoy the razor work.


WYETH

My parents couldn't have been more astonished to hear about Genevieve than if I'd told them I was having a sex change. Well, maybe not astonished--more at disconcerted.

Dad made noises about rousting his lazy youngest from bed, but Mum intervened. She insisted we let him "sleep in" and not disturb our guest, either. If he chose to sleep in, as well, that was his privilege. Now Mum I knew, had twigged they were a couple and had said she'd tell Dad, "in time." I didn't know if she had or not by then, and I sure wasn't going anywhere near the subject.

Because Perry wasn't about, I wound up having to help Dad add the last decorations to the tree, while Mum tended laundry and that sort of rot. He was a bit testy, too. I knew he hadn't been happy since Perry and I had staggered in late last evening and was even less pleased on learning I'd put paid to my romance with Genevieve. He got impatient a few times while we were busy. He finally got on me over when I was going to quit mucking about and properly settle down.

At twenty-four, I saw no absolute need for settling yet. My main motive in proposing to Genevieve, I knew underneath it all, was to hopefully get a rise out of Perry. It had worked quite swimmingly.

"I really had the idea you fancied Genevieve," Dad said, shoving his half-frames up in place to ascertain whether he was holding the ornament front or backside toward him when he hung it. "Taking her places, spending so much money on her."

"Well, I did." I had, rather. But more like a trophy than anything else. Being married to her couldn't hurt, particularly with her family's wealth. With that and the Elden-Beck wealth, I'd soon have access to, we would have been extremely well off. "It was fun and all but Perry set me straight."

"Perry? What's he know about it? He's just a kid, himself. If anything, you should be the one setting him straight about finding a girl and settling down. You did your damage--it's about time you made up for it."

Starting, I dropped the box of hangars and they scattered all over the hardwood floor. "What the hell you on 'bout? Just look at him. The kid's a fucking genius. Aside from the high scores he always made in school, he's a bloody talented artist. He's got brilliant social skills and plenty of others, as well. I don't know anyone else who has as much going for him. Yet you perceive him as 'damaged'?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. Now pick all that up." He proceeded to rearrange the decorations on the tree.

"No, I don't." I knelt on the floor. "I don't see anything wrong with Perry. He had more sense than I did, warning me about Genevieve. He was right."

His back to me, Dad mumbled, "I suppose he told you you'd be better off finding yourself a bloke."

"No," I said snidely, "he's not blinkered like you; he's got no preference for one sex over the other."

"Is that so? Then why is it he so seldom ever brought girls 'round?"

"Sure he did. That artist mate of his he'd known since primary school or something. The one we'd all assumed was a bloke and turned out to be a girl. Leslie or Lindsay. You and Mum were all beside yourselves about how bloody cute she was when you finally met her."

"Nothing ever came of it. That was a long time back."

"No, it wasn't," I scoffed. "He was in college by then."

"He never did much properly date her either, did he? The odd ones he mentioned from time to time he didn't bring 'round to meet us. We never did know for certain if didn't just make them up."

"Well, I can tell you right now," I assured Dad, "he didn't. I met 'em. Some, at any rate. Right lookers, too."

"Well, I don't believe you. I suppose you'll start dating men, yourself, from here on out."

I bit back the impulse to inform him I'd hardly be "starting". "So what if I do? You like Fox. He's a good kid. Perry's right lucky to have found him. I should be so jammy."

"That doesn't make it right," Dad snapped. "I can only be thankful Perry's got some sense about him. Bloody fine stock that lad is, too. If only he'd been a girl, he'd make a right perfect daughter-in-law. I hate to think of the fine children they can't have."

Once I finished picking up the hangars, I resumed unpacking more decorations. "Look, Perry could take up with a girl for that sort of thing at any time. He'd have his pick. Girls have always gone daft for him." So did blokes, but I wasn't about to mention that.

"That's precisely my point. He could have his pick, all right. If you hadn't gone and made a queer of him, he'd have found himself a girl as good as Fox, by now. If not Lindsay, then someone else."

