The Scholarship Ch. 02 - Twins Explore

I wake to the familiar sound of my sister's voice, something I've heard every day of my life--often woken to if I'm honest--pulling me from the black of dreamless sleep. I don't open my eyes yet, but let out a grumble of acknowledgement, despite not having truly processed her words, and roll over on my side. This earns me a poke in the ribs, just below the fourth rib on the left side, Lauren's favorite target. No matter my orientation or position, she could poke that exact spot from across the room, given a long enough finger.

"M'up," I mumble at her.

"Well part of you is anyway," she giggles. I open my eyes and am greeted with a close up view of my sister's trimmed bush. Oh yeah, we're naked.

The memories of yesterday, what we've gotten ourselves into, and what I did last night with Ms. Larson, all flood my mind. I turn away from her pussy, inconveniently at eye level, and see what she's talking about: the massive tent that my morning wood is pitching under the thin blanket. "Oh."

"It's less obvious when you're wearing clothes, I guess," she said, sitting next to me on the bed. I scoot over a little bit to give her room before I even consider what she's doing. We're naked! Why is she sitting so close to me and my boner?

I decide it's best to ignore the weirdness and try to carry on normally. As normal as I can be with my sister's tits in my face. "What time is it?" I ask, noticing that it's still dark outside. My phone is elsewhere, maybe on the desk? Maybe on the nightstand? Not in my hand, that's for sure.

"5:20 or so. I woke up at 5:10, bathroom and all that, then came in here to bother you."

5 in the morning? "Why on Earth would you come wake me up this early? Why are you up this early? Are you dying?"

"It's 8 our time," she explains. Oh yeah, we're all the way across the country. That would explain why I feel well rested despite it being 5 in the morning.

"It's still dark out, I don't wanna be up when it's dark out," I whine, playing up the role of a petulant child. We're so used to acting in our little movies that we slip into roles all the time. Now, me as a whiny kid and her waking me up. It's easier to play these roles when they're eighty percent true.

"Well your sister is awake and bored and it is your job as my twin brother to fix that." She pokes me again, and again. They aren't going to stop until I wake up, that's the only defense against Lauren's pokey assault. I roll over again, onto my stomach and wince briefly as I trap my erection beneath me.

"I'm getting up, jeez," I swat at her hand but she's faster than me and pulls it away. I'm left swiping at air, and earn another poke in the ribs. "You butthead," I grunt, shifting to a sitting position, the blanket still over my dick to hide that while it goes down.

"We're twins, dummy. Makes you a butthead too." She sticks her tongue out at me. It's a gesture I'm used to, and usually it's kinda cute, in an annoying sister way. But now, with the tongue being positioned just above her perky tits with nipples pointing straight at me, it makes me feel funny. I can't keep my eyes off of them. I know I shouldn't stare, but they're boobs. And God, boobs are fantastic. Maybe eventually I'll stop turning into an idiot whenever tits are in my face, especially when they're on display all day every day, but I haven't gotten there yet. She goes to poke me again and this time I'm awake enough to snatch her hand out of the air.

I stick my tongue out at her, returning fire for her previous affront to my person. It quickly turns to a warm smile, however, and I squeeze her finger. "How are you doing?" I ask quietly. For the moment all teasing is gone and forgotten. It's just siblings checking in on each other, knowing there is no one else in the world who understands us as well as we do.

"Good," she says too quickly, and I stare at her, gently squeezing that finger until she opens her hand and slides her fingers between mine. It's never been a romantic thing for us. We were born holding hands, and have always felt safe and secure like this. I want her to know she's safe here, and doesn't have to lie. "Overwhelmed," she says after a moment, sheepishly smiling at me for the lie. "It's a lot. It's all just so much to try and take in, and I'm not..." she waffles around, literally shifting her torso back and forth while she thinks of the words, "I'm nervous. About meeting the other students, about school starting, about what we're gonna tell Mom and Dad this summer. There's a lot going on up here," she taps a finger against her temple, "and I'm trying to be cool about the nudity thing, because we have to deal with it for four years, but it's weighing on me." She falls silent, looking mostly at my bare chest, but I can see her eyes dropping down to my groin now and then. My morning wood is on its way out, but it had been front and center for a little while there. It's also a more potent and aggressive sign of arousal and sexual desire than anything she has. A reminder that we're both 18 and entering our sexual prime.

