Bren stared for a moment, watching the first tear fall as rain began to tap against the window. April's tears coming faster and heavier seemingly in tandom with the storm.

  Shit.

  Shit, shit, shit!

  Stepping closer, they wrapped her in a hug, gently pulling her head down to settle on their shoulder as they rubbed her back. "Jace-"

  "Fucking off!" He assured as he scrambled out of the room. Leaving the two of them alone so Bren could focus on the trembling little dream in their arms.

  "Shhh...it's okay." They soothed, tilting their head to rest a bit on hers as they kept her close.

  Did they enjoy her crying? Fuck no.

  Did they really enjoy getting an excuse to hold her close enough to smell the scent of their borrowed shampoo still lingering in her hair from last night? Fuck yes. After just letting her cry for a minute, they spoke softly.

  "I can't stand seeing pretty people cry, you know." They teased lightly, keeping up the gentle strokes across her back. "You're breaking my heart, Red. I promise, it's just a stupid cup. Everything is gonna be cleaned up in no time like it never happened." Thinking for a moment, an amused little smile stole across their lips, putting the pieces together. One of their little brothers was the kind that could have his arm chopped off and tell you it was all fine, but if he was stressed and you were even a little nice to him...

  "Wait a minute...are you crying over me cleaning you up?" They hummed, feeling her stiffen a bit in their arms as they grinned. April was easy to read when she was caught off guard, and the poor girl had quickly become their favorite reading material. "Is that the secret to making those pretty emerald eyes tear up? I've just got to play nice? How about a few compliments? Maybe some sincere thank you's?" They teased softly, feeling her attempt to make herself smaller to hide.

  Not that they'd ever allow her to hide from them.

  "Over here crying your eyes out over a few assurances after you went to all the trouble of making my favorite breakfast. Even wrapped it in foil to steam up and make the bread all fluffy and shit." They cooed, kissing the top of her head without thinking. Feeling her bury her face further into their shoulder in response, grip tightening on their shirt. "All the fuss and bother of making the perfect Taylor Ham Roll for little old me. I'll bet you even remembered the SPK. Do you have any idea how nice it is to walk in here to the smell of fresh cooked pork roll and coffee after a late run? I had to drag that idiot the whole way through the course, you know. Lost his shoes and everything. Little punk's a tender-footed sort, so had to give him mine. Which meant I was barefoot while pulling him along and yanking him out of reach of alligators and whatever else they've got out there. Then I get us home safe and cleaned up only for the ungrateful little bastard to come racing in because it smells like morning in his ma's kitchen and scare you after all your hard work. Maybe I ought to just take him back out and throw him to the scorpions, hm? Or I could take him upstairs and have Wednesday sick her black widows on him. Always did fancy himself as a ladies man. I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Feeling her relax a bit, they fought a sigh of relief as they gave a gentle squeeze.

  "Then again, he might upset their stomachs. I swear he eats like shit. Pretty sure those takis he's obsessed with are low-level radioactive. Not so sure Wednesday would approve of me giving her spiders food poisoning. Can spiders even puke?" They mused, glad to hear the sobs subsiding to little sniffles as she calmed down, even earning a weak scoff of laughter as she slowly pulled away, wiping red eyes. "There's mía ojitos." They hummed, offering her a napkin that she readily took to blow her nose with. "Now, wanna tell me what was so bad it got you all in a twist?"

  "I'm sorry, I just- sometimes little things set me off and once I start crying it just, well, it's hard to stop." They nodded, not moving from their spot between her legs. Quite liking the closeness and the fact that she was letting them rest their hands on her waist.

  "Like a dam bursting. I get it, my little brother's the same way. Usually he gets all stressed over a bunch of different things and eventually something like a pencil lead that just keeps snapping or dropping something or just saying he's doing a good job will set off the water works." They informed, giving her a soft smile. "Wanna talk about what turned you into a pretty little puddle?"

