Bedtime Story - Five

[Daisuke]

- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six

Five



My computer made a ringing noise, and I put on my sunglasses, turned on the lights, and picked up a remote control. Entering the answer code, I glanced up to see the monitor on my desk swivel in my direction. “Hello, Father.”

Patrick Heaton frowned, his sapphire eyes sharpening as he stared at me. “Hello, Cameron. Isn’t it nearly four in the afternoon there? Why are you in bed?”

I held up a handkerchief for his benefit and sniffled into it. “I’m feeling under the weather,” I said, pulling the cloth away from my face. “Doctor Ross recommended I stay home for a few days.”

His frown eased, just slightly. “Is it serious?”

If it were any other father and son, I’d think that was concern in his voice. “Just a cold. I should be able to return to school on Monday.”

“Ah.” His gaze scanned the wall behind me before resting on my face again. “How did you get the web-camera to center on you when I called?”

“It’s motion sensitive.” I lifted the hand holding the handkerchief and extended my arm. The monitor followed my movement, then centered on me again when I brought the kerchief back to wipe my nose. “I can use the remote to customize the speed of movement, freeze the camera to focus on a specific point, etcetera. It can also be programmed to center on a particular voice print.”

Patrick leaned forward. “Interesting. Who manufactures it?”

“A small company in northern Michigan. Five people—they work out of a garage.” I reached out to get my wireless keyboard from the nightstand. “Sending their information to you now,” I said, accessing the message I had stored in my outbox. “Assuming the technology withstands the Spencer test, I believe it will be a valuable addition to the Heaton Corporation.”

“Spencer test?”

“You’ll see it in action soon.” I glanced at my watch. “He’ll be home any minute now.”

“Ah, good. I wanted to check in with you both on your first day of school.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Our first day of school was two weeks ago, Father.”

Surprise flickered over his face. “What?” Typing away at his own keyboard, he glanced at another screen in his office. “The schedule has it listed for today.”

“It would have been today if we hadn’t had so many snow days last year. I sent you the announcement last month, along with our class schedules.”

Surprise darkened into irritation. “The new executive assistant is obviously not working out.”

Although I knew someone had just been fired, I felt no sense of guilt or sympathy for the faceless person. Patrick Heaton needed an assistant who could do the job, after all.

Of course, I was smart enough not to mention that I’d Cc’d the message to his personal account as well.

“How have your studies been going, Cameron? Has being sick so early in the year set you back?”

“The curriculum seems straightforward and simple enough. I’m sick at the beginning of every school year and I’ve never had a problem with the schoolwork.”

His piercing eyes crinkled at the corners the way they sometimes did when he watched me. Thoughtful, somehow, but I wasn’t sure yet what the expression meant. “You’ve been holding up well considering your…”

“Frailty?” I supplied calmly.

He smiled. Well, his mouth tilted at one side. An almost smile. “If you’re comfortable with that word.”

This relationship I had with my father was markedly void of the affection I’d observed in other father-son relationships in passing, but lately it had developed an element of… fun? No, that wasn’t the right word.

Challenge, maybe.

“As long as the word is only meant to refer to my body, it’s fine.”

The smile on his mouth pulled just a little wider. “How is Spencer doing?”

“Quite well. His teachers say he’s mature for his age, but interacts easily with his classmates. No trouble making friends.”

“That’s always a plus. What about the academic side of things?”

“He came in second in a spelling bee on the first day of school and was very upset, so I’ve been helping him with his words. The next one is in a month, and he’s determined to win.”

“How do you think he’ll do?”

I took a moment, thought it over. The painstakingly handwritten list he’d brought home of all the words in the competition, the reading assignments he’d had since school began. “He’s bright, and an extremely quick learner when he’s focused. If he keeps bringing home perfect scores on his vocabulary tests, he’ll have no trouble winning the ribbon.”

“Excellent,” said Patrick. “Send me an email and let me know how he does.”

“Yes, Father.”

