Eight
Jace
If I could go back in time and retract my words, I would. I’d acted out of anger and confusion. Was I jealous? I never liked any of the guys he pursued while in school but this feeling is different, comparable to a thousand knots squeezing around my heart. Would he take my advice? It was what he’d told me once, and that was the first thing that popped into my head right after he said maybe to my suggestion while holding eye contact with me.
Was he trying to get a rise out of me or was he simply sending me a message? Either way, my blood feels like it’s on fucking fire every time I think about where he is. With Mike . . . or Matt . . . whatever that asshole’s name is. He’s probably the better choice though. No one will ever be good enough for him in my eyes, but they’d all be more ideal than me. They could give him normal, not only sometimes but all the time. They wouldn’t have to try so hard either.
I toss the trash out, taking a deep breath before walking back inside the orange-brick building. Walking without paying attention to where I’m going almost leads to me knocking a tray out of someone’s hand, and even after I apologize she glares at me, shaking her head.
I need to stop thinking about Nate and that other guy, but no matter how much I try to keep myself busy with work, I can’t seem to shift focus. Maybe it wouldn’t bother me as much if he wasn’t also avoiding me and pretending to be too tired to watch movies with me or play card games. Why would he do this? Why give me so many good things, only to take them away.
My nightmares are worse too, replacing the dreams of him kissing me—I’ve put the idea of that happening again far from my mind after so many days since it last happened. I’m more restless than usual, feeling the rules I break rip at my skin even harder, and I listened to my music loudly in my room this morning to drown out my thoughts. It would have disrupted the whole house—disturbed our guests in the basement—except we don’t have any guests.
I close my eyes and open them again, slamming my palm to my forehead before rushing to the break room. There’s no basement either, because my parents had it blocked off after the last time I fell down the stairs while I was sleep walking. I woke in a straight panic, kicking and screaming before balling up in the corner, crying. I didn’t speak for a week after that, and slept with furniture stacked against the door.
Opening the fridge, the can of Coke I popped the tab on when I first arrived at work mocks me. I’d never been allowed to have it before, so I’ve slowly been letting myself believe it’s okay. Then that strong taste hits the back of my tongue, my brain lighting up like an alarm bell, and all I feel is shame. I went behind my dad’s back again.
“Why can’t you ever do anything right? Following simple rules shouldn’t be so hard. You’re despicable. A sorry excuse for a son.”
His words claw their way inside me, remaining there until I’m back home and able to go to the bathroom and reach for the nail file again. Only, it’s not where I last left it so I rush to my mom’s bedroom, looking for anything sharp I can find. My eyes light up when I find her sewing kit under the bed. I quickly grab one of the needles, my dad’s voice getting louder and ringing in my ears until I finally slide the sharp point along my upper pec. I press and drag until my dad’s scolding disappears and his ghost is no longer looming over me.
My eyes squeeze shut and I drop the needle to the ground, tears building in the corners of my eyes. I’m crying from being haunted, not the pain—I barely feel that anymore. I just keep needing more in order for my head to go quiet again. The slamming of the front door has me freezing in panic, and once I can move again I pocket the needle and put everything back how I found it, cleaning up the mess I made before slowly peeking out into the hall.
Nate is humming, grabbing something from the fridge and heading to his room with two small bags on his arm. He doesn’t notice me because I don’t come out until his door is shut. I hover outside it for a long time with my knuckles unable to come in full contact with the wood. My heart feels like it wants to escape my chest every time I try to knock and I finally give up, walking to my room.
As I’m tucking the needle under my mattress, I hear a loud whimper, followed by what sounds like a scream. Not wasting another minute or letting my pounding heart stop me this time, I rush into the hallway and push open his door. His gaze lands on me, his hand freezing under his covers, and I swear I go into some type of paralyzed state when I see what’s on the TV.
Two men are on top of each other, one rubbing his cock over the other’s, both dripping and straining. My breaths stutter and he swallows hard, throat bobbing.
“I thought you were hurting or . . . shit, I’m sorry for barging in. I heard a scream and . . .” I scrub a hand over my face, my words catching in my throat.
His jaw twitches and a blush spreads from his face down to his neck. “I . . . sorry. It was, uh . . . the TV. I’m okay. I didn’t realize anyone was home.”
“What are you watching?” I look from him back to the two ravenous men on the screen going at it like fucking rabbits, one flipping the other onto his back and shoving his cock in him in one thrust. I’ve been curious before too, browsing porn on the internet, though it never did much for me, but something about catching him watching it has heat rushing to my groin.
“I think it’s obvious,” he muses, resting his hand above the blanket.
“You often wait for everyone to leave to watch porn alone?”
His lips twitch, chest rising and falling heavily. “No . . . I mean sometimes, but not like every time.”
“Can I watch with you?” I point to the empty spot on his bed and his mouth opens before closing again.
He looks at the screen again and nods. “Yeah, okay.”
I ease forward and his eyes stay on me the whole time as I slide under the covers. I don’t have to look down to know he’s naked. His shorts and shirt are discarded on the floor beside him, the bare skin of his hip brushing over my hand as he shifts in bed.
“Jace.” His voice rises to a higher octave.
“Shh. I’m trying to watch.” I look ahead, sliding my hand under the blanket to rest it on his thigh. His whole body shakes and he releases a drawn-out breath.
“Is this what you wanted to do with that guy today?” I ask, moving my fingers closer to his inner thigh, and he shudders.
“No.”
