SHAME ON THE BUNNY 11

 Part 1 of The Lies We Told Each Other

Fandoms:
Top Gun (Movies), Thunderheart (1992)

Relationships:
Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Sarah Kazansky/Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Sarah Kazansky/Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Walter Crow Horse/Ray Levoi

Characters:
Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Carole Bradshaw, Sarah Kazansky, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Ron "Slider" Kerner, Ray Levoi, Walter Crow Horse, Grandpa Samuel Reaches, Original Child Character(s)

Additional Tags:
Trans Male Character, Unplanned Pregnancy, Secret Relationship, Polyamory, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky Lives

Summary:
Pete has no idea, but he figures that living in a world that teaches there is one right kind of family will do that to most. It didn't happen to him: his parents are dead, period. He was nine years old the day his mother didn't get out of bed anymore, and he was on his own until he found Nick and Carole.
For as long as he can remember, he was a pariah. It's the only life he's ever known. He accepted that he would never be like the people on TV, in movies, and in novels. Mav built his life without expecting to abide by any of those rules. But he's not like most people.
To be honest, they still live in a closet.
Tom married Sarah. Pete married Carole. Each marriage has two children. They even bought a house with a white wooden fence.
Their own offspring do not suspect that they are not at all conventional. They have invested nine years of their lives in building the facade of perfect normalcy.

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Chapter 11: 1999

Thursday, April 1

"Jake, it's bedtime, son," Pete says from the bedroom doorway.

As I imagined, the boy is lying in the center of the room, surrounded by the presents he received this afternoon at his birthday party at school and, later, home.

"I'm not sleepy, Mavdad," he assures and yawns.

The man nods, finishes entering, closes the door, bends down next to the boy, and offers his hand to help him.

"I realize it, but if you don't go to bed now, you won't be able to get up early tomorrow, and you'll be late for school."

Jake studies the hand in front of him with a frown —like Ice weighing something— and finally nods.

"You're right, but I'm already a big boy," -he gets up by himself-. "I'm eight years old!"

"That's right, how fast time has gone. Are we going to put these gifts in the magic sack?"

Jake nods, and they put everything in a blue, star-patterned cloth bag in the bedroom. The bag has an inner copper lining to block any radio transmission. There is now a similar one in every room in the house: Brad, Jake, Sam, and Sean were told that it is for new things to "adapt" to the house. It is to smoothly take them to scan and ensure no spyware. Since Mav and Ice are working on classified projects, the security measures at the house have become much more stringent.

When they finish packing up, Pete takes the boy's pajamas off, helps him change, and tucks him into bed.

"Do you want me to read you a story?"

"No. Tell me the story of when I was born."

The man suppresses the desire to bang his head against the wall and forces himself to smile.

"You've heard that story many times."

"But it's a good story. Also, today is my birthday. It's the best day ever."

Pete doesn't comment that Jake always uses a different excuse to ask for that story: they talked about families at school, or there was a character without a mom on TV… at least today's tale is solid.

The problem is, they have no idea how to contain this: Jake's insistence that they tell him the only two stories Pete has ever shared about Rachel indicates that he isn't satisfied. At least he thinks Tom and Sarah didn't know her, so his investigation focuses only on him. He pesters his father with off-the-cuff questions, trying to catch him off guard and get some new detail about his biological mother.

If it wasn't so dangerous, Mav would find it cute – Jake's persistence is an Ice trait. Even his clumsy attempts at ambushes are strategies in the style of his carrier. Mav has always preferred direct confrontation. Not only is it dangerous because he fears that one of these days Jake will dare to ask about Rachel in public, but also because of its effect on Ice.

His husband stopped coming into Jake's room a month after they gave him Rachel's photo. The image is in the center of his nightstand, next to a portrait of Pete and his irrevocable love contract with Carole and Brad. He put it so it is visible from the door and is generally impossible to ignore. Seeing that ghost every night was too much for Ice.

After Carole's death, Jake's questions about his mother increased, and Ice began having nightmares. They were always more or less the same: Colonel Levoi or his mother would meet him at different times in his life and reveal his former identity. Getting him out of the closet had different outcomes: he died, he went to jail, Pete and Sarah made him leave the house and forbade him to see his children, he was committed to a mental institution, they forced him to marry his high school sweetheart... The only good thing about Tom being in Maryland working at the Nimitz Warfare Analysis Center since last August is that he doesn't have to suffer through this. Jake is too excited to think about Rachel when he comes to visit.

The kind of tragic paradox that it is better not to dwell on.

Pete sighs and nods. Jake sits in bed to keep from falling asleep while his dad tells the story.

