Just Watch the Fireworks

Soon after I jerked myself thinking about the kiss and his body. It was the hardest orgasm I had ever had.

The next morning I was sitting at the kitchen counter, nervously tapping my feet on the barstool as I awaited the tornado of brothers and parents to get breakfast. But nobody came except for Levi, who tried to guilt me into going for a jog with him. I had grown weary of his tactics, as he wasn't actually trying to get me to come as much as he was boasting about going himself. I gave him the satisfaction and validated his determination. After twenty minutes he left and I was alone again.

Mom had apparently already gone to the store and Dad was at work already. With Kevin likely in a slumber for another four hours, all that was left was...

"Hi," he said faintly, as if was greeting me for the first time in his life. I hated this. But it was my turn.

"I'm sorry," I said confidently.

"You should be. It's fucking disgusting," he said, angrily packing a bowl and milk.

"I said I was sorry," I answered humiliated. I had expected some resentment but not this.

"Yeah well that's not good enough!" He said throwing his bowl across the counter, milk splattering against the window.

"I thought you said you didn't care about my feelings for guys!"

"I don't!"

"So why are you screaming at me!" I wanted to stay strong but the tears came out of nowhere. I was shaking to my core. Guess I really was a leaf.

Brad was with me in two big steps and was seething as he towered over me.

"What did I say yesterday? About people doing terrible things for sex."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Why is incest wrong, Rory?" He seemed to calm down, getting back into lawyer mode. This calmed me too, though the name dropping cut me like a knife.

"What? Are you crazy?" I recoiled in disgust.

"Answer me," he said, now back in his normal manor.

"Because it gives deformed babies." I had to laugh and the tension was broken.

"True, but that hardly is the only part." He said, cracking something slightly resembling of a smile. I shrugged, signaling I gave up.

"It's because of the power difference. Family members are required to provide and care for each other. To provide a safe home to grow up in. Mixing sexuality with that, is morally wrong because it goes against that very principle."

"Alright," I said, completely having lost the plot.

Brad stared at me as if he had asked me something. When I looked away in confusion, he kept going.

"There are too many cases of family members, taking advantage of the safety and care they should give, to get sex."

Once again he looked at me in anticipation, and now I was feeling stupid, which irritated me.

"But that's not you!"

"How do you know?" He said firmly. I was shocked. Was this a confession of sorts?

"You can't," he continued. I'm older. I'm your role model," he said, ignoring my mocking snort, "I have a power position because I am your brother. I'm also older, stronger, more experienced. Just because you think you know me, doesn't mean you do. You can't just trust everyone when it comes to sex, Leaf. Because you don't know what I, or any other man, related or not, might use you for."

"Jesus, I need coffee if this turns into a full hour lecture," I said jokingly, getting up from my seat.

Brad pushed me down angrily.

"Listen to me. You're vulnurable. You're inexperienced. I talk to you about seeking safety in sex and your response is to kiss your own brother. That tells me you're not ready for either sex or safety. Your compass is off and you need to work on that before someone else takes advantage of it and I'm not around to beat them or walk away. Because some people might not walk away. Do you hear me?"

I looked into his eyes and saw the concern. My stomach was fluttering again, with the love and protection he was giving me. Which is exactly what he meant, I felt. So I nodded.

"I hear you and I'm sorry. It won't ever happen again," I said, noticing a slight look of disappointment in his eyes.

"Good, I won't tell anyone. It was an honest mistake and we'll forget it ever happened." He said it so firmly he might as well have shot me right then and there. He walked away, all big and confident the issue had been put to bed.

I turned and walked out, trying to hide the tent in my shorts. This was probably going to be more difficult than I anticipated.

Six months passed without another serious conversation between me and Brad and without any incident of me falling for the wrong man. While Brad was mostly occupied with college again, my struggle hadn't dissipated.

In fact, the more I tried to listen to him and not think about him, the more I wanted my own brother. I masturbated sometimes six times in a row, thinking of him holding me. I started getting into step-brother stuff and even found an artsy movie about two Brazilian brothers making love.