A door slammed on the first floor and I listened to the sound of hard footsteps pounding the stairs. They raced down the hall, skid to a stop in front of my room. I smiled at the soft, polite knock that tapped against my door.

“Cam? Are your glasses on? Can I come in?”

“It’s fine, Spence.”

The door swung open with enough force to hit the wall, and Spencer ran in. The monitor whipped in his direction, and I raised an eyebrow, impressed it hadn’t snapped right off the stand.

“Cameron! You shoulda seen it, today at recess I—” He paused halfway through the room, noticing the monitor for the first time. He stepped backward, to the left, to the right, watching it follow him the whole time. “Coool, when did you—” His face lit up when he noticed who was on the screen. “DAD!” He bolted to my desk, jumping onto the chair and forcing the monitor to tilt backward to ‘look’ up at him. “Hi! How’re you doing! Did Cameron tell you I’m the fastest one in my class? Did he?”

Patrick cast me a sideways glance. “The Spencer test?”

I gave him slight nod, knowing he was going to be acquiring a company in Michigan as soon as he closed the window on us.

Spencer looked at me, then again at our father. “Spencer test?”

“Nothing,” chuckled Patrick. “Hey sport! So you’re the fastest in your class, are you?”

My brother’s chest puffed out. “Strongest too! Nobody can keep up with me in PE.”

“I believe it,” he murmured, smiling warmly. “I’m amazed at how big you are.”

So was I, truthfully. He was eight years old, but he looked closer to twelve, with shoulders broader than his hips and a solid chest that showed off muscle through his shirt even when it wasn’t puffed out with pride. I’d finally managed to have a growth spurt of my own over the last year, putting me at four foot seven and just under three inches taller than him. I had a feeling this was the last year I was going to be the taller brother, but I didn’t mourn the loss too much. Because I was so thin, people were already beginning to assume Spencer was the older Heaton brother when we went someplace new.

Everyone in town, though, knew exactly who I was, and for now that was all that mattered.

Spencer pulled the sleeve of his shirt up to his shoulder and flexed his biceps at the screen in front of him. “Check it out, Dad! It’s looking pretty big, huh?”

Patrick whistled, staring at a rock of muscle the size of a baseball. “That’s really something. I can’t believe you’re only in the fourth grade.”

“Fourth grade?” Spencer dropped his arm, his excitement slipping. “Third, Dad.”

Grinning, Patrick spread his hands. “See what I mean? You’re so big that my eyes tell me lies and I get tricked all the time.”

Spencer giggled, and I had to hand it to Patrick. That sounded like a real joke, even to me.

I sneezed into my handkerchief, sniffled softly into the cloth.

Spencer’s attention snapped to me, and he leapt off the chair, running across the room to crawl into my bed. “Are you okay, Cam? Feeling any better?”

“I’m fine,” I said, tilting in his direction as his body sank into my mattress. “You’re getting heavy.”

Laughing, Spencer grasped my shoulders and pressed me back against the headboard. “You always say that.” He settled in next to me, pulling my blankets higher on my body. “Stay warm.”

My heart tightened as I gently ruffled his hair, as always like silk against my fingers. He was such a good kid. And he’d been mine almost exclusively for two years now.

Yet it wasn’t enough. Lately I found myself entertaining thoughts of keeping him mine forever.

Those were…dangerous thoughts. Even then, I knew that. But I was fourteen, and Spencer was the one bright thing in my life.

*****

I stared down at the hay-strewn ground, swallowed the lump in my throat. Those days were my happiest. Suddenly I didn’t want to move past them.

“Cameron.”

I looked up.

Spencer looked at me with cold, sharp eyes, so like our father’s. “The one bright thing?”

“My life revolved around you back then, Spencer. You know that.”

“But it wouldn’t later.”

A muscle in my jaw ticked. “No, it wouldn’t.” All at once, I found the strength to continue our story, and I went right back to that day, to that moment.

*****

My gaze met Patrick’s, watching us from his office across the country. His eyes were cool, assessing. I wondered if he knew Spencer loved me more than he loved his own father.

