Off with Her Pants

I bit my lip. It was definitely getting late, and missing sleep the night before hadn't done me any favours. I didn't want to leave while Denver was still up; that was the problem.

"Maybe one more episode?" I said.

"Sure. I'm game. You gonna get changed first or anything?"

I looked down at myself. "Why?"

"So you're ready for bed after? Because it's comfortable? I dunno. Was just asking."

"You just wanna see my panties again, don't you?"

Denver laughed. "Ha, yeah. You got me. This has all been an elaborate ruse."

"Well you never know. You are a boy, after all."

Denver nodded seriously. "And as we all know, boys are only interested in getting girls to take their clothes off. Even if the girl is their little sister. We're total pervs, the lot of us."

"I'm glad you understand."

Denver snorted and queued up the next episode on the tv. I stepped closer to my seat, but wasn't quite ready to sit down yet. There was an idea bouncing around in my head, and I couldn't seem to get rid of it. It was probably stupid, had the potential to get terribly embarrassing, and yet I couldn't help myself. My fingers trembled slightly as I started undoing my pants.

"What the hell are you doing, Relly?"

"What's it look like?"

"It looks like you're taking your pants off."

"Got it in one. Well done you."

I kicked my jeans off a little less smoothly than I would have liked, but it wasn't a bad performance over all. Once they were off, I felt even more like I might be making a mistake. But it wasn't a big deal; it was basically the same as what I wore to bed every night, and Denver had seen me in that kind of outfit many, many times.

There was a difference, though, and I couldn't pretend it didn't exist no matter how much I wanted to. Taking one's pants off for a boy meant something more than wandering around in a bedtime outfit did. There were implications. What was worse, and what I hadn't considered beforehand, was that my shirt was a normal-sized one rather than a longer nightshirt. Instead of giving my brother a flash of panties, he was seeing everything.

"Well that's... something," Denver said.

He stared at me intently, almost unblinking. I flushed and played with my hair in an attempt to hide my face. He wasn't supposed to be quite that interested.

"You don't have to look at me that way," I said.

"You took your pants off."

"So? You've seen me without pants lots of times. Last night, even."

I picked up my jeans and folded them, willing my hands not to shake at the mild exercise in dexterity. My nerves were going haywire. It was hard to blame Denver for being too interested in my state of dress when I was reacting the way I was. It was just underwear for fuck's sake. What the hell was wrong with us?

"It's different than usual," Denver said. "Usually your shirt's covering more of you when you're in your sleepwear."

"That's true." I fidgeted with my pants. My voice dropped to a quiet, uncertain tone. "Is this, like, not ok?"

"Oh, hey, no. It's fine, Relly." Denver flipped his seat back fully upright. He leaned forward earnestly. "I'm sorry for staring all weirdly. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. You should wear whatever you want to."

"But it's weird, isn't it? I just thought 'cause we were joking and stuff...." I looked down at the floor. "I should go to bed, maybe. It's too late for this. I'm not thinking clearly."

Denver grabbed my wrist before I could go anywhere. I looked at him curiously.

"You look good," he said. "That's why I was staring. Your nightshirts are so baggy that I never really saw... you know, what you actually look like underneath."

I felt the beginnings of a smile. "Really?"

"Yeah. You were just standing there, pants on the floor, and I couldn't help thinking that you're a girl."

"I... what?"

Denver sat back and sighed. "I mean, obviously you are. You just don't look like one to me most of the time. You're a sister, you know? It's... different." He shook his head ruefully. "That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

"Actually, it makes total sense."

"It does?"

I nodded. My confidence was slowly coming back to me. I draped my pants over the back of the couch, then sat down next to my brother. I pulled my legs up and swiveled to face him directly.

"That's kinda, like, the sort of thing I felt this morning," I said. "When I saw you and... and...."

"When I just woke up?" Denver asked softly.

"Yeah. You were very much a boy," I said with a nervous giggle. "And I'm not used to seeing you that way. It confused me. Still does. But it helps knowing that I'm not alone."

"And here I thought you were trying to get a peek at me this morning."

"Oh my god! Shut uuuppp."

I shoved Denver. He just started laughing. I couldn't help smiling, and even managed a few chuckles. He was just trying to break the tension, and I appreciated it even if his timing could have been better.

