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To Love at all is to Love Entirely

Chapter 1: Homecoming

Warning contains masturbation scene

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ If you wish to skip the smut look for the rats. They appear and the start and end of sexual scenes. ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

︵‿୨ - March 10 1951 - ୧‿︵

“Félix stop!” Pepa whined playfully.

They would do this every now and again. His sisters and their husbands. They would get out the playing cards and a bottle of aguardiente and play poker into the late hours of the night. A sort of double date night. Loser takes a shot. He used to play with them sometimes. Unfortunately not having a partner always left him feeling like the odd man out.

This time he really was the odd man out.

“Escalera real mi vida.” Agustín purred.

Bruno took another swig from the bottle of rum that sat on a crate next to him. Every time his sisters lost he took a shot. A show of solidarity. Or maybe just alcoholism. He’d managed to swipe the bottle from a party and had been nursing it for close to a month. Tonight seemed like a good enough excuse to indulge a bit as he lay on a ratty twin-sized mattress on the floor. He set the bottle back down on the crate and rolled over to face the wall. Listening passively to their game night.

It sounded like they were having fun. He wasn’t missed. He wondered if they would act any differently if they knew he was there. He was happy for his sisters. They found good men who loved them dearly. Still… he couldn't help the bitterness in his throat. Lying there alone. Listening to their drunken flirting. He knew full well how their night would end. When he used to play with them they were a little more subtle. A little less shameless.

Maybe it was because he was the only bachelor in the room and they pitied him. Or maybe it was just the family treating him like a child again. Like they were under some delusion he was too fragile to process such mature information. He wasn’t a child though. He wasn’t naive. Far from it.

He heard the roars of his sisters and went to take another shot. Empty. That figures. It sounded like their game was wrapping up.

He sat up in bed clutching the empty bottle for a moment as he listened to them drunkenly shuffle up the stairs. A few of his rats stared up at him expectantly.

“Sí, sí, I know!” He hissed as soon as his sisters were out of earshot.

He tossed the bottle half-heartedly. Listlessly watching it bounce off the back of his armchair before rolling back towards the bed. The floor was slightly uneven. Of course it was. He hadn’t thrown it with enough force to break the glass but the clatter as it hit the floor was enough to scare off the rats. He had promised himself he’d make it last at least a month. He didn’t need his pets' judgmental eyes on him right now. He knew he was a failure. He didn’t need to be reminded.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

He flopped back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. His mind wandered to the couples upstairs. He could feel his body tensing against his trousers.

“Meirda.” He groaned as he rubbed his eyes violently with his palms. He propped himself up on one arm and reached down to adjust himself so as to get some relief from his waistband. He was already so hard he winced at his own touch. He’d not been paying attention to his growing condition till now. Now he couldn’t ignore it. He tried to get his mind on something else, but the intrusive thoughts wouldn’t leave him. Floating circles in his brain no matter how much he protested.

He knew he shouldn’t think about his sisters like this. Imagining what it was like to be them. To be loved, touched, consumed…

He was already touching himself. Any semblance of self-control was out the window tonight. What was the point? It’s not like anyone would know. Dolores went to bed ages ago. Just him, god, the devil, and the rats.

He muttered faint profanities to himself as he ran his palm along his flesh. So engorged it hurt. He sat up a moment and pulled the crucifix he wore from his neck. If he was going to sin tonight it might be best to put it away. He’d hate to feel it burning into his collarbone all night.

He placed his necklace in the top drawer of his dresser for safekeeping. Leaving his pants and poncho on the floor before returning to bed and curling up under the covers. He gripped the covers over his shoulder with one hand as he lubricated the other with precum. Again he winced before letting out a deep sigh.

He’d been jealous of his sisters for years. He was sure no one really knew just how much. He’d been in denial himself at first. This repressed teenage boy staring longingly at the boys his hermanas courted. No woman had ever made him feel the way a man did. Not for lack of trying. He knew what other teenage boys could be like. The things they would say when one of the Madrigal women walked by. He’d tried to admire women's bodies the way they did. Even got caught once by a girl in town who slapped him hard enough to leave a mark. He’d rather he could have been a garden variety pervert over a degenerate sinner.

He put a hand over his mouth to muffle himself as he shuttered. He thought of the gruff working hands, the smell of cologne, sweat, and cigars. He bit down on his fingers. The thought of all the things a man could do to him. He was gripping himself tighter now. His movements were frantic and desperate as he shivered and jerked about under the covers.

He pulled his fingers into his mouth. Gnawing and sucking on them. He barely paid any mind to the wet rabid sounds that escaped his lips. He suckled frantically on his hand till his fingers began to swell from the abuse. He was growing increasingly tender and frustrated as he kept edging close to some kind of relief but never quite reaching it. He was growing lightheaded. He wanted more.

Curling in on himself he reached down with his abused fingers and began to probe himself. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this. So desperate to cum it stopped mattering how. He would slide his fingers in with little effort though his breath still caught in his chest for a moment. He stopped stroking his dick as he curled his fingers inside himself. He was seeking out that sweet spot that would let him cum.

He let out a startled gasp as he felt the sharp jab of his fingernails against his favorite pressure point. He was gasping for air now, panting as he returned to stroking himself while his fingers went to work massaging his warm velvety insides. He wondered what it would be like to be penetrated by a real man. Someone unlike himself, the scrawny, cowardly, midget that he was. He felt his face go numb. He grew dizzy as he struggled to breathe. That pressure kept building but to no relief and his dick was getting tender and raw.

“Carajo!” He shouted in bitter frustration as he released himself. He collapsed onto his back and gasped out for air. “Por favor, Dios, Satán.” Whatever ethereal creature it was who saw fit to torture his every waking moment. “Just let me have this.” He whined as tears streamed down his hot, flushed, face.