Somehow, I doubted my father cared as much as our mother would if she knew. Natasha adored Spencer. As much as she was capable, anyway.

Cindy appeared at my bedroom door, but was careful not to step in. The computer monitor sensed her movement and swiveled to catch her.

“Cameron, I’m preparing a snack for Spencer. It should be ready in about ten minutes.”

My mouth crooked. So polite. And her appearance was convenient, too. Always nice to have evidence of a responsible authority figure around. “Thank you, Cindy. That will be—”

“D-Did you make something for Cameron?”

I glanced down in surprise. Even now, Spencer didn’t speak to Cindy if he could help it.

She hesitated, waited for me to look at her. “Would you like something, Cameron?”

“I’m not hun—”

“Cam,” Spencer twisted one of his hands into my shirt, “you’re sick. You should have some chicken soup or something.”

The perfect blue of his eyes, innocent and pleading, was my undoing, and I sighed. “A bowl of soup does sound nice,” I conceded.

Cindy nodded. “I’ll get started on that right away.”

“Ms. Sloan.”

Cindy jumped, glanced at the computer screen in surprise. “M-Mr. Heaton?”

He grinned, I assume to put her at ease. “How have my sons been doing?”

“Fine,” she answered quickly, her skin paling. “They’re perfect angels.”

“Angels, really.” He glanced at me, then returned his attention to her. “How are their studies going?”

“Good.” She linked her hands in front of her. “They both study hard.”

“And the spelling bee? I hear there’s been a lot of focus on that.”

“The…spelling bee. Yes…well…” Her breath hitched. “They… I-I mean he…”

“Cindy?” I interrupted, my voice light. “Is something burning?”

Nothing was, but I could see her relief as she turned and ran from us. “Oh! I’m sorry Mr. Heaton!” she called as she disappeared.

I lifted a hand and the monitor found us again. My head tilted to the side when I saw that familiar almost smile on his mouth.

“I hope I didn’t ruin Spencer’s snack,” he said casually.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I told him, mimicking his tone.

“Is she taking good care of you? I had the impression the adjustment period was somewhat difficult when she first arrived.”

“Excellent care, Father.”

He grinned, his gaze shifting to Spencer. “We’re planning to visit in three weeks. Would you like that?”

Spencer’s back shot straight. “Really? Yes!”

Retrieving the keyboard that Spencer had knocked from my lap when he climbed into bed, I opened a digital calendar in the bottom half of the screen and entered the date. “How long do you plan to stay?”

“Three days.”

A normal visit, then. “Shall I give Cindy those days off as usual?”

His grin pulled wider. “We do prefer family time to consist of family-only, yes.”

Always easier when tradition weaved nicely into the web of lies I’d built around us. “All right. I’ll be sure to have fresh sheets put on your bed and to order a monitor like this one for your office.”

“I appreciate that, Cameron. Very considerate.”

I felt my mouth tilt, and wondered if the almost smile mirrored his. “Thank you, Father. Does this conclude our conversation today?”

“Sadly, yes. I have a lot of work to do.”

“Aww,” pouted Spencer. “See you later, Dad!”

He winked. “Bye, kiddo.”

The screen went black, and I set the keyboard aside. “Wash up for your snack, Spence. I can hear your stomach rumbling.”

He snuggled in to me, and it took everything I had to hide my wince. Spencer’s muscles were every bit as hard as they looked. “I wanna eat with you. Make Cindy bring our food up here.”

Despite myself, I pulled him closer. “I don’t know, Spence. I think speaking with Father frayed her nerves. She might tip the tray on the way up.”

“That was great,” he said, giggling. Then, just as suddenly, the laughter died away. “Cameron? I feel weird about lying to Dad.”

“I’m lying to him, not you, so don’t worry about it.”

“Why don’t you like him?”

I paused, knowing I had to answer him carefully. “Why do you think I don’t like him?”

He shrugged, surprising me because the motion of his shoulders nearly lifted me off the mattress. Lately Spencer’s body seemed to be gaining a disproportionate amount of power, even for him. So far I’d kept it a secret from our parents, but it felt as if he were gearing up for something, and I couldn’t fathom what it might be.

