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For The Fans: Chapter 20

Kyran

SensitiveSwitch: Better to be an open sinner than a false saint.

Top_ofthe_mornin_toya: Not_Your_Baby if you ever need a new door mat, @ me. I swear I am very comfortable to step on

Twinkerbell: If anyone ever asks why I’m queer I’m sending them this video

After I’m done showering—without wetting my hair, because I don’t want it to appear that I’ve showered, in order to spare myself from having to potentially answer questions about why I showered—Avi is nowhere to be found.

I assume he’s hanging out with his mom, and when I slowly march back downstairs, stowing the awkwardness as best I can, I find that I’m right. Hannah and Avi are in the kitchen, sorting through Chinese takeout containers, grabbing plates and silverware. I’m not sure where my father is, but it’s probably safe to assume he’s off somewhere sipping whiskey and trying his best not to completely embody Ebenezer Scrooge.

Puttering around the corner into the kitchen, I linger by the doorway until Hannah peeks up at me and smiles. My eyes shift to Avi for just a moment, and he glances up at me, his lips curving into a soft grin before he purses it away, busying himself with setting up the food.

“Can I just say how happy I am to see you two getting along?” Hannah’s voice chimes, tearing me out of my self-loathing long enough to focus on what she’s saying. “I always hoped you boys would finally start acting like brothers at some point.”

Avi drops a fork, making a loud clank on the floor. “Sorry…” he mutters in a jittery tone that Hannah doesn’t seem to notice.

I rush over and bend to pick up the fork, but he’s already down there grabbing it. Our eyes lock, and I notice even more uncertainty shining in the grayish blue, concerning me just a tad.

I’m usually the bumbling moron when it comes to our secret fling, not him.

“Be cool, bro…” I whisper to him before we both stand up, and he nods fast.

“Yea,” I mumble, responding to Hannah in an attempt to normalize this unnerving situation. “Having Avi on the team has been fun.”

He cocks a dark eyebrow at me, and my shoulder jerks in a subtle shrug.

“I’m so proud of you for working so hard at that job, Aviel.” Hannah rubs his back. Then she looks to me. “How have you been managing financially, Ky? Is everything alright? Because I’ve been working a lot more lately, so if you need some cash—”

“Not necessary at all.” I shake my head, extending her an appreciative grin for even offering to share what little she has with me. “I’m fine. But thank you.”

She smiles. “I can’t believe you’ve found a way to balance work with school and your games. You’re like Superman!” She chuckles, and I grin awkwardly, pinching the back of my neck.

Please don’t ask how I’ve been making money… I literally can’t think of any fake job that would make sense right now.

“He’s not Superman, he’s Mr. Freeze.” Avi smirks, and I squint at him.

“Yea, well… as it turns out, Coach was able to help me get my grants to cover everything,” I lie, fiddling with things on the counter. “So I only really need money for, like, food and stuff.”

Hannah nods. “And you’ve been okay… with all of that?”

My mind is blank. I have no idea what to say, sifting through anywhere at all I could say that I got the money.

But then Avi cuts in, “Actually, I helped Kyran sell some collectibles online.” I gawk at him, and he gives me a look I can hear, telling me to just go with it. “He had a bunch of old sports memorabilia that was worth a lot.”

“Oh…” Hannah hums, showing me a sad smile. “Well, I’m sorry you had to do that…”

I wave her off. “It’s fine. I… didn’t need it.”

This is so awkward. Can we change the subject, please??

“Alright, well, I’m starving!” Avi claps his hands together. “Let’s stop talking about money and eat already.”

“Good idea, sweetie.” Hannah rubs his arm.

He picks up the plates, eyes flinging to mine for just a second before he carries everything into the dining room. I step aside as he passes, like I’m afraid that if he gets too close, it’ll somehow become obvious that we’ve been humping. Hannah glances at me, tilting her head.

Forcing a smile, I grumble, “I’ll grab the rest of the food…” rushing over to pick up containers.

We’re setting everything on the table as Hannah calls out, “Tom! Dinner!”

Taking my usual seat, I’m really dreading this. I loathe forced dinners with my father as it is, but add the tension between me and Avi, and the whole thing is like a detonated bomb just waiting to go kaboom.

My dad stalks into the room, glass in hand—called it—and I distract myself by scooping orange chicken onto my plate. When I look up, Avi is staring at me. I tilt my head, and he tugs at the collar of his shirt, eyes dropping to my neck.

Peering down at my collar, I see that the V-neck of my sweater is revealing the very beginning of a purple bruise on my sternum. Otherwise known as one of the many hickeys he planted on me.

I quickly adjust my collar to cover it up, jaw ticking as I glare at him across the table. He bites his lip to subdue a tiny grin, eyes stuck on his plate as if he’s remembering something, and I really wish I could hear what’s happening in his thoughts.