  Her face turned a rather nice shade of pinkish-red before she spoke, not quite meeting their gaze. "The, um, the coffee spilled."

  "Mhm, I noticed. Normally you'd just calmly declare we could make more."

  "It...it was the last of your favorite coffee. More should be delivered soon, but that was the last until then. I hid it yesterday morning to ensure you'd have it to enjoy today. Then I went and wasted it." The quiet admittance made their heart ache in the most wonderful way.

  "Well now I just want to toss Jace to the alligators or crocodiles or whatever is in that swamp even more." They hummed, seeing a flicker of a smile on her perfect lips. "Ruining something so nice you had done for me. You're always doing nice things like that for all of us, you know. Without nearly enough credit. You somehow know exactly when I'm feeling a bit homesick and like magic I have my favorite hometown breakfast those mornings. Even with the coffee being spilled, I appreciate the intention you had." A big grin lifted their lips. "You want to know something that makes this whole thing pretty damn funny?" At her confused nod, their grin tilted to a wicked smirk. "I stole that mug from Jace after he pissed me off, once. So technically you broke Jace's favorite mug, not mine."

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Seeing her jaw drop had them cackling to the point of leaning forward to rest their head on her shoulder once they were a bit breathless. Nearly swooning at hearing her responding laughter in their ear. When her arms came around their shoulders and tightened a bit, bringing them ever closer, their knees felt weak. Automatically, they slipped their arms around her waist to tether themself to the only thing that really mattered. Enjoying the shared moment of mirth. Loving that they were the one to make her laugh, even to make her cry as twisted as the thought was. She cried over them! Over the thought of them being upset! Over the thought of them caring!

  Sure it was probably a lot of other things and that was just the final straw, but she had cried for them!

  Slowly the laughter had faded to giggles, then steadily into a comfortable silence. Neither moving and breaking the little bubble of contentment they had found. The drumming of the rain against the windows a soothing backdrop to the quiet moment as they just soaked in the warmth of each other's embrace. Bren let out a silent sigh, holding her a bit tighter as the slightest tinge of jealousy ran through them.

  "He doesn't deserve your cooking." They murmured, realizing they might have to share the special thing she did only for them. "Maybe that can be his penance. No Taylor Ham Roll for him."

  "You said he got excited because it smelled like his mama's kitchen, though." She pointed out softly, her accent thick and lovely with it's honeyed sweetness. "Maybe he's feel'n a little homesick, too. Besides, he didn't mean to scare me and he did apologize."

  They gave a performative groan. "I swear, you use that accent and every spine in existence turns to mush wanting to please you." The accusation held a note of mirth, though they felt the truth of that statement in every fiber of their being. "Fine, we'll allow the heathen to have his treat. So long as you know that he's like a stray dog. If you feed him he'll just keep coming back." Her soft laugh was like music in their ears.

  Reluctantly, they pulled back. Not quite breaking the embrace, but wanting to see her. Wanting to assure themself that she really was okay again. Green eyes met theirs and time stilled. After a long moment, Bren swallowed hard, heart pounding as they went to speak. Feeling like it may just burst out of their chest if they didn't confess to the chains binding them to her. Ones she didn't even realize she held in those perfectly manicured hands.

  "April, I..." Lost in the witch fire of her eyes, they struggled to think of the right words. She deserved poetry. Sonnets and songs and all the rest of the romantic drivel they had never bothered with before. She deserved a romantic confession like the kind she read about in her books. Unfortunately, they weren't a poet, nor were they a songwriter. They could spend eternity thinking of the right words but they didn't have the luxury. They knew they only had a few fragile, fleeting moments before they lost their nerve.

  "Yes, Bren?" She asked, voice so sweet and gentle that it nearly made them just bury themself in her arms again. They were so close they could feel her breath just barely skitter across their cheek.

  "I-" Both of them startled as the kitchen door loudly creaked open, turning to see a sheepish Jace peeking around it.