“The way you talk to Dad is kind of…”

Cold. Spencer was a friendly, popular kid. Of course he wouldn’t understand. “I don’t dislike Father,” I murmured, thinking about their upcoming visit. “It’s just a game we play.”

“A game?”

“Yes, I haven’t quite figured out the rules yet,” I smiled, “but I’m learning.”

He frowned, confused. “Is it a fun game?”

“Challenging.”

“Is ‘challenging’ better than fun?”

Was it? There was no doubt in my mind that Patrick Heaton was the most ruthless man I would ever meet, and that I was currently playing with fire.

My mouth crooked. “Yes, sometimes challenging is better than fun.”

His frown deepened. “But…”

“Come on.” I threw off my blanket and eased out of bed. “I’m sure my soup is nearly ready. Let’s wash up together.”

Spencer jumped off the mattress and ran around to stand in front of me. “You’re sick.” He slipped his hands around my waist, as if to steady me. “You should stay in bed.”

His hands felt big, warm. I reached down and took one of them into my own, silently comparing the sizes as I entwined our fingers together. His palms were wider. His fingers were longer, thicker. No doubt they were stronger.

Something strange in my stomach twisted. I didn’t understand what it was.

Spencer’s face started to turn red. “Why… Why are you staring at me like that?”

Staring? I blinked, shook my head. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” And when did he start blushing, anyway?

The blush deepened. “Are you sure you’re okay, Cam?”

“I’m not an invalid,” I said softly, shaking off my unease as I led him out of my bedroom.

With what looked like barely any effort at all on his part, Spencer tugged me against his body. “I know. You’re a super hero.”

Still on that. Smiling, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to let him have his illusions a while longer. As we had our afternoon snacks, he told me about his day. Then we worked on his homework, had a mock spelling bee, ate the dinner Cindy left for us. Nothing out of the ordinary.

When it was time for bed, he grabbed me before we could separate into our rooms. “Can I sleep with you tonight?” he asked brightly.

My eyebrows lifted. “You scared?”

His lips bowed in an adorable pout. “No.”

I would have said yes if he’d lied, no questions asked. He had to have known that, but even then he still couldn’t bring himself to deceive me. It was one of the things I loved most about him. “Then go to your own bed. You’re getting too old to sleep with me.”

“Aw, Cam.” He pushed me back, pinned me against the wall. “Please?”

I tried to step forward and found myself stuck. Even when I pushed against his arms, I couldn’t budge them.

The pout vanished as his mouth curved in a mischievous grin. “I bet if I got into your bed, you couldn’t stop me.”

“True,” I said, tilting my head to the side. “But what fun would that be?”

He stopped short, then pressed his body along mine, curling his fingers into my shirt. “Please.” He pushed himself on his toes, kissed my cheek before burying his face in the crook of my neck. “Please, Cameron.”

Was his… Was his voice deeper? I hesitated, then wrapped my arms around him. His shirt was stretched tight trying to contain his back—we’d have to go shopping for new clothes soon. Again. “Why?”

Spencer took a deep breath. “I like the way you smell,” he said, his lips moving against my skin. “And I like how I can feel your heartbeat sometimes when you hold me. I really like it when you talk to me until I fall asleep.”

It sounded…like he was lonely. Usually I gave him whatever he wanted, but the thought of his body, bigger than mine, heavier…

A tremor of unease went through me. I didn’t understand why. I’d always known Spence would outgrow me—why did the idea suddenly make me nervous?

“How about you go to your own bed and I tell you a story until you fall asleep?” I suggested.

He pressed closer, his broad, hard chest pushing into mine. “A story about us?”

“Sure.”

Spencer settled onto his feet, bent his knees. His strong arms slipped around my hips and he straightened his legs, lifting me into the air.

My hands shot to his shoulders as I steadied myself. “What’s this?” If he really did intend to force his way into my bed, how would I stop that?