"I was sitting next to her. It was breakfast time. She felt the first contraction and squeezed my hand. I said, "There's another addition to the tribe about to arrive," she smiled through the pain. It was a long labor, almost ten hours. She told me many ugly things while we were waiting for you, that she didn't love me, that she shouldn't have gotten pregnant, that we would never see each other again. You have to understand, Jake, when we're in a lot of pain, we say things we don't believe that we would never say otherwise."

He looks him in the eye and waits silently until his son nods. He always insists on that part because he wants to give him a version that is as close to the truth as possible, but also that he understands that the world is not simple. When he finally learns of the difficult circumstances of his conception, he hopes that Jake can appreciate these pearls of honesty in the sea of lies in which they live.

"And why do we say cruel and false things when we suffer?"

"Because we want to share the pain," Jake says.

"That's right, but you were always a loved baby. It doesn't matter what she said during those hours. It doesn't matter what happened afterward, either. We always loved you. After ten hours, we were in the bathtub, and the doctor said she could start pushing. They taught me how to assist the birth so that I could be the person to help you out into the world. I was suddenly scared when I took your little head in my hands. It occurred to me that I wouldn't be able to, that I would do something wrong, and we would lose you even before we had you. She said, "Mitchell, if you fail me now, I will rip every hair out of your head."

Jake covers his mouth with both hands to hide his laughter. He always laughs at this part of the story. Of course, it's edited. Ice's threat was more along the lines of "Mitchell, if you don't get your spawn out of my pussy I'll rip your head off." Even if Jake knew who birth him, that had to be adjusted by the PG standard.

"As I wanted to see you, and I like the hairs on my head, I pulled you, and you came out swimming. You have always been a very curious child and wanted to see the world. You just needed a little help from your dad. I put you on her chest, and the stream of expletives stopped. You moved your head a little, let out a weak groan, and opened your eyes. She cradled you gently, looked at me, and said, "It's…," I nodded, "Yes, it's perfect." And that's the story of how you were born on a cold spring afternoon on the South Dakota plains. Now to sleep!"

But Jake doesn't move, instead looking intently at his father, nervously grasping the edge of the sheet and biting his lip.

"Mavdad, it's been more than a year since Mom died."

Pete looks at him, confused.

"Yeah."

"I was thinking, with até Ice working in that place far away…"

"In Maryland," Mav says.

"Yes, Maryland," Jake repeats. "I have heard iná Sarah say that she is tired, is it because we give you a lot of work?"

"No honey, she is tired because she was promoted at work. Iná Sarah is a tenured professor at the University of San Diego. You are not a problem," he assures him.

"But since Mom died and Icepop left, it's just the two of you," Jake insists, "and Sean's still very small." He wrinkles his nose in disgust.

"Icepop didn't leave," Mav hastens to correct. "The Navy sent Icepop to the Naval Intelligence Office because he is very smart. He's on a mission, just like I was on the carriers."

"But he's not here," Jake insists. "So, I was thinking, before Mom died, our family had four grown-up people to take care of us, now you are only two, and that's why iná and you feel so tired. We need a new Mom."

"Jake…"

But the boy does not stop.

"We need a new mother, Mavdad. You have to get married again, and I have the perfect candidate."

Pete purses his lips in bitterness and frustration. He cannot tell his child he is already married. Pete has a husband and a wife. There is no more space in his heart. That it doesn't matter that he and Sarah have to hold the fort for a while, Ice's career is worth it. He must play the game.

"Okay," he nods but doesn't hide the skepticism on his face and voice. "Who is the perfect candidate?"

"Rachel."

"Rachel?" he repeats, stunned. He must have heard wrong.

"Sure, Rachel. You already know her, and she loves me. Just like you knew Mom and you loved Brad, and you got married. Mom went to heaven with Brad's dad, didn't she? So now Rachel can come back and marry you. She will be our mother and help iná and you with everything."

Jake watches his father's face go solemn and gray, but he doesn't let himself be intimidated.

"When Icepop visits, she can make him that rich soup he likes. Mom made that soup very well, but you don't get it. I'm sure Icepop will smile again. Even better, when Icepop's mission is over, and he returns home, you will be four again, and we will be happy, like when Sam and I were little.”

Pete just hugs him, and the tears the little boy held back while presenting his plan finally burst.

"That's a good idea, right?" -he says between sobs- "I want us to be a complete family again. Have Rachel come, please. It's my turn to have a mother. Please, Mavdad. Brad had Mom. Sam and Sean have iná. I want a mother."

"It can't be Jake. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but it can't be. Rachel had to go."

"Make Icepop look for her. Icepop will do whatever you ask and always does what he sets his mind. When he finds her, he can tell her I'm a good boy. She didn't have to leave me behind."

Pete bites his lip in rage because his son has no idea how close he is to the truth. Yes, Ice could bring Rachel back, but at what cost? Even if they didn't destroy their careers, he doesn't think Ice would last more than a month playing Rachel before killing himself. No. Jake has no idea what he's asking for. So there's nothing he can do but hold the child as he babbles increasingly desperate offers to try and bargain with forces beyond his comprehension.