Once my father has his food, we all dig in, the conversation remaining casual, which is a relief. Avi asks Hannah how things are going at work, and she tells us about that for a while, after which we talk football. Unlike Hannah, my father doesn’t seem too concerned with how Avi and I have been dealing with the lack of money. The only thing he wants to discuss are my stats and how I’m feeling about our next game against Ohio State.

But it’s fine. I’m used to talking football with him. In fact, I’m used to it being the only topic of conversation between us that doesn’t make me want to chew broken glass, so I’m good with recapping every second of this season if it means not having to branch out into anything less superficial.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t last for long. Because by the time dinner is winding down, he rumbles, “Are you planning to visit your mother tomorrow?”

My muscles stiffen, instant irritation brewing up inside me at the thought. “Well, considering that she hasn’t even called me in, like, a year, I was thinking no.”

“She’s your mother, Kyran,” he states firmly, as if I didn’t know that fact. “You should at least stop by.”

“It’s not like she’s made me a priority in the last however many years…” I push noodles around on my plate. “She has a new family to worry about… A new kid to replace the one she wants to forget.”

“Kyran,” my father barks. “Enough. You know that isn’t true. You’re just being dramatic.”

Dramatic??

A memory tries to weasel its way up, but I blink hard to force it away.

“Why do you care, anyway?” I huff at him. “She left you, too.”

He pins me with a stern look, one that used to have me straightening in my seat, desperate to show him the Kyran he wants to see. But for the first time ever, it seems like I may have stopped caring about what he thinks of me.

“That’s neither here nor there,” my father mutters. “She’s family, and the holidays are a time for being with family.”

“Oh, really?” I turn in my chair to face him. “So did you invite Bridget home for the holidays, then? Since being with family is so important…”

“What has gotten into you?” he hisses, glaring at me with glassy eyes.

“Answer the question, Dad.” I stand my ground.

My father peeks at Hannah and Avi, who are both just staring nervously at us. “Your sister wants nothing to do with this family. She made that clear already.”

“Actually, if I remember correctly, she wants nothing to do with you,” I seethe through gritted teeth.

He drops his fork aggressively onto his plate. “Kyran, you are being beyond childish.”

“Whatever…” I roll my eyes.

“I’m going to midnight mass at St. Joseph’s tonight, and I think you should come with me.”

That gets me.

My fingers twitch as they curl around the edge of the table, my body stiffening in rage.

“Are you fucking serious??” I shoot fury at him through my eyes.

“Watch your language at this table,” he snaps. “It would do you some good… Get back some of the faith you’ve clearly lost.”

I’m teeming in a full-on wrathful episode as I growl, “That’s it.” Shoving my chair back, I stand up fast. “Fuck you and your faith,” I spit in his direction, turning away because I need to get the fuck out of this room before I lunge over the table and choke him to death.

“Kyran, wait,” Hannah pleads, pinning my father with a scathing look.

“Sorry… I’m not feeling very cheery right now.” I stomp away from the table. “Merry fucking Christmas.”

I rush toward the stairs, but the idea of going up into my room right now makes it even harder to breathe. I need some fresh air… I need to get out of this house.

So instead, I go to the front door, whipping it open and diving out into the cold night air. Stalking down the walkway, I’m fuming so hard I barely even notice that I’m not wearing a coat until a snowflake lands on me. More begin to fall, sprinkling the arms of my dark gray Henley.

Great. Snow. Another thing everyone thinks is pretty and special, but really, it’s just a big fucking mess.

On a mission to clear my head, I walk up the road, my thoughts a muddled mess of bullshit. Anger clenches my fists at my sides, echoes of screaming and fighting, people packing and leaving whirring up in my mind like a blender, creating a thick concoction of stifling hopelessness.

I walk for many minutes, making a giant loop around the neighborhood until my teeth are chattering and I can’t feel my hands. The devastation of it all is weighing on my shoulders. I can barely carry it anymore…

This terrible, awful truth I hold is so very exhausting.

Whether I feel different or not, it doesn’t matter. I can run from every person, every place that reminds me of my past, but it’s still always there.

Distraction, denial, avoidance… they don’t work.

Because I’m still broken inside, and nobody fucking cares.

Sniffling, my clunky steps shuffle to a halt while I gaze up my street. My hands are shaking as I pull my phone out of my pocket, snapping a picture of a lone streetlamp, illuminating the falling snow like glitter raining from the heavens.

My fingers are numb, typing out a post for my Instagram while emotion crawls up my throat that I have to swallow and swallow and swallow to keep down…

Silent night.

Biting my lip to stop its shivering, I’m about to post the picture when I hear footsteps. Then a deep, familiar voice that has my eyes falling shut… In relief, maybe.

Sweet, confounding comfort. He’s… here.

