Chapter 9

"THOMAS DAMIEN VARGAS!"

The shrill yell was from a woman. An angry woman; Annabelle Valentin. She was dressed in an elegant black evening gown, and she seemed almost regal with the way she stood. Her elbow-long gloves glittered, adorned with white, shimmering jewels, and a beautiful necklace decorated her slender neck. Her make-up was perfect with every touch, accenting her pretty face, but no amount of mascara or blush can hide the scorn etched on her face. It contorted the supposed-to-be image of a princess of hers. "GET DOWN, RIGHT NOW."

Her eyes were trained, and as focused as the aim of a sniper, on those stairs, and oh, did those stairs so badly want to get out of her line of sight.

Meanwhile, up the stairs in a locked room, Thomas muttered, "Bitch," annoyed that her voice managed to get through his headphones this time.

He pulled them down around his neck, and Holiday by Lil Nas X was playing softly in the background. Getting up from his desk chair and laptop, he huffed and unlocked his door, walking to the top of the stairs, where she could see him from below.

"We're going out to an important occasion, we'd love to have you too, but I don't think anyone's in the mood for another humiliation,"

Bitch.

"Also, get your brother out. His tutor will be here soon."

In this house, 'tutor' meant therapist and babysitter.

"We might be back a bit after 11. Order some food for dinner, the Nanny won't be here for a while." Mr Valentín said as he strode into the room, placing a bundle of cash on the glass coffee table, then he sent his focus to perfecting the smoothness of his black suit.

They both made Tom sick, but there wasn't much to throw up at the moment.

"Now come on down and bid us goodbye," Annabelle smiled, waiting, but Tom didn't move from his spot at the top of the stairs.

"Can't I just do that from here?" Getting any closer will give me a migraine, he wanted to say, but he knew better.

"Do what she says, boy."

Tom descended the stairs, wanting to get the moment over with already. When he stood directly in front of his aunt, taller because of his 6'4 height, he beamed his best and waved instead of shoving their rotten bodies out the door.

"Goodbye, Auntie and Uncle."

"That's my boy," She responded with her own contrived beam, patting his cheek and then taking her purse. "Goodbye, Damien."

It's Tom, and I'm not your boy. God, his tongue wanted to explode.

Uncle Charles didn't bother to say goodbye.

As soon as they stepped out, Tom locked the door with a sigh and headed upstairs, to his brother's room.

After a soft knock, he gently opened the door. "Caleb?"

"Tommie! Are they gone?" he jumped out of his bed and into Tom's arms. The room was dark, littered with Lego pieces and smelled comforting to Tom. Kind of like baby powder.

"Yeah, they're gone. Another night,"

"When's Jerry gon' be 'ere?" He asked, laying his head on his big brother's shoulder.

His mind slowed at the mention of the boy's name, "Uh, soon, I think."

"I want quicker than soon," The 5 year old whined with his horrible grammar. He'd really come to rely on Jerry a lot, more than Tom had suspected, which he wasn't sure was a good thing or not.

Tom chuckled, patting the younger one's big, curly mess of hair, he was about to suggest playing with the Legos when the doorbell chimed.

Caleb's eyes lit up so quickly, Tom was jealous. Though, he wasn't sure who he was jealous of.

"That quick enough for you?" he lightly tickled the boy in his arms, then they went down the stairs in much of a rush.

When they opened the door, they were greeted their beautiful treasure; the therapist /babysitter.

"Jerry!" He wriggled out of Tom's arms to the ground, and hugged the other, though it was more like he hugged this legs.

"Caleb, Tom. Nice evening isn't it," he giggled energetically, shaking his head fervently from side to side so little droplets of water fell on all of them.

Tom had taken this note of Jerry's adoration of rain a long time ago. Whenever it drizzled, or maybe there was a light shower, his mood was unwaveringly up.

If it was a storm, then you'd probably find him giggling dreamily, completely covered in a thick blanket, his heart doing backflips every time thunder rumbles violently.

Actually, the storm part was something wholly from Tom's head. He hadn't actually seen what Jerry did during storms, but his mind had just conjured up the image and it stuck.

And that wasn't his only fantasy involving Jerry.

"Jerry, you're wet!"

"I know! Let's go inside, you don't want to catch a cold, baby." He lifted up the little guy and moved past Tom into the house.

As he closed the door behind him and followed them, all he thought of was running into the cold just so Jerry could say those same words again. And again. And again -

"Tom!"

"Hm?" He snapped out of his daze. Caleb was off to bring out his precious Legos to play with.

"Why'd you just zone out like that?" He sat in the sofa next to him, playing with the fringes of his scarf as the tips of his chestnut-colored hair touched his eyelashes and did something weird to Tom's insides.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just a bit jealous," Tom was never one to be covert with his feelings. Though, staying with his aunt and uncle had lessened it, he was still Tom.

"He's your brother, you pathetic cat." Jerry laughed, feeling big suddenly. "I can't take him away."

"Oh, no, I'm not jealous of you, little J." He smirked his signature smirk, which he liked to blame for being a lady-magnet. In this case, a Jerry-magnet, he chuckled lightly at the thought.

Meanwhile the other boy turned tomato-red at the realization of the hidden meaning laced in the words. But, as usual, he attempted to hide it. "Great. You just ruined my mood, and with just words from your mouth. Speak more and I'm leaving,"

Tom grinned, "Don't worry, there are other things I could do with my mouth besides speaking. Sure to cheer you up."

Suddenly in little Jerry's eyes, Tom was just too close. Was it just him, or did time slow down? Why could he feel his heartbeats in his throat? And his poor guts had become the world's wildest roller-coaster; twists and turns that he couldn't count or recognize, loops, knots... Oh God...

"Ugh, I can't stand you." He pushed Tom's smirking face away with his palm, rolling his eyes.

"Little mouse, you won't be able to stand at all when I'm done with you..." The negro muttered, not really meaning for the other to hear, but he did anyway.

Jerry gasped, "Y-you digusing feline,"

"You adorable rodent,"

"Legos!"

Jerry was off the couch after that, but not before punching Tom in the shoulder and pointing an accusing forefinger at him with, "I like my innocence. "

Tom snorted, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. Once the little mouse was out of earshot, sitting with Caleb on the carpet with the thousand Lego pieces, he muttered, "Couldn't be innocent if it makes me hard. "

Stop thinking dirty, Tom.

"Hey, uh, I'm going to go up," Tom said, remembering he still had work to do, he headed for the stairs after grabbing a Hennessey from the refrigerator.