Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They don’t talk about the night of the Full Moon Party, not for years.

If Saxon had it his way they never would. If he had it his way, Lochlan and him would go about their respective lives, interacting as little as two siblings with parents who were still happily married could. Preferably Lochlan would still grow up to be like him; Duke graduate, finance bro, and of course, total ladies’ man. Not that those things seemed anywhere near as important to him now though. Mostly he just wanted Lochlan in his distant orbit, following in his footsteps but never too closely. Two parallel lines stretching across the same plane in the same direction, never intersecting.

 This desire of Saxon’s, like most of his, goes unfulfilled. Lochlan does ultimately choose Duke, even rushes Kappa Alpha (after much pressuring from his parents), and somehow ends up getting a bid (“somehow” definitely being that he’s a legacy, DEI-obsessed libtards can ramble on and on about the practice being disbanded but everyone knows it still exists), but that’s where their similarities end. Lochlan has absolutely no interest in being a finance major, or anything business related for that matter. Instead he chooses environmental engineering like the absolute nerd he is. It makes Saxon hot with frustration; Lochlan was good looking, funny, smart, and charming. He could be anything he wanted to be, and yet he always seemed to want to be in the shadows behind the real men of society. 

When it gets out during Lochlan’s senior year of college that he’s bringing his boyfriend home for Thanksgiving break Saxon thinks he’s going to destroy something. Because No, Lochlan’s not allowed to be gay. Why he feels this way, and why he feels it so strongly he’s not sure. He tells himself it’s because it ruins the family’s image. Though it had already been tainted with various scandals over there years, this was one so easily avoidable. Just like his major, Lochlan could simply choose not to be that way, surely. He could have chosen a business major, could have conquered many women over years and years of meaningless sex, and could have joined the family business right out of college. It was so simple, easy, and most importantly, it was the right thing to do. Saxon would know this better than anyone else, of course. It’s exactly what he had done. 

At the very least, Lochlan has the decency to not tell his parents what’s really going on, and tells them that he’s bringing over a friend from college. He tells Piper the truth, he tells Saxon nothing. Saxon has to find out from Piper, of all people.

“So anyways, be nice, don’t say any weird shit,” she threatens over the phone and Saxon rolls his eyes.

“This is so fucking stupid, I’ve never brought home any girls for the holidays. They’re like, strictly family-only. If I say weird shit about it, it’s because it is weird,” he whines.

“You’ve never brought any girls home because you never have any,” Piper quips and Saxon hates her but only because she knows she’s right. Fucking women has always come naturally to him, getting them to stay, however, is another story completely. 

“A lot of big talk coming from you, Miss Virgin,” he snarls back into the phone and Piper scoffs. He can practically hear her rolling her eyes from over the phone and hangs up with a smirk. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So are you marrying this faggot or something?” He asks Lochlan bluntly. It’s the first time the two of them have had a conversation that’s just the two of them in years.

“Sorry?” Lochlan stutters out from the other side of the phone, his voice its usual soft and timid self. Saxon feels his body ache with emotion at the sound of it.

“I mean what’s so special about this guy, Loch? Piper and I never brought home anyone we were ever dating,” Saxon says, trying to ignore the obvious reason Piper had pointed out during their phone call, “And it’s a fucking guy ? I mean you remember who Mom and Dad are right, you’re not like, being retarded or something are you? They’re gonna eat him alive.” 

“They’re not gonna know, I told them he was just a friend,” Lochlan explains gently, “I mean maybe Dad might, but I don’t think he’ll say anything about it. But Mom, come on, you know she wouldn’t pick up on something like that.”

“Oh please,” Saxon says, and it’s just as much out of exasperation as it is a silent plea.

“You’ll like him, he’s nice” Lochlan defends, his voice barely above a whisper before hanging up the phone. 

He sounded hurt. Saxon hates himself for the rest of the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brandon, as it turns out, was anything but nice. He was too rude, too crude, too vulgar. His words often came out in a casual drawl, like he was always in the middle of an inside joke no one else was in on. When he talked about both men and women, it was with a certain detached amusement, as if they were all just props in his oh-so-entertaining life. He’d make comments that were just enough to make Saxon uncomfortable, half-flirty and half-dismissive, as if he saw everyone around him more as a conquest than a real person. Everything he said was laced with this easy arrogance, like he was the expert on everything and everyone, and you were just lucky to be in his orbit. It wasn’t malicious, but it was exhausting—like being constantly pelted with harmless little jabs. And for some reason, their parents loved him. Every offensive thing he said, every jab, had them both bursting with laughter. It made Saxon’s blood boil.

Even worse, he wasn’t bad looking either. He had gelled back dirty blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, gleaming with a mix of curiosity and mischief. His frame was lean, but toned, like someone who spent just enough time at the gym so that you could tell they did without them needing to show it off. His arms, slightly defined beneath the sleeves, hinted at a certain athleticism, while his posture—straight but relaxed—gave off an air of ease and confidence. If Lochlan had been born a girl Saxon would have given him a high-five and run laps around the living room in glee. Brandon was exactly the kind of guy he’d want someone like Piper to bring home, or really any woman in their family. Attractive, old money, and an obnoxious sense of humor that Saxon would’ve loved if the man behind the jokes wasn’t banging his brother. Instead, Saxon was forced to swallow the bile that rose in his throat everytime he caught his brother looking up at Brandon, eyes gleaming, as if he had hung the moon and the stars themselves. It was ridiculous.

Shockingly, the other person who seemed to be having an appropriate reaction to Brandon was Piper. She spent half of Thanksgiving dinner with her lips curled up in disgust at Brandon, and the other half with her eyes narrowed, darting between the three boys like she was trying to piece something together. Her eyes flit; first to Lochlan, taking in his cuntstruck (or was it dickstruck?) expression. Then to Brandon, grimacing with revulsion as she took in the boy Lochlan had chosen to bring home. Next they’d drift to Saxon, and then back at Brandon, as if she was trying to put two-and-two together. Her face would flood with emotions; disbelief, nausea, and horror before she’d look over to Lochlan and the whole process would start over again. 

His eyes found Brandon, who was laughing at something their dad had said. Brandon's eyes met Saxon's, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw a glint of challenge in them. It was as if Brandon knew exactly what Saxon and Piper were thinking about him. He knew about their disgust in him and was reveling in it. Meanwhile, Lochlan sat beside him, oblivious, looking like a lovesick puppy, his eyes never leaving Brandon's face. The sight of it was almost enough to make Saxon sick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lochlan said you called me a fag,” Brandon looked back at Saxon from under the night sky, smirk curled across his lips.  

He had gone outside to cool down after dinner and take a breather. Brandon, as it seemed, unfortunately had the same plans. Saxon felt a rush of anger at his remark. Lochlan wasn’t supposed to be going around telling other people what Saxon thought of them. What he and Lochlan talked about stayed between the two of them, it always had. Especially the more offensive, vulgar shit. And now, what? Lochlan was going all snowflake on him? Running and telling his little boyfriend everything that they talked about? Jealousy and rage lapped at Saxon’s stomach. He watched Brandon, his fingers curled tonight around a Miami Mint Elf Bar, taking it to his lips before inhaling deeply. Saxon lumbered over to Brandon, his face contorting with disgust at the scent of artificial smoke.

“Wanna hit?” Brandon laughed at Saxon’s facial expression, teasing.

“Nah bro I don’t do that shit, but thanks,” Saxon grimaced, trying to push down the annoyance that was already threatening to overpower him.

“Anyways, I just think it’s funny,” Brandon said, chuckling at Saxon’s rejection, “Your little brother’s a bigger fag than I’ll ever be.”

Saxon thinks he sees red for a second. He tries to take a breath, but it catches in his throat. He feels like he’s choking. There’s definitely something in his throat- disgust, vile, maybe even the tiniest bit of shame.

“Don’t talk about him that way,” he mustered out through his rage. 

He manages a side glance at the man next to him. Tall, toned, and handsome; unfortunately it was definitely the same man Lochlan had brought home. And now he was calling Lochlan a faggot, what the hell was wrong with him? Saxon was allowed to say that, to use that word about a man he’d never met before tonight, it was his goodman first amendment right as an American too. But calling your own boyfriend that? There was seriously something wrong with this guy.

“It’s true, do you wanna know how we got together?” Brandon says, stepping closer to Saxon. It’s a threat.

“Not really.” Saxon mutters, trying to hold himself together. He doesn’t know how much of this he can take before he does something he regrets.

“Oh come on, I’m sure you’ve done it before too, that classic Kappa Alpha hazing shit,” Brandon laughs in Saxon’s face. He can feel his hot breath on his cheeks. 

“We take the worst pledges, you know the wimpy ones,” he continues and Saxon can feel himself shaking, “the ones who are only here because they’re a fucking legacy or some shit, and we fuck some sense in them, like literally.” 

“I never did that,” Saxon whispers, and feels his brain shuffling through all the layers of guilt and repression that held down his college fraternity memories. So many of them spent in that dark, damp Kappa Alpha basement. Did he ever do something like that? He couldn’t remember, he would remember right? He remembered guys joking about stuff like that but he didn’t think it really ever happened.

Did I think it didn’t happen or did I just not care?

“Right, sure,” Brandon smiles and Saxon feels his stomach flip. He’s definitely getting off on Saxon getting riled up so he tries to not let it show.

“Anyways I was on top of your brother, giving it to him good, pounding his tight little ass, I didn’t know he was gay at the time, but to be honest, I didn’t really care. It’s just hazing, part of the brotherhood, ya know? But Lochy, God, that boy is just such a fag, he got it all mixed up in his head. Followed me around for like a week straight afterwards like a lost puppy, just wouldn’t let me go,” Brandon laughs, shaking his head, “If he had been anyone else I would’ve beat the shit out of him. But he’s cute and a good lay, so I figured why not?”

“Are you seriously talking about your boyfriend that way?” Saxon can’t help but snarl at Brandon.

“He’s not my boyfriend. Just a guy on my roster.”

“You’re here on Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah he invited me. Thanks for the free food by the way.”

Saxon's fist swings right at Brandon so fast he doesn’t even realize it’s happening. He blinks and Brandon is on the pavement, blood trailing down his face. He’s got his hand covering his nose and an expression of horror on his face. Saxon smirks down at him, pride simmering all throughout his body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brandon is kicked from Kappa Alpha, along with a bunch of other brothers who are found to be involved with the “hazing”, after an alumni anonymously whisper blows to the executive board. Like all Greek life incidents, their PR team does a fantastic job of sweeping it under the rug, to the point in which almost nobody outside of the fraternity knows what happens. Good, Saxon thinks, Lochlan doesn’t need people to know he’s a victim.

“It’s official,” he declares over the phone to Lochlan after he’s back at Duke, “you’re not dating again until you’re thirty. Your taste in men is like absolute dogshit, dude.”

“You’re an asshole,” Lochlan spits back into the phone, “I know it was you who leaked that shit. Brandon won’t even talk to me anymore, by the way.”

“Good,” Saxon says, “he was horrible for you. A total douche, and that’s coming from me of all people.”

“Whatever,” Lochlan huffs but Saxon can tell he’s trying not to smile, he feels his own mouth twist up into a grin, “you still suck.”

“Maybe, but you love me regardless.”

Lochlan groans and hangs up the phone. Saxon spends the rest of the day beaming with absolute joy.

Chapter Text

If Bradon’s done one good thing in his life it’s getting Saxon and Lochlan back on speaking terms. For years after their trip to Thailand their messages had been sparse, the two of them only ever texting to ask things like What did you get Mom for Christmas? or Piper got stuck in traffic, she’ll be over in 20. Even since Lochlan had gone back to college after Thanksgiving break, however, things could not have been more different. Saxon felt this urgent need to know what Lochlan was up to at all times, where he was, and who he was talking to. This was a totally natural response, he told himself, one that any older brother would come to after their younger sibling brings home a guy as shitty as Brandon. It starts the very first morning Lochlan is back at Duke.

[SAXON]: did u eat breakfast yet 

Ten minutes go by.

[SAXON]: dude? hello?

[LOCHY]: ????????

[SAXON]: you had your first class yet? eat anything?

[LOCHY]: yeah….why are you texting me

[SAXON]: why not?

[LOCHY]: idk. you never care about what im eating

thats not true i was making you breakfast everyday in thailand. He types out, fingers hovering over the send button. It’s a risky text, they haven’t talked about what happened in Thailand or that vacation in general since they got back from it. Saxon had begged Lochlan to drop what happened between them and he had, all of it. Sure, Saxon barely texted Lochlan but at least he still did. Lochlan meanwhile, had only ever responded to Saxon’s messages or used Piper as a messenger between the two of them if something needed to be said. This was their first real text conversation since everything from the vacation had gone down years ago, and Saxon was about to bring up the very thing that had fucked up their relationship in the first place? He deletes the line.

[SAXON]: whatever. starve for all i care

[LOCHY]: fuck you 

[LOCHY]: * One Image Attached*

Saxon taps the notification, it’s a picture of Lochlan’s hand firmly grasping a protein shake on the Duke campus in between classes. Saxon's face breaks out into a grin, he can practically feel himself beaming. 

[SAXON]: NOOOO WAYYY!! getting your marcos in i see you bro!

[LOCHY]: 🙂👍

Suddenly, Saxon wants to ask Lochlan a million more questions. Does he always have protein shakes in the morning for breakfast? What does he put into them? Is he taking his health more seriously? Does he workout? What kind of workouts does he do? And most importantly, did Saxon have anything to do with any of those things? He feels a flush of pride over the idea of his behavior having any kind of positive influence on Lochlan, that HAD to be where he got the idea for the protein shake from, right? Saxon tries to push his excitement down, tells himself it’s not appropriate, that he can’t spam Lochlan with hundreds of messages at once. Pride and excitement are replaced by shame. Why is he suddenly like this? He’s never been the type of guy to double text anyone, and now not only had he done that but he was now holding himself back from spamming his little brother with a bunch of obnoxious questions. He bites his tongue, feeling embarrassment roll off his body in waves.

Whatever, it’s nothing, I’m just being a good brother, I care about him like any brother naturally would, duh.