"I didn't make him any way at all. He's got a mind of his own, you know. Always has."

"We both damn well know what you did."

Enraged, I got up. "I'm going out for a smoke. You can finish up here on your own."


Over lunch, I couldn't help noticing the tired, well-satisfied look about my brother. Fox had that look, too.

Our parents more or less brought Fox up to date as to why Genevieve was no longer present. More or less, because they left it to me to deliver the bulk of the explanation, although I was sure Perry had already informed his boyfriend she'd not be spending any more of the holiday with us.

By then I was in no mood for playing polite, so they really shouldn't have left it to me. "I turfed her out 'cause Perry felt she wasn't my type--he said she was right dodgy. Weren't those your exact words?" I asked my brother.

Wiping his mouth first with his linen, he laughed lightly. "Yeah, I guess I did use those exact words."

"Well, there it is," I said. "Sounds like reason enough to turf anyone out, doesn't it?"

"I don't know," Fox laughed, too, only his laugh was a tad more uncertain than Perry's. "It's a little surprising, is all. Sure, I'd trust Perry's assessment--he seems to be a pretty good judge of character."

"For the most part," Dad said over his soup. "Though there are times when he can be a bit biased."

I intervened. "Fox is right, Dad. You know how Perry is. He's never been one for playing favorites."

"There are areas," Dad went on, "in which he's not had enough experience to make proper judgment."

"Not this area" I said.

"Dad," Perry said gently. "She was the dodgy sort and you know it. All that gold jewelry, the mink coat, the snotty, expensive clothes, the overly plummy affect...Come off it."

"Her family," Dad stressed, "is quite affluent. She could bloody well afford those things, I assure you."

"Is that it, then?" Perry gestured with his spoon, levelly eyeing Dad. "You'd rather your son play prostitute rather than risk losing a rich client?"

"At least she was fe-male," Dad retorted pointedly.

Fox paled, abruptly.

"Halley!" Mum jumped, nearly spilling her tea.

Perry started ever so slightly, except for the dark of his pupils dilating on the crystal blue backdrop.

"Don't let it bother you, darling," Mum quickly interceded on Fox's behalf. "He doesn't mean you any offense--"

In his ultra-casual way, Perry became defensive, picking up the gauntlet. To anyone else, it wouldn't have seemed that way at all. I didn't even know if Fox was aware of it. As immediate family though, we knew. "I see Mum told you." I think Perry may have touched his boyfriend beneath the table, out of sight. "I meant to, myself, this holiday, but it seems she already has."

"I don't care to discuss it," Dad dismissed, shoving his bowl and soup forward, and promptly rising. "I have to accept what you've become. If nothing else, I know it wasn't your fault, at any rate." He left the room.

None of us spoke. Until Fox began, placing his linen on the table, eyes averted from everyone. "Maybe-maybe I'd better leave."

"Oh, no," Perry negated, taking Fox's arm and leaning close to him. "I won't have it. He'll be right proud of you before you ever leave this house or we'll both be on our way."

The gesture rather gave me a whole new jolt. I hadn't just said those things about the yank to Dad--I knew they were so. I'd never disliked Fox, but I did resent the hell out of him. And there I'd gone and defended him, so why did it make me seethe? I wanted to jerk Perry out of his chair and demand to know why the hell he'd just made me turf off Genevieve. If he could have his bit of fluff, I was damn well going to have mine. After the crap he'd said to me in the corridor at the hotel, I felt like I'd been kicked in the bollocks.

"No one's going anywhere," Mum stated firmly, "until after holiday. Listen, Fox, darling, Halley really thinks quite highly of you. He hasn't changed his mind about that. He's just got to get things sorted in his head, you know?"

"Whether or not you're just being polite," Fox replied, not looking at her, "I don't feel right about making him uncomfortable in his own home. And I'd rather not be uncomfortable here, either. If you'll excuse me, please." He got up. Perry immediately did likewise, pausing only to leave his linen on the table.

