Washing Up?

He caught me watching him over the table, and grinned at me, raising his cup of orange juice in a mock toast. I smiled back, raising my glass slightly as well, happy to play along with his little game. I was about to take a drink, when I realized my cup was empty.

Josh had been watching me in amusement, wondering when I'd notice, and when I looked in the glass, a bit confused -- I swear I'd only just filled it! -- he reached over and took the glass.

'Here.' He said, chuckling slightly as he refilled it. 'I think you might have put some alcohol in this, hmm?'

'Oh, yeah, you know me. Always looking for a chance to get drunk.' I shook my head at him, and took the glass back. 'Thanks.'

He let out a soft laugh, returning to his food.

Let me sketch a quick outline. I was 19, Josh was 20. He was my brother, and he had been thrown out of his flat -- he was very hazy on the details, and I knew better than to press him -- he could be very hard to live with sometimes! He was staying with me until he got somewhere else to live, which I had no problem with, I got on well with him, and he was good fun. I hadn't seen him for a couple of years, since he moved out, and he had changed a lot. He used to be a lanky teenager with no real sense of balance and very inexperienced, staring at me when he thought I wasn't looking, but I just found it funny. Now he was a lot more confident, and, although still thin, not as ridiculously stick like as he was before. His dark brown hair had grown out, flopping over his eyes, blue eyes, like mine. Eyes that always had a happy twinkle in them, that twinkle had got me through many problems. All in all, he had improved. He still had the sense of humour that I liked so much, which explained the alcohol comment, which, from anyone else, I would have been a bit 'What the hell?' over.

I was really pleased that he was staying with me, I'd missed him a lot over the past two years, and Cathy, my roommate had just moved out, into her boyfriends' flat, so it really couldn't have come at a better time, which was why I'd actually made a dinner tonight, instead of getting one of those 15 minutes jobs from M&S, which, by the way, are delicious. Absolutely delicious.

When we finished it, I gathered the plates and dumped them in the sink, planning on washing them later on after I'd left them to soak a bit -- basically just stalling! I didn't enjoy washing up most of the time, unless I was having one of those bored days, when I wanted to scrub at a bowl, and feel very satisfied when I got a patch of dough or something off it.

I was just heading over to the sofa, where I'd left my book, when Josh interrupted me.

'Ahem, I think you've forgotten something, my dear girl.'

Slightly nonplussed, I turned around, and squinted at him. 'Huh?'

He raised an eyebrow and pointed towards the sink. 'Huh, what?'

'I'm leaving them to soak!'

'That won't help. You're just stalling, aren't you!' The last was not a question. He clearly was not going to let this go. As I walked fast him, muttering under my breath, he caught hold of me, and rubbed my head. 'I've missed you, you lazy sod.' He chuckled, planting a kiss on the top of my head and propelling me in the direction of the sink. 'If it makes you feel better, you can do the drying.'

Now completely nonplussed -- since when did Josh like doing washing up? -- I murmured an affirmative, and grabbed a dishtowel thing from the drawer I kept them in. He glanced over my shoulder as I opened it, and raised his eyebrow.

'You may hate washing up, but you sure as hell keep your dishtowels neatly folded.' He commented drily.

I didn't even dignify that with an answer, but couldn't help a grin cross my face, as Josh started to scrub at the plates, chatting to me as he did.

It went on... and on.... and on. I do have a reason for hating washing up, and this was it, it wasted so much valuable time. Josh clearly thought so as well, and he eventually picked up the bubbly liquid thing that I used for cleaning them, raised an eyebrow and gave me a look.

'Do you even... do you actually know what this is?' He asked in quiet disbelief.

I somehow knew that whatever answer I gave would be wrong in some way.

'Washing up liquid? Cathy gave it to me.'

Josh leant his elbows on the edge of the sink, and buried his face in his foam covered hands.

'It's flipping bubble bath liquid thing, my dear sister.' His voice was muffled against his hands, but I got the feeling he was suppressing laughter.

