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The morning after the memorial service required coffee. Branch felt like a zombie when he dragged himself out of bed and downstairs to Bruce's kitchen. He had the vague feeling that something should have happened and didn't and it was somehow his fault.
Floyd padded next to him, eyes squinting against the morning light. He didn't ask where they were going or why, just got out of bed when Branch did. He looked like even more of a zombie than Branch felt.
Bruce was already in the kitchen. He laughed when he saw them. “You two look well rested,” he teased.
“Coffee,” Branch groaned. He was normally a morning person but not when he was hungover.
“I'm making a pot now,” Bruce promised. “Go get yourselves mugs. They're in the cupboard next to Floyd.”
Floyd leaned against a counter, head lolling, eyes closed. He looked asleep on his feet but at the mention of coffee, Floyd turned around and opened the cupboard. Floyd reached for one but his fingers didn't quite make it. He stood on his tip toes, leaning his weight on the counter below the cupboard for leverage. His fingertips almost brushed the mug. Floyd growled under his breath.
Branch and Bruce watched this for a few moments until Bruce nudged Branch. He made a face that clearly said, ‘go help your brother.’
Branch huffed. He'd been busy staring at Floyd's calves. Branch shuffled over, pressed himself against Floyd's back. He planted one hand on Floyd's hip for stability and reached with the other one for mugs. Branch hooked a finger in the handles of two mugs and got them down. Once they were safe on the counter, Branch kissed Floyd's ear. It was a quick kiss out of Bruce's sight and it made Branch tingle with excitement.
Way to stick to your convictions, Branch, he scolded himself and suddenly remembered exactly what went down last night…or didn't go down last night. His feelings on the matter, though valid, felt like a mistake.
Floyd dropped down from his tiptoes. He twisted around so that his back was to the counter and looked up at Branch. The expression he wore on his face was…not happy. Floyd looked puzzled and annoyed all at once.
“Um,” Branch said, wondering if he overstepped. Maybe if romance was off the table, Floyd didn't want Branch kissing his ears. Maybe he was mad at Branch.
Floyd reached up with one hand and patted Branch's head. The furrow between his eyebrows deepened.
“Floyd?”
Floyd patted Branch's head again.
Branch glanced at Bruce in question.
Bruce shrugged. “Floyd, you okay there?”
Floyd pursed his lips. “No, I'm not okay, Bruce.” He sounded genuinely distressed. “Branch is taller than me! Who let this happen?!”
Bruce burst into laughter.
Branch tried to smother his laughter behind his hand. It didn't work.
“It is not funny. I cannot be the shortest one in the family. I refuse,” Floyd protested.
“I don't think you have a choice,” Branch replied.
“Looks like you'll have to break out your old heels, Floyd. I'll bet John has them lying around somewhere,” Bruce said and laughed harder.
“They're boots!” Floyd hissed. He looked positively furious, which was adorable.
“With four inch heels on them,” Bruce cackled.
Branch wiped tears from his eyes. “I don't remember boots.”
“They were before your time,” Floyd replied. His ears turned red with a blush.
“What was before your time?” Clay asked, walking into the kitchen. He didn't look even remotely hungover and he had zero problems reaching over both Branch and Floyd for a mug.
“Floyd's heels,” Bruce snickered. He poured Clay a cup of coffee.
Clay chuckled. “I remember those. Floyd used to wear them all the time.”
“Why'd you stop?” Branch asked. He took their mugs to Bruce for coffee.
Floyd sighed. “It’s complicated.” He took his mug from Branch and blew on the coffee.
“Probably got tired of stripping down to his boots and collar on stage,” Clay muttered.
“You used to strip on stage?” Branch asked, shocked and unsure why exactly he was shocked. If he really thought about it, it made sense.
“We all did,” Bruce said. “John Dory wanted to sell our sex appeal. Clay and I were the only ones who kept it up.”
“That's not true. When we broke up, I stopped stripping down to my underwear in public,” Clay corrected.
Branch looked to Floyd.
Floyd sighed again. “We're all only a few years apart.” He gestured to himself, Clay, and Bruce. “When your dad announced that he and mom had an egg, well, you were just a baby.”
“I didn't have to join the band?” Branch offered. He would have hated not being part of BroZone but that was an option.
Bruce shook his head. “John Dory wouldn't let you not be in the band.” Something about the way he said that made Branch wonder if any of them ever wanted to be in the band at all.
“Yeah so we took the show from adults only to kid-friendly,” Clay added, making a face. “Well, sort of.” He sipped his coffee. “Temporarily.”
“Temporarily?” Branch asked.
None of them said anything.
Floyd hid behind his bangs.
Bruce stared into his coffee.
Clay picked at his sweater romper.
“Guys,” Branch said, annoyed that they were hiding things from him. And still hungover. “Fine. I'll just go ask John Dory.” He took his mug and made for the exit.
“No!” Three voices shouted and suddenly there were three hands stopping Branch from leaving.
Branch turned around, nearly spilling his coffee. “Then tell me!”
“When you were old enough, John was going to have you strip on stage with us,” Floyd said. His eyes were wide.
“We aren't sure what your gimmick was going to be,” Bruce chimed in. “Never really got that far.” He gave a nervous chuckle.
Branch thought about how at the first opportunity, John Dory had put him back in a diaper. “I do,” Branch said. “I was going to be the baby.”
No one said anything.
Looking at his brothers, Branch realized they were all incredibly nervous. They'd spoken of stripping fondly enough - even Clay didn't really seem to mind that part aside from the funderwear being uncomfortable - but there was still a weird tension in the air. Branch looked at each of them in turn and it finally clicked into place that they were worried how he would take the revelation.
There were all kinds of dancing, all kinds of songs to sing. Branch never judged someone for their music or their moves. He wasn't about to judge his brothers for being more risque than he initially thought they were.
A slow smirk spread across Branch’s face. “I'm not the smallest one anymore though, so I guess Floyd will have to be the baby and I'll wear the heels.”
His joke made the tension dissipate instantly. They let out their collective breaths and laughed.
“Nah, I think Floyd still needs his heels,” Bruce joked, elbowing Floyd.
Floyd huffed.
Branch, Bruce, and Clay laughed.
“Don't laugh at me, I'm sensitive,” Floyd complained. He pouted at them.
This only made Bruce and Clay laugh harder.
Branch put an arm around Floyd's shoulders and kissed his temple. He was too cute not to kiss. “Did you miss having brothers?” he teased.
Floyd smiled up at Branch, his expression going soft and warm. He rested his head against Branch's shoulder. “Yeah. I did.”