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Title: My Brother's Keeper Author: Anon Pairing: NB/KD Rating: NC-17 for incest For years, Nick bought all of Kelly's platitudes, lock, stock and barrel. "It's just us... doesn't matter." "If you think about it, it's almost like masturbating." "What better way to find out what you like and what you don't than with me? It's... simpler this way... no big deal." He believed everything Kelly told him, always had. Didn't know it was all bullshit till the morning he woke up to find Kelly drunk in his living room. --- "Kel?" he asks carefully. His brother's not a good drunk at the best of times, and 9 o'clock in the morning - even if it is Saturday - is pretty bad, no matter how you slice it. "Kelly, what's the matter?" Kelly looks up and just stares at Nick, his eyes hard and sharp. Nick can't help it; he flinches. He's seen that look on his brother's face before, always aimed at someone who's managed to piss him off royally, usually someone who's made the mistake of picking on Nick. He's never been the focus of it before. Not even that time when he'd only meant to reassure Kelly's girlfriend that Kelly really did like her, and somehow his words got all tangled up and he ended up telling her about Kelly's other girlfriend instead. Even then, Kelly only laughed it off, said it was getting too expensive, taking two girls out all the time. That he should be thanking Nick for the mix-up, and not to worry about it. He can't imagine what he's done to make Kelly look at him that way. Isn't sure he wants to know. But he asks, because that's what they do for each other. Always there, always helping each other out, always... well, usually Nick is the first one to know there's a problem, but he's a grown man. He can deal. "So," he says, then falls silent because he doesn't really know how to ask Kelly why he's being... scary. The silence is long and drawn out, and Nick chews his lip nervously for a moment, Kelly's unblinking, silent antagonism working his nerves. "You gonna tell me what this is all about, or am I reduced to playing some fucked-up version of Twenty... twenty..." Deep breath, slow down. Not stuttering. Not really, not yet, but he's so worked up it's not far-off, either. "Twenty Questions?" The brittle in Kelly's eyes crumbles at the catch in Nick's words, and he slumps as if his bones went with it. He rubs one hand across his eyes and stands up. Too carefully, in the manner of the drunker-than-they-think-they-are. "Just... uh -" He almost trips over a throw pillow on the floor. "Never mind." "Kelly -" Nick starts. "No." Kelly shakes his head carefully, not wanting to upset whatever delicate balance he's found that's keeping him upright, makes his way to the door. "Leave it, all right? I didn't mean to upset you." Nick grabs at Kelly's arm as he stumbles past, missing like he's the drunk one. "Don't do that, man. I hate when you do that." Kelly stops, breathing loudly, with exaggerated slowness. Almost carefully. He doesn't turn around, just stands there, head bowed, studying his feet. Waiting for something, maybe. Nick's not sure, and that's a weird place for him to be, not sure of his own brother. Hasn't happened in a long time, this kind of uncertainty. Not since before the last time they... Nick shakes his head hard. He doesn't let himself think about that anymore. He moves closer to Kelly, staying behind him, respecting whatever weirdness it is that's swinging Kelly from dirty looks to not wanting to look at him at all. Takes a couple of deep breaths. Keep it slow. "See? Calm. We're good. I just want to know what's going on." Nick spends a few minutes watching his breath ruffle the fine hairs on the back of Kelly's neck, waiting for him to answer. Kelly almost-laughs, once, and shakes his head, still looking at his feet. Mutters something. "What?" Nick tilts his head in question, leans closer. "Can't hear you." "I said, 'No. You *don't* want to know'." "Oh, right. Because you show up drunk and pissed-off, and I what? Just don't give a shit?" There's a hard little ball in Nick's chest. He's not sure if it's anger or pain. Maybe both. Being angry with Kelly always hurts in ways he's never had words for. "That's bullshit and you know it." "No." Kelly spins around and oh, whoa, there he is, right up in Nick's face. Close like he hasn't been in too long. Not long enough. Nick jerks back reflexively, which earns another almost-laugh from Kelly, only this one sounds bitter. "It's not bullshit, Nicky. It's the fucking -" and here Kelly stops to snort at a joke that clearly, he is the only one to understand. "It's the fucking truth. You know. You just like to pretend you don't." Nick's protest is swallowed - literally - when Kelly grabs him by the shoulders, pulls him close, and kisses him. It's hot, wet and messy. Different. They've both filled out, and