Worriedly, Mum looked after them.

Having lost my own appetite, I got up to clear the dishes for wash-up, since Mum was on her own.

"Well, I won't have it, either," she said, flustered. "It's bloody Christmas, for Christ's sake. I want Perry home. I'll have another word with Fox. If you help me talk Precious into staying, Fox'll be all the more likely to stay on."

"Funny how you didn't try talking me into going after Genevieve," I remarked. "Yet you're falling apart over Perry's bloke."

"Well, I..." she began." We-we haven't known her all that long. We don't know much about her. At any rate, you don't seem all that upset, yourself."

"I don't know--I might be having second thoughts about it." I entered the kitchen carrying what I could manage and not spill anything.

She came in a moment later with the rest of the dishes. "This is just lovely then, isn't it? Here it is, Christmas and everything's going down the pan. I didn't mean to be insensitive, darling. A moment ago, you agreed with your brother that she wasn't your type. On the other hand, if you feel that strongly about the girl, then you should go after her."

"I don't know, yet," I said. I knew Perry was being much more objective about Genevieve than I could hope to be.

"I-I'm just not sure if I can appeal to Fox, "Mum went on." The last time I tried to be diplomatic with him, it didn't go over very well. I think the poor lad is still confused about things, himself. And I sure don't know how to handle this sort of thing."

I didn't feel sorry for him. "That's their problem, isn't it? Why Perry chose a bloody septic to go barmy over," I muttered over the bin, scraping off the plates, "I'll never know."

Mum came to help me, stacking the plates and saucers for the sink. "If she didn't go off to visit rellies, I'd guess Genevieve went back home. Go on and give her a bell, why don't you?"


I didn't. I'd give Perry another chance to come 'round, and if he didn't, I'd ring one of my other bits of fluff or mates and give my brother a good, swift kick in the bollocks, in a well-deserved turn. I was in my room, debating all this when I heard his discussion with Fox in the corridor. I went to the door to listen. Fox said something about finding himself a room at a hotel and headed off down the stairs. Perry fled after him, struggling to persuade him otherwise.

Out at the top of the stairs, I heard Mum get in on it, pleading with Fox not to go then calling Dad.

He came 'round quick enough from the study, it sounded. "Leave him go, if that's what he's set on."

"No," Perry argued. "I won't have it. I'll sleep in Wyeth's room tonight if that's how it has to be then we'll sort things out tomorrow."

To keep quiet, I bit my forefinger.

"Oh, no you won't!" Dad raged before Fox could answer. "See here, lad. We can't have you running off to spend Christmas in a hotel or try and book flight back to Connecticut. None of that would be right or practical, but most of all, I know Perry and he'll go with you. I want my son home for Christmas. In light of all that, it would for the best if you stayed on."

"Sir," Fox began. "I-I perfectly understand your disapproval about the situation. I know, because my parents would feel exactly the same way. I-I'm sure you'd be a lot more comfortable if I--"

"Oh, no I wouldn't," Dad interrupted. "I'm afraid I may have spoken a little impulsively at lunch. I apologize."

"Th-thank you, sir. But knowing how you feel, I couldn't be comfortable, myself, unless I slept in another room. Say the sitting room or--"

"Don't be daft," Perry said. "There's a perfectly good full-size bed in my room. You sleep there. If anyone's sleeping elsewhere, it'll be me. Tonight, at any rate."

"I'm not about to put you out of your bed, either," Fox said.

"Don't worry." Perry's voice was sheer assurance. "My brother and I will be fine. We used to share a bed as kids."


PERRY

There was nothing I could do about the looks from my parents I got behind Fox's back. By doing my best to keep him about, I managed to fend off any desperate attempts they may make for other rooming arrangements.

We set about finishing off the holiday decorations with Fox's help instead of Cammie's that year. I rather liked the connotations. Everyone had expected she'd become part of the family and therefore, she'd been endowed the honor. Now Fox held it. He'd outlasted Cammie and with the way I felt about him, I hoped he'd continue to put up Christmas decorations at my family's home for years to come.

