Date: Sat, 30 Mar 2019 01:46:21 -0400 From: RJ Subject: Catfish, Chapter 3 Catfish by RJ This story is about the developing relationship between a teenager and his older brother. If themes of incest offend you, do not read this story. THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER IN THIS SERIES. It was intended to be a short piece and will remain as such. Thank you to all of you who have reached out saying that they love this story. I hope you enjoy the ending. If you have any questions or comments about this piece, want to know about any of my other works, or just want to reach out, please don't hesitate to email me. A list of my works, including links and descriptions, can be found here: https://bit.ly/2S5IYDI If you would like to be added to a mailing list to receive emails when my stories are updated, let me know which stories (if not all) you would like to receive emails for. Please also consider donating to Nifty if you can: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ~ Chapter 3 ~ "okay that's funny... but damn, look at that boy holding the camera!!!" "Hahaha stop" "i haven't seen you with a shirt off before" / "and honestly, i'm givin you major heart eyes right now" "You're gonna make a guy blush haha" "no, honestly..... you're kinda sexy" "Really?" "mhmmm~" "Aww thanks haha. Honestly, I think you're pretty damn sexy too, Milly" "you don't have to say that just cuz i said it" "But I mean it" "am i your type?" "I don't really have a type, but you're fucking beautiful" "hmmmmm but am i beautiful or sexy? can only be one" "You're definitely both" I send a picture of Milly in a bikini, sporting her curves and substantial breasts. "how about now? :)" "Wow" / "Fuck" / "Definitely sexy" / "But you know that already" "still nice to hear :)" "You're such a babe" "would you let me take your v-card?" Then, feeling I took it a little too far, I quickly type up the next messages. "sorry, that was too much" / "ignore me" "No, it's okay haha" / "Honestly you can have it" / "It's yours" My plan really was to stop this whole thing. To ghost him. Shut it down. And it would have been so easy to drop the entire thing just by resisting the temptation to continue conversation. But... I couldn't. I let my crush develop. Andy is just too sweet to give up, and I started to enjoy the attention a little too much. It's so unlike the attention I get from, say, Mr. White, whose sole motivation really is just still sex. Andy's different. He cares about me. He's interested in what I'm doing and how I'm feeling, even on a minor scale. He's honest and compassionate. And too often do I confuse when he's talking to me rather than to Milly. I can't say I've ever been good at separating reality and fantasy when it comes to this, but somewhere along the way, with Andy, I got completely swept up in it. And now things are taking a mildly sexual turn, it seems. Which I should have seen coming. After letting this "thing" between me (Milly) and my brother go on for practically the whole summer, it was bound to happen. I've spent a lot of time sidestepping his offers to meet up or video chat or talk on the phone (even though I can do a pretty good fem voice), appeasing him with pictures to keep him relatively at bay -- harmless selfies of Milly doing normal things like shopping at the mall or studying hard or hanging out with her weirdo friends. In return, he sends me plenty of selfies from work, all with various dogs, and even a couple mirror selfies. But this one... I'm ashamed to admit that I have a hard-on looking at his shirtless form. It's not even a particularly tantalizing selfie. The point of the photo wasn't even to show off his body. He took the picture in the public pool's restroom to zoom in on some old guy's wrinkly ass. It was funny, but if I hold my thumb over the old man's physique, it becomes unintentionally sexy. I can focus solely on my brother. Even though no one knows, I've never felt more embarrassed getting hard looking at his body in a new light. It's because I now see him as Milly sees him. It's completely out of hand. I know I need to end this sooner rather than later, though. It'd be the best thing for both of us. It's really as simple as just not responding to his messages, or blocking him. But for the fucking life of me, I cannot muster the strength to do so. Both for selfish and unselfish reasons. So for now, I stare at the picture of his body, picturing me taking his virginity as I stroke one out in my bed... Kelly's mom donated her old car to me towards the beginning of summer (which is perfect since I'm commuting to a nearby college in the fall), so I take full advantage of my new ride by attempting to be responsible and getting a job at the local Panera. The pay is pretty decent, but the management is less than exceptional. Twice already I've gone to work and had to leave because they changed the schedule last-minute without any sort of notification. And now it's happened again. I'm especially pissed when I leave the establishment because I got up early, showered, and dressed myself for no reason. I could be in bed right now. Sulking, I drive myself to the nearby Dunkin Donuts to buy myself a breakfast sandwich. Should I just go home and get more sleep in? I suppose since I'm showered and clean, I could call up Mr. White and get a quickie in... But then the thought to visit Andy hits me. The shelter's not too far from here. He might appreciate me bringing him breakfast or something, so I order a second sandwich and make my way over to his workplace. I love coming here. It smells horrible, but the dogs are all super cute and sweet, and Andy always looks like he's having the time of his life. And seeing the way he grins when I walk in helps a bit too. "Hey!" he says, surprised but pleased to see me. "Why aren't you at work?" "Another scheduling issue," I say, rolling my eyes. I shuffle over to the front desk where he seems to be filing through some paperwork, and I set the Dunkin Donuts paper bag on the counter. "Surprise." "You brought me food?" "Sausage, egg, and cheese on a croissant, just for you," I say with a smile. "How'd you know I was starving?" he asks with a laugh, excitedly opening up the bag and taking a large bite. He moans. "Fuckin' good," he says with a full mouth before swallowing a big bite. "Hey, so a guy came by with his dad and adopted Elsa today." I laugh. Who would adopt that ugly mutt? "I never thought someone would want her." "She's sweet, be nice," he says with a laugh. "The guy was closer to your age though. Seemed a little effeminate." I know exactly where he's going with this. "Please, Andy, no more guys," I say. "Oh come on," he says, taking another big bite out of his sandwich. "You need someone your own age." I know he doesn't approve of my "relationship" with Mr. White, but at least he's not ragging on me about it all the time. Especially because I promised him I'd officially cut ties with my old high school teacher once I start classes in the fall. "I just want to enjoy my summer," I tell him. "There will be plenty of guys my own age at college." He seems satisfied with that. "Fine, I'll take it," he says. "But no professors," he adds, holding his finger up. "No promises," I tease, laughing slightly. Just then, Alison comes by the desk. She's a cute girl who works at the shelter as well. A bit quirky, but she's sweet and seems like she'd be fun to be around. And she always wears something floral, which somehow brings out more of her upbeat attitude. "Are you done yet?" she asks playfully. Andy smiles. "You're always rushing me." He chuckles and sets down his sandwich, pointing to one of the piles he made. "The fax machine is busted so I can't send over any of the medical forms yet." "Seriously?" she asks. "Did you break it again?" "I didn't break it," he says, laughing. "It just needs your magic touch." She just smiles at him and even dares to put her hand on his arm while she speaks to him. "I'm gonna break you next time you mess up my fax machine." "YOUR fax machine?" "Might as well be," she says, winking slightly. She lets her hand slide down his arm before disappearing behind the desk into the office space. I stare at Andy with a slight smirk on my face while he picks up his sandwich. Right before he takes a bite, he notices me looking. "What?" "What was that?" I ask, cocking my head towards Alison. "What was what?" He's such a dope. "That little moment there. Something going on between you two?" "Me and Alison?" he asks, looking at me wide-eyed before laughing. "No." "Then what was with all that heavy flirting?" "We weren't flirting--" "Are you kidding?" I say, laughing. "Did you not feel her stroking your arm?" He shrugs. "So she's touchy." "She didn't even look at me." "So she's rude," he says, smiling slightly. "I know what you're trying to get at." "Oh come on. She's cute, right?" "Yeah, she is," he says with a nod. "So ask her out!" "Eh," he says, taking another bite of his sandwich. "I like somebody else." The heaviness I feel all of a sudden shouldn't be surprising. This is my fault, isn't it? I'm dragging this Milly thing on and because of it, Andy's missing out on an opportunity with a real girl. A real person. I pride myself in being able to read people, and she clearly likes Andy in some capacity greater than just friendly coworkers. I'm holding him back, and for what? So he can tell me how cute and sweet the fake version of me is? What a fucking scumbag I am. I think at that moment, right then and there, was when I decided to stop. It was a subconscious decision that I didn't really notice until I got home, checked my phone, and saw that Milly got a text from him. A photo of him and a couple puppies. Irresistibly cute. And I ignored it. It surprises me and it hurts me (physically pains my chest in a weird way) to not respond. Eventually, after a few days, it gets to the point where I have to mute notifications for his messages so that I don't get that pang in my heart every time I hear that little "Ding!" and see his name pop up. But it has to be done. There's no other way around it. I wish he'd just stop trying to reach out. Andy needs to move on. I need to move on. I mean, for me, it's an active fight to constantly bury the more sexual desires on top of the emotional ones, but I'm trying. Any time I have an inkling of a thought about him in that respect, I nip that shit in the bud, hurriedly thinking of something else that I can focus all my brainpower on. It's best this way. We'll both be better off without it. I try to focus on the one positive side of this: at least I can take what I've gathered from Andy and Milly's relationship and apply it to our relationship as brothers. I still know him a little better now. I know about his struggles with self-doubt and self-image, so, as Josh, I can do or say things that will only uplift him. I know about the sadness hidden underneath that joyous facade of his, so I can make every effort to keep that at