He calmed himself enough to reach up and wipe the offending tears from his cheeks.

“Santo Dios, why am I like this?” He whimpered between fluttering breaths.

He just wanted some relief tonight. Anything to ease this pain. He didn’t care if it was sin. He didn’t care about hell. In this moment he just wanted to feel some pleasure. To feel something besides empty soul-crushing pain.

He looked over to the empty liquor bottle on the floor and a wicked thought struck him. A devious, rebellious thought. The neck of the bottle was a bit shy of an inch across two maybe three inches long. He wasn’t seriously considering this was he? He thought of his precious hermanas enjoying their night upstairs and that bitter resentment bubbled up in his gut. He’d already committed to being a degenerate tonight. What did it matter? He’d worry about his immortal soul tomorrow when he wasn’t drunk, horny, and angry.

He reached out for the bottle without leaving the somewhat comfortable confines of his bed.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He muttered as he turned the glass bottle over in his hands. He spat into his palm and stroked the neck of the bottle. It wasn’t close to the real thing but it was closer than his fingers ever could be. He kicked off the covers and felt his face flush with a humiliating heat as he reached down to line the neck of the bottle up with his entrance. Still puckered and tender from the abuse he’d done to himself earlier.

He took a shaky nervous breath and pressed down. This was a new low for him. He’d never done anything like this before. He wasn’t even sure he could take it, but he wanted it so badly… To be filled up by something, anything. The glass was cold and made him shiver. His body put up some resistance but he persisted.

“AY!” He let out a pained cry as the lip of the bottle made its way in and shot ripples of pain through his flesh. He clasped his free end over his mouth in a panic. He startled himself with his own girlish shriek. For a moment he lay there silently listening for any sound of human life. All he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He kept his mouth covered for fear of the sounds that might escape him. Slowly he began to press deeper in. He ground his fingertips against the stubble on his cheeks as he muffled a moan. Eyes closed. His head rolled back into the mattress as he made it all the way down the neck of the bottle. The glass was cold but silky smooth and it warmed gradually to his skin.

His hand started to slip loose from his mouth as he moaned from the sheer satisfaction. It felt so good. He’d speculated for years, but this was better than he’d imagined, and it wasn’t even the real thing. Imagine how that would feel. He started slowly, gently pulling back and pushing back in. Before long however that frantic hunger began to build again as he picked up speed.

He let go of his face and gripped the covers so tight his knuckles went white. He found himself bucking forward with each thrust. His legs trembled and his whole body rocked. He arched his back. Panting like a dog in heat. His movements were clumsy. His hand kept slipping on the smooth glass. The angle was difficult. It felt so good though, clumsy and rough though it was. That fullness, that feeling of being properly violated. The thought of strong hands on his body as he grew dizzy again.

As much as he loved this feeling it became apparent he wasn’t going to cum like this. He pulled the bottle out and rolled over onto all fours for a moment to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. He was sweating now, heaving. His arms were shaking as he struggled to support his own weight. He needed a new strategy. He needed some way to maintain a consistent angle and rhythm. He thought for a moment before bringing the bottle to his face and slipping the neck into his mouth. The glass was warm and tasted sweet and metallic. With a fresh coat of lubrication, he sat upright on his knees and placed it between his ankles.

He leaned back till his palms hit the mattress. Supporting his weight on his arms as he lowered himself down onto the bottle. This time there was no pain, no resistance, it slid in effortlessly. He let out a grateful sigh.

“Joder eso es bueno.”

For a moment he just rested back on his hands enjoying the feeling. This was it, one last try, and if he couldn’t manage it this time he’d just have to cut his losses for the night. He was slower this time as he started practicing rocking his hips up and down. His feet crossed each other. Toes curling. Calves flexing as he pulled his legs as tight around the bottle as he could manage. This was much smoother, more controlled. He moaned softly and his head rolled back.

He considered stroking his cock one more time but decided against it. It was still tender and the pressure inside him sent a pleasure that radiated through his cock. This was enough, for now, this was all he wanted. Just this slow even pace. Just enjoying the feeling. Listening to his body.

Eventually, that pressure began to rise again causing him to pick up the pace. This time his movements were precise and deliberate. It got harder to maintain that smooth fluid motion the faster he got but with some focus he could manage it. He just had to keep that stable rhythm going. Just a little longer. His cock ached and trembled. He grew light-headed again. Worried that sweet release would illude him he brought one of his hands up to his dick and stroked himself gently. Just the slightest touch was all it took to finally send him over the edge.

For a moment he couldn’t breathe. His whole body tensed as he felt the hot sticky substance dribble down his fingers. He came in deep shuttering waves. The throbbing satisfying stretch of thick cum pulsing through his cock. When it finally stopped he waited to catch his breath for a moment. His eyes fluttered open. He looked down at himself…

He was disgusted with what he saw. His hideous filthy body. Why would anyone love someone so repulsive? Much less another man? He awkwardly dislodged himself before collapsing on the bed. Avoiding the puddle he’d left on the mattress.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

What had he just done?

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He was sweaty and winded and tired. So tired. He knew it was wrong. For a man to want the things he did. There were a lot of things wrong about him. This was just another defect to add to the pile. Why should this matter more than any of the other humiliating mistakes he’d made in his life? At least no one knew about this. This was a defect he could keep all to himself.

There was something oddly comforting in that.

︵‿୨ - October 17 1950 - ୧‿︵

Bruno lay on his mattress for a while, muscles sore, eyes still glued shut from sleep. He’d been awake for some time just listening to the sound of falling sand, the little paw steps of his rats. A few of the little creatures were still snuggled up along the length of his body for warmth. It had been a five months since he moved back into his old room.

