A.N: As a disclaimer this story doesn't have any incest, it just takes the context of a family reunion.
My laptop fried a month ago so things are a bit complicated, but country boys make do. Here's a long slow-burney one shot to make up for my silence. Might write those characters more in the future because I got attached, We'll See.
Feedbacks are an author's lifeblood, blah blah, you know the drill.
***
My cousin Will was what my brother would call "a normal gay guy." He wasn't outspoken about his sexuality past some little arguments with my uncles on the topic of marriage equality and right to adoption from time to time, was not the most masculine guy in existence but was enough to get a surprised reaction from people when mentioning he was gay, and was pretty private about his relationships. An attitude my family found honorable and acceptable, not acknowledging he has never been the type to make waves in general. My aunt Suzie had always been a wild car and a bit of a black sheep, loud and proud in everything she's ever done, married too early for the sake of her accidental pregnancy, divorced young and never remarried, she'd bring a new boyfriend at every family meetings to the disapproval of everyone. She was often a source of mean gossip between my aunts and uncles. With the baggage of her explosive reputation, I could understand why Will would try to play it subtle when it came to our family.
Will was about a decade older than me so he would babysit me sometimes as a child, he was one of the rare cousins I still found bearable talking to. When I was around sixteen we'd sneak away in the garden during family meetings. He'd make me taste wine behind the gardening shed, he would ask how I was doing with girls and sometimes give me -very unhelpful- dating advice. He'd roll himself a joint and when I'd ask if I could smoke too, tell me there was a time for everything and I was too young for this yet, he'd get in enough troubles if my mother found out he made me drink alcohol. They were the only familial memories I was really fond off.
Considering his discrete nature, my whole family got shaken to the core when two years ago, out of nowhere, he married Poppy. None of us were invited to their wedding, he came around one holiday, Poppy, whom no one ever heard of before, clinging to his arm and told us, "this is my husband."
Poppy was not the type of guy you'd expect a guy like Will to be into. They were a funny yet charming sight to behold, Will with his rather average but toned build, always dressed smart casual, then Poppy next to him, skinny with endless legs, long honeyed hair softening an already pretty round face. Poppy was soft-spoken and delicate but he made his presence known, when he stepped into a room he would make heads turn and conversations stop. He was always the best dressed in the room when they were invited to holidays, his suits were beautiful and interesting looking, he wore them like a second skin, like high fashion was created for him. Before Poppy I didn't know a man could be so femininely handsome.
My family, tragically but expectedly from what I gathered earlier, didn't like Poppy at all. It may be because we shared the same roof, but I was under the impression my older brother Alex had the most scorn for him. He would often complain the day before a holiday meeting if Will and Poppy were coming. He had a lot of reasons to dislike Poppy and each time he would list them all: he didn't even go by his real name and the name he went by was stupid, he never cut his hair, he thought he was better than everyone with his fancy suits, he'd speak too femininely, he'd be too affectionate with Will and call him pet names making everyone uncomfortable, he wouldn't respect our uncles personal opinions, his cologne was too expensive and it was annoying. A long winded and badly coveted way to say the problem with Poppy was he was too much of a fag and reminded the family the uncomfortable fact Will was one as well.
Because I've always been contrarian regarding family matters, I liked Poppy a lot. He was an ethic professor at university level and it was a delight talking to him. I had a lot of respect for him, he didn't seem to care about anyone's opinion on him, for the exception of Will whom he seemed to adore. I was jealous of their dynamic as I've never seen before, two people so in love they'd look like they were on the verge of devouring each other of pure intense desire and adoration for their beloved. I never had that with any of my girlfriends and knew I'd probably never will.
My grandmother was hosting yet another one of her yearly summer family reunion in which the house was packed for a whole week. I was twenty-one, freshly out of college, single as can be, and was a bit bitter being pressured by my family into staying for that reunion. I had to decline a friend's invite to his beach house because if I missed this, I knew my mother would make me pay.