"I promise to take care of Sean without complaining. I promise not to ask for expensive gifts. I promise to eat vegetables and not ask for dessert. I promise to be nice at school. I also want a mom. Have my mom come."

"Jake, Sarah is your mom, Carole was your mom."

"No! I want the mom who had me in her tummy. I want to be just like my siblings, please."

"Jake, son, there are things I can't give you, even if I want to. One day, when you're older, you'll understand why Rachel can't be here."

"Because she didn't have time for me."

"No! No, love. I have told you that we have always loved you. We were so, so happy. You can't imagine what it took from her to leave you, but she had to. You have to trust me, Jake. Rachel knows you are a good boy, the best son in the world. Rachel loves you. Yeah? Now go to sleep. Sleep Jake, čhiŋkší of my heart."

Ultimately, Jake falls asleep not because he believes his father but because he is exhausted from crying. Mav tucks him in and stays by his bed for a long time.

He can't go crying to Sarah.

Of course, he will have to talk to her about it, but he wants to calm down first.

Pete leaves his son's room but doesn't go to his own bedroom but down to the kitchen to make himself some tea. It's a familiar routine. It will give him some calm. While waiting for the water in the kettle to boil, he considers his options.

They have given Jake as much love, stability, and support as possible, but he does not give up his longing for Rachel. How can you long for something you never had? Pete has no idea, but he figures that living in a world that teaches there is one right kind of family will do that to most. That didn't happen to him: his parents are dead, period. He was nine years old the day his mother didn't get out of bed anymore, and he was on his own until he found Nick and Carole. For as long as he can remember, he was a pariah: his father was a traitor, his mother was working instead of taking care of him, he couldn't take the mistreatment in foster homes quietly, he liked boys, his father was a traitor -again-, he was the best aviator and everyone envy him. It's the only life he's ever known. He accepted that he would never be like the people on TV, in movies, and in novels, and built his life without expecting to abide by any of those rules.

But he's not like most people.

Pete spoons the chamomile flowers into the strainer, puts it in the blue cup, turns off the burner, and slowly pours the water. Now he has to wait for it to cool down.

It was hard for Ice to recognize their mutual attraction. Mav and Nick noticed how he looked at him from day one of Top Gun, but it was two years before he made the first move. By then, Mav was pretty tired of waiting for the "gay awakening" of the most thoughtful guy in the Navy and almost jumped on him. Sure, Ice lived in a closet deep enough to contain all of Cher's outfits for good reasons. It was Jake's pregnancy what forced him to go from resigned to having a secret long-distance relationship to deciding to beat the Navy at their own game of surveillance and control.

He shakes the strainer in the trash can, wash it, and place it in the drainer. Takes the honey from the cupboard and drops a trickle into the cup. Stir the infusion. The rising spirals tell him it is still too early to drink.

Sarah also had very narrow ideas of what a family should be like and was willing to live in a marriage of lies rather than allow herself to be happy. She was in love with Ice but had accepted that he belonged to Mav, like that was the end of the road. They had taught her that love is sacrifice. She almost threw a book at his head when he proposed that she could let someone else into her heart.

He takes a drink of the infusion and sighs, satisfied.

What has all this been for?

To be honest, they still live in a closet.

Tom married Sarah. Pete married Carole. Each marriage has two children. They even bought a house with a white wooden fence.

Their own offspring do not suspect that they are not at all conventional. The first and last time they kissed outside their bedroom was when Ice returned from Somalia -a slip they have never allowed again. They have invested nine years of their lives in building the facade of perfect normalcy. So it's no wonder Jake wants to be normal.

He frowns at the cup: he has already drunk half the chamomile tea.

Maybe it was a mistake to tell Jake that Rachel was alive?

Three years ago, they did not dare. Saying that Rachel was dead felt like saying that Tom had died. The long-term plan is to reveal the truth to Jake. All the truth. With that on the horizon, they vowed to tell as few lies as possible. Can Rachel be dead if she never existed? For Tom and his brother Ray, Rachel never existed. It was a disguise imposed by society. Of the seventeen years that Tom suffered as Rachel, there are only a few photos left, memories of those who thought they knew a tomboyish girl who disappeared as soon as she finished high school. But the person who birthed Jake is not dead.

He clasps the cup, the heat almost entirely dissipated, and grunts.

His son is suffering, and he cannot help him. Maybe a therapist? Ice and Sarah are ardent advocates of professional mental health care. Mav, not so much, but he knows that not everything can be solved at home. This new plan of Jake seems to be a turning point.

A pair of slender, strong arms wrap around him from behind. Pete relaxes against Sarah's chest.

"I got tired of waiting for you."

