Evans wasn't feeling very good.
He wasn'tactuallyill or anything, but then again the illnesses which matter are seldom physical in nature.
The brown haired man let a long, deep sigh escape his lips as he leaned over the whitewashed railing on his porch. Heavy, muscled arms crossed over his chest, and leaning on the grainy finish of the aged wood.
Green eyes speckled with flecks of prussian, and glinting with traces of moisture: searching for something, possibly something which didn't exist in the material realm.
He was searching for meaning. Meaning in life that he'd lost, since —
No.He shook his head.Don't think about her.
You're not makinggetting over the break up any easier by thinking only about her, Chris.He thought.
While the thought of a person in his mid thirties facing the macabre realisation that perhaps his life had been a failed endeavour was not far uncommon. But, in the case of Chris Evans, he who played Captain America himself, the pride of the land of the Free, it wasn't so simple. It never was, was it?
The fickle reality was that the human mind was well adept at formulating arguments for self loathing.
To others, Chris Evans was the blonde haired hunk, rich beyond belief, with all the good looks of an (American) Greek God, and with a naughty, playful personality that made even the crabbiest granny titter in embarrassment.
To himself, damaged goods. An impotent, unmanly self centeredcreature, who'd driven his girlfriend of four years so far out that she broke their thriving relationship and left him in his sorry state.
I need to stop doing this to myself. Jenny didn't leave because I couldn't be a father.
She found someone she could be happier with. I couldn't be around for her. I was away all the time. But now she's happy. And her joy is all that matters. Even if it means that I won't be there to watch.
A single tear, slid down his flushed cheek. What hurt more than a broken love after all?
That familiar pain rose again, in the chest of the man. It was always there, perhaps hiding behind a heartbeat but subtly throbbing, a constant remembrance of the half of his soul which he'd given up willingly.
Chris let out another sigh, then turned around, back into the house.
A barely there entry vestibule spilled immediately into the formal living room. The dark brown wood floors flooding the ground, a pitched ceiling and a simple firebox set into a masonry wall, flanked by two nearly floor to ceiling windows that framed a sweeping canyon, mountain top and San Fernando Valley views.
He lay down on the black leather couch in front of the firebox.
The massive plasma screen mounted on the wall above it was playing some news channel, but Chris' attention was diverted elsewhere.
The brunet had always been the emotional type. He knew he was an HSP — a Highly Sensitive Person.
He'd never been ashamed of it. His emotions were like primary colors, bright and undiluted. When he felt, he experienced the whole spectrum, and never just an insulated thought. Was it unmanly? That macho man argument was as old as time by now.
Chris had always been that crybaby kid. He'd wept on the first day of kindergarten. He'd bawled at the first day of school. Everytime his parents sent him to summer camp, he'd cried. It didn't matter that it was just day camp, it never mattered that his siblings were with him, or that he was the elder one. He'd always cried.
It wasn't that he was a wimp. Chris had just... always been in touch with his more feminine side.
The phone beeped on the armchair near him. Reluctantly the blond-haired raised a hand to pick it up.
The notifications showed two missed calls and more than a few texts from a certain Swati.
Oh dear. I missed her calls. I'm never gonna hear the end of this. Sometimes I wonder if I employed her as my PS or did she adopt me as her employer.
Swati Kamath was, as Chris often called her— his mom away from home.
She was more than a decade younger than him, not even in her mid twenties, but that never stopped her from telling off Captain America when he'd been working out far too much or for skipping lunch.
Complaining under his breath, Chris called her.
The call tune rang for barely three seconds, before the call was picked up and a markedly annoyed female voice started buzzing from the other side.
Jeez!Chris exclaimed to himself.
"Hey darling! How you doin'?", Chris ventured with his 'seductive' voice, an eyebrow arched and a very sleazy smile on his half open lips.
This trick worked with every woman, Everytime, making them coo and simply melt into a hysterical mess— unless it was a woman named Swati of course.
"Darling my foot!" She snapped. "I thought you were dead. Have you seen how many times I tried calling you?"
"Phones have a texting app for a reason, idiot!", she remarked.
Normally, an employee would never dare utter such words to her boss, but Chris thought of Swati more like a sibling than anything else.
"What's wrong?", Chris asked, holding back a smile. Who thought being called names by friends wasn't endearing?
"I've asked you that a hundred times", came the reply.
"You've stopped eating, you won't sleep, you're ruining your health Chris!"
