Too Sweet Pt. 04

Author's Note - Wow! You made it! This is the fourth part of a series. Feel free to skim for sexy bits, but I don't think it makes for a good read without the first three parts.

Trigger warnings - discussions of domestic violence (not perpetrated by any main character), self harm, substance abuse, suicidal ideation, negative self talk, and mental illness. I try to handle these topics with care, but please remember that these are characters talking about themselves. They are not always going to be as careful with their language as I would be talking about mental illness in any other context. If you find any of it too hard to read, please click off and know I have no hard feelings <3

If you are or someone you know is struggling call or text 988 for the Suicide Lifeline in the US. For other countries, dial your local emergency number for local resources. Take care of yourselves!

11

Teddy

My mom was coldly compliant when I reasserted my boundaries. Absolutely no phone contact with the consequence of losing email contact if she tried again. Kit and I traded phones back at the end of the week. Ethan hadn't called again, but I was still on edge.

"Have you thought about changing your number?" I suggested again.

Kit looked up from where she was sitting on my bed doodling while I read beside her. She sighed and closed her sketchbook.

"It feels like letting him win if I make such a big change for him," she said quietly.

"I mean, you get some vile texts from the rest of your 'do not answer' collection, too " I pointed out. "Could be nice to start over?"

"Hm, might be," she said slowly. "Do you really want to get on the same phone plan?"

"Sure," I said and pounced on her to wrap her in my arms. Her surprised laughter felt bubbly and bright.

"Ok. But I'm doing it to save money. I'm not running from Ethan," she said firmly and let me put her on top of me so her weight rested mostly on my chest. She giggled softly and rubbed her cheek against my tee shirt.

"Sure, sounds like a responsible decision," I agreed. I tugged her hair out of the tidy braid and let it spill over us. She chuckled and flicked it off her face. "So, say someone wanted to ask you something, and it was, like, really important to get it right. Would you say they would have better luck on a fancy date or somewhere more familiar?"

"I'd say that person will have pretty good luck no matter where they take me," Kit said with her face still squished into my chest. "But I really appreciate something chosen just for me more than something expensive. It means more when someone knows what I like. Anyone can spend money."

"Got it, got it," I said thoughtfully. "And, like, private, right? I don't need a Jumbotron?"

"Right, no Jumbotron," she answered. "Just you and me."

"Good, that was my guess, but, um, I messed it up twice already," I pointed out.

"You didn't mess up anything, querido," she murmured against me. "We have to find a new place unless you're planning on moving into my shoebox."

"Not interested in moving in with the boys?" I teased her. "Yeah, we should probably start looking. I would prefer to rent a house over an apartment, but you like to live downtown."

"There are neighborhoods in walking distance to downtown," she pointed out. "Or that cute new development over on Broad might have some rentals."

"What if we bought a house in that cute new development?" I suggested.

"Teddy, I'm a barista," she pointed out flatly. "I don't have a down payment and I probably don't qualify for a mortgage."

"Yeah, but I'm a full time industrial mechanic and my rent has been almost nothing for ten years. I have a down payment. And, after you say yes to that question I need to ask you, that will be your down payment, too," I said. "The two of us together would definitely qualify."

"You really go all in, huh?" Kit whispered into my shirt. "You really mean it. You actually bought me a ring."

"Did you think I was joking?" I asked her quietly. "That would be such a cruel joke."

"I'm just having a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that anyone would want to make getting away from me a paperwork kind of situation," she said dryly. "I have a lot of red flags."

"I'm all in, Kit. I'll be all in even if you say no, but I don't think that's going to happen," I told her. It hurt to hear that she still couldn't see her own value. "I'm not going anywhere unless you send me away."

"I love you," she whispered. "I can't send you away. I'm still just so afraid that I'm going to hurt you one day."

"You won't," I reassured her. "Let me prove it by sticking around forever."

Kit shivered against me, but she didn't answer.

"¿Aye, diosa?" I stroked her hair and felt her tremble. "¿Puedo preguntarte algo?"

"Me puedes preguntar lo que sea."

I gently moved her off of me so I could see her face. She blinked at me and pushed her hair back behind her shoulders.

"Am I asking for too much? Buying a house together?" I asked her. I tried to sound neutral. She was hard to read at the moment.

