Chapter Text
Matt X Chris
Matt's p.o.v
I've been scrolling through TikTok for over two hours now, unable to pull myself out of my bed, my legs sore from earlier today. I don't know why I agreed to start running in the mornings with Nick. 'It'll be so fun, and it's nice and cool in the morning'. I roll my eyes at the thought of him convincing me to get out of bed at eight o'clock. I don’t know why he even started. Something about a guy he saw at the gym and he wants to be able to run with him in the mornings. The sun has started setting earlier as winter approaches, the sky now being pitch black at six. There's frost fogging up the window behind my dark curtains that are barely pulled open enough to see through, and my blankets have never felt cozier as my room is cold and dimly lit. There's a soft knock at the door before it slowly opens and Chris's head pokes in.
"Hey".
"Hey".
"Can I come in"? His voice is soft and uncertain as if I'd ever tell him no. I motion him in with a swift nod and a bright smile crosses his face.
"What do you want"? I grin and without answering he immediately lifts up my blankets sliding into bed beside me. I don't make room for him, but rather wait for him to start shoving his knee into my side as a hint for me to move before scooting over. "You're so spoiled. Coming into my room and taking over my bed. Obviously the baby of the bunch".
"All this attitude", he laughs but rests his head on my shoulder to be able to see my phone screen. It's quiet for a moment, just stupid dance audios and our breathing filling the quiet space, his hand moving over my stomach to keep himself from falling off of the bed. "I miss when we shared a room".
I glance at him but his eyes stay locked on my phone. When the three of us shared a room, we only had two beds, one for Nick and the other for Chris and me to share. Nick always said he deserved it cause he was the oldest but in all honesty, I always liked sharing a bed with Chris. He was warm and soft and was always plastered against me as if his life depended on it. "Me too". His hand pushes harder against me, his nose barely skimming my cheek as he adjusts himself yet again. "Do you need more room"?
He shakes his head, his breath fanning over my chin and neck as he does so. "I'm good". His voice is even softer now, his leg looping over one of mine. That's one thing about Chris that I love. He's so touchy and constantly craves intimacy. He's one of the few people in my life that I feel comfortable enough to have in my space. He presses a kiss against my lower cheek, his lips almost landing against my jaw, and I can feel the hairs on my arms stand at the feeling, my stomach flipping just a little. He plants his lips against the spot yet again, and I turn my head to look at him, a shy smile across his face as his eyes meet mine. A grin that I can't help but return.
"What are you doing"? I keep my gaze fixated on his light blue eyes, his expression so calm and unreadable. He just shrugs and moves his face closer to mine. He pushes his nose against my chin to turn my head and kisses the spot under my ear so softly I could barely feel it. "What a tease". I attempt to make a joke to ease the tension, but my laugh comes out a little shaky.
"Do you want me to really kiss you"?
My heart skips a beat and I can't tell if he's playing along with the joke or if it's a genuine question. "W-what"?
"Do you want me to kiss you? Like a real one".
"We can't do that". I turn away and train my eyes on my phone, but the screen's gone dark from inactivity, and I can't will my fingers to turn it back on.
"Why not? Not in a weird way. Just to see". We're brothers. Any type of kiss would be in a weird way.
"I don't know".
We're quiet yet again. His cold fingers graze against my chin, turning me back towards him. "Just one"? His voice is low now, just above a whisper, his nose inching closer to mine. "Just to see". His lips press against mine, feather-light and hesitant for just a second before he's pressing into me, our lips ever so slightly separating to mold into each other. I haven't been this close to him in God knows how long. The last time we kissed was probably when we were four or five, and it wasn't like this. It was sweet and innocent. This feels- not wrong- but definitely not innocent.
He pulls away his eyes still closed, and I know I shouldn't but I can't help myself from turning myself towards him so that it will be easier for him to kiss me again. "Come on, you said a real kiss", I joke creeping towards him yet again.
"f*ck you". His fingers snake through the hair at the base of my neck making my breath hitch in my throat.
"Try again". I form the phrase like a dare in hopes that it doesn't come across like I'm asking him to kiss me again. As if I'm making fun of him instead of craving the warmth of his lips. Cause I can't want this. I can't like this.
He kisses me again, harder this time, less hesitant. He either saw right through me, or he wants this as much as I do. His lips are slightly chapped, reminding me of the coldness that's breathing through the thin glass of the window, yet they're warm like the heat and safety of the comforter we're sharing. He kisses like Christmas eve. Familiar and snug, leaving me with the anticipation of what comes next. The next morning. And that's all we'll have. Because we can't do this again, we can't acknowledge that it ever happened. All we have is now. So I give him my all, pushing my tongue through his lips into his mouth, tasting the sweetness of whatever sugary drink he had gotten with Nick earlier. I can feel his breathing deepen through his nose, the air brushing over my top lip reminding me to move and not be so absorbed in the moment that I am frozen in place. I turn my head, deepening the kiss if it is even possible, and take his bottom lip in between my teeth. I only pull away when his hand that is on my stomach snakes its way underneath my shirt, his icy fingers skimming over my ribs.
"sh*t", I mutter under my breath, my heart racing and my body hot bordering on a sweat.
"Real enough"?
"Dude, what the f*ck are we doing"?
