Disclaimer: I don't own anyone…they all belong to Vince (lucky SOB that he
is)
As I walk towards our room, I hear Pearl Jam coming from inside and I smile because I know that you're inside. I open the door and walk in. You're sitting cross-legged on your bed, reading something. I don't want to disturb you, but you hear me and look up. I'm shocked by the anger in your eyes.
"What the fuck, Matt?" you say in a low, angry voice.
My eyes fall to the book in your hands, and, with a gasp, I realize that it's my notebook.
Oh, shit.
Even as I feel the panic rising in me, I force my voice to remain calm as I say, "Where the hell did you get that?"
You shrug. "You left it on your bed."
"So that gives you the right to look through it?"
You shrug again before tossing the notebook back at me. "It was open. You ever consider being an artist? Some of those pictures are pretty damn good." With that, you walk out of the room, slamming the door behind you.
Ah, fuck.
I pick up the notebook from where it had landed by my feet. As I flip through it, I realize that you probably hate me, and my heart breaks. I never wanted you to see this.
The pages open to the very first picture that I ever drew of you. You're lying on a bed, hair draped all over the pillow and a sheet covering you from the waist down. There is a peaceful look on your sleeping face. As I look at the picture, tears start to fall from my eyes and soon I'm sobbing.
I don't know how long I laid there crying, or how long I slept after my tears had worn off, but when I woke up, you were there, sitting on my bed next to me. I sit up quickly, fearing the worst until I realize that you don't look angry.
You stare at me as if you want to look into my soul and I must have looked worried because you offer me a slight smile and say, "Don't worry. I'm not gonna hurt you for being in love with me."
I sigh in relief at that and you smile. "And," you add, "at least now I know why you like that song by Rammstein so much. The 'Spiel Mit Mir' song."
I'm startled and you know it. "How-?"
"You know that I'm a curious person. Did you think that you could make me listen to that song over and over again without me looking up the English translations?"
I smile a bit. "Curiosity killed the cat," I scolded.
"I still have a few lives left." You give me this Cheshire Cat grin and I'm forced to smile back.
"So, you don't hate me?" I ask softly.
"I could never hate you, Matt," you tell me, and I feel my heart start to mend. "But-"
Damnit. Why are there always buts?
"But," you continue, "I think we have a few things that we need to talk about. First of all, why didn't you just tell me? It would have made everything easier."
I stare at you in amazement. "You think it could be that easy? Just walk up to you and say, 'Hey, Jeff. I just wanted you to know that I'm in love with you.' It's not that easy!"
"I never said that it would be easy, Matt. But you could have tried."
"I thought that you would hate me if I had told you that," I whisper.
You slide an arm around me and pull me close. I snuggle up to you, your embrace making me blissfully happy, at least for the time being. "Matt, nothing could ever make me hate you. You're my older brother, my hero. The guy that I've always looked up to. The man that I've always wanted to be. How could I hate you?"
"Don't you understand? That same older brother, that same hero, is in love with you! Has been in love with you for years!" I start to cry all over again. You hold me tight, whispering soft words against my hair.
Eventually, my tears subside and I'm left in your arms sniffling. Then you get up and go to your bag. I watch you digging through it until you find what you were looking for: a folder. "Remember when you were with Adam?" I nod, smiling at the memories. "Well, he gave me this after you two broke up." You hand me the folder.
I look up at you, a question on my face and you gesture for me to open the folder. I do and my jaw drops. I can't believe what I'm seeing. When I look up at you, you look away, blushing. Finally, I find my voice. "Well, I guess we all have secrets, huh?"
You nod, a small smile on your beautiful face. "Adam drew it one night while you were sleeping, but never gave it to you. I'm not sure why, but he gave it to me after you broke up. Maybe he was thinking that I'd take a hint or something. He's almost as good an artist as you," you add.
I look at the picture of me, and grin. Good ol Adam. I wonder briefly if I hurt him by loving you. I shake my head. He loves someone else, too.
I realize that you're still staring at me, and I ask, "Why'd you keep it?"
You shake your head. "I have no idea, Matt." You sit back down and lean against me, your head on my shoulder. Twisting your head up, you ask, "Now what?"
I shake my head slightly, somewhat afraid to let you see that your big brother doesn't have an answer to everything, because despite your age, you still believe that I know everything.
That's part of what makes me love you. You're naïve, but wise beyond your years at the same time. You still believe in fairy tales and happy endings, but you know that not all dreams come true.
I finally respond to your question. "I don't know, Jeff, now what?"