bay. But I also know him well enough to see the effect my actions have made. Milly's disappearance is taking a bit of a toll on him, and the longer the separation lasts, the sulkier he gets. He's noticeably upset, often checking his phone every few minutes for a message from Milly that won't come. He smiles less. Responds to me with fewer words. Sighs a lot. It breaks my heart that he's so fragile, but can I blame him? He made a serious connection with me through Milly and I took that away from him with no explanation. I can only imagine the questions he's asking himself. "Did Milly's phone lose all her information? Did she have to change her number? Is she alive still? Does she just not want me?" We never let slip the l-word, but from my perspective, it's obvious how invested he was in this girl. We talked daily. Constantly. So by taking that support away from him, it seems I brought that "hidden sadness" out of him anyway. It doesn't help that his car breaks down one afternoon. He comes barging into the house with a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair and messing it up. "You okay?" I ask from the couch, surprised at how hefty his energy feels. "My fucking car died," he says begrudgingly, looking sadder than anything else. "Oh shit." "Just one thing after another," he mutters, shaking his head as he takes his shoes off. One thing after another? "What's been going on?" I ask, but he merely responds with a simple "Nothing" as he removes his shoes. I sigh, feeling a pang of jealousy. I'm sure he'd tell Milly. But I'm sure the absence of Milly is the first topic on that list of things going wrong for Andy. I wish he'd talk to me. Josh. His little brother. He stands up and stretches his back a bit. "You have plans tomorrow?" he asks. "I'll be at Kelly's," I say. "Why?" "Can I borrow your car then? I need to go into work," he says. "I need the hours." WE need the hours. I wince. "Well, I'll be at Kelly's lake house," I say. Which is not in town. Conveniently forty minutes away. "Shit, really?" he says, groaning. "You can't carpool or something?" I shake my head. "Everyone's already there since yesterday, but I had to work last night so I was gonna drive up tonight." "Damn." He scratches his head, trying to come up with a game plan. "I can just skip out if you need the car," I tell him. "Or you could drive me, but that's super out of the way." He just waves me off. "No, it's okay," he says. "Stick to your plans. I... I can probably get a ride to work from Alison," he says, scratching his chin. "Can you pick me up when I get out though? I only work 'til 1." "1? Yeah, that shouldn't be a problem." Honestly, that works nicely. I hate staying over too long the next day after a party. I'm always anxious to get home so this is the perfect excuse. "Sweet. Thanks," he says, giving me a rare smile. But it still looks strained. "I'll send you pictures of a bunch of teenagers being dumb tonight if that'll cheer you up." He lets out a little laugh. "That'd be nice." Poor guy. I wonder if anything else is going on or if it's just a bunch of little things adding up. It probably all started with Milly's disappearance. I could have handled that better. I was too much of an idiot and too much of a pussy to send him a nice, sensible, false excuse (even something as simple as "I have a boyfriend"). Instead, I took the harsher route. I could hit him with the boyfriend idea at any time, I suppose... Officially cutting the cord would be the right thing to do. If there's a "right" thing to do anymore. God, I feel horrible about all of this. But all I can do is convince myself to just give him time. Give him time and he'll get over it, and I'll get over him, and everything will go back to normal. I wake up slowly. Like I'm being raised from the dead. God, I feel so fucking heavy. I hate drinking. I always overdo it, and when I come round in the morning, my head throbs with ten times the amount of weight it actually is. I groan a bit, trying to sit up, but I can't. I need a minute. At hearing me stir, Kelly chuckles. "He lives," she teases. "Fuck off," I mutter, resting my hands over my eyes. "And close the damn blinds," I add, the sunlight exceptionally bright even through my eyelids. It's almost searing. "Such a pussy," Kelly says with a sigh. I hear her move from her desk to her window and listen to the flutter of the blinds closing. Once I feel it's safe, I let my eyes open slowly and adjust to my surroundings. Kelly moves back to her desk, fiddling around on her laptop while I rest in her bed. Clearly I fell asleep here last night. "Passed out" might be a more accurate phrasing, if I could just remember how I got here... "What the fuck happened last night?" I ask. My memory is blank. And that terrifies me a bit. I always tell myself that I'll practice a bit of restraint when drinking and not let myself get to that point. But I almost always get to that point. That's just dumb behavior, not knowing one's limits. Kelly glances back at me. "You don't remember?" I shake my head. "I remember everyone coming over and hanging out and whatnot. Once the shots started, though..." Nothing. Kelly laughs. "Probably best. You were annoying as fuck." I blink. "Me?" "You kept practically crying about how terrible of a person you are." Then she makes a frowning face and mocks a distressed-version of my voice. "'Oh, Kelly, I'm so mean! I'm so bad and mean and I hate myself! Andy's gonna hate me so much!'" She starts laughing harder. But now I'm worried. I brought up Andy? Did I bring up anything about Milly? "Why did I say that?" I ask, trying to play dumb. She just shrugs. "I don't know, man. I just put you the fuck to bed. You were putting a serious damper on the party." Then she turns back to her laptop. "Maybe cool it on the drinking next time." I bite my lip a bit as Kelly focuses on her own thing. Think, Josh, think. Did something happen? Kelly would be all over me right now if I admitted about the catfishing. So I doubt I said anything to anybody. Maybe being drunk just brought out all those guilty feelings... That's gotta be it. I was probably just a mess because of the alcohol. I sigh, resting back on the bed and rubbing my forehead, wanting nothing more than this headache to go away. What time is it? I feel around the bed for my phone, finding it under the pillow. Just past noon. Damn it. I'm supposed to pick Andy up in an hour. I still need to shower and whatnot, and I'm a good forty or fifty minutes away from the shelter. Maybe I can rinse off here quickly (once the headache wears off) before I go pick him up. I yawn a little as I open my phone with the intent to text him with an update on when I'll arrive. Immediately, my heart stops. The last thing open on my phone was a thread of text messages. But not our thread. His and Milly's. The issue is, there's a photo of me. Josh. That I fucking sent. As Milly. A stupid fucking selfie of me holding a near-empty bottle of vodka, captioned with "Remind me to never drink again". Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Shit. Oh God, I hope he didn't see this. I pray to fucking God he blocked Milly's number or something. But even under the message, I can see the little note that says he read it. And just below that, his response: "...Josh?" "Oh my God," I blurt out. Kelly turns to me in surprise. "What?" But I can't respond. That moment comes back to me like a ton of bricks. That panic I felt last night when I realized I sent that picture as the wrong person. Fuck. FUCK. I shouldn't have gotten drunk with everyone else. Then I would have practiced better restraint and not toyed with the idea of messaging him as Milly again. I remember sitting on the couch, snapping pictures and taking small videos of everyone taking turns doing stupid shit and sending them to Andy. He always responded with a laugh, but all I could think about was how he's hurting. And drinking by myself while talking to him made me type up drafts of apologies and various ways of saying "Miss you!" as Milly. I remember fighting the temptation all night. But clearly something slipped. I disrupted everything by accidentally sending a picture of the real fucking me via Milly. How did I manage to fuck that up? Shit. Fucking shit. "What?" Kelly repeats more insistently, but I throw the blankets off of myself, feeling both nauseous and energized. "I gotta go," I say, my heart pounding. Shit, I think I'm gonna be sick. "Right now?" Kelly asks, looking confused. "Yes." I don't waste much time. I grab my bag from the corner of the room and leave without another word, completely disregarding the possibility that I might have left something here. I grab my shoes from downstairs and burst through the front door. As soon as the fresh air hits me, though, I vomit. I turn into the bushes and heave, emptying my stomach into the shrubbery. Fuck, I feel disgusting. Physically and emotionally disgusting. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe I fucked this up. I should have deleted his number. I should have deleted the entire existence of Milly. I should have said goodbye to all the men I've been sexting -- which hasn't even been that many. Only a handful of guys I've been talking to before Andy. I should have dropped them. Dropped the whole act. And now the fact that I didn't clean up after myself properly (or do the right thing in the first place) is biting me in the ass. Hard. I get to my car and have to take several breaths to center myself. I've never felt so anxious. He knows. He fucking knows. What is he thinking right now? He stopped responding to my texts, both as Josh and Milly, after I sent that picture. Hence my alleged breakdown, according to Kelly. So I have no idea if he's angry, or sad, or disturbed, or confused. God, I'm so fucking stupid. No wonder I was telling everyone I hated myself. Still rings true. I blast the music the entire way to the shelter to try and drown out my thoughts, but I can't help but speculate. I wonder if he still even wants or needs me to pick him up. I wonder if he even went to work in the first place. But I'm almost too nervous to ask him for some reason, so I stick with the original plan. I arrive about ten minutes later than intended, but I park right outside the door and take a deep breath as I turn down the music. This is it. I try to think happy thoughts, telling myself lies like "He'll be fine" or "Maybe he just thinks I'm fucking with him and will think it's a funny joke." Feeling nauseous again, I hesitantly pick up my phone and text Andy that I'm here. He doesn't respond to my text, but five minutes later, the door swings open and he emerges. And instantly, we make eye contact. I know, right then and there, that he knows. What I can't tell for the life of me is HOW he's feeling about it. His expression is utterly blank -- possibly leaning a hair towards angry, but I could just be projecting my expectations onto him. For all I know, Andy is just emotionally