“Ky…” Avi stomps over to me, and when my eyes open, I find him carrying my coat, opening it up to drape it over my shoulders. “Jesus, it’s fucking freezing out here. How are you walking around with no coat on??”

“I’m… I’m s-sorry,” I croak, stupidly, blinking hard to keep the pressure intact behind my eyes.

“No… Don’t say that,” he speaks firmly, holding my coat around my shoulders. His arms and the way his body is pressing into mine warms me, more than just on the surface. It feels like he’s warming me inside, too. “Don’t apologize for being out here. I’m just glad I found you…”

Peeking at him, I notice the snowflakes covering his shoulders and his hat… his eyelashes.

“H-how long have you b-been out here?” My words ride on shivers.

“Pretty much since you left,” he sighs. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I blink at him, at the pinkness in his cheeks. “Are you? Okay?”

I’d love to lie, but I don’t think I can. All I can do is shake my head. I can’t speak, because I don’t know what to say… I just don’t understand why everything feels so much better now that he’s here.

A snowflake lands on his upper lip and he licks it away. For some reason, it makes me chuckle… Just a tiny, amused noise puffing out into the frigid air.

Avi smiles, the first real Avi smile I’ve seen since earlier, in my bedroom, and it’s like a shot of liquor running down into my gut.

“You wanna go back inside?” His fingers run up and down my arms like he’s trying to warm me still. Doesn’t he know he’s already done it…? “Or we could keep walking around… if you want.”

His eyes look so much bluer right now than usual, with only the dimmed streetlight gracing a soft glow to his features.

The fact that he would even offer to walk with me out here, in the freezing cold on Chrismakkah Eve, gives me enough strength to go back to the house. As long as he’s with me…

“We should get out of the cold,” I mumble. “You look like you’re freezing.”

His mouth twitches. “Me?? Your lips are turning blue.”

I chuckle again, leaning into his side as he walks us up the street toward the house. And I can’t help myself… I’m breathing deep, bringing cold air into my lungs with the scent of him. Something in it pacifies me… poking at a familiarity in my mind I can’t quite reach. But I like it, either way. It wraps me up the way his arms do, like a big, fuzzy blanket.

When we get back to the house, everything is quiet once more. Avi gives me a look like he’s wondering if he should stay with me or give me space, and as much as my body is urging me to cling to him, I pull away gently.

“Thanks…” I murmur. “I’m just gonna go to bed. I’m really tired.”

I stalk toward the stairs as he whispers behind me, “Okay… Goodnight.”

Clomping up the steps, I rub some feeling back into my hands, caressing a line on my palm…

Our street, where he found me.

“Goodnight.”


Tossing and turning. Sweating through the sheets.

My dick is so hard it’s aching, brushing on the soft fabric and drawing out a whimper. A shadowed form appears in the doorway, and I feel like it’s Avi. I think it is, from the way my chest tightens and my stomach jitters at his presence.

He says nothing. Simply glides over to the bed and climbs in with me. And our bodies tangle, making stifling heat that burns like a million searing licks of flames.

You’ll burn in Hell for all eternity…

“I just want to be with you…” Avi whispers on my neck, grinding his body between my legs. “I want to make you mine.”

My throat dips as I swallow. It’s scratchy and thick like maybe I’ve been screaming and crying, but I don’t remember doing it. My back is stiff, and my muscles are sore…

I have rug burn on my knees.

Avi is touching me, but his hands feel different. They’re cold, and I flinch when he runs his fingers between the crack of my ass.

“Beg for forgiveness…”

My eyes open, but all I see is dark. Blackness… An empty void of nothing.

“Avi…?” I call out while the hands touch me, harder and greedier… Aggressively pawing at me until I’m squirming to get away. “Avi, come back!”

I’m trying to speak, but nothing is coming out. I hear the words in my mind, but my vocal cords aren’t working. There’s an obstruction in my mouth…

A thumb with something wrapped around it. It tastes bad…

I hate it.

I hate this so much.

Stop…” I cry, tears falling from my eyes as I scratch and dig to escape, but I can’t fucking move. I’m stuck, like my body is frozen solid. Kneeling and subservient.

“You know who you are.”

No. No, no, no, please. Please stop.

“This is you, Kyran. He made you this way…”

The hand draped in something uneven covers my mouth, and I fall away, into the abyss.

“No!” I gasp, shooting upright in bed.

Struggling for breath, I blink away the fog of my nightmare, gazing frantically around the room. When the veil lifts, and reality finally comes back into focus, I exhale shakily. I’m in my bedroom, and I’m alone.

“Fuck.” I rub my eyes hard, brushing sweat-slicked hair away from my forehead.

I didn’t miss those fucking dreams…

Sure, I still have them on occasion, but nowhere near as often as I did when I lived here. Under the same roof as my father and all of the lies he clings to. It’s inescapable when I’m here. Like a monster that lives under my bed.