He tells himself this and brushes off any more thoughts that threaten to challenge that belief. It doesn’t matter what happened in Thailand, but Saxon had NOT come onto Lochlan, he was not interested in him like that. Lochlan might have been, a long time ago, but those feelings were completely one-sided. Saxon wonders briefly if Lochlan still has those feelings for him somewhere, tucked deep down under layers of shame. No way, definitely not. He reassures himself, he was just going through some weird teenage sexuality crisis. And now that he’s been with men, well at least one, he’s probably gotten over that weird little crush.

This thought, surprisingly, makes him feel not so great. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t like the idea of his little brother having a crush on him, even if it was a thing of the past, it’s still going to make him feel like shit. Yeah that’s it. 

So he holds back on texting Lochlan anymore that day. He can't, however, stop himself from checking in on Lochlan at least once a day. To his great relief and enjoyment, Lochlan always responds back fast and in a seemingly conversational mood. After a while, Saxon starts to find himself subconsciously memorizing little details Lochlan’s life; his classes, his friends, what he gets for each meal from the dining hall (though sometimes Saxon has to remind him to eat), and what kind of stuff he’s passionate about. Apparently he takes the whole environmental engineering shit pretty seriously. 

[SAXON]: wtf are you studying

[LOCHY]: lol

[SAXON]: im deadass

[SAXON]: ik it’s a bunch of math and science shit but for what, ultimately ?? like are you building greenhouses or planting soylent or some other gay shit ?

[LOCHY]:  😒 😒

[LOCHY]: my classes mainly have me studying chemistry, fluid mechanics, biology and public health policies. my favorite topic is seismology tho 🫨

[SAXON]: english bro

[LOCHY]: uhh sorry fuck im stupid

[LOCHY]: it’s like the study of earthquakes and tsunamis and other shit like that. just all the natural disasters that happen when the earth’s tectonic plates move

[LOCHY]: …….

[LOCHY]: you remember what tectonic plates are right? from high school?

[SAXON]: shut the fuck up

[LOCHY]: i’m just asking!! i just kinda assumed you were so busy studying business shit that all the math and science stuff just kinda fell out of your head

[SAXON]: haha

[SAXON]: talk to me after you’ve taken an econometrics class 

[LOCHY]: i will watch me

[LOCHY]: i need an easy credit class anyways 🥱

[SAXON]: all that brainwork just to end up starving and poor 

[LOCHY]: yeah because business and finances turned out so well for Dad

[SAXON]: hey don’t talk about Dad like that

[SAXON]: he tried his best

[LOCHY]: yeah maybe. i wouldn’t describe money laundering as “his best” 

[LOCHY]: but that’s just me

[SAXON]: whatever. you don’t get it

[LOCHY]: i get it. just sucks 😕

[SAXON]: ….yeah

[LOCHY]: sax…can i tell you a secret ???

Saxon feels his heart race. Everything Lochlan and him have been texting about for the last few weeks has been harmless, innocent surface level stuff. It’s almost as if they’ve been trying to catch up on lost time, learning as much about each other’s day-to-day life as they can. Saxon feels honored he’s learned Lochlan trust, at least enough of it that he wants to share something personal with him now ... .but is he…

Still in love with me? Or is he dating another guy?

Both those options sound equally appalling. Saxon knows they shouldn’t, knows one of those two realities are much worse than the other. That knowledge however, doesn't stop the other option from making him feel just as nauseous and nervous.

[SAXON]: ok. just no gay shit

[LOCHY]: haha don’t worry i save that stuff for piper

[SAXON]: wait so you are seeing someone rn?!

[LOCHY]: 😑

[SAXON]: whatever. just tell me

[LOCHY]: i applied for duke’s school for the environment

[LOCHY]: like for my master’s

[SAXON]: okay bro making big dog moves i see you

[LOCHY]: lol stop 

[LOCHY]: anyways i got accepted!!! 🥳🥳🥳

[SAXON]: WTF!!!! DUDE THATS AMAZING!!!!

[SAXON]: WE GOTTA CELEBRATE!! 🍾🍹❄️💃

[LOCHY]: *Lochy disliked a message*

[LOCHY]: don’t love what the last two emojis are implying

[LOCHY]: and anyways im not going 

[SAXON]: WTF?! dude seriously what’s wrong with you

[LOCHY]: ummmm

[LOCHY]: we’re like so poor dude 

[LOCHY]: Mom and Dad scraped together whatever was left after the trial and investigation just so i could go to college

[LOCHY]: and then i had to get those scholarships, remember?

[SAXON]: first of all we’re not poor don’t be retarded

[SAXON]: we’re just in a different financial bracket than we used to be

[LOCHY]: 🤨

[SAXON]:  it’s not that big of a deal. they’ll just take out a loan or something

[LOCHY]: i don’t want them to do that for me

[SAXON]: *Saxon disliked a message*

[LOCHY]: sax i’ve thought about this rlly seriously

[LOCHY]: i kinda wanna go no contact with them and i can't do that if im still financially reliant on them

Saxon’s heart stops, he nearly drops his phone. Everything suddenly feels very small and distant from him, almost a little like he’s floating in the air. Him and Lochlan just got back on talking terms and now Lochlan wants to cut off their parents. What the hell is wrong with him?

[SAXON]: you’re joking

[LOCHY]: yeah maybe

[LOCHY]: idk 

Saxon fumbles, his fingers shaking as he hits the call button. No response, he tries again. Then again.

[LOCHY]: DUDE STOP

[LOCHY]: IM IN CLASS RN

[SAXON]: STFU

[SAXON]: ANSWER YOUR PHONE

[LOCHY]: …that’s an oxymoron

[SAXON]: idgaf answer the fucking phone

[LOCHY]: after class okay?

[LOCHY]: please sax?

Saxon can practically hear Lochlan’s voice through the text message, so small and soft and desperate. Fuck.

[SAXON]: fine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

When Lochlan does finally call him later it's almost nighttime. Saxon almost breaks his ankle tripping over his own feet to get to his phone

“I’m not cutting them off Saxon, probably not anyways.” Lochlan's voice is rushing out of his mouth, fast, defensive, and nervous.

“Uhh okay?” Saxon says, the room around him spinning. He’s so confused.

“I thought about it, and I really want to. But I don’t wanna pull a Piper you know?” Lochlan flounders.

“That would be really shitty,” Saxon agrees, but he can’t help but chuckle a little at Lochlan’s phrase pulling a Piper, “Especially when they used the last of their money on you going to college to get your Bachelor’s.”

“Exactly.” Lochlan sighs.

“But anyways, what’s wrong with you? Is this like a new gay liberal agenda thing? Cut off your parents even if they’ve never been abusive to you or some shit?”

“No Sax,” Lochlan says and his voice is barely above a whisper. 

“Then what is it?”

“I can’t say,” Lochlan says and Saxon can hear his voice shaking. He sounds distraught, Saxon feels nerves creeping over his skin, goosebumps raised.

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious Saxon, the phones….” he stammers, searching for the right words to say, “I don’t wanna say anything that’ll get Dad in any more trouble.”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Lochy…” Saxon chokes the words out, “are you okay?” 

He can’t think of what’s going on, what Lochlan could possibly know about their father that he didn’t, but if he feels like he needs to protect Dad from it, well…

“Yeah, yeah um I’m okay now. I just uh uh…” his voice trembles, then breaks. Saxon can hear Lochlan’s little breathy cries over the phone, “I just feel like I’m stuck in this family sometimes, Sax. I don’t wanna be here, fuck!”

Saxon heart breaks into a million little pieces.

“Hey hey hey,” Saxon mumbles into the phone, trying his best to sound comforting, “You’re not stuck, okay? You’re so smart and hardworking, you’re going find a really amazing job right out of college. A job far away from this stupid place and Mom and Dad and all this bullshit.”

“You think so?” Lochlan is breathing deeper now, trying to calm himself.

“I know so,” Saxon smiles, “once you add ‘teaches Seismology to retired frat bros’ to your resume every single science lab in North America will wanna hire you.”

“Yeah well, it’s not easy work but it’s honest work.” Lochlan giggles into the phone.

“Hey Lochy?”

“Yeah?’

“You didn’t call me after your class.” Saxon says, flushing with embarrassment as the words fall from his mouth. So needy.

“Oh yeah, about that…” Lochlan trails off, searching for an excuse. The embarrassment turns to humiliation inside of Saxon, burning up and turning him a tomato red, “I got caught up in something with someone, I’m sorry Sax. I called you as soon as I was free.”

Someone? A new boyfriend? 

“It’s okay,” it’s not, “What are you up to right now?”

“Oh uhhh,” Lochlan stammers into the phone, “you’re gonna make fun of me if I tell you.” 

“Maybe but you owe me one,” Saxon digs, trying to gain back some power, “can’t keep being all mysterious and secretive around me. I’m your brother, I’ll find out eventually, one way or the other.”

“Fine fine,” Lochlan sighs but Saxon can tell he’s smiling from the other side of the phone, “I’m about to play some Minecraft.”

“Minecraft? Seriously? I thought you were gonna lose interest in that game after you lost your virginity.”

“Ugh see this is why I don’t tell you anything,” Lochlan pouts. Saxon laughs.

“Whatever, okay okay, I’ll let you get to your little incel video games. Have fun bro.”

“Sax…?”

“Yeah?” 

“Do you wanna stay on the phone with me while I play?” Lochlan asks softly. “I remember the music used to help you fall asleep.”

Saxon’s body goes warm with love.

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

Lochlan tries not to think of either one of his first times too hard.

His first first time was with a woman. Thailand 2025, just a few months after he had turned eighteen. Drunk and high on a mysterious pill the older woman had given him earlier that night, he remembers the room spinning as he fucked into her. She felt good, almost comforting; as Lochlan pushed into her he was met with a warm, wet tightness that made his body shiver. She laughed at the sight of Lochlan taking her in, throwing her head back with enthusiastic joy that made Lochlan break into a grin himself. The scent of her jasmine perfume wafting over him, her porcelain skin smooth and soft under his touch.

He fucked her eagerly, unrestrained, feeling his confidence grow and overtake him as she moaned and sighed with each one of his thrusts. Her hand reached out, grabbing at his neck as he thrashed over her, squeezing tight. He instinctively jerked his head back, before bowing his head back down, letting her choke him, because that was normal right? That was something normal people did during sex, Saxon had talked about choking women so it must be. However, as he brought his head back down to meet her coffin-shaped nails, his eyes met a curled figure on the other side of the bed. Saxon, naked and sweating, an expression etched across his face that Lochlan had never seen before in real life. He looked so vulnerable.

Lochlan used to have a recurring nightmare after his family took a trip to the Grand Canyon during his freshman year of high school. In his nightmare they’d be back there, almost done with their hike, when Lochlan would realize Saxon wasn’t with them. He opened his mouth and alerted the others but they wouldn’t turn around. He tried again and again, his voice raising each time until he was screaming at the top of his lungs, his throat raw, aching, and desperate. But they’d keep walking, all the way up to the top. As they were throwing their backpacks into their car Lochlan would turn around, his gaze landing on a figure on the cliff opposite of them, miles and miles away. And despite the distance between them Lochlan would always recognize the figure as Saxon, and could always see his face so perfectly. Scared, desperate, and alone; begging for something that Lochlan couldn’t ever decipher, though it haunted him for years.

It was the same look Saxon was giving him now from the other side of the bed, begging for something Lochlan couldn’t quite put into words but was finally starting to understand.

In seconds Lochlan bridged the gap between them, his hand reaching over to the other side of the bed, stretching miles and miles across the canyon. He finds Saxon’s body and shivers at the feeling of his fingers flowing over his brother’s skin. He is instantly transported back in time to another vacation his family took while he was back in high school, this one to Rome. He remembered the Roman statues, sculpted muscular perfection; strong, ideal and sensual bodies, covered with elaborate folds and seemingly sheer material, begging to have you run your hands over them and challenge their realism. And now he was, his hand tracing Saxon’s curves, over his stomach, sinking lower and lower. His statue is alive and pulsating, his heart pumping rapidly in his chest (Lochlan swears he can hear it). As Lochlan begins to stroke his hand up and down on Saxon’s cock he lets out a noise so obscene Lochlan gasps in disbelief. He watches in amazement as he strokes Saxon’s cock in his hand, his eyes drinking in the sight of Saxon’s muscles straining in pleasure, his back arching, eyes now closed tight and head thrown back against his pillow. 

“Sax,” he whispers but what he wants to say is, “I’m here, I got you, I’m never letting you go.”

Saxon’s head turns to Lochlan at the sound of his voice, his blue eyes fluttering open. Lochlan watches in real time as the cogs turn in Saxon’s head, processing what’s happening between them. Realization hits him like a wave, his face twisting in shock, and Lochlan wonders if he’s made a mistake, if he’s miscalculated the situation. He’s about to pull away and apologize when the shock on Saxon’s face morphs into something more, something indescribable. His mouth opens up, wide and desperate, as if silently screaming for Lochlan to keep going. His body jerks up right, now almost sitting up as he twitches and spasms under Lochlan’s touch. Lochlan knows what’s coming, even though he’s never done this with another person before he can feel it in his bones. He wants to completely bridge the gap between them when it happens, wants to press his forehead against Saxon’s and kiss him until he passes out from lack of air. It takes everything in his body to restrain himself from doing so, the knowledge that Saxon would never forgive him for taking it that far the only thing holding him back.

When it happens it’s the most amazing thing Lochlan has ever seen. Saxon’s whole body shudders, jerking into Lochlan’s as his eyes go wide and a soft cry escapes from his lips. Lochlan can feel it, feel the control he has over his brother, his come dripping down Lochlan’s fingers as Lochlan feels his own body twitch in response. He comes, shaking with excitement and pleasure into Chloe as he watches Saxon coming down from his own orgasm. A wave of warmth washes over his body as his vision begins to blur and a soft smile stretches over his lips. It's the happiest he’s ever felt.

His first time with man, Brandon, is much different. He is completely gone on shitty beer and one of his fraternity brother’s dab pens, his vision blurry again but this time it’s not from tears of joy but more so that he’s teetering on the edge of blacking out. He somehow has ended up face down on the fraternity house’s basement carpet, the red synthetic fiber scratching against his face as his vision continues to blurs even more. He feels hands grabbing at him, pulling his clothes off, pulling him apart. His mouth opens, words weakly spilling out. 

Every time Lochlan comes back to this memory, try as he might not to, a small part of his brain always tries to remember what exactly he said. Was it Stop? No? Please don’t? Lochlan doesn’t think so, he didn’t not want it THAT badly. 