You sit up and look at me, a pensive look crossing your face. Suddenly, your lips are on mine, and it's a dream come true and I'm soaring high with ecstasy, and just as suddenly, they're gone, leaving me feeling empty and
un-alive.
You look at bit frightened, and I realize that what just happened has scared you. "Jeff," I whisper hoarsely, pulling you towards me and now your face is joyful again and you press your lips to mine again, and I'm soaring once again.
Our tongues mingle and out hands slide across each other's bodies in a frenzy of passion. Your mouth moves to my neck, sucking and licking, making me shiver, and I want you to shiver, too. My hands slide up your shirt, teasing your nipples and you gasp slightly against my neck, your lips falling to my collarbone, licking, sucking, nipping it, then kissing away the pain and soothing the marks with you tongue.
I need to feel your mouth on mine again, and I pull you up by your hair, out mouths crushing together, our tongues exploring. You tear your mouth away and struggle to pull off my shirt and I pull off yours and your tongue attacks my nipples, making me moan. You kiss your way down my chest, and then back up, tracing my ribs with kisses and then suddenly we both freeze, realizing what's happening.
"Shit, Matt," you say.
"Shh," I say back. "It'll all work out somehow."
You grin, and I realize that I've now answered your question, and I grin, too.
"I love you, Matt," you sigh against my chest, snuggling up to me.
"I love you, too, baby," I whisper back, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. And I know in my heart that it really will work out.
~The End~
A/N: The song mentioned is by Rammestein…the lyrics translate into:
Play with me
We share a room and the bed
Brother dear please go right ahead
Brother dear come touch me here
Slide to me so close and near
By the bed a big black hole
In they jump all the sheep
Much too old but I count them still
But I cannot fall asleep
Past my navel in the bush
Waiting there white fantasies
Brother dear come hold me tight
And shake for me leaves from the trees
Play a game with me
Give me your hand and
Play with me
A game
Play with me
A game
Play with me
'Cause we´re alone now
Play with me
A game
Father, mother, child
My brother dear hand in pain
He rolls back over once again
My brother helps me now and then
So that I may sleep again
Play a game with me
Give me your hand and
Play with me
A game
Play with me
A game
Play with me
'Cause we´re alone now
Play with me
A game
Play with me
A game
Play with me
A game
Play with me
A game
Play with me
A game
Father, mother, child
As I walk towards our room, I hear Pearl Jam coming from inside and I smile because I know that you're inside. I open the door and walk in. You're sitting cross-legged on your bed, reading something. I don't want to disturb you, but you hear me and look up. I'm shocked by the anger in your eyes.
"What the fuck, Matt?" you say in a low, angry voice.
My eyes fall to the book in your hands, and, with a gasp, I realize that it's my notebook.
Oh, shit.
Even as I feel the panic rising in me, I force my voice to remain calm as I say, "Where the hell did you get that?"
You shrug. "You left it on your bed."
"So that gives you the right to look through it?"
You shrug again before tossing the notebook back at me. "It was open. You ever consider being an artist? Some of those pictures are pretty damn good." With that, you walk out of the room, slamming the door behind you.
Ah, fuck.
I pick up the notebook from where it had landed by my feet. As I flip through it, I realize that you probably hate me, and my heart breaks. I never wanted you to see this.
The pages open to the very first picture that I ever drew of you. You're lying on a bed, hair draped all over the pillow and a sheet covering you from the waist down. There is a peaceful look on your sleeping face. As I look at the picture, tears start to fall from my eyes and soon I'm sobbing.
I don't know how long I laid there crying, or how long I slept after my tears had worn off, but when I woke up, you were there, sitting on my bed next to me. I sit up quickly, fearing the worst until I realize that you don't look angry.
You stare at me as if you want to look into my soul and I must have looked worried because you offer me a slight smile and say, "Don't worry. I'm not gonna hurt you for being in love with me."
I sigh in relief at that and you smile. "And," you add, "at least now I know why you like that song by Rammstein so much. The 'Spiel Mit Mir' song."
I'm startled and you know it. "How-?"
"You know that I'm a curious person. Did you think that you could make me listen to that song over and over again without me looking up the English translations?"
I smile a bit. "Curiosity killed the cat," I scolded.
"I still have a few lives left." You give me this Cheshire Cat grin and I'm forced to smile back.
"So, you don't hate me?" I ask softly.
"I could never hate you, Matt," you tell me, and I feel my heart start to mend. "But-"
Damnit. Why are there always buts?
"But," you continue, "I think we have a few things that we need to talk about. First of all, why didn't you just tell me? It would have made everything easier."