The rest of the family had wanted to refurnish the room for him after they saw its sorry state but, to their dismay, he’d chosen instead to cram all his tattered belongings into a little cave in the wall of his tower. It wasn’t always so bad. One would think it would have been good as new after the house had been rebuilt, but no, that was just his luck. It was all the same to him in any case. He wasn’t quite yet ready to part completely with the little home he’d made for himself in the walls.

It wasn’t much, but just moving back to his old room alone was stressful and surreal. To Casita's credit, he’d forgotten how soothing the curtain of sand was at night, all the nights it helped him fall asleep as a child.

Juanita began to nuzzle at his scruffy cheek and when that proved fruitless started lapping at his skin, her little teeth grazing his face.

“Alright, alright, I get it, I’m up.” he groaned though he couldn't help the grin that her persistence brought to his face.

No doubt she was pestering him for her breakfast. He’d been keeping rats for years, ever since he was a child. It started with a single mated pair. He took them in after Pepa kicked one of them across the kitchen and broke its leg. It was just going to be temporary, just until they were well enough to be released. He couldn’t help but get attached. It took a lot of cajoling when Mamá found out to get her to let him keep them. No doubt she never expected the population to explode like it did.

It took a bit of limp, half-hearted, flailing to get the feeling back in his limbs and shake off the sleep. A good yawn and a stretch to get fresh oxygen to his brain. As he craned backward he heard a loud crack that echoed off the walls of the tower and sent a brief shiver down his spine. That got his eyes open. He rubbed a palm along the sore spot in his lower back and cleaned the sleep from his eyes before cracking his neck, then his knuckles. He stared down at the old mattress on the floor. Maybe it was time to get a new bed at least.

Climbing up to his feet he watched as the rats started poking their heads out of every nook and cranny, eyeing him expectantly. A few sleeping rats tumbled off his poncho onto the bed. He chuckled as he watched Carlos wriggle on his back only to sink deeper into one of the mattress's many dents.

“Easy mijo I got you.” he reassured and reached down to scoop up his pet. Carlos lay contentedly in his arms like a baby and Bruno gave his belly a tickle. The rat squealed playfully and scurried up his arm to his shoulder and made a nest in Bruno’s mat of curly black hair. Their little claws still tickled after all these years, their shiny eyes and twitching noses filled him with a comforting warmth. As he turned to leave others poured from their cubbies and started to pool about his ankles. Walking down the stone steps and carefully avoiding tiny, eager tails he started to wonder if he may have become somewhat of a crazy cat lady. He dismissed the thought, surely not, these are rats, it’s completely different. Rats actually love you back.

As he made it to the bottom of the steps he looked around the cavernous room. Every morning it seemed to look a little different than the night before. It had grown very empty and deteriorated over the years. It was starting to look a bit better. The sand curtain now fell into a working grate in the floor, you could actually see the floor. A decorative tile floor was slowly creeping out from the center of the room, consuming the dull wood planks, and a few more of the steps had grown back. He couldn’t spot anything too noticeable today, but this house was always full of surprises and he was sure he’d spot something by the end of the day.

Poking his head out into the hall he could hear a commotion in the courtyard. The house was usually pretty noisy but this was something else. He padded down the steps to the catwalk. Careful to avoid his many sobrinos as they scurried past. He still walked softly out of habit so as not to make any sound that might disturb the peace.

A sudden roar shook him. Reverberating through his blood and jolting a very primal fear into action. Whiping around to spot the source of the danger.

There was Antonio with one of the worlds most dangerous predators. His heart was beating a million miles a minute. His brain failing to keep up with his instincts as he bolted forward. No thoughts on what he'd do only afraid for his littlest sobrino. His racing heart stopped dead as he watched the boy dive over the balcony to the floor below on the back of a jaguar.

Seconds passed that felt like years.

Then laughter.

“Vez! Vez!” Antonio cheered to his terrifying pet.

Bruno gasped with relief. Freeing the breath he'd been holding. He never much liked cats. Didn’t trust them. Esspecially a cat like that. Antonio looked alright though. Maybe he was worrying to much. Antonio could talk to animals, the animals all seemed to like him well enough. So what if Parce was a nearly four-hundred-pound killing machine. Everyone else seemed to be rolling with it.

“Me asusta terriblemente también.”

Bruno yelped as he jumped back from the railing.

He turned to see Pepa leaning over the guardrail next to him. She sighed as she watched her son playing with his jaguar in the courtyard. Parce bolted back up the steps and rushed past them in a flurry of spots.

“I don’t know how you manage.” Bruno breathed. Rubbing at the aching dent in his chest.

“Lo juro el niño is going to give me a heart attack” She agreed before shifting the weight of a basket she carried on her hip.

“To think. You used to be scared of rats.” Bruno teased.

“You’re never going to let me live that down are you.” Pepa grumbled a gray cloud forming over her adorable scrunched face.

“Eh, lo justo es justo hermana.” He grinned and shot her finger guns. His sister groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Between you and Tonito I’ll be lucky if I make it to forty.”

“But you’re fifty.” Bruno replied awkwardly. Admittedly it felt a little weird to say it out loud himself. Sometimes he forgot just how old he was, it was truly uncanny to him how fast time flew.

“Fifty-one as of today.” Mirabel chimed as she skipped up the stairs to plant a kiss on her uncle’s cheek.

Bruno froze up at first from the gesture. He'd grown so unaccustomed to human touch over the years. He only took a second to recompose himself before ruffling his sobrina's hair. She smiled brightly back at him. She really was a miracle. This bright beautiful girl who brought him out of his cave. She reminded him how it felt to be loved. So many years he’d watched her grow through the cracks in the walls. Now he could finally feel the warmth of her skin and gaze lovingly into those beautiful brown eyes.

