When I wake up the next day, I follow my normal routine of opening the blinds, doing my stretches, and leaving my room except, this time, I don’t think twice about walking out my door naked. When I walk out into the hall, I see Alex is already awake, doing exercises in his room. As always, he’s completely naked. I stop and watch for a moment as he squats, spreading his ass cheeks apart.
“Looking good, bro,” I say. He stands and turns to face me, still doing his squats. My eyes unashamedly take in his meat as it dangles from his groin.
“I’m glad you’re awake,” he says, then pauses as he does one more squat. “I got a favor to ask of you.” I’m not sure what exercises he’s been doing, but a sheen of sweat covers his body. I don’t want to look away, but the seriousness in his voice makes me look him in the eye.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“I’m going over to Mom and Dad’s today.”
I blink at him several times, stunned.
“Why the fuck are you going there?”
“I kind of left in a hurry when they kicked me out. I called them and told them I was going to go back to get the rest of my stuff. My friend, Terrell, is letting me use his truck.”
“What did you leave that’s so important?”
“Well, my artwork, mostly. But I also have a lot of expensive workout equipment. I was hoping I could put my treadmill, weight set, and weight bench in the basement.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s fine,” I tell him. “But…what do you need me…” Then it hit me. He wants me to go with him. To help him load his stuff into the truck. “No,” I say flatly. “Alex, I-I can’t go back there.”
He takes several steps toward me and the smell of his intoxicating musk wraps around me. He lifts his hand and reaches out to me slowly as if he’s about to take my cheek in his palm, but seems to think better of it when he lets his hand drop.
“They won’t be there, Zack,” he says, and my heart breaks at the crack in his voice on my name. He sounds as if he wanted them to be there. To see them one last time. “They told me to come while they were at church, grab my stuff, and leave my key on the coffee table. They—” he gives a dry, hollow laugh that communicates everything but humor, “—they told me they’d know if I stole anything.”
A burst of fiery anger ignites in me at his words, fueled by the hatred of my mother and Alex’s dad, Jack.
“Those fucking assholes,” I say quietly.
We stand there for several quiet moments until Alex breaks the silence.
“So, will you come with me?” I look at him. At his wide, blue eyes. “Please?” In that instance, I know that if Alex ever asked me to do anything while looking at me with those eyes, I’d say yes.
“Of course I will,” I tell him. Then, to try to convince myself I’m not at Alex’s mercy, which under different circumstances would be electrifying, I say, “As long as they won’t be there. I never want to see them again.”
“Thanks, bro,” Alex says and hugs me, pulling our bodies together. I feel his sweat cling to me as he rocks me back and forth. The head of his cock rests against the side of mine and I feel his pubic hair on my bare skin. I don’t know if it’s weird to find body odor attractive, but his smells sweet and inviting to me. Suddenly, I want to bury my face in his armpit and sniff deeply. But, that’s weird…isn’t it?
Whether it is or not, I don’t get the chance. Alex breaks the hug apart and smiles at me.
“You want to make us some breakfast?” he asks, stepping back into the middle of his room. “I’m going to finish my workout.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Right after my shower.”
It’s hard to step away from Alex’s room, to leave him alone while he does his workout. I want to watch him. I want to smell the sweet aroma of his body as he works his muscles. I want to lick the sweat from his pecs while his cock throbs in my hand and he moans my name.
By the time I’m in the bathroom and the shower is running, I’m sporting a raging boner. I step into the water before it’s warmed up and the cold water does the trick of forcing my blood flow away from my dick.
About halfway through my shower, I hear Alex peeing in the toilet. Him being in the bathroom with me is no big deal until he slides the glass open and steps inside. He smiles appreciatively down at my soap-lathered body, the muscles along my stomach and sides stretched out as I lean backwards to wash the soap from my hair.
“You wash your hair bending backwards?” he asks me.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask, incredulous.
“I didn’t think it’d be a big deal,” he says with a shrug. “We’ve showered together before when we lived together. Water conservation, little bro. Step aside, let me wet myself. We trade places and although I still feel uncomfortable with him being in here, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy watching the water cascade down his body, the way it fountains off the tip of his uncut cock.
“You’re really not comfortable with this, are you?” he asks me, looking me in the face. “We used to do this all the time,” he reiterates.