And anyways, it’s easier to live in a reality where the words were anything but that, so he does.

He feels it, the pain exploding through his body, feels himself shatter into a million little pieces, spread out across the carpeted floor. His vision goes from total darkness to a blinding white light, his body scorched and burning up in agony. It’s like someone reopening a stab wound with a dirty knife, plunging it deep inside and twisting all the way up into Lochlan’s stomach. 

He throws his head back, trying to get a glimpse of the man on top of him. He wasn’t bad looking, though Lochlan wasn’t sure he could focus long enough to make any sense of it. His hair was dirty blonde and slicked back, or at least it seemed that way, sharp and controlled. But it was his eyes—those cold blue eyes—that stuck in Lochlan’s mind. They didn’t blink. They didn’t look away. They just watched him, too sharp, too intent. Lochlan couldn’t tell if it was curiosity or something darker that hid behind them. His body was lean, but there was something off about it, something that made Lochlan’s head swim while he looked up at him. 

Saxon….

And as soon as he thinks it he can’t stop, can’t help himself.

Saxon Saxon Saxon Saxon Saxon Saxon….

His brain screams the name over and over, chanting it like a mantra as the man thrusts into Lochlan. He focuses on each letter; first the S —sharp, cutting through the stillness, curving into the a, which was soft and rounded, like the warmth of a touch, smooth and inviting. The x —an edge, a sharpness, jabbing into the o , open and full of possibility. And then the n —strong, resolute, a perfect ending to a perfect name for a perfect boy. A perfect boy that was on top of Lochlan right now, fucking him into the scratchy dirty carpet floor. 

Even in the moment, as drunk as Lochlan was, at least a small part of his brain knew the man on top of him wasn’t Saxon. But he clings to the idea like a life preserver. Looking back at the memory now Lochlan thinks it was in a certain way.

He wakes up the next morning with an aching soreness, feeling dirty and ashamed. He remembers, in horror, how he’d imagined it was Saxon fucking into him, not whatever grimy weird frat boy it had been in actuality. His stomach twists in nausea, wondering if he’d said his name aloud, wonders if the boy had heard him, if he now knew the true depths of Lochlan’s perversions. Saxon has also been in Kappa Alpha back in the day and was something of a legend. Every boy in the fraternity knew his name, and they all knew Lochlan was his little brother. If they knew what kind of brother Lochlan really was, if they had known what he had been thinking about last night, well ….

Lochlan calls Piper crying. He can’t tell her what happened, of course, it’s all too much to share. So he half-lies, tells her he drunkenly had his first time last night and it may-or-may not have been without protection. Tells her he doesn’t know, and that part is true. The lie is him blaming the alcohol on his lack of knowledge, but then again that still has some truth to it. It’s true enough that she buys it and that’s all that really matters. She picks him up in her sleek black Lincoln Navigator, a sympathetic smile on her lips as he opens in the passenger seat.

“You okay?” She asks softly, her eyes on the road as she drives him to the nearest sexual health clinic for testing.

“Yeah….” he mumbles, tears dried but still feeling disoriented and frazzled, “I thought you were a virgin? How do you know where this place is?”

Piper lets out an annoyed huff, eliciting a grin from Lochlan, “Don’t believe everything that stupid brother of yours says.”

“Hey! He’s your brother too,” Lochlan protests, but he’s giggling a little at Piper’s annoyance.

Lochlan’s tests come back clean, all negatives across the board, and he lets out a sigh, feeling himself relax a little bit. Then tries to focus on the next possible issue at hand.

He finds the dirty blonde boy in the dining hall, scooping white rice and chicken onto his plate. Lochlan phases innocence, pretending to not remember the night before as he sits down across from the boy. He’s surprisingly likable; ignorant, self-absorbed, but also somehow extremely charismatic. He’s funny and easy to talk to. Lochlan can’t help but find himself smiling at the boy’s playful jabs and smartass remarks as he scoops food into his mouth. And, best of all, it seems whatever Lochlan had said last night, whatever had gone down between them, wasn’t enough to paint Lochlan as some type of deviant fuck-up, at least not in this boy’s eyes.

Eventually the boy and him hook up again. Then again, then again. Lochlan wonders if there’s something wired in his brain that’s causing him to purposefully seek Brandon out as some form of a coping mechanism. Trying to gain a sense of power from the very person who took it from him. Other times he deludes himself into thinking what Brandon and he have is something romantic. After years of pining for his brother the universe has gifted him someone who looks and acts just like Saxon. It’s the next best thing, he tells himself, the best he can get without engaging in some kind of mortal sin. Nevermind the fact Lochlan knows Brandon is still just a placeholder for him, his brain still echoing Saxon’s name over and over again almost everytime Brandon and him are together.

 So it’s some weird form of karma, maybe the universe punishing him for not appreciating their gift enough, when Saxon sends Brandon home during his senior year Thanksgiving break with a bloody nose and a look of hatred in his eyes. And Lochlan’s so scared, he’s terrified that despite Brandon not saying anything for years, maybe Lochlan had cried out Saxon’s name during sex at one point. He wonders if he can go to Saxon and explain, maybe Saxon will do something, maybe he’ll be able to stop this-

No. 

Lochlan shakes his head in disbelief. Did he really just contemplate telling his brother that he thought about him everytime he and the guy Saxon had just punched in the face hooked up? He knows his brother already hates him, like truly resents him for what happened in Thailand years ago. And that was for something Lochlan had thought was requited, something he thought he was doing for Saxon out of his love for him, something he’d thought Saxon would love him back for. If he ever admitted his feelings for Saxon went beyond his disturbing levels of people pleasing he knew Saxon would knock Lochlan down just like he had with Brandon.

To his surprise, he doesn’t need to tell Saxon anything for him to take care of the situation.  Brandon is kicked from Kappa Alpha, along with a bunch of other brothers who are found to be involved with the “hazing” of new pledges, after an alumni anonymously whistle blows to the executive board. He is beyond relieved but also still nervous now that Brandon is no longer talking to him. 

“It’s official,” Saxon  declares over the phone to Lochlan after he’s back at Duke, “you’re not dating again until you’re thirty. Your taste in men is like absolute dogshit, dude.”

“You’re an asshole,” Lochlan spits back into the phone, “I know it was you who leaked that shit. Brandon won’t even talk to me anymore, by the way.”

“Good,” Saxon says, “he was horrible for you. A total douche, and that’s coming from me of all people.”

“Whatever,” Lochlan huffs but he’s trying not to smile, fighting his own mouth that’s twisting up into a grin, “you still suck.”

“Maybe, but you love me regardless.” 

Lochlan groans and hangs up the phone. He falls back onto his dorm bed, eyes tearing up with solace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saxon and him start texting everyday after that. Lochlan can’t believe it, thinks maybe he died at Thanksgiving dinner and is now in heaven. It’s so easy, nice, and simple how fast they fell back into talking terms after years of silence. And Saxon seems different now; more at peace, less interested in sex, less explicit and vugular, and, most pleasantly, he is more interested in Lochlan and his personal life than he ever has been, even before Thailand. Sometimes it’s so much it makes Lochlan blush with excitement. 

[LOCHY]: i applied for duke’s school for the environment

[LOCHY]: like for my master’s

[SAXON]: okay bro making big dog moves i see you

[LOCHY]: lol stop 

Lochlan smirks at his desk in class, hiding his face so no one can see how red he’s turning from something as stupid and trivial as a text from his brother. 

That night Saxon falls asleep while on the phone with Lochlan, his soft snores sending waves of happiness over Lochlan’s body. Before he flops into his bed he sends Saxon a quick message for him to wake up to in the morning. 

[LOCHY]: hey lol. hope you slept well. 😴 can i spend winter break at your place? i’ll explain to you the Dad stuff if you let me. plssss? 🥺 

He springs onto his bed, a smile creeping up on his face as he imagines getting to spend one-on-one time with Saxon for the first time in over four years. Maybe he’s getting himself into something he’ll eventually regret, but right now all he can focus on is the soft sound of Saxon snoring from his phone, drifting him off to a peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

Saxon doesn’t text Lochlan back.

Lochlan waits all day, checking his phone almost every five minutes, humiliation, shame,  and guilt writhing in his stomach each time he is met with a blank screen.

Did I ask for too much too fast? He wonders before the rest of his brain screams back a resounding, Yes, of course you did you weird freak.

He should’ve known this phase with Saxon was too good to be true, should know it would all come crashing down, that he’d do something to fuck it all up again. He was always doing this. His whole life he’d cling obsessively onto someone, grow attached, then completely misread some fundamental social cues no one had ever bothered filling him in on and lose that person completely. Growing up he had struggled to maintain friendships that lasted longer than two to four years.

Somewhere along the line, the intensity of his feelings would turn into something claustrophobic for the other person—he’d feel it in the way their texts would start to trail off, in how they would laugh a little too tightly at his jokes. Sometimes it just became complete radio silence. Sometimes it was confrontation, an attempt to set boundaries with Lochlan. But it always ended the same: Lochlan was too much. Lochlan was too needy. Lochlan was a burden to be dropped quietly. He had memorized the cycle of abandonment like a story he’d read too many times. So even when things felt good with Saxon—safe, almost easy again—a part of him still sat waiting for this exact thing to happen.

And it wasn’t the first time this had happened with Saxon. There had been Thailand of course. Thailand had been especially hard because he had lost both Saxon and Piper in one fell swoop. And he had been trying so hard to warp himself, mold himself into a person capable of their love.

He’d made out with girls, even had sex with one, and laughed at all his brother’s stupid jokes. Just for the trip to end with Saxon filled with resentment and disgust in Lochlan. With Piper he’d tried praying, visiting the monastery, meditating, even offered to join her in Thailand for a year. Yet, for some reason he still couldn’t quite understand, she’d grown distant and pushed him away at the end. And that had just been on their spring break. Over the last few years he had deleted posts, muted parts of himself, and practiced sounding more neutral when he spoke. Less reactive. Less crazy . He’d memorized the tone Saxon and Piper would use when they were disappointed in him and made mental checklists on how to avoid hearing them like that again. But it had never been enough with them. Not then. And probably not now.

By nightfall, Lochlan was curled on his bed, lights off, his phone face-down beside him like it was punishing him. He didn't want to check it again. Couldn’t stand the blankness of it.

Still, he did.

Nothing.

A sick, familiar heat bloomed in his chest—the kind that made him feel like he was floating above himself. Detached. Like he was watching some other version of Lochlan live out his life and make all the wrong decisions.

He opened Saxon’s text messages again, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. He could say sorry . Or nvm i actually just made plans with some friends . Or maybe even something as honest as i don’t want things to be weird between us again Saxon i’m rlly rlly sorry.

But instead, he backed out.

He scrolled.

Past his group chats. Past his classmates and the occasional Grindr hookups. He kept scrolling until he found a number that should’ve been deleted weeks ago.

Brandon’s.

The name alone made his stomach knot, but there was something comforting in the pain it brought—a twisted sense of gravity. It was a language his body still remembered, one so familiar he could make a home out of it.

His heart thudded wildly as he clicked on their messages. Nothing new, of course. Just the old dry texts. Just the wreckage of something that barely resembled a college situationship.

He stared at the screen for a long time, until it almost started to feel like he was frozen in place.

[L]: hey.

One word. Sent before he could stop himself.

As soon as it was delivered, Lochlan dropped the phone face-down again. Closed his eyes. And told himself this was better. Safer. 

He didn’t actually expect a response.

So when one came—three minutes later—his stomach dropped through the mattress.

[BRANDON]: lmao look who came crawling back

Lochlan stared at the screen, his heart beating out of his chest. He didn’t know what he’d been hoping for—maybe something neutral, something simple. Maybe just a hey back. Maybe that Brandon would give Lochlan a chance to pretend like his older brother hadn’t sent him home from Thanksgiving with a bloody broken nose.

But there it was. That tone. Sharp, smug, and self-absorbed. Like Brandon had been waiting for this since he drove off that day.

[BRANDON]: didn’t think you’d have the balls to ever talk to me again after everything 

[BRANDON]: guess i forgot how clingy you are lol

The words stung in that familiar, precise way—like they’d been aimed with the purpose of making Lochlan feel very, very small.

Lochlan chewed the inside of his cheek, feeling himself already starting to spiral. He should’ve never texted him. He should’ve blocked his number. But some pathetic part of him wanted this. He wasn’t scared. He could handle this. 

[L]: wasn’t trying to start anything up with you again. just felt weird. wanted to apologize for thanksgiving ig

The typing bubble appeared. Vanished. Reappeared.

[BRANDON]: k sure.  

[BRANDON]: miss me?

Lochlan didn’t answer right away. He felt sick to his stomach. But he didn’t put the phone down either. Sighing, he mustered up the best response he could think of.

[L]: i just wanted to apologize to you that’s all

[BRANDON]: don’t play dumb. you’re too smart to be acting this way.  

[BRANDON]: but it’s cute when you try to lie.

Lochlan read the messages over and over, each one wrapping tighter around his ribs. His body felt frozen, but his brain was screaming at himself— Why are you doing this? Why now? He didn’t know. He couldn’t explain it, not even to himself.

He hadn’t heard from Saxon. And that silence felt like Lochlan had committed some kind of sin. And the only way to cleanse himself was punishment. Or maybe he just wanted to feel like someone in his life was a constant. Even if the constant was something awful.

Brandon was awful. But he was predictable.

[BRANDON]: i’m in town, btw. i don’t leave for break until another couple days.

[BRANDON]: but you knew that. that’s why you texted me right?

Lochlan blinked at the screen.

He was still in town?

An old panic flared instantly—hot and animalistic. He sat up, heartbeat thrumming behind his eyes. 

[L]: i didn’t know  

[L]: i rlly wasn’t trying to do anything 

[L]: idk

[L]: im srry

[BRANDON]: calm down lmao  

[BRANDON]: jesus christ  

[BRANDON]: just thought you might wanna catch up  

[BRANDON]: let’s grab a drink or something.

A drink.

The last time they grabbed a drink, Lochlan ended the night crying in the parking lot behind a gas station, phone dead, waiting for a stranger to give him a ride home. He hadn’t told anyone about that. Not even Piper.

[BRANDON]: unless you’re too good for that now?  

[BRANDON]: is this rlly one of those “i’m just trying to get closure” texts?