I stare at you in amazement. "You think it could be that easy? Just walk up to you and say, 'Hey, Jeff. I just wanted you to know that I'm in love with you.' It's not that easy!"
"I never said that it would be easy, Matt. But you could have tried."
"I thought that you would hate me if I had told you that," I whisper.
You slide an arm around me and pull me close. I snuggle up to you, your embrace making me blissfully happy, at least for the time being. "Matt, nothing could ever make me hate you. You're my older brother, my hero. The guy that I've always looked up to. The man that I've always wanted to be. How could I hate you?"
"Don't you understand? That same older brother, that same hero, is in love with you! Has been in love with you for years!" I start to cry all over again. You hold me tight, whispering soft words against my hair.
Eventually, my tears subside and I'm left in your arms sniffling. Then you get up and go to your bag. I watch you digging through it until you find what you were looking for: a folder. "Remember when you were with Adam?" I nod, smiling at the memories. "Well, he gave me this after you two broke up." You hand me the folder.
I look up at you, a question on my face and you gesture for me to open the folder. I do and my jaw drops. I can't believe what I'm seeing. When I look up at you, you look away, blushing. Finally, I find my voice. "Well, I guess we all have secrets, huh?"
You nod, a small smile on your beautiful face. "Adam drew it one night while you were sleeping, but never gave it to you. I'm not sure why, but he gave it to me after you broke up. Maybe he was thinking that I'd take a hint or something. He's almost as good an artist as you," you add.
I look at the picture of me, and grin. Good ol Adam. I wonder briefly if I hurt him by loving you. I shake my head. He loves someone else, too.
I realize that you're still staring at me, and I ask, "Why'd you keep it?"
You shake your head. "I have no idea, Matt." You sit back down and lean against me, your head on my shoulder. Twisting your head up, you ask, "Now what?"
I shake my head slightly, somewhat afraid to let you see that your big brother doesn't have an answer to everything, because despite your age, you still believe that I know everything.
That's part of what makes me love you. You're naïve, but wise beyond your years at the same time. You still believe in fairy tales and happy endings, but you know that not all dreams come true.
I finally respond to your question. "I don't know, Jeff, now what?"
You sit up and look at me, a pensive look crossing your face. Suddenly, your lips are on mine, and it's a dream come true and I'm soaring high with ecstasy, and just as suddenly, they're gone, leaving me feeling empty and
un-alive.
You look at bit frightened, and I realize that what just happened has scared you. "Jeff," I whisper hoarsely, pulling you towards me and now your face is joyful again and you press your lips to mine again, and I'm soaring once again.
Our tongues mingle and out hands slide across each other's bodies in a frenzy of passion. Your mouth moves to my neck, sucking and licking, making me shiver, and I want you to shiver, too. My hands slide up your shirt, teasing your nipples and you gasp slightly against my neck, your lips falling to my collarbone, licking, sucking, nipping it, then kissing away the pain and soothing the marks with you tongue.
I need to feel your mouth on mine again, and I pull you up by your hair, out mouths crushing together, our tongues exploring. You tear your mouth away and struggle to pull off my shirt and I pull off yours and your tongue attacks my nipples, making me moan. You kiss your way down my chest, and then back up, tracing my ribs with kisses and then suddenly we both freeze, realizing what's happening.
"Shit, Matt," you say.
"Shh," I say back. "It'll all work out somehow."
You grin, and I realize that I've now answered your question, and I grin, too.
"I love you, Matt," you sigh against my chest, snuggling up to me.
"I love you, too, baby," I whisper back, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. And I know in my heart that it really will work out.
~The End~
A/N: The song mentioned is by Rammestein…the lyrics translate into:
Play with me
We share a room and the bed
Brother dear please go right ahead
Brother dear come touch me here
Slide to me so close and near
By the bed a big black hole
In they jump all the sheep
Much too old but I count them still
But I cannot fall asleep
Past my navel in the bush
Waiting there white fantasies
Brother dear come hold me tight
And shake for me leaves from the trees
Play a game with me
Give me your hand and
Play with me
A game
Play with me
A game
Play with me
'Cause we´re alone now
Play with me
A game
Father, mother, child
My brother dear hand in pain
He rolls back over once again
My brother helps me now and then
So that I may sleep again
Play a game with me
Give me your hand and
Play with me
A game
Play with me
A game
Play with me
'Cause we´re alone now
Play with me
A game
Play with me
A game
Play with me
A game
Play with me
A game
Play with me
A game
Father, mother, child