Kelly's chin against his own isn't as sharp as it used to be. His hands, one tangled in the hair at the top of Nick's neck, the other cupped along his jawline, are bigger. They're callused in places Nick's skin doesn't recognize, which makes Nick ache and tingle at the same time. For just a moment, Nick lets himself be pulled back to that place where Kelly knew all the answers to all the questions Nick never even thought to ask. Gives himself over to the feel of Kelly's fingers in his hair, Kelly's tongue on the roof of his mouth, Kelly's body, hard and warm and familiar under his hands. Temptation always tastes so damn good. Kelly always tastes that much better. Finally, he pulls back, gasping. His eyes are closed - for once, Nick doesn't want to see his emotions reflected in his brother's eyes. He feels Kelly pull away and opens his eyes, stares at his feet. At Kelly's feet, backing away. From him. He feels the distance between them solidly, like it's an actual brick wall. A wall he put there, one he's building with everything he doesn't say. "Now." Kelly's voice is broken and thick. He coughs. "Now stand there and try to tell me you don't fucking know." And Nick doesn't want to, but he can't *not* look at Kelly then, and he knows they're not so much mirror images of each other right now as they are flip sides of the same coin. Pain, anger, trust, betrayal, love and hate. Lust. He closes his eyes again when the reflection becomes too much. "I - I can't, Kel. It's... it's not -" "Shut up," Kelly grinds out, already halfway to the door. "Kelly, come on... you can't be serious." Kelly stops and turns to look at him - one last time, Nick can't help but think, even though he knows there's no way, no fucking way Kelly would ever disappear on him. Right? He goes cold all over, and the solidness in his chest shatters. "Just... don't, OK? Don't - don't go. We'll..." The phone rings, but he ignores it, afraid now to take his eyes off of Kelly for even a second. "I don't know what, but I... I don't... not... not like this." He stops, needs to breathe, needs to think, can't keep track of everything that's going on here. The answering machine picks up. Kelly's still standing by the door, and Nick feels a little flare of hope. Tressa's voice comes over the machine, and Nick's stomach twists at the ugly look Kelly throws at the phone. "Kel -" Pleading now. This can't be happening, this fucked-up Jerry Springer excuse for a conversation. Can't. He doesn't know what to do, what to say. Kelly takes the decision out of his hands. "Go," he says, even though he's the one going, the one walking out the door. "Go talk to your girlfriend, Nicky." For once, Nick doesn't do what Kelly tells him. Just stands for a long time, head against the door, after the sound of Kelly's car is gone. --- Kelly wakes up an indeterminate number of hours - days? - and bottles of beer later, to the sight of his brother leaning over him, looking worried. "Hey," Kelly smiles, half-drunk, half-asleep, forgetful. The lines between Nick's eyebrows smooth out a little, and a corner of his mouth twitches, like he wants to smile back but can't quite manage it. "Hey," he answers, but it's obvious something's bugging him, and Kelly frowns a frown of his own, trying to figure it out. It all comes back then, an alcohol-colored wave of memories crashing over his head, and he feels his gut clench. The remembering must show in his face, because when he moves to sit up, Nick jerks back like he thinks Kelly's about to take a swing at him. As if he would. He slumps down against the back of the couch and closes his eyes, wondering how they got here, to this place where Nick, of all people, is... afraid of him. Kelly sighs. He's the one bleeding inside, but Nicky's afraid of *him*. He feels the now-familiar burning in his stomach begin, the one that'd moved in the day he realized he'd been too slow. Taken too many years to think, to try and work out how to convince Nick that things should go back to the way they used to be, too long ago, and he'd lost any chance he'd ever have, to Tressa. The one girl who'd managed to make Nick be serious, think seriously about things. Big things, like house-buying. Marriage. Babies. She's perfect for Nick, really, and because of it Kelly hates her like he's never hated anybody. But he tries, for Nick's sake. He's polite and friendly, and if he's not as close to his twin's girlfriend as he could be, it's all right, because Nick's so wrapped up in her that he doesn't notice. So Kelly swallows it all, his love and his hate and the gut-wrenching pain that comes from knowing that he's never going to get the one thing he's always wanted the most. Because Nick is happy in a big way now, and Kelly's determined to let that be enough for him. Except that it's not and never will be, no matter how hard he tries. Kelly knows it. Nick knows it