Tipping his head back, he met my gaze. “I wanted to show you how strong I am.”

“Ah.”

“I’ve been letting you win at wrestling. For a really long time.”

“I know.”

He stared up at me, his face uncertain. “Is that okay?”

I smiled and ruffled his hair. “Yes.”

Breaking into a fresh grin, he carried me to his bedroom.

“Spence, I can walk.”

“Yeah,” he said, hugging me tight, “but you’re sick, and it’s fine for sick people to be carried.”

“Oh?” This certainly wasn’t a lesson I’d taught him. “Where did you learn that?”

He shrugged. I suspected it was a rule he’d just made up.

Spencer set me down by his bed, ran to get a chair and set it so I could sit close to him. As I sat he rushed to put on his pajamas, shut his door, climb into bed.

I leaned forward. “Once—”

“Wait.” He turned out the lamp beside him, then reached down and unplugged his nightlight. Scooting to the edge of the bed, he lifted his arms and tentatively touched my sunglasses.

“Oh,” I whispered, catching on to what he wanted and removing them. “How’s that?”

He held himself inches from my face. “I wish I could see your eyes.”

“I’m know. But thank you for allowing me to see yours so clearly.”

Smiling, Spencer settled back onto the mattress. “And you like my eyes, right? Because they’re like Dad’s? Are they challenging?”

I pulled a blanket up to his chin. “They’re charming.”

“Charming? Is that better than challenging?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation.

“Cool.” He slid down and laid his head on his pillow. “Ready.”

Holding my glasses in my lap, I began the story. “Once upon a time, there were two princes…”

*****

“And here we are again,” muttered Spencer. “So much of our lives were filled with fairy tales.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I said, thinking about all those stories, wondering if in the end they were of any use at all. Perhaps I was wrong to fill his head with ideas of happy endings. My head, too.

“You are so stupid.”

I stared into the distance. “Am I?”

“You were fourteen and had no idea what was happening that night. You still have no idea.”

My eyes narrowed. “And what.” I turned my head, looked into his eyes. “Was happening that night, Spencer?”

His mouth snapped shut.

Even now—even now—he couldn’t…

I had my own rage, and it was swiftly bubbling to the surface. I broke his gaze because I couldn’t stand to look into those fucking eyes as I struggled to tamp it down. Get ahold, I told myself. You have to help Spencer.

Again.

Because it’s ALWAYS about Spencer.

As I blew out a slow breath, I started to realize the full scope of what I’d lost because of what I’d had to do for his sake. “God,” I whispered, “I could really use a drink.”

Spencer snorted. “Like you drink.”

My rage flared, and I shot him a look so dark and he actually recoiled from it. Without saying a word, my gaze never leaving his, I reached into my breast pocket and retrieved a steel flask. I unscrewed the top and took a long, long drink. The fiery liquid seared my throat, my chest. A good pain, a familiar pain.

Spencer bolted upright. “What is…” He snatched the flask from my hand and took a sniff. “This is really liquor,” he said, staring at me in shock.

I held out my hand.

He pulled it back. “How long have you…”

Irritated, I snapped my fingers and opened my hand again.

His breath hitched. “Is this…” He held up the flask. “Is this in the story, too?”

For the first time all night, he looked like he actually cared. As the warmth of the whiskey spread through my core and out to my limbs, I nodded, able to rein in my anger.

Spencer gave it back to me, and I returned it to my pocket. I’d probably need it again before the night was out, just like I needed it to get to sleep, to get to work, to get through work…

I scrubbed at my face with my hand. I was so tired.

“Cam. Please.”

Letting calm settle over my expression once more, I glanced up. “All right.”

[Daisuke]

Sorry it's so long. Got a little carried away.

I think there'll be a growth scene in the next chapter.

[Generitrans]

Wow. This is excellent, Daisuke; I'm really looking forward to seeing more. I read this part, then had to go back and read the rest all in one go because it's really great stuff. I'm really wanting to see where you take this, and despairing that this is all there is for now.

