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The gentle light of dawn hit his face, tinting their room with a rosy glow. Dundee winced, furrowing his wrinkled brow. “I’m not fucking getting up,” he slurred through the haze of sleep. Grumpy, he flipped over and fell back into his slumber.
Barry smiled, propping himself up with one of his tattooed arms. He had been casually observing Dee’s sleep on and off for the past few days, monitoring from his side of the bed. His husband’s rest was rarely restful. Dee had lived through more trauma in the past year than most people would in a lifetime. They both had.
Starting with the weary head atop the pillow, Barry slowly traced the worn features of a man he knew better than maybe even himself. Every hair of his mohawk, every crease in his complexion, was touched by the lifestyle they chose to live. Looking at Dee’s dark mane, it was hard to imagine it ever having been originally sandy blond. His skin was older too, toasted over time from too much sun. Dee’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as he slept - chaos incarnate brought to heel. Very few knew this side of the notorious terrorist Barry called his husband.
A pained expression flickered across Dee’s face, exposing a vulnerable side to the man Los Santos feared. His features knitted together, struggling against something unknown. Another nightmare? There was no telling what was troubling his dreams lately. Maybe the arrests, killings, and lost friends had all started to blur together in the drowsy fog. Barry’s precious shepherd dog seemed to sense the unease, hopping clumsily onto the bed and nuzzling her furry face in between the two men. She wasted no time finding a cozy spot partway under the blankets. Coppa was a constant companion for Barry, and he suspected that Dundee could benefit from a little more animal therapy himself.
Dundee tossed and turned, groaning loud enough for their neighbours to hear. No wonder TJ wanted to move out… Barry anxiously stroked Coppa’s shaggy coat, thinking of ways to soothe his partner in crime without depriving him of sleep. An overtired Dundee would guarantee an even more impulsive temper than normal. As Vice Prime Minister, solving problems and making decisions came naturally to Barry, a fact that was being recognized increasingly by those outside the club. However, as a husband, Barry’s grand gestures often ricocheted between extreme poles of gun violence and sex jokes. Blame it on trauma, blame it on a personality defect: classic tender stuff just didn’t quite come as easily.
Instinctively, Dee reached out toward Barry’s heavily inked forearm. Fire embodied, Dundee’s temperature always ran warm. Right now, his skin felt feverish. It was troubling to see the private pain few others understood. “Maybe a song will help?” mused Barry. If simple kookaburras could sing their songs at sunrise, there’s no reason a determined gang leader couldn’t manage to.
In a low lilting baritone, Barry sang, “Give me a home among the gum trees, with lots of plum trees…” Coppa’s ears perked up at the familiar tune. More than just a reminder of their shared Australian roots, this old song had lifted their spirits countless times, even from inside jail cells.
Dundee softened, mostly regaining his somnolent composure. “A sheep or two, a kangaroo, a clothesline out the back,” serenaded Barry. The lyrics almost felt ironic coming from his mouth - what kind of urban gang leader longs for idyllic domestic bliss?
Seeing Dundee peaceful at last, Barry let out a breathy chuckle. Maybe he already had his version of domestic bliss. Wrapped up in these sheets, with the kin he’d found all on his own, was his little slice of home. Coppa wagged her tail enthusiastically, which he thought had to be a canine version of a standing applause. Dundee opened one eye and smirked. “Nice lullaby, husband.”
A blush crept up Barry’s cheeks all the way to his ears, and he laughed. Coppa barked happily, greeting the day. Barry beamed, thinking of the family he had spread all throughout the Billabong. By blood, by chance, by fate, by love - they were his. Sunlight was pouring into the apartment now as Los Santos citizens started their days. With a glint in his eye, Barry asked, “Ready to cause some trouble, Dee?”