[BRANDON]: lol

Lochlan’s chest tightened. His fingers hovered above the keyboard, unsure of what he wanted to say, unsure of what he wanted at all. He hated how easily Brandon could do this—flip the switch. Turn everything into a dare, into some kind of temptation.

[BRANDON]: just one drink lochy.  

[BRANDON]: we can talk about like normal people.  

[BRANDON]:  like adults.

The word normal scraped against something raw in him. So did adults . Brandon always did that—weaponized maturity, made Lochlan feel childish for reacting, for remembering, for bleeding too visibly.

But still.

The loneliness was unbearable tonight. Saxon still hadn’t texted back. Lochlan’s chest was hollow with it. And the thought of just laying in his bed surrounded by that silence—it was enough to make his skin crawl.

[L]: where?

[BRANDON]: that place by your dorm.  

[BRANDON]: the one with the cheap beer and the bad karaoke.  

[BRANDON]: you know the one.

He did. He remembered the way Brandon’s hand always felt on his thigh under the table. The way Brandon always chose a booth, always made Lochlan sit on the inside. The way the bartender never carded him.

He stared at the message.

Then, almost in a trance:

[L]: okay.

There was no response. None needed.

Lochlan got up. Put on a hoodie. Left the dorm without looking in the mirror.

By the time he stepped out into the night air, he already felt like a ghost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bar was louder than he remembered.

Cheap neon signs buzzed half heartedly over the sound of a Bon Iver song butchered by drunk karaoke. Someone was laughing too loudly in a booth near the back, but it was that hollow kind of laughter—forced and lonely, even in a crowd of people. Lochlan stood still, frozen in place, scanning.

And there he was.

Brandon.

Hair slightly longer. Same Southern Tide polo shirt he’d always loved wearing. Same unreadable half-smile. He raised a hand in mock salute like this was normal, like they were old friends who’d just lost touch—not someone that had been inside of Lochlan, pushing him down and making him take it more times than he could count.

Lochlan moved towards him like he was walking into a dream he’d had a hundred times.

Brandon slid a drink toward him before he could sit.

“Vodka cran,” he said. “Figured you hadn’t changed.”

Lochlan took it automatically. His fingers curled around the glass, gripping it tight, trying to keep himself from shaking.

“I didn’t know you were still in town,” he said quietly.

Brandon shrugged. “Didn’t know I owed you a memo.”

Lochlan winced, but Brandon’s smile softened immediately.

“I’m kidding,” he said, nudging his shoulder lightly against Lochlan’s. “It’s good to see you, L. Seriously.”

He hadn’t heard Brandon call him that in what seemed like forever.

Lochlan took a sip. The drink burned, but not enough. “Why are you here?”

Brandon tilted his head. “Why’d you text me?”

Lochlan didn’t have an answer. Or maybe he had too many. He focused on the condensation sliding down the side of his glass.

Brandon leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something more intimate. “I missed you, you know.”

Lochlan swallowed hard.

“I uh… fucked up, yeah,” Brandon went on. “But it wasn’t all that bad. You can’t pretend it was.”

“I’m not trying to,” Lochlan said, too fast, too defensive.

Brandon’s smile widened. “That’s what I thought. You still get me L, probably better than anyone else actually.”

And Lochlan hated how warm that made him feel. Hated how fast his heart was racing, how dizzy he felt under that harsh blue gaze—like Brandon could still see him so clearly, in all the worst ways.

They talked over another drink, then another. Brandon told a story about one of his finals gone horribly wrong that made Lochlan laugh before he remembered he wasn’t supposed to. Brandon leaned, knees brushing under the table like it was accidental.

It wasn’t and Lochlan knew that.

By the end of the second drink, Lochlan felt like he was floating outside himself again. But he didn’t try to leave, at this point he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

“Let me walk you back to your dorm,” Brandon said casually, like it was a habit, like it was owed to Lochlan. Like he was worth enough that he should get home safe.

Lochlan hesitated.

Brandon raised an eyebrow. “Unless you have a problem with that.”

“No,” Lochlan said quietly. “No I don’t.”

He doesn’t remember them leaving the bar. Just the streetlamps blurring past and the quiet hum of cars on the road. Brandon’s presence beside him, fuzzy like static.

When they reach the dorm building, Brandon doesn’t ask to come up.

He doesn’t have to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was cold when Lochlan woke.

Pale gray filtered through the blinds, soft and sterile, like the world outside was already over for him. He blinked against it, eyes dry, head pounding—not just from the drinks, there was something deeper, duller. The bed shifted behind him.

He didn’t turn.

Brandon’s arm was draped over his waist, fingers splayed possessively against the soft hem of Lochlan’s sweatpants. His breath was slow, even—still asleep, maybe, or just pretending.

Lochlan stared at the wall.

He couldn’t remember the exact moment he’d stopped fighting. The night blurred in certain places—just heat and hands, words that said, wide and heavy. A smile that twisted when he tried to say no, but not loud enough. Or maybe he hadn’t said it at all.

Maybe he’d just let it happen again.

He shifted slightly, and Brandon’s grip tightened instinctively. His stomach turned.

There were faint marks on his hips. Lochlan registered them dimly, the way someone might notice bruises on a stranger. His body felt borrowed. Not hurt—just hollow. Like someone had come in during the night and cleaned everything out without asking.

He pulled away, carefully, inch by inch, until Brandon’s hand slipped off his waist and hit the mattress with a soft thud.

The floor was cold against his feet. He found his hoodie on the chair, slipped it over his head, suddenly self-conscious.

Behind him, Brandon stirred. “Where are you going?”

Lochlan didn’t answer. Just picked up his phone from the desk where it had been face-down all night.

[SAXON]: hey lochy.  

[SAXON]: i’m so sorry bro i thought i replied to you

[SAXON]: i would’ve checked but it got hella busy at work yesterday

[SAXON]: if you still wanna come for break i’d be down 

[SAXON]: i wanna see you dude. 

[SAXON]: and i want you to feel safe.

[SAXON]: idk what’s going on with the Dad stuff but you can always talk to me

[SAXON]: or whatever. i don’t want to pry.

[SAXON]: either way you should def come over for break

Brandon sat up, yawning. “C’mon, get back in bed. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Lochlan flinched at the casualness of it. The assumption.

“Okay sure,” He says in a voice that’s barely above a whisper, letting Brandon pull him back in.

Chapter Text

Saxon hadn’t been lying when he said he’d been busy at work.

On bad days work made him feel twitchy; trapped, suffocating under the weight of papers and spreadsheets that never seemed to end. After Timothy’s arrest years ago Saxon had been forced to hustle, hitting up every single one of his fraternity brothers and even making a fucking LinkedIn profile until he had found something that stuck. One of his fraternity brothers had eventually reached out, gotten him a job working as a financial analyst for various elected officials which wasn’t that different from what he was doing beforehand. Money and politics, it was all the same at the end of the day. Just more work and stress for much less pay now. He still made more than what the average person in North Carolina made, that he knew, but it was still so much less than what he had made before his father’s arrest.

Luckily he’d managed to keep a lot in his savings from living with his parents after college. Their house had been spacious and neither one of his parents had ever been too nosey or annoying where he’d felt the need to move into his own place. His plan was always to save up and wait until he had found a nice girl to settle down with, then he’d buy them a nice house on a lake. This is what he had told people at least.

After Timothy had been arrested however, living in that house became unbearable. Without his Dad it had felt more empty and haunted than spacious and luxurious. And with just his mother there it had gotten to a point where Saxon had been itching to move out. He loved her but she had become a mess, constantly spiraling and drunk on expensive wine. It was embarrassing and depressing to a point Saxon couldn’t stand to see her on a day to day basis. So he moved out, found a nice apartment in downtown Durham, and tried his best to take care of her from afar.

The apartment he had found wasn’t exactly his style, but it was close enough to his parents house, Piper’s apartment, and only a three minute drive to Duke in case any of his family members ever needed him (not that any of them ever reached out). A modern unit in a building full of young professionals and college students trying to look like they had their lives together. It had clean spaces, smooth surfaces, and a kind of polished anonymity that made it easy to pretend everything inside it had been chosen on purpose.

The living room opened into the kitchen without much ceremony—just a slight shift in flooring and the wallpaper. It had come with a couch; soft gray, cushy, and low to the ground. He’d thrown a dark knit blanket over one end and never used it. The coffee table he had added was made of dark wood, sleek and square, stacked with a few unread issues of The Economist and a coaster set he never bothered with. Mounted above the TV was a floating shelf with a couple of the books that Chelsea had given him, a bottle of bourbon he kept for guests he never had, and framed photos of him and various family members at college football games, on vacation, and enjoying the holidays. He usually tried not to look at them for too long.

The kitchen had a long quartz island with bar stools that were too uncomfortable to sit in for more than a few minutes. It was one of the reasons he ate standing up most of the time. The appliances were stainless steel, spotless more from neglect than effort, and the overhead lighting cast everything in a pale, impersonal glow. His meal prep containers took up half the fridge. The other half was just sparkling water, meat, fruit, and vegetables. A row of protein powders were organized alphabetically in the pantry next to a fully-stocked liquor shelf. The irony didn’t escape him. 

His bedroom was the only part that looked lived in, and even that was generous. A king-sized bed with black sheets and an unremarkable headboard. Two matching nightstands, one completely empty and the other with a phone charger, lamp, and a prescription bottle he kept tucked just out of sight. The closet was neat, color-coded almost, but only because he wore the same outfits on rotation: polo shirts, tailored slacks, and his gym clothes. His gym bag in the corner stayed packed, he tried to make a habit of working out at the apartment complex’s gym everyday after work.

It wasn’t that he liked it, exactly. But it was enough. Quiet. Clean. The kind of place you didn’t have to explain to anyone.

And it was a five minute drive to Shooters II, a lively and sometimes rowdy nightclub, often overcrowded with the younger undergrad Duke students. It had been Saxon’s favorite place to go when he had been at Duke, now going there it just made him feel a little like a creep. Still, when he was desperate enough it was worth it when he wanted to pick up a younger, blonde college girl. Creepiness aside, there was something validating in it, having a young beautiful woman to take home. It made him feel good, normal. This is what I’m supposed to be doing , he’d tell himself, just until I find one to settle down with. 

And yet, he had never found himself craving anything more than one-night stands with any of the women he brought home. Occasionally a woman would want something more but he’d always struggled in relationships. Most lasted him just a month or two before the woman would cut it off, calling him a scumbag and a loser as she slammed the door shut on his face.

But the one-night stands were fine with Saxon, they really were. Or they were during his college years and the first five years after college. Ever since Thailand though, something had felt off. The one-night stands now felt awkward, performative, and unsatisfying. They had always felt performative to some degree but Saxon had been good at it, had been good in bed, and the women he was with almost always made him feel good. Now there was an emptiness to it, it was almost as if something was missing. It drove Saxon wild, scratching at his brain the whole time he’d be with any of the women he’d bring home, distracting him. He knew he was being so in his head about it that it was affecting the women too, which was just embarrassing. 

So he found himself hooking up with women less and less. And on the rare occasion he did, each time was somehow more disappointing than the last. It was just because he was getting older, he told himself.

Tonight though, he knew he needed a release. Work had been so stressful and busy, he needed a way to blow off some steam and it had been so long since the last time he had gotten laid. So after work and a quick workout he got ready and headed to Shooters II. After a few hours, and despite his desperation and wearing his best cologne, Saxon seemed to have struck out. Any women he had tried to talk to would just glare at him as if he had grown two heads and sneer in disgust, leaning over and whispering to their friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was already almost 2am and Saxon had drank so much, more than he had planned too. He decided to call it quits when he noticed a man walking towards him. He was younger, but so was everyone at this club. If Saxon had to guess he'd estimate he was a junior or senior in college. He had soft, plump pink lips with striking blue eyes and curly brown hair. He was muscular but not too much that he wouldn’t be classified as anything other than a twink. His skin was so clear and smooth it looked airbrush, giving him an angelic and otherworldly glow. 

Damn, thought Saxon, he’s hot. If he were a girl I’d totally-

He cuts the thought off before his brain could finish it. He’s not that drunk.

“Hey.” The man says, smiling up at Saxon, “you look like you do something important.”

“Yeah,” Saxon laughs, “I get overpaid to stare at my computer and make spreadsheets all day.”

“Ohhh,” he smirks, “Finance?”

“Yeah,” Saxon nods and he can’t help but smile back at the man.

“So what I’m hearing is money,” he draws out, still smirking as he leans in close to Saxon, “and that you maybe make a lot of it.”

“Maybe,” Saxon says and he’s blushing, why is he blushing?

“Well you sound like someone I should be acquainted with then, my name’s Noah.”

The conversation continues and the guy is totally flirting with him, Saxon wasn’t born yesterday. He feels like he’s treading dangerous water, something is twisting in his stomach. Make him feel nauseous but also a little bit excited. He should rebuff the guy and make it clear that he does not swing that way, but something stops him. He’s bored and horny and this guy is cute (because Saxon’s might be straight but he’s not blind) and a great conversationalist. 

It isn’t until Noah goes to kiss him that Saxon stumbles backwards, a knee jerk reaction.

“Sorry,” he says blushing even harder than before, “I’m straight.”

“No worries,” Noah shrugs, still smiling, “I figure you were but I’d killed myself if I didn’t at least give it a try. It’s a numbers game, you know?”

“Yes! Exactly!” Saxon gleefully nods. Wow this guy gets it!!

“Anyways,” he says, laughing at Saxon’s enthusiasm, “you’re a smart guy. Handsome too.  You’re going to make some woman very happy someday.”

“Thanks,” Saxon blushes again, he swears this guy has made him more flustered than any women he’s ever talked to.

“Anyways,” Noah says and starts to turn around, “It was nice meeting you.”

“Wait,” Saxon says before he can stop himself, reaching out, his fingers brushing the man's shoulder.

The guy turns to look back at Saxon. Saxon’s stomach drops, he doesn’t know what to do, he’s never done this kinda thing before.

“Um sorry,” he mumbles, looking at the floor in embarrassment, “I, um, uh–”

“You’re not that kind of guy, sure,” Noah begins to smirk again.

“No, honestly I’m not. You’d be my first.” 

My first what? Guy? There’s no way I’m considering this right now, I’m way too drunk, I’ve gotta be, I’m–

“Hmmm,” Noah says, squinting, as if trying to decide if Saxon is lying to him or not. And then, “okay.”