I had completely forsaken girls, but also most men. Pretty much every man except for one. When he walked by I inhaled his perfume. When we sat next to each other on the couch and touched legs I had to use the bathroom to get off. When he told jokes I laughed harder and if he was away I felt hollow. There was no denying. I was in love with my older brother.

I knew it was wrong, I understood I should be jailed, but nowhere in life did I feel as loved as safe as in my fantasy of Brad loving me back. Why was that so wrong? For two men, who can't make ugly babies, to be in love? To care for each other from birth to death? Isn't life finding that one person who makes you feel whole? Who takes away your fears and doubts and empowers you to be better? What law says that person can't be your older brother?

Every time that justification popped up, I let my imagination run wild. And the best sex with myself I ever had was imagining all the things Brad and I could do together. But I knew it was for naught.

Brad had gotten a girlfriend and he was practically living with her, thinking of buying a place of his own to be closer to her.

It made it easier for me. Not having to see him every day meant he could remain a fantasy and I not a pervert.

Until July 4th.

Brad and Fay, as she was annoyingly called, had come home for the holiday and spend the weekend with us. This time there was a party for one of my old childhood friends Lindsey, who's best friend knew Fay and thus invited her too. Great. My one escape this weekend was sabotaged. Still, we went separately and I kind of enjoyed that Brad didn't push harder to go together. Perhaps we had driven apart and that was for the best.

The party was fine. Everybody did their best to get as drunk as fast possible, but that also meant everybody was hooking up. Which inevitably left me coasting through the crowd by myself. I had almost forgotten my brother was at this party until I saw him blatantly making out with Fay in front of everyone. And anger overcame me.

I wanted to run up to her and tear her off him. Drag her by her hair and throw her through a window. Smack her and tell her he was mine before he was anything to her.

As I furiously calmed myself, reminding me that Fay was a sweet girl who did no wrong, and turned away, I saw him looking at me. I still walked away, downing the beer in my hand.

"Bro, wait up," he shouted over the noise as he followed me outside. I found a keg and filled my cup before downing that one too.

"I really want you to come hang out with us and meet Fay, she's amazing, you'll love her I'm sure," he said, excited like a young dog.

"I'm good, we'll hang out tomorrow all day remember?" I answered, filling my cup again.

He looked at me. Really looked at me. His eyes piercing my soul. He knew why I was acting this way.

"Yeah, I guess we will.." he turned shy again, looking down at the ground.

"It'll be fun!" I said, sipping a beer as I looked past him at Fay, who was waving so friendly I wanted to throw my drink at her. Brad caught me looking. I cringed, faked a smile and turned away.

Maybe this was good. This interaction had been so thoroughly awkward, it was hard to imagine this was the same guy I had been pining over the past few months. Maybe I wasn't in love with my brother. Maybe I was in love with a completely fictional character in my head!

Whatever happiness and relief stemmed from that thought immediately evaporated for worry, since that wasn't necessarily a healthier substitute.

"Yo," a smooth voice said close to my ears. I looked up and saw Abdel, trying to look indifferently at the sky. "How you been?" He said as he turned to me and smiled.

I immediately melted. I had seen Abdel only once since the incident, in a supermarket, before I ran the other way. But now he was in front of me I had completely forgotten how hot he was. Perfectly trimmed beard, a fade on his head, dark brown eyes, and a smile that made me weak in the knees.

"Come," he said as he nodded to the side of the house and walked in that direction in his striped dress shirt and shorts. He grabbed my hand and pulled me with him. It felt so erotic, so secretive, to do hold his hand in front of everyone.

I drank my cup and threw it away and followed him around the corner to the side of the house, ready to completely choke on the biggest dick in the world again.

Instead, Abdel threw me against the side of the wall, under a window, where people were partying inside, and pushed his tongue in my mouth. He was hungrily making out and I surrendered completely. It wasn't like my kiss with Brad at all. It was rough, a fight almost, desperate and lustfull.

He picked me off the ground and held my legs as our crotches crashed into each other. Our wet tongues were dancing and fighting and going as deep as they could. I was in heaven.

"Fuck you're cute," he said and I felt the most special girl in the world. We made out more and he lifted me up higher, I looked down on him and was in love. Forget how he made me feel back then. This was a whole man. I lowered my face and we kissed as he spinned me in the air.

