Page 7 of Brother
“Nah. Alreadydid mine.”
Nathan tampeddown the disappointmentthat flared. It felt, lately, that he was taking much morethan he was giving back.
That night, whenSimon slipped into his bed in the quiet of the house, Nathanwas brave enough to turnaround, returning the tight embrace. Simon stiffened for a second,obviously surprised, before dissolving into the hold.
They fellasleeplike that,pressed so close they were almost one.
**********
Simon’s constant presence started becoming a littleoverwhelming. He insisted that Nathan accompany him to see hisfriends, slinging his arm around Nathan’s shoulders and barelyremoving it all evening. Simon followed Nathan around as he didchores and then roped Nathan into doing the same—a waste of time,frankly.
And every single night, Simon would sneak intoNathan’s bed, skin to hot skin, until Nathan could barely remembersleeping without him.
It was just…eating him up. All those months away,purging himself of this dependency, and it was crawling into himagain in only a couple of weeks.
Nathan had friends Simon hadn’t spentthatmuch time with when they were in school—the ones Nathan had hungout with when Simon was busy with sports-related duties. Seeingthem was the perfect opportunity to have a little time and spaceaway from his brother, but he couldn’t sneak out—he didn’t knowwhatwas going on with Simon, but he didn’t want to hurt himand make it worse.
“Imma go see Claire and Cale and the lot tonight.”Nathan tried to bring it up casually as they sat close together,video controllers in hand.
“Cool. I drive this time, you’re slow as fuck.”
Nathan swallowed. “You don’t have to come. It’sbetter if—you don’t really know them. I don’t want you to feel leftout.”
“Nah, it’s cool. I can just sit and listen to younerds talk. And Josh is gonna be there, right?”
“Uh. Yeah.”
“Yeah, bro, I can catch up with him.” Simon threwNathan a goofy grin. “Unless you don’t want me to go, obviously,”he teased, voice jovial.
For a moment, Nathan couldn’t speak. The fuckingcertainty in Simon’s voice that Nathan not wanting him there wasabsurd pierced through soft tissue and bone because…Nathandidwant Simon there.
Of course he did. There was nobody he loved likeSimon. Nobody he was happier with—nobody that made him feel moreseen, and understood, and taken care of. He feltsafewithSimon, no matter who else was there.
But what the fuck was he supposed to do? Was hesupposed to tell Simon that Nathan always wanted him there, but itwas too much of a temptation? Tell him that the heat of him so nearmade Nathan want to justmelt, to be consumed, swallowedup?
Should he tell Simon that at night he imaginedpressing his ass against Simon’s crotch until he could feel thehardness there? That he wanted Simon to grab his hair, to pin himdown, to mark him up with his teeth and nails andtake?
Should he tell Simon that sometimes Nathan couldn’ttake how much he wanted? Couldn’t stand it, couldn’t hold it in, sodesperate for it, it hurt?
What excuse could Nathan possibly come up with? “Iwant space,” had never existed between them.
The silence stretched between them, and Nathanwatched as Simon’s expression fell little by little. His eyebrows,first, turning uncertain. The corners of his mouth, then the restof it, tipping down. And his eyes. The pained squint of them, as ifhe were trying to process a blow.
“Oh,” Simon said quietly. “Yeah. Sorry, of course,you want a little…you know. Space and stuff. Duh.”
Nathan shook his head even though he couldn’t denythe truth of any of that. “Just for tonight, just to catch up withthem without worrying about, you know, someone there that doesn’tknow them,” Nathan explained, brushing over the fact that hisfriends knew Simon plenty.
And it wasn’t like Nathan didn’t know the guilteating him up was fucked up. Asking for a few hours apart, in anyother relationship, would be a given. He’d be annoyed at anybodywho made him feel weird for asking—for even having to ask.
But Simon and Nathan…it was just different. It justwas. Nathan wished he had a perfectly healthy explanationfor it, but in reality, they’d been inseparable since inception.Even as infants, they would have to sleep in the same crib, eachcrying when the other was taken out of sight.
Their dad always said how it was almost eerie, howthey always looked for each other. How they always found eachother, no matter how many people were in the room.
“Sorry,” Nathan mumbled. “We can hang outtomorrow?”
“Yeah, ’course,” Simon said with that weird fuckingsmile on his face—the fake one from the grocery store. The oneNathan had never seen before then.
Nathan turned to the game and watched his characterdie.