I glance at the clock on my nightstand. It’s just after one in the morning. He’s probably still at his stupid mass…

Scoffing, I shake my head, sliding out of bed to pad quietly over to the bathroom. I’m in there for a few minutes, splashing water on my face and gargling mouthwash to get the bitter taste of fear out of my mouth. But when I’m done, I find myself staring at the door on the right… the one that leads to Avi’s room.

And my feet take me there, without a second thought.

Turning the knob, I push open the door just a crack, peering into the dark room. I find him right away, lying in his bed with his arms folded beneath his head, staring up at the ceiling.

His eyes flick to mine, and he sits up slowly. “Hey…”

“Sorry,” I mumble, stepping into the room. “I couldn’t really sleep.”

“Yea…” He blinks at me. “I heard you yelling something in there…”

“Did I wake you up?” I ask remorsefully.

“Nah. I wasn’t really sleeping anyway.” I nod, shifting my weight in the middle of the room until he grins. “Kyran… come here.” He pats the bed. “Keep me company.”

I force a scowl to cover up a smile that feels way too eager as I wander over. “Fine. If you insist…”

Avi shakes his head, huffing, “Stubborn idiot,” while I crash down onto the bed next to him with a sigh.

He scoots over to make room, but not much. I lie on my back while he’s on his side, facing me. And I know he’s staring at me, so I peek in his direction.

“Are you alright?” he asks, dark brows zipped together in obvious concern for me.

It’s almost suffocating, how effortlessly he notices that I’m not. And the idea that he might know… That he could figure out why I am this way has me gulping back every bit of emotion I can swallow, keeping the façade intact.

“Yea, I just…” I reply, as evenly as possible. “It was a nightmare. That’s all.”

Avi doesn’t seem placated by my bullshit words. He nestles in closer to me. “So what’s up with you and your dad?”

I stiffen. “What do you mean?”

“It’s like, ever since I’ve known you, you guys have had this obviously fucked-up relationship… I’ve always wondered what it’s about.”

“It’s not about anything,” I mutter the lie, hanging on to it with clutched fingers. “He’s just an asshole. He doesn’t really care about me…”

He made that clear when I was twelve, and he chose an image over his own son.

“But why?” Avi asks. “You’re, like, the perfect son.” I scoff, but he keeps going. “No, I’m serious. You’re smart as hell, great at school… A goddamn college football star on his way to the NFL. What could he possibly have to complain about?”

The room goes silent for several thick seconds before I say, “I broke up our family…”

“How??” His baffled gaze is hot on my face. “That doesn’t even make sense…”

“Avi, I don’t really want to talk about it,” I sigh tiredly. “Just be glad you have a parent who loves you unconditionally… No matter what you do.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and my gut is churning anxiously. But then his fingers slip up into my hair, and he brushes the strands gently. Closing my eyes, I let out a breath, loving the feeling and reeling from it at the same time.

“And your sister?” He speaks softly. “Where does she fit into all this?”

I swallow. “Bridget left because she couldn’t deal with it…”

“With what?”

Them. My mom and dad, and their… blatant disregard for us.” Shifting onto my side, I face him, locking our eyes. “Everything we had was on the surface. Wealthy, tons of friends. That smiling family in church every Sunday, thanking God for all our blessings… But it was bullshit. It was an act. Faking shit only lasts for so long…” I blink, then mumble, “I guess.”

Avi’s eyes sparkle with inquisition. I can tell he wants more information, but thankfully he doesn’t pry. He just asks, “Are you mad that she left? Because you wanted to go too…?”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek. “I just miss my sister. I don’t blame her for leaving. I wish she hadn’t, but I get it.”

His fingers trail down my shoulder, onto my arm. “Why didn’t you go farther? For school, I mean. If you really wanted to get away from here…”

I breathe out slowly. “It probably sounds dumb, but I love Boston. This place is my home… I didn’t want to let the bad memories ruin it for me.” I pause, considering this. “Part of me regrets it… Or, I did. I used to…”

My eyes fall to where his chest is moving, breaths seeming to pick up with my subtle confession.

“Are you saying you don’t hate me as much as you used to?” His lips quirk, and I purse mine to keep from grinning.

“It’s slowly wavering.” A tiny one sneaks through, and he chuckles.

“Remember my eighteenth birthday?” He smirks, fingers gliding down to my hand. “How pissed off you were when you found out I was going to BC?”

I laugh quietly. “I remember kicking your ass…”

He gasps in outrage. “You wish! I schooled you.”

“In your fucking dreams.” I shove him gently.

But my hand stays on his chest.

And then it falls, slowly, down to his waist. The amusement disappears, and we stare at each other, breathing shallow as the warmth between our bodies swallows us up, closing the mere inches of space that separate us.