too, but Kelly's tried to honor his brother's unwillingness to acknowledge it. Was mostly successful, until one too many cases of mistaken "Congratulations on your engagement" conversations led to a couple of six-packs too many last night. Kelly hears the coffee table creak as Nick sits down across from him. "Kelly... we need to talk, I think." His voice is hesitant, too quiet. Afraid. Afraid. Kelly wants to throw up. He takes a deep breath and lets his head fall forward until his chin hits his chest. "Nick... Respect the hangover, okay? Go home." He waves one hand vaguely in the direction of Nick's voice without opening his eyes. "We'll... we can..." Another breath. "Later." Never. Please. Nick knows him too well to buy it, though. "Yeah, right," he says, though not harshly. "When?" Kelly doesn't answer, and Nick moves. The table protests - it's just a cheap thing, bought in a rush after he fucked some guy whose name he'll never remember through the last one, and isn't really built to hold a grown man who can't sit still. "When, Kel?" he repeats. The hand on Kelly's knee softens the challenge of Nick's words, but Kelly feels the heat like a brand through his jeans and pulls his leg away. He can hear Nick swallow, lick his lips. "Another what... nine years?" Kelly's eyes fly open at that, almost of their own accord. They've never talked about it, not once, not even to apologize to each other for the things that went flying that day, words and fists, books and small pieces of furniture. By unspoken agreement, they kept their respective silences and let time soften and fix what they didn't know how to. "Nicky... don't." He's not above begging. Doesn't need to hear it all laid out for him in black and white again; all the ways all the things he wants are wrong. Bad. Impossible, which is the only one he really gives a damn about. Figures he's as damned for wanting it as he would be for doing it, so he stopped giving a shit about the morals of the thing a long time ago, except for Nick's sake. Nick is pale and he looks like he wants to throw up, too. But he's got *that* expression on his face, the one Kelly knows means he's decided the only thing to do is to brave his way through this conversation. Finally, whether Kelly likes it or not. Wants it or not. It's that thought that shakes Kelly loose of his hangover, burns a little alertness into his brain. More than a little anger. "Where do you get off, man? Where the *fuck* do you get off, deciding that now? No *way* do you get to decide that, uni-fucking-laterally." Kelly shakes his head. "Not when I kept my mouth shut for almost a decade, just because you didn't want to hear it. No fucking way." Ducking his head, Nick has the grace to look abashed. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, lifts his head and meets Kelly's eyes again. "I know," he says, his face so full of honesty and apology that Kelly feels like he's seeing something he shouldn't; he wants to look away but doesn't. Can't. "I know," Nick repeats hoarsely. He reaches up, dry-scrubbing his face with one hand before continuing. "You were right." He swallows again. "I always knew." Nick's almost whispering now, but to Kelly it feels like he's shouting, the words slicing through him, ragged, edgy wounds left in their wake, leaving Kelly bloodless and gasping. "Jesus. Nick. Please. Just -" "Kelly -" "Can't you just fucking *leave* it, already? What's there to say?" Kelly swallows hard, tries to keep a grip on himself. Get a grip, period. He's too exhausted for this, emotionally, physically. Binge drinking and too little sleep have left him in no condition to deal with a conversation he never thought he'd have and doesn't want, not anymore. He leans back against the couch and closes his eyes again. "I know how you feel." His voice is dull, colorless. "I get it, okay? I know how you feel; you know how I..." He stops, unable to say it. Not after so many years of keeping it to himself. "There's no point," he mutters. "We both know it, so let's just not, all right?" Nick coughs and Kelly groans silently, recognizing it for the signal that it is. Confession time. "See, that's the thing," Nick starts. He pauses, obviously working up his nerve. Kelly wishes he'd just go home. "I didn't. Know, that is." Kelly opens one eye and stares at him disbelievingly, the "You just said..." not needing to be said. Nick almost manages not to roll his eyes. "Not that." He exhales forcefully, and Kelly wonders how much longer it'll be before his brother starts pacing. "Not that. Just..." He stands up, and if Kelly didn't feel so wrung out, he'd grin at the predictability of his twin. He lets his eye slide closed again, not wanting to see Nick struggle with what he's trying to say. Listening to it is bad enough. "I knew," Nick repeats for the however-many-th time. Kelly stays silent, but a voice inside his head has