"It's not asking too much," she finally smiled at me. "I would love that. I just can't contribute nearly as much as you can. I wasn't smart and responsible for the past ten years. I've been an emotional burden in plenty of relationships. I don't want to be a financial one for you."

"That's not how it works," I said and took her hands in mine. "We'll both contribute what we can, but there's so much more to making a home than money."

"Let's look at it," she said slowly, but her smile brightened. "We can go talk to the bank and see if we can even afford it."

"Una casita y mi amor," I said and grinned at her. "Es todo lo que puedo pedir."

Kit climbed back into my arms and settled herself on top of me with a happy sigh.

"Una casita con un, um, estudio de arte," she said dreamily. "Con tus paintings en las paredes. Lo siento, no se como decir 'paintings'."

"Pinturas," I supplied. "Y con tus pinturas en las paredes, también."

"Hmm, maybe," Kit said. "Yours are better."

"We can agree to disagree."

...

Kit

The Tavern didn't only do rock shows. It was a normal bar with normal bar things, too. All of Teddy's friends talked him into trivia night there and he convinced me to go. As much as I liked the Tavern, I preferred when there was a band and I wouldn't be expected to talk so much.

We did pretty well. Everyone had their niche. Ira on pop music, Foster covered sports and history, Ben knew every movie and TV question, and Teddy cleaned up on the rock music and culture questions. I contributed a little, but I mostly drank my one beer and listened.

Mike popped into the booth next to me about halfway through with a big grin for everyone at the table. Ira sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Did someone invite you, Mike?" Ira said pointedly. Mike grinned cheerily and tossed an arm around my shoulders.

"My new buddy Kit here will welcome me to the table, right?" He turned all attention at the table on me. Teddy glared at him.

"Don't be an asshole to Kit," he warned.

"I'm not!" Mike laughed. "I'm being an asshole to Ira." Teddy scoffed and pushed Mike's arm off me. "I need to talk to you, Smokey. Come here."

Mike hopped up and jerked his head for Teddy to follow. Teddy sighed and went along.

"Smokey?" I asked the table.

"Only you can prevent forest fires," Ben said, pitching his voice low.

"Oh. A bear. Got it," I laughed.

...

Teddy

"I found your guy," Mike told me when we got outside of the bar. He handed me his phone with a screenshot of a Fetlife profile pulled up. "Ethan Webber. He's bad news, man. He got kicked out of basically everywhere for being a dangerous asshole. He's apparently still hanging around that bar out on 70. Other than that, seems like he's not really on the scene anymore. This guy is bothering Kit?"

"Yeah," I said and squinted at the profile. It was exactly what I expected as far as interests, but the guy looked nothing like how Kit talked about him.

"Kit warned me that he was big," I said because I didn't know what else to say. Mike arched an eyebrow at me.

"Most people probably look big to her," Mike pointed out. "She's, what, five nothing in her docs?"

Right. That made sense. Kit likely considered most men to be a possible physical threat including this short side of average, lanky guy with his boring blue polo and no discernable muscle.

"What are you planning to do about this guy?" Mike pressed.

"Right now, just trying to get rid of any way he can contact her. Thanks, man." I handed his phone back after texting the screenshot to myself.

Mike nodded and narrowed his eyes. "Really, watch out for this guy. He's hurt a lot of women on the scene. Whatever he wants with Kit can't be good. He'll hurt her, too."

"He already did," I said quietly. "I'm trying to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Ah," Mike winced. "Fucker."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"You, me, and Foster can go talk to him," Mike suggested. "Ben and Ira, too. Hell, we can take the whole punk scene if I ask around."

"Kit doesn't want that," I told him. "Just, if you notice him around the coffee shop or something, let me know?"

"Yeah, ok," Mike said, but he still looked disturbed. "Hey, um, on a different subject, I'm not trying to get back together with you. I mean, I was originally, but I'm not anymore."

"Aw, did you finally fall out of lust?" I snickered. "I'm getting old. The boys don't chase me anymore."

"No," Mike rolled his eyes, "I'm backing off because I like Kit. She's fucking cool."

"Yeah, I know she is," I agreed.

"It sucks to lose you to the straights," Mike added. "The hot bi guys always end up hetero long term."

"Yeah, that's another reason you need to back off me," I said irritably. "You never gave a crap about who I am. I'm still queer. Kit is too. I wasn't gay when I was with you and I'm not straight when I'm with her."

"Hm, right," Mike said slowly. "Sorry. I'll work on that."