***
The events turned for the better learning for the first time for that week long reunion, Will and Poppy would be there. I had to admit I was always pretty excited to see them. They were hosted in aunt Suzie's (who couldn't have come as she was in vacation abroad with her new lover) old bedroom. I personally was in the room nearby, grandpa's now fairly unused office. I had the luxury of being allowed this lone room, with the only inconvenience of having to sleep on a air mattress on the floor. For long I used to sleep with Alex in mom's old bedroom but since I've been diagnosed with serious sleep issues in my teenage years, it had been decided I should have a room for myself.
I was already at the door, ready to help them carry their luggages when Will's car pulled up in the driveway.
"Isaac it's good to see you again," Poppy said as I was offering to carry the baggage he was taking off the trunk, "oh you're such a dear but don't worry about me, we didn't bring that much."
"God you took some shoulders, didn't you?" Will said in my direction.
"Finally found out this year the campus had a gym," I said with an embarrassed smile.
"Well it did you good, I'm sure you could carry Poppy with those puppies," Will kept on playfully.
"I'll be impressed when he'll be able to carry you," Poppy answered on the same tone. I just chuckled nervously in between their banters.
I was forced sitting next to Alex for dinner, which I was displeased about. As every first day of the big family meeting, the mood was pretty convivial and even if we all knew who hated whom and which old vendetta were going to bubble up, we all celebrated in our rejoining.
I went to bed early, the agitation of family embraces overwhelmed me a lot. I just settled back in grandpa's office with my laptop and caught up on some TV show I meant to watch for a while. I heard Will and Poppy get into their room three episodes later. I made nothing of it, with all the road they could only be falling head first on their pillow. I watched one last episode and decided to try to sleep.
Around 2 AM I went down the kitchen to see if there was any leftover roast. I saw Poppy from the back, wearing an oversized t-shirt revealing his shoulder on his supermodel frame, his hair tied in a loose ponytail, busy working on whatever on the counter.
"Hey," I said.
"Oh my God Isaac," he said turning over, he put a flour covered hand to his heart, "I almost got an attack babyboy, don't sneak on people like that."
"Sorry," I replied while getting myself a glass of water. It felt nice when he called me babyboy, it may have been an infantilizing nickname but it was most of all the sign Poppy liked me enough to give me a cute little pet name. I sat at the bar, Poppy worked back on the big piece of dough he was kneading.
"Would some delicious fresh bread convince your family to hate me less?" he asked.
"Well, I, uh, I mean I'm sure they'll appreciate the gesture," I said hesitantly. Poppy could make the most perfect bread ever done, they'd probably find a way to call it stale.
"I'm just kidding, the only way they'd hate me less is if I stopped fucking your cousin," he chuckled, "were you seriously trying to let me down softly on that one? I bet you're the type of guy who says you don't think you're right for her when you're breaking up with a girl."
I took a silent sip as it was verbatim what I told my last ex-girlfriend.
"I'm obviously not making bread for your folks, I'm not that self-flagellating," he said, "I've always felt anxious at night, bad insomnia y'know, and about five years ago I was forced to find a more constructive way to deal with it than drinking myself to sleep so, bread."
I was recalling how I actually never saw Poppy drinking to all the holidays he's been invited. Strangely I never truly noticed even though I knew Will to be a wine enthusiast and connoisseur. I would have never imagined.
"It keeps your hands busy, you get to blow off some steam on that dough and you get to create something," Poppy exposed while gesturing at the dough like he was presenting a masterpiece. I was sure it was about to be one.
"What are you making?" I asked.
"Uhm, right now I have my focaccia dough rising in the back and I'm working on a sweet soft bread," he answered while getting back on his kneading, "uhm, maybe I should have put raisins in this one..."
"Grandma really hates raisins," I warned him.
"Your grandma hates a lot of things," he chuckled, "it's not for them though, it's only for Will and I, and you."