“No, not yet!” Pepa curtly corrected, accented by a low rumble of thunder. “Until nine forty PM, I’m still fifty” She huffed. Her husband Félix crept up behind her and tickled the back of her neck with kisses that made her giggle like a schoolgirl. Wrapping his strong arms around her petite waist he reassured his wife.

“Fifty or five hundred mi vida you’re still as beautiful as the day we met.”

“Eres un gran coqueto.” She chided playfully as she ran her free hand along his jawline.

Bruno pretended to vomit over the railing, loud enough for his sister to hear. Pepa shot daggers at him as Félix and Mirabel laughed. It felt good, making his family laugh. It was one of the few things he was good at growing up. Even if Mamá didn’t always appreciate it.

“Did you find the decorations Tía Pepa?” Mirabel chimed.

“They were in Mamá's closet, I had to clean them up a bit but they’re in pretty good shape all things considered.”

Pepa passed the basket over to Mirabel. Bruno pressed himself against the railing to make space for them and noticed as it passed by him, a familiar lime green fabric he hadn’t seen in ages. When they were young his mother had sat him and his sisters down to stitch birthday banners the three of them had used for years. As they got older the banners were used less and less. But there was his. The poorly stitched character smiling back at him.

“Honestly I don’t know why she wanted to use these, they’re embarrassing.”

“Come now Pepa, today is special. I wanted to do something special.” Their madre insisted as she stepped out into the hall. She reached up instinctively to wave away the small cloud above her daughter's head before stopping herself and patting her cheek instead. Bruno felt a dozen tiny paws clamber up his pant legs and cling to his shirt to hide beneath his poncho.

Pepa sighed and her brother had to agree. “S-she’s right Mamá these are a bit silly don’t you think?”

Bruno’s voice cracked awkwardly and made him feel like a child.

“Well I think they’re adorable” Mirabel grinned as she pulled the banner out to inspect her uncle’s childish doodles. Bruno reached out to stuff it back into the basket. “Ay, don’t look too closely at that!” He sheepishly insisted.

“Ma if I’d remembered it was our birthday I would have gotten up early to help everyone set up.”

“Nonsense Brunito, it’s your first year back. We wanted you to relax and enjoy your special day.” His mother cooed as she brushed a lock of unruly hair out of his face.

It was strange seeing her so soft and doting. He heard his sister grumble though their mother didn’t seem to notice. It had been like this since he properly returned to family life. His mother had been doting on him more than she ever had when they were kids and he was sure everyone was starting to notice.

“A big party like this? I dunno, I think I should just sit this one out.” He stammered out, wringing his hands close to his chest, small.

“I get it,” Mirabel piped up. “You’ve not got the best reputation.” She drastically downplayed.

“We were gonna do a small little family thing but somebody had to go and blab to the whole town.”

She chastised her cousin who poked her head out one of the many doors to call back indignantly. “You shouldn’t have sent me to pick up the groceries. You know how Señora Florez is with the chisme tax. What was I supposed to do?”

Mirabel shook her head as Mamá put a hand on Bruno’s shoulder. His mother lifted his chin to face her with a gentle touch.

“Go get something to eat then talk to Isabela, see if she can’t do something with your hair.”

“Uh, sure thing Ma.” He replied awkwardly before slipping back out of her orbit and nearly tumbling backwards down the stairs. Mirabel caught him and propped him up with the basket before nodding down to the kitchen.

The kitchen smelled like heaven. His sister's cooking always did. He used to joke that God gave him a big nose so he could better appreciate her food.

“There you are.” Julieta chimed as she turned from rolling out dough to greet him.

Bruno smiled and gave her a little wave. “Sí, mis niños were hungry.” he chuckled shyly.

Juanita poked their snoot out of his sleeve to sniff around hungrily.

“Alright guys you can come out now la señora atemorizante’s gone.” He shook his poncho to agitate the rats who flooded out into a pool on the floor around him. Mirabel stepped back sucking in her lips awkwardly as she admired the hoard. Julieta jumped a little as she turned around to clean her hands on her apron and saw the battalion of furry creatures on her clean kitchen floor.

Bruno wasn’t oblivious. “I can keep them in my room if they’re in the way.” He scratched his face. “I guess I didn’t think too much about it before. They like to follow me around but usually, it was just us in here at night.”

A flash of sadness crossed his sister's face. Bruno could only imagine how that must how sounded. The images it conquered up. He'd largely avoided thinking too much about what he looked like from an outsider's perspective. He couldn't bring himself to self-reflect… it took his mind to dark places. Thinking on it now though as he saw the look in his hermana's eyes? The image of him scowering the kitchen in the dead of night with the rats.

Julieta quickly collected herself as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her.

“Oh, it’s fine, as long as you keep them off the counter.”

Bruno reached back with his foot to subtly pull Rossa down from the knob of a cabinet with his toes.

“Oh sí, no problema.” He smiled nervously.

“I always wondered where all my food was going. Felt like I was feeding an army, turns out I really was.” She laughed and her warm voice soothed the growing tension in his chest.

Julieta reached into a warmer on the counter to pull out a couple of arepas to toss to her brother. Bruno fumbled the catch slightly and thanked her. As he went to take a bite Juanita climbed up on his shoulder and reached out to give it a sniff. She looked up at him with big round eyes and he caved immediately.

“Alright, I’ll let you have the first bite. Only cause you’ve been good lately.”

Leaning back against the table he started to pull a piece off for her only to jump at the sound of Julieta’s scolding.