"You won't tell me, nor would you visit a therapist like it was advised... You're withdrawing into a shell. I can't bear to see you fall apart like this...", her tone cracked, he voice now soft and weary.
"You left me no choice.", She added, but a measure of hesitation immediately crept into her voice.
Chris heart skipped a beat out of fear.
"What did you do Swati?", He asked, all of his earlier humor wiped clean from his face.
"I'm going to meet Scott. We're coming there right now. He wants to talk with you."
"What did you tell him?", Chris asked, anger suddenly building in his voice.
"I told you not to! What did you tell him?", Chris repeated, his tone rising now.
"I told him what he deserves to know.", Swati replied, her voice was quiet, mixed with both- guilt and calm reasoning.
Chris cursed under his breath. Inhaling deeply he tried to steady himself.
"How much have you told him, Ms Kamath?, He asked in a level voice. Freaking out would get them nowhere. Besides, he needed to now how screwed he was on a scale of one to ten.
" I only told him about your mood swings but not about your— umm...problem."
"And neither about how Jenny was cheating on you, nor that she was pregnant with somebody else's child.", she continued, her voice turning sour by the end.
Chris could sense that Swati had bit back several scathing remarks about Jenny, simply out of respect for him. For all her shortcomings, her fierce loyalty more than made it up.
The brown-haired sighed, some relief returning to him.
I can still salvage this situation. It's good that I'll be the one telling him... Nobody knows how Scotty would react to the news about me and Jenny. For all I know he might do something stupid...Chris thought to himself.
"Hold on...I can see Scott! We'll be there soon, make sure you've washed your face and changed into some fresh undies, they're in your wardrobe. Did your laundry last time I was around." Swati ended the call before Chris could complain.
My mom away from home.He shook his head.
Awkwardly stretching a cricket in his neck, the actor gets up.
He walks to his bedroom a few doors across from the formal living area.
The master suite was complete with a full wall of nearly floor to ceiling windows that drink up the over-the-mountain-top views. The wall adjacent to was textured with waves, while the others a mild shade of cream.
His bed was one of those fancy four poster ones with light blue curtains which could be drawn all around, made of rosewood with a contemporary finish.
The opposite wall held his wardrobe and vanity. Both were a matching set, made of mahogany with a simple coating of dark lacquer. Plain but elegant.
Guess I should get changed.
Scott and Swati were sitting on the couch where Chris had been lying. The elder brother himself sat on an armchair turned around so he was facing the two.
Scott Evans with his brown hair and a healthy beard could actually pass for Chris' twin. They we're really similar, by nature, in interests, and a sometimes obnoxious sense of humor.
Swati sat pretty formally. Brown complexion, jet black hair and the poise of a queen. Back straight and staring at her crossed knees.
None of the trio seemed to be in a chatty mood. The silence pressed on until it became physically painful to let it continue.
"Scotty, I'm fine... You really didn't need to rush here like this and—"
"No Chris. Stop. Enough with these lies."
"Just look at you! Those pits under your bloodshot eyes and the pale skin... Why Chris just why?"
"Iamyour brother. Don't forget that we grew up together. Now are you gonna spill without these unnecessary dramatics?"
Chris really didn't know what to say to him. He looked at Swati hoping for some back up, but she refused to make eye contact, adamantly staring at her knees instead.
"Okay..alright", Chris sighed, accepting defeat.
"Jenny and I broke up."
"Go on. That's not all of it, is it?"
" Um..we were having differences lately. Arguments and such. I couldn't give her time due to busy schedules."
"That's still not all", the younger man concluded, crossing his arms over his chest.
Chris glances at Swati again with a dejected sigh. He just couldn't bring himself to reveal the whole story.
Swati stood up.
"Y'all please continue. I don't won't to intrude in your personal business. Besides, I have to meet with other agents to manage your scheduling work. Bye Chris. Bye Scott.", She left without as much as a glance.
"Chris. Why was she so angry? She knows what happened doesn't she?"
"Throughout the whole ride I asked her what was going on but she was obdurate. Said something like it was best I heard from you because she wouldn't be able to use decent language if she tried", Scott said, starting to get impatient at his brother's blank look.
"Scott, please promise you'll stay calm?", Chris ventured.
"I'm not promising anything. Just spit it out goddammit!", Scott replied irritated.
"No. I can't say anything unless you promise you won't freak out...please", Chris said, his eyes practically pleading.
"Alright...", Scott sighed. "I promise."