While we were at it, Mum abruptly announced that Wyeth had been having second thoughts about Genevieve. I began to feel rather ill as Mum and Dad clamored to convince Wyeth to go after her. It was almost bloody dj vu from last year with that grotty Green slapper.

To my temporary relief at least, Wyeth admitted he was still thinking on it. I needed a word alone with him. It was tricky, particularly since I was also struggling to keep Fox beside me. I have to admit there were times when I wanted to get silly and tease, cuddle, and snog him.

It wasn't just Genevieve I needed to discuss with Wyeth; I'd not had a chance to see how he felt about my change of courses at Oxford. I could only assume Mum and Dad had told him that much already. Furthermore, I meant to tell Wyeth I was going to formally turn down Granddad's offer after Christmas dinner. Though he probably already knew, if he and our uncles were keeping such close tabs on us, I still had to do a proper job and make it formal.

The ale we broke out loosened us up a bit. Unfortunately, it also got Mum and Dad to urge Wyeth all the harder to ring Genevieve. I knew their main concern wasn't actually about her, at all. When I could stand it no longer, I snuck a look at him and gestured. Then told Fox I was off to use the loo so he wouldn't come looking for me. Waiting in the corridor right after I slipped out, I heard Wyeth give in about ringing Genevieve.

Just outside the maid's bathroom at the rear of the house, we could finally talk, so long as we kept our voices low. "What's this rot about Genevieve?" I demanded.

"What's this rot about running off the rest of holiday with Fox?" Wyeth countered.

"He's not leaving. I gave Dad the ultimatum and he's letting Fox stay on. Only Fox knows Dad's got his knickers in a twist, so he thought it would be better if we'd not sleep in the same room tonight, anyway. I opted to spend the night with you. That's really why Mum and Dad are on you about Genevieve-- not 'cause they're so overwhelmed by her sparkling personality. Right now, they wouldn't give a damn if you brought a whore in, so long as it's an unrelated female. Now if you still want to go chase the slapper, that's your business. I'll be sleeping in the sitting room if you do, though."

"Ah, well that explains the lot of it."

"I thought you'd told 'em you'd split-up."

"I did. But I didn't care for the noises you were making about leaving, so I told Mum I was having second thoughts."

I looked away. For a moment. "Then you don't give a hang about Genevieve?"

"She's hardly competition, is she?"

"I've been meaning to ask what you've decided to tell Granddad at Christmas. It's been a year and I've made up my mind."

Wyeth raised his eyebrows slightly. "Oh, you have? So have I. We can tell him Christmas Day. It'll be a kick in the ass to Dad, but he deserves it, the way he's been acting."

Stunned, I studied Wyeth. "You're leaving Dad's firm, then."

"Well, yeah. You were planning on joining his firm, after all?"

"We'll talk about it later."


WYETH

What a bloody plonker I'd been, thinking my little brother would abandon me. His innocent, pretty looks made me forget sometimes what a shrewd schemer he could be, too. Crikey, he was going to make a brilliant barrister.

When I went back to the sitting room, Mum was on her way out to start dinner.

"What she say?" Mum asked loud enough for everyone to hear, her eyes aglow.

"Nothing. I didn't ring her, after all. I thought some more about it and changed my mind." Seeing Dad's expression turn wary all over again, I couldn't quite imagine what he'd do that night. Insist we leave my door open then play sentry in the corridor? He probably wouldn't be able to sleep for worrying about us. "So I rang another girl I know, instead," I lied. "I thought she might like to go out."

All day I'd noticed Fox had been acting subdued. Not unsociable, just low profile. On the other hand, he didn't hide, either. The general demeanor between him and my brother didn't change--they still acted as good mates, never as anything more than that. Except when I'd caught them sleeping in bed together, last Christmas. One would never think anything more went on between them. Well, unless one looked.