"Sorry. I wanted to have a clear head before I went to bed."

She makes a disgruntled noise, pulls away, and sits beside him.

"What happened with Jake?"

"He wants to," he clears his throat because it's so hard to say it out loud. "He wants Ice to locate Rachel so she can come home and marry me. He says it's his turn to have a mom."

Sarah's face oscillates between shock and sorrow.

"Oh! Mav … What…? What do you want to do?"

"For starters, we won't tell Ice about this," he says firmly.

She nods.

"And as for Jake, I think…" He slaps his hands on the table and shakes his head. "I think it's time we seek professional help. He has to accept that Rachel is not coming back."

Of course, she's not coming back because Rachel has never left.

 

Monday, June 28

"Your father is awesome, Brad, the best!"

Brad nods vaguely at the young man who waves a colorful mocktail, and continues walking. It's five minutes in the same style: people greet him, pat him on the shoulder, yell —to make themselves heard over Britney and her plea for kiss me, baby, one more time— about how great everything is, blow kisses and try to hug him, and he nods, waves back to people he barely remembers passing in the school corridors and slips away before his arms close around his shoulders or torso, the way Mav taught him.

He never strays. He just shakes Denise's hand tightly and moves to the back of the ballroom, where the stairs to the second floor are. Access to the upper level is limited: it is where alcoholic beverages are available for the adults who accept the invitation. So as soon as they cross the border guarded by two security guards, the crowd is left behind. When they're halfway up the steps, Brad allows himself to take a deep breath and relax his shoulders.

"Everything okay?"

He turns to Denise. He's one step above her and taller, so he's got a perfect angle to her cleavage. He is supposed to look at her cleavage. Right?

"Yeah, all good." He looks up into her eyes effortlessly. "I just didn't expect so many people."

She raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Your father rents a club for your birthday party; you expect people to pass on it. Really? When we get to high school in September, you'll be a hero, Brad."

He shakes his head doubtfully but says nothing more. They reach the second floor, arranged like a gallery along two sides of the club, overlooking the main dance floor. The space is divided into booths furnished with semicircular sofas and low tables. They go straight to the couch where Pete Mitchell is chatting with Ron Slider over beer.

"The birthday boy finally arrives!" -Mav gets up as soon as he sees them coming and hugs him. "Happy Birthday, son."

"Thanks, Dad. Rear Admiral Kener, sir."

But his attempt at formality is crushed by the bear hug the man wraps around him.

"Slider, Brad, I'm always Slider to you," the man lets go after giving him several overzealous pats on the back. "And she is?"

"Denise," he says simply.

He never had to introduce her to anyone and realizes he doesn't know how to. That they share a passion for sports statistics? It sounds pathetic, even in his head. But Slider draws his own conclusions and smiles.

"So you already have a girlfriend?"

"No!" exclaims Brad, quickly realizing that his refusal was too brisk and with the characteristic high-pitched tone of panic.

Denise lets go of his hand and looks at him with a wounded expression. Did she think that…? Yes, she thought it. She washed her mouth three times before leaving the house today because she was confident she would have her first kiss this Monday.

"Denise…"

She shakes her head and takes a step back, away from Brad.

"I want to go," and although she almost whispers it, the three can hear her perfectly. Aware that his rush was responsible for this disaster, Slider steps forward.

"Come on downstairs. I'll have them call you a taxi."

"Thank you."

Mav watches them go down with a sad expression -he likes Denise but suspects he won't see her again for a while- and then he turns to his son.

"Come, sit down," -he takes Brad by the forearm and leads him to the sofa where Slider and he shared less than three minutes ago.

A bartender soon appears with a neon green mocktail and sets it on the table. Brad takes it mechanically and sips a drink to avoid his father's eyes. It is acidic and fresh.

"Delicious," he says to fill the awkward silence between them.

Pete nods, takes a sip of his own beer, and looks absently down. Brad can't take much more.

"Should I apologize to her?" he finally asks, wringing his hands.

"Yes," his father replies without looking at him. "It is ugly to play with other people's feelings."

"I never told her she was my girlfriend," the boy protests.

Pete stops pretending to be interested in the crowd of teenagers singing, "I'd still miss you baby. And I don't wanna miss a thing", as if they really knew what it is to miss a loved one, and he concentrates on his eldest son. Brad has been freaking out for a week now and has no idea why.

It's not for the party.

Since last year, the Navy and Lockheed Martin have required much stricter security at the house, so opening the doors to an unknown number of families is not an option. For 1998 Brad's birthday, they invited his grade to a water park. For Sean's birthdays in January, and the cekpápi's, in April, they held the celebrations at the nursery and school, respectively -it was cheaper, and they didn't have to clean the house. All three celebrations were a success.