“Will you tell me things about you now?” I whisper. “Things I don’t know…”

He shrugs. “There isn’t much to tell, really. It’s always just been me and my mom. My dad died when I was six, and that was pretty awful…” His throat bobs. “But it was a long time ago.”

“You don’t have any other family?”

He shakes his head. “Not really. None that we communicate with. I have one aunt in Brooklyn, my dad’s sister. The rest of his family lives in Spain. And my mom’s family disowned her because she didn’t fit in with them. She didn’t agree with a lot of their ideals…”

“You mean like religion?”

He nods. “She’s never had much interest in it, which I totally get. It’s kind of ridiculous… All these rules and regulations just for faith.” He scoffs, then peeks at me. “But I don’t need to tell you this. You were raised Catholic, it’s pretty much the same dumb bullshit.”

Don’t I know it… I nod. “Fucking stupid.”

“Totally,” he agrees. “Fear the Almighty or He’ll strike you down.” He huffs, shaking his head. “And the craziest thing is that all these religions have spent centuries fighting over who He loves the most, when the whole time He’s been historically indifferent to them all equally.”

My eyes narrow, because he makes a really great point. The kid’s smarter than he lets on, that’s for sure.

“I just find it so infinitely idiotic… Killing each other when we’re all worshipping the same asshole who doesn’t care,” he sighs. “But anyway. That’s enough of my anti-theistic ranting.”

I chuckle, scooting in closer. Because I like what he’s saying.

“One of my mom’s brothers left too,” he goes on. “And they got a place together in Lebanon for a bit before Mom decided to come here. He still lives out there. We went to visit him once when I was twelve.” He chuckles as if he’s remembering something. “He’s a cool guy. But yea, the community in Brooklyn was even more pissed off at my mom when she married a Spanish guy.”

He laughs again, and it makes me smile. “Your mom’s kind of a badass, huh?”

“She is.” He grins. “Gives zero fucks about what anyone thinks.”

“Reminds me of someone…” I smirk, and he bites his lip. “I’ll still never understand how she ended up with my father… He’s, like, the opposite. All he does is care what people think. It’s exhausting, bordering on psychotic.”

Avi shrugs. “I don’t know…” His fingers brush over mine. “Maybe sometimes opposites can attract. Maybe someone has something that you don’t… And they make you better.”

I can’t even help how I’m leaning into him, closing the gap. Resting on him and his deep words that mean so much to me right now.

That old resentment? The anger and the irritation… the hatred I’m not even sure was real to begin with… I think it’s fully gone. And all I’m left with is a desire to get closer… to learn more and listen more.

Like maybe I should have been doing from the start.

“Avi…” My fingers lace with his, almost timidly. And then my leg swoops over his. “I need to ask you something…”

“Ask me,” he whispers.

“Was it really an accident…?” My mouth eases closer to his lips. “When you touched my hand earlier?”

Raising my hand clasped in his, he drags it up to his chest. “It’s never been an accident with you, Kyran.” My eyes flutter shut, forehead dropping to his. “Was it an accident for you? When you called me baby…?”

My head shakes. “It’s never an accident.”

A hum rumbles up from his chest, and I press my lips to his to catch it.

I have no idea what I’m doing anymore… I don’t understand this. Me and him… What’s real and what’s pretend.

All I know is that I’m kissing him because I want to, because it feels good. And I don’t give a fuck about money or recording… I don’t care that he’s my stepbrother, or that we’re different. This isn’t about the fans.

Because we have one very important thing in common that I never noticed until right now… We’re both trying desperately to figure out who we are.

Running in circles alone, we somehow wound up chasing each other.

Pushing myself on top of him, I’m coming undone in an instant, falling apart on his mouth, building sweet friction between our writhing bodies. And this time, my hands are ripping off his clothes, and my own. I’m driving this, after so many times when I’ve let it feel like he was making it happen. Right now, it’s all me.

I’m going to fuck him because I want to, not because I have to, or because I’m telling myself that I do. I want to feel us coming together, because it’s the only time when I’m sure of anything.

Avi yanks the comforter over us, and we move in synch, kissing wildly while he uses something like lotion to get his dick wet.

“We have to be really quiet,” I mumble on his lips, my cock leaking on his abs as I sit astride him. Grinding my ass back against his erection, slipping and sliding it in between. “I think my dad will be coming home soon…”

“So… not the time to use the cock ring, then?” He grins, and I rumble a salacious laugh, shaking my head. He holds my jaw in his hand, keeping my face in line with his while he aims his crown up to my hole. “We’ll use it when we get back to the dorm.”

I nod, biting on his lip to keep quiet as he slips inside me. It takes me a moment, but when I lift, I see stars behind my eyes, bearing my weight on my knees and building to an easy rhythm.