Over the rest of the day, Dad interrogated me about the new girl I'd allegedly rang. I knew plenty, so I didn't have to make anyone up--just the fact that I'd given her a bell. I chose one and told him what I knew about her. That seemed to please him well enough. Over dinner, Perry pretended to formally inquire of me if it was all right if he slept in my room that night. Hah. As if he had to. Right after Perry and Fox turned in I did the same, unwilling to stick around for a lecture.

I got one, in any event. Dad followed me into the foyer where he gave me a warning.

He could "or else" me all he wanted. I got ready for bed and waited for Perry who was in his room with Fox evidently saying good-night and taking his bloody time about it. The door was shut, but if I hovered by it, I could hear them talking quietly, though I couldn't make out a word. I wanted to bang loudly on the door to startle the hell out of them--particularly Fox. Only Dad would hear it and come racing upstairs. I went back to my room to wait.

Shortly after, he came 'round and chivvied Perry on for me in an indirect way. While I was watching telly, having a smoke to stay awake, there was a loud knock on my door then Dad poked his head in. "Your mother and I are going to bed, then. Where's Perry?"

"In his room with Fox, I believe."

"Oh. Has he changed his mind and decided to sleep in there, then?"

Feigning indifference, I shrugged. "I suppose so."

Some five minutes later, Perry came into my room in his dressing gown and pajamas, his tumult of curls near dry by then from a shower. He crawled into bed with me. "What you tell Dad?"

"That I supposed you must have decided to sleep with Fox, after all, since you sure weren't in here."

"What'd he do?"

"He didn't look any more or any less approving than he did already. You realize now he's convinced you're strictly gay."

"But, I'm not."

"He doesn't know that. He hasn't seen the way you shag the ladies. He says he don't believe you've ever had a proper girlfriend. That isn't quite accurate, though, is it?"

"I suppose I haven't."

"Don't be daft." I picked up the pack of fags to light another.

Perry got up on his elbows beside me. "Let's have one."

Without argument, I passed him one. He certainly needed it. I even lit it for him and put the ashtray on the bed between us. "At any rate, that's what he thinks. It should be enough that you'll be working for him, rather than Granddad, after graduation. Queer or otherwise."

"I'm not going to work for his firm, either," he said after his first drag. "See, I've done the gay thing; I'm now reading art."

I about dropped my cigarette. "You didn't!"

"I did."

Oddly, I couldn't decide whether to feel gutted or thrilled. I should have known all along that Perry would do what he needed and not what anyone else decreed. It was perfect. So summarily Peregrine. "Well, congratulations," I commented.

"Whatever for?"

"For pursuing what you were born to do and telling the rest of the world to toss off. I'm right proud of you."

"That's funny...Here, you're right proud of me and Dad probably regrets he and Mum ever got the loony notion to have a second child."

"At the moment it's more likely he wishes they'd ever had any; you know the crap he's put me through." I slid down to his level on the bed.

"We can't help what he thinks. I'm not about to go get myself a girlfriend just to give him peace of mind. I hope you're not quitting Dad's firm for spite."

"Nah." I tapped off some ashes. "I'm doing it for the money."

"I suppose," he nodded faintly.

"You don't sound so very excited for me."

"Well, aren't you doing exactly the opposite of what you just praised me for? Not selling out? Should I be pleased for you for doing that very thing?" He got to his side facing me, to reach the ashtray.

He was right. My principles began to filter back. Christ, I'd been away from my little brother too long. The decision had seemed to make so much sense the way Genevieve had stated it. "Look, if you're going to become a starving artist, one of us has to make money."

"Who says I'm going to starve?"

"It was just a figure of speech. Until you start making money, if I go to work for the family, you can always stay with me. I'll have a house and the finances to fall back on whenever you need. Look at Mum. Yeah, she earns a good wage and all, but remember the times between jobs when she had no income? Where would we have been if Dad's business couldn't support us?"

"What you need to go work with the snotty Elden-Becks, then? You'll get on fine if you stay with Dad's firm."

"I'm sure I could," I agreed. "On the other hand, I'd have that much more if I returned to the family proper."

