Four:

The front door closes just as I drain the tub, rinse myself off—although no amount of that can change how dirty I feel,  grab my towel and quickly run to my room.

I shut the door behind me but forget to lock it, let the towel drop from around my waist, and drag a hand through my hair as I notice that my dick is still semi hard. What now, should I have another moment featuring my dad?

"Shit man! Cover up or something," Jake says as he barges in without knocking, and immediately turns around. I felt the heat of a blush creeping up my neck at what this must look like with the lotion in my hand as I pick up my towel.

" It's not what it looks like," I say quickly as I wrap the towel around my waist, but I know the damage is already done. "But I guess we're now even."

"I don't want to know what it looks like. Uh...Danny we need to uhm...talk," he stutters as he turns around to face me again.

Talk? Us?

Oh shit! Had he seen and heard me in the bathroom? Had he walked in on me not so silently, and very, very audibly moaning his name and begging him like a whore to fuck me?

No, relax. I am probably blowing shit out of proportion. I was not that loud, and there was really loud music playing in there.

"Well? Say what you want, I don't have all night," I say impatiently because I cannot stand to be in the same room as him, and for all the wrong reasons.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm probably just overreacting. You're my brother and it was...it was a mistake and besides we used to shower and get dressed together when we were younger, no?"

I blink, not even trying to hide my surprise or discomfort. Was Jake admitting that I was right? And in my face too?

Before he changes his mind, I make a mm—hm noise in my throat, nod my head in agreement and look at him in an 'anything else'  kind of way.

He stands up, smiles—yes, he smiles at me, and I realise, I don't even remember the last time I saw him smile. Jake is one of those nonchalant, bad boy wannabes, so all he does is be angry and smirk. He has to have practiced on the way home, because he is usually incapable of human emotion—and squeezes my shoulder as he walks out, and I can't help but wonder if he's just setting me up for more daydreams.

I pick out shorts and a tank top and wear that for the evening because it is, and I'm not even kidding, almost one hundred degrees outside. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating abit but still, it's scorching outside for a first days of summer evening.

I go downstairs and find him on the couch, man spreading and watching Law and Order, which I do not even care that much for, but I sit down anyways. His legs basically slap together when I sit next to him and he twitches with discomfort as I lean over tograb a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

I shake my head in disbelief. We literally just talked about this like twenty minutes ago.

"I feel like you haven't let this go just yet, like now there's some sort of brick wall between us," I blab without thinking, or even knowing where the words are coming from.

"I mean not like it was not there before," I say quietly and mostly to myself.

"It's not like that, Danny," he replies absently.

"It is exactly like that Jake. I made a mistake. I should have knocked. I'm sorry, so please—"

"Shh...I'm watching this," he replies in a tone that suggests that's all he's going to say about this, and sips his beer. I sigh and shrug. What exactly am I trying to fix here? As far as I remember, as soon as he joined high school, me and Jake stopped having a relationship. A bit of weirdness is not going to be that much different.

Also, fuck, Law and Order is such absolute crap.

My eyes are heavy as lead twenty minutes into the show, but I am not about to haul my tired body upstairs to my room, so I curl up on one end of the couch, my feet touching his thigh over his jeans. He tries to be subtle when he looks at me, but I notice anyway.

If he's uncomfortable, HE can move.

I wake up about half an hour later, Jake shaking me so hard I think my it is the goddamn rapture as I sit up, scared, half blind and disoriented. I groan and rub the sleep out of my eyes, and glare at him when I can finally focus.

"What?" I snap, the irritation evident in my voice. I swear, if this is some prank.

"You...you were saying some shit in your sleep," he says, his face scrunched, like he had smelled something really nasty.

I chuckle in pure annoyance and I'm pretty sure my I'm-trying-so-hard-not to-kill-you face shows it.

"So you woke me up? You think you're in a horror film or something? Hell what did I even say that was so unsettling you had to wake me up? And also why do you look like you just ate a skunk?"

"Danny, you..."

Holy crap! Had I talked about screwing Jake in my sleep?