spent. He comes up to the car and slides in heavily, sighing when he shuts the door. He doesn't say hello. He doesn't even look at me. He keeps his eyes fixed on the passenger-side mirror and stays silent. Does he want to say anything? Does he want ME to say something? What the hell do I say? "Sorry" won't cut it now. It's far too late for a simple apology. He must hate me. Or just have a ton of questions that he's too afraid to ask. I try not to wait too long, so I pull out of the parking lot (nearly hitting someone driving by because I wasn't paying attention) and head home. Andy only asks one question the whole time, and the sound of his voice kills me: "Was it you the whole time?" I can actually feel the weight of my heart, as if someone dropped a dense bit of metal at the bottom of it. I can't speak. Suddenly words have escaped me, but I'm sure Andy gets the hint. He doesn't repeat the question, or ask a follow-up question, or demand an answer. He just lets it hang in the air. And I just silently cry as I bring us home. We stay separate for the entire day. He keeps to himself, and I keep attempting to buck up some courage and apologize, but I can't seem to do that. And it stays like that for the entire weekend. We avoid each other. Don't speak. Stay in separate rooms at all opportunities. If he makes dinner, he'll leave some out for me, but that's the only way I know that he's still home. We are strangers now, living under the same roof. I don't know how he's coping. All I know is that I fucked up. I fucked up the moment I decided to message him on that stupid app. The moment I made the Milly profile all those years ago. I fucked up. I start college tomorrow. I have my first three classes -- American History (which I'm particularly not excited about), Intro to Psychology (which is hopefully fascinating), and Intro to Sociology (which I'm anticipating the most). I skimped out on most of the books this semester because I can't afford them, so I'm praying I won't need them. Otherwise, I'm pretty prepared. Fresh notebooks and pens. Snazzy new backpack. An eagerness for change. I'm excited for fresh faces, a different atmosphere, and a daily flow that I'm not used to. But if I'm starting fresh school-wise, there are things I want to take care of at home. Namely with Andy. We haven't spoken since I last picked him up, save for when he needed a ride to the dealership to get a decent car for himself. And even then it was simply him asking and me answering. Nothing more. I need to apologize. If not just for Andy but myself. I've been beating myself up over this catfishing thing for too long, not even in the mood to respond to any of my regulars. I even broke it off with Mr. White more so out of stress and lack of desire than anything else, but maybe that's the one good thing that has come out of this situation. This weird, extreme situation. Andy's really was the extreme, too-close-to-home case, and I need to put it to rest for good if I can ever move forward. For the past few days I've been trying to come up with some way to properly say everything, sitting in bed and staring at the watch he gave me, sometimes even going so far as to typing out an entire apology to read to him when I decide to face him. But it's no use. There's no real way to predict how this conversation will go. I just have to dive into it. And before I start spending most of my time on campus (which is my intention, since I want to immerse myself in the college experience as much as possible), I need to patch up this relationship. Or at least try. So, when I finally pull myself out of bed late in the morning, I pull on something comfortable before turning down the hallway towards Andy's room. Heart thudding and knees buckling, I pause in front of his door, clear my throat, and then knock twice. I try to listen in but I can barely hear over the sound of my heart in my ears. "Andy?" I call out. There's a long stretch of silence before I hear "Yeah?" "Can we talk?" I stand there for nearly half a minute, convinced he's just going to ignore me. But then I hear him say "Do you wanna come in?" I swallow thickly before reaching forward, turning the knob slowly, and entering quietly as if I'm about to disturb someone. Frankly, I'm just nervous to face him. But it has to be done. Commit, Josh. Commit. I breathe, stepping inside and feeling my face get warm as soon as Andy comes into view. He's still in bed, shirtless under the covers. I think he was reading a book or journal or something because he tucks it under the blanket before looking towards me. "Hi," I say, shutting the door behind me. He starts sitting up, rubbing his face with his hands as he leans back against the wall, the blanket falling off his shoulders and exposing his torso. Nip it in the bud, Josh. "You wanna sit?" he asks when he sees me just standing there awkwardly. "Um. Sure," I say, coming over and sitting on the edge of his bed near him. I take a look at him, wishing he looked more angry rather than broken. I can handle someone being mad at me better than seeing the damage I've caused. He's just sad. It's written all over his face, and it hurts to see. I open my mouth to speak but I pause. What do I want to say? Where do I start? He notices my struggle because he speaks up first. "What did you--?" "I'm sorry," I blurt out. The apology escapes me before I can stop myself. He looks surprised at my mini-outburst, but I ride this wave as long as I can. "I'm so sorry, Andy." It all flows out of me. I apologize to him again and again, telling him that I know what I did was shitty, that I know I hurt him, that I didn't mean for things to go so far, that regardless, what I've been doing isn't right... I feel like I'm ranting, and he just lets me babble on until I'm finally finished. He stares at me for a long time, and I feel uncomfortable under his gaze. Say something. Please. Anything. "I just don't get why," he says finally. "Why do this?" I assume he means, in the general sense, pretending to be someone else, so I answer that question. "It's hard to explain." "Try anyway," he says. I sigh, scratching my thigh. "It's like... It's nice being someone else," I say. "When I hate being me, being Milly is like an escape from that. And it's easier to talk to guys and get what I want out of them without putting myself at risk." Huh. Maybe it's easier to explain than I thought. And fuck, now that I say it out loud, it sounds even shittier. Andy just looks confused. "You talk to other guys as Milly?" I blush, surprised at my admission. But I nod. "Seriously?" Now he has that disappointed-parent tone on, and my chest feels weird. "How many?" I shrug. "Several hundred. I don't know the exact number." His eyes go wide. "No way." I pull my phone from my pocket and pull up just one of the messaging apps I use for Milly. I scroll quickly down the list of threads, and Andy gawks. "Jesus Christ, Josh." "I know," I say, pocketing my phone. "It's fucked up." "Why...? Just-- Why?" he asks. "I don't know," I say, rubbing my face. "Because I feel wanted? And desirable?" He looks at me in a calculating way, as if trying to understand me. "You know that's not real, right?" he asks. "Or fair?" "I know." I rub the side of my face, feeling more ashamed about all of this than ever. "It's okay if you hate me," I say, and I immediately regret it. How fucking whiny of me to try and victimize myself in this situation. "I don't know what to think, Josh," he says, his voice level but very adult. "I just feel so..." He takes a moment to find the word before settling on "violated." I flinch. "I know," I say for the third time. I know, I know, I know. I know all of this. Again, Andy glares at me for a bit before asking "Why me? I'm your brother." A fair question. "I just wanted to get closer to you," I admit. And that's the truth. He scoffs, but I continue with "But with you, things just got carried away." I wonder if he considers that an understatement. At least we didn't do anything too sexual. We alluded to it, but there was no trading of nudes. We'd be too foregone if that happened. He seems to be pondering something, all while staring at me. I wish his thoughts had closed captioning. I can't handle feeling like I'm under the microscope right now. "What does that mean, 'carried away'?" "I got swept up in it," I say. "I never talk to guys the way I talk to you. And it got to the point where I kept blurring the line between Josh and Milly." "So... What? It was real?" he asks. This question surprises me. I don't exactly know what he means or what he's getting at, but I answer it as best as I can. "I only faked the name and the pictures and stuff. And minor details about, you know, 'my life'," I say, using air-quotes. "Everything else I said was real though." He winces. "Everything?" I gulp but nod. It's a hard claim to make, but the essence of Milly is me. I don't say things that I don't believe or otherwise wouldn't say. So in that sense, yes. "Everything," I say insistently. Another silence. Another round of staring. Long, endless moments go by before he looks down at his lap, playing with his fingers. "I didn't wanna believe it at first," he starts to say. "When I noticed that Milly texted me, but saw that it was your picture..." He shakes his head a bit before looking at me. "But the more I thought about it, the more things lined up. You and her are... so similar. And I always kinda thought that, but now..." But now... now it really makes sense, since I AM her. I assume that's what he's trying to say, so I just nod in understanding. "Right." He gives me a sad sort of smile before, out of nowhere, he starts crying. I'm shocked. It's not ugly crying, at least -- he doesn't sob at all, but tears start streaming down his face and he sniffles a lot as he tries to compose himself, burying his face in his hands. "I'm so fucking stupid," he says. If he doesn't stop crying, I'll certainly be joining him. "Andy..." I say, but I don't know what words would comfort him right now. I just reach over to rub his back. As soon as I touch him, he slides forward, presses his face into my shoulder, and continues crying -- even harder, now. I freeze in surprise before I wrap my other arm around him and just hold onto him as his body heaves a bit, letting him clutch onto my shirt and release whatever he's feeling. I doubt this is personal. He just needs someone to cry on, and he probably doesn't want it to be me, but I'm all he's got right now. I'm so sorry, Andy. Just let it out. That's the least I can do for you right now. I run my hand up and down his back gently as I hold him, praying he'll forgive me. And himself. When he finally composes himself, he sniffles in a particularly gross way before slowly pulling his head away from me. He tugs on my shirt a bit and then mutters an apology, probably for getting tears all over it. But it's fine. A small price to pay. "You okay?" I ask. A dumb question, but I can't stop myself from asking. "I don't