“Oh no you don’t!” She stopped him and scooped Jaunita off his shoulder. She held the rat awkwardly far from her body. Doing her best to be gentle. “That’s your breakfast you eat.” She said, holding Juanita as if she were a loaded gun. “I’ll find something for… tus niños.” She put Juanita down on the floor and went to wash her hands before leading the rats to the pantry.

Mirabel watched the tiny parade in mild astonishment. “That’s a lot of rats.”

“You think that’s a lot.” Bruno muffled through a mouthful of food. “These are just the more social ones. A lot of them are still too shy to leave my room.”

“How many do you have?” She queried as she set the basket down on a free patch of countertop. Casita carried off the embarrassing banners to god knows where.

“Fifty three… no fifty eight since Beatrice had her litter. Speakings of, I should check on them later, see if she needs new bedding. Bring her something to eat.”

Mirabel was stunned silent for a moment and Bruno could feel her eyes on him as he stuffed the last bite of arepa into his mouth. After a few agonizing seconds of owl eyes staring Bruno couldn't take it anymore. He wiped the crumbs from his mouth and hurried to defend himself. Stammering as he looked for the right words to say.

“Look I-I know not everyone gets it, b-but rats are great, they’re smart and affectionate, and…” he realized he’d been leaning in a little too close and was slightly hovering over Mirabel in his enthusiasm. Instinctively he shrunk back down.

“I mean, I get why people, you know, just…”

Mirabel put a hand on his to steady him as he started dissolving in front of her.

“They love su familia, you know.” He explained, looking back into her eyes. He’d never stop being amazed by the understanding he found in them.

Mirabel gave him a knowing smile. “Don’t worry about it. You're not the only one with weird pets. Antonio has a whole jungle in his room, I’m sure he’d love to get to hear all about them.” She patted his hand before pushing off the kitchen table and lacing her fingers behind her back.

“You should go clean up. The guests should start showing up soon.”

“Ah caray, is it that late?”

“Tío it’s six in the afternoon” She laughed. Bruno blushed as he realized just how late he'd slept in. He was laegly nocturnal for the last decade and adapting to a normal schedule had been difficult. He really didn't intent to sleep the day away. Why couldn't his mother have woken him up?

Bruno hurried off to look for Isabela.

“Finally,” Isabela tutted as she led him to the washroom. “I wanted to wake you up earlier but Abuela said to let you sleep in. We’re running out of time and I’m not letting nuestro cumpleañero look like un indigente.”

“Little harsh mija” he whined as she shoved him into a chair propped up against the bathroom sink.

He remembered how sweet and spunky she was when she was little. The world around him may have been fast and loud but he couldn’t help but reminisce. He remembered helping his hermana clean paint from Isabela's hair when she was four. The frantic rush to contain the mess before their mother got home. She was so small then. This little ray of sunshine and mischief trying to spread beauty wherever she went. Nowadays she had developed a much sharper tongue and a spiteful temper that could be a bit scary up close.

“I’ll see if I can’t work my magic.” She cracked her knuckles and circled around him inspecting his hair.

“EEEK!” She squealed as she uncovered Carlos still nesting under his curls.

Carlos leaped out in fear and scurried off. Bruno tried to reach for him but he was off and around the corner before he could say anything.

Isabela took a deep breath and rubbed at her temples. “Tu y Antonio… está bien, perdón, no pasa nada.” She paced for floor before retreating to the edge of the tub. She had a few different bowls of sweet-smelling goo he couldn’t quite identify. He could see the gears turning in her head as she formulated a plan of attack.

“This seems like a lot don’t you think?”

“Oh this is just the start, I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me to recover that duty rats next you call hair. At least for tonight, I think I can get it presentable.” She warned ominously as she brought a bowl over to set by the sink and called out to her father.

“Eh Papi! Poca ayuda por aquí.”

Agustín, who was chatting with his wife in the kitchen, stopped to call back. “Oh, we’re doing this now?”

“Sí ahora!” His daughter snapped back.

“Doing what? Excuse me, what exactly did I agree to?”

Isabela shoved her tío back in the chair and pushed his head back into the sink to rinse his hair.

“Don’t worry about it. Just relax and let me handle things okay?”

Bruno tried hard not to recoil at his sobrina's touch as she raked her fingers along his scalp. Someone else might have found it soothing but he could help but feel anxious getting this much attention. His cuñado came in with a shaving kit and started setting up.

“Ey, gracias, p-pero no. I can do that myself, you know.”

“No time Tío Bruno. This is faster, just let Papi help you.” Isabelle chided as she shifted her weight to the side to make more space for her father and smeared something under his eyes before scrubbing his scalp. Whatever it was it smelled of aloe.

Agustín inspected the razor, seemingly oblivious to Bruno’s discomfort as he squeaked out a “Cómo no?” through grit teeth.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

The following half-hour felt like centuries as his nails bored grooves in the arms of the wooden dining chair. He tried his best to make idle small talk and avoid making Agustín laugh with a razor pressed against his throat.

Once all was said and done Isabela tied his hair back into a short ponytail and he got a good look at himself in the mirror. Despite his misgivings, considering Agustín’s usual clumsiness, he’d never managed such a clean shave himself. Perhaps it was a byproduct of growing up in a house full of women. His hair looked a lot cleaner and softer, shiny even, and he could swear Isabela must have done something to cover up some of the gray streaks while she was at it. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Whatever gunk she had smeared on his face earlier had brought a bit of life back to his skin and the dark circles under his eyes were less intense now.

It almost felt as if he'd been robbed of something, though he couldn't quite articulate what had been lost.

He almost couldn’t recognize himself in the mirror as he prodded gently at his face. Isabela smirked confidently behind him as her father scurried off to put the supplies away.