His bed creaks a little, so we keep it slow. But it’s fine, because it feels incredible this way… Hands all over, lips sucking, teeth nipping, tongues professing what our mouths have to keep quiet. We’re all breaths, soft gasps, and hushed grunts, hidden away in secret, giving one another the pleasure that’s been sustaining us all along.

And by the time my orgasm is ready to pull me over the edge, I can’t fucking believe I ever even attempted to fool myself into thinking this was just about the money.

There isn’t a camera in sight, and it’s the best sex of my life.

Avi’s cock swells in my ass, and mine throbs between our joined bodies, both of us erupting in mirrored bliss, making a sexy mess all over one another.

But it feels divine. Heavenly…

A miracle if there ever was one.

My damning he’s turned into sweet salvation.


Christmakkah morning comes with Avi and I startling awake to voices and noise outside his bedroom door.

After the mind-blowing sex that was just for us, we spent hours talking until we both fell asleep. In his bed. Together.

With our parents just up the hall.

Yea, maybe not the best idea. But still, it was the best night of my life, and I’m scared to think about what that means.

Jumping out of bed naked, clothes in hand, I rush toward the bathroom with Avi hot on my trail.

“Fuck…” I grumble. “Do you think they heard us last night?? No, there’s no way. They would’ve said something. Or not… because that’s really awkward.” I ramble as my mind runs a marathon of neuroses.

“If you think you’re getting into that shower before me, you’re higher than I am,” Avi grunts, pushing me out of the way.

“Are you fucking serious??” I whisper-bark at him. “Which one of us still has cum lingering in his ass?”

I raise my hand, and he grins. “Please keep raising your hand to that question. It’s my favorite thing you’ve ever done.”

I roll my eyes, going for the knob in the shower. Turning the water on, I peer at Avi while he stands naked in front of the vanity, stretching and grabbing his toothbrush.

“I can see you checking me out.” He winks at me in the mirror.

“I’m not checking you out…” I grumble. “I’m just wondering how it’s possible that I actually shared a bed with you last night.”

“Why? Because I’m so awesome, you can’t believe how incredibly lucky you are?” He beams.

Scoffing, I step into the shower, yanking the curtain closed. “Shut up, Avi.”

“Just let me know if you want me to join you…” he sings.

“Yea, I’m sure that would work out beautifully,” I mutter sarcastically. “Your mom comes up here to look for us and we’re in the shower together. Merry Christmakkah to us all!”

He laughs, going about his business while I wash myself up, all the while swimming in memories from last night.

I’m having trouble processing it as a real thing that happened…

Not the sex, because I’m getting used to that for the perplexing ecstasy it is. But the part where we cuddled up together, naked, touching and talking for hours on end. The part where I fell asleep with my head on his chest and his fingers in my hair, our legs tangled, keeping us as close as possible without swallowing each other up.

We talked about everything under the sun last night… Everything except for one big thing that I have no intention of ever mentioning to him. But all the other stuff…

I learned that his favorite music is grunge and alternative rock from the nineties, because his mom used to play for him when he was little. I learned that his obsession with licorice begins and ends with the red, and that he thinks the black is more disgusting than rosemary, which he also hates.

I learned about all the crazy things he believes to be real, like Bigfoot, and the Mothman, various aliens and monsters and beings from other dimensions.

I learned that he’s never really had an actual relationship that’s lasted longer than a few weeks, and that he’s never been to a school dance. It bummed me out to hear this, because I’d completely forgotten until he mentioned it that he was conveniently absent from our high school prom. And I hadn’t even noticed at the time.

Regret is still rolling my stomach at the sound of his voice in my mind…

“I’m kind of a loser, Kyran… In case you didn’t notice,” he huffed, using a fake grin to disguise real feelings I hate myself for missing before. “And losers don’t get to slow dance at prom.”

This thing with us is complex and confusing and fucked up beyond belief, but the more I think about it, the more I’m sure that last night was the kind of night you have with someone you’re about to fall for… And I had it with my stepbrother; a guy.

None of this is supposed to be happening… And I’m scared to death of what it all means. But at what point do you stop fighting things that light you up inside like the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center?

Avi’s been telling me all along to stop fighting what feels good. And the whole time, I brushed off his words, because he doesn’t know the real story. The real reason why this image I’ve created for myself is so important.

But at the same time, I’m finally beginning to recognize this for what it is… Good.

No matter how complicated it is, it feels amazing, the things we do together. Before last night, I thought it was just the sex that stirred up every desire that’s been hidden inside me, buried beneath layers of denial and self-preservation. But now, I know the physical part was just the beginning…

Somewhere along the lines, the hate fizzled out, and something new sprouted up in its place. Affection… Fondness… Attachment?