taken up the chant: Just shut up and go. Fucking go. Please. "I knew what you... w-what you... wanted." Kelly can tell Nick's looking at him, can tell he's close. Too close. Kelly drapes his arm over his face, hiding, trying to protect the little dignity he doesn't have left. Deep sigh. "I just... I didn't know how you *felt*." There's a pause, and the chanting in Kelly's head gets louder until he thinks he's going to have to scream to drown it out. "Swear to god, I had no idea, Kel." The tiny thread of control that was Kelly's lifeline snaps when Nick lays his hand on Kelly's head, runs his fingers through Kelly's hair. Like he's got a right to. It's something he used to do, something Kelly used to love. A long time ago, it was a comfort. Kelly can't stand it. "Get out," he growls. Nick inhales sharply, yanks his hand back like he's been bitten. "Get. Out," Kelly repeats. Chokes it out around the huge, harsh lump of pissed-off in his throat. "Get the fuck out of my house." He stops, trying to calm his harsh breathing. Different day, different conversation, same result: one brother leaves, closing the door behind him so carefully that the other one knows that all he wants to do is slam it. This time, though, Kelly's the one left behind, listening to the sounds of leaving and trying not to cry. --- It's late - or early, depending on your perspective, and Nick is awake, which is bad no matter how you look at it. He's also alone, Tressa having gone off to her parents' ranch for a family get-together, Nick unable to join them due to various commitments planned weeks ago. He was sorry when he said good-bye to her this morning before heading over to check on Kelly, but now he's nothing but thankful for her absence. He's not sure he'd have the presence of mind right now to lie to her about what's going on, but he sure as hell couldn't tell her the truth. "No, honey, I'm fine. I'm just a little out of it because Kelly's in love with me and I realized that I really miss fucking his brains out. Everything's just peachy." Yeah, right. That'd go over well: all over the fucking front page of The National Enquirer. Definitely better that she's gone. He'd claimed to be surprised, but he shouldn't have been. It's so obvious, now that Nick is actually thinking about it, and he sighs, disgusted with himself. If he'd bothered to look, wanted to know, wanted to admit that he *already* knew, he'd have seen it. *** Their parents have only been gone four hours, and already the living room looks like some kind of El Niño-spawned winter storm hit it, Nick notes idly, coming back from the kitchen where he'd gone in search of more junk food. He says as much to Kelly, who just laughs, surveying the mess. "Yeah, it does. Not bad, considering Christian and Kyle aren't even here." Nick nods in agreement and sits down next to Kelly on the couch, handing him the last of the Oreos and a fresh can of soda. "I'm just glad Mom and Dad decided we didn't have to baby-sit after all. *That* would've sucked," he says, opening his soda and taking a long swig before setting it down on the coffee table. "No shit," Kelly says, giving his own can a dissatisfied look and putting it down. "I can't believe we finished the beer already." "'We'?" Nick mocks. "Who, 'we'? You and the alcoholic mouse in your pocket? Because I had exactly one, man." "Oh, poor baby," Kelly says, mistaking Nick's teasing for complaining. "Just because you drink slower than a little old lady at Communion..." He shrugs and takes a joint out of a small box on the table next to him. Nick watches Kelly light up and shakes his head. "You know what I can't believe? That you're doing that shit in here. They're only gone for a couple days, Kel - we're gonna get our asses kicked when they smell that." "Man, relax." Kelly shifts around, sliding one leg behind Nick's back, pushing at him until he gives in and moves where Kelly wants him to go. They always end up the same way when they're alone: Kelly lying propped up against the arm of the couch; Nick on his back on top of him, Kelly's free arm draped across his chest. "We'll open the windows, spray some air freshener, and sprinkle the whole house with that smelly crap Mom likes before we vacuum." Kelly bends his head and presses a warm kiss against Nick's temple. "Not only won't they smell the pot, we'll score points for having cleaned up." Grudgingly, Nick has to admit that Kelly has a point. A good one, even - the carpet powder their mom buys has a strong enough scent to knock out every competing odor within a four-mile radius. He doesn't say anything, though, just wriggles around until *he's* comfortable, snug between Kelly and the back of the extra-wide couch, his head tucked under Kelly's chin. They lay like that for a while - Kelly smoking quietly, Nick listening to Kelly's heart beat. Content. Finally, "Want some?" Nick doesn't, not