“Okay what?” Saxon says and he feels dizzy and on fire. This isn’t real.

“Okay let’s go back to your place.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Saxon shuts his apartment door Noah is on him. Has him pressed up against the door, hands on his shoulders, kissing him with this passionate desperation. One of Noah’s hands moves to his hair, pulling on it in the most delicious way. Saxon moans into his mouth. It feels good, like, really good. Like, Saxon can’t believe kissing someone could ever possibly feel this good. He wonders if kissing men usually feels this good, he’s only ever done this kind of thing once before with

Lochlan. 

He slams his head back against the door in shock from the memory of the Full Moon Party flying at him with full force. Noah looks at him like he’s grown a second head.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Saxon shakes his head a little bit, “Just got a little over excited that’s all.

Noah laughs and moves back in to kiss him. Saxon moves his own hand up to Noah’s hair, wants to return the favor because fuck that felt good. His hair, Saxon realizes with a start, feels just like Lochlan’s, curly and soft. And the way Noah’s hand in his hair had felt was just like how Lochlan’s had that night when they were on the beach. It made Saxon feel hot, melty, and itched his brain and body in a way no woman's hands ever had.

Kissing him had felt good too, Saxon remembers.

It had also made him feel hot and itchy. But in the moment it felt so much more than that, it felt like something that was finally clicking into place. For the first time in his life, kissing someone had made Saxon feel more than just horny, it had made him feel complete. Like him and Lochlan were always meant to be doing this with each other, like they had been made for it. Like Saxon had finally found what he’d been searching for his whole life.

Somewhere between these thoughts and Saxon’s relentless moaning, he and Noah had ended up on Saxon’s bed. Saxon’s shirt was off and Noah was moving down his body, planting little kisses over his stomach as he crept further south. And Saxon couldn’t help himself, Noah’s hair looked just like Lochlan’s. He practically expected to see his brother’s face when Noah looked up at him.

“Stop,” he choked out.

Noah instantly jumped off Saxon, moving off the bed.

“Sorry,” Saxon groaned, face in his hands. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“No worries,” Noah smiled softly down at Saxon from where he lay on the bed, “do you wanna talk about it?”

“There was someone,” he said. “You weren’t technically the first I guess, there was one other guy. It was a long time ago. We were in Thailand. It was just this one night. It wasn’t supposed to happen, it was just one of those kinds of things that did. But it can’t ever happen with him again.”

There was another pause, and then Noah gently said, “Sounds like maybe whatever that night was supposed to happen. It had to mean something if you’re thinking about him again now, right?”

Saxon didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The knot in his throat was too thick, too raw. He didn’t want to cry in front of this man—this stranger who suddenly looked too much like his little brother.

Noah stood, gathering his things without making a show of it. “You’re just figuring things out,” he said, his voice kind. “That’s allowed. Don’t be too hard on yourself, alright?”

Saxon nodded, barely.

And then Noah was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the apartment fell silent again. It was so quiet Saxon could hear the blood pulsing in his ears. He sat up slowly, staring at the empty space where Noah had been. Everything in him felt scorched and strange, like he’d been turned inside out.

Saxon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

He didn’t know if it was regret or something else clawing at his chest. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop thinking about Lochlan.

Lochlan! 

Saxon remembered he had texted him earlier that day. He'd meant to reply earlier, while he had at work. He jumped up from his bed, stumbling over to where he’d left his phone.

[LOCHY]: hey lol. hope you slept well. 😴 can i spend winter break at your place? i’ll explain to you the Dad stuff if you let me. plssss? 🥺 

Saxon feels his heart fucking melt. He is still drunk and his mind is racing, he defintely shouldn’t be making any decisions right now. He types back a reply so fast he thinks his thumbs are going to break.

This is a bad idea , he thinks, this is probably actually a really really bad idea.  

But whatever, that’s a problem for tomorrow’s Saxon.

Chapter Text

Despite Duke being a fifteen minute walk from Saxon’s apartment he still insisted on picking Lochlan up in his dark gray Tesla.

Their parents had a deal in their household that after the kids got their respective acceptance letters and chose their college they’d reward them with any car of their choosing. Piper had chosen a sleek black Lexus RX for its lack of emissions, energy usage, and exhaust pollutants. Saxon has chosen a Model S Plaid Tesla because he thought it looked cool and he knew his friends would think so as well. Lochlan, who had put off accepting his Duke offer until after the family got back from Thailand and found out they were bankrupt, got nothing. 

He had said he didn’t mind walking and for the last four years Saxon couldn’t have cared less. But now that they were back on speaking terms Saxon thought offering Lochlan a ride was the least he could do. He had all his bags he had to haul and Saxon knew it would be embarrassing for a kid to be seen dragging his suitcase a mile to his older brother’s apartment complex. 

Besides, guilt was starting to creep up into Saxon’s consciousness after the events of the night before. He tried his best to shove it down, that wasn’t real after all, it wasn’t really him. Sometimes stuff would happen to Saxon or he’d do things but it was more of a character than the real him. Different versions of himself that existed in different realities. Like the reality where he would watch gay porn occasionally after one of his fraternity brothers had shown him a video as a joke. Or the reality where he had kissed Lochlan in Thailand. Or last night. It might have seeped into Saxon’s current reality, but it wasn’t really real . Not real like this version of himself right now at least, being a good brother, picking up Lochlan from his college.

As Lochlan stumbled out of his dorm and towards his car, Saxon could tell Lochlan had gone out and gotten drunk the night before as well. He looked incredibly hung over; dark shades covering his face, hoodie thrown half-heartedly over pajama pants, and head low hanging in shame. Saxon couldn’t help but chuckle, reminiscing on his own college days which included many days spent hungover and embarrassed. 

His amusement stopped, however, as Lochlan got close enough to open the car door.

“Is that a fucking hickey?!” Saxon yanked down the collar of Lochlan’s hoodie, a gasp eliciting from his lips, “Fuck dude, did someone run over your neck with their car or something?”

Lochlan’s neck was covered in them, all various shades of bruised purples and reds.

“Stop,” Lochlan snapped, slapping Saxon’s hand away, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t wanna hear about it,” Saxon muttered, pulling the car out of its parking spot, “You look like shit by the way.”

“Thanks,” a smile curled onto Lochlan’s face, seemingly against his own will. He took off his sunglasses slowly, self consciously. His eyes were red and watery, almost as if he had been crying recently.

“You okay?” Saxon asked softly, looking away from Lochlan and back onto the road.

“Yeah totally,” Lochlan affirmed, a little too chipper, “Where are we going by the way? I’m starving.”

“Seraphine,” Saxon said, a smirk slipping onto his face.

Lochlan turned to look at Saxon in surprise, “You’re joking.”

Saxon laughed, “No, why would I be joking about where we’re eating?”

“Because that place is like so expensive,” Lochlan protested, “And I’m not dressed for it. I’m literally in my PJs, Sax.”

“Yeah I figured you’d be,” Saxon smiles, “we can go back to my place and change first.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay ready,” Lochlan calls out, walking from out of Saxon’s bathroom.

He had ended up choosing a black turtleneck that covered his neck and navy blue pinstripe slacks. They’re baggy on him and he has to have a belt to keep them from falling down but he still looks amazing. Saxon bites the inside of his cheek a little and turns away.

“Great,” he says, “Let’s go.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They get the outdoor seating because Saxon knows it’s a thousand times nicer than the indoor seating. The outdoor seating was wedged between the restaurant’s red-brick walls and the hum of the city. There’s a canopy of string lights that give off a soft romantic glow, contrasting beautifully against the already dark night sky. White tables sat scattered across the brick-paved ground, their surfaces cool and clean beneath the flicker of the candle that was placed on each table. Ferns and potted palms framed the space like an overgrown garden trying to reclaim its place between steel and concrete. A stone fountain murmured gently in the middle.

Above them, the lights stretched from beam to beam like constellations hanging too low, and the air held that early-night warmth—still carrying the same heat from the day but softer now, gentler. When the waiter comes, Saxon orders Lochlan the DRUM 75, a floral and sparkling drink with hibiscus, yuzu, and falernum. He orders himself two lagers. 

“You’ll like it,” he promises, as the waiter walks away, “it’s fruity like you.”

“Ugh,” Lochlan groans rolling his eyes but he’s smiling, “you suck. You could’ve just ordered me a vodka cran.”

“No, I know you,” Saxon insists, “you’ll like this one better.”

“Whatever,” Lochlan says, sipping his water, “I don’t think I’ve been here since Dad’s investigation.”

“You haven’t,” Saxon nods, “but it’s okay I remember what you always used to get.”

Lochlan beams.

And Saxon does remember. When the waiter comes back with their drinks Saxon orders him the chicken breast with the lemon caper cream and himself the blackened striped bass. He gets him the banana pudding for dessert.

“I’ll pay you back,” Lochlan quips nervously as the waiter takes their menu.

“No you won’t,” Saxon scoffs, smiling, “you’re broke.”

“I thought we were just in a different tax bracket,” Lochlan grins, calling back to what Saxon would say whenever their financial struggles got brought up. 

“Yeah Mom and Dad are,” Saxon agrees, “but you? Broke af, dude.”

Lochlan shrugs, blushing.

“Whatever, don’t even worry about it, seriously,” Saxon says, “it’s my treat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you at least using protection?” Saxon asks when they’re both about half done with their respective dinners. 

Lochlan almost chokes on his food. Saxon laughs.

“I thought you didn’t wanna know about that kind of stuff,” Lochlan mutters, his face turning a beet red, “and you always said that protection was for beta men who never perfected their pull out game.”

“Yeah but that’s for women,” Saxon smirks across the table at Lochlan, who is currently scraping his fork across his plate self-consciously, “Men are way grosser. Those guys probably have a bunch of diseases and shit. If you’re going to let yourself get passed around like a twink in a Fraternity X video you might as well be safe about it.”

Lochlan’s stops scraping his fork along his plate.

“How do you know what Fraternity X is?”

Saxon stops smiling, suddenly feeling like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Uh, um, I don’t know,” he stutters out, “Your stupid gay ass probably mentioned jerking off to it at one point or something.”

“Right,” Lochlan says with the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

“Shut up,” Saxon mutters, stabbing his bass with his fork, “before I smack the shit out of you.”

“No, no I believe you,” Lochlan laughs, “It would actually be crazy if Mom and Dad failed so hard at parenting they couldn’t get even one of their kids to be straight.”

“Piper’s not gay.”

“Whose apartment do you think she’s living in right now?” Lochlan pries.

“Ummm Bethany’s. Her best friend from college, duh,” Saxon replies.

“They’ve been dating for like years now dude,” Lochlan giggles.

“No fucking way,” Saxon protests, “How come nobody ever told me?!”

“You like actively tell me not to talk about my gay shit,” Lochlan rolls his eyes, exasperated, “And you drop slurs like all the time.”

“Whatever, it’s not like I’ve ever called you one.” 

“You literally just called me fruity earlier,” Lochlan protests, but he’s still laughing.

“That’s different,” Saxon argues, “I’d never call you a faggot like Brandon does.”

“Brandon called me that?” Lochlan’s voice suddenly sounded very very small.

Saxon feels his stomach drop and twist over itself in upset.

“Fuck, sorry I thought–” he stammers, “I don’t know what I was thinking. Sorry Lochy, I shouldn’t have brought that up, that was stupid of me.” 

“Yeah,” Lochlan whispers, looking like he’s trying not to cry. Saxon wants to punch himself.

“Well whatever,” Saxon says, trying to lighten the mood, “I got rid of him for you so you don’t have to deal with that crap anymore. No need to thank me by the way.” 

Lochlan nods, looking down at his plate quietly. 

Saxon pays the check quietly and takes the banana pudding for Lochlan to go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at Saxon’s apartment, Lochlan goes to take a shower. Saxon, having already changed into his Ralph Lauren pajama pants and a sleep shirt, clicks through his different streaming services until he finds what he’s looking for on Disney+. A mini docuseries about tsunamis, he remembered it being Lochlan’s favorite before he had started college. He clicks play on the miniseries, then pauses it as the opening credits start to appear on the screen. He trots over to the island where he’s put his work computer. Lochlan might be on winter break but he still has work. He might be off the clock right now but he wants to get a head start on his work. Maybe if he does enough tonight while they watch tv together he can leave work early tomorrow and spend more time with Lochlan.

“Hey,” Lochlan says, stumbling into the living room. He has on a Duke t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair still sopping wet from his shower. He looks like a little puppy that just had a bath, Saxon thinks holding back a chuckle. Then frowns at the bizarre thought.

“Hey,” Saxon replies back and Lochlan looks up across the room at him. Freezing as he sees Saxon’s face.

“When did you start wearing glasses?”

“Oh,” Saxon mumbles, his fingers flying to his frames, self-consciously fidgeting with them, “they’re just for reading.”

He had started needing them a year ago when he and Lochlan weren’t on talking terms.

“Okay,” Lochlan says sweetly, “well they look nice.”

Saxon feels himself blush.

“Whatever,” he scoffs, “go watch your little show I put on for you. Your pudding is on the coffee table.”

“I can eat it on the couch?!” Lochlan asks and Saxon laughs at the excitement in his voice.

“Yeah dude it’s not like I can afford one of Mom’s 7th Avenue couches. I don’t care if you spill or make a mess. Make yourself at home.”

“Awesome!” Lochlan exclaims plopping down on the couch. Saxon feels his body melt a little bit over it.

“No way, you remembered how much I loved this series.” Lochlan grins and Saxon rolls his eyes.

“Of course, you were so fucking annoying about it when it came out, must’ve made us all watch it a thousand times.”

Lochlan gives a little squeal of delight and the narrator begins to talk in the background. Saxon feels something rise up in his stomach. He pushes it down and looks back at his computer. 

“You were right by the way,” Lochlan says a little bit later.

“About what?”

“That drink you ordered me was way better than a vodka cran.” 

“See? I told you I-” Saxon grins, looking up from his computer and then stops.

Lochlan was eating the pudding slowly, lazy, his body sprawled across the couch with his shirt riding up, exposing his bare stomach still wet from the shower. His lips were glossy, cream leaking out of the corner of his mouth. The spoon slipped in and out with a quiet little hum of approval from Lochlan as it did. The kind of sound that wasn’t supposed to be sexual but definitely was.

Saxon’s stomach twisted.