This year Brad is fifteen, so they propose him to book a club, where there would be music and strict control over drinks. Booking a club for a few hours on a Monday is not too expensive. Mondays are slow for this kind of business anyway. Everything was going well until the boy suddenly shut down a week ago. Sarah even asked him if he wanted the party called off, but that seemed to terrify him. He insisted that they go ahead.

Pete had a bad feeling about all this, and it came true: Brad was an hour late for his birthday party -not that the dancers down there would care much- and he just broke up with Denise.

"You didn't tell her that she wasn't your girlfriend either, did you?" -he replies while resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands. "People build expectations, son. You guys have been stuck for almost two years. You hardly ever stop at home because you're always with Denise and Nathan."

"I know," Brad says painedly, looking down at his hands. "It's just that… I never told her anything. She imagined everything. Everyone around me" —he shrugs as if trying to brush something off his back— "everyone thinks they know me."

Oh! This is serious, Pete understands. He is about to say something else, but a hand lands on Bradley's shoulder, interrupting them.

"Brad, what are you doing up here with the fossils? No offense, Mr. Mitchell!"

Bradley's body comes to life as if electricity has been applied, and he rises to embrace the newcomer.

"Nathan! You are here!"

The redhead hugs him back and pats him on the back.

"Of course, I'm here," he says when they separate. "I wasn't going to miss my best friend since sixth grade fifteen years party. I had my brother bring me from Los Angeles. I hope you don't mind one more guest, Mr. Mitchell."

"Not at all."

Pete pretends not to notice the flush on his son's cheeks or Nathan's possessive arm around his back. Do they realize it themselves? That does not matter now.

The trumpet and percussion chords of a new song stir the air. On the dance floor, hands go up, and many howls.

"Go dance."

From the balcony, Pete watches as Nathan leads Brad to the center of the dance floor, and several girls surround them. Did he imagine it? He feels Slider sit beside him and decides this warrants a second opinion.

"Tell me what you see, Ron. Who is Brad dancing with? Who is he really dancing with?" –and points where his son moves his hips to the rhythm of Ricky Martin's Living la Vida Loca.

"Damn!" Slider exclaims after a few minutes of watching, and Mav feels her heart stop. "Shall I get you a whiskey?"

"Yeah." Pete sinks into his seat. "Yeah, I need something strong to process this."

 

Saturday, July 3

Mav had no one to discuss his sexual awakening with -unless you count the beating he received from a couple of kids at the foster home he was staying at. After that, he learned to be discreet. Compared to the overly long stare that earned him a cracked rib, the interactions between Brad and Nathan at the club were almost a front-page Washington Post ad. However, no one reacted, perhaps because they were dancing and discos are places for promiscuity. The important thing is that he now knows why his son went out like a light bulb without electricity: Nathan's family moved to Los Angeles, and June 28 was probably the last time they would see each other for a long time.

Now he must wait for Brad to speak because he loves his son and can respect him.

Hopefully, it won't be long because he'd like to get that out before they fly to Hawaii next month. He's felt his son's gaze for days, pretending nothing is wrong and wondering if, just as Jake longs for a birth mother, Brad longs to be straight because their facade of normalcy is too good.

It's Saturday, and Sarah has taken the dynamic trio to the Barona Reservation. They have agreed that Jake, Sam, and Sean must know their Indian heritage. So they accompany Sarah to activities organized by the small Sioux community in the San Diego area and visit the reservation frequently.

That means it's just him and Brad.

To create a conducive environment, Mav decides to finally watch the "Heat" DVD, which Ice has highly recommended. When it came out in the fall of 1997, he was too busy with Carole's cancer to go to the movies. Of course, he (secretly) celebrated the 1998 Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for Tom Cruise for his portrayal of Charles Polesti, but he's never seen the film.

While making the popcorn, Brad comes to the kitchen.

"Are you going to see something?" The boy asks as he fixes himself a late breakfast.

"Yes," he says with careful disinterest as he transfers the popcorn from the pan to a plastic bowl. "It is one of a gang of thieves who are going to rob a bank but are betrayed. They say that the street shooting scene is very realistic. You wanna join?"

Brad nods. They go to the living room, Mav with popcorn and soda and his son with a sandwich and chocolate milk. If the boy thinks of something when he sees the film title on the box, he shuts it up.

The film's first act is predictable: a well-planned robbery gone wrong because someone doesn't play well as a team, a discussion of mistakes, De Niro's attempt to punish the offender, and Waingro's escape. It is around minute twenty when the story takes an unexpected turn.

Chris, Val Kilmer's character, arrives at a house with a pool. Mav feels the hairs on the back of her neck rise because, fuuuck, Kilmer is a super hot guy, and watching him walk through the house is a delight. The character's attitude is very different now. He is relaxed, smiling -he hadn't smiled until this moment in the film.