“Sometimes I amaze even myself.”

“You did a great job.” he muttered softly.

Isabela’s face softened as she seemed to notice how small he shrunk the more he looked at his reflection. She wrapped her arms around his scrawny neck.

“Happy birthday Tío Bruno.” She smiled meekly. Isabela was anything but meek. “Between you and me, this was my idea.” She admitted. “I just wanted you to feel good on your birthday. I thought it would help.”

Bruno could feel a knot form in his stomach as he heard guests start to funnel in. Isabela had been hoping to boost his confidence using her most familiar means. He turned to hug his oldest sobrina. She smelled of succulents and even after all these years she still felt small in his arms.

“Me hiciste falta.” she whispered softly.

“Me hiciste falta también, cariña.”

“Come on, the party’s starting.” Agustín ushered them out into the courtyard.

Already the Casita was filled with life and music. Antonio was impressing the neighbor kids with his many exotic pets as they darted outside to play in the yard. He could see Luisa and her mother resting with some cold lemonade and having a laugh. Camillo had filled the corner with kids his own age who all seemed enthralled with whatever tales he was spinning. He watched as his sobrino briefly shifted into an intimidating caricature of him only to change back the second they made eye contact. Pepa was dancing with her husband and Mirabel supervised the folks cued up to grab food from the table set up along the side of the courtyard.

Bruno had seen a great deal of Madrigal parties but this one felt different. Usually, the Madrigals would all be on their feet entertaining, but most of the family seemed to be taking it a bit easier this time around. The decorations were less intensely curated, more chaotic, and casual. The music was… He turned to see Dolores and her new novio on the piano. Ah, that explained it. She looked utterly enthralled with him though as she sat next to him drinking in his baritone voice and questionable lyrics.

Isabela recognized a young man in the crowd and flagged him down while Agustín went to help Mirabel in the kitchen leaving Bruno alone on the sidelines. He knocked anxiously along the wall behind him, took a deep breath, and crossed his fingers. Everything seemed to be going alright so far but he couldn't be too careful. As he released his breath he was grateful for the space he’d now been afforded. It was nice to just sit back and watch without being the center of anyone's attention. He hoped it would stay that way and he wouldn’t have to make idle chit-chat with his neighbors. More than anything he hoped he wouldn’t find some way to make a scene of himself.

He felt little paws skitter up his pant leg.

“There you are Carlos.” he scooped up the gray white-bellied rat and looked him over to be sure he wasn’t too shaken up. “Lo siento por Isabela. Va a dejarse convencer, tal vez…” He stroked the top of Carlos’s head with his finger and sighed. “Oh, a quién engaño?” He didn’t know what would possess him to lie like that. Carlos was a rat, people hate rats, there was no changing that.

“Bruno!” Boomed a cheery voice.

“Dios me dé fuerza.” he muttered under his breath as he tucked Carlos under his collar. Portly Osvaldo waddled up to give him a friendly slap on the back that nearly knocked him over.

“It’s good to see you. Looking good mi amigo you clean up nice.”

“Hola Osvaldo.” He forced out with an exasperated sigh. “How’s that diet working out for you?” Bruno asked dryly as observed a belt fastened two sizes too small. Not that he cared but he felt obligated to try and make conversation. He didn't mind a man's weight. He could care less if he was fat, but this man's insecurities had added to Bruno's bad reputation in the past. He had very little sympathy for him.

“Am I meeting my goal this year?” he asked excitedly.

“It wasn’t a vision, just a guess…” Not that Osvaldo was even listening.

“No never mind, don’t tell me. Yo no quiero mala suerte.” Osvaldo put his hands in his pockets and beamed proudly. “I’ve managed to commit to it all month.”

“Well good luck with that.” Bruno replied as he tried to scoot away. Only to have Osvald put a hand on his shoulder and keep chattering with total abandon.

“Did you do something with your hair? You look ten years younger.”

“Yeah, you can thank mi sobrina for that. Isabela she uh…” He trailed off as he noticed Mirabel had returned to her post and caught her eye from across the room with a pleading look.

Much to his relief she recognized his discomfort and hurried over to distract Osvaldo with some sweets.

“Hey Senor Ortiz. I know how much you love my mom’s desserts. She’s been trying out some new recipes. You’ve just got to try them,”

Mirabel winked back at Bruno as Osvald blabbed on about his diet, giving Bruno the green light to flee. Bruno hated relying on Mirabel like this but he wasn't ready to deal with these people just yet and he knew she wouldn't mind, being the social butterfly she was.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

Most of the night carried on in a similar fashion as various neighbors made awkward attempts to chat with him. Some stumbled out awkward half-hearted apologies for past mistreatment. Others would try to be friendly and supportive out of a sense of obligation and chew his ears with idle chatter. Petty small things that didn’t interest him. One woman nearly choked on her drink when she spotted one of his rats chewing at his hair tie. Still, others largely avoided him and cast him occasional unsure glances between whispers. Unsurprising. He wasn’t expecting the town to change overnight. He knew most of the people who tried to make a show of being friendly only did so to appease his mother. Not that he could blame them. In the end, he probably would have spent the night in his room if it weren’t for her.

There were a few times in the night he found himself suppressing the urge to try and ward off any possible hiccups in the night but knew that would draw attention to him. The best he could do was silently hope and pray, much as it killed him worrying over the consequences of denying his rituals. That uncontrollable gnawing urge to knock and throw salt. Fortunately, as the night wore on he did relax a bit. It seemed everyone else was a bit less wound up than usual and as he managed to survive more and more awkward encounters he slowly became more convinced that the night might actually go off without a hitch.

