I.
Elwood was sitting on the steps when the chubby new kid approached. Elwood's hand-me-downs were too short, so his wrists and ankles stuck out and he looked like a dork. New kid didn't seem to care.
"What's your name?" the kid asked, sidling over and sitting down next to him.
"Elwood," he said.
"I'm Jake."
There was a pause. Elwood glanced over and saw that the kid—Jake—was fighting back tears. "Whatsamatter?"
"I ain't got parents anymore!" It burst out of him in a wail.
"Me neither," Elwood admitted. Nobody here did, but he wasn't sure how to explain that. Kid would figure it out soon enough anyway.
Jake brightened. "Hey, you got any comic books?"
"Nah." Elwood thought about it. "I read an issue of Superman once."
"Superman's the greatest! I've read all of 'em. In the last one, they told us what Luthor's first name is—and turns out him and Superman knew each other when they were kids."
"Huh." Seemed like he ought to say something else. "So what's his name?"
"Whose?"
"Luthor's."
"Oh. It's Lex." Jake said the word like it tasted good.
Elwood took that in.
"This kid down the street from me has all the Superman comics there are. He lets me read 'em if I make sure my hands are clean." There was a pause. "I guess I don't got the kid down the street anymore, either."
"You'll be all right," Elwood told him.
As if in return, Jake touched his arm. His eyes were excited, like Elwood's momma used to look sometimes in church.
"Let's be brothers," Jake said.
Elwood was ready to laugh, but the kid was so serious. You could tell how much he wanted it. Elwood couldn't say no, but he wasn't sure he wanted to say yes, either. So he stalled. "Brothers?"
"Yeah! You gotta have family. We could be family. Look out for each other."
It sounded like Jake was repeating something he'd heard somewhere before. It sounded pretty nice, though. And something in Jake's eyes made him feel important. "We'd need the same last name," Elwood pointed out.
Jake looked at the ground. "Oh. I didn't think of that."
"I got it," Elwood assured him. He wasn't sure why he wanted to do whatever it took to make the new kid happy, but he kind of did. They'd use his favorite word from when his momma was alive, the word that went with her record collection, the word that always made her smile. "Blues."
Jake looked up at him like he'd hung the moon. "Blues," he repeated, reverent.
II.
When Elwood was twelve he decided they should be blood brothers. It seemed like a cool thing to do. Plus, having the same blood would make them really family.
So they snuck downstairs after dinner one night and asked Curtis for a knife. He looked at them sidewise, and when they told him what they wanted it for, he laughed and laughed.
But Jake asked again, real nice, and Curtis went and got the jackknife he kept in his toolbox. He washed it off with whiskey, then handed it to Jake. Jake brought it back to Elwood.
Who held it for a second, stupidly, because he hadn't really thought much further than "let's be blood brothers." How were they supposed to do it? Did it matter? He decided to cut the heel of his left hand, and ran the knife edge over the skin.
It took a couple of tries, but suddenly his hand stung and there was blood all over the knife. He held his left hand in the air while Jake cut his own hand, and then they pressed their hands together.
Jake thought they should stay that way for a while so the blood would really mix up, so they sat across from each other at Curtis's table with their left hands clasped. Jake's hand was warmer than Elwood expected. He felt kind of tingly. Probably the blood loss.
Curtis put on a Muddy Waters record and told them stories about trumpet players and nightclubs while they waited for their blood to do its thing. Elwood liked those stories, and the music wasn't bad either. They listened to both sides of the record, and to half an Arthur Alexander one too.
Pulling their hands apart hurt.
III.
The little kids slept four to a room. They shared beds because there weren't enough but the Penguin wouldn't turn anybody away.
Elwood and Jake got their own room just after Elwood turned sixteen. Elwood figured it was because the Penguin didn't want them spreading their bad language. She said they had "unwholesome habits" and she assigned them extra Hail Marys every week just on principle.
Jake said he didn't care why they got the extra room, he was just glad to be away from the little shits. He didn't say it where the Penguin could hear him, though.
They were in an attic room where two beds barely fit, but at least they each had their own. The mattress sagged less with only one body on it, and at first it was great not having to worry about elbowing each other in the nose or the kidneys in the middle of the night.
Still, when there was shooting on the street Elwood climbed into bed with Jake like he always had. Jake didn't seem to mind; just shoved over and made room. And when there was a thunderstorm, Elwood woke up to Jake pressed against his armpit. Thunderstorms gave Jake nightmares.
Tonight, though, Elwood woke up for no reason he could figure to a bed full of Jake. More specifically, Jake with a boner, which was pressed against Elwood's hip.
Everybody got hard in the middle of the night. Sometimes he tried to wake up at two or three, once Jake was snoring gently from across the room, so he could whack off in private. And lots of times they had morning boners, but a morning boner was different: you got dressed, you ignored it, and it went away by the time you went to breakfast.