Tom Cruise is in a sun lounger by the pool, displaying all his glorious sexiness while typing on a laptop with a focused expression and shirtless.

"Hey," Val says to Tom Cruise, resting his hip on an iron table beside the chaise.

Cruise puts a finger to his lips and continues typing for a few seconds. Kilmer looks at him, but it's a look of absolute love, naked. Finally, Cruise closes the laptop, puts it down, and focuses on Kilmer.

"You are late. Something happened?"

The other shrugs.

"A little complication."

He pushes away from the table, swings one leg over the lounge chair, and sits on Cruise's lap.

"You look too good to go out."  -and leans in to kiss him.

Brad spits out his chocolate. Pete is left with a handful of popcorn in his hand. What the fuck? How did they get these two to film THAT?

"I could make love to you right here," Kilmer says tenderly before Brad grabs control and pauses.

"Oh my gosh, where did you get this Dad?" -he scolds him. "My siblings could see it!"

"Your siblings? Really? I keep all the R-rated films on the top level of the closet. Besides, you've already seen two deaths, a car on fire, and botched execution, but what you're worried about is two guys kissing? Come on, you're not eight years old, Brad."

"Precisely, I'm fifteen and know that's… is…" His eyes widen, but he can't articulate anything else.

"If you tell me it's unnatural or immoral, I'll send you to Fredericksburg, Texas, so you can share your prejudiced worldviews with the rest of the Abbot family," he replies seriously. "We didn't raise you that way. Now press play on that thing. I want to see two of the most attractive guys in Hollywood messing around."

Brad looks him up and down, incredulous and scared, but complies.

To Mav's disappointment, Kilmer's character has some self-control: he pulls away from Cruise after they exchange a few steamy kisses and heads back inside the house.

"Where is the money?" -asks the dark-haired man as he takes the laptop from the floor and follows him.

Hmm, yes. Tom Cruise's torso is still as well outlined as in "Far and Away," Mav licks his lips.

"I squared the bookies, baby," Kilmer says, still walking. "There's more in a couple of days, so don't sweat it. Come on, we really are late" -and he gestures with his hand as if to suggest that his lover get dressed.

"Yeah, come on, you gotta be kidding me. Honey, it ain't worth the risks you take for a few thousand. There is a thing called a risk-reward ratio."

"Let's go," Kilmer repeats, ignoring him, and grabs his jacket. "Put on one of your nice shirts."

But Cruise doesn't obey him. Instead wiggles his eyebrows, stands still in the middle of the room, and crosses his arms over his chest. All the sensual relaxation has disappeared to make way for anger.

"There is no point talking to you. You're a child in the body of an adult."

Kilmer stops, turns to look at him, and is surprised at the change in attitude.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you don't act like a responsible adult, and it hurts our family because I fell in love with a gambling junkie thief who won't listen to me."

"Charles, get dressed and get in the fucking car!"

"Oh! Is Cruise's character named Charles?" says Brad, amazed. "A bit grating the Chris and Charles thing, isn't it, Dad?"

Mav nods, but his attention is on the screen. The cuteness has worn off, and Chris/Val has just thrown something off the table against the wall, upset by Charles/Cruise's claims about his financial irresponsibility? Wow, this is unexpected. How did they go from softcore gay porn to domestic drama so quickly?

"You can't intimidate me with that alpha male crap!" -replies Charles, unmoved by the glass crashing.

"What more do you want from me? I told you the rest of the money will arrive in a couple of days. Are we going, or  I'm going alone?"

"Do you think I'm yours?" says Cruise angrily. "Is that how you treated the whores you were with before? Leave the keys on the kitchen counter on your way out! Dominik will forget you soon."

That last sentence makes Chris react: he jumps over a table toward Charles as if to attack him, but a babyish cry stops them both dead.

"But they also have a baby?" -This time, it's Pete who can't keep quiet. This relationship reminds him more and more of his early years with Ice.

On the screen, Kilmer frowns, sighs, and runs into the house. Cruise's face goes from angry to tender in a second, and follows him.

"That's enough!" -Brad pauses the film again and turns to his father. "Is this some kind of ambush?"

"What?" -Pete is so surprised by "Heat" that he doesn't understand what his son is talking about for a moment.

"Did you put this gay movie to give me some kind of message?"

"No, at least not only for that. Ice told me I should see it. That I would like it."

"Icepop? -repeats the incredulous young man- "Has in, Rear Admiral Tom Kazansky saw this and was okay with it?"

"Yeah."

"And he recommended it to you."

"Yeah. I mean... I knew that Cruise won an Oscar and stuff, but Carole had just died, so I wasn't in it for films of any kind. So the DVD came out about a month ago, and Ice sent it to me as a gift."

Brad makes an uncomfortable face.

"You have no idea how gay that sounds, Dad."