I don’t get it, but now, when I’m peeking at him from around the shower curtain, watching him gargle mouthwash and tie his messy hair back in a tiny half-bun, I don’t see my stepbrother who pisses me off to no end. I don’t even see my reluctant business partner I’ve been forced to interact with in order to stay in school.

I just see Avi.

The guy who’s seen parts of me no one else has. The guy who never stops smiling at me, no matter how mean I am to him.

The guy with snowflakes on his eyelashes, who brought me my coat last night.

That guy wouldn’t be doing all of that just for money… Would he?

“Are you about done?” he rumbles, and I flinch away to pretend like I wasn’t just staring at him.

“Uh…” I can’t even form words.

I’m too busy tangling up in a mess of emotional weeds.

“Alright, that’s it.” He whips the shower curtain back and climbs into the shower.

His big body is crowding me, and I back up against the wall while he grabs the body wash and begins lathering himself up.

If I was looking for a distraction from my state of confusion, here it is. Avi’s soapy muscles, suds slipping down their tanned slopes.

“If you don’t want me to bend you over right now, you’re gonna have to stop looking at me like that,” he murmurs.

Blinking at him while droplets of water tumble over his full lips, I stand still, shivering as blood pumps rapidly to my aching cock. Avi’s eyes fall to it, then back up to mine. And he lets out a ragged breath.

“Turn around,” he whispers, hoarse and commanding. And now my ass is literally clenching in need. “We’re gonna have to make this quick… and quiet.”

Nodding, I turn around and plant my hands on the wall. I don’t care about anything right now other than getting him back inside me. I’m officially addicted to this new distraction from the chaos, which feels oh-so much better than the denying myself I used to run with.

Avi moves up behind me, his dick immediately jamming me in the ass. I gasp and he hums, running his hands up my wet sides, sealing himself to my back and decorating my shoulders with soft kisses. I can feel his arm moving as he strokes his cock, then his fingers swirl around on my hole, making it slippery with something… Maybe conditioner? Who even knows… Who cares, I just need him inside me before I die.

“Are you open and ready for me, baby?” he whispers in my ear, tracing a line up my neck with his tongue.

My face slants to glare at him over my shoulder. “Are you calling me loose??”

He laughs with his lips on my shoulder. “No… I would never call you loose, Kyran. I’m just making sure you’re relaxed.” He stuffs a finger inside me, and I purr. “And it feels like you are.”

“Ffuck you,” I groan, leaning back against his chest while he fingers me slowly, my body craving him wider; deeper than a finger can accomplish.

“Mmm… I love it when you get hostile,” he croons. “Don’t worry, baby. You can be my sexy little slut and still have the tightest hole in the goddamn universe.”

Whimpering, I push my ass back against him while he slides his finger out, nudging the head of his cock between my cheeks.

“Ready, gorgeous?” He grips my hip with his left hand, nipping my shoulder. “You’re about to get probed.” He chuckles, and I roll my eyes.

“Oh God… please don’t start talking about aliens again,” I huff, then whine as he jams that fat crown into me.

“Man… You’d be a Gray’s wet dream,” he yammers, teasing me with the round, plump head. “They like to see how much they can make you spray.”

“Avi, just shut up and fuck—” My hiss is cut off when he shoves his dick in. “Meee.”

“Shhh.” He presses a firm hand on my back, forcing me to bend at the waist. Palms flat on the wall, I brace myself while he drills up into me slowly, feeding me every inch of his cock. “Quiet, baby. Let me fuck the cum out of you real quick.”

“Unngghfuck, Avi…” I mumble random sounds and syllables, bending over while he builds a rhythm, pounding into me slow, but fierce. “Ahhh…vee, fuck my ass harder…”

Digging his fingers into my hips, he works his cock in and out, the friction of him within my body’s walls and the lashing of my prostate sending me sky-high in an instant. I’m trying my hardest to be quiet, because showers tend to magnify sounds. Just ask the slap slap slap of his skin against mine that seems to be rippling all around us.

“Look at that ass taking my cock…” he whispers, slinking his hands around to my front to play with my nipples. “The sight alone is gonna make me bust in you, baby.”

“Ffuuck… good,” I croak. “;Cause I’m… ah, I’m probably gonna… come soon.”

“Yea?” He sounds elated, melting his chest over my back as he mashes his hips into me, bruising my cheeks with brutal thrusts. “You nice and sensitive for me this morning, beautiful boy?”

I nod fast, eyes rolling back from the zaps of lightning he’s shooting through my loins. I must be super-sensitive, because every stroke of his cock is turning me out, my dick pulsing precum as it swings up and down from the force of him slamming into me. Reaching for it, I palm my balls, squeezing them before jerking my cock to match his tempo. It feels sublime, and I’m winding up tighter and tighter.

Avi smacks my hand away, taking over to stroke me while he fucks me, his other hand gliding up to my throat. His hand curls around it tight and I whimper, because I’m not sure why… But I just love the feeling of him choking me while he’s turning my ass out.