"That's just not on for you. You've never been the materialistic sort." He paused. "You know, this is the same conversation I had with Fox back in January. Only he was going on about me. Oh, I know what it is, now." Perry lay back to study the ceiling. "You told Genevieve about it even though we agreed to keep it a secret. Then she talked you into joining the family firm."

"Yeah, well obviously you told Fox as much and he talked you into slighting your very own flesh and blood as well as your career."

He looked to me, amused. "I thought you were proud I was going to tell 'em to toss off."

Shrugging, I made use of the ashtray again. "I am, but it's still the truth. Dad must have done his nut when you told him you were switching studies."

"He did at first. He said it was a waste of all the hard work and good dosh we'd put in. Except Mum was so ecstatic for me, I think that got him to leave off."

"Ah, but I was so looking forward to working with you, luv."


FOX

A persistent knocking woke me. It was relatively quiet and on the door across the hall, so I tried to ignore it. Only it didn't stop. That woke me enough to wonder what was going on.

At last the door opened in response so once again I settled under the thick duvet on the plump down pillows to go back to sleep.

Faintly, I heard an argument. Not the words--just the tone. Oh, crap. I looked at the clock. It was after midnight.

Blinking at the ceiling, I considered. I'd probably be better off if I stayed out of it. No doubt Perry was further defending me and I wouldn't want to hear what was being said. Then again, his brother wouldn't be complaining about me. So why would their father go start an argument in Wyeth's room? It seemed rude that they would disturb his sleep by arguing in there.

Then I remembered the incident with his friend. Their father had probably concluded that because of that Perry had turned out to like guys. His father had probably got himself so worked up about the idea he couldn't wait until morning to reprimand his eldest son all over again.

From what I'd learned so far in my classes, my extracurricular research, and my own personal experience, I knew no one developed homosexual predilections out of trauma. Not that Perry had been remotely traumatized by the incident, judging by his very casual account. That meant that despite his young age, he'd welcomed it. And harbored the predilection already.

Unfortunately, I was the last person on the planet who should dare attempt to enlighten Mr. Elden-Beck on those facts. Even though I was the only one in the house with some actual qualifications. It wasn't for Wyeth that I was compelled to set the facts straight. He did deserve to have his ass kicked the rest of his life for having allowed his friend molest his little brother. It didn't matter that the guy hadn't hurt Perry--it was still molestation.

At the very least, I think Wyeth did regret it, considering the way he consistently overcompensated for Perry.

The argument went on until I couldn't stand it any more. For Perry's sake, I got up and put on my robe. We should both just get the hell out. I couldn't let his father put him through further abuse.

With determination, I headed across the hall to the door, which was open a crack and knocked. It opened a little wider from the restrained pressure I laid on it.

Instant silence.

"Perry?" I called. "Is everything okay?"

In a second, Perry drew the door open. "Everything's fine. My parents are just on their way back to bed."

Though I hadn't expected his mother to be there, she stood by the bed appearing agitated, wrapped in a plush velour robe. I'd never seen her with her hair uncombed before. Her presence reminded me that she was nothing like my mother who would have opted to sit out a reprimand like this. Instead, I imagined Anora had gone along dragging at her husband's arm to defend me and Perry.

Steeled for a disgusted glare from Mr. Elden-Beck, I was surprised when it didn't happen. Also in his robe, he glanced at me more in trifling annoyance than as the basis of his anger. "Wyeth, your mother and I would like a word with you in private."

"Dad," Perry stressed. "Keep treating us like children and you'll end up without any." With candor, he turned to face his parents as if I wasn't there. "I know--right now you're thinking that would suit you just fine. Then what say we just clear out?"

"Over my dead body!" Anora declared, rushing to stand defiantly in front of Perry, facing her husband. "You turf my boys off, Halley, and you may as well turf me off, too."

"Bloody hell," Mr. Elden-Beck mumbled, running a hand over his face. He stormed past his wife and youngest son.