"Why?" I ask simply, prompting her to continue.

"Because all of these women are hot," she blurts out, and I cock my head at her, not sure I heard or understood her correctly. "Ms. Larson is gorgeous, Julie and Delilah are attractive, even the pictures in the hall of Alex and Kayla are hot, and I haven't even seen them in person!" She huffs and tries to pull her hand away from me but I don't let her. I squeeze it tight. Always. "And I'm just me," she finishes quietly, looking down. This is a much heavier conversation than I was expecting to have at 5:30 in the morning.

"I've got a bunch of questions right now," I take my time pronouncing the words, in no rush to get through this conversation. I've got nowhere better to be. "But maybe we should start with: do you think you're ugly? Because I'm about to be offended," I grin at her.

Lauren giggles and rolls her eyes. That's a win already. "No, well I dunno," she replies unhelpfully. "I don't think I'm ugly, but I don't look like them. I'm not... Ms. Larson looks like she could be a model, and did you see Delilah's huge boobs?"

"I saw them, don't worry about that," I joke. Lauren smiles, but continues over me.

"I'm just... I'm average, you know? I'm not some super hot model with perfect skin or big boobs or a waxed vagina or..." she trails off and looks down at her body. I follow her gaze. She's right, in a way. She doesn't have huge boobs, but they're perky and alluring in their own way. Sure her skin isn't perfect, but we're 18 and grew up poor, where any amount of skin care past a daily shower was too much a luxury to consider.

"I think you're beautiful," I say, looking back up from her chest to her eyes. They brighten when I say that, but she reaches up with her free hand and slaps my leg gently.

"You're my brother, you have to say that."

I squeeze her hand again. "No, I mean... Yes, that's true, but also I think I'd still mean it. Don't compare yourself to these other women. You're gonna be ok. Besides, you're not competing with any of them. And I bet none of them are going to judge what you look like."

She mulls this over for a moment, then a mischievous look forms in her eyes. "I dunno, Joe," she says, "Ms. Larson seemed to only want to talk about how pretty your penis is!" She laughs, earning a scowl from me. "Seriously, she called it pretty! I've never seen another one in person but... hard to disagree," she continues teasing. I perk up at that. Not my cock, just my ears.

"You think my dick is good looking?" I ask, smirking.

"Best and worst I've seen in person," she teases.

"Jerk."

"Really, it's... I mean not because it's yours or anything, but objectively. Objectively, it's a good looking penis."

"Just like objectively," I stress the word just like she had, "you're a very pretty girl. And you need to not worry about comparing yourself to these other women." I squeeze her hand hard, then lift it to my lips and kiss her fingers. "But I'm just saying that because I'm your brother and I have to say that."

Lauren squeaks at me and pulls her hand away, grabbing one of my pillows and launching it into my face. I laugh as she hits me with it, and by the time I get it off of my face, she has another in hand, swinging it at my face. I'm lucky they're very soft, expensive pillows, because Lauren swings a pillow like she's competing for gold. I roll with the hit to the side, and let my head fall to the bed.

I take my lumps, laughing like a lunatic while Lauren assaults me with a pillow. "You butthead!" She shouts at me. Even though I can't see her face, I can hear the laughter in her voice, the way her voice cracks between butt and head that tell me she's just playing along. I let her have her fun for a moment, and then grab the pillow on the next attack and pull it away from her.

There's a moment of quiet, and then Lauren breaks into giggles. I slowly sit up, not letting the way her boobs jiggle with her laughter distract me too much; I just got my dick to calm down. My blanket has fallen away and we're both totally exposed, which is... becoming less scary by the minute. Still weird because she's my sister, but less scary. Because she's my sister.

I reach up and put my hands on either side of her face as her giggles subside. "Lauren, look at me," she complies, the smile lingering on her lips, "I mean this, so don't think I'm just being nice. You are a beautiful girl, and maybe you're not a perfect supermodel looking girl with flawless skin and massive tits. You look good and you're going to have dudes chasing you around campus when we start school. I get having doubts or issues or whatever..." I look down at my own body. God knows I've got plenty of negative thoughts about myself. "But don't let them keep you down. You're awesome, ok?" She nods, several rapid up and down shakes of her head. When she stops, I lean up and kiss her forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispers. I take my hands off her head and bring them back to my lap. We sit there in silence, just looking at each other for a long moment. So many thoughts racing through my head, some normal, some terrifying. Then my stomach rumbles, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Wanna go make breakfast? After I use the bathroom of course."