really, the contact high being more than enough to satisfy him. But he's mellow and pliable and nods a 'yes' anyway. Truth be told, he'd do it no matter what, hating the hurt that flashes in Kelly's eyes every time Nick doesn't want to do something with him. Nick's not crazy about doing stuff he doesn't want to, but Kelly takes it so personally - like Nick not wanting to get high or to drink himself stupid means Kelly's not good enough for him or something. Not that Kelly would ever say it out loud, but Nick knows it's there, so he goes along, hoping that his actions will one day convince Kelly of everything he acts like he doesn't need to hear. Nick tilts his head up and back and opens his mouth slightly. His stomach tightens and his heart rate picks up, and by the time Kelly places his mouth carefully against Nick's own, Nick's breath is coming in ragged little rasps. The pot he's not so crazy about, but the way he gets it more than makes up for it. Nick inhales as Kelly exhales, and Nick manages to hold it in spite of the gaspy feeling, even when Kelly, the sneak, licks a slow, wet stripe across Nick's bottom lip. He tries to frown, but Kelly looks so satisfied with himself that Nick ends up grinning at him. He lets himself breathe again and pokes Kelly in the gut. "Asshole." "What?" Kelly manages to look both innocent and affronted, but the twinkle in his eye gives him away. "Want some more?" he asks slowly, taking another hit even before Nick has time to answer. Knowing that waiting for an actual answer is unnecessary, because the last time Nick said 'no' to anything Kelly wanted, it was the only word either one of them knew. They share the rest of the joint this way, and later all Nick will be able to remember is how Kelly's eyes looked every time he bent his head and fitted their mouths together: shining and pleased. Soft. It's not very often that anybody gets to see Kelly looking like that; in fact, Nick wonders if anybody else ever has. He bets not. On the very last hit, Nick's not surprised at all when there's no smoke, only Kelly's tongue slipping into his mouth, easy and soft. He lets his mouth drop open farther, lets himself be pushed and pulled and rolled until he's lying face-to-face on top of Kelly, their bodies stretched the length of the couch together, a living, breathing mirror-blanket. Nick whimpers when Kelly fists his hands in Nick's hair. Sighs when Kelly untangles his fingers and slides his hands down the side of Nick's face, cradling his jaw. Moans when those same hands smooth their way down his back and slip underneath the waistband of his jeans. Kelly's pushing down with his hands and thrusting up with his hips and Nick *has* to give in to the sharp, insistent ache in his groin that demands he dig his own hips hard against Kelly's pelvis. Kelly's groan slips under his skin, peeling him open and leaving him naked. Needy. Desperate. Nick shoves himself up on his hands, his head hanging between his shoulders as he drives himself against Kelly's body. Not thinking, oh no. He can't, never can. Because everything Nick's ever learned is shouting at him, pounding angry fists against the inside of his brain, telling him that what he's doing is wrong, wronger, wrongest. But when Kelly is twisting underneath him, his eyes huge and hot, his hands even hotter, raising goose-bumps along every inch of Nick's skin, Nick can't bring himself to care. He's getting really good at ignoring what he doesn't want to see. Sometimes, when he's in the shower and being honest with himself (there not being a whole lot of room for self-deception when you're naked), that worries him. But now? Now, Kelly is pushing him away, laughing at his broken protests, sitting up and somehow managing to strip them both out of their clothes, while Nick's brain is still trying to downshift out of fifth gear. Now, Kelly is pulling Nick back down on top of him, squirming and arranging until they're lined up, face-to-face and cock-to-cock, and just like that, Nick's back in overdrive. Right now, the only thing that worries him is how soon he's going to be able to get it up again, because there's no way in hell this is going to last very long at all. Kelly wraps his legs tightly around Nick, pulling him close, and Nick shudders, almost losing it, almost sobbing, almost falling into something he can't see the shape of, much less the bottom. Kelly shushes him, soothing him, his hands working through Nick's hair and over his neck, somehow managing to be calming and restful even while Nick can feel Kelly's dick hardening even more against his belly. His brother is nothing if not a study in contradictions. He's also impatient, and as soon as Nick's no longer in danger of losing control, Kelly's right there, working him up again. Wet, heated kisses sucked along the soft underside of Nick's chin, Kelly's hands sure and hungry on