Chapter 16

Arsen

Bang!Bang! Bang!

The aggressive thumping on the studio door was startling. Not because it was loud but because no one had ever knocked before. It was common knowledge that you didn’t bother the DJ while he was on air.

So obviously, whoever was beating on the door lacked common sense.

Snagging the headphones off my head, I dropped them on the panel in front of me, hit a few buttons to make sure the booth was muted, and then yanked open the door.

“If you moved any slower, I was gonna have to call the coroner’s office to come get your corpse.” He scowled from the other side.

“Kruger,” I said, surprised to see him but not surprised he was the one with zero common sense. “What are you doing here?”

Pushing past, he invited himself in. “Stacking the odds in my favor.”

What?“Shouldn’t you be unpacking boxes?”

“We need to talk.”

Closing the studio door, I turned to face him. “If you got something to say, say it.”

“There’s something I need to do first.”

I pursed my lips, regarding him for a long second. Then I stepped forward and angled my face toward him. “Go ahead.”

“Maybe I wanted to hit the other side,” he bellowed.

I shrugged and turned my face. “You better watch the lip rings. Matthew likes them.”

The fist he was making went slack. “Fuck.” He made a face. “You were just gonna let me nail you?”

I’d have given him one hit. “Figured you needed to get it out of your system.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s your deal, Arsen?”

“My deal?”

“You know what I’m asking. With Prism.”

“Why’s it any of your business?”

I never would have pegged Kruger as a hothead. He was a swim jock who spit sarcastic one-liners like it was his hobby. The only time I’d ever seen him be confrontational was after Jess’s accident. But in the past few days, his sarcasm bordered on asshole, and I found myself up against the studio door.

“If you plan on dating my brother, you’d better get real comfortable real fucking quick with me being all up in your business.”

Was I supposed to be intimidated? Because I wasn’t. He could snap and snarl at me all he wanted. Hell, he could even throw some punches. Ben Kruger did not scare me. To be honest, not much did. I was raised by an arrogant man who handed out consequences like people at the grocery store handed out coupons.

I could take care of myself. And at the risk of sounding completely douchey, if there was a problem I couldn’t deal with on my own, I could throw money at it.

However… Just because I wasn’t intimidated didn’t mean I wasn’t impressed.

“I’m glad he’s had you.”

“Excuse me?” he said, still pinning me to the door.

Please note I was allowing him to do so.

“You’ve been a good friend to Matthew.”

Kruger’s face darkened, and he shoved away from me. “I don’t like your condescending tone, asshole. And just so we’re clear, I’m not going anywhere. Prism is my family. For life.”

A light flashed on the panel across the room, and I crossed the small space to grab the headphones and fit them over my head. Kruger started to say something, but I silenced him with a slash of my hand. Flipping a switch, I leaned into the large mic.

“And that was the latest from pop sensation Ten. I’ll say the artist definitely gave one hundred and ten percent of his efforts, and that EDM mix in the chorus line was dope. I’d love to know your thoughts on this latest track, so drop Triple A a line on social and tell me what’s up. Since we’re coming up on the top of my last hour in the booth tonight, I’m gonna unpack another set of bangers before signing off, so if you’re powering through a study session, driving home after a long day, or maybe want out of your own head for a while, here’s your chance.” I paused, hitting a few more buttons. “Starting it off with a remix from yours truly, featuring a mashup of Assassin Elms and The Widower.”

After cuing up the playlist and making sure the panel settings were the way they should be, I pulled the headphones off and turned to Kruger. “I have about fifteen minutes before I have to be on air again.”

His eyes strayed around the small booth, taking in the sound panels, equipment, and posters that had been here since I’d started DJing two years ago. “Pretty cool place,” he said grudgingly.

“You never had a problem with me before,” I pointed out.

“That was before you got him arrested.”

“I didn’t get him arrested.”

“He’s been different since that night.”

Concern drew my brows down, and I stepped away from the panel toward Kruger. “Different how?”

Kruger looked at me, and I could practically hear him measure and weigh every word he thought about saying. His hesitation brought a tidal wave of fury over me. The idea that he would keep anything about Matthew from me was frankly unacceptable.

“You can’t say something like that to me and then slam your usually flappy lips shut.”

He gave me a dry look but didn’t acknowledge the insult. “How much do you know about my brother?”

Yes, I noticed the mybrother comment and the ownership it implied.

