Kelly buries himself against my chest so fast it almost knocks the wind out of me. I pull my fingers out of him and wrap my arms around him and kiss the side of his head while his voice comes out muffled against my skin. “Jesus, do none of your family knock?”
I glare at my brothers over Kelly’s head. “What are you doing here?”
Mikhail walks backward toward the hallway with his hands still covering his face. “No words until you’re dressed. I mean it. I need therapy and a lobotomy to erase this image out of my fucking brain, dude. We’ll be anywhere else. Jesus Christ, put your junk back into your pants.”
Daniil freezes for another second, then blinks and spins around fast, shaking his head.
I help Kelly down from the counter, keeping my hand on his waist as he pulls his clothes on with shaking hands. I yank my pants up and buckle myself.
“I’m going to take a shower. You’re on your own with this,” Kelly says, jerking his chin toward the bathroom.
I nod and sigh as he disappears down the hallway before I stalk after my two idiot brothers.
I find them in the home gym. Mikhail pacing like a caged dog, rubbing his hands through his buzz cut and muttering to himself. Daniil’s half-seated on the edge of the weights bench with his face covered by his hand, and his shoulders are shaking with barely contained laughter.
“Does no one fucking knock anymore, and doorbells aren’t a thing now either?” I snap.
Mikhail whirls around to face me. “I called you ten times, asshole. You weren’t answering. I thought you were dead, so I made Danya drive us here to come check on you.”
I throw my arms up. “And you still didn’t knock?”
“Trust me, I wish we did.”
He groans and rubs his buzz cut again like he’s trying to erase the memory.
Daniil’s shoulders shake harder. He’s still got his hand over his mouth trying to stop it, but he’s laughing now at the whole situation.
I glare at both of them. “I’m alive. The two of you can leave now.”
Daniil’s laughter dies down, but he’s still looking at me with obvious amusement, hand covering his mouth.
“Stop staring at me, jerk.”
“Don’t fucking talk to him like that,” Mikhail snaps and steps closer to me.
“If you’ve got something to say, say it. Otherwise, get out of my face.”
“What did they say to you? What is our father going to do?” Mikhail pushes.
“It doesn’t matter, okay?” I throw my hands up because I’m done with this conversation. I don’t want to talk about any of it.
“Fuck, sorry for caring,” he mutters. “Mother wants Kelly to come over for Christmas.”
I blink in confusion. “We don’t celebrate Christmas. That’s an American thing.”
“No shit. She wants to throw it for him.”
“For Kelly?” I ask.
“She wants all of us there and she’s planning some dinner or whatever. But I’m not buying any of you assholes presents because none of you deserve anything.”
I narrow my eyes. “What is she planning?”
We’ve never done Christmas, not like they do here in America. For us, it’s New Year’s that matters. That’s our celebration. The idea of a tree and gifts and all of us sitting at a table like some Hallmark bullshit feels completely wrong. She did call me the other day making sure we were okay and wanted to know more about Kelly. Maybe that’s why she is doing this.
Mikhail starts walking toward the door, then turns around. “By the way, since I’m permanently scarred from what I just witnessed, you’re buying me something ridiculously expensive for this whole Christmas bullshit. I’m talking stupidly over thetop.” He pauses dramatically. “And Danya says he wants a pony for the emotional damage you’ve caused him.”
He flips me off casually over his shoulder as he walks out. Daniil trails after him but stops just outside the door, turning back to give me the most exasperated head shake and eye roll before following him down the hall. Mikhail’s been doing this since they were children, inventing absurd shit and pretending it’s what Daniil wants since he can’t call him out on it.