“You’re being way too loud,” he scolds.

I hadn’t even noticed that I was. But then I’m also on a rocket ship to Mars, so everything sounds like a fiery blast off.

His fingers move away from my throat and the next thing I know, he’s jamming his thumb into my mouth.

“Here. Suck on this,” he hums.

Of course, I do.

Fuck, I don’t know what it is about his dominant side that destroys me so damn good. Maybe it’s because he’s not like that in regular life… So it’s like there’s a side of him that only I get to see. His regular cockiness is turned up to the max when we’re alone, and he becomes this demanding, growly, filthy-talking beast with a huge dick who orders me around. And something about it calls to my submissive side I never let out… For anyone but him.

Sucking feverishly on his thumb, I use it to thwart my groans and whines and sobs while his cock is driving me right up to the edge of the cliff like Thelma and Louise.

“Show me how you come for only me, superstar,” he whispers in my ear.

“Mmm mm mmmm…”

There it is… It’s right… here… I’m…

Avi pulls me upright, straightening my back flush against his chest while he beats my dick off and ruts up into me. And I burst, shooting streams of cum all over the shower wall while he milks out each aching contraction.

“That’s it, my pretty little football slut,” he whispers, and my eyes are rolling back in my skull. “Look at that big dick come…”

My entire body is tingling all over, chills of hot and cold rushing beneath my skin as my ass clenches tight on his cock. As soon as I’m finished coming, he shoves me back over, bending me all the way at the waist so that I’m almost touching my toes. Then his hands grip my ass cheeks hard, spreading them open while he surges his cock in and out of me.

“Avi…” I whimper, struggling to keep my wobbly knees from giving out. “Avi, come in me… b-baby.”

“God, I love hearing you call me that,” he grunts.

My hand rushes up to my softening dick and I tease it, with my balls, the sensitivity causing me to shudder.

“I’m gonna feed your greedy hole every hot pulse.” His voice cracks, his thrusts becoming frantic.

“Give it to me… please.”

I can’t believe I’m begging for cum… It’s fucking baffling, but there’s no way I can deny this need. Not right now…

Not with his dick swelling up in my ass.

“Squeeze on it,” he snarls. “Suck it all… outFuck, baby, I’m gonna fill you…”

“Fill me.”

“Take it.”

“I’m taking it.”

“Kyran…”

Avi.”

I’m being flooded. I can feel it, gushing inside me while he stuffs it deep with shallow thrusts. Gasping and panting and the quietest grunts we can control fill the air, covered by the running water as my stepbrother comes in my ass and I clench my muscles on him to grip him in me tight.

“God-fucking-damn, baby…” he sighs, hands rushing all over, cherishing my wet flesh with affection as he comes down from the high of his orgasm. “You are a fucking superstar.”

A chuckle bubbles from my throat as he pulls me up and I straighten once more, his fingers playing with the curves in my chest and abs, lips dancing all over my shoulders.

“Superstar at getting fucked…” I rasp, resting my weight against him. “Who knew?”

“But only by me… right?” he whispers, a rare twinge of Avi vulnerability sneaking out with his words.

I gulp, and nod. “Only you.”

And it’s the truth. Because as up in the air as this whole thing has become, one thing I can say with full certainty is that I don’t want to be doing this with anyone else. It’s confusing enough as it is… But for some reason, with Avi, it doesn’t feel as scary as it should.

Maybe he’s given me a little of his reliance… to share.

“Ky…” he rumbles into me, flicking my earlobe with his tongue. “Squeeze on it while I pull out. Hold it in… I wanna try something.”

His tone has this needy fascination, a desperate wonder that has me doing exactly as he wishes. I clamp my ass while he tugs his cock out of me, slowly, prompting a long, satisfied hum from within my chest.

But then I feel him crouching down. And my cheeks burn as I peek at him over my shoulder, watching him open my ass and stuff his lips in between.

“Baby… Uhhfuck, baby, feed it to me,” his choked voice stammers, like he’s lost in the pure obscenity of what he’s doing.

Licking my hole, sucking on it while I slowly, tentatively release and his cum seeps out… into his waiting mouth.

“Jesus fuck…” I groan, while he hungrily eats his cum out of my ass. “That’s fucking…”

“Hot,” he whimpers, kissing my hole over and over.

So hot,” I purr.

He stands up, wiping the back of his mouth and staring at me with hooded eyes. And I spin around, grabbing his jaw and kissing him hard, without a single fuck to give in the world.

This is so fucking dirty, so depraved… And we’re not even doing it for the fans. We’re doing it for us, because we want to. And just like everything with us, it seems to just happen.

Maybe the reason I’ve been fighting this so hard is because I knew it was inevitable… The chemistry of hate was never strong enough to overpower the hunger of want.


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