When I came up to catch my breath I was staring into the eyes of Brad, who was looking at us from inside. By being so high I was now visible through the window. Only he spotted me. For a moment I was scared of disappointing him, but then the alcohol took back over and I purposefully started slobbering with Abdel. Only this time I kept my eyes open.

As I was digging into this man with my tongue, I was looking directly at my brother. I wanted to hurt him for being with Fay. For rejecting me. For abandoning me. For lecturing me, but not listening to me. I wanted him to care again.

Brad was seething. Somehow nobody noticed but his fists balled, his shoulders rose, his brows frowned. He looked like a gorilla ready to beat his chest.

And then it dawned on me. I knew this wasn't about safety or some shit. I knew this was not normal brotherly behavior. But I hadn't thought of why until now. Brad... wanted me too. He was fucking jealous. He had a girlfriend and he was jealous of a man taking his little brother. Victoriously I felt up Abdel some more before he let me down.

"Wanna go to my place?" He said, out of breath like a crackhead asking for just ten dollars. I laughed.

"No," I said and I walked away, feeling stronger than ever. I had to look for Brad. I had to confront him and make him admit it.

Inside the party was slowing down with everybody increasingly horny and drunk and pairing off. As I looked for my brother, my heart dropped to the floor. I saw Brad and Fay stumble into a bedroom and close the door behind them.

The thumps of my heart echoed through my head. I heard no people no music, nothing, but the beat of blood surging through me. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move. I could only stand there and bawl my fucking eyes out. Abdel had followed me in and said something about me teasing him. I grabbed his shirt and dragged him to the least secretive hiding place and dropped to my knees.

I sucked his cock with such fury so deep it was like I had done it for years. When his seed flooded in my mouth and I swallowed it away, while gasping for air finally, I started to cry. Abdel looked positively horrified and sat down to hold me. I pressed my face into his arm and cried.

I never cried this much, at least not since I can remember. I cried more than when I hit my head on the kitchen counter and blood was gushing everywhere. I cried even more then when some bully stole my expensive first phone and I couldn't prove it was him. No, this pain, this sorrow, was on a new level. Sure, it was aided by the booze, but I was broken.

Every second Brad didn't come downstairs, every second he was up there with her, I felt like a killer had gutted my insides and replaced it with a ocean of tears that needed to get out. Ultimately I cried for a whole hour, before Abdel's soft whispers that everything was going to be alright, finally sunk in.

He brought me home and apologized profusely, and I confirmed again it was nothing he had done, thanking him dearly. I went to bed but didn't sleep until the sun came up. And for the first time in months, I had no need to fantasize about my brother before the sleep took me.

***

The best part about the Fourth of July is that it really doesn't start until late in the day. No family breakfasts, no forced unwrapping of gifts, no need to sit with my brother for hours on end. I stayed in my bed until 2 and then got dressed to go to a the river where most of my classmates would spend the night.

As dinner time rolled around my mom and Levi started texting me where I was. I said I wasn't coming but that only led to an angry voice mail of my dad saying he wanted the whole family together for the one fucking meal a month he was there. That actually made me want to come back, but I couldn't face Fay or Brad, so I declined.

It was already eight when I was drunk and a very handsome straight guy from out of town, equally buzzed, biceps bulging in the sun, sneakily complimented me on how much I looked like a girl. He was interested, I was sure of it, and I acted like a gitty schoolgirl. My voice becoming high pitched, twirling with my hair and leaning on one hip. I was just about to offer him to take a walk and suck his soul out of his body when a strong grip pulled me away.

"You think this is funny?" Brad said furiously as he pushed me up the slope, away from the river and towards the tree line where the cars were parked.

"Hey what the fuck man," the hunk said.

"Beat it, Abercrombie, it's my brother," Brad sneered, raising his chest and broadening his shoulders, signaling however fit this guy was he would be pulp in a few seconds. The guy looked at me, clicked his tongue and turned around to talk to other people.

A few months ago I would've creamed myself at the thought of this macho behavior over me. But now I couldn't stand Brad. I wanted him to go away with Fay and never return.

