Under His Protection

Breakfast comes in the form of to-go boxes from some off the wall diner in a small town we’re passing through just after nine in the morning.  The coffee is weak, and far colder than I typically enjoy, with zero cream or sugar. I would have much preferred water or juice but I drink it anyway.  The bacon is a little overcooked but the pancakes are to die for. They melt on my tongue, a sweet mix of butter and syrup, as I hold the box steady with one hand, and feed my face with the other.  I’m not the...

While in protective custody the rules are simple but numerous. Some of them are more important to follow than others, like staying inside, and avoiding contact with the outside world, but Simon stresses all of them equally while Burke leans against the wall and nods along.  Nicolo’s fingers are laced with mine as he listens with wide eyes, absorbing each rule with all the focus of a college student with aspirations to land on the Dean’s List. If there is a test later, he wants to pass.  Unfortunately, he’ll probably forget more than one, more than once. It’s a lot...

For a moment, I’m warm and safe, wrapped in Sebastian’s arms. In the next, I’m wide awake, cold and alone in an unfamiliar room. The house is dark and silent.  My heart slams against my rib cage, and I kick the blanket off.  Where is Sebastian? What if he left me in the middle of the night?  He promised. He pinky promised we’d stay together but what if . . . I can’t catch my breath as I roll and fall out of bed, hitting the floor with a painful thump. The blankets tangle around my legs, and I can’t...

Of all the questionable shit I’ve done, kissing my little brother like my life depends on it, while he withers on top of me, somehow ranks higher than testifying against my own father in open court.  In my defense, Nicolo kissed me first, and if the hard length pressing against mine through our basketball shorts is any indication, he’s willing to do a lot more than kiss. How much more is the only real question.  “Sebastian.” Nicolo’s fingers dig into my chest as he pulls his mouth away from mine and pants against my cheek. His breath is hot, and...

There are rules, Sebastian said this morning before we left our temporary bedroom. Because what we’re doing with one another is illegal, Simon and Burke can’t know. They can’t even suspect that Sebastian kisses me like I’m his reason for living. Not if we want to be placed together. Or at all, for that matter.  That means, when we’re not in the bedroom we share, safe behind the locked door we have to act like brothers. Nothing more. Nothing less.  When we’re alone, if we’re doing things brothers should never do together, we can’t be loud. One moan at the...

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...