“I know about the misophonia. The tinnitus. The sensory issues and anxiety.” I laid it out. “I also know about the panic attacks.”

Kruger’s two-toned eyes widened. As unintimidated as I was by him, being watched by one green eye and one brown one could be unsettling. “He told you about all of that?” Then he held up his hand, seemingly offended. “He told you he had sensory issues?”

“Strong likes and dislikes.” I corrected him.

He nodded once. “That’s more like it.”

“Technically, he didn’t tell me about the panic attacks, but he had one.” Ormore. “That night in jail.”

“He punched a cop that night too,” Kruger said, watching me carefully.

“Yeah, I know he has aggression issues.”

Kruger lifted his chin in challenge. “And what if he loses it and clobbers you?”

A whole host of reactions unleashed in me at that unexpected question. I didn’t know which one to react to first. “Has he ever hit you?” I heard myself ask.

“A long time ago,” Kruger replied but instantly went into defense mode. “But it wasn’t his fault. It was a bad situation. I got in his way…”

“I’m not blaming him.”

“Yeah? You’d be the first.”

“Does he, ah, do this often?” I asked, not sure how to phrase it.

“Throw punches?” Kruger went right to it. “Nah. The last few years, he’s been better at regulating his emotions.”

“You mean his reactions to outside auditory stimuli that he has no control over.”

Kruger blinked. “Yeah. That.” Then, “How much do you know about misophonia?”

“The minimum,” I answered truthfully. But that was going to change. I was about to be more informed than even most doctors.

“Can I ask you something?”

He shrugged. “You can ask. Might not answer.”

Fair enough. “Is he autistic?”

“Bro. Don’t you know the PC term is neurodivergent?”

“I also know that neurodivergent and on the spectrum are terminology that refers to several diagnosed disorders, and I am asking you specifically about one thing in relation to your brother. I’m trying my best not to be a dick about it.”

Kruger studied me a moment. “He’s never been diagnosed.”

“Why?”

Kruger scratched his jaw. “Because he refused testing.”

I started to ask why again, but Kruger made a sound. “If you want to know about that, you can ask him.”

I nodded.

“I can tell you that misophonia and tinnitus are not yet considered to be on the spectrum even if they do have similarities.”

“Right,” I said.

“Does it matter?” he asked, a hard edge in his tone.

“If he’s on the spectrum or not? Diagnosed or not?” I questioned but didn’t give him time to reply. “No. It doesn’t matter.”

“Then why ask?”

“Because I want every detail. I want to know everything when it comes to him. And asking you seemed kinder.”

“You can’t avoid the hard stuff with him. He comes with hard stuff.”

I smirked. “I hope so.”

“Bro. Did your mom get fined for littering when she dropped you off for school?”

“Do you have a book filled with bad one-liners?” I asked.

“That’s what Google’s for.”

I got back to the subject at hand. “What’s the deal with his parents?”

The air around Kruger changed distinctly, and shutters seemed to drop over his green and brown eyes. If I thought he’d been protective before, I was wrong. This was different… This was icy.

“Why would you ask me about them?” His voice was monotone.

“Because when I asked him, he didn’t take it well.”

“This is what I’m talking about,” Kruger said almost to himself. “I never should have encouraged his little crush on you. I should have listened to him?—”

He was so busy berating himself that he didn’t even see me move in and didn’t notice my hands were on his shoulders until I gave his body a shake. “Kruger.”

“What?”

“Did you just say he had a crush on me?” An unfamiliar flutter filled my core, the jittery sensation making me impatient.

“So?”

“So for how long?”

His eyes did that closed-off thing again.

“For a while?” I pressed.

He threw his arms out, dislodging the hold I had on his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter.” He paced away. “Because he was right. Since the second he did more than just stare at you, he’s been struggling hard.”

“And you don’t think getting arrested and moving are the reasons?” I asked. “You think this is all me?”

“They think I’m out getting milk,” he said, a pained expression on his face.

“Better remember to bring home a gallon,” I replied, following his little detour with ease.

“He wants to come out to our friends.”

A ripple of surprise shot through me. “What?”

“Yeah. For years, he hasn’t wanted anyone to know he’s gay. Or about his disabilities. He wants to be unproblematic AF.” Kruger glanced at me, a little humor sparking in his eyes. “Between us, bro? He’s like a math book. Filled with problems.”

My lips twitched.

“But I love him,” Kruger deadpanned. Just dropped the L-word right there, confident AF. “He’s my brother. My family. My wife’s favorite.”