“I know, I know,” I say, “but it feels different now. Now that we’ve…you know…”
“You’re okay with riding a dildo that’s clutched in my fist while I jerk you off, but you’re not okay with taking a shower with me?”
“That’s not fair,” I tell him. He visibly balks, then recovers.
“You’re right,” he says. “Like I said yesterday, you can set the pace for all of this. I’m sorry. Look, we don’t have to do anything but shower, if that’s what you want.”
Once Alex is lathered up with soap, which of course makes my dick stand at attention again, which of course makes him hard as well, he steps aside to let me wash off. As the water rinses the soap from my body, I turn to let the water run down my back and see Alex leaning against the wall, slowly rubbing his cock, the soap acting as lube.
“Is this okay?” he asks. I nod. Alex leans back farther, getting comfortable as I turn and spread my ass cheeks, letting the water run down the smooth skin, thankful I shaved the night before. He moans as he watches the water run over my hole. I rub it to make sure all the soap is washed.
“Oh, fuck yes,” he says, running his hand over his cock. To him, it must look like I’m rubbing my hole for him. His gasp of pleasure is too much for me. I can’t help it. I grab my own cock and start to work the shaft. I start to turn around, but stop when he says, “No, I want to see your ass.” I oblige, putting one of my feet up on the corner of the tub and bend over, making sure I’m completely exposed to him.
I reach down and pump some of my body wash into my hand and start working my cock, looking back at him. He’s looking at my hole as if hypnotized.
“Cum on my ass,” I tell him and he makes eye contact with me, pausing his jerking for a second.
“Are you sure?” he asks. I nod. He moves closer to me and starts jerking again, looking down at my hole. “Your ass is so fucking hot,” he says. His voice takes on a growl-like quality when he talks dirty that vibrates through my bones.
"Yeah?" I ask him. “You like that?”
“Oh yeah,” he says, “play with that hole for me.”
So I do. I swipe my fingers across my lathered cock and send them to my hole, spreading the bubbles across it as I play with the delicate skin. His jerking becomes erratic and he closes the distance between us. I feel his hot spunk mingle with the water as it shoots across my back.
“Can I finish you off?” he asks. I nod.
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him. His still hard cock slides between my ass cheeks, then comes to rest just at the top of the crack. His hand grips my cock, already slick from the soap and he rubs it while humping against my back.
“Oh, fuck,” I say, pushing my ass back into him. “Oh, fuck, Alex, don’t stop.”
“You want me to make you cum?” he growls.
“Yes,” I say and, already knowing that won’t be enough, I add, “please, Alex. Make me cum.”
He turns me sideways and pushes me up against the wall of the shower, pinning me against it. He takes my jaw in one hand and forces my head up to look him in the eye as he works my cock with his other fist. His face is so close to mine, I can feel the breath leave his mouth, the water dripping from his hair.
I gasp, my whole body shuddering as I cum. I shoot my load into his hand and it spatters his abdomen and both of our legs. He keeps jerking me through the part where my cock is too sensitive to be touched, sending my body jerking in almost painful ecstasy, but I know asking him to stop won’t work.
He lets go, panting, but smiling at me as if admiring a masterpiece painting he’s just finished.
“Better get cleaned up, little bro,” he says casually, as if he didn’t just give me the best orgasm of my life with nothing but his hand. “You’ve got breakfast to make.”
When I step out of the bathroom after toweling off and make my way into the kitchen, I feel almost as if I’m high. The sun seems to be brighter. The coffee sitting in the coffee pot smells sweeter than normal. I almost feel as if my skin is tingling.
Over the next thirty minutes while I make my eggs benedict, I hear Alex come out of the shower and head into his room. I can hear parts of a phone conversation, which I presume is with his friend, Terrell. I can’t hear Terrell’s side of the conversation and I’m so focused, I barely hear Alex’s side, but I can tell Alex is disappointed about something.
When Alex comes out of his room, about ten minutes before breakfast will be ready, I’m surprised to find him completely clothed in shorts, a T-shirt, and socks. He pours a cup of coffee for himself and sits at the island, watching me.
“I didn’t realize you’d put clothes on,” I say.
“Clearly,” Alex replies as he takes a sip of coffee, his eyebrows raised as he looks at my ass.
