Balls Deep

There are some lines a person is never supposed to cross but once they’re crossed, there is no walking back.  Jerking off in the shower while thinking about my little brother is one such line. Last night, kissing Nicolo, jerking us off together, and eating the cum off his stomach is another.  We broke a silent, but mutually agreed upon covenant most brother’s share the second they become brothers and the only way forward is to simply keep going. It still feels wrong on a primal level to want Nicolo as much as I do, to have him want me...

Other than swimming, playing video, or board games, watching television, or getting off with Sebastian, there isn’t a lot to do while we wait for our new identities. A process that Sebastian, Simon and even Burke swear is quick but seems to be taking forever.  I’m not complaining, not when Sebastian finds every opportunity to use his hands or mouth on me with Simon and Burke none the wiser. It’s easy to miss what you’re not looking for, and no one expects two brothers to be sneaking away three or four times a day to get off together.  We’re careful...

The front door opens and shuts with a snap behind Simon. After he turns the lock, he pulls off his raincoat and shoves it into the closet with an irritated huff. Burke, from his place on the sofa, with a game control in hand, losing spectacularly against Nicolo at Mario Kart, glances away from the screen, and lifts a questioning eyebrow at his partner.  “I’ve got good news, and bad news,” he says before he kicks his wet shoes off and crosses the living room. A US Marshall having bad news sounds well . . . bad.  “What’s the good...

It’s a little funny that Nicolo Ritland is married to Sebastian Ritland—his not brother.  Nicolo Ritland doesn’t have a brother even if Sebastian is my actual brother. I don’t have any family according to the paperwork I quickly flipped through while Sebastian packed. My mother died in childbirth. My father is unknown. I grew up as a ward of the state because no other family stepped forward to care for me, before aging out of the system when I turned eighteen a little over six months ago.  Simon, after what feels like hours of driving, pulls into the driveway of...

Until our things arrive, hopefully tomorrow like Simon suggested, there isn’t much for Nicolo and I to do so we settle down on the living room floor, and dump out the contents of the thick envelopes we’d been given.  There is paperwork—a shit ton of paperwork for both of us, along with two temporary phones the US Marshals can use to contact us, or we can use to contact them until we get our own phones.  I knew from experience the papers we’ve been given include a new drivers license, social security number and banking information, as well as things...