his skin, on his ass, pulling him close, trying to pull the two of them inside-out of each other. There's nothing new here, nothing they haven't done a hundred times before in an empty house or a parked car, but Kelly's ramped up in a way that Nick's never seen before, and it buzzes under his skin, leaving him blind and babbling, until all he can do is wrap his arms around Kelly and hold on. "Jesus, Kel," he chokes out, shaking his head back and forth against the curve of Kelly's neck. He's barely aware as Kelly moves him around, rolling Nick onto his back and draping one of his legs along the back of the couch before sliding between Nick's thighs and up his body again, murmuring fierce, sweet things all along the way. Nick doesn't even flinch when Kelly slides a couple of slicked-up fingers into him, the joys of the prostate being just another in a long line of lessons he's studied under Kelly's oh-so-willing hands. But when Kelly's words form themselves into something recognizable - c'mon, Nicky, let me do it this time. it's gonna blow your fucking mind, man, just trust me - and his fingers make way for the head of his cock, Nick jerks into frozen clarity. "Kel-" he starts, equal parts wanting and terrified. And horny, his cock reminds him with a twitch, as Kelly runs one hand smoothly down his torso. Nick swallows. "Swear, Nick - it'll be good. I like it so much - you know you're gonna." Kelly's voice is low and warm and tempting, and Nick licks his lips, almost convinced. "I don't-" He swallows again, then exhales harshly as Kelly bends his head and pulls roughly on one of Nick's nipples with his teeth. "Fucking cheater," he chokes out. Kelly looks up at him, nipple still stretched tight, his eyes mischievous. "I could stop," he offers insincerely before letting go and soothing the abused flesh with a few long, slow sweeps of his tongue. He looks up at Nick again, and his eyes are dark. Darker. "Let me show you what it's like, Nicky," he pleads, one or two or Nick can't tell how many fingers teasing him. Kelly's never asked before, but Nick can't say he's surprised that it's finally happened. Lately, their fucking has left Nick unsatisfied in ways he can't articulate. For the first time, he understands that Kelly's felt it too, and he nods. "Alright," he says, a shudder running through him. Anticipation, fear, both? Something else? He doesn't know. Groaning, Kelly lowers his head to Nick's shoulder, murmuring again, but it's all background noise as the buzzing under Nick's skin and in his head starts anew, the volume rising with every bend of Kelly's wrist. Minutes, hours, - weeks? - later Nick feels himself stretched in new ways, and the brief pain stills him, silences his brain long enough for him to become aware of the increased intensity of Kelly's voice, the look of concern on his face. Nick shakes his head. "It's good." Hurts, yeah, but not like he'd thought, and all he wants to do is close his eyes, breathe out and sink into the feelings swamping his body. He reaches out and traces the sharp line of Kelly's jaw with a cupped hand instead. "S'alright, Kel." Kelly's propped up on one arm, his other hand skimming over Nick's chest, his belly, down his leg and up again. "Sure?" Nick runs his fingers lightly over Kelly's forehead and into Kelly's hair and nods, not trusting himself to speak. He wiggles a little and closes his eyes, missing the look of wonder that flashes across Kelly's face as he slowly eases his way further into Nick's body. Nick keeps his hand against the back of Kelly's head but resists the urge to pull Kelly down and close to him, unwilling to take the chance that a change of position would make it hurt more than he could deal with. He doesn't want Kelly to stop. Ever, maybe. Kelly stills and Nick opens his eyes. "That's... you're...?" He trails off, and it's the first time he's ever been too embarrassed to ask Kelly something that he wants to know. Nick knows he's probably blushing, but he's so hot all over already that he doesn't know how he could begin to tell. Kelly looks down between their bodies and nods his head. "Yeah," he says thickly, looking a little flushed himself. Nick nods, and they watch each other silently for a moment. Nick gets uncomfortable with the staring and looks away just as Kelly props himself up on both hands and finally starts to move again. Nick wraps one leg around Kelly, wanting more, and there's another quick slice of pain, but it's easy enough to ignore, considering that the rest of his body feels like it's nothing more than a string of brush fires consuming him from the inside out. He didn't think it was possible, but Kelly sinks even deeper into him, and Nick jerks, just about throwing them both off the couch in the process. "Good, huh?" Kelly asks, bending low to lick underneath Nick's ear. "Fuck yeah," Nick tells him, twisting his head for