I get that strange feeling of being naked again. Which, of course, I am, but usually I don’t feel like I am around Alex.
“Here, let me go put on some clothes real quick,” I say, knowing I've got time. The water is about to boil for the poached eggs, but it’s not quite there.
“No,” Alex says. “I like to see you naked. Keep your clothes off.”
“Okay,” I say, but a strange feeling comes over me. It takes me a second to realize it’s the same tingling I felt when I left the shower with Alex. I wonder what this is…
When our breakfast is finished, I set our plates down next to each other and we eat in silence, each of us sipping our coffee. Alex keeps shooting me looks, making sure I know he’s looking at my naked cock. When he smiles in a satisfied way, I feel that tingling feeling again.
“Go get dressed,” he says, his eyes sweeping over me again. He stands and grabs our plates. “I’ll clean up. Terrell’s girlfriend is pregnant and has a doctor’s appointment, so he can’t bring us the truck. We have to go get it from him. We’ll head over to Mom and Dad’s house and come right back here.”
“Sure,” I say. I can’t really think of a better reply. In truth, my mind is still spinning from this morning and I’m trying to figure out what this tingling feeling is about.
Once we’re in my Malibu, a sense of apprehension fills me. I have a strong feeling we’re going to run into Mom and Jack at their house, even though I know Alex is right when he says they’re in church. It’s currently 9:00 AM. They’re probably sitting in a pew, trying to pray they gay out of both of us. Ironic that they kicked us out for being gay and now here we are, doing things together.
Alex isn’t the first man I’ve fooled around with. In fact, I had a steady boyfriend for most of culinary school and we did everything that couples do, including anal. And, even outside of actual relationships, I’ve had Grindr on my phone since I was sixteen-years-old. Most of what I’ve done would be considered vanilla by most of the gay community—ass eating, anal, cum eating, toys—and most of what Alex and I have done so far has been vanilla. Why then does it feel so different with him?
Because he’s my brother? My mind flashes back to when Alex said we weren’t really brothers. True, we don’t share genetics, but Alex has always felt like a real brother to me. Maybe because I’m the younger brother and I finally had someone to look up to. Someone who wasn’t just an older male, but who was gay, like me.
But what is this tingling? I don’t feel it, right now, in the car sitting next to Alex. But I felt it after the shower this morning, and when he told me to stay clothed. If I think back really hard, I even felt it when he was spanking me the other day, but the alcohol drowned it out.
“Don’t miss the turn up here,” Alex says, drawing my attention away from my thoughts.
“Yeah, duh, I’m not going to miss it,” I say, trying to sound annoyed. Truth is, I was thinking about him spanking me and would have missed it had he not said anything.
We get to Terrell’s house and Alex goes inside, leaving me in my car. He comes out a couple of minutes later with a key in his hand. I follow him to Mom and Jack’s and get out of the car.
I’m standing on the sidewalk, looking at my old house. This is where things are going to get tricky.
“You okay?” Alex asks, clearly concerned.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to give him a smile. But I’m not.
I was born in this house. My parents couldn’t get out of their driveway due to a snowstorm and the ambulances were blocked. My mother had to give birth to me in the bathtub.
I grew up in this house, playing in this yard. There, on the concrete slab in the middle of the yard is where my dad taught me how to throw a basketball. Once they learned I would never be a sports kid, they put a trampoline there. I broke my leg when I fell off and, in hindsight, maybe a trampoline on a concrete slab wasn’t the best idea. It was a great spot for the pool, however, until a neighbor shot a firework into the side of it during Fourth of July.
Alex grips my shoulder, but I barely feel it. Standing here, looking at the evidence of my past life, I feel as if I’m looking at my own dead body.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, thankful my eyes aren’t teary. “It’s just weird…being back here after so long.”
“Let’s get going. I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to,” he says. All I can do is nod and follow him in through the front door.
Ready for them now, I can much more easily push away the memories that try to come flooding back from the eighteen years I lived in this house. Alex and I carry his treadmill, weight set, workout bench, the rest of his clothes and possessions out to the truck. He insists I touch nothing as he loads his artwork into several boxes and carries them out himself. Before we leave, we ratchet strap everything down—Alex does his artwork himself—to make sure nothing goes flying.