"Jesus, we're quite a pair, huh?" Denver said.

"I s'pose we are."

Denver's face graduated back to a more serious expression. His eyes scanned me up and down a couple times. "You really do look good," he said softly.

I wriggled, and squirmed, and blushed furiously. It was such a genuine compliment, and it felt so good coming from my brother. I couldn't meet his gaze without feeling my face heat up even more, but it thrilled me that he was still looking. It meant so much more from him than it would have from anyone else.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"Probably I'm being a little too pervy now, huh?"

"No," I said quickly. "I mean, you can look. If you want. It's not pervy."

"Yes it is." Denver reached out and brushed my cheek with his fingers. I looked at him and felt the intensity of his brilliant eyes. "But maybe it's ok to be pervy sometimes. Just a little."

I nodded without thinking about it. "Just a little," I repeated in a whisper.

The moment lasted for a small eternity. Our faces were so close together, my very soul bared through the windows of my eyes. Nothing happened, but the possibility of something was so tangible it hurt.

"One more episode?" Denver asked.

"Yeah, sure. One more."

Denver settled in his seat and started the show up. I remained where I was for several seconds, unsure what to do. Finally I lay back and stretched myself out across the couch. My legs ended up in my brother's lap, and one of my arms curled up under my head.

I stared resolutely at the tv screen at first. I refused to check on my brother constantly to see where he was looking. Probably he was watching the show. But what if he was staring at my butt instead? It could happen. He could have been examining any part of my body he chose, and I'd be oblivious to it. The thought was a distracting one, and more than a little confusing. I told myself I didn't care one way or the other, but that was a massive lie.

Something tugged on my sock. I looked down at my feet just as Denver pulled the sock all the way off. He grabbed the other one, and I kicked just hard enough to dislodge his fingers.

"Hey!" I protested. "Leave my socks alone."

"Why?"

"Because... because...." I struggled to think of a good reason. "You shouldn't be taking my clothes off without asking."

Denver's eyebrows arched dangerously high. "You mean it's ok to take your clothes off if I ask?"

"That's not what I meant."

"All I'd have to do is ask 'Relly, can I unwrap you like a Christmas present?' and you'd let me?"

"Gross, Den. I'm your sister."

"Well it was your suggestion. Don't blame me."

"Wasn't even."

Denver tugged at my remaining sock again, and this time I let him. I waited to see what else he'd do, but there was nothing else. He just set his hands on my leg and left them there.

It was frustrating not to know what my brother was thinking. There was something going on in his head, something about me. I just didn't know what it was. He had reabsorbed himself in the show we were meant to be watching, so I tried to do the same. It didn't work particularly well.

Every now and then, Denver would move one of his hands. He'd rub up and down my thigh or calf, then go still again. It was an idle, barely noteworthy gesture in some ways. Again, though, it was obtusely irritating because I didn't know what he was up to.

I sat up when the episode ended. It was definitely past my bed time by then. I was going to be cranky again in the morning.

"Den?"

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you take my socks off?"

Denver shrugged. "Seemed like the thing to do."

"What the hell kind of answer is that?"

"Well, you know, you look better with fewer clothes on."

"Oh my god!" I punched Denver's shoulder. "That's a little too pervy."

"I don't mean you need to be naked or anything--"

"Well thank god for that."

"--but I mean, look at you."

Denver held his hand out as though displaying me to an audience. I flushed as his gaze roamed my body, but I held still and let him look.

"You really like panties, huh?" I said.

"Kinda, I guess. But it's not really the panties that do anything for me. They're just material. When they're being worn, however...."

Denver's hand went to my hip. He slipped his fingers under my shirt and pushed them upward. The hem of my shirt lifted along with his hand. My breath caught and my heart pounded. I was both terrified and excited at the thought that he might just keep going.

"Your skin's very soft," Denver whispered.

I swallowed to moisten my mouth. "Thanks."

He smiled for a moment, then it faded away again. "Well, we should probably go to bed."

"Yeah, probably."

I didn't move. Neither did Denver. His warm hand remained on my tummy, just above my hip. It was an exquisitely confusing sensation.

"Good night," I said.

Denver's hand fell away. "Yeah, good night."

He got up and left the room. I stayed behind for a moment, then collected my clothes and headed to bed.

