Alfred

I chewed thoughtfully on my cereal and looked across the table at my brother. Matthew wasn't meeting my eyes. He was staring at his bagel more than he was eating it. I looked away and waited for him to be ready to talk.

His scream woke me up, huddled in the warm wall of Arthur's arms. I started so violently I almost fell out of bed. Arthur groaned, wrapped his arms around me, grumbled in my ear, "Go back to sleep."

"Matthew," I explained. "I need to go see Matthew." I disentangled myself and pulled on some pants before going downstairs.

Matthew was sitting up in bed, looking mortified.

"Dude, Matt, are you okay?" I asked, scrubbing at my crusty, stinging eyes.

"I'm fine. Nightmare." His voice was tense and fearful. The haziness around his eyes made it seem like he was still half in the nightmare.

I grinned at him. "Yeah, well, I hope you're prepared to explain that to the police if you keep hollering like that. "

"Yeah…" he said faintly. He stared indistinctly at his hands lying slim and pale on the red blankets. I stared at them too, watched them slowly curl into the blanket and pull it back from his bony legs.

"Alfred…" His voice was hazy, dreamlike.

"Yeah?"

"I—No, sorry. Forgot. Never mind. Sorry."

I grinned again, but he wasn't looking. He had his hands to the sides of his head, pale fingers buried in his yellow hair. I didn't need to be psychic to know my brother didn't want to talk. Must have been one hell of a nightmare.

He seemed better at breakfast, but still a little out of it. Like maybe he hadn't had enough sleep. He chewed slowly and deliberately, as if he had to motivate himself to make his jaw work. Matt was usually quiet, but this was different. Like, I got the feeling he couldn't talk, even if he wanted too.

But, I didn't want to bug him. I figured he'd tell me if there was something wrong.

I shifted around on the chair, feeling that little ache, not bad enough to be genuinely painful, but just uncomfortable enough to keep me from forgetting it was there. It was kind of thrilling to think about, that secret thing that I knew, but Matt didn't.

I used to hate keeping secrets from brother. But, this thing was even better when it was just me and Arthur. It was horrible and dirty and secret and happening right under the same room that my brother slept.

It was all wrong. So great and wrong. Great because it was wrong.

Wasn't always like this. I didn't always rejoice in the wrongness. I love my daddy, and I thought that it was the same way that everyone loved their daddy, like Matt loved his daddy. Daddy was tall and strong and I got that strange feeling in my stomach when he had that expression like at first he was angry and then there was that little bit of respect, like he couldn't stay mad. He never looked at Matt like that.

I heard a tired groan and it sent a thrill up my spine. I turned and saw Arthur standing in the doorway of the kitchen, scrubbing at his eyes and scratching at his disheveled blond hair. I admit, I could have cared less about Matt at that point.

My eyes slowly scanned his body, the body that had been naked, curled around me, over me, in me only a few minutes ago. That's something new I learned about clothes since I started sleeping with Arthur. Only I knew what was under those clothes. That was my secret. All mine. Ours.

"Good morning," I chirruped. Arthur smiled raggedly. He walked inside, touched my hair, and then went to make his morning tea.

"Morning yourself," he said gruffly. I watched as he filled the kettle, flicked on the switch. I heard Matt pick up the orange juice and pour himself a glass.

In that moment, I was faintly annoyed at Matt for being there, intruding on me and Arthur. There are times that I wish that he would go away, so that me and Arthur never had to hide what we were at home. But, I don't like to think that, because Matt is my brother.

I think Arthur would get rid of Matt if he could. If I asked him to he would. But I won't, because Matt is my brother.

My ass was still hurting. I twisted around in my seat and made sure that Arthur could see me. That he knew I could still feel him inside me. Tonight, I decided, I was going to be inside him.

I watched him watch me for a moment, and then smiled in satisfaction and turned back to my cereal. Matt was staring at his hands flat on the table. He hadn't reacted to Arthur's entering the room.

I figured that he must have been really out of it. When I asked him about it, once Arthur had dropped us off at school, he stared at me for a moment, blinking, and then made a little smile and muttered something about a big test in his Lit class.

Then, we separated and went off to our different classes and friends. I forgot about anything to do with my brother within a few minutes. Matt has that effect on people.

There were days when everything else started to become dull and overlong, and I spent all day just looking forward to night, when I would make my way to Arthur's room and we could finally be together.

It's wrong. He's your father. You can't sleep with your father. That's why he won't open his eyes. It's your sick obsession. You made him do it. You're sick.

And you don't believe any of that, do you? You'll keep doing this until someone makes you stop.

And it won't bother you at all.