I didn’t bother to point out that he and Jess weren’t married. We were bonding.

“Matthew Prism is a whole package, Arsen. And I’m part of it. I won’t ever go away. I’ll be watching you so hard you’re going to have a wedgie. Get comfortable with it because it’s permanent. If you can’t handle that, then you better walk right now.”

“Good thing I like math.”

Kruger swallowed. “You can’t just like math. You have to love math. You have to commit to the numbers because they are infinite.”

Matthewislikenumbers. Infinite.

“I feel kinda bad I thought you were a moron,” I told him.

He made a rude sound. “I’m asking you—no, I’m telling you. If you aren’t serious about Prism, if you aren’t all in—I’m talking endgame—then you gotta go. I know it’s not fair for me to come in here like this, but I don’t give a shit about your comfort. I only care about his. I know it’s only been a few days, but he’s already looking at you. He’s already thinking about rearranging his life, the one he built to protect himself. So if all you’re thinking about is some good times or a casual fling, this ain’t the place. If you hurt him…” He blew out a breath and then hit me with a cold stare. “If you hurt my brother, then I’m gonna hurt you.”

I didn’t hear his threat even though I knew without a doubt it was real. All I heard was that Prism was thinking about rearranging his life. For me. That he wanted to come out to his friends. That whatever he told Kruger about me was enough to send him “out for milk” and to my studio door.

If I hadn’t already fallen all at once, I would have again. Hell, maybe I did. Maybe this was my life now. Falling over and over for a man who spent most of his time locked in his comfort zone but was suddenly willing to struggle through discomfort to make room for me.

I would rather cut off my own arm than hurt him. The reply swirled around in my head, mixing with the overwhelming feelings assaulting me just because Kruger said Matthew wanted me. I didn’t say it out loud, though, because it sounded contrived and meaningless even if it was wholeheartedly true.

Kruger was watching me, waiting for a reply he could judge against his standards. Standards that were much higher than I expected. Goodonhim.

I cleared my throat. “A few days isn’t very long,” I said honestly, deciding to give him the transparency he’d given me. “But with him, time seems irrelevant. I’m not going to make some grand declaration to you because those words are for him. But I can tell you there is nothing casual in how I feel about Matthew. If he’s thinking about rearranging his life for me, then I’ll fit myself into any shape he creates.”

I know I told him we didn’t have to fit to belong, but having things fit seemed to be important to him. And if us “fitting” together meant that much, I would absolutely saw myself up so he could arrange the pieces.

“You sure you’re ready for that?” he asked, watching me closely.

“Ready to put his comfort above mine?” I mused. “You think I would put up with your mouth if I wasn’t?”

“Please.” He scoffed. “I’m delightful.”

“The only delightful thing about you is when you leave the room.”

“Bro. Good one.”

I smiled. “So what about you?”

“Me?”

“You gonna accept that you aren’t the only one in Matthew’s life now?”

“I’m not his only,” he muttered.

I caught his eye. “You know what I mean.” And I knew jealousy when I saw it.

“I got room for more friends,” he replied. “As long as you treat P good.”

I nodded. “So we good, bro?” These guys seemed to like the B-word a whole lot around here. Guess I’d better get used to that too.

“Yeah, bro. We’re good.” Kruger held out his fist, and I smashed mine against it. “I’ll let you get back to work. I gotta go buy some milk.”

I laughed under my breath.

On his way to the door, he turned. “Hey. What kinda people you got in your life?”

I tilted my head. “Why?”

“Because those people are gonna be around P, and if they aren’t quality?—”

“They won’t be around him,” I deadpanned.

“You’re willing to cut people off?”

“I’m willing to do whatever I need to do to protect him.”

“Good answer,” Kruger said and continued to the door.

I glanced at the panel, noting I had roughly two minutes. “Kruger.”

Once again, he turned back.

“I respect that you came here. I respect you trying to protect him. I’m glad he has you. But just so we’re clear, you don’t call the shots when it comes to my relationship with Matthew. He’s your brother, but I’m going to make him my everything.” I paused. “And if you call him Matthew again, I’ll throw that punch you didn’t.”

“All right, bro. Give it your best shot,” Kruger replied, stabbing two fingers at his eyes, then jabbing them at me, reminding me he would be watching.

He let himself out of the studio, and I went back to work.

Goaheadandwatch, bro. I’ll show you how it’s done.