Eventually his mother announced cake and gifts from the top of the stairs and everyone started shuffling outside. He wasn’t thinking about gifts. He hadn’t had a birthday gift in a long time. Of course, he dreaded being the center of attention but at least he was sharing the spotlight with his hermanas so that did help a bit.

Mirable dragged him outside by his sleeve to catch up with the rest. He groaned inwardly when he saw the old birthday banners had been hung on the wall outside. Nested proudly above the table where the cake and gifts had been set up. Three chairs all in a row with those silly banners above each one.

Pepa was already seated and seemed as embarrassed by her crude childhood monstrosity as he was. Clouds of fog obscuring her face in shame. The whole thing was covered with crooked rainbows and smiley faces, and many of the stitches had long come undone leaving small holes in the embroidery.

Julieta seemed to be taking it with grace though. That was no surprise, at least her banner had been made with some competence. Little smiling dough balls and cooking tools danced along the baby blue banner around her name.

They were turning six and it had been their mother’s idea to make banners together to bond and teach them a new skill. She was so charmed by the stupid things that they used them every year for the next eight years. The smiling cartoon rat on Bruno’s banner stared back at him tauntingly. He’d been pretty fond of the illustrations in his children's books so tried to recreate his favorite character holding an hourglass. It was a testament to his handiwork how few people could actually recognize the character.

The cheery banners were pretty bittersweet. They certainly didn’t portray what it was really like growing up alone with Alma. Behind closed doors? Strict routines, high standards, harsh punishments. He still vividly remembered the sting of his mother’s chancla.

Bruno took his seat between his sisters and the town and family all gathered around as candles were lit to sing cumpleaños. He may have been anxious about the crowd but being surrounded by his familia like this, seeing all his sobrinos gathered around the table, he thought back to so many birthdays alone in the walls. Singing along, wishing his sisters well. He kept shifting his weight about, tapping his foot. He smiled wide and hung his head laughing as he tried hard not to let it show. He wasn't going to cry. He couldn't. Not in front of so many people.

“Time to blow out the candles.” His mother chimed as the few stragglers in the back finally stopped singing. Bruno looked side to side at his sisters who seemed to be wearing the same melancholy smiles as him. He could see that sad shine in their eyes that reassured him he wasn’t alone.

Mamá held up a hand and the crowd chanted all along.

“Tres, dos, uno.”

Bruno leaned in with his sisters to blow the candles out together and for the first time, it felt real to him. He was home.

SPLAT!

He felt a hand jerk his head forward into the cake as soon as the candles were out. Stunned for a brief moment he lifted his head slowly as his hermana's laughter filled his ears and he tried to blink the frosting from his eyes.

Now he was home.

He let out a chuckle and stuck his tongue out to lick the cake from his face. It tasted… different.

“Hey Julieta, did you do something different with the recipe?” He started to ask tentatively.

“I made that one.” Mirable who was leaning on the table next to her mother chirped.

“Oh, well I mean it’s still good,” he reassured, stuffing more cake into his mouth “It’s just different.” He muffled through a mouthful of cake.

“I made another one so there’d be enough to go around.” Julieta explained as she got up to take a much larger cake from Lusia and find a good spot for it at the table. Only to turn and see her brother shoveling another bite of mutilated birthday cake into his mouth with his fingers.

The rest of the night was full of laughter. His unease finally lifted. He properly enjoyed opening gifts with his hermanas. Secretly grateful the cake had helped him save face in front of the crowd. Each of the kids had gotten a gift for him this year.

Some homemade shampoo from Isabela who playfully threatened him if she didn’t see him using it. Luisa had made little wooden sculptures for the three of them, a new hobby she’d taken up. She wasn’t very good at it yet though the gesture was sweet. Dolores had wrapped one of Julieta's empanadas as an inside joke which made him beam though his sisters were clueless as to why. Camillo got him a pair of stilts as a gag gift and all he could do was stare sarcastically as his nephew nearly fell over laughing. Little Antonio made some crude climbing toys for his rats to play with.

His cuñados even brought something over much to his surprise. “Félix and I picked this out for you together.” Agustín explained as he passed Bruno a large flat box that hadn’t been wrapped.

“Oh you guys didn’t have to.”

“Trust me you need this.” Félix assured as he gestured to the box.

Opening the box revealed a simple three-piece suit, it was mauve and a bit plain yet still felt like a bit too much. It even came with a decent pair of loafers. Do doubt his cuñados caught the bewilderment on his face.

“Hey I wanted to get you something more casual but Agustín over here just had to make a big deal out of it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a good suit, you want to go more casual, you just wear the shirt and trousers. This is more versatile than what you wanted to get him.”

Bruno just stared down at the baffling gift.

“We had to guess a bit on the measurements but Julieta and I can make adjustments if you need.”

Finally roused from his daze he stumbled out. “Oh, uh, no this is… it’s… I’ll try this on later.” He smiled back.

“Nonsense.” His mother insisted. “You should go get changed, show everyone how handsome you look.”

Some folks in the crowd got a good laugh at that. A few tried to cheer him on. Cheering or jeering. He couldn’t always tell the difference.

“Oh no Ma, I mean I don’t wanna hold everyone up waiting on me.”

“Difícilmente es una imposición mijo.”

Mirabel came to his rescue yet again as she whispered something to her Abuela. Bruno could see the disappointment in Mamá's face but she quickly plastered on a smile. He felt a pit form in his stomach. He hated to disappoint her, hated that Mirabel had to come to his rescue like he was an anxious child.

“You know, you’re right. You can show it off tomorrow after we’ve had a chance to take it in a bit.” assured him.

A chubby hand pushed a brightly decorated gift onto the table in front of him as he tucked the suit away on the floor. The gift was soft with colorful scribbles all over the wrapping paper and a big bow on top. He looked up to see Mirable had saved her gift for last. Her eyes glittered from the twinkling lights.

