Twin Ties 1: My Brother's Lover (22 page)

When he asked what he came in there to ask, it came out sounding deadly serious, in a vastly different tone than his first question. “Where the hell is my fucking gun?”

Eyes widening fractionally with what Evan decided was unmistakably guilt, Brennan slowly drew his legs up, pulling himself into a more upright position.

They were both very, very still for a long moment until Brennan quickly tried to dart from the bed. Evan grabbed him easily, pulling him back down, then held his brother to the bed by his arms, leaning over him when he tried to wriggle free.

“Where is it?! What’d you do with it?!”

Brennan looked gravely up at him. Twisting like a limber, very strong cat, he easily flipped them over so
he
was the one on top. Evan reacted angrily. Brennan acted fast, grabbing Evan’s wrists, pinning them to the mattress by his head. Then he sat firmly atop Evan’s hips, straddling him. Their faces were mere inches apart.

Evan fought back at first, writhing and bucking. It took all of three seconds before he realized how screwed he was. Not only was he unable to throw Brennan off, but he became keenly aware of how very thin Brennan’s pants actually were. He himself was only wearing some old, worn sweatpants until the laundry was done. And Brennan’s firm butt was perched perfectly atop Evan’s cock.

All of Evan’s rage about the gun, all of his righteous arguments about trust and respect were funneled down into an endless inner chant of,
Don’t get hard. Don’t get hard. For the love of Christ, don’t get hard
.

“Lemme go,” he managed.

“No,” Brennan replied firmly and obliviously. “Give me a second to explain.”

“Brennan, let me go,” Evan repeated, swallowing a groan as Brennan shifted to get a better hold on him, the move causing him to grind down against Evan in what would otherwise have been a really fantastic way, if not for the whole, unfortunate ‘brother’ thing.

“Do you really think it’s not irrational to give a gun to someone who could be suicidal or sometimes feels like he wants to hurt himself? Do you
really
think I might not take issue with that? I put it in a safe place, okay. It’s not gone; it’s just not
here
anymore. And I’m sorry for not trusting you and not talking to you first, but I did what I did, and I’m not changing my mind.”

Very slowly, Evan’s face and neck started to flush pink. He could feel it happening. Gnawing at the inside of his cheek, he tried to think of something gross, or get angry again, but it didn’t work. Just worrying about getting hard with Brennan sitting on his lap was enough to get him going.

“You done?” Evan asked quietly.

“What, you’re not even gonna talk to me about this?”

Brennan shifted again when Evan tugged at Brennan’s unyielding hold on his wrists.

“Could ya stop wriggling like that, please?” Evan blurted out, exasperated at the whole thing.

Then, just when he thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, it did.

Brennan realized why Evan was blushing, why he wouldn’t meet Brennan’s eyes, why he was breathing roughly and trying to free his wrists. Horrified, Evan was helpless as Brennan tested his newfound theory by pressing down slightly harder down on Evan’s pelvis, rolling his hips backward.

Evan tensed bodily, his fists balling up, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose. Yep, Brennan was definitely able to feel it now—the defined, long line of Evan’s erection now fitted perfectly in the crease of Brennan’s backside.

“Oh,” Brennan said stupidly.

At the same time Brennan realized Evan was hard, he was also fully cognizant of the reason he was sitting on Evan in the first place—the gun. That was when Brennan began to get a little scared. He wondered,
What if Evan feels guilty about this? What if it sets him off and makes him want to do something horrible as penance?

Brennan had always instinctively used sex to deal with stress and forget about his troubles—screwing around, seeking out and keeping around a ‘boyfriend’ who was convenient to fuck when life went rotten. Physical pleasure helped banish mental or emotional anguish. Relying on that had become a habit for him, and Evan was a relatively new presence in Brennan’s life. He simply didn’t
feel
like family, at all. He was just Evan. And Brennan loved Evan.

“Bren, let me
go
!” Evan cried, his voice breaking with the force of desperation.

But if he let Evan go, Brennan knew Evan would only take off and it would all get a hell of lot worse than a chance boner.

So, Brennan tightened his grasp, squeezing the bones of Evan’s wrists.

“No.”

Not able to make sense of the response, seeming purely ashamed, Evan half-whined, half-growled in reply. Brennan felt Evan’s torment mixing with his own fear of allowing Evan to slip away. Evan couldn’t be allowed to slip away. Brennan just had to hold on to him tighter, try harder to make Evan understand how much he meant to Brennan. No one else had tried to hold on to Evan like Brennan was holding him, and no one was as good as Brennan at keeping a loved one close, loving them through a tough time, come what may. Just like with their mother, it was a matter of life and death. Brennan had one chance to reach Evan somehow and let him know he was wanted, that Brennan wouldn’t judge him or let him slip away like Maggie had, for any reason. Depression or cancer, they were both diseases ripping people out of Brennan’s life, giving him no say in who stayed and who went. He would do whatever necessary to stop it. Evan was the embodiment of Brennan’s hope that life could be better for both of them, and together conquer everything holding them back. All they’d ever needed was each other. Now they had the chance to reclaim everything previously lost. Anything was possible, if only Brennan could find a way to demonstrate to Evan how very much he was cherished and needed.

Brennan leaned down. Their foreheads touched together. “Hey, calm down. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You’re human. It’s a normal bodily reaction, not a choice.” Tilting his head slightly to the side, angling his mouth closer to Evan’s, centimeter by centimeter like he was moving in slow motion, Brennan told Evan matter-of-factly, “
This
is a choice.”