“Jesus,” he muttered, trying to sound annoyed, eyes darting back down to his computer screen, anything to distract himself.

“What?” Lochlan asked, genuinely confused, Saxon glanced across the room where he was looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes—and then taking another bite without breaking eye contact.

Saxon looked away fast again, heart lurching in a way that was humiliatingly noticeable.

“You always eat pudding like that?”

Lochlan raised a brow. “Like what?”

“Like…” He hesitated, realizing how ridiculous he sounded. “I don’t know. Forget about it.”

“Okay.” Lochlan giggles.

What the hell is wrong with me?   Saxon wonders, trying to refocus on his work in front of him. He doesn’t look back up at Lochlan for the rest of the documentary.

Chapter Text

It’s a few mornings into winter break when Saxon asks him about the Dad thing.

Well not directly , but he might have as well. Lochlan had kept making Saxon’s protein shakes for breakfast every morning, even after everything that had happened in Thailand. He just couldn’t help it, he had tried at first to make other things for breakfast; cereal, pancakes, eggs, and toast. But the years they had gone without speaking to each other had hit Lochlan so hard, he had been burning up in desperation to be close to Saxon somehow, anyhow. So he had gone back to the shakes. There was something soothing in cutting up the fruits, measuring out the protein powder, and the whirr of the blender mixing the ingredients together until they blurred into something that was one. He liked to imagine Saxon making his shakes when he did this, imagining him committing to the same movements, the same process. It had made him feel connected to him in the only way that felt okay at the time, with Lochlan having fucked up everything else between them.

But the incident in Thailand had not left Lochlan unaffected. Anytime he made a shake he committed to washing the blender thoroughly–not once, not twice, usually three times but sometimes even more. If he didn’t he’d get this sharp buzzing in his head and tight feeling in his chest—sometimes it really felt like he was dying all over again. He knew it was just anxiety, that he was probably just having panic attacks, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it. The only thing that did was washing the blender three, four, and sometimes, on really bad days, five times. Lochlan knew it was pathetic but he couldn’t help himself. 

So eventually Saxon notices.

“What the fuck is wrong with you dude,” he laughs, swiping the blender out of Lochlan’s hands as he scrubs it in the sink, “are you like purposefully trying to raise my utility bill?”

“No!” Lochlan cries, trying to grab the blender out of Saxon’s hands, “I’m not done with it!”

Saxon is too tall for Lochlan to reach it though, and he smirks down at him, triumphantly holding the blender just out of Lochlan’s reach, “like hell you aren’t.”

And Lochlan can already hear the buzzing noise, can already hear his heart pounding rapidly, his chest tightening, his vision going blurry. He can hear his own breaths coming out in short bursts, like he’s gasping for air. He’d be mortified to be acting like this in front of his brother if it wasn’t suddenly so hard to breathe.

“Hey hey Lochy,” Saxon’s face dropped instantly, “you okay? What’s going on?”

“Just let me have the fucking blender, please,” Lochlan’s begs Saxon, practically sobbing out.

“Jesus, yeah, okay,” Saxon says, quickly handing it down to Lochlan, who immediately goes back to scrubbing it in the sink through his tears. 

Saxon stands there in shock, frozen to the ground.

“Do you wanna like, talk about it or something?” he asks slowly, cautiously.

Lochlan sets the blender down, hands now raw and red from being under the hot sink water for so long. He lets his shoulders drop, defeated. He doesn’t want to talk about it with Saxon, he doesn’t want to bring up anything that happened in Thailand, scared that it might make Saxon angry about that part of their vacation again. And he doesn’t want to risk it, doesn’t want to do anything that could possibly jeopardize their relationship again.  

But he did promise Saxon he’d tell him.

“Yeah um, I…” he trails off, feeling dizzy, “I think I just need to sit down first. Or maybe lay down.”

He starts to stumble over to the couch, which also doubled as a pullout bed he’d been sleeping on the last few days, but Saxon stops him.

“If you want you can lay down on my bed,” he offers softly, “it’s more comfortable.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Lochlan has finally calmed down and stopped crying Saxon sits down on the other side of the bed, looking over at Lochlan with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

“You know you don’t have to talk about it, not if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Lochlan croaks, reaching for a glass of water on the bed stand that Saxon had given him a few minutes ago, “I need to. I promised you that I’d tell you about the Dad stuff anyways.”

Saxon nodded slowly, “Okay.”

Lochlan takes a deep breath, “You know how on the last day Thailand I got like, really really sick?”

“Yeah,” Saxon says, his body noticeably tensing up at the word Thailand, and Lochlan wants to die a little bit.

“And then we got back home and I was still having problems? Like how I was throwing up everything I was eating and I couldn’t keep anything down? It lasted for a week, I knew something was up, but Mom and Dad just kept insisting that I just had really bad food poisoning.” 

“I remember,” Saxon mumbles softly, brow furrowed like he had never really given Lochlan’s condition after Thailand a second thought until now, not that Lochlan could blame him.

“Well, like I said I knew something was going on Sax, I fucking knew it,” Lochlan swears quietly, voice shaky, “So when Mom and Dad visited me for my 21st birthday a year ago I made Dad go with me out to all the bars, got him plastered.”

Saxon laughs, it’s such a beautiful sound Lochlan can’t help but smile, warmth spreading throughout his body.

“You’re crazy.”

“Yeah, but uh, it was worth it,” Lochlan continues, his tone grave, his throat starting to feel tight, “I confronted him, told him I knew something had been going on in Thailand. With me, with the shake. That there was no way it was just a real bad case of fucking food poisoning.”

There’s a long pause. Lochlan’s not sure he can continue.

“And?” Saxon prodds, it’s soft, gentle, but Lochlan still feels terrified.

“Promise you’ll believe me?” he whispers.

“I promise,” Saxon swears and it feels like he’s holding out his hand, Lochlan clings to it, taking the leap of faith.

“Um, so uh, I guess he knew about the FBI raid and the uh, investigation…he knew it was bad, like really bad. He knew when we got back from Thailand we were going to lose everything, that he was going to go to prison for at least a year, maybe more,” Lochlan reaches over to the glass of water, swallows a little bit, takes a deep breath, and continues.

“But anyways, I guess the way we were acting…there was like some stuff we did and uh said? I’m not sure, I can’t remember what it was exactly…but uh, he didn’t think we could do it.”

“Do what?”

“Like live,” Lochlan pushes the words out through his throat, fuck this is hard, “He didn’t think think we would be able to survive without his money.”

“What…what do you mean?” Saxon whispers.

“He had put seeds from that fruit that was growing around the resort,” Lochlan mustered out, his voice barely audible, “the poisonous one, uh, he uh, put it in the pina coladas.” 

“What the fuck…” Saxon exclaims, breathlessly.

“You said you would believe me!” Lochlan whips his head over to look at his brother and Saxon returns Lochlan’s gaze. It looks like he’s been punched in the stomach.

“I do, Lochy, I do,” he mutters, eyes tearing up, “but what the fuck? Dad was gonna kill us?”

“I guess.” Lochlan says, his feeling like he’s floating out of his body. Even after saying everything out loud, even saying it to Saxon, who believed him, it felt unreal.

“Wait a second…” Saxon mumbles, brow furrowing again, “Dad didn’t give you one of the pina coladas, how were you the one that got sick from it?”

Fuck, Lochlan really doesn’t want to talk about this part. He was hoping, praying to a higher power Saxon wouldn’t have remembered that part, or just wouldn’t have asked. He turns away from Saxon, trying to hide his face in shame.

“I didn’t wash the blender that morning,” tears spilling from Lochlan’s eyes again, “I went to go make a shake and it was still in there.”

“That is so fucking stupid Loch, why would you do that?” Saxon says and his words make Lochlan cry even harder. It’s all so horrible, so embarrassing, but he deserves to have his behavior exposed, Saxon deserves to be reminded of how sick Lochlan is.

“I thought it was yours,” he sobs out, “I just wanted to feel close to you again, Sax. And I just remember going out to the pool, my throat closing up, and collapsing. I felt like I was drowning, dying, fuck.”

Saxon makes a strangled noise and Lochlan cautiously turns his head slowly to risk looking over at him again. Saxon is crying.

“Fuck Loch,” he manages to choke out through his tears, “come here.”

Lochlan feels like he’s flying. He practically throws himself across the bed into Saxon’s arms, burying his face into his shoulder. He’s shaking, hot wet tears pressing into Saxon’s work shirt. He can feel Saxon shaking a little as well, and can hear him choking out sobs. They haven’t hugged like this since Lochlan was a little kid. It's so much all at once.

“I deserved it,” Lochlan mutters into Saxon’s shirt, “I’m sick.”

“No,” Saxon whispers fiercely into Lochlan’s curls, “no you’re not, shut up.”

“I am,” he protests back, sobbing harder, “I fucked it all up between us, there’s something really really wrong with me Sax. I’m not right in the head.”

“No shut up,” Saxon repeats through his own tears and now he’s pressing little kisses on the top of Lochlan’s head. It’s so much, it’s too much, Lochlan doesn’t deserve this kind of warmth.

“You’re not sick, that’s so so fucking stupid,” Saxon breaths into Lochlan’s hair and he shivers at the feeling of Saxon’s hot breathe on his skin, “you were just confused, that’s all it was, baby.”

Baby? Lochlan whimpers in disbelief over how soft Saxon is being, how good he is being to him.

“Well I’m really fucking sorry,” he sniffles out, “either way.”

“I know,” Saxon says, still kissing Lochlan’s head. He moves his lips downwards to Lochlan's forehead, his tear-stained cheeks, “I know, I know. It’s okay, I forgive you.”

I know.

It’s okay.

I forgive you.

Lochlan fucking breaks, sobs so hard he can’t see, so hard everything around him goes black. All he’s conscious of is Saxon. Saxon hushing him, kissing his face, murmuring the same three phrases over and over again. It’s so good, it’s too good to be true. He wonders if he’s dying again, and that feels right. This is probably what heaven is.

 He wakes up a few hours later still curled up in Saxon’s bed, eyes crusty and tears dried on his cheeks. Groggily he pulls himself up out of bed, stands still for a little bit. He’s nervous.

There’s no way that had been real, it couldn’t have been. It must’ve been a dream, or maybe Lochlan was still in heaven. There couldn’t have possibly been a reality where Saxon had forgiven him for Thailand, where Saxon had said that it was okay. Kissed his face.

Called him baby.

Hesitantly, he quietly pads out of the bedroom into the living room. Saxon is at the island, sitting at a bar stool, typing away at a spreadsheet. His shirt is still stained with Lochlan’s tears and snot.

It had been real.

Lochlan makes a noise, a whimper, he can’t help it, it practically escapes his throat.

Saxon whips around on the stool, his glasses sliding down his nose a little. His face is soft, concerned, twisted up with emotion.

“Hey,” he says slow like Lochlan is an animal Saxon found on the highway that he’s trying not to scare off, “you doing alright?”

“Yeah…” Lochlan croaks out, his voice hoarse, “what happened?”

“You were crying and uh,” Saxon’s eyes are scanning Lochlan’s body, like he’s terrified Lochlan could have somehow gotten hurt since the last time he’s seen him, “you passed out in my bed. I think you literally tired yourself out or something.”

“Oh,” Lochlan says, cheeks heating with embarrassment.

“It’s okay,” Saxon stands up, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a sparkling water before handing it to Lochlan, “we don’t have to talk about it.”

Lochlan takes the water, takes a sip and nods.

“You should go back to my bed,” Saxon assessed before turning back to his work computer, “you still look exhausted.”

“Okay,” Lochlan replies, heading back to the bedroom, feeling like he’s floating.

“I love you,” Saxon says right before Lochlan closes the door, barely above a whisper, almost like he doesn’t want Lochlan to hear.

In his sleep, Lochlan dreams he’s a feral dog. Saxon finds him on the side of the road and takes him home.

Chapter Text

Saxon can’t let Lochlan out of his sight. 

He can’t stop thinking about him; can’t stop thinking about Lochlan on his bed, calling himself sick, saying he deserved it, deserved to die. And it was all his fault. He had pushed Lochlan away, been so cold and distant with him, driven him to drink the shake in some desperate attempt to feel close with Saxon again. And Saxon had let him, had walked right past Lochlan at the pool as he had been dying and hadn’t even thought to check. To do something as simple as just look over at him . And even afterwards Lochlan hadn’t told him, they’d gone years without talking because of Saxon. 

He had looked so small and child-like on his bed. It reminded Saxon of when Lochlan was six and learning how to ride a bike, of how he tumbled off and scraped his knee. Curled up in a tiny ball with tears streaming down his face, looking up at Saxon with those big, pleading eyes. And suddenly it was as if those eighteen years had never passed by; Saxon was holding him again, kissing his face, trying to do or say anything he could think of to take the pain away. Trying to make up for it all, for everything he could never go back and undo.

After Lochlan had passed out he’d taken the blankets and tried to tuck him in as best he could. He told his boss he had to work from home, “ family emergency”, and that he needed to work the rest of the week from home as well. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his brother alone for the rest of the break. And it was the very least he could do after everything, though he definitely needed to do more. Make Lochlan feel safe, feel good around him. He couldn’t bear the idea that Lochlan had gone years without telling him, suffering through all of that, and going through it so alone. Saxon decided he was going to do everything in his power to make Lochlan feel like he could come to him with anything from here on out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of the ways Saxon tries to do this is with the blender and the dishes. He can’t let Lochlan wash them as many times as he wants, which fucking kills him but he really can’t afford his utility bills to be too high. He tries to do everything he can in his power though to put him at ease.

“Would you trust me if I washed the blender and the dishes, Lochy? I can buy special soap or do it a certain way if that would make you feel safer?”

It feels like such a ridiculous request—like when they were young and Saxon would spray an “anti-monster” spray underneath Lochlan’s bed to keep the monsters out. But it worked the first time, maybe it would work again.

“Can I watch you do it?”

Saxon nods.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So it starts off with washing the dishes. Lochlan perches on the island, sitting in a bar stool, watching in complete concentration as Saxon washes each plate as diligently and carefully as he can. It’s totally silent, Lochlan’s gaze is so hyper fixed on the dishes and how Saxon is washing them it makes him feel self-conscious. He wants to do this well for Lochlan, he doesn’t want to mess it up. He feels like he’s back in college taking his finals and not in his own apartment doing one of the most mundane chores conceivable to man. But it’s worth it, he’d do anything for Lochlan if it meant he’d feel safe around him.