“That just leaves mine, Tío Bruno.”

Bruno unwrapped it slowly, doing his best to preserve her lovely drawings. Neatly folded inside was a green ruana not unlike the poncho he’d worn for years. The pattern was similar but the fabric was new. Mirabel's signature scribbles danced along the hourglasses, they were small but the little pops of color gave the old pattern some new life. She was really trying her best to break him tonight wasn’t she?

He took off his old poncho exposing the rags he wore underneath and put it on. He didn’t care about the other guests. It was so warm and soft.

“How do you like it?” Mirable asked.

He pulled her in for a hug and held her close for a moment. “It's perfect mi vida.” he breathed.

“I thought you’d like it.” She held his hands in hers as they separated. Stretching out that moment of contact just a few heartbeats longer. Pouring so much love into her touch.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

After the gifts were all done the party slowly died down. In the late hours of the night as folks were starting to clean up Dolores came to tap him on the shoulder as he helped sweep crumbs and confetti from the patio. Mamá wanted to speak with him in her room. Unsure what this was about he shrugged and passed the broom off to her before heading upstairs to see what she wanted.

Her door was open and he could see her sitting on the foot of the bed as he peered inside. He tapped the frame of the door with his knuckles to get her attention. She looked up like she had been lost in thought. Without thinking he knocked on the doorframe compulsively. Worried about what her distant expression could mean. Worried about all the things that could go wrong when he spoke. Knocking kept the thoughts at bay. If only barely.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Sí, sí, come sit.” She patted the bed next to her, pulling her shawl tight over her chest.

Bruno closed the door behind him and sat down by his mother. He slumped forward with his hands clasped between his knees and waited to see what she had to say. Mamá wrapped an arm around him and stared at the floor but said nothing. She opened her mouth once or twice like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Eventually Bruno worked up the courage to break the silence.

“Soo, nice party. I managed to make it all day sin arruinar nada. That’s something, right?”

Mamá wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in close. The gesture was sudden and while small managed to knock the wind out of him. She rested his head on her shoulder and stroked his hair. Gripping him tight. Slowly he lifted his hands to hug her, patting her back gently. The silent candlelight of her dim room was deafening. A mix of tension and warmth and grief and comfort…

“Eh, Ma did you need something?” He asked softly. He froze and fought back the heat in his eyes as he was met with a sharp intake of breath.

“Just let me hold you, Brunito.” Her voice quivered. Bruno looked up to see the tears spilling over. Streaming down her cheeks and leaving dark tracks on her flushed skin.

Hurriedly he pulled himself up to her face. “Oh no, don’t cry, Mamá don’t cry. If you start crying then I’m gonna… Whatever it is I didn’t mean to…” He couldn't breathe. Please stop. He prayed she would stop. It hurt. He could feel the twisting pain in his chest. He tried to form words but grief ripped a hole in his throat. All his pained loving words bleeding out onto the floor. Never to be heard.

“P-perdóname.” She choked out. Bruno starred. Quietly awestruck by words he never thought he’d hear. Words that burned his ears. Drilled into his skull. “I never meant to push you away.” she sobbed.

He hugged her and held her tight. Her fingers boring into his back as she held on like she feared he’d evaporate in her arms. He could feel his eyes threatening to betray him as her body shuddered with near-silent sobs. He couldn't do this. He couldn't accept her apology. Not after he hurt her so. This was his fault. He was a bad son. All she ever did was love him. She worked so hard to give him a home, a life, to build a safe place for him and his hermanas. It was all he could do to fight back the tears. He had to be strong for her. At least this once he could hold her and be a good man.

“Está bien Mama.” He rubbed small circles on her back like she used to do when he was very small. “Está bien Mamá, I never left.”

He didn't know how long they stayed together like that. He held her as she sobbed and clung to her long lost hijo. So many thoughts spiraled through his mind. So many memories. Good and bad. Pain and joy. Love… Love that hurt so much to remember. Despite the pain he kept it inside. He refused to overwhelm her with his grief. For all her faults. For all the days they'd fought. He still loved her. He still missed her every day. Missed her touch. He missed the way she would hold him when he was a boy. He was a man now. He needed to be there for her. To take care of her like his father never could.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

Bruno only returned to his room in the early hours of the morning. Long after everyone else had gone to bed. Fatigue seeped into his bones as he hobbled up the steps to his bed. He moved like a ghost through the quiet desert. He stopped at the entrance to his cubby and leaned over to open Beatrice's nesting box. An old jewelry box which sat on a small table by his “comfy” chair. He'd emptied it out and filled it with scraps of tissue paper and old rags. A small blue doe gazed lovingly back up at him. Wide shining eyes as her pups nursed from her chubby belly.

“Sorry I didn’t get around to it sooner.” He muttered as he dropped a small piece of cheese into her box and watched as the grateful young mother nibbled greedily while her five pink little beans suckled.

He turned to his bed only to stop in his tracks.

The old floor mattress that had plagued his aching back for years was gone. In its place, a full-sized bed sat waiting. Simple dark wooden frame, green sheets with patterned trim. He stood by it a moment brushing the covers with his fingertips. He didn't know why his room changed when it did. Casita didn't seem to have answers to give him. He didn't think these changes were Castia's doing. This room was his and it seemed to have a life of its own. Right now though? He didn't care where the bed came from or why. He couldn't care less. He was too empty to care.

His legs gave out from under him and he flopped face-first onto the bed. His eyes burned as he soaked the fresh new sheets. Too tired to fight it. Too tired to move. Eventually, he fell asleep. The best sleep he’d had in a long time.

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