"What? What the fuck did she say?" Fred asked. Aaron had Fred's phone to his ear and his eyes had grown wide.
"Shit, Freddie," Aaron muttered. He pulled the phone away from his ear.
"What is it?" Fred hissed.
"She wanted to let you know... that she might have given your phone number to someone in her prayer group and they... might have shared it in their fucking church Facebook group," Aaron said. Fred stared at Aaron.
"Are you serious?" he asked quietly. Aaron nodded.
"Do you want me to delete the message?" Aaron asked. Fred stared down at his lap.
"Did she say anything else?" Fred asked. Aaron winced and hesitated, turning his eyes away from Fred.
"She... Freddie, I don't... I don't want to tell you," Aaron said just above a whisper. Fred balked.
"What the fuck did she say, Aaron? How the fuck did she sound? Did she even fucking apologize?!" Fred stood up, his voice rising as he did, he snatched his phone from Aaron's hand.
"Watch it," Aaron said as Fred's nails scratched down his wrist, leaving angry red welts in their wake. A little bead of blood bloomed in the middle of one of the welts.
"How did she sound?! What did she fucking say?!" Fred yelled. Aaron rubbed at his wrist and felt tears spring to his eyes, that he willed away.
"Don't yell at me Fred," Aaron said. "I don't want to say."
Fred's eyes blazed and shone at the same time. Aaron was torn between shoving him away and gathering him up into a hug.
"Why?" Fred demanded. Aaron sighed.
"She sounded..." Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I'll just fucking listen to it," Fred spat.
"No Freddie, don't! I don't think you should," Aaron said. Fred tossed his phone on the coffee table with a loud clatter and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.
"Please, just tell me what she said, how she sounded Aaron," Fred begged. Aaron sighed again his eyes focused on the floor. Fred dropped his hands and took a deep breath.
"I'm not going to tell you Fred and I don't think you should listen to it." Aaron finally brought his gaze up to Fred's. Anger blazed wildly in his eyes made starker by the sheen of tears.
"I-" his voice cracked. "I need a fucking minute," Fred said, snatching up his phone, and stomping back to the bedroom.
Aaron pulled in a shuddering breath and scraped both hands down his face. He looked down at his wrist. It wasn't so bad; the little bloom of blood was already clotted and not actively bleeding.
It hadn't been often that he was on the receiving side of Fred's anger. He had seen it plenty of times in their youth, watched Fred beat the shit out of more than one person for some seemingly grievous wrong committed.
It was quiet in the bedroom right now and Aaron wondered if he should go back there and check on him. But Fred had made it pretty clear that he needed to be alone. So, Aaron went back to his work laying patiently on the dining table.
He tried not to dwell on their fight, on how Fred had shouted at him, his nails scratching over his wrist and him not even caring. Aaron tried to just focus on his work.
Fred came down the hall about thirty minutes later, a limp gym bag in hand, clad in a pair of loose gym shorts and a T-shirt. His eyes were bloodshot and tired, but his face was still a pale stoic mask of anger, roiling just beneath the surface.
"I'm going to the gym," he said blandly. "I might stop by my place. I'll be back in a couple hours." Aaron's mind flashed to Russell, and he wondered if it would be a good idea for Fred to go home.
"Freddie," Aaron said as he approached the door. Fred turned, his hand on the doorknob. "Be careful OK? Call me if you... well... I'm here if you need me, Freddie." Fred's face softened just a little.
"OK," he muttered. He hesitated for a moment, then went to Aaron and kissed the top of his head.
"I love you." It was so quiet Aaron almost didn't hear him. Aaron gripped his shirt holding him in place. Fred brought his eyes to Aaron's.
"I love you, Freddie," he said clearly. Fred kissed his forehead and Aaron released his shirt. He could tell Fred was still mad, but wasn't sure if it was at him, at his mother, at the whole fucking situation. He was just angry.
Fred slipped out the door. Aaron sighed and again tried to direct his attention back to his work.
~~~~
Aaron worked for another hour before he couldn't keep his mind focused anymore. He turned his phone on and prepared for the flood of notifications. It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Most of the messages were from friends wanting confirmation of what they had heard. There was a message from his mom asking if he knew Madison was telling everyone about him and Fred. He supposed he should have given her a heads up.
He called his parents and talked to them a bit, updating them on what had been going on, but leaving out the fight he and Fred were currently in the middle of. After getting off the phone with them, he texted Mark about what was going on. Mark called him immediately and they chatted for a little while.
Mark didn't pry too much, but Aaron did tell him what the message from Fred's mother had said. Outside of letting Fred know she'd just given out his phone number like it didn't fucking matter, she had said she didn't have an interest in hearing from him anymore.
"What?" Mark asked when Aaron told him. Aaron sighed.
"She said she was going to give him until the end of the day to contact her and tell her he wasn't going to see me again. Not even as friends, how we used to be. She said she had no interest in having a fag for a son, and that he was welcome home once he put these quote sinful ways behind him," Aaron croaked. "Was I wrong? Should I have told him?" Aaron asked. Mark blew out a breath.
"Fuck man, I have no idea," Mark said. "Sorry, I know that's not helpful."
"I don't know. Maybe I should have told him. There was a deadline, I guess it was shitty of me to keep that to myself. But it was so cruel... I guess I could have lightened the blow, phrased it differently," Aaron said.
"I guess so. But would it have lightened the blow? It's still his mother telling him to stay out of her life. No matter how you phrase it, it's a... I mean you're right it's so cruel," Mark said.
"He should be back soon. I mean I hope so. He said he might stop at his apartment. I'm worried Russell might show up while he's home," Aaron said.
"Oh. Shit," Mark said.
"If he's still as angry as he was when he left, he might..." Aaron sighed deeply. "I mean you remember how he would get when we were kids. The fights." Mark made a noise of confirmation.
"He put that one kid in the hospital," Mark muttered. "He was so lucky his parents didn't press charges." Aaron groaned.
"Should I go look for him?" Aaron asked. Mark paused.
"No. I'd like to think he's grown up since he was seventeen." Again, Mark paused. "Want me to drive by his place, see if his car is there? See if Russell's car is there?"
It would only be a short drive. But as Aaron pondered, he heard the spare key he'd given Fred in the lock.
"Oh, I think he's back. I'll talk to you later Mark," Aaron said.
"Alright man, let me know if you guys need anything," Mark said. Aaron said he would and hung up as Fred came into the house. Aaron studied him as he came in.
Fred glanced at Aaron and his cheeks went a little pink. He looked better than when he left. His gym bag bulged, and he let it fall to the floor. His hair was damp, and he smelled like the gym's complimentary soap.
"Hey," he said timidly. Aaron put his phone on the table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. He cradled his chin in one hand.
"Hey," Aaron replied. Fred rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat.
"Can I sit with you?" he asked. Aaron gestured to the empty chair next to him. "Thanks," Fred muttered. He sat with a sigh, and his cheeks flushed a bit more as he dragged his eyes up to Aaron's.
"I listened to the message," Fred said. Aaron sighed.
"Oh Freddie," he began. But Fred held up his hand.
"You were right, I shouldn't have listened to it. But you should have told me. She gave me a deadline, a fucking ultimatum. You should have told me about that," Fred said.
Aaron dropped his eyes and folded both hands together on top of the table. Fred tentatively reached out a hand to grasp one of his. He turned it over and looked at the small faded pink welts, the little scab on Aaron's wrist.
"You should have told me, but this is not OK," he continued. Fred brought his eyes to Aaron's. "I never should have yelled at you like that and this," he ran a thumb over the welts. "It's unacceptable."