“I know I’m being neurotic, I’m sorry Sax,” Lochlan swallows, looking down embarrassed when Saxon finishes.

“Nah you’re good bro, I get it. It’s the least I can do,” Saxon smiles and playfully tousles his hair, making him blush.

What Saxon wants to say is “Anything, anything for you baby, I’m so so sorry.”

He would bite his lip, embarrassment flaring whenever he remembered that he had called Lochlan that aloud. He had been so messed up, Lochlan had been so messed up he couldn’t help it. Because truthfully Lochlan was his baby; he had been when he brought home Brandon for Thanksgiving, he had been when he was six and fallen off his bike, and he had been from the very moment he was born. He had always been Saxon’s to take care of, to protect, and god, he’d done such a shit job of it the last few years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next thing Saxon starts doing is making Lochlan’s shakes for him again. Lochlan insists he doesn’t need to, feels bad to make any extra work for Saxon but he insists. He makes himself protein shakes in the morning–he might as well save Lochlan the trouble and make both their shakes at the same time. It’s really no trouble.

And besides, it feels nice to do it, almost like they're going back in time all those years ago to Thailand. Before that vacation got so fucked up. Saxon would make Lochlan the shakes everyday that week, measuring out each scoop of protein to the exact precise amount he’d need for that day. When he starts making them for Lochlan again he feels like he’s back there and things are simple again. Easy, without any trauma. It makes him feel good, like he’s in control of what happens to them, what happens to Lochlan. Maybe if he does this for them everything will turn out okay.

The only issue is Lochlan makes his shakes incredibly different from Saxon. Lochlan’s shakes should be classified as milkshakes with how much fucking sugar he adds to them.

“It’s not sugar, it’s agave nectar Sax,” Lochlan corrects him.

“Agave nectar, lavender honey, brown rice syrup, whatever. They’re all just fancy, gayass disguises for sugar, dude. Like you might as well just be dumping Splenda in your drink at this point, no don’t laugh I’m fucking serious.”

Saxon refuses to give into Lochlan’s attempts to give himself pre-diabetes, he doesn’t care how much Lochlan protests and hates it, he’s making their shakes with the exact nutrients they need and nothing more—they’re not starting they day on a fucking sugar rush.

One day Lochlan’s decided he’s had enough.

“Yuck,” he announces, shoving the shake away and making a face, “I can’t do this anymore Saxon, sorry but no thanks.”

“No thanks my ass,” Saxon says, sliding the shake right to where Lochlan’s sitting at the island, “you’re finishing it and that’s final.”

Lochlan stares at Saxon for a few seconds and he can swear he can see the cogs turning in his brother’s head. Then watches as he takes the shake slowly, a mischievous grin forming on his face as he hops off the counter. 

“No you fucking don’t” Saxon laughs as Lochlan makes his way over to the trash.

In a second he’s on Lochlan, grabbing his waist, trying to wrestle the shake out of his hands, because no fucking way is that shit going to waste. And Lochlan is laughing, pushing back against Saxon, his hands and limbs tangling up with Saxon’s as he tries to escape. Saxon won’t let him, because this is good, this is familiar territory for him as well. They’d always wrestle like this as kids and Saxon would always, always win.

And just like always, they end up sprawled across the floor, Saxon on top of Lochlan, smirking down at him.

Miraculously, their shake has ended up in Saxon’s hands, somehow untouched, still full.

“Let me go, ow, you’re hurting me,” Lochlan protests, pouting.

He’s so fucking fake, so full of it, Saxon remembers how he’d always pull this card when they were kids. He laughs.

“Yeah I don’t think so, not until you finish your shake.”

“But you didn’t even pour your half out yet, it’s like twice as much as you usually make me have,” Lochlan whines.

“Yeah, well consider that your punishment for trying to throw my hard work in the fucking trash. Drink up,” Saxon smirks, lowering the drink down to Lochlan to take.

Lochlan huffs, looking up at Saxon with an exaggerated annoyance Saxon had become all too acquainted with over the last twenty two years. Saxon feels a sense of pride and pleasure in it, in the familiarity of being able to exert control over his brother, reminding him who was in charge.

Then, Lochlan’s face goes slack, unreadable, though Saxon swears those fucking cogs are turing in his head again. 

Saxon watches, frozen in surprise, as instead of reaching up to take the shake out of his hands, Lochlan leans forever and wraps his lips around the straw, drinking right out of Saxon’s hand. He takes so much of it in his mouth, practically the whole straw, maintaining eye contact with Saxon the whole time, big brown eyes unblinking and focused up on Saxon. Saxon watches him in a daze, his throat muscles and Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, making big noisy gulps with each suck. He keeps going and going, Saxon feels like it never ends but he keeps waiting, aching for the moment Lochlan comes up for air. He’s begging for this to be over but he can’t look away, can’t take his eyes off of Lochlan and his fucking mouth.

When Lochlan does take his mouth off the straw it’s almost violent. He practically whips his head backwards, gasping for air, saliva and remnants of the shake dribbling out of mouth. It’s so messy, so obscene, it shakes Saxon to his fucking core.

“There,” Lochlan says, smiling up at Saxon in between gasps, “finished.”

And Saxon should get off of Lochlan, he needs to actually, but he can’t, he’s still frozen in place. Lochlan is still smiling, wiping away the salvia and remnants of the shake that are dribbling down his chin. He looks crazy, eyes wild and hair disheveled but completely satisfied with himself. Saxon wants to slam the piece of shit’s head to the ground. But he’s better than that so instead he clears his throat, trying to find the right words.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You fucking know what I mean. First with the pudding, then with the shake,” Saxon growls, “God you’re such a little…..”

“Little what?”

“Tease, fuck you,” Saxon snaps.

“Oh,” Lochlan said, his face falling, “I thought you were going to say shit.”

And the shock and fear on Lochlan’s face is so real, so genuine that it shakes Saxon.

“Did you seriously not realize Loch, like I mean, Jesus …” Saxon stammers, and he feels like he’s falling through the floor into some kind of fucking void.

“I wasn’t trying to, I didn’t mean to–” Lochlan panics, putting his hands on his face embarrassed.

“I was just trying to be funny, because you’re like,” Lochlan can’t finish his sentence, Saxon doesn’t even have to see his face to know it’s bright red right now.

“I’m like what?”

“Homophobic,” Lochlan barely whispers the word out, voice trembling, “I thought it would just be funny to be weird and gay around you. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I mean maybe a little but not like that.”

A small noise escapes Saxon’s throat. Interesting choice of words, Lochlan had said uncomfortable, not turned on. 

Because Saxon’s not turned on, obviously, he is uncomfortable. That’s why he hated that, because Lochlan knows they’re trying to fix things, repair things from Thailand so why the absolute fuck would he go and do something like that?

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Lochlan says, hands still covering his face, “I fucked it up again.”

Saxon sighs.

“No you’re fine, Lochy, it’s not like you fucking touched me or something. Just keep your gay shit to yourself, like I always tell you,” he groans softly, frustrated as hell.

“Okay,” Lochlan mumbles slowly, hands slowly dropping from his face.

In the moment he looks so little and innocent again, and Saxon hates himself extra hard. He remembers what he’s been trying so hard to do, how safe he’s been trying to make Lochlan feel. And now he’s gone and fucked it all up again.

He wants to ruffle his hair again, kiss his face, tell him it’s okay, that Lochlan’s allowed to do whatever he wants. But he can’t. The kid needs to know fucking boundaries and Saxon can’t be sending him mixed messages.

With a pang Saxon suddenly realizes that’s probably how the Thailand incident happened in the first place.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Lochlan really, really hates Saxon sometimes.

Because this is so typical of Saxon, because he always does this. Just when Lochlan thinks he’s figured out the layout of their relationship, just as soon as he’s gotten comfortable, Saxon pulls the carpet from under his feet, all like, “no fuck you, gay weirdo”.

And he’d really, really thought it had been different this time, god he was so stupid. He wants to shove his fist into his mouth and bite down hard when he thinks about how nice Saxon had been. Taking him out to dinner, actually being open minded about his sex life enough to ask if Lochlan was being safe, comforting and believing him when he told him the Dad stuff, and forgiving him for what happened in Thailand. Lochlan had never thought they’d be able to have a relationship with him like that, not after he had messed it up so badly. It had been like a dream. A dream Lochlan had gone and fucked up by doing something as small as making a stupid joke. 

Sometimes Lochlan thinks about throwing the towel in and giving up. Because yeah, his relationships with most people were hard to navigate and manage but Saxon gave him emotional whiplash like nobody else. 

There was something different in the air though this time, weird but not horrible. After a day of uncomfortable silence Lochlan wakes up the next morning to Saxon making breakfast for them again. He seems guilty, nervous, but hopeful. It’s a shocking difference to his usual cold and distant persona he usually puts on when Lochlan’s done something to upset him.

“What’s all this?” 

The island is covered in pancakes, eggs, bacon, and fresh fruit. It looks like something out of a teen drama show where the kids ignore the spread and grab a banana because they’re running late to school. Lochlan thinks about doing that just to piss Saxon off.

“I um, look, uh,” Saxon’s scratching his head, looking so stressed he might throw up. What the actual fuck is going on with him?

“Look, I’m sorry,” he continues, “I um, know you didn’t like the shakes. I’m sorry I made you drink them. I remembered how much you liked pancakes as a kid…I thought maybe you’d probably still like them? And bacon and eggs because you still need protein.”

“And the fruit?”

Saxon looks like it’s taking everything in him to not make a joke.

“Good source of vitamin C,” he finally forces out through gritted teeth. 

“Right,” Lochlan smirks, plopping down and digging in.

He swears he hears Saxon sigh in relief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He ends up telling Piper about Brandon, because it sucks, because it’s weird and confusing, and because he apparently can’t talk about it with Saxon. 

It makes him feel better, Piper’s extremely empathetic and non-judgmental about it all. Lochlan knows she’s been through enough lesbian situationship throughout her college years to know exactly what he’s going through. She tries her best to make it clear to him that he deserves better, but also tells him she knows what it’s like to go back to someone that’s bad for you.

“Yeah Lochy I know, I’m sorry,” she sighs over the phone, “I don’t know why brains are wired the way they are but sometimes we gotta go back to someone until we hate them.”

Lochlan hums, lost in thought.

“It sucks so bad, but you’ll figure it out eventually. I mean look at me, it took me long enough but I finally found Beth.”

“Yeah,” he smiles a little at Piper mentioning her girlfriend, “that’s been going well?”

“Ugh, she’s too good for me,” Piper gushes over the phone, “she’s been so fucking supportive of me these last four years after Dad’s trial, so patient with me while I’ve been getting my shit together. And now, on top of everything else, she’s trying to get me that journalist job I’ve been wanting so bad.”

“Oh my gosh Piper that’s awesome!”

“I know, I know,” she agrees, and Lochlan doesn’t have to see her face to know she’s blushing and giddy.

They end up spending hours on the phone, laughing and crying about ex-boyfriends and girlfriends. It’s good, so good to catch up with her, Lochlan starts to wonder if he maybe picked the wrong sibling to spend break with.

As if reading his mind, Saxon enters the apartment. He’s sweaty and out of breath from the gym, little beads of sweat running down his body making his skin glisten. Lochlan averts his gaze, shame welling up inside of him.

He tries to ignore Saxon, continuing his conversation with Piper from the comfort of the couch but he is being so loud. Chopping up fruit as seemingly noisily as possible, slamming the cupboard, and using the blender on its highest possible setting. And Lochlan, despite not looking at Saxon, swears he can feel his gaze zeroed in on him from across the room.

He apologizes to Piper for the noise, says bye, and ends the phone call.

“Who was that?” Saxon asks, feigning nonchalance. 

“Piper.”

“Oh,” he says, looking like he can’t decide if he’s relieved or jealous.

“Yeah,” Lochlan dryly shrugs. 

“What were you guys talking about?”

“Gay stuff,” Lochlan quips, hoping to shut Saxon down. He’s really starting to dread the rest of this break. He can’t stand whatever weird energy Saxon has going on right now.

“Like what?”

“Oh my God,” Lochlan snaps, “did you get fucking short term memory loss or something right before break?”

Saxon looks like he’s just been slapped across the face. Lochlan flushes, feeling his face go red, realizing he’s never spoken to his brother that way before.

“Huh,” Saxon whispers, his voice shaky with surprise.

“I’m sorry,” Lochlan stammers, “but you’ve been like so so weird this break. And like, I know I have issues, Sax, but you clearly have some shit going on too and I’m just tired of feeling like I’m the only one here that has problems.” 

Saxon nods slowly, his eyes welling up with tears. Lochlan startles, he can count the number of times he’s seen his brother cry on one hand. The Dad stuff was understandable, but this…..

“Like I’m sorry but I feel like half the time you wanna know every fucking detail about my sex life and make stupid jokes about my sexuality and the other half of the time you act like I’m disgusting and that there’s something wrong with me for even just mentioning I’m gay. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel Saxon?’

“Like shit,” Saxon mutters looking down at the floor, guilt seeping out.

“Yeah,” Lochlan asserts, “why are you doing this to me?” 

The second part comes out a lot weaker and whiny than he means it to. 

Saxon looks like he’s about to pass out. He mutters something under his breath.

“What?’

“I think that I, um,” Saxon stammers, searching for the words, “I think I, uhhh…”

“There was a guy,” he finally states plainly, it’s vague but Lochlan knows his brother well enough to know what he means.

Lochlan suddenly feels like he’s fallen through the couch and the room is spinning around him. Because that’s not true, it can’t be, that’s not allowed to happen…..

“There was somebody else?”

The words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them, and fuck. He hadn’t meant to say that, that unspoken thing between them simplified down to one word at the end of a question.

Saxon’s eyes are wide in shock, like he can’t believe Lochlan’s said it aloud either.

“Yeah,” he whispers softly, “but it’s not gonna happen again.”

Lochlan can hear the self-loathing in his voice.

“Why not?”

He hates how relieved he sounds.

“Because I’m not like you or Piper, fuck,” Saxon snaps, “I don’t get to go through life doing whatever the fuck I want whenever that thing would best suit me. I was always supposed to go to Duke, work in finance with Dad, settle down with a wife and kids. It’s what they fucking built me to do.”