On guard, I stepped back enough to let him pass, awaiting sentencing. That time he didn't even look at me, let alone say anything to me. Watching him head back to his room, I was confused. Even more so when Anora was suddenly trying to coax Perry to go to bed with me.

"That's okay," I quickly intervened. "The last thing I wanna do is piss Mr. Elden-Beck off any worse. Let's just leave things the way they are for now."


Lying alone in bed in the old house in the demon hour, I couldn't go back to sleep. Late at night, even minor problems become insurmountable nightmares. There was nothing to distract me. Television broadcasting had signed off for the day. All I could do was imagine what my best friend's father was thinking of me. I was a mixed up degenerate, badly in need of psychiatric counseling. I'd imposed my deviant desires on his son and seduced him into bed. Then I'd corrupted him into believing he actually enjoyed the perverted sex we shared. His father would always despise me, whether I walked out of Perry's life that night or we stayed together the rest of our lives because I'd tainted him forever.

While I listened to the creak of the radiant heater pipes, I contemplated how to deal with Mr. Elden-Beck's antipathy. It didn't matter that the others in the family had accepted me--it was his home, his sovereignty, so to speak. While he couldn't make me stop seeing Perry, he did have every right to bar me from his home. I'd never stay there again.

If I turned in my plane ticket, I'd have money for a hotel. What if there were no rooms available on such short notice? I'd have to call around and see. If there weren't any close enough, I'd have to fly back to Connecticut. I didn't want to leave Perry, but what else could I do? How was he supposed to get back and forth to the hotel to spend time with me, anyway? His mother, of course. She was an incredible person. Well, she had to have been to have produced Perry. She was bound to lend him the MGB. Or Wyeth might drive him. Even if his brother and I didn't get along, he did understand about me. He'd made that clearer than ever, earlier in the day. Sure, I knew it wasn't me he was defending, but the principle of Perry's right to choose whatever partner he wanted, gender having no bearing on the matter.

Maybe, though, I should just go home. I had the money for taxi fare. The problem was everyone in the house would hear what I'd chosen to do. It was doubtful anyone else could sleep, either. Except Wyeth, anyway. Perry would come down and try to stop me, and we'd upset his parents all over again.

Perhaps I should have gone to his parents to quietly reassure Mr. Elden-Beck that I'd be sleeping downstairs in the sitting room the rest of the night. That way at least everyone else could get some sleep. In the morning, I'd go to the airport for the first flight to New York City.

Just as I started to sit up, there was a knock on the door. I knew who it was--Mr. Elden-Beck. He'd decided he couldn't stand for me to stay another second under his roof after all and was about to throw me out. Before I could get out of bed, the door opened. Sure enough, it was him. He looked in. "Fox?"

"Yes, sir," I sighed quietly and turned on the lamp.

"Ah, there you are." He came in, leaving the door partially ajar for Anora who was behind him. Both were still in their dressing gowns unable to sleep as I'd guessed. "I've been thinking it over. I've decided I shouldn't have spoken of you as I did. I apologize."

Confused, I looked from him to Anora. She smiled encouragingly.

"If this...," Mr. Elden-Beck began, looking around the room, avoiding my gaze. He stopped at the corner of the bed and pretended to smooth down the front of his robe. "If this is how things are going to be between you and Perry, it isn't right to keep you in separate rooms."

"What?" I started.

"Well, you see, lad...Despite it all, my son is more important to me than any of that. I couldn't bear to see him hurt. It was never anything personal against you, you understand. Anora and I were fond of you from the start. What I'm saying is you'll always be welcome to visit as long as you want and stay in Perry's room with him."

Even though I'd kept my own gaze averted, that didn't diminish my shock. I didn't know what to say or do. I knew the British were much more polite than what I was used to, but I never would have expected Mr. Elden-Beck's words.

In the awkward pause, Mr. Elden-Beck recouped and continued. "As a matter of fact, I'll go get the boy right--"

He was interrupted when Perry entered, wrapped in his robe. "Needn't bother, Dad. I'm right here."

The End
 

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