"Maybe," -Mav says with false disinterest. "But, to be completely honest, I also put it on to make you understand that I," he stops and decides to be more explicit, "that our family doesn't have a problem with homosexuality."

Brad averts his eyes and wrings his hands.

"Then you realized it," he mumbles.

"Would you rather prefer I hadn't noticed?"

The boy shrinks in on himself.

"I don't know," he admits. "I'd rather…" he sighs and straightens up as if preparing to go into battle. "I would rather not have disappointed you."

"Brad, you are my son. You cannot disappoint me for being who you are."

"Please! You don't have to fake sympathy. I know you want me to be an aviator, or at least join some military branch."

"Not the Marines!" blurts Pete automatically.

Brad raises an eyebrow, puzzled. The man makes an uncomfortable shrug.

"Long story, besides the point. The important thing now is that this family accepts you just the way you are."

He opens his arms, and Brad takes refuge in his chest. Although he is already Pete's height, he seems to have shrunk. A slight tremor runs through him, and Mav calms it with circular movements in the back.

"Do you really not care that I…?"

"No."

"And you are not going to give me a talk about the dangers of that lifestyle?"

Pete snorts, half amused and half horrified.

"Is that what they call it at school nowadays? In my times, they at least recognized that you didn't choose to be gay. They told us it was a psychiatric illness. I had an acquaintance… they gave him a couple of electroshock sessions to "cure" him."

He feels Brad tense in his arms. It's horrible for him to remember, too, but Brad must understand the world's dangers.

"He wasn't the same after that. Of course, they didn't cure him" -and he decides to be explicit again- "because there was nothing to cure. But they broke something inside. I don't want anyone to hurt you, Brad."

"I'm not going to get in trouble," the boy assures him. "I'm not going to embarrass you, Dad."

"No, son! I would never be ashamed of you. Whatever you feel, who you decide to love, as long as it's honest, you'll have my support. Our support."

Brad pulls out of the hug and fearfully looks up.

"What about the Navy? I was reading there is that law, the DADT, right? I can't go to Annapolis if they know I'm gay."

So he really wants to be an aviator? Mav thinks a bit before answering.

"You are my son Bradley, and my first duty is with you, not with some idea of the family legacy. So, the professional path you decide to follow, and the personal sacrifices you choose to make to fulfill your dreams, will be your decision and no one else's. I think you're very young" -the boy opens his mouth to protest, but Mav stops him with a gesture. "Yes, you are barely fifteen. That is very young. You should explore all of your options before you commit to spending eight or ten years with your life on the line and no opportunity to be honest with anyone."

Bradley is going to say something but thinks better of it and nods.

"Okay."

"Good. Now can we get on with the movie? I really want to know what's up with those two."

Brad reaches for the remote and hits the "play" button but stays next to his dad.

"Do you think Kilmer and Cruise have a sex scene?" Mav asks a few minutes later as they watch De Niro and the young bookseller's awkward interaction: "They sure look better without clothes than De Niro, who is almost sixty."

Brad grabs a cushion from the sofa and covers his face, blushing.

"Dad, please," he groans. "Don't ask me those questions."

Mav bursts out laughing.

 

November 25, Thanksgiving Day

When he realizes it, Bradley wonders how he could have ignored it for so long. It's been there, right in front of his face, for as long as he can remember. He is left with the comfort that he was as clueless as the rest of the world.

It starts like this: he wakes up in the middle of the night with an intense desire to pee and thirst. They had a big Thanksgiving dinner, so it's not surprising that he woke up. The problem is that the night is cold, and he doesn't feel like getting out from under the covers. But nature calls.

Bradley shoves his feet into his fuzzy slippers, fumbles to the bathroom, empties his bladder, washes his hands, and heads for the kitchen.

He has enough sense to realize that he shouldn't wake up his senkaku, so he walks slowly and carefully opens the access door to the ground floor. In the ground floor main gallery, he sees with satisfaction that the light that filters through the windows keeps the house in a semi-darkness through which one can move without having to turn on the light. He goes to the kitchen with his hand glued to the wall, thinking he should make chamomile tea instead of drinking water. Dad has told him that it helps with digestion.

Turning the corner, he sees a vaguely human shape attached to the wall, but does it have two heads? Bradley blinks and tries to focus better. It is impossible to see more details in such low light. Still half asleep, the boy reaches for the light switch.

The room lights up, and several things happen simultaneously.

The shape that was attached to the wall splits in two. Brad blinks and says, "Uh?"

Tom Kazansky throws his husband onto his back in one fluid motion, grabs a knife from the counter, and confronts whoever got into the house. He discovers his eldest son in pajamas, with an incredulous expression and his hand still on the switch.

"Brad?"

Pete Mitchell is upset by the rude interruption -blue balls are no joke- and terrified that an intruder could endanger his family. He peeks out from behind his husband —later, they'll discuss putting him behind his back like he's a damsel— and sees Bradley, his eyes going from Ice's face to the knife he's still holding in an offensive pose.