"Oh God yes," she agrees, "I'm thinking eggs, toast, and some fruit and..." she's already up and on her way out of my room. Her little butt bounces as she walks, giving me something to look at as I follow her, just as naked as she is.

Bathroom first, so that breakfast is bearable and not gross. I've never seen a bidet before, and it takes me a minute to figure it out. It's nice though, after I get over the weird feeling. Leaves me feeling clean and overall good.

Lauren is patiently waiting for me outside the bathroom, doing some light stretching, which makes me feel odd things about her body. "Finally!" She huffs, and pats her tummy, "I'm a hungry girl and you were taking too long."

"Bidet tripped me up," I explain as we walk side-by-side down the stairs to the kitchen.

"I know, right?" she giggles, "water being squirted up my butt was weird. I did it like five or six times just to try and get used to it." I give her a side-eye, suddenly picturing Lauren sitting on the toilet, triggering the bidet again and again, jumping in her seat briefly with each squirt of water. I giggle with her, and it feels good, it feels normal. I could almost forget we're both naked if it weren't for the way my genitals felt colder than I was used to. And the sight of Lauren's tits constantly in my face. That was a continued reminder of the way that my life had changed overnight.

The kitchen is quiet and dark when we arrive. That's refreshing and reminds us both of home, when we would be up after our parents had already left for work, and home before they got back. The kitchen to ourselves feels like home. Granted, this is a totally different kitchen than we're used to, and it takes us several minutes to find what we're looking for.

I cook the eggs, scrambling all of them with a bit of milk, stirring in pepper, salt, and some red pepper flakes we find in the expansive spice cabinet. Lauren draws the short straw, and has to try and figure out the space-age toaster on the counter. Eventually she solves its dark mysteries and gets a couple of pieces of toast for both of us up and running, then finds butter and jam. Strawberry, the best kind. Breakfast is completed with a banana for each of us, and around 6 in the morning, we sit down on stools at the kitchen island to scarf down our breakfast.

We had wordlessly agreed that eating in the dining room alone felt weird. Too formal, too ostentatious for what we are used to. Wordless is also the best way to describe our eating. Just silence and the sounds of chewing. We are both starving, and need the food far more than we need to talk. It's only after we finish eating, both of our plates entirely clean, that either of us says anything.

"Ok, I have a question I need to ask," I say slowly. "And I felt like, until today, I knew the answer, because I know you. Or I thought I did. But now I don't know."

"You're being weird," Lauren replies, shifting uneasily on her stool.

"I just..." I hesitate, "I want you to know that I'm gonna ask this question and I don't mean it in a bad way in any way, it's just curiosity and it's been on my mind sorta all morning."

"Morning hasn't been that long, but stop being weird and just ask me your question." Lauren reaches out a hand and rests it on my arm. She looks into my eyes and I look back into hers.

"Are you gay?" I blurt out. She blinks at me several times without saying anything. Is she offended by that? It's not meant to be offensive, there's nothing wrong with being gay, but it could certainly be misconstrued as an intended insult.

"What?"

"I mean... do you like girls? Are you attracted to women?"

"Why?"

"Upstairs, this morning," I start, feeling dumb for even asking, "you kept talking about how hot everyone else is, all the other women I mean. And I get that knowing someone is hot isn't the same as being really attracted to them, I've seen James Marsden, but it was just the way you said it, you know?"

She shrugs. "I don't know." Ok, that was unexpected.

"Don't know at all?"

"Just don't know for sure. I've never really seen other women naked like that. In a sexy way," Lauren shifts uncomfortably for several seconds, thinking. And I don't push her. I know her well enough to know that she's just taking her time coming up with a complete answer. "I always thought I just liked boys," she continues slowly. "And I still think I like boys. But girls are hot too. Some girls." She smiles and shrugs. "I've... I've seen girls naked before. Like changing for track. But it was always business-like? If that makes sense."

