We all loved each other. For as long as we've all been together. We've never found a word for it. We aren't family. We've betrayed each other too many times to be considered that. We aren't lovers. This isn't some orgy club that we run. We just are.
We are all in love with each other. I'd die for them and I know they would die for me. We don't find it weird to lay together, whether it be two of us or three of us or all of us. We will hold each other when we hurt, and we don't find it disturbing to kiss each other when we need it. We've never found it strange. It's just been who we are.
Sometimes they're my brothers. Picking me up when I fall and supporting me in my wrong doings. Sometimes they're my loves. Holding me when I can't stand and comforting me when I've messed up. Sometimes they're my enemies. Pushing me down and myself pushing them away. We've all done it to each other at one time or another.
The five of us love each other. We all have some we love more than others. Some that we would do things we would never do to or with the others, but have somehow let deep enough into our heart that we would do with them.
I love all of them. I would kiss them, I would hold their hand, I'd punch them in the jaw, and I'd never want to see them leave. That's how we all feel about each other.
It's something we talk about when we're up late at night in the dark, shivering in the cold and drunk. It's something we bring up when one of us is down, and we all climb in bed and hold each other. We never talk about it out loud. It happens in small whispers, as if it's a secret we have to keep to ourselves.
That we all love one another.