Alex has already locked the door, leaving the key on the coffee table. I didn’t miss him taking one last look at the place. I don’t bother. I want to leave and never return. Luckily, we’re almost done and we haven’t seen my mother or Jack.
“Ah, Alexander.” I hear a voice say from the other side of the truck as I finish ratcheting the final strap. I recognize it instantly as the voice of Robert Hastings, Mom’s neighbor from across the street.
“Hey, Mr. Hastings,” Alex says. “How’s Genevieve?” Genevieve is Robert’s wife. She and Robert both hate me for being gay. I’m assuming Mom didn’t tell Robert, or he wouldn’t be talking to Alex anymore.
“Oh, her lumbago is flaring up again, but she’ll be alright,” Robert says.
Knowing I can’t hide from him forever, I come around to the other side of the truck.
“Alright, Alex,” I say, acting as though Robert isn’t there, “everything is secured. Let’s get this all home.”
“Oh,” Robert says, looking at me as though I were some particularly chunky dog shit he’d stepped in. “You’re here too, are ya, boy?”
“Please don’t speak to my brother like that, Mr. Hastings,” Alex says in a measured voice.
“Well, you know what he is. I’m surprised you’d ask help carrying this heavy equipment of a fag like—”
Alex steps closer to Robert and grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling Robert’s face to within an inch of his own.
“What did you call him?”
“Alex, no!” I say, trying to stay quiet so as not to draw attention to ourselves while also conveying how dumb of an idea this was, even if I wanted Alex to beat the living shit out of this homophobe.
"You’re defending him?” he asked. “Surely, your parents told you what he is?”
“Guess what, old man?” Alex asks. I’m actually in shock. I’ve never heard Alex be disrespectful to Robert. “I’m a fag, too. I love sucking dick and fucking men in the ass.”
“Get your hands off me, devil!” Robert cries, not bothering to keep his voice down, but Alex had let him go before the start of his sentence. Robert stumbles back and starts, well, not running, but he moves as fast as I’m sure he can back to his house.
“Vile! Sinners! Miscreants! Degenerates!” Robert yells as he makes his way back to his house.
“We should get out of here,” I say to Alex, and he nods. I make my way back to my car and follow Alex in the truck back to our townhouse, hoping Robert doesn’t call the police.
Once we get started, it doesn’t take us long to get everything down into the basement and we rest for a minute before taking Terrell’s truck back to his house.
Once we’re back home, Alex pulls me into a hug.
“Thank you so much, little bro,” he says. He pulls away from me, but keeps his hands locked on either side of my head. “I know it was hard for you, being back there.”
“It was,” I admit. “But I’d do it again for you. I’ll do anything for you.”
“Good boy,” he says, and I feel that tingle again.
And I realize what it is. This experience with Alex is unlocking something within me. Not just an attraction to my brother, but a kink I didn’t know was there. I liked it when Alex ordered me around. I liked it even more when he was pleased with what I was doing.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” he asks, looking at me. I nod. He smiles deviously, then commands, “Take your clothes off.” I do. I feel that feeling of wonder pass over me as he inspects me. My cock starts to swell under his gaze. He starts to undress, his eyes only breaking from my body in the instant it takes for his shirt to pass over his face. He moves to the couch and sits down.
“Come here,” he says, and I obey. “On your knees.” I drop to my knees before him, looking into his eyes.
He leans forward and grabs my chin, breaking the spell for a moment as he looks at me seriously.
“You still set the overall pace, you hear me?” Oh fuck. How does he make giving me permission to set the pace sound like an order? Why is him ordering me around so fucking hot? “Our safe word today is…” he pauses as if thinking of the perfect word and his eyes land on the sink, “…benedict.” He must be thinking of breakfast. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I say, and I see a twinkle in his eye.
“Good boy,” he says, sending a shiver up my spine. “Now, I’ve jerked you off. You’re going to do the same to me.”
He puts his arms on the back of the couch, looking down at me, his 8.5 in uncut cock between us. He stares at me, a look of power in his eyes and I know I’m helpless before him. I want to do more than jerk him off. I want to get over his feeling that he’s my brother because I want him so badly. I feel my mouth begin to water and I know what I’m going to do.
“You may begin,” Alex growls.
