Part 4

There was something strange about my room. Something wholly familiar and yet disturbingly different at the same time.

My bedroom seemed as if it had been frozen in time. Not one item out of place, and yet, not one speck of dust to be found around the entire room. I told Simon to drop the bags on the floor and let the bag that I was carrying fall next to the others. The window was cracked open a few inches to let in some air; not that the room really needed it. Simon had done a wonderful job keeping the room immaculate. “Close the door,” I commanded, moving toward the window to slide it closed. The sounds of the chirping birds outside my window were annoying the crap out of me. All I wanted to hear right then were the voices of myself and my twin.

Simon, as always, did precisely as he was told, watching me with those large (and slightly creepy) hazel eyes of his. As I slowly looked around the room, Simon (apparently thinking it necessary to bring life to the situation) hopped onto my bed and giggled lightly at the sound of the worn mattress springs. It reminded me of the sounds that used to fill up my room whenever I snuck boys into my bedroom and fucked them for hours. Although I never asked him about it, I was pretty sure that Simon used to listen on the other side of the wall. He was always disturbingly curious like that.

“What have you been up to, kiddo? Anything interesting happen while I was gone? Get any awards? Get arrested? Still a virgin?” The last question was purred with a sarcastic grin, a playful eye. I could feel Simon’s blush coming on before I could see it. Simon fidgeted on the bed, turned his smooth face away and the back toward me. I had always been amazingly skilled at making Simon feel uncomfortable and shy. Funny thing is, I never had to try all that hard.

“No awards,” Simon whispered softly, lowering his eyelids and letting his thick lashes brush against his cheek. His fingers traced along the boring blanket on my bed, an irresistibly comfy but utterly plain down comforter. Then again, weren’t most down comforters plain? I have to admit though, I missed that blanket tons while I was away. I’m a bitch for down. “No arrests,” Simon continued, “not even a traffic ticket.” Oh, that’s right. Simon had his license now. He had gotten it after I had left. I could see him flicking up his eyes momentarily to see the clenching of my jaw. It had always been our way to have me do everything first. It’s how I liked it. I had taken our first drink, I had snorted our first line, I had gotten our first piercing. To have Simon accomplish something before me was unusual and disagreeable. In short, I hated it. Don’t get me wrong, I was often proud of the things that my baby brother did. As long as I had already done them. It was then that I realized that I would have to depend on Simon to get me far away from the house, if something like that were necessary. It made me feel so fucking pathetic.

“And the sex?” I asked, quick and desperate to move onto a subject in which I already reigned supreme over my twin.

Simon shook his head vigorously, allowing thick, loose curls to bounce around his ears. “No. No sex.”

Ah, of course. I felt right again. “Why not? I don’t get it at all, Simon. You do realize you’re my brother, right? You should be a deviant.” A smirk, a chide. A loving glance. Simon’s face was tinged a pretty crimson, and I couldn’t help but think about how adorable my younger brother was.

“I… I d-don’t know,” Simon stammered, chewing nervously on his lower lip. He was probably silently cursing me for bringing this subject up. Already I could tell that nothing about our relationship had changed, and I found it comforting. We both knew that I lived off of Simon’s adoration, and Simon lived off of my abuse. Neither of us minded.

“What, just haven’t found that right lady, yet, little brother? You’re seventeen, you know. As shy as you are, I would have figured you would have lost it a long time ago.”

“I’m not you, Sammy. I didn’t decide that it was a good idea to stick my dick into the first hole presented to me when I was thirteen.” Simon was already getting annoyed with this conversation. His voice was laced with a not-so-subtle ounce of venom, meant to sting, meant to hurt.

It didn’t hurt. I let the snideness go. I wasn’t in the mood to fight, and I knew Simon was always tetchy no matter what the situation. Time for a bit of damage control before Simon started to pout.

“I know you’re not me. But you’re gorgeous like me. You should be getting something by now, that’s all I’m saying.” I smiled at my twin on the bed, a gentle smile that I reserved for Simon and Simon alone. “Hey, you want to see something?”

Simon pursed his lips and lifted an eyebrow, glancing suspiciously at me. “Is it a secret?” He loved it when I shared secrets with him.

“Yes, it’s a secret. I want to show you.” I moved forward, crawling on to the bed and kneeling before Simon. With a sly smirk that was nothing less than addicting to the average onlooker, I shed my crimson blazer, letting it fall lackadaisically to the floor. The smooth tie around my throat was loosened and discarded, and the crisp oxford button up was pulled from the confines of my belt. Simon watched with rapt eyes as I quickly disrobed, wondering what could possibly be hidden from the outside world with layers of clothing that only Simon was allowed to see past. Of course, Simon was not the first one to see what I had hidden beneath my shirt, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

One button, two buttons, three buttons, four. Each one until they all were undone and I could pull my shirt apart. I had not worn an undershirt that day for this precise reason. I wanted to show Simon. “What do you think?”

Simon flushed as if embarrassed, but a huge grin spread across his face, revealing his true feelings. His fingers reached out to graze my skin, caress the shiny metal rings. “When did you get these?”

“A few months ago. You like them.” It wasn’t a question.

Simon nodded, continuing to finger the rings in my nipples. To anyone else it would have been such an odd scene. One that should take place between lovers, or perhaps extremely close friends. Not something that should occur between siblings, let alone brothers. But to deny Simon the chance to understand what he saw, to learn through feeling, would be akin to slapping the boy in the face. And while I usually enjoyed such sadism, I wanted this night to start off on a relatively good note.

I remember when we were little, how Simon had always had to touch everything. Mom would be so pissed each time she had to pull something out of the little boy’s mouth, even when we were far past teething age. While I was content in watching and observing my surroundings from afar, Simon had to delve into the depths of the unknown, reaching out with open hands and closed eyes. I had always admired my little brother’s curiosity, and therefore encouraged it whenever I could. If Simon needed to feel me to understand what I had done to my body, that was all right. I did not mind.

Besides, I had missed the feel of my brother’s fingers on my flesh.

“If Dad ever saw these, he would flip,” Simon giggled, finally pulling his fingers away and leaning back from me.

“That’s why Dad’s never going to see them, dumb ass. And you’re a good boy, so I know that you won’t tell him.”

There was a slight pause, a tiny lull in the conversation. I frowned and reached out, pulling gently on one of Simon’s curls. My own had been shaved off the moment I reached Holy Trinity. It was fine. The curls looked better on the cherubic Simon, anyway. He had always been the angel. “Is Josh around?”

Simon turned away. Josh was the reason why I had been sent to Holy Trinity in the first place. “I don’t know. I guess. Why do you need to see him?”

“‘Cause, you and me? We’re gonna party tonight. And Josh is the perfect boy to call when you want a good time.”