'It's bubble -- what?'

'It's bubble bath stuff.'

This was just great, wasn't it? I've been struggling with the stuff Cathy gave me for months, and now I discover its bubble bath liquid stuff.

God was cruel at times.

'It's bubble bath. It's flipping bubble bath.' I look at him, now definitely seeing his shoulders rocking up and down with laughter. 'Okay, I don't want to discuss it when I come back, okay? Josh?' I wasn't getting an answer, but as I started to leave the room, I heard his voice.

'Where are you going?' He asked, his voice breaking at the end with mirth.

'Shower.' I needed to wash some of the shame I was feeling off my body.

'Maybe you should get some washing up liquid and have a bath instead?' He was unable to get the last few words out and just spluttered them as I gave him a dirty look and left the room.

***

When I got to the shower, I flicked the switch on, and as I waited for it to warm up, I sat on the toilet lid and buried my face in my hands. Vision of Josh's hysterical face kept coming back to me.

I, personally, didn't see what the problem was. Bubble bath was pretty much the same as washing up liquid, right? Just... maybe slightly different...

I just did not want to think about it.

I dipped my hand in the shower of water, finding it was a good temperature. Hanging my towel on the rail, I quickly got undressed, and was just about to jump in the shower when I hear Josh barging into the room.

'FUCK!' he yelled, spinning around on his heel and jumping out of the door, me pulling up a towel to cover myself maybe two seconds too late.

I couldn't believe it -- I'd been reunited with my brother less than two hours before and two excruciatingly embarrassing things had already happened.

But there was something else that had shocked me, when he came in to the room; he had put his nightwear on, which consisted of a pair of loose blue trousers, leaving his upper torso bare. What had shocked me, wasn't so much that he had barged in, he didn't know the layout of the flat, he probably thought it was a bedroom or something, but that when I saw him in his nightwear, I had experienced a feeling that only one guy had ever ignited in me, him and my fingers.

As I slowly climbed into the shower, I couldn't stop thinking about his chest, exposed to my gaze. I mean, I'd seen it before, when he was still living at home, but he's changed in so many ways, it was, I suppose, naïve to think that his body had stayed the same. It wasn't so much that, that was making me feel terrible, but the fact that I wanted to see it again, the fact that I was starting to think about Josh in way that I'd always been taught was terribly wrong between relatives. As I stood in the shower, soaping my body, my right hand found my nipples, and gave them several tweaks, seeing them start to stand up, and my other hand slid down my body, my soapy fingers starting to play in between my toned thighs. I rubbed my lips, and was shocked to find moisture already gathered there, making it easy to slide a finger inside me. I only realised was I was doing a few minutes after I started -- I was imagining Josh making love to me, and when I realised that, I quickly withdrew my finger, and gasped.

'Shit. Shit, shit, shit.' I muttered to myself, leaving the shower, and turning off the water, as I dried my body, and brushed my hair into a ponytail, leaving it to dry on its' own -- it brought out the red colour more, and it was curlier when I left it on its' own. Wrapping a scarlet towel around me, I gathered my clothes, and tidied the room, intending to go and talk to Josh, try and get the impure thoughts I was starting to think about him out of my head. I crossed to the room Cathy had recently deserted and Josh had moved into, and knocked gingerly on the door. When there was no reply, I knocked louder, and then opened the door.

What I saw, I had no way to prepare for. Josh was lying on the bed, frantically rubbing himself, his eyes tightly closed and his breathing laboured.

For the couple of seconds I watched in dismay, I heard his moans form a word, and I slowly backed out of the room, closing the door gently behind me.

I crossed into my bedroom, and sat on the bed, kicking the door closed.

I felt completely dazed; unable to comprehend the word that my brother had said when he was touching himself. He'd said my name, 'Francesca.' I didn't know what to do, but one thing I did know.

Our relationship had definitely changed -- and for the good or the bad... only time would tell.