Evan didn’t try to pull back, not that he could if he’d wanted to, but he did go perfectly still as if he was afraid of provoking a wild animal with any sudden movements. The swell of Brennan’s bottom lip brushed over Evan’s bottom lip. It felt nice, more easy and comfortable than Brennan suspected it would. Brennan breathed softly into Evan’s mouth, feeling the heat of him, the softness of his skin, tasting each quickened breath that slipped through Evan’s lips. It wasn’t brotherly at all, like their last kiss.

“What’re you doing,” Evan managed to mutter against Brennan’s lips without moving his much, if at all.

There was no instinct to pull away. If anything, he became more determined that he was making progress in the right direction—calming Evan down, showing him he could relax and trust. Brennan’s eyes slipped closed and he went for it, placing a gentle but deliberate kiss full on Evan’s mouth. But he didn’t stop. As goosebumps pebbled his skin, Brennan kept on kissing Evan, peppering his full lips with feather-light touches of his own. He slowly felt out the shape and flavor of Evan’s mouth, and was able to gradually relax into the connection.

After the first few seconds, Evan started to kiss Brennan back a little. Brennan wasn’t holding Evan’s arms down anymore, but Evan seemed to be oblivious to the fact, even when Brennan wrapped his arms loosely around Evan’s head, and idly twisted some of the tousled strands at the top of Evan’s head between his fingers. Neither of them used their tongues, or moved against or touched the other’s body. It stayed relatively innocent, technically. But it didn’t feel innocent at all.

Brennan wasn’t sure how long it went on, how many minutes exactly. When they’d stopped and Brennan was still fingering tenderly through Evan’s short hair, looking affectionately down at him while Evan stared up into Brennan’s eyes, his lips were tingling and hot.

It took about four different tries before Evan was able to come out with his very simple question. “Why?”

“Had to make a point,” Brennan replied.

“...And that would be?”

“This isn’t just about you, or something you did, or something you wanted to do. I’m involved, too.”

“Whatever. You’re still not getting off of me.”

Brennan nervously bit at his bottom lip. “I don’t want you to do something stupid.”

“Bren, I do a lot of stupid shit. Sorry. It’s kind of unavoidable.”

“It didn’t feel wrong to me,” Brennan whispered, glancing between Evan’s eyes and his mouth.

Evan closed his eyes. His face creased with pain. Brennan tried to soothe the delicate frown lines away with more of those tickling, light kisses—along the corners of his eyes, between his eyebrows, at the edges of his mouth. Sighing, Evan gave up the fight and circled Brennan’s back in a loose embrace, holding Brennan flush to his chest.

About ten minutes later, when they still hadn’t moved, Evan asked into the silence of the room, “So, can I have my gun back?”

“No,” Brennan grunted into Evan’s shoulder. “I also kind of hid those big butcher knives and flushed all the pills in the medicine cabinet, so if you have a headache or something, you’re kind of shit out of luck.”

“Brennan!” Evan scolded.

“Mm.”

“You’re fuckin’ crazy.”

“Probably.”

“So, why does Luka keep sleeping over? You two screwing like bunnies or something?”

Brennan groaned. “No. He thinks if we have sex it’s like he’s taking advantage of me in my time of grief, so he keeps turning me down. We’ve just been sleeping. I think he has insomnia issues and likes the company.”

“Huh. It all makes sense now.”

“What?”

“Why you’re so hard up you’re kissing
me
.”

Brennan sat up, squinting down at him. “Excuse me,
who’s
hard up?”

“Date night?” Carter asked. It was Friday evening. He was seated at his kitchen table along with Luka, Alek, and Presley. They’d all been eating pizza in awkward silence and staring impatiently at the clock on the wall.

“Yeah,” Alek grunted, distractedly.

“’Bout damn time. You two have been zombies the last few days. Maybe getting laid will help jump-start your brains. I think it’s great you both found someone. You’re moving in a healthier direction.”

Luka and Alek exchanged a glance and wordlessly went back to eating.

Alek had been missing Evan desperately. The instinctive need to constantly make sure Evan was okay hadn’t eased up at all. Just as Alek initially feared, the more he grew to care for Evan, the more intense his feelings became and the harder it was to be apart from him. They’d gotten into a habit of leaving each other messages, though. Evan started it, leaving a voicemail for Alek while Alek was at work at the bar Monday night. By the time Alek got it, it was very late and Alek’s return call to Evan went right to voicemail, so he had left a message of his own, just to say hi and that he was thinking about him.

But that night, Alek had off from work. He’d been looking forward to having another real date all week long, and he knew just how he wanted to spend it.

That morning, Alek spoke with Evan over the phone as he walked to work, asking if Evan had anything particular in mind he wanted to do.

“Yeah. I want you. I wanna be with you tonight,” Evan had told him. It was spoken quietly, like Evan was afraid of being overheard, and that sexy shyness was detectable in his voice, too. “No one else, okay? Nowhere public. Just me and you.”

“When can I see you? How soon?”

“I get off at six. Gimme an hour to get ready, then you can pick me up. You can eat dinner before if you want, so we don’t waste any time. Brennan and your brother are staying here at the house for their date, so I thought maybe we could go out?”

“Oh, yeah, Luka’s really looking forward to that,” Alek grinned. “No problem. I’ll take you somewhere more private if you prefer.”

“Thanks.”

It all sounded pretty cut and dried. Alek loaded the back of his truck with an inflatable camping mattress and blankets, his plan perfectly formulated.