[chezshire]

This is really quite enjoyable. The story is fun and intriqueing and I'm very curious to see where it goes. I hope the chapters continue and as for the length, i think i'm a size queen cause i'm ok with it

Good showing thus far!

[chocomus]

Originally Posted by Daisuke

I think there'll be a growth scene in the next chapter.

For some reason I also think there is gonna be, but I have a bad feelig abut it

this story si really good, you know?

[Mass Driver]

Wow I'm in weird moods recently. It's like you were talking about relatives of mine that are gone. You're writing like you Are Cam. You have to know how good this story is, don't you? You just have to...
Keep Writing.

I hope you had a Happy Thanksgiving. This story sure brings Family into perspective. Thanks.

Hugs;
MD

P.S. If I find your star, I'll point it out to you................

MD

[philat99]

I love your style! What a great story line - so human, dramatic, humorous - challenging me to wonder what direction you're going next!
Mike

Wow I am really enjoying this story, I decided to read the first chapter today and got hooked. The plot and storyline is amazing, and the connection between the brother's feels so real and powerful! Spencers muscle description is also really great and I love how early and how fast he's growing with muscle, I can't wait to see what happens next.

Please Write more! This is truly a great story

[collegebud]

Originally Posted by Daisuke

He pulled it back. ?How long have you??

Irritated, I snapped my fingers and opened my hand again.

His breath hitched. ?Is this?? He held up the flask. ?Is this in the story, too??

For the first time all night, he looked like he actually cared. As the warmth of the whiskey spread through my core and out to my limbs, I nodded, able to rein in my anger.

Spencer gave it back to me, and I returned it to my pocket. I?d probably need it again before the night was out, just like I needed it to get to sleep, to get to work, to get through work?

I scrubbed at my face with my hand. I was so tired.

?Cam. Please.?

Letting calm settle over my expression once more, I glanced up. ?All right.?

Wow. It took a surpisingly dark turn..

Perhaps I should read the prologue. I just started at chapter one.. was that a mistake?

We're only getting very small hints about the current day. I wish I knew their current ages, but I suspect they're over 21. For some reason, though, I get a strange feeling that Spencer is young. Like.. between 17 and 21. Maybe that's just a misreading.. Maybe that's answered in the prologue.. I don't know.

It's a pity that stories lately have contained less amiable characters (link included because the first entry has all four meanings that I had in mind). I suppose this is a good thing--I welcome the appearance of more complex and advanced character development--but I can't shake the thought that sometimes I just want a good growth fantasy.

All that being said, congratulations to Daisuke. You're becoming a great storyteller.

[Daisuke]

Originally Posted by collegebud

Perhaps I should read the prologue. I just started at chapter one.. was that a mistake?

Prologue is definitely important. I don't think I mention how old they are there, but it sets the darker tone for the story. You know something really bad happens to rip them apart when they get older.

Thanks to everyone who's commented. I'm really glad the story's been so well received.

PS-- After reading my own prologue, I went back to ch5 and edited out all of Cameron's apologies. lol.

[OnyxFaith]

I really like the style this is written in. The whole "fairy tale" feel... but the darkness in it definitely gives it an edge. It obviously made a big impression since I was able to read part 4 without going back and rereading everything before it.

[GoldfishBW]

Somehow I missed this story the first few chapters that were posted. I just read them all and it is quite good! Interesting characters and I like the way it is unfolding slowly. Looking forward to reading more! Thanks.

-Brad

[Otaru_grower]

Okay, I just read all of this story so far all the way through. Every word.

This is unlike any other story I've read here. The flashbacks are seamless. You have the whole rich boy story down, but it's not in a ridiculously over the top way. Very toned down, and weighted by a lack of sentiment, which is a very good thing.

The relationship here is very touching. I am shocked and intrigued by their adult selves. I want to know more about why Spencer is so in need of help, and how they became estranged. This entire story begs for more. Thank you for sharing it. It has just enough of an undertone of eroticism to keep it going and the bond is very heartfelt. Way to write a great story. Can't wait for more.