know," he admits. "No?" He clears his throat a bit. "But I think I will be," he adds, which relieves me somewhat. "I just need time to..." "Take it all in?" "Yeah," he says, nodding. I completely understand. "That's fine. I just wanted to try and... clear the air a bit." He gives me a small pursed-lip smile. "Yeah." I smile back nervously before nodding and then standing up. I consider hugging him or something, but I don't want to push any boundaries just yet, so I simply make my way out of his room and leave him to his thoughts. Being busy with school gives us the space we need. Especially him. I'm sure he's deciding whether or not to hate me for the rest of my life. I can't say I'd be too forgiving if he had done this to me, but here's to hoping. In the meantime, though, I make a drastic change: I deactivate the Milly profiles. To resist temptation even further, I delete all her pictures off my phone. It's not totally impossible for me to start things up again (unless the real girl suddenly decides to delete all the useable content off her blog) but it's a start. A step that I needed to take. It's both strangely relieving and heartbreaking to give it up, though. I'm not nearly on my phone as much, which is good, but I feel incredibly lonely all of a sudden. It's a harsh sort of loneliness that can't be soothed by the couple new friends I've made at school. They seem pretty great so far, but I deluded myself with male attention for so long that it'll take a while to get used to not receiving constant praise and validation. Part of me wants to tell Andy "Hey, look at this good thing I did!" But I still want to give him the space he needs to process or cope or whatever he's doing without trying to make my case. Plus, I still need to find peace with myself, anyway. Not just with moving on from the catfishing, but getting over my feelings for my brother that keep trying to reemerge. Actively fighting them off is a damn chore, but I get the sense that I'm making progress. I think about him less and less in a romantic or sexual fashion. Those feelings may not be all gone, but I'm running with what I've got. However, I'm very happy when he corners me one morning right before I head off to class. I'm already running pretty fucking late, so I try not to snap at him in a hurried fashion when he catches me at the door. He surprises me by asking me if I want to see a movie with him tonight. I pause, completely forgetting about class. "You and me?" He blushes slightly. "Yeah. You 'n me." "Y-yeah, I'd love to," I say, trying not to smile so widely, but I can't help it. This is progress. This is good, right? "I should be home around four." "Okay. Maybe we can get dinner before the movie?" I smile and nod. "That'd be great." I spend essentially the whole day anticipating our little outing. It had been maybe four days since we talked in his bedroom, and during that stretch of time, our conversations have been limited to the basics: "Did you eat?" "Are you gonna shower, or can I?" "I'm gonna go to the store, do you want anything?" But him going out of his way to ask me if I want to go out with him is probably a good sign. It at least says that he doesn't totally hate my guts. By the time I get home, Andy's pretty much ready to go, but he lets me shower quickly and get changed. When he asks me where I want to eat, I suggest Applebee's in the interest of appeasing him. It does the trick, because he lets out a hearty laugh and says "No complaining then." I don't mind where we go. I just want to be with him. I'm surprised at the shift in energy between us. Suddenly, on the car ride there, we're all talk and laughs. We have normal conversation about school and the new people I'm meeting, and he gives me a few updates about the shelter and Andy's new job search. He decided he wants to work somewhere that would make a little more money, and he's been looking for a couple different vets in the area to stay on that taking-care-of-dogs path. Obviously he didn't go to school to be a veterinarian, but he's hoping someone will give him a chance, even if it's secretarial. I'm crossing my fingers for him. He deserves plenty of good -- more so than anyone I know. Then we get to the restaurant. We've been here so often that as soon as we're seated, we already know what we want. It's just a matter of placing our order before the waitress leaves to grab us waters. I take this opportunity to bring up my most recent life update. Something I hope he's proud of. "So... I deleted the Milly profiles." He looks surprised. "Really?" "Yep. All her pictures too. Everything's gone." Well, aside from the nudes I've gotten from guys, but that's different. That's jerk-off material. He smiles. "Well, I'm really glad to hear that." "Trying this new honesty thing," I say. "Being myself and all that." He laughs a little. "We'll cheer to that when our drinks get here," he says with a smile before clearing his throat. "Well," he says, and I feel myself tensing slightly with anxiety considering the tone he used, "I didn't really wanna rehash this whole thing but, since you brought it up... I have a question." I swallow thickly, feeling a weird bubbling in my stomach. "Okay," I say simply. He clears his throat, not looking at me directly. "I know you said, you know, it wasn't totally fake and whatnot," he says. "But... how much of it was really real?" I scrunch my eyes up in confusion. "What do you mean?" "Like, besides your name and location and the pictures and shit, when we talked, how much was you being you?" "I told you: everything," I say, licking my lips nervously. "Even the feelings?" I feel my body get warm. So THAT'S where he's going with this. The feelings. The emotional connection. How many times did I tell him I liked him? That I had a huge crush on him? That I couldn't stop thinking about him sometimes? But there's no use lying my way out of this anymore. I'm shooting for honesty. "Yes." "Seriously?" he says, his eyes getting a little wider. "Please don't make this more embarrassing than it already is," I say with a groan. Surprisingly, he laughs a little. "I didn't mean it like that," he says, his eyes quickly looking me up and down. "I mean, we're in the same boat, man. I basically fell in love with Milly. Or, you, I guess." I wince slightly from his tone, but I keep my mouth shut when the waitress comes back with our waters. She sets each glass in front of us along with two straws before heading to the next table. I can't help but feel like we're not in the same boat. I knew who I was becoming attracted to. He didn't. How did I seriously lead him on this whole summer? "I'm the fucking worst," I mutter, pulling my glass closer to me. "No you're not," he says. I almost wish he wouldn't keep defending me. "It just... wasn't supposed to be like this." "What was it supposed to be like?" he asks curiously. "I mean, it was pure fucking chance that you showed up on my Tinder but I got all excited and jumped at the opportunity to get into your head a bit. After seeing how quickly you opened up to Julie and not... you know, me." I sigh slightly. "You were always so... not secretive, really, but you kept everything in. And I wanted to see if I could find out what was going on." He looks at me for a moment before glancing at his hands. "Yeah," he says simply, and then he sighs. "Well it worked, clearly," he says bitterly. "I'm so sorry, Andy--" "It's fine," he says, holding his hand up to cut my apology short. "It's not fine." "Okay, sure, but I've already accepted your apology." I have to remind myself that even if he accepted my apology, it doesn't mean that he forgave me. Damn, why do I keep trying to make sure I don't let myself off the hook? "It's just still a lot to process." Then he looks at me for another moment. "I'm trying to, though. To you, at least." "To what?" "Be more open." I smile slightly. "It's not like I'm good at that either," I admit. "Must run in the family," he says with a chuckle. I almost choke on my water when I take a sip. "That's the fucking truth," I say, laughing for a moment before I sigh. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And at the same time, I wanted to be someone you could come to when you needed to. I still want to." He smiles gently at me. "I mean, you were that person already," he says, vaguely referencing Milly, "but this is..." He gestures between us, and I wonder what he wants to say. Scarier? Better? More human? More real? Instead, he drops the sentence, straightening his posture and saying "Thank you. That means a lot to me." The rest of our dinner goes by smoothly without either of us mentioning the Milly thing. Even as we get to the movie theater, I feel better and better about our relationship. Sure, things are still weird, but if we don't think too hard about the situation, everything feels fine. The movie makes me uncomfortable though. There's a kissing scene in the middle of it -- a long, drawn-out, extremely sensual one that has me squirming slightly in my seat. Only because Andy is right next to me. Damn it. I thought I had mostly gotten over my sexual feelings towards him, but here I am, noticing how close we are and how warm he is even just sitting next to me. I know his lips would be soft as fucking clouds on mine. And his facial hair, adding a whole other dimension-- Stop it, Josh. Nip it in the fucking bud. I groan slightly as the scene stretches on for another whole minute, and my discomfort is only disrupted by Andy leaning over and asking "Is this scene ridiculously long or is it just me?" In spite of everything, it makes me laugh a bit. After that scene is finally over, though, I relax, able to push those insistent fantasies out of my head. Once the movie ends, Andy and I get up and make our way back to the car, crossing through the parking lot. "What'd you think of it?" Andy asks me, jingling his keys. "It was... okay," I say, unsure how to phrase it. "A little too pretentious for my liking." "Really?" he says. "Huh. I thought it was cool. But you're smarter than I am." "Don't say that," I tell him, looking up at him just as we get back to the car. "It's true though." I sigh as I head toward the passenger side. "You're the reason my ego is so inflated," I tell him as I hop in. He laughs. "Me?" he asks skeptically, sliding in on his side. "Yeah, you. Like, even when you talked about me to Milly." Somehow she keeps getting mentioned, but it gets easier every time we talk about it. "You would say all these really nice things about me, but they seemed sincere. I felt like you kinda knew me already and appreciated me for me and I just never realized." I look over at him and see that he's watching me while I speak, not yet making a motion to start the car. "Maybe I'm kinda smart, but that doesn't make me... I don't know. A good person. Or a good brother. Those are things that matter." "You're not a bad brother," he says. "Or a bad person." "Yes I am," I insist. "Or, I was. Especially compared to