But there was something weird about being awake like this in the middle of the night with Jake's dick pressing against him. Especially when he kind of wanted to touch it.
As soon as he let the thought happen it filled his head. He wanted to know what it would feel like. And maybe Jake wouldn't even wake up. In the dark Elwood could almost believe he'd get away with it, it wouldn't matter, no one would know.
Carefully he rolled to his back and reached over to slide his palm along it. It was thick and warm under his hand, and he stroked it again.
"Nnng," Jake said, and Elwood froze. He was awake. Holy shit Jake was awake, what was he supposed to do? His hand, not paying any attention to his brain, squeezed and slid again.
"Christ," Jake said, his voice hoarse with sleep, and pushed up into Elwood's palm. "Oh, Jesus."
That didn't sound like "get your hands off me, you fucking faggot," so Elwood took a deep breath and kept going.
Later, just the memory of Jake's breathing getting faster and shallower—those quiet gasps and sighs—could turn Elwood's face hot and make his palms sweat.
IV.
Elwood felt bad that Jake's first day out of the clink hadn't been so good. The building falling in on them was kind of the icing on the cake.
The next day they found a room in another hotel for transients, basically just like the first one. It even had a bunch of the same guys in it, since they'd all been driven out of the one that fell down.
The walls of his new room were bare and dingy, and he missed his record player. Some of those Howlin' Wolf and Elmore James records used to belong to Curtis. It was depressing, so he turned off the light and the two of them sat on the bed and passed the whiskey bottle in the dark.
There was stuff he wanted to ask about Jake's time in Joliet, but he wasn't sure if he should.
Jake's voice floated over to him. "You got a girl?"
"Nope."
He took another swig, then gave the bottle back.
"Why not?"
Elwood shrugged, uncomfortable. "Too much trouble. And they always like you better anyway."
"Huh." Jake took another gulp, the whiskey sloshing in the glass.
"I'm gonna hit the sack," Elwood said, abruptly. He kicked off his shoes and folded his suit. He could hear Jake standing up and shimmying out of his own clothes.
It took a few minutes to squeeze themselves into the bed, but Elwood didn't want to sleep on the chair again and Jake didn't seem to be going anywhere.
"This was easier when we were kids." Sounded like Jake was smiling.
"Yeah."
Jake's hand moved over his stomach and Elwood held his breath. Maybe Jake was just trying to get comfortable...
Firm fingers gave him a tug and Elwood bit back a sigh. He had forgotten how good it was when somebody else did this to you.
A little ways in, Jake squirmed his way down the bed and yanked Elwood's briefs out of the way. He barely had time to register anticipation before his dick slid into his best friend's mouth.
"God," Elwood managed, and Jake chuckled around him. Oh. Oh, this was wet, and this was not going to last very long.
It was as good as singing together, with the whole band, in front of a whole room full of screaming fans. Elwood shuddered and bit his own hand.
Afterwards he could feel the smug look on Jake's face, even in the dark. It made him grin. Time to see if he could still make Jake moan.
V.
Elwood spent the ride to Joliet wondering how the guys were going to feel when they got all the news. The record contract was sweet, but they'd probably be pissed that he and Jake were in jail again.
Elwood's cellmate was a big guy named Ed. Ed was about his height but had maybe a hundred pounds on him. He grunted when the C.O. let Elwood in, then didn't say another word all afternoon, just did pushups and read a girlie magazine.
All day he told himself the story of how they'd gotten the Penguin's money in to the assessors on time, making the car chase more spectacular every time he remembered it, because it made him feel good and it helped him forget where he was and how long he was gonna be there.
Just before dinner, the C.O. came and banged on the door of his cell. "Number 509873!"
It took Elwood a second to remember that that was him. "Yeah?"
"Get your things." The C.O. jerked his nightstick down the hall. "You're moving."
Elwood picked up his bundle of uniforms and followed the guy out of the cell, down the metal hallway, and into cellblock B. Into Jake's cell.
"Thanks, man," Jake said to the guard, shaking his hand. Maybe he was slipping him something.
The guard laughed. "Welcome back to Joliet," he said to Jake, then locked the door and walked out.
It was a relief to be out of Ed's cell, but Elwood wasn't sure how to say that. He put his things down and just stood there, awkward. On top of all the things he'd wanted to ask Jake about Joliet, a new question crowded everything else out: would Jake be different in here? Would they be different?
"Sorry you're back in," he said, finally.
Jake shrugged. "Could be worse. Three squares."
There was a pause.
"Besides, at least this time I got company." Jake quirked a half-smile at him, and suddenly Elwood didn't feel quite so bad.
"True."
"We got time for some checkers before lights out." Jake reached under his mattress and pulled out a paper board and a handful of little discs. "C'mon."
They sat on Jake's bed and Elwood helped him set up the board. "I'm gonna kick your ass," he said, suddenly brave.
Jake grinned at him and made the first move.
The End