His head lolls to the side, his cheeks a rosy red and I want to touch them to make sure he's feeling the same fire that I am. "What? No one's home".
"Oh, well that makes this okay", I deadpan. "That's not the f*cking issue"!
"Dude, c'mon. Relax, it's not a big deal".
I scoot backward until my back hits the wall, putting enough space between us where we are no longer touching. Oh, great, realization is finally setting in as well as probably the consequences of our actions. There's no coming back from something like this. Not when it's a situation this f*cked up. Chris is my brother.
"Matt, don't make this weird". There's only a slight tinge of pleading in his eyes, but not nearly as much as there should be. He looks more relaxed than anything and it's infuriating.
"What if mom finds out? Or Nick? Or God forbid Justin? This is so f*cked up, man". My hands begin to shake at the thought of this coming out. Being gay is one thing, but f*cking around with your twin brother is a whole other issue entirely. It's life-ruining. I can already see the disgusted and disapproving looks.
"How would they? I'm obviously not gonna say anything, and you aren't either. And so what? It was just a kiss. Siblings kiss all the time".
"Not like that they don't. That was a kiss kiss. Brothers don't do that".
"Okay, how do siblings kiss then? Like this"? He grabs the sides of my face and presses a chaste kiss to my lips. "Or maybe this"? An even softer kiss is placed at the corner of my mouth, a drip of sweat creeping down my spine as my nerves begin building up in my stomach. "Just anything but this"? His horribly perfect lips are opening against mine, his wet tongue back in my mouth before I can even react and I melt at the feeling, my hands dropping to grab a hold of anything to stabilize me, his arms, the sleeves of his sweater. I can feel his quickening pulse even underneath the fabric.
"f*ck, Chris", I find the strength to push him off of me earning a high-pitched laugh in return. "This isn't funny". Seeing the look on my face, he retreats, pulling his face away from mine and sitting up on his knees.
"Look, Matt. We're just messing around. People experiment and fool around all the time. It's really not that big of a deal". I rub my hands over my face, shaking my head in disbelief. I would agree with him if we weren't literally from the same womb. However, it makes sense that we'd experiment with each other. We know how the other works, we know that we won't make fun of each other while being so vulnerable. "I won't do it again". There's something in his eyes, close to hurt but not quite. Rejection maybe. I love him, more than anything, but I know better than to get involved in something that is so life altering.
"Is this not weird to you"? I can't keep my voice steady, not after that. Sure, Chris makes jokes about us kissing or making out all of the time, but actually doing it is completely different. I didn't even realize that there could be a hint of honesty ringing throughout his jokes. That every time he mentioned kissing me, he could have actually been wanting to.
"Was it weird to you"? He avoids my gaze now, staring down at his hands that are now fiddling with the hem of his sleeve.
I don't reply. There is no right answer here. If I say that it was, I risk hurting him and potentially losing a brother. If I'm completely honest and tell him that no, it wasn't weird at all, in fact, I kind of enjoyed it, then I'll be admitting to something that I'm not ready to commit to.
"What does it mean"?
"W-what"? He finally looks up at me and instinctively I glance down. There is absolutely no way that I can hear his answer while looking into his sad, scared eyes. I might lose whatever cool I'm managing and start crying.
"You kissing me. What does it mean"?
"I don't know what you want me to say. Maybe I'm bi, gay, whatever. Or maybe I just made a stupid impulsive decision. I don't know. All I know is that I wanted to kiss you, so I did". He exhales a shaky breath, and I see his bottom lip begin to slightly quiver. I've seen Chris embarrassed thousands of times, but I've never seen him quite like this. My heart sinks as a tear rolls down the bridge of his nose, dropping onto the blankets, and I can't help but feel responsible for it. I'm hurting him.
"Chris-", I start but he waves his hand in dismissal making me halt my words.
"I'm fine". He wipes his nose with the back of his hand, trying to seem nonchalant but his body is too stiff for it to be even a little bit believable. "I'm sorry, okay". He stands to his feet, and with each step he takes away from the bed, it feels like he's taking a little bit of my heart with him.
I grab his wrist, and his whole body tenses and the knots in my stomach seem to tense up with him. I stand so we are face to face, his eyes red with tears and his eyebrows scrunched in frustration. I rest my hand on the side of his neck and he lowers his head down until his face is resting in the crook of my arm. "I love you, Chris. No matter what". He keeps his face in my arm, not moving, barely breathing, seeming afraid that I'm going to push him away. "Let's try again".
"What". His voice is muffled against my skin, but the shock is still evident in his tone. He lifts his head, eyes finally connecting with mine.
"Can we please try again? I freaked out a little bit, I'll admit. I just- wasn't expecting this to happen. But, if we're just experimenting a little, what's the harm, right"? Maybe it's stupid of me, maybe it's wrong, but right now I would do absolutely anything to get rid of this gut-wrenching guilt that was born from making Chris cry.
He doesn't say anything, so I take the opportunity to lean forward, the tip of my nose catching the stray tears that coats his wet cheek. Our lips connect for the fifth time of the night, but it's different now. It feels like repentance, like acceptance. I don't believe in much, but I believe in Chris, and I know that we're gonna be okay. No matter what.