you. You're the epitome of a quality brother. And person." He gazes at me for a while before speaking again, looking down at his fingers as he moves his keys around. "I wouldn't have said any of those things if I didn't mean them." "I know," I say. "It's just hard to believe that sometimes." "To believe me, you mean?" "I... No, but--" "You gotta trust me, dude," he says. "I think you're incredible." Incredible? Jesus Christ. It's like his intention was to make me cry. Something about that word choice hits me somewhere in the upper left side of my chest, and I feel my eyes start blinking before I realize tears are coming out of them. "Shit," I whisper, reaching up and wiping my eyes as I look away. "Are you crying?" Andy asks. Duh. "Yeah, 'cause of you," I tell him, trying to suck the tears back into my head. In spite of everything I did, he still feels that way about me? I hear him say "Hey" before I feel his hand reach around me and tug me over. Instantly, I lean into him and I find myself locked in a cozy, warm, soothing embrace. No one hugs like my brother. Of course, I'd prefer the full-body contact rather than leaning over from our seats, but the level of comfort I feel in his arms even now is a testament to his ability to calm me. I could just melt into his neck. He rubs his hand up and down my back gently as I compose myself, much like I did for him when he was crying against my shoulder. Jesus, this is a mess. What a ride this whole ordeal has been. And then... He starts to pull back. Only slightly, though. He stays close enough to use his thumbs to wipe the tears from my cheeks. I give him a watery sort of smile, and he smiles back at me gently. The next thing I know, his lips are on mine. I don't know how it happens. One second we're just smiling at each other, and the next, he's kissing me, and I'm kissing him. I can't breathe. I can't move either. Absolutely fucking still. It's a relatively innocent kiss -- just holding our lips against each other's, but I feel this fiery heat coursing through me as soon as we make contact. I don't know how long it lasts, either, because suddenly, Andy pulls back as if he just realized what's happening. "Oh my God," he says, putting his face in his hands. "Oh my God. Shit, I'm sorry." It'd be almost amusing if not for the complete and total shock I'm feeling. I'm frozen. I still feel his lips on mine. Softer than I even expected them to be. Holy shit. "I don't know why I did that," he says, peering at me slightly. So HE did it. He initiated the kiss, not me. For a moment there, my mind went completely blank on how it happened. But it happened. Our lips found each other's once Andy leaned in. He kissed me. He fucking kissed me. I lean back in my seat and stare forward, into the empty car in front of us. My heart is racing so fucking fast. What do we do? What do we say? "Sorry," Andy says again. "It's... um..." Okay? No, that's not the right word. Fantastic? Amazing? Incredible, as he said earlier? I want him to kiss me again. All of a sudden those incestuous desires that I've half-buried have come back full force. I feel red with shame and want. Even my breathing is a little hitched. There's no pushing them away now. He doesn't say anything further as he grabs his keys, puts them in the ignition, and starts the car. It rumbles to life and I swallow thickly, going through the motions of putting my seatbelt on in silence. That's the only thing that makes noise the whole way home. The car. We drive in quiet all the way to the house. And all I can do is replay that kiss in my head over and over and over. I feel like I have to break the silence when we get inside, so I say something. "Thanks for taking me out tonight." He looks at me nervously before nodding. "Yeah, of course," he says, eyeing me strangely before scratching the back of his head. "Um. I'm gonna go shower." "Okay." I bite my lip a bit as I watch him head upstairs. Actively trying not to think about the way that kiss made me feel, I head up into my room and change into sleepwear, getting comfortable. What else can I think about instead? Homework? I have plenty of that. But no, I'm too distracted for homework. I try cleaning up around my room instead, clearing the floor of any dirty laundry before stuffing it into the hamper. I make a mental note to do laundry tomorrow night. How long has it been? I check the time. Took me a few minutes to reorganize the room. Maybe Andy's out of the shower by now. I need to brush my teeth and get ready for bed, so I head down the hallway towards the bathroom. Of course, as if timed by fate, as soon as I get in front of the door, Andy opens it, steam rushing into the hallway. He's running his fingers through his wet hair before he pauses at the sight of me. "Oh. Hey." "Hi," I say back. He must know I'm ogling the fuck out of him since he's just in a towel, a bundle of clothes in one hand. Fuck, he looks good. I try not to let my eyes wander his bare torso too much but I can't help myself. He brought this out of me. "Hey, so... Listen," he says, clearing his throat. "About the... the kiss--" Oh God. "You don't have to--" "I just want to clear things up," he says quickly. "You know, if we're being honest and open and stuff." I swallow, wanting him to spit it out so I don't have to speculate. "Okay." "I..." And then he lets out a tiny laugh before continuing. "You being Milly has confused the fuck out of me, dude," he says, looking at me intently now. I find myself fixed on his gaze all of a sudden. "What do you mean?" He shrugs a bit, looking away only for a moment. "I don't know. What I felt for Milly was real, you know? Those were real feelings. But now that I know it's you..." He looks me up and down for a moment before shrugging. "It's just weird." So that's what he means by confused. All those feelings he had for Milly are now slightly directed towards me. At least, they were for an instant. In the car. When he kissed me. Is he thinking about me differently now? Is our entire relationship being put into question? It must be. He fell in love with a personality over the phone. MY personality. It's probably not easy to accept that, nor get over it. "What are you saying?" I ask. He just stares at me before saying "I don't know what I'm saying." My heart races as I realize what I'm about to say. There's no rational thinking behind it either, which makes it a strange sensation. I can probably stop myself if I tried hard enough, but it's like my brain has already decided what will come out of my mouth and is just forewarning me. "I'm still not over you," I find myself saying. He blinks. "What?" "I'm still not over you," I repeat. "Josh--" "I know it's fucked up and crazy but it's the truth." He looks uncomfortable and nervous, and I do my best to stand my ground. But it's hard. The truth is hard. And suddenly, my legs feel like they won't support my weight for much longer. I feel so exposed. I've never outwardly admitted feelings before like this. Is this what vulnerability feels like? God, it's awful. How do people do it? Then Andy speaks up. "You're not making this easy for me." What does that mean? What the fuck does that mean, Andy? My heart races a little faster. Is he grappling with something? As in, what he wants to do with me? So I make him choose. "Tell me to fuck off and I'll fuck off." He looks strained. Like he's thinking too hard about something. His eyes scan my face as he does so before he looks to the side slightly, sighing to himself. He mumbles something, but I can't understand what he's saying. Goddamn it, Andy. Say something. You're killing me right now. Then he looks at me. "This is insane," he says, and I feel my heart sink. "Tell me to fuck off and I'll fuck off," I repeat. "I don't want you to." I want to pounce on him. I want to hit him and kiss him and punch him and love him. I want to open his fucking head and see exactly what he's thinking. "What do you want to do then?" I ask, putting the ball in his court. His answer surprises me. "I wanna kiss you again." His words almost don't register properly because his face almost tells the opposite. He's squinting one of his eyes slightly. He looks strained. Confused. Unsure. As if he's slowly realizing that maybe I'm what he wants after all. I almost choke on my spit trying to swallow it. I feel like I need to sit down or I'll faint. How do I approach this? My instinct is to get nasty, but it's not over text -- and besides, that's not Andy's style. I shouldn't pounce. I could just say "Okay" and leave it totally up for interpretation, but I don't want to risk this opportunity. So I settle with "Kiss me, then." I see his Adam's apple shift as he swallows, still staring at me, his eyes only moving from my eyes to my lips repeatedly. I feel like my heart beats louder and louder the more the suspense builds. The tension. Will he do it? He licks his lips a bit before he leans forward. I completely stop breathing as he comes closer, and he hesitates a couple times. But I bridge the gap between us. And then, we connect. Right on the mouth. One kiss. Then another. Then another deeper one. Our noses nudge against each other as we tilt our faces together, and the kiss breaks with a loud, wet smack. We're both panting slightly. Does he feel it too? I can't imagine he's feeling the same exact things I'm feeling, but it must be something similar. That rush. That excitement. That fear and anxiety. "My heart is fucking pounding," he says. So I put one of my hands and place it above his heart. "Feel that?" he asks. I just nod against his lips. It's thudding hard, making my hand twitch. Just like mine is. And he confirms that fact by reaching under my shirt of his own volition and resting a hand on my bare chest. I look up at him as he feels my heartbeat, thudding just as intently as his. He lets out a little laugh and whispers "Shit" as he gives my pec a little squeeze before removing his hand from under my shirt. Not before slowly dragging his fingers down my torso, though. Fuck, I get goosebumps. I'm hard. Rock hard, actually. Making quite the tent in my shorts. It's protruding enough to poke Andy below his waist, and when he looks down, he arches his eyebrow. Embarrassed, I grab myself and move my boner to the side. "Sorry." "It's okay," he says, smiling ever so fucking slightly. Kissing just does that to me. And kissing Andy? It did it to me in record time. His little stroking motion with his fingers didn't help matters either. He licks his lips again and then clears his throat. "We probably shouldn't just stand in the doorway." He's right. Mom sometimes emerges from her room -- only to get food or use the one bathroom we have. So the last thing we need is to get caught looking suspicious. "Right," I say, but I don't move. He glances at his bedroom door before looking at me. "And I should... get dressed," he adds, swallowing again. I notice his eyes keep flickering to my lips though. "Unless...?" I start to say. He