a quick kiss, fingers scrabbling at Kelly's shoulders. "Oh, hell yeah." His mind is racing, thoughts firing even faster than his nerve endings. Nick wants to ask why Kelly's never offered this before, wants to smack him for keeping it all for himself all this time, but he loses anything resembling coherent thought when Kelly pushes up again and just... fucks him. Hard. They're 19 and perpetually horny, and it's really a miracle that it's lasted as long as it has, so it's no surprise to either of them when it's all over a few minutes later. Kelly moves first, pushing and pulling and tugging again, until they're back where they started, only naked and sticky and very, very sleepy. Kelly lights up again, but doesn't ask Nick to share this time. Nick can tell from the absent way Kelly's playing with the hair at the base of Nick's skull that he's thinking about something. Really thinking, in an 'important things are about to be shared' way. Kelly doesn't open up often, not even with Nick, so Nick stays quiet, waiting for whatever's bubbling up inside his brother to find its way out. He's a little disappointed when all Kelly finally says is, "Love you, Nicky." "Love you too, Kelly," he replies, frowning slightly. He knows he missed something when he feels Kelly sigh underneath him. Something big, apparently. "What?" he asks worriedly, craning his neck, trying to see the expression on Kelly's face. "Nothing," Kelly says with another sigh that coats Nick's spine with ice. Kelly puts his hand on top of Nick's head and turns his head away. Nick lets him, confused and apprehensive. "Go to sleep, dork." Nick elbows him. "You're holding out on me," he protests half-heartedly, suddenly feeling like he doesn't really *want* Kelly to bare his soul after all and not wanting to look at the 'why' too closely. He feels Kelly kiss the top of his head. "Probably." Kelly snakes one arm tightly around Nick's body. "Don't worry about it, 'kay? No big deal." "'Kay," Nick mumbles sleepily, allowing himself to be convinced. Welcoming the lie that will allow him to spend the next decade willfully blind to what's right in front of his face. --- It takes Kelly awhile to realize that Nick had been telling the truth, that he really *hadn't* known that Kelly had been in love with him since long before either one of them was old enough to think of 'love' as anything other than a four-letter word. A couple of drunken, fuzzy nights slip into a couple of dry, airless, weeks during which Kelly doesn't answer his phone, his door, his email. The longest period of time in his life that he's gone without seeing his brother, much less talking to him, and Kelly's need has become a constant twitch underneath his skin, but he refuses to give in. Nick doesn't want him, not the only way Kelly knows how to need him, but he's bound and determined to find a middle ground they can both live with before he lets Nicky anywhere near him again. He spends a lot of time in the hotel room that he's rented down in San Diego, sitting on the balcony and thinking about that. Wondering why, all of a sudden, living with what he's always had isn't enough anymore. Ten days. Kelly sees the chipped places on the balcony railing in his sleep. Lives out there, steadily turning ever-darker shades of brown, and he still doesn't know. Maybe it's the finality of the soon-to-be wedding, the inescapable knowledge that he's losing Nick in a way he can't convince himself is temporary. Maybe it's the leaden certainty of everything finally being out in the open, the spine-slivering coldness of not being able to pretend anymore that he can ever really have things the way he wants them. Fourteen days. Still no answer reflected at him off the waves silvering their way along the shore, still no letup on the text messages he's deleting as fast as he can from his phone. Kelly erases one last, "If you're not dead, I'm kicking your ass," before it all becomes too much. He hurtles the shiny bastard thing against the wall, nausea twisting his gut hard as it splinters into a thousand useless pieces. He can't breathe, can't think. Knows that yet another bottle is going to do nothing except lead him out to yet another club where he won't be able - again - to lose himself in all the hands and mouths that aren't Nick's. They'll never be Nick's, either - never again. Not after 30 and fame and Tressa. Never. The thought settles over him like drifting ash, and Kelly realizes, in that moment, just how much he believed that one day, someday, Nick would see, would know, would give back what Kelly spent his whole life giving up. Even after everything they said, way back when, and everything they spent the next ten years not saying, part of him believed that someday Nick would change his mind. That Kelly could somehow change it for him. He's always gotten whatever he wanted, whenever and however. Everything