I disgust myself. He's my brother. My brother. We're on the couch in his room, watching Dawn of the Dead, and I can't stop watching him. He's so perfect. Fucking flawless, and he has no idea.
Mom and Dad are gone for two weeks on vacation, and it's just us two. Together. Alone. Ugh. I'm sick. So fucking sick. All that I want is to kiss him, to hold him, to touch him. He's so affectionate--he always has been. But not how I want him to be. He's not sick like me. I don't think anyone is. It's incest, and that's wrong. It's a sin. I'm going to Hell. I don't know if I'd really mind going to Hell, but I do mind going there because I'm a pervert, a stupid fuck-up.
He is engrossed in the movie. I watch him mouth the words--we've watched it so many times together that we both know every line. But I'm too busy watching him, wanting him, to care about the movie. All that I can think about is him. Him him him. And he's all that I want to think about.
I used to try to stop myself, to tell myself that it was just a phase, but sixteen and seventeen flew by, and suddenly I'm twenty-fucking-one, and I still want him. I've never been with a boy before. I know that I'm gay, though; he knows, too. He helped me through it, told me it was OK. I think he might be bi. Or maybe even straight-up faggot. Like me.
I hope, for his sake, that he isn't. Because I'm a faggot, and everyone knows it. They knew it in high school, and I'd bet anything that Mom and Dad have figured it out, too. They don't say anything--I hope they're OK with it. But as long as He understands...
He's everything to me.
Sometimes I hate him for it. For being so fucking perfect. For being my brother. Because boys aren't supposed to fuck other boys, much less their own flesh and blood. Again, I'm disgusting. But I've learned that fighting it does nothing--I'm sick in the head, and I can't fix it. Even He would think I'm sick.
I'm too lost in my thoughts to notice that he's turned to me, and is watching me intently. "What's up? You look worried," he says, concern in his voice.
YOU! I want to scream. YOU'RE WHAT'S WRONG! But instead I shake my head and shrug. "Nothing, just thinking."
He pauses the movie and turns to face me all the way. "Seriously, what's up? You've been weird lately."
Tears well in my eyes. I want to tell him so badly. I need him to know. He sees that I'm upset and pulls me into a hug. "Come on, what's wrong? You can tell me." He looks me in the eyes. "Is it a boy?"
I sniffle and nod. He clucks sympathetically and pulls me into another tight embrace. I want to stay there, in his arms, forever. But he sees me as his brother. He's normal.
I take a deep breath. I have to tell him. "I have to tell you something," I say quietly, my voice trembling with unshed tears. "I, uh...I'm different."
He chuckles. "I am, too. You don't have to worry about that."
I shake my head. "No, I mean I'm really different. I have some problems. Or aproblem." He looks confused. Fuck, this is going to be hard. I take another deep breath and begin to speak quickly. "I'm really sorry, and I understand if you hate me, but I can't help it, and I know it's wrong and gdisgusting, and I'd hate me, too, but I have to tell you, and I've been holding it in for so long, and..."
"Shh." He puts a finger to my lips, and I fall silent. "Now tell me slowly."
I close my eyes and exhale deeply. "I love you. No, I'm in love with you."
Silence. Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I knew it was a bad idea. I fucking knew it. I open my eyes slowly, trying to prepare myself for the horrified look on his beautiful face. But instead, I hear laughter. My eyes fly open. Shit, he thinks I'm kidding. Maybe it's better this way? I open my mouth to tell him that I don't feel well, so that I can go into my room and cry when he catches me off guard: "You're not a freak."
WHAT?! I look at him, shocked. "Wh-what?"
"You're not weird. I...uh...I've been in love with you. For a long time."
I stare at him, trying to register what he's telling me. He loves me? Suddenly, my mind is whirling and the biggest grin has spread across my face. "You-you do?"
He nods, and a blush creeps up his neck and colors his cheeks. He leans in and places a gentle kiss on my lips. "I love you so much."
And before eithe rof us can second-guess ourselves, our mouths meet, opening and moving together. He licks my bottom lip, and I tangle my fingers in his hair. He pulls his lips away from my lips and leaves a trail of hot kisses down across my jawline and down my neck, where he sucks and bites gently.
And suddenly, he bites down hard, and I can feel blood flowly from my neck. I let out a loud cry--it feels so amazing, his lips and his teeth and my own blood all mingling to form an amazing sensation in my lower belly.
He pulls away. "I'm sorry!" he says, looking guilty. "I'm being to rough, I shouldn't have. I'm...sorry..." He trails off as I place soft
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