blinks. "Unless?" I feel my cock twitch at him the possibility of "unless". My eyes drop down towards the towel around his waist. I shouldn't. We shouldn't. But if we already kissed... "Josh?" he asks when I take too long to respond. "Never mind," I say, getting nervous. "Okay," he says after a moment, and when he tries to get by, I step aside and let him pass. He gives me a curious sort of look before heading slightly down the hallway and veering into his bedroom. I pant slightly. Did I really just suggest sex with him? Not explicitly, sure, but it was heavily fucking implied. Should I even be embarrassed? He kissed me. He WANTED to kiss me. Twice! That's something. Is it that crazy to think that he'd want to do... more? I look towards his room. Should I let it end here for the night? But I know my answer before I even finish asking myself that question. My body decided as soon as I got hard. I swallow thickly before heading into his room. He's rummaging through his dresser that's up against the opposite wall, so he doesn't notice when I slip inside until he hears the door shut. He turns his head to see me resting my back against his door, giving me a once-over. He doesn't say anything. Just stands there in his towel with a t-shirt in his hand. I ignore the thump-thump-thumping of my heart as I step away from the door and walk over to him. He just stares at me, unmoving. I only see him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing once when I stand fairly close to him. I half-expect him to stop me. To say something. To turn away. But he doesn't. He lets me lean up and kiss him. I almost feel relieved when we kiss. Feeling his lips push back against mine is like taking a relaxer. We take it slow, too. No funny business yet. Just lips moving against each other. I try not to moan when I notice him starting to kiss back a little more intently, but I can sense his nervousness. The hesitation. It's evident in the light way he tries to add a little tongue before rethinking it -- until I give him the green light by adding some tongue myself. I reach forward and rest my hands on his sides, feeling his body. Soft, but strong. He hesitates but eventually does the same, dropping his t-shirt before resting a hand on each of my hips lightly. I let myself step a little closer, and this time, I don't move my hard-on out of the way. I want him to know how turned on I am. I want him to know that I want him. "What is going on?" he asks between kisses. I almost laugh a little. "I don't know." He grabs on my hips a little more. "I'm nervous," he admits. I pull back slightly, looking at him. "Don't be," I tell him, running my hands up to his chest. I should be the confident one in this situation. This is much easier for me than it is for him. "I know what I'm doing." "I don't," he says shyly. It'd almost be cute if it wasn't making me so horny. This is happening. This is really happening. He's nervous, but it doesn't mean he wants to stop. "I've got you," I say with a slight smile. I bite my lip a bit, letting my hands slide down his torso slowly. Over his stomach, past his belly button, until I get to the towel around his waist, where his happy trail disappears into. Just one little tug and this baby is on the floor. But I keep my eyes on his face, making sure it's okay. He gulps a bit before looking down at my hands, not saying anything. If he stops me, I'll stop. But otherwise, full fucking steam ahead. I undo the little knot in his towel and let it fall right off his hips before I look down at the cock hanging between his legs for the first time. I feel my mouth watering. A thick, soft, heavily-hanging cock dangling from a shapely-but-natural dark-red bush. Where the fuck has he been hiding this thing? He could just whip his dick out in public and anyone cock hungry would be on it in a matter of seconds. I resist touching it just yet. I don't want to take things too fast. I look up at Andy, and I notice he's looking right at me. We only lock eyes for a second, because as soon as we do, he leans in and resumes kissing. Right off the bat, the kisses are a little deeper, and I wrap my arms around him, pressing my body into his. Fuck, this feels good. So fucking good. But he's not doing anything with his hands, much. Just half-resting them against my hips again. "You can touch me, you know," I mutter against his lips. He hesitates. "Where?" I laugh a little. "Where do you wanna touch me?" His face gets a little redder, and I have to remember that this is his first time doing anything like this. With anyone. And it's me, his little fucking brother. I can't believe I'm the one guiding him through this, but considering how this summer has ended up for us, I'm so damn glad I am. I wait for him to make a move, and finally, he slides both hands around me more. One goes up my shirt to hold my back. The other goes straight to my ass. I let out a little hum when he grabs at it, and he laughs slightly. Damn, he really is nervous. But I'm determined to make this good for him. "I just don't wanna... make you uncomfortable or anything," he says. That's fair. And I appreciate that. "No part of me is off-limits," I inform him. "Okay?" He just nods a little. "Grab all you want." "Okay," he says before leaning in again and kissing me. As he does, his grabs get a little more insistent. Both hands are on my ass now, each one gripping a cheek, and I let out soft moans into his mouth. He surprises me by taking things up a notch, going so far as to reach right into my shorts to grab a cheek. He doesn't go into my underwear, but it's a step that gets me even hornier. We kiss deeply, and as our tongues lightly glide against each other's, I let my hand slide down his side. Down to his hip. So close. So fucking close to his dick. I move my hand in between us and work my fingers lower until I get into his pubes. He inhales slightly the closer I get, and I pause the kissing. "Can I?" I ask, my finger tip touching the base of his cock. Please? Please please please? I have to resist dropping to my knees too fast when he nods, giving me the okay. I look down between us as I wrap my fingers around him and give his cock a squeeze. He lets out a sigh as I start stroking him, trying to get him hard. Now I'M nervous. What if he's not into this? What if he can't get it up? I'd understand, considering how confused he still is, but I can't say my ego won't be a little bruised if he doesn't-- Aha. There we go. I smile a bit as I feel the blood rushing to his cock. He slowly hardens, filling up my fist nicely until he's got a strong erection. "Your dick..." I mutter, feeling him out and gawping at it. "What?" he asks nervously. "It's so handsome," I say, finding no other way to describe it. Straight. Proportional. Girthy. Everything I look for in a good piece of meat. He laughs slightly. "Handsome?" "Yeah," I say, chuckling and reaching under to give his balls a gentle tug (which makes him grunt). "It's a compliment. Just say thank you." "Thanks," he mutters, and I grin before leaning up to kiss him a few times while pawing at his crotch. But now I'm anxious to get my mouth on it. So I break the kiss and slowly get to my knees. I'm fully aware that he's watching me with intent, almost desperate focus, but now I have something to focus on. I hold his heavy cock in my hand, stroking it slightly and admiring it up close. Shit, he looks way bigger when it's right in my face. He'd give Mr. White a run for his money, that's for sure. I lean forward and look up at him, watching his expressions as my tongue darts past my lips and makes contact with his shaft. His lips part slightly as he watches me kiss and lick slowly all the way up to the head of his cock. And then, I take him in. He gasps slightly, his hand going right to my head and his fingers curling in my hair. I want to show Andy what I'm made of, so immediately, I go for the gold: I slowly slide all the way down. Andy's grip on my hair gets even tighter as I work the last inch into my mouth, my lips nestled into his pubes. "Holy shit," he says, groaning but holding back his moans as best as possible. I slowly pull back, being as sexy as possible with it. I pull off for a moment to catch my breath before engulfing his cock once again, bobbing slowly back and forth. He tastes so good. It must be his precum. It's more potent than I'm used to, but it has a sweetness that Mr. White doesn't have. A sweetness that only intensifies my cravings. I pull off again to lick my lips and swallow all the spit and precum in my mouth, and Andy takes that moment to compliment me. "You're good at that," he says. I look up and smile slightly. "Thanks." Then I start to lean forward. He stops me though. "Wait," he says, and I glance up at him, eager for a mouth full of cock. "Can I sit?" I give him a little nod. He moves to the bed, sitting close to the edge of it and opening his legs for me to climb between. I grab hold of his cock and bring it right back to my mouth as he gets into a comfortable position, closing my eyes and relishing the taste and feel. Again, Andy's hand goes back to my head, gripping my hair tightly, and I get an idea. I slide off his cock for a moment, gently stroking it as I look up at him. "Do me a favor," I ask. "Sure." "Fuck my mouth." He arches his eyebrow. "Seriously?" "Yeah." "Um... okay," he says, biting his lip as I go back down on him. He's hesitant at first, as expected, but slowly, he starts raising and lowering his hips at a slightly faster pace. When I choke a bit in an attempt to get air, he stops altogether, but I hum and gesture for him to keep going. I close my eyes and let him hold my head in place as he works his hips back and forth, occasionally going deep and hard enough to get into my throat. That's it, Andy. Get into it. I'm here to show you what you've been missing out on. Soon, he gets into it, taking full advantage of my willingness to please. It starts making a slobbery mess, and I moan on his cock as he uses my throat. When I need a breather, I push his hand off my head and pull off with a gasp. He stops moving his hips, looking at me as he picks his cock up and gives it a few loose tugs. "You okay?" he asks. "Yeah," I say, catching my breath and then stretching out my jaw. "You're just... big," I say with a laugh. "Am I?" he asks curiously and innocently. And naively. "Yeah, dude," I say, nudging his balls playfully. "You ever measure it?" "Maybe once, when I was like, 13," he says, smirking slightly. "Well, we can do that later," I say, smiling as I stand up. My turn to strip. I make quick work of my shirt and my shorts and underwear, letting my hard cock swing free between my legs before climbing on top of him. He lets go of his cock and instead lets me straddle his lap, our dicks resting against each other. I grab them both with both hands, stroking gently, but when I look at Andy, he's not staring at my hands. He's looking everywhere else, soaking in the sight of me. Does he think I'm attractive, now that he has some semblance of strange feelings towards me? Does he think I'm sexy? Clearly I'm turning him on in some capacity, but that could just be because I'm handling his manhood. It's as if he reads my mind though. He laughs slightly, staring at my body. "What?" I ask. "Nothing. It's just... I'm seeing you in a whole new light." I'm probably blushing. "A good light?" He smiles up at me. "Yeah." I'll take it. I smile as I lean down and kiss him on the lips a few times before I ask "Do you have any lube?" "No," he responds. I arch my eyebrow. "Really?" I ask, sitting up straight on his lap. "What do you jerk off with?" He shrugs. "I don't use anything." I wince at the thought. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that." "What?" he says with an embarrassed laugh. "I'm not, like, dry or anything." "Do you precum a lot or something?" He blushes but nods. I look down at his dick. "Hmm..." Ignoring my cock, I grab a hold of him instead, focusing on stroking him. Sure enough, after a while, precum really starts oozing out of the tip. Fuck, he wasn't kidding. Only a minute later and his cock is slick with his natural lubricant. "Jesus, Andy." "Sorry." "No, don't be," I say, licking my lips. "This is perfect." I straddle him more, this time sitting up higher on his lap and putting his cock behind me. Right between my cheeks. I spit in my palm and mix it with Andy's precum before I reach behind me to rub my wet fingers against my hole. "What are you--?" Andy starts to ask. But he stops. He knows. I ease a finger into myself while we talk. "Do you want to?" I ask, looking down at him, my free hand resting on his chest. "I... Won't it hurt?" "Me? No," I say. "I told you: I know what I'm doing." He stares up at me as if in disbelief. "This is really happening," he says, putting one hand on his forehead. I laugh gently. "This is really happening," I repeat. He chews on his lip slightly. "Are you sure about this?" In general? "No," I say. "Are you?" He smiles. "No." So we're on the same page at least. Might as well. We've gone this far. No use in stopping now. So I spit in my palm again, reach back to give his cock some added lube, and then lift myself over him. I hold his cock up with my free hand and then slowly lower myself onto his dick. Once the head pushes through the ring, both of us let out soft moans. My eyes roll back further the lower I sink down, feeling him stretch me out the perfect amount. Like a snug puzzle piece. I exhale deeply, working my way down with one slow, smooth motion until my cheeks are resting in his lap. Fuck yes. There it is. I've officially taken Andy's virginity. I look down at him, watching his face as he experiences sex for the first time. I start slow, raising and lowering myself with gentle movements, and his mouth opens as he moans out, swearing under his breath. I can't help but grin as I work my hips in spiral motions, wanting to get a good grind in while also moving up and down. "Wow," Andy breathes out. I laugh. "Good?" "Very," he says in a choked voice, putting his hands on my thighs. "You feel..." But he struggles to find the word. I offer one up. "Incredible?" He looks up at me before bursting out into a small fit of laughter. "Yeah." I smile before getting to work. He closes his eyes for a moment, letting me control the pace and milk his cock with my experienced movements. I keep it slow, wanting him to really feel me out. Because I'm really feeling him out, too. God, he was blessed with a good cock. Maybe I like it so much just because of who it's attached to, but at this rate, I'm just considering myself lucky. I feel warm all over. Full. Complete, in a sense. Just when I'm thinking of starting to move faster, though, he stops me, gripping my thighs tightly. "Wait wait wait," he says hurriedly. "Stop. Stop." I pause my movements. "What?" He clenches his teeth, tensing for several moments before relaxing a bit. "I almost came." I laugh. "Amateur." He laughs. "That was almost embarrassing." "Well thank you for stopping," I say. I'd hate to end this early if he could only handle one nut. Then he smiles up at me. "Come down here." I lick my lips before leaning over, letting him wrap his arms around me as we start kissing. One of his hands slides down to my ass, gripping it as we swap spit slowly and deliberately. I can feel him moaning softly every so often, and it sends shivers down my spine. Right to my hole. I hope he edged enough because I want to start moving again. But he does me one better. Several ones better, actually. Keeping his dick planted in me and a firm grip on my back, he rolls us over. Once he's on top of me, he grinds into me once, and I let out a little mewl, feeling him get extra deep before suddenly, he pulls out. I almost protest before I realize where he's moving: down. He kisses my neck in various places, almost in a curious manner, before slowly making his way towards my groin. Oh fuck. My cock is at its absolute hardest, and it nudges under his jaw when he gets close. He pulls back so that he can grab it and get a better look at it. "The fuck am I supposed to do with this thing?" he asks, grinning up at me. I laugh, probably harder than necessary, but I feel so damn good. I'm glad he's making this playful. Fun. Exploratory. Even if he's nervous, clearly we're in this together. "Just do what I did." He snorts. "I can't do what you did," he says, stroking me in his tight, masculine grip. I grunt a bit. "Just do what comes naturally then." He looks down at my cock curiously, as if he's inspecting it, before finally, his mouth opens and he wraps his lips around the head. I moan out instantly, my skin feeling electrified by the contact. He keeps his lips tight around my cock as he bobs up and down slightly, testing out his limits. I don't understand how it feels this good though. It's like he knows exactly where to put his tongue at all times. And then, he guides me into his throat. His fucking throat. It happens without warning and without me expecting it, but I moan out when I feel that added sensation. I stare down at him, impressed. Does he just not have a gag reflex? Maybe it's a genetic trait. He bobs up and down, repeatedly taking me into his throat every time he slides down my shaft. My legs are sore from tensing, but for good reason: I'm trying hard to keep my orgasm at bay. But suddenly, he takes me especially deep -- quite nearly all the way, and I almost lose it. I basically slap his forehead to get him off my cock. "Ow! Jesus!" he says, rubbing his skin. "Sorry, sorry," I say, clutching my cock like a vice to keep the cum in. "I just... You almost made me lose it." "You could just use your words," he says with a slight laugh, blinking a few times. "Well you could've told me you're actually good at sucking dick," I fire back. "Where the hell did that come from?" He shrugs. "I just did what came naturally, like you said." I roll my eyes. "'What the fuck do I do with this thing, Joshy?'" I say, mocking his voice. "Shut up," he says, slapping my thigh with a slight grin. Then he licks his lips a bit, glancing at my cock. "You good now?" he asks, peering over up at my face. "Yeah," I say in an amused tone. He shifts onto his stomach more, getting his face between my legs again. He kisses the inside of my thighs tenderly, moving into my crotch more and nestling his face into my balls. I moan softly when he kisses them, but he doesn't spend much time there. In fact, his plan was to get at something a little lower. He slides his arms under my legs and lifts them over his shoulders, my ass raising up just enough for him to get what he wants. I gasp when I feel his tongue, my hand going right for his hair and tugging. He may have been unsure about sucking dick, but he's certainly not unsure about eating ass. He's a fucking natural. Or maybe I'm just exaggerating because I'm so overcome with feelings and sensations right now. But I can't help but follow the precision of his tongue, the insistent way he laps at my hole, the teasing penetration, the cute little kisses he gives me. I could die like this. He takes his time rimming me, too -- much longer than when he was blowing me. I resist all temptation to grab at my cock because I know what will happen as soon as I touch myself. I'll cum, and cum hard. There'll be no stopping that one. So I keep tugging on Andy's hair as he slowly tongue-fucks me until he finally pulls away, leaving me breathless. He licks his lips a bit. "You taste good," he comments, and I blush as he smiles and crawls over me again. I open my legs for him as he kisses me tongue-first, making sure I get a taste of my own flavor. He keeps his lips firmly against mine as he shifts between my legs, getting into a good penetrative position. I feel him reach between us to grab himself, and once he grabs hold, he breaks the kiss, looks down, and then slowly reinserts himself without a word. I wrap my arms around his neck as he eases into me, listening to him moan and watching his face as he readjusts to the sensation of being inside me. He presses forward until he's fully in me, and I whimper softly at feeling him balls-deep. That's the spot right there. I tug on his head, and he takes that as the signal to continue kissing me. As soon as our lips touch, he starts moving his hips. He starts off at a good pace, clutching onto me and working his hips in a smooth, rhythmic fashion. But I tell him to go harder. He can't keep up with both kissing and fucking me, so he hovers over me as he picks up the pace and gives it to me harder as per my request. My mouth hangs open as he hits that spot over and over again. "Harder," I say again in a breathy voice, and soon, the sound of his hips slapping my ass are echoing off the walls. Hope Mom doesn't hear us. I see Andy so differently in this moment. He's a natural, sexual being. There's a beast underneath that soft, gentle exterior, willing to get rough behind closed doors. All someone had to do was unlock it. I can't help but smile and moan as my brother deep-dicks me, giving it to me just as hard as I need it, gripping me tightly and running me right into the fucking mattress. I could cum without even touching myself. I might, at this rate. "Fuck," Andy groans, giving me an even longer stride that has me gasping and rolling my eyes back. I feel one of his hands reach between my head and the mattress to pull on my hair, and the other hand grip my hip to hold me in place as he drives his cock into me. This boy knows how to use his body. He knows how to move it. Every muscle, every joint is calculated and working specifically for this fuck. This moment. This closeness. I can't resist not touching myself anymore. My hand automatically finds its way to my cock and I grip it tight, stroking like a madman, feeling my orgasm build already. "Are you close?" Andy asks me. I open my eyes and look at him, nodding. "Y-yeah." "Me too," he says, making sure each thrust is as deep as he can possibly get. "Where should I--?" "Cum in me," I say. He bites his lip. "You sur--?" "Yes!" I cry out, but I can't wait for him. I'm cumming. The mere prospect of him being so close to unloading in me sends me right over the edge, and I moan in absolute fucking bliss as my orgasm takes over my body. I vaguely feel thick ropes of hot cum splattering against my torso, but I mostly feel the tingling. That stimulating, all-encompassing warmth that comes with a good cum. And then Andy follows. He clenches his teeth, grunting as he gives me a few harsh thrusts as he starts to fill me up. "Fucking--" he starts to say, but his moans cut him off. He keeps himself nestled deep inside me as his cock pumps and pumps until he's finally spent. Once finished, he lets out a long exhale and untenses his muscles, relaxing. Now we're both panting messes. But I can't help but laugh slightly. It starts slow but gradually builds, and Andy looks at me, still trying to catch his breath. "What?" "You're a beast, Andy." He blushes. "What'd I do?" But I only laugh again. "That's a good thing, dumbass," I say, nudging his chest. "Oh." He laughs slightly before licking his lips, his eyes scanning my face for a few moments. Then he slowly pulls out of me with a slight moan and then sits back on his heels. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, sighing. "Damn." I just stay resting on my back. "Damn is right." He runs his fingers through his hair before saying "I can't believe that just happened." "Losing your virginity or fucking me?" "Both. Both combined," he says. I laugh. "Yeah, it's... crazy." To say the least. He looks at me before coming over to lie next to me, resting on his side. "I feel good though," he says, smiling. I roll onto my side and face him. "Yeah?" "Yeah. I don't know. It's still crazy," he says. Then he laughs. "I spent like all week trying not to think about you like this, and now, here we are." I blink in surprise. "All week?" He nods. "Or however long it's been. I don't know. Something kind of shifted randomly when I was thinking about the whole Milly thing." I arch my eyebrow. "Shifted how?" "Like, with things I used to fantasize about doing with her... I started replacing her with you." I smile slightly. I understand only too well what he means. I've been feeling that way longer than he has. But it still feels kind of hot knowing he's been having sexual fantasies involving me. That it's not just one-sided. I sigh slightly. "What do we do now?" I ask. He laughs. "You're asking me?" "Well, yeah." "I don't know what's going on, Josh," he says, reaching over slightly and nudging my stomach with his thumb gently. "I'm still confused about all of this." "Okay," I say slowly. "Do we really need to discuss it right now?" I sigh slightly. "I guess not. But aren't there some things we should try and... I don't know. Hash out?" "Like...?" "You say you're confused, which I understand, but which direction are we taking?" He doesn't understand what I'm getting at. "I don't get it." "I like you, Andy," I tell him. "A lot. Like I have feelings for you." I feel my heart pounding, but not as anxiously as before. Now I'm much calmer. I mean, we just had sex for Christ's sake. A little chat about feelings should be a cinch. "I have for a while, and I don't know what to do with those feelings right now." He looks at me, his fingers still on the wristwatch. "I feel the exact same way, Josh." "Really?" "I thought that was obvious," he says, looking almost amused. "You didn't explicitly say you have feelings for me," I tell him. "It was only implied." "Well, sure," he says, sliding me a little closer by holding onto me, "but I thought that was enough." I find myself cuddling up to him. I knew he was an after-sex cuddler. I could feel it in my bones. "I just need confirmation." "This is your confirmation," he says, gesturing to our nude bodies, and I laugh slightly. "All I was saying is that it's just weird, because... you're my little brother. And I thought I was talking to a girl all summer." He squints one eye slightly. "It's just a lot for a guy to wrap my head around and face and whatnot." "Okay," I say, satisfied with his answers. For me, it was simple. All it took was a kiss to bring all those feelings right back. For him, it's more complicated. He has to face his sexuality and his trust in me. But it seems like he's getting there... I don't know what that will mean for us exactly once he DOES get there, but one thing is obvious to me now: we're not stopping. "So... we're good?" He grins. "I'm good if you're good," he says. I take his hand in mine, glancing at our matching watches and smiling softly to myself. "Feeling pretty incredible." I wade through the busy crowd, already feeling exhausted. I thought this would be a more exciting moment, but the ceremony was just like high school: drawn-out, boring, and unnecessary. And sitting through all those names? Jesus Christ. I should have picked a smaller college. But I see Andy's red hair towards the back of the crowd and immediately it makes everything worth it. The relief and excitement I feel propels me forward, and I weave through a few embracing, teary-eyed families before I finally reach my own. There he is, beaming and holding a ridiculously huge bouquet. He opens his arms and I rush into them, hugging him so tightly. He leans over, burying his face in my hair and kissing the top of my head. "Congratulations, Josh," he says. "Thanks," I say, smiling. Now this feels like an actual accomplishment. Graduating college is much more of an ordeal than graduating high school is. I look around slightly before asking "Where's mom?" When I look up at Andy, he's making a pained face. "She... didn't come." I sigh heavily. Yet again, Andy's playing parent. The only one who has supported me. Loved me. Cared for me. But I can't say that I'm upset that my mom isn't here. I gave that up long ago, when I realized who my real family is. My big brother is here, lending his supportive, encouraging hand, and that's more than enough for me. "It's okay," I say earnestly. "Yeah?" he asks before he remembers the flowers. "Oh! These are for you!" he says, handing me the flowers. I hold them and my diploma, trying to balance them both in my grip. It's difficult considering the size of this little collection of flowers. This bouquet really outdoes any bouquet around us, though, so I feel a bit elitist for the moment. "You really went all out with this," I say with a laugh, holding the bouquet in one arm like a baby. "Yeah, well. It's well-deserved," he says, practically radiating joy right now. "I'm so proud of you, Josh. You have no idea." "I have a general idea," I say with a laugh, but I have to blink away a few tears from my eyes. "I love you," I blurt out. He grins. "I love you too," he says, reaching over and taking my free hand. We lock our fingers together lightly, even with everyone around us. I bite my lip. "I wanna kiss you so badly right now." He blushes slightly, looking around. "Um--" "Obviously I'm not gonna," I say, rolling my eyes. "But just keep that in mind." He chuckles. "I will." We don't spend too much more time at the school. I get some pictures with a few friends and say a couple goodbyes, but that's about it. If anything, I'm eager to get home. There are a couple grad parties I'm attending throughout the week anyway, so I don't really need to say goodbye to everyone. I just want to spend time with Andy. I'm exhausted. And starving. Thankfully, as we walk back to the car, Andy suggests we eat. "God, please," I say. "I feel like I'm going to pass out, I'm so hungry." "I've got you covered," he says, putting his arm around me while we walk. "Better not be Applebee's," I mutter, grinning slightly. He shoves me, laughing. "For your information, it's a surprise." I arch my eyebrow, intrigued. "A surprise?" When we get to the car, Andy pops the trunk open to show me the surprise: a full picnic, including a blanket, a bottle of champagne, and a basket filled with sandwiches and goodies. I smile widely. "Andy..." "I thought it'd be fun," he says, smiling at me. "There's a beach not too far from here, if you wanna--" "Yes," I say immediately, shutting the trunk and hopping into the car in a hurry. "Let's fuckin' go!" I'm happy to see that no one else had the idea to come to this tiny beach today, even though the weather is flawless. A happy mid-70s, without a cloud in the sky. The sun shines down on us without being overbearing, and the waves splash onto the sand in the most serene way. We set up the blanket at a decent distance from the water, and once I set the basket down, I gaze off into the horizon for a moment and take the time to appreciate the man who's with me right now. Who's always been with me. Who's made sacrifices for me, who favors me without me asking him to, who works to the bone to make sure I'm fed and housed and clothed. Who loves me for my true, genuine self. Who loves me in a way I didn't think was really plausible. I turn to smile at him, who's sitting down and fussing with the picnic basket. "It's so hard to find anything in these things," he says, taking almost everything out. I just laugh slightly before saying "Wait." He pauses as I come join him on the blanket. Instead of sitting next to him, though, I straddle his lap, take his face in my hands, and kiss him. He smiles and kisses back slowly. "Someone's gonna see us," he says, but I notice he wraps his arms around me anyway, keeping me close. "Fuck 'em," I say, sharing a few intimate, deep, sensual kisses with my brother. This is what feels right. Everything about this moment. The sense of accomplishment, followed by a private moment by the sea with Andy. He hums a bit against my lips, chuckling. "Save it for later," he says, finally pulling away. Not before he gives my ass a little squeeze though. "Fiiine," I moan before smiling. But I don't move from his lap. I merely turn around and sit between his legs, resting my back against his torso. He's quick to put his arm around me, rubbing my stomach in a gentle motion. I find myself relaxing in his embrace, leaning back against his shoulder and exhaling softly. I would never have gotten to this point without him. Graduating, and with a job already lined up fresh out of school. Now I can really help contribute to the financials of the house. Now Andy doesn't have to be the sole provider. It's his turn to take a backseat and let me treat him and pamper him and shower him in all the good things that he so very much deserves to have come his way. I glance up at him and smile as he gazes toward the open ocean. "One more," I say. He looks at me and laughs. "Only one," he says, holding up a finger. "Just one. And make it good," I playfully demand. "Mmm." He grins before cupping my face with his palm and slowly leaning in for a long, drawn out kiss. Nothing else matters but this. Us. Being in love. And even if it's a secret love, we're only going to make the most of it.