"I get that. Not sexy, just naked because they had to be."

"Right," she nods, squeezing my hand. "Here there's a general vibe of sexiness. And that changes things."

"Do you... do you want to try stuff with a girl?"

She blushes and slaps my arm. "Stop. I'm not ready to think about that yet!"

I giggle and pull my arm away, nursing my new wound. "Don't take out your issues with your sexuality on me! Not my fault you're scared about liking girls!" I tease, standing up and grabbing our plates to go clean them.

Lauren huffs at me, following me to the sink, jabbing me in the side repeatedly with her finger. "Don't. Joke. About. Me. Being. Bi!" She punctuates each word with a sharp stab to my ribs. I squirm away from her, my bare feet slapping on the tile floor of the kitchen as I do my best to evade my sister's assault.

I make it to the sink and then have nowhere else to run, I set the dishes down, making sure not to break them, and then turn to fend her off slapping her hands away as she drives me into a corner like a fencer. This is a battle we've saved hundreds of times growing up. It's all done with love, but that love still kinda stings at times.

I take a few more jabs before I grab her wrists and pull them across each other and forward, making her hug herself. And then I hug her too, wrapping my arms around her and pressing our bodies close together.

"I love you, and I'm always gonna love you. Who you like or are attracted to will never change what we are. I hope you know that," I whisper to her. She nods, and rests her head against my shoulder.

"It's just a scary thing to learn about yourself after 18 years of life," she mutters. "I knew you'd accept me. But Mom and Dad are weird about that stuff and--"

"So don't tell them," I cut her off, "just be you and figure it all out and then worry about that later."

I feel her press her forehead against my cheek and hear her take a deep breath. "I know. It's not worth worrying about right now. Just a bit of a shock to the system to have that moment last night. I might not even ever act on it."

We stand like that for a long moment, our bodies pressed together in a hug like we've done all our lives. It's nice. She's warm and we fit together, she melds into me. Until she raises her head. "Joe, I like hugging you too, but that's a bit much." She giggles and pushes back away from me. I look down to realize my dick had gotten hard at some point and was pressing up against her body.

"It's not my fault," I mutter, stepping back with a grimace. "You have boobs and they were pressed up against my chest."

"Blaming it on your sister's boobs doesn't help your case, brother," Lauren teases me. "I guess Ms. Larson was right, you're just going to be hard all the time, aren't you?"

"You said it first, all the women here are hot," I mumble back, turning to do my best not to poke my sister with my erection, or even have it show too much.

"All of us?" She raises an eyebrow and I frown at her.

"You know what I meant."

"I think I dooo," she sings as she skips away, giggling. "Come on boner boy, let's go explore the house!"

"That's not even creative!" I shout after her, following her off to wherever she decides we should explore.

"Boner Boy: Erecting Justice whenever he goes!"

"Surely it should be 'Erecting Justice wherever he cums', right?" I laugh.

"No no," she turns around on the landing of the stairs and shakes her head at me, "if you cum, then you're no longer Boner Boy."

"Oh, sexual frustration is the source of my power?" I ask, suddenly immersed in the lore of Boner Boy.

"Just something sexy, I think," she muses, drifting upstairs. It's wild how quickly seeing her naked has become somewhat normal. Her boobs bounce just a little with every step, and when she turns to face me my eyes lock onto her hard nipples. The house is the perfect temperature for me, but maybe Lauren is a little cold. It's fascinating to look at though, whatever the reason. It only gets weird when we're too close, when we're touching, when I can feel her body against mine or the heat of her pussy near me.

We build the backstory and the powers of Boner Boy as we make our way lazily back up to the third floor. We're in no rush to be anywhere, and our long walk involves several breaks, where we stop and improvise a scene or just a few lines. This is our creative process usually. Start with an idea, however absurd, and play with it. Poke, prod, dig out the details not in a writer's room but in the scene and in the moment. Eventually things feel good. There's less confusion and we're operating on the same page about what is going on and where it's headed. It's at that point that I go sit and write, using our silly improv as a basis for whatever ends up getting written.

Not that I think we'll actually film anything about Boner Boy. That would be far too silly, even for us.

"I like a scene where Boner Boy can't get it up for some reason, and he's really doubting himself and..." Lauren trails off, looking down the hall.