"You coming back in? We still have half the game left," I offered.

"Nah, I'm out. Your friends fucking hate me," Mike said and shrugged. "If it's not the consequences of my own actions, I don't know what it is."

"Maybe be nicer? Stop baiting Ira and hitting on Ben," I suggested.

"Eesh. Sounds boring. See ya!"

"Everything ok?" Kit when I came back without Mike. I leaned in close to talk to her.

"Mike found that guy. Just filling me in," I said. She frowned and nodded.

"Hey, Ted! It's arts and culture, listen up!" Ben interrupted whatever Kit might have said in reply. The question wasn't in my wheelhouse though. It was about postmodernism, firmly outside of my niche of pretty watercolors or smudged oils.

Kit took the paper from Ben and wrote out, 'Fountain' by Marcel Duchamp. Ben squinted at it and then at her.

"Are you sure? If we put double points on this, we'll be way ahead. Doesn't look like anyone else in the room knows," he asked her.

"I'm 100% sure. It's one of his Readymades. He signed it 'R. Mutt' and left it outside the door of an art museum," she said.

Ben grinned at her and hopped up to turn in the paper. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close, where she fit perfectly against my side. My brilliant, beautiful Kit.

...

Kit

My apartment was a lot less comfortable than Teddy's house, but it was often quieter there. It would definitely be quieter there after trivia night when all the guys went back to the house to game, so Teddy and I walked to my place in the damp, cold night air.

"I need a shower," I said as soon as we got in. "I smell like the next table over's cigarettes." Teddy sniffed his shirt and agreed.

He was entirely too big for my bathroom. We didn't even bother trying to shower together in the joke of a tiny box I used to get clean. It fit me well enough, but Teddy found it nearly impossible to even wash his hair in there.

I found him stretched out on my bed in his boxers reading my copy of The Low, Low Woods when I finished.

"Oh, I love that book," I told him.

"The art is really interesting," he said, flipping through it thoughtfully. "I don't usually go for horror, though."

"Horror comics have some of the most interesting art," I told him. "I have a bunch if you're interested. Uzumaki is a real ride."

"Hm, maybe," Teddy shrugged and set the book aside to look at me. He grinned wolfishly when he realized I was wearing just a tank top and panties with my hair still loose down my back. "Come here, let me hold you."

I bounced into his lap and wrapped my limbs around him. He smelled like my soap and his own skin. I sighed happily.

"Aye, diosa," he murmured in my ear. "¿Sabes lo que amo de ti?"

"¿Mi culo?" I giggled and wiggled my butt against him. Teddy groaned a little and laughed.

"Yes, but do you know what else?" he asked, but he didn't wait for an answer. "I love how you put men in their place without a second thought. I love how you jump to help people. I love the way you smile when you make coffee. I love that you learned Spanish for me."

"I kind of already knew Spanish," I reminded him.

"I don't love how you won't take a compliment," he purred against my hair. "But I love that you pull the most ridiculous art facts out of nowhere and how you take care of me. I love that you let me take care of you even though you definitely don't need me to do that."

"Teddy, why are you buttering me up?" I laughed. "I was ready to go the second you took off your shirt."

"I just want you to know how much I love you and how many good things you deserve," Teddy said softly. "Because I need you to love yourself enough to let something good happen."

I pulled back to look at him, trying to figure out what he was talking about. He grinned hopefully at me and handed me a little velvet box.

"I thought about so many ways to do this, but it always came down to just us together," he explained. He flipped the lid up to show me a delicate silver band carved like a twisting vine with a black gem sitting up on delicate prongs shaped like the tiniest leaves. "They tried to sell me big, flashy rings. I picked this because it's beautiful and a little delicate, but unexpectedly edgy. You have to pay attention to it to really see how special it is. Like you."

I breathed a shaky sound that wasn't a word and then laughed at myself. I knew this was coming. Why was I being such an idiot?

"It's beautiful," I agreed in a croak.

Teddy took the ring out of the box and tilted it in the light to show me the inside of the band where the words Mi Diosa were engraved.

"An offering to my goddess," he chuckled. "Will you marry me?"

I nodded, but words weren't happening. I looked up at Teddy and hoped he could understand what I meant from my eyes. He smirked at me and drew me in for a kiss with just his fingers on my jaw.