"Before all of this happened, a couple months before we broke up... I had a test... You see, I wanted to start planning for a child, so I had tests done..."
Scott looked into Chris' eyes, letting him know he was listening.
"The results said that I had a low sperm count and it was unlikely that I could become a father in this situation..."
A look of surprise flashed on the younger brunet's face, but it was quickly replaced with sadness.
"Oh. Big bro.. I'm..sorry to hear that.", Scott placed a hand on his brother's knee.
Chris sighed and got up to sit next to him on the couch.
"But..the worst part. Jenny was having an affair."
"What?!"
A completely incredulous look washed across the younger man's face.
"Yes... She said to me that she was pregnant, but it couldn't be my child. So I confronted her."
"She was meeting with an old friend called Dean. They met for lunch...went on a few dates..realised they liked each other..and.." Chris stopped midsentence, his eyes beginning to tear up.
"I never even suspected a thing...", the older man's voice cracked as he wiped a tear off his cheek.
"That whore cheated on you and knocked herself up!", Scott's handsome face turned red with rage.
"Scott please calm down."
"How can I big bro? She broke your heart! If she didn't love you, she should have just left. Before all of this! She had no right to take all this so far!", Scott's voice had risen so much, he was practically yelling.
A part of Chris broke when he saw his younger brother say that. It had felt like a dream before, something numbed from reality. And now, when Scott framed it in actual words, the gravity of it all struck him like a thunderbolt.
Chris just helplessly looked at Scott. He'd anticipated as much, but some part of him felt good that Scotty was taking his side.
His brother looked at his lost expression and felt his anger seep to his ankles.
Chris had that helpless 'puppy dog' expression which made Scott melt everytime.
Everytime the siblings had argued in their childhood be it over that last piece of cake, who got to ride the bike, who sat at the window seat on the bus, Chris just had to play this trump card and he'd win. Everytime.
Scott hero-worshipped his elder brother.
He couldn't bear to see him broken like that.
Instinctively, the younger man pulled the elder against his chest, a hand on the nape of Chris' neck, guiding his head to his shoulder, his other arm wrapping itself around his brother's broad back.
Chris reciprocated, enveloping Scott with his arms around his waist.
Just like the old times.Thought Scott.
Chris found his breathing grow unsteady. The warmth from his broad chest, the prickle of his brother's beard on his skin, made his are tingle. The familiar musk from the younger man pulling up bittersweet memories from their childhood. All the times, he'd pranked his kid brother, all those tickle fights, all the times they'd cuddled in his bunk because Scotty was afraid of the darkness.
All the times he'd loved his brother.
Chris instinctively pulled back to look into Scott's eyes. The same blue eyes, the same sky-like depths which hid the true darkness in their souls merged for a moment.
"It's been a long time hasn't it?" Chris asked softly, a hand caressing the younger brunet's face.
Scott melted into the hand, softly rubbing his bearded cheek into it.
"It has.", he slowly replied, with the tips of ears starting to turn red.
"You want to do it again?"
Scott didn't reply. Of course he did.
Putting both his hands on his brother's face he brought his lips on them.
Chris had been his first love.
Chris deepened the kiss, tapping into the lust he'd been sure he'd buried deep in his heart.
Chris loved Scott. Maybe not as a lover, but surely more than a brother. If his kid brother wanted him, he would gladly give himself up.
Tongue fighting for dominance, softly nibbling in his younger brother's lower lip.
He was his brother after all. Scott had first come out to him. He'd told him that he was in love with the older brunet. He said he was sorry.
Chris remembered how Scott had started crying when he said that. And now he remembered how Scott's lips had felt when Chris had kissed him without warning.
It felt the same now.
Was it gross? He'd stopped thinking about then, now as well, as their passion deepened and Chris asked for entry in his brother's mouth.
They were just brothers, too men related by blood who were close. That's it, the brothers thought, as the older man's tongue gained entrance into Scott's mouth. Exploring the forgotten but familiar territory, enjoying the tastes of his brother, the texture of his teeth, the pinkness of his supple lips.
Maybe they'd go to hell for this. But they were brothers.
Scott had matured enough to realise he could never have Chris the way he'd wanted, and that he's always love him, but at least they could enjoy this kind of company every once in a while.
They kissed longer and deeper, occasionally Scott taking over, going on until they finally stopped. Breaths wheezing and hearts racing.
Scott knew his brother needed him right now. And so he was here.