****

"You seem happier," said Fay.

She'd snuck up on me at my locker again. I was a little disconcerted at how intently she studied my face, but she was right; I did feel better than yesterday.

"I guess hanging out with you works wonders," I said. "I knew we were friends for a reason."

"Nooo," Fay said slowly, completely failing to react to my sarcasm. "There's something else."

"Like what? After you dropped me off last night I got in shit and spent most of the evening in my room. What possible detective work are you trying to accomplish?"

Fay cupped her chin like a television character looking thoughtful. "You're awfully quick with that alibi. I can only deduce that you're the murderer!"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh for fuck's sake." I slammed my locker closed and started walking to class.

It took Fay a few steps to catch up. She was still giggling to herself. "Relax, Relly. I'm not gonna grill you about it." She leaned closer. "But I know you were talking to your boy."

"What boy?"

"The one you were having trouble with. The one who's totally not your secret new boyfriend."

"Oh. Him."

I slowed my pace. Fay caught my arm and dragged me along with her.

"I'm going to find out one of these days. You know that."

I sighed heavily. "I'm afraid you just might."

****

I went straight home after school. Partly I didn't want a repeat of the night before, but mostly I truly had nothing better to do. Obedience and reality; together at last.

No one else was around when I got home. At first, I enjoyed the freedom my solitude afforded me. I put on some music in the living room and cranked it up so I could hear it from nearby rooms as well. I danced my way to the kitchen in search of a snack, then ransacked the fridge and cupboards to see what was available. There was a package of oreos on the back of a shelf. God only knew where they'd come from. I promptly absconded with the whole thing, rescuing the deliciously unhealthy cookies from a fate of being forgotten by the world.

Snack in tow, I made a concession to responsibility and brought my school bag to the living room. I had some homework to do, and it was a good time to do it. It felt like an absurdly poor use of my alone time, but I liked having more space to spread out than my room allowed. I also worked better, or at least less reluctantly, with a level of musical omnipresence that wouldn't be tolerated by other family members.

My books and papers were scattered across the floor in short order. I started with the easiest stuff first, on the basis that it meant I was more likely to at least get something done, and once it was finished there would be fewer things hanging over my head. It was a strategy that had served me adequately over the years.

I wasn't sure how long I worked for. It wasn't steady work time, for one thing. I got distracted by songs I really liked, or someone texting me, and sometimes I just got bored and zoned out for a while. All I knew was one minute I was alone, and the next time I looked up, Denver was standing in the doorway. I'd been singing along to the song that was playing, and the lyrics died on my tongue.

"Where'd you come from?" I asked.

Denver tilted his head. "What?"

I rolled my eyes and stood up. I hit the power button on the stereo, and the music died instantly.

"When did you get home?"

"I've been in my room the whole time. Heard your music from down there."

"Oh. Well... sorry. I thought I was alone."

Denver shrugged. "It's fine. I could only just hear it. Wasn't bothering me or anything. I only really came upstairs for a snack."

"And instead you seized the opportunity to perv on me some more."

"If that's what you want to think, go ahead. Personally, I wouldn't call it perving if you've got all your clothes on."

I folded my arms and stuck my hip out slightly. "Now you're trying to get my clothes off, huh? You just never quit."

Denver laughed and shook his head. "I hope you realize that your mind is going to these places all on its own. If I were you, I might take some time to examine what's going on up there."

He turned and went back to the kitchen. I grabbed the bag of oreos that I'd only barely touched, then jogged after him.

"Want some cookies?" I asked.

"Nice. Where'd you find those?"

"In the cupboard. They're probably, like, kinda old. But they were sealed, and they're still fine."

"I believe it. Mom hasn't bought any of this stuff in forever."

"More like a couple weeks," I corrected. "Ever since that one article she found in her stupid magazine."

"Fair enough."

Denver reached for the oreo package in my hands. I pulled it away, then swung it behind my back.

"Uh uh. What are you gonna trade me for them?"

Denver gave me a disbelieving look. "You're gonna demand compensation now?"

"At least a finder's fee."

It wasn't clear whether my brother was going to get annoyed, start negotiating, or possibly just tackle me and steal my prize. After an uncertain moment, his lips quirked into a sly smile.

"I got something," he said. "But it's something I already did."

