Rage With Benefits

14 Years Later: We're Getting Old

Summer 2033, Norris-Occonor Residence: Los Angeles, California

"No."

The teenager wailed, plopping herself on one of the accent chairs before standing up again with a huff, stomping around the room as she glared at her perpetrator.

The named perpetrator didn't move a muscle as she did, silently laughing with his blue eyes glued to the news playing on TV. Apparently, a Florida man accidentally sat on a pistol and shot himself in the penis.

"But it's-"

"Nope."

"But I'm not even-"

"Absolutely not."

Crossing her arms, Evie shot her brother a warning look. "Ian," she said, pointing at the man who's deliberately dragging her away from a once-in-a-lifetime chance to socialize at night while her mother's not around. "Can you please talk some sense into this guy?"

"I don't know, Evo," Ian shrugged, chucking the dirty knife into the sink before facing his sister. "You made the mistake of telling him."

"You're not going to that party alone, Evelyn," Bryce muttered expressly, lips curling down in a frown as he pointed at himself. "And excuse me, 'this guy'?"

"Um, I have friends," Evie retorted, eyes wide with the intent to persuade and maybe piss the blonde out of Bryce's hair. "Besides, I'm not going to do anything crazy! All my friends are going, I just don't wanna be left out!"

"If you don't wanna be left out, invite them to spend the night over. We'll even go to brunch in the morning," Bryce pointed out, beaming as if he's confident that he's talking the fifteen-year-old out of this party. "I mean it's basically the same, minus the booze and teenage pregnancies."

"Oh really?" Evie raised a brow, as if challenging the blond to a duel. "'Cause that's what you two did when you were fifteen? Go to brunch?" She dragged a finger between the couple.

Ian snorted, making Bryce scowl at his apathy.

"You know, I kinda miss the good old days when you couldn't talk," Evie heard him counter.

She made a face in response, flinging her purse on the couch before stomping upstairs, not saying anything but a frustrated whine.

There was an abrupt silence before Bryce heard Ian's quiet laughter. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he turned to the brunet before opening his mouth.

"How could you not care? That's your sister," he said.

Ian let his shoulders relax, washing his hands before making his way to Bryce who was sitting in the living room.

"Babe, she's fifteen," Ian told the blond as he began squeezing Bryce's tense shoulders. He leaned down to kiss his temple before going on. "I think she can handle a few hours a couple of blocks away from home."

"It's 11 p.m.," Bryce articulated, fumbling his left hand over Ian's.

The brunet hummed and took a moment to look at it, focusing on the silver band wrapped around both of their ring fingers. He smiled. He couldn't for the life of him remember what it feels like to not have it; this, not that he wants to.

"Please, when were you ever home at 11 p.m. when you were fifteen?" the brunet rebutted, gently tapping his husband's face. "Or fourteen? Or thirteen?"

"And do not say it's because she's a girl."

Bryce threw him a deadpanned look. "I'm not."

As soon as he said that, a loud voice yelled from upstairs."I hate it here!"