"If they wanted me to come, they really shouldn't have sent you," I said as I pushed back and wanted to walk around him. Brad was way bigger and quicker than me though, never mind my terrible alcohol induced coordination on a hill side and I fell into his arms.

"Look at you, you're pathetic. Drunk already," he muttered angrily.

"Not as pathetic as you faggot," I said, wiggling free from his grip as I begrudgingly walked the way he wanted, though I put some distance between us, like a child.

"What did you just call me?"

"You heard me!" I laughed, as we moved away from he crowd and over the hill. I gathered Brad had come last and so his car was parked way down the road. It was quieter here in the forest, actually kind of beautiful, though I was too upset to care.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Brad replied.

"Why are you here Brad? Just go to your stupid girlfriend and leave me alone!" I was slurring my words so much I was actually drooling.

Out of nowhere Brad pushed into me like he was in one of his games and I nearly fell to the ground. Narrowly I held myself up by holding to a tree trunk but my side hurt like a mother. I looked back.

"Don't call her stupid or I'll break your face," Brad said, seething like a bull.

"No, you wouldn't Brad. Because you love me more than her," I said mockingly. Brad was surprised by this and calmed down.

"Just don't call her names," Brad said slightly embarrassed.

"You work on your anger problems first," I scoffed.

"You work on not being a whore," he said quietly but loud enough for me to hear. Now it was me who lunged at him.

Of course, he blocked my attack without breaking a sweat. That didn't stop me though and I started hitting him, as if anyone needed further proof I was gay.

"I hate you!" I screamed in the empty forest. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

He pushed me back and I started running. The tears came again and I wanted to die. I ran into the forest away from the cars and as fast as I could. Of course, Brad fast was fast and tackled me to the floor. As soon as we landed and I gasped for air after my back hit the ground, Brad let go. Leaving me to wrestle free and escape. Brad pulled me back and I started hitting him again.

"Let go of me! I hate you!" I screamed and battled as he held me still and we kept rolling over the moss and dirt until we finally stopped.

He was on top of me, holding my arms so I could no longer hit him. I looked up at him, instally relaxed by the weight and safety of his body and painfully aware this is what I had imagined in my head so many times.

We looked into each other's eyes as we caught our breath. The heat of our bodies on top of each other settling in. The quiet of the forest taking over. The beauty of his face mesmerizing me once more. But it was him who reached down with lips, before stopping mid air.

I lifted my head to greet them, but I was afraid of angering him again, like I had once before. I couldn't give myself to him, not anymore, not after last night. He had to do this. He had to admit it to himself or else I'd die. And he did.

It wasn't sloppy or wild as it was with Abdel. This was more restraint, sweeter, brimming with anticipation. Brad gave short kisses, every one a decision to engage in this. He pushed his tongue in and then pulled back. He pressed his lips on me hard and then softly recoiled.

I checked his reaction but I might actually saw tears in his eyes.

"I can't pretend with you," he whispered.

I met his lips and once they touched I drew him back down. His entire body sank deeper onto me, and I spread my arms and legs, welcoming him. At every little kiss we pulled back until finally I opened my mouth and led him in. It was as if two bodies locked into each other. My short, frail one, spreading arms and legs to melting into his massive one, protecting me from the world.

Our tongues didn't clash, they danced, they swirled in unison. Our mouths became closed off, a fortress to contain our love. The warmth of our breath escaping at every gasp for air. The bulges in our pants sliding past one another before settling in the crevices of the other his jeans. Until the kiss took our bodies and minds into the plane of being where nothing exists but the pleasure of our mouths.

"I love you more than her," he moaned into me.

"I want you more than them," I said, my voice breaking.

He looked at me, as if he was surprised to hear this. Perhaps he was. Perhaps he was a fool, who didn't understand just how much I had wanted him these past few months. This time he leaned down and the kiss turned wilder. His tongue more forceful. His head crashing down harder.

Our cocks were so hard we could barely feel the fabric in between anymore. He was grinding against me, like a beast, rolling his back, doing the movements God, state, family and the rest of the world had forbidden brothers to do, but which came so natural to us both. I met every thrust by rolling my hips further up and spreading my legs wider.