I frowned. "What does that mean? And if you already did it, how does that make for a fair trade?"

"Well... let's just say that the latest issue of Mom's health magazine might have... failed to reach her."

My eyes slowly widened as I parsed Denver's implication. "You mean you swiped it before she saw it?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny such an accusation."

He stepped toward me, got very close to the point we were almost touching. His arm snaked around my body and grabbed the bag of cookies. For a second or two his face was as near to mine as it had probably ever been. His eyes were impossibly devious and bright, and his breath was hot on my cheek. Then he stepped back again, nutritionally deficient snack within his grasp.

"Thanks," he said. "I'll get out of your hair now."

Denver retreated back downstairs. I watched after him until his footsteps had receded from hearing distance, then reluctantly went back to the living room. He'd actually taken the whole package of cookies, the fucker. I still wanted more of them.

Now that I knew my brother was home, I was much less interested in my work. Losing my snack and music didn't help. Both could be retrieved with minor effort, but my heart wasn't in it. Besides, I'd done pretty good already. Most of my homework was finished.

I didn't even sit down before I was back out of the living room again. That wasn't where I wanted to be right now. I opened the door to the basement and belatedly followed Denver down to his room.

Denver's door was closed. There was no sound from inside. I hesitated, then knocked softly. When there was no immediate response, I knocked louder.

"Yeah? What?"

"It's me. Can I come in?"

"Sure."

My brother was at his computer. He had a big pair of headphones on, and was focused fairly intently on his screen. He glanced at me as I came in.

"You need something?" he asked.

"No. Not really."

After a moment, the view on Denver's monitor shifted from a gun to a corpse. He'd been shot, I assumed. I didn't do so well at following his games. He pulled his headphones off and set them on his desk.

"Sorry, what?" he said.

"Nothin'."

"Nothin'?"

"Well... I dunno. You wanna hang out?"

Denver snorted. "I'm in the middle of a match here, Relly."

His disembodied gun started floating around again. The change in his attention was obvious. At least he could hear me now.

"How long you gonna be?"

"I dunno. Five minutes? Ten maybe?"

"'K."

I wandered around the room while I waited. Denver looked over his shoulder at me from time to time when he got the chance. He shook his head once, but didn't say anything about it.

"How come you wear those headphones while you're playing?" I asked out of idle curiosity. "You're not bothering anyone down here. You could just use your speakers."

"I could. But the thing is, you see, with headphones I can hear directionality better."

"What?"

Denver sighed. "I can hear which direction shots and footsteps and things are coming from. It's better."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense. But doesn't that mean you're at a disadvantage now?"

"Yep."

I smirked. "What, don't trust me in your room?"

"More like if I put them back on, you're still gonna try talking to me. It's not worth it."

I stuck my tongue out at the back of my brother's head. It was a wasted gesture, unfortunately.

I browsed through Denver's stuff rather more overtly than I usually would have. Partly I was just trying to get his attention, and not succeeding very well. Partly, too, a lot of it was interesting, in its own boring way. Like a whole series of fantasy novels that were each long enough to put me in a coma by themselves, let alone the entire collection. Or the small stash of chocolate bars he had hidden behind some old textbooks on a low shelf.

"Please stop poking around everywhere," Denver finally said. "I'm almost done. I swear."

"Why? Afraid I'll find your porn?"

"What year are you living in? You think I have... what, magazines or something?"

"I dunno. Maybe?" I sighed dramatically. "What's the world coming to when boys don't even keep embarrassing literature for family members to awkwardly stumble upon."

"Yeah. That's a real shame."

I'd never actually suspected that there would be physical magazines lying around. Somehow, though, now that I'd put the idea in my own head, I was disappointed that there was no chance of finding anything of the sort. Probably that was a weird thing to feel. I just wanted something to tease my brother about was all.

I flopped back onto Denver's bed. The mattress bounced nicely beneath me. There wasn't much chance of me finding anything to bug him about, not really. If he had anything worth hiding, a casual inspection wasn't likely to uncover it.

One of the ceiling tiles above me was slightly out of place. There was the slightest of gaps where it should have fit snugly into place. At first I just wondered if the disturbance in an otherwise perfect pattern bothered Denver when he was lying in bed. Then, after a moment of reflection, I realized that he might have actually been the one responsible.