“You clearly want to do it with someone. When you imagine yourself as one of the guys on the screen, who’s the other one? Who’s touching you and making your thighs shake?”
“Jace . . . I . . . this is crazy.’
“Answer the question, baby brother.” I brush the tip of my pinky over his cock head, sparks dancing between us. His eyes fall back in his head, his lithe body arching.
“You,” he says almost too quietly.
“I can’t hear you.” My lips press to his ear and I blow along the skin of his neck.
“You, Jace. It’s you I see. It’s always you.”
I wrap my fingers around his cock, loving the feel of his skin against mine, and stroke him slowly. He jerks forward, moaning softly. “You don’t have to pretend today. I’m right here.”
I don’t know what’s come over me but I really have become one of the men in the video, taking charge and making the first move. Unable to resist the way his body responds to me, I continue driving him crazy with my hand, palming his cock fast. Kicking his feet forward, he reaches for my shirt and I tug him away, not wanting him to see the evidence of what I just did.
I don’t care what anyone else thinks of me, or how they see me, but I’d rather hide my worst sides from him for as long as I can. “You’re so perfect, you know that? From the inside out.”
“Can I touch you too?” he asks.
“This is about making you feel good, not me. You’re the one who needs this right now.” And I need you, I want to say, but I lock the words in my throat, not ready to be so vulnerable and honest. Not ready to put everything out there only to not have the sentiment returned.
“Touching you would make me feel good too.” His face flushes and he pants, thrusting into my hand, chasing everything I’m offering him.
“Next time, okay?”
“Okay.” He doesn’t push me or look back at the TV. We keep our eyes on each other and he grabs onto my face, shoving his tongue in my mouth and lazily dragging it over mine. His desperate sounds vibrate over my tongue and mouth, slipping inside me. Every part of him owns me at this moment. His lips. His pleasure. Especially those fingers tugging at my hair as he shakes from his orgasm.
His mouth stills against mine, warm breath brushing my lips as he presses his head to mine. Laughter spills from him and he kisses me again. This time it’s slow and lazy, his nose gently rolling over mine as his hand falls down to my chest, fingers clinging to the fabric of my shirt. “We shouldn’t have done this.”
“Do you wish we could take it back?” I run my fingers through his hair, slowly releasing his softening cock.
He shakes his head. “No. Not for one second. Do you?”
I trace the seam of his swollen lips with my thumb. “Not for one second. I feel like I was always meant to be pulled to you in this way and I’m tired of fighting it.”
“Does this mean you think I’m cute then?” His eyes crinkle in humor, lips stretching into a grin.
“Yup, and that’s why I went for it.”
We both laugh, laying in bed for a little longer, turning off the movie and kissing some more. As soon as we hear the honking sound from my mom locking her car doors we break apart, and Nate grabs his clothes from the floor, running to our shared bathroom.
“Boys? You home?” My mom shouts from the living room.
I rush past Nate, smiling as he wipes the cum from his stomach, and make my way to my room. Straightening out my clothes, I open my door and stick out my head. “Yeah. We’re in our rooms. Nate’s showering, I think.”
“Have y’all eaten anything?”
“Not yet, why?”
“How about we order some pizza then?” A smile plays on her lips.
“Sounds good to me. I’m sure Nate’s hungry too. Is Dad going to be home soon?”
“Yeah. He said he’s an hour away. “Have y’all changed your minds about joining us at your aunt’s new lake house this weekend, or do y’all still plan to stay home?”
I didn’t know Nate had opted to stay home. Neither of us ever cared for Aunt Tracey and her spoiled-rotten kids, and don’t get me started on her spineless husband. “I still plan to stay here if that’s okay. You know she doesn’t really want me there.”
“And she knows you’re our son and a part of this family as much as the rest of us. Besides, she promised to behave herself, and you boys will be too busy swimming. You’ll barely be inside the house long enough to notice any of us.”
“It’s okay, Mom. Really. I have plans to catch a local band playing downtown this Saturday.”
“Okay. I know you boys can be trusted to be here alone for a whole weekend. Y’all are grown-ups after all.”
“Don’t worry, there won’t be any parties, and we promise not to burn the place down.” There might be more of me barging into my brother’s room when I hear him moan again, though. He keeps finding new ways to lure me in. To make me run to him.
She laughs, plucking her phone from her purse. “I was just really hoping we could get away as a family.”
“Next time. Whenever it’s not at Aunt Tracey’s house.”
Chuckling, she shakes her head. “I’ll tell your dad we’ll have to plan a trip to the beach or something.”
My heart lights up. The beach is still something I’ve yet to cross off my to-do list. I remember being so obsessed with movies that took place on the water, and my dad shutting them off when he felt they distracted me too much from my duties. “I won’t say no to the beach.”
“Good. Now go back to doing whatever you were doing and I’ll order the pizza.”
Just as she presses the phone to her ear, I disappear into my room and Nate exits the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. “What’s for dinner?” He leans against the frame, eyes glazed over.
“Pizza.”
“And breadsticks?” He perks up.
“I guess we’ll see. She should know to include them by now, though.”
Nate spurts out a laugh, inching closer to me. “After dinner, you wanna watch another movie with me?” He reaches for my hand and my heart flutters.
“Are movie nights permanently reinstated from here on out?”
He smirks. “Yeah. I think they are.”
“Does this mean no more dates with Matty?”
“It’s Michael, and it was never a date.”
“What’s even happening with us?” My voice wavers as his front presses to mine, his cock already growing hard again, his lips brushing over my chin.
“Looks like we’re going for it.”