I heart Trey. Everyone think he's an ass for getting prettyboy Ryan intro trouble, but I... feel sorry for him. Gah, not good at adults, strangely enough. Rated PG. Trey-centered. One shot. Enjoy.
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Trey loved his brother.
Well, not in a gay way, of course. Holy fuck, no. And not in the TV-soap way either, where people went around hugging eachother and wailing "Oooh, I looove yooou" every fourth minute or so. And definately not in the way you told some chick three and half minute before you fucked her. But he did love him. 'Cos you didn't really have a choice when it came to that. Loving your brother.
Okay, so maybe he wasn't exactly the best brother in the world. Maybe he'd done some pretty uncool things to the little smartass, like the time he was ten and Ryan four, and he'd tricked him to poke the neighbours' sleeping rottweiler in the eye. That had been kind of, well, uncool. Or all the times he'd ratted his bro' out or made him take the blame for some shit. Or the absolute price winner: Eventually getting the kid locked up for not stealing a car. Which had been the fuckers own fault, by the way. Little bitch.
And maybe he could have protected the kid more.
But when you were thirteen, there was simply nothing as uncool as having a snotty seven year old following you everywhere you went. And when you were fourteen and trying to blend in with the right crowd, eight years old should simply not be there. He wasn't the fucking babysitter.
And when you were fifteen, and everything was falling apart, you really hadn't got the time to tell your brother that it was gonna be all right soon. Mostly 'cos you knew it wasn't.
So, maybe he could have taken the kid with him when his stupid slut of a mother kicked him out. But he'd been eighteen. Not really that excited about raising a twelve year old all by himself. Wasn't really his job. And he'd had business to do.
All right, so Gattas was kind of a psycho. But so were his goons, and when the choices narrowed down to two, either getting slowly beaten to death or making your Cinderella-wannabe brother pay back a favor, well, then there wasn't really much to do.
But he did feel like an ass for about two seconds when he saw Ryan's shiner. But then again, that was what he could've expected from a crazy fucker like Gattas. Car delivered, debt paid, clean-as-snow brother clearly pissed off. He sounded like some fucking saint. Like he'd never needed help.
Maybe he'd forgotten about the time when he was fifteen and inches from getting his head smashed with a tire-iron, and Trey had made damn sure the assaulter would never, ever get near his brother again. Maybe such minor details didn't matter in Newport Beach, fucking Heaven on earth.
And he knew he had to say something to the little smartass. So he'd said goodbye. Have a nice life. Make sure you don't get filth on your pretty hands. 'Cos now he was twenty two and the kid was suddenly older than him, and he had to say goodbye.
'Cos he did love him. In some sort of way.