  It was official. Bren was going to commit murder.

  Bloody. Torturous. Murder.

  "I'm sorry, it got quiet and I thought I heard the crying stop." Jace offered nervously as Bren glared, tightening their hold on April slightly. "I really am sorry, April! I didn't mean to scare you. I just got excited because, well, Jersey's a long way from here and I haven't gone home in a while and it just smelled so good and-"

  "It's fine, Jace." April inturrupted gently. "I know you didn't mean it. Im okay." She assured with that soft smile that made Bren turn to putty. Apparently it worked on Jace, as well, since he started smiling like an idiot.

  "I'll finish cleaning up the mug!" He offered happily, rushing over to finish the cleanup job he'd started, apparently blissfully unaware of the ongoing planning for his brutal demise.

  "Once it's cleaned up feel free to grab one of the sandwiches on the counter." Jace's face lit up at her offer, looking like he was going to explode from joy.

  Bren could only dream.

  "Really?! I can? You sure? There's only two, I don't wanna take yours."

  "I made them for you and Bren." She assured, Bren briefly losing concentration on their bloodlust as her hand gently skimmed down their arm, goosebumps following in the wake of the pointed tips of her nails. In the time Bren took to figure out how to breathe again, Jace had finished the cleanup and bounded over to the table. Holding an aluminum package in each hand with the giddiness of a child on Christmas morning.

  "Bren, here's yours!" He declared, passing off one of the miraculously still-warm packets before dragging out a chair with a screech to plop down in with all the grace of a drunken elephant. Within seconds, he had ripped open the foil and taken a huge bite.

  Bren watched, heart softening slightly at the slight sheen that came into Jace's eyes. "Tastes like home, doesn't it?" They asked softly, knowing the feeling. Jace nodded, taking a moment to swallow before looking up at April with a more vulnerable smile.

  "Tastes like the mornings before our track meets." He insisted. "Bren's parents had so many kids to juggle, so when we'd have an early morning call for the buses he'd spend the night at mine. My mom always fixed us Taylor Ham Rolls those mornings." He reminisced, looking fondly down at the sandwich. "I'd stumble in half asleep while Bren would already be helping clean up the kitchen. They've always gotten up early to help with getting their siblings ready. Those mornings were basically sleeping in for them. Ma would have Elvis blasting from this ancient CD player and the two of them would be singing along with the smell of fried ham in the air. Only time Bren ever seemed to sing, actually. Didn't realize how much I missed hearing them singing those awful songs at ungodly hours."

  Bren looked down at the packet in their hand, swallowing hard to dislodge the fond memories. That had all ended after they came out. They hadn't had a chance to speak to Ms. Littman before their little falling out with Jace. They'd thought about reaching out, but, it was easier not to know if she'd be disgusted by them, now. It would have hurt to hear her say what their parents had-

  "She misses you, ya know." Bren's gaze snapped up to meet ernest eyes in a similar shade to their own. Eyes Ms. Littman insisted made her forget they weren't siblings despite how different the two of them looked in every other way. Even went so far as acting offended when people didn't automatically assume Bren was hers. "Says she misses having her babies under the same roof again. Elvis just isn't the same without you, apparently I don't have the pipes to be her duet partner."

  Her babies. Not her boys. Her babies.

  "I know you might already have plans, but...I know she'd love it if I brought you home as a surprise Christmas present over the break." Jace ventured hesitantly.

  Bren simply leaned into the gentle brush of fingertips against their cheeks, not having noticed the tears that had started falling. "She...she knows?" They asked quietly, needing to be sure, as April's other hand rubbed soothingly up and down their arm.

  "She knows, Bren. Told me she couldn't give a rat's ass if you were a boy, a girl, neither, both, or anything else. Said you're her baby and that's all that mattered." Bren gave a weak, watery chuckle.

  "Guess I've gotta brush up on my Elvis songs, huh?"