"Fuck!"

His comment makes the boy react.

"Dad? Icepop?... What…? Why are you threaten me with a knife?"

"I thought you were an intruder," -Ice returns the knife to its place. "Weren't you sleeping?"

"Yes, but I ate a lot and…" -he then notices that the two men have their shirts open and their cheeks are flushed. "Wait a minute, what were you doing down here?"

"We just finished washing the dishes," Ice improvises as he scrambles to cover his chest.

"With the lights off?"

"Well…"

Tom looks desperately at Pete, who smacks his face and growls. His husband is great at lying in his official capacity, but this... Anyway, better to take the bull by the horns.

"We were kissing."

Brad looks at him blankly, then smiles in amusement.

"I'm dreaming," the boy concludes. "I dream that my parents are gay to feel better."

"Yes, exactly," Ice hastened to confirm with a friendly tone. "This is a dream. Go back to your bed now, okay?"

"No!" Mav interrupts. "You're not dreaming."

What convinces Bradley that he is not dreaming is seeing his parents have an entire conversation with just looks. He knows what that is, he've seen it before, but never with such intensity. Finally, Ice averts his eyes and shakes his head as if accepting something he can't change but doesn't like.

"Would you like a chamomile tea, Bradley?" -says Mav and goes to the sink to put water in the kettle.

"Yes, thanks."

"Ice, take out the cups and honey."

After the kettle is on the burner, they must wait. They sit around the kitchen counter, Ice and Mav to one side, Brad across from them.

"I'm not dreaming," the boy repeats to resume the conversation.

"No." -Mav intertwines his fingers with Ice's on the table. "Ice and I are together."

"Oh." Brad studies their clasped hands, afraid to look at their faces. "Since when?"

Ice clears his throat, and Mav nods slightly to encourage him.

"Yesterday was eleven years."

"Eleven years!?"

His eyes go from one to the other in wonder.

"We started dating at Thanksgiving dinner in 1988," Mav confirms.

"But you... and you... You were at that dinner with Mom and me. I have seen the photos."

"Yeah. But you know by now that grown-up people do grown-up things after kids go to bed. Don't you, son?"

Brad wants to protest Mav's condescending tone, but the kettle whistles, and the man hurries to prepare the cups of chamomile. The questions stop until everyone has their tea in their hands.

"So you're gay, Dad?"

"Bisexual, actually," the man says with a forced smile. "Ice, on the other hand, gay, gay, gay. Like Liberace."

"Hey!" -the blond nudges him gently. "There is no reason to mock. But yes, son, I'm gay."

"But you two… I mean, you married Mom, and you married Sarah, and you have two children."

"I loved your mother like a sister, Brad. We got married for two reasons, to protect me from the DADT and, most importantly, to protect you from the Abbot family in case something happened to Carole before you turned eighteen. She was terrified that they might claim custody of you."

"Sarah and I have a relationship of mutual convenience. She needed stability. I needed a wife. Regarding Sam and Sean, I'm gay, but some things are," -Ice blushes- "mechanical in their essence, with enough imagination and patience you can…"

"I don't want to know anything else!" Brad interrupts. "Nobody wants to know about their parent's sex life, okay?" He takes a sip of his chamomile. "So my mother knew. You didn't cheat on her."

"Cheat on your mother?" -Mav lets out a short laugh.

"Carole gave me 'the talk' the next morning," Ice recalls with a wistful expression. "He told me that if I broke Mav's heart, she would have my body disappear on a hog farm."

"Did she?" asks Mav surprised.

"Yeah. It was the perfect balance of fear and love. I understood that you were the family I needed. Your mother was an exceptional woman, Brad. You are a lot like her."

"And you are like Nick, too," Pete says. "He loved walking around in the dark. Always had bruises on his legs from bumping into furniture."

"Thanks dad, I'm really feeling very Bradshaw right now," Bradley replies sarcastically.

The three drink their infusions in silence for a while longer. A detail emerges from Bradley's conversation with his father a few months ago, when "Heat" led him out of the closet.

"So, when you told me that I should think twice before risking my life for years without the opportunity to be honest with anyone…"

"Yes, I was speaking from my own experience."

"But I still want to be an aviator like you."

Ice lets out a sad sigh.

"There is still time for you to change your mind. You are…"

"Yes, I know," -Brad interrupts with a tired tone- "I'm very young."

"But not so young as to not know how to keep secrets, right?" - Mav looks at him with absolute seriousness as he clasps his cup. "We'll lose everything. And I mean everything if you reveal any of this, son."

The boy gives him a sad smile.

"Don't worry Dad," he remembers the phrase he used to seal his childhood commitments. "I am your trusted ground support."