except this. Twenty days now, and Kelly can't breathe around the certainty. Breaking anything else in this room full of nothing except the duffel bag he dragged with him is going to attract attention of the unwanted kind, so Kelly does the only thing left open to him, as far as he can see. The thing he's been doing for the last few weeks. He runs. He waits till he's out of the hotel to do it - a nod at the unwanted attention thing again - but once he hits the beach across the street, he's off. Deliberately, he chooses the hardest possible path, wobbling between the suck of the wet sand around his ankles and the water slipping his feet out from underneath him, grateful that all his concentration is soaking into the ground under his feet and leaving him nothing to think with. He's spent too much time thinking too many thoughts about things that'll never be, and he's done with it. Tired in a way that leaves him needing to push his body as far as he can in an effort to match the state of his body to the state of his mind. Kelly runs till he can't see anything but black spots before his eyes, there in the false light of pre-dawn, and then he runs a little farther. Dodges a couple of surfers and hopes that he's the only one who can tell that it's not just sweat running down his face. He hits the shadow of the pier about a minute and a half after he runs out of breath and drops to the ground with a splash, too tired to care that he probably should've moved away from the water first. He's still for what feels like a long time, eyes closed against the encroaching morning, one arm draped across his face in some kind of futile attempt to hide the fact - from the bottom of the pier? - that he's empty inside. Wrung out and drying on the trailing edge of the hopes he never should've let himself have. Surprisingly, it doesn't completely suck. He'll have to think about that later. Much later, when the silence inside isn't quite so brittle. Maybe it's the quietness of the water lapping over his legs; maybe it's the backdrop of his own breathing still rasping against his ears, providing a contrast. Maybe it's just a twin thing, but somehow he knows, hears the silent footfalls and isn't surprised when one warm, dry hand threads its way through his hair. "Fucking hell." Nick doesn't say anything, just settles into the sand and the water next to him and runs his hand through Kelly's hair some more, playing with it, combing it back, tangling it in his fingers. It's comforting. Kelly doesn't want it to be, but it is. "Why the fuck are you here?" he mutters, but it comes out tired and hollow, not harsh. Nick's answer is quiet and simple. "Because you are." There's nothing to say to that, so Kelly just sighs and stays silent. They stay that way for a long time, until long after Kelly's hair is dry and he can smell the sun baking the sand. The tide slowly crawling up his back is what finally moves them, Nick turning concerned and bossy when Kelly's teeth start chattering in spite of the growing heat. "C'mon, let's get you out of here," he says, abruptly standing and pulling Kelly to his feet. Kelly has to fight not to pull away when Nick slings an arm around his shoulders and allows himself to think for a split-second that Nick didn't notice, but Nick stops and faces him, the question all over his face. Kelly shrugs. "Did a lot of thinking," he says, knowing before he says it that the non-answer isn't going to be enough. Nick frowns. "So, what... I... you don't... you want me to keep my distance?" Kelly's heart twists and drops as he sees as echo of the last ten years of his life in Nick's face, and he shakes his head quickly, reaching out to run one hand up Nick's arm and trying not to shudder with it. "No, man. That's not -" He breaks off with a loud exhale, pulling away slightly and rubbing the top of his head with that same hand. "I'm good," he says finally. "Or will be," he adds, when Nick's expression shows his blatant skepticism. "I just-" He swallows. "Gimme some time, okay?" Nick worries his bottom lip with his teeth for a while before nodding slowly. "I can do that," he says quietly. "Probably the least I can do." He tilts his head and looks at Kelly, who can't deny the love shining out of his brother's eyes, even if it's not everything he wants to see there. "Let's go home, Kel." Kelly imagines he can feel hard things inside himself weakening in the face of that look, and he lets them crumble, finally, knowing that if he can't have what he wants from Nicky, he'll settle for what he needs. He doesn't know how to live any other way. For the first time that he can remember, it sounds like something he can live with. Kelly nods, answering Nick's relieved smile with a small one of his own, and when Nick threads their fingers together as he leads the way across the street and into the hotel, Kelly doesn't even flinch. -End