"Diosa," he whispered into my lips. "Necesito escucharlo. ¿Quieres casarte conmigo?"

"Yes," I managed. I could barely hear it myself. I cleared my throat and tried again a little louder. Teddy grinned against my mouth. He slipped the ring on my finger and held my hand out to admire it.

"Perfecto," he said proudly.

...

As expected, Mom couldn't get over Teddy's painting. It was really beautiful with his signature delicate ink lines setting off subtly complex watercolors. Mom immediately held the unframed canvas up to the wall next to my painting and exclaimed happily about how well the paintings went together.

She was overselling mine, but Teddy had been very intentional with his colors and composition. It turned the two pieces into a really interesting mirror of the same subject, mine loud and bright, his soft and elegant.

Mom was chattering about getting Teddy's painting framed and asking his opinion. Teddy just shrugged and suggested she match the frame that mine was in. It suddenly occurred to me that Teddy never framed anything. He just tacked his paintings up on the wall like cheap posters. That felt a little criminal now that I thought about it.

I went to the kitchen to help cook. No matter what time we showed up on Thanksgiving, that was inevitable. I set the tray of empanadas that Teddy made on the counter among the finished dishes and started filling deviled eggs.

"Oh? What are these?" Mom asked, looking at the dish we brought.

"Empanadas. Those are beef," I told her. "Teddy has the week off and he loves to cook, so we reap the benefits."

"Is Teddy, um, Spanish?" Mom asked. I didn't let her see me roll my eyes.

"Teddy is Mexican. He's Latinx," I supplied.

"So, Teddy is short for...?"

"Nothing. His name is Behr. Teddy is a nickname."

"Then he is Robert and Marisol's son," Mom concluded. I felt my stomach drop.

"Don't ask him about his family," I started quietly, but Mom stopped me with one hand up.

"I know what the Caspers did to their son. I'm not going to mention them," she said softly. "He's such a sweet young man. I really like him."

"Thanks, Mom. I like him too."

"Even if his name is Teddy Behr," she added with a grin. I laughed and let the tension go. "Are you going to tell us about that?" she asked, pointing at my hand.

I looked down at the stunning little ring and swallowed hard. The whole point of coming here was to reconnect. I had to be willing to open up a little.

"Turns out he likes me, too," I said. I sounded dry and strangled. Come on, Kit. This was supposed to be good news! I bit down on the inside of my lip and tasted a little blood. Hm. Not one of the coping strategies I was supposed to be using. "I need Teddy with me to do this," I whispered.

"You need your boyfriend to talk to your mother?" she said with a sharp inhale. I gritted my teeth and dug my nails into my palm behind my back. I was already enforcing boundaries. I couldn't be expected to use good coping tools at the same time, right?

"This is his news, too," I said tightly.

I didn't wait for her to agree. I went to the living room where my dad had apparently forced Teddy to watch the Macy's Parade. Teddy had a good natured smile, but he looked bored. I scooted onto the couch next to him, so close I was nearly in his lap. He blinked at me in surprise for a moment before I saw worry in those deep ocean eyes. He took my hands and ran his fingers over my palms with a little frown when his fingertips found the indentations from my nails.

"¿Estás bien, beautiful?" he said softly. "Pensé que habías dejado de hacer eso."

"No comprendo," I said, shaking my head. I couldn't parse the second sentence at all.

"Esto. ¿Qué pasó?" Teddy said and tapped the marks on my palms. I shrugged.

"Ayúdame a decirles. No se como. Mi madre ya está enojada conmigo." I tried to speak normally, but it came out as a whiney whisper.

"Kit, you speak Spanish?" my dad asked in confusion.

"Not really," I answered him, but I was still looking at Teddy.

"She's learning for me," Teddy said fondly. He stroked my hands and smiled at me. "Relajarte y decirles. Estoy aquí contigo."

Ah. Teddy was going to make me do it. That was definitely the correct move, but my heart sank at the idea.

"Teddy and I are engaged," I squeaked out. There was a breathless, silent pause, and then the room erupted in excitement.

Of course it did. It was good news. Why wouldn't my supportive if a bit overbearing parents be over the moon that I was marrying this sweet boy who painted soft focus masterpieces and cooked for me after long days at work? Who wouldn't want him as a son-in-law?

...

"Do we need to tell your parents?" I asked Teddy when we got back home. Well, back to the house he shared with Foster and Ira. It felt most like home those days.