“You don’t have to anymore though, it’s not like you can work for Dad anyways,” Lochlan fumbles, knowing he sounds dumb.

“Lochlan I don’t know how to do anything else.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Lochlan feels like he’s looking at his brother for the first time suddenly. His six foot, thirty two year old brother suddenly seems very very small.

“I’m sorry,” he replies lamely.

“Not your fault,” he shrugs, “and I’m sorry for being an asshole. I’m working on it okay? Just give me time, please.”

“Okay,” he mustered out, now he feels like the one about to cry.

“Cool,” Saxon nods, still looking like he’s about to pass out, “I’m gonna go lie down in my bed for a little bit.”

Saxon has been in his bedroom for maybe five minutes when Lochlan decides he can’t take it anymore. He knows this could be the final straw between them, that he kinda fucked up the conversation between them again somehow, and the last thing Saxon probably wants to see right now is his face.

There’s a version of Saxon that Lochlan grew up with, one whose bedroom he’d sneak into at night whenever he’d have nightmares. A version of Saxon who had pulled him close and mummurred every bedtime story he could think of into Lochlan’s ears until he fell asleep. He needs that version now. 

“Saxon?” he calls out from the doorway, opening it slowly.

“Yeah?”

Saxon is laying flat on his back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Can I join you?”

“Sure,” Saxon sounds so indifferent it makes Lochlan want to cry.

He crawls into bed next to Saxon, trying to give him space, he really doesn’t want to fuck this up.

Saxon’s hand finds Lochlan’s hair, he strokes it gently. Lochlan makes a small satisfied noise.

“I wanna be someone you can talk to about stuff,” Saxon whispers.

“I know.”

“I just got a lot of bad shit in my head I think.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry about Thailand too, a lot of that stuff was my fault.”

“It’s really confusing being your brother sometimes,” he confesses.

“Fuck, I know, I’m sorry,” Saxon sounds ruined.

“It’s okay, I mean it’s not, but you could do anything to me and I’d still come back to you,” it’s probably the most honest he’s ever been with Saxon.

“We gotta work on your boundaries,” Saxon laughs dryly, “and mine too I think.”

“Maybe I like being this way,” he says boldly.

“You need therapy.”

“You fucking too.”

“Whatever, I’m already there.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah I don’t go as often as I should, I mean I basically cancel all my appointments but I’m trying. They put me on fucking meds.”

“What kind?”

“Zoloft.”

Lochlan laughs.

“You’re gonna end up like Mom.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna end up like anything at all.”

Lochlan doesn’t have to look over at Saxon to know he’s silently crying.

An eternity passes between them.

“How was the guy?” he asks finally.

“Really good,” Saxon laughs through his tears, “but I ended up chickening out, we just made out for a little bit and then he left.”

Something twists in Lochlan, it’s sick but part of him knows he’s overjoyed that he’s still the only guy who’s been with Saxon like that. 

“Why?’’ Please say it’s because you wanted it to be me. Please please please.

“Like I said earlier, I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Huh.

“But like, you’ve seen videos?” Lochlan asks, feeling brave and thinking back to the Fraternity X comment.

“Yeah but that’s different,” Saxon whispers, “I mean it’s not like straight porn, I don’t know…I just knew I wouldn’t feel in control like I would if I was with a woman.”

“I’d let you be in control,” he risks saying.

Saxon’s hand stops stroking Lochlan’s hair for a second.

“You didn’t in Thailand.”

“That was different, I didn’t know, I thought–”

“It doesn’t matter, okay? We’re not supposed to do that kind of stuff with each other.”

“Why not?”

“Seriously?” Saxon laughs again, “because we’re brothers, Lochlan. And even if we weren't, I was serious when I said I’m not gonna get with a guy again.”

Another eternity passes.

“Do you hate me for what happened in Thailand?”

“What? No, obviously not.”

“We didn’t talk for like almost four years.”

“Yeah I kinda freaked out.”

“Why?”

“You know Lochlan,” Saxon whispers, “come on, don’t make me say it aloud.”

Lochlan thinks back to their threesome in Thailand and how Saxon’s face had looked when Lochlan had made him orgasm. He thinks back to the dream he used to have of Saxon on the cliff begging for something he couldn’t quite put into words.

“Yeah,” he says finally, “I know.”

Chapter Text

Christmas feels heavy.

There's been a weight between them, since that one night. Lochlan had fallen asleep next to Saxon in his bed, and Saxon should’ve kicked Lochlan out, made him sleep on the pull-out. He knew that, he knew he was supposed to be enforcing boundaries with him but he couldn’t bare too. He felt wrenched, like he’d pulled his soul out of his fucking body and rung it up in front of Lochlan to judge. 

Lochlan knew Saxon better than anyone else, he always had. Ever since the day Lochlan had been born Saxon had latched onto him, felt like he was being given a second chance in a way. He couldn’t explain it, maybe if he cared more about Piper and their relationship he could say it was a second chance at being a good big brother. But he and her had just never really gotten along and that was fine with Saxon, he didn’t carry any grief with him over it.

Sometimes he thinks his second chance he got the day Lochlan was born was just to be a better human. He wasn’t sure why he would be thinking this at eight, what would have even been going on in his head during that time to make him think he needed some type of salvation. Maybe a higher power just always knew he was doomed and instilled that into him. Knew he needed an angel on his shoulder.

Of course, looking back now, Saxon thinks that he probably corrupted Lochlan more than Lochlan had saved him. Obsessively touching and forcing Lochlan into sexual situations during their week in Thailand. Strutting around Lochlan nude when he knew, because he had known, deep down, that Lochlan might have been queer. And he was such an egomaniac, so starved for the idea of being lusted over, that somewhere deep down he didn’t even care if it was his younger brother doing the lusting.

And it hadn’t just been in Thailand. I’ve always been like that with Lochlan haven’t I? , he thinks with a pang. Touching him, teasing him, whispering sexual innuendos in his ears when no one else was watching. Anything he could to make him blush and giggle. It had truly seemed innocent at the time, just brotherly stuff. Now he was too sure.

He tried not to think too much about it, about why he had always felt this all-consuming need to make Lochlan latch right back onto him, to worship him. If he thought too much about it he started feeling nauseous, sickly feelings of guilt and shame weaseling their way into his body over certain possibilities.

But there was one objective truth, Thailand had been his fault. Maybe not completely, but mostly. Because he was Lochlan’s older brother, his protector, and it was his job to take care of Lochlan. Instead he had filled his head with all these fucked up ideals about sex, power, and control. About taking whatever you wanted and not taking no for an answer, no matter how dangerous it seemed. And of course, with the way he had touched and talked to Lochlan during that trip…well it shouldn’t have been shocking that Lochlan had used Saxon’s own advice on him.

So what Saxon had said was true, Lochlan wasn’t sick, just confused. What he just hadn’t been able to admit however, until just the other night, was that the confusion had been his own fault.

If that by itself wasn’t bad enough, he’s positive the heaviness of Christmas is coming from Lochlan. He spent the last few days with his head down, quiet, curled up on the couch watching TV or reading his textbooks. It made Saxon feel sick with guilt. He was trying everything he could think of, making Lochlan’s favorite foods, trying to start easy conversations with him, even offering to take him out to his favorite places. Lochlan kept shrugging him off, breaking his fucking heart.

The car ride over to their parents’ house was tense, filled with the unspoken weight of the last time they were all together, Thanksgiving. Saxon kept his eyes glued to the road, trying to ignore the way his palms were sweating on the leather steering wheel. Lochlan sat in the passenger seat, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. He was practically drowning in his sweater, the sleeves flowing far past his hands which were picking relentlessly with a string on the hem. His hair was styled and gelled in a way Saxon had never seen him do before. It made him look like a little kid dressed up for some kind of formal event or wedding. Cute, he thought, wanting to lean over and pinch his face. Kiss his forehead, his cheeks, his mout- No, no, what the fuck?

He pushed down the thought as fast as possible.  The silence was thick, sticky, clinging to the windows like fog.

The car radio played a mix of Christmas classics and modern pop, each note grating against the awkward silence that filled the car. Saxon gritted his teeth, trying to focus on the road ahead, his mind racing with thoughts he kept trying to push back down. How was he supposed to maintain a normal relationship with Lochlan if this was his headspace everytime he unrepressed something? How was he supposed to apologize for being such a complete hypocritical asshole? For pushing his own internalized issues onto Lochlan? For driving his brother into such a confused spiral he had still tried to get with him the other night?

The house grew closer, their childhood home looming in the distance like a castle. It was a stark contrast to the shitstorm their lives had turned into. The mansion looked the same, with its ivy-covered bricks decorated with Christmas lights that twinkled like stars that had fallen from the sky and onto their house. 

As they pulled into the driveway, Saxon’s heart felt like it was in his throat. He hadn’t had a real conversation with Lochlan since the night they had passed out in his bed together. He’d hoped what they had talked about would just go away, like so many things in his life that he didn’t want to deal with. But, embarrassingly late (at the age of thirty two) he was finally realizing he couldn’t keep going through his life that way. Not if he wanted to make things right with Lochlan.

“We’re here,” he said, his voice tight.

Lochlan nodded, his eyes never leaving his lap. He didn’t say anything, just opened his door and stepped out into the cold night air. Saxon took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts. He followed, his legs feeling like they were made of lead. The front door was already open, Victoria standing in the doorway.

“Merry Christmas, boys!” she sang, her voice an octave too high.

Saxon forced a smile. Lochlan walked past her without a word, and she looked at between him and Saxon with a mix of disappointment and confusion. Timothy clapped Saxon on the back a little too hard.

“Welcome home, son,” he said, his grip tightening for a fraction of a second before letting go.

Saxon nodded, his eyes following Lochlan as he disappeared into the house. His guilt felt like it was suffocating him. He had to fix this, somehow. But first, they had to get through Christmas dinner.

The house smelled of roasting turkey and pumpkin pie, a scent that once brought him comfort but now just made him feel ill. He could hear the clinking of silverware from the dining room, the low murmur of Piper’s voice talking to someone on the phone. 

Saxon barely made it through dinner. He pushed food around his plate, jaw clenched so tight it ached, barely hearing a word anyone said. His mother’s shrill laughter, his father’s quiet voice, Piper’s half-hearted attempts at small talk— it all blurred together, background noise just adding to the white noise buzzing in his head.

Across the table, Lochlan sat small and silent, his eyes downcast, barely touching his food. It made Saxon's stomach churn. He noticed how his eyes would occasionally glance at his father and then back at his plate, a nervous look on his face. Eventually he looked across the room, blushing once he realized Saxon was staring at him. Saxon’s phone buzzed.

[LOCHY]: ik he didnt poison my food btw

[LOCHY]: sometimes i just cant get the idea out of my head

[LOCHY]: idk ik its stupid but its just hard to eat sometimes bc of it

[LOCHY]: especially when he’s around

Saxon glanced over at Timothy, oblivious laughing at something Victoria had said, feeling rage begin to burn in his blood.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Lochlan had carried that secret for four goddamn years — choking on it, swallowing it down, pretending everything was fine within the family. And Saxon had been too self-absorbed, too caught up in his own bullshit, to even see it. He hated himself for that more than he hated his father.  

Almost.  

Because while Saxon hadn’t noticed Lochlan in pain, Timothy had been the one who had almost fucking killed him. And destroyed their families reputation. And he had gotten away with it too, maybe not in the eyes of the law, he served his time and they had been stripped of almost all of their finances. But he still sat at the head of the table, grinning and drinking like he hadn't shattered every fragile thing that their family had cared about over the last few years with the money laundering. Like he hadn’t almost killed his own son, Saxon’s baby.

After dinner was done he pushed back his chair with a harsh scrape, standing so fast he rattled the table.

"I need to talk to you," Saxon said, voice trembling. His eyes locked on his father.  

Timothy laughed, low and condescending. "Alright, Saxon. No need for dramatics."

But Saxon was already moving. Around the table, past the fake holly centerpieces and the expensive china plates they only used on holidays. 

"Let’s go," Saxon growled, “now.”

For a moment, Timothy looked ready to push back—say something cruel, something cutting—but something in Saxon's face must have warned him off. As he cursed under his breath, Timothy stood, setting down his napkin with slow, deliberate movements.

They crossed into the living room, past the bright chandelier, the polished silverware, the shallow, rotting illusion of their happy, perfect family.

As soon as they were out of sight, Saxon shoved him. Hard.

Timothy stumbled back, shock flashing across his face.

"Lochlan told me what you did,” Saxon snapped, “How you fucking poisoned him back in Thailand." 

Saxon continued, his voice low and shaking with rage. 

"He trusted you. He trusted all of us. And you," His voice cracked. "You almost fucking killed him."

Timothy remained silent, reached over and straightened Saxon's shirt like he was some petulant child. Saxon felt his blood begin to boil.

"It wasn’t meant for him," he said dismissively, like Lochlan’s suffering was some minor inconvenience. "He wasn’t supposed to be part of it."

"He was a fucking kid!" Saxon cried, "Eighteen! He was a kid, and he almost died because of you!"

From the corner of his eye, Saxon caught Lochlan in the hallway, watching them. Pale as a ghost, trembling, his hands fisted into the sleeves of that stupid oversized sweater.  

Seeing him—seeing who his father had hurt, what he himself had failed to protect—only made the fury blaze hotter.

"You sat there," Saxon hissed at Timothy, stepping closer, "and you watched him suffer. You watched him fucking convulse and choke by the pool and you didn't even do anything, didn’t even fucking call for help."

He could remember it now — in brutal, horrific clarity. Lochlan sick and scared on their boat ride back, Saxon thinking it was just bad food or dehydration, his father clapping a heavy hand on his back and telling him it was "nothing serious."  

"You made him feel crazy for even thinking something was wrong!" Saxon loses it, shouts.

Timothy's face darkened. "He was never supposed to be involved," he repeated, as if that excused it. As if Lochlan’s pain was an unfortunate footnote, not some fucking crime.

Saxon’s hands shook with the effort not to punch him.

“You wanna hit me don’t you?” Timothy sneered, “But you can’t even do that. I honestly wish you would, just be a fucking man for once. But you can’t. God, you’ll never be anything but a fucking disappointment.”

Saxon felt the weight of his words—like they were dragging him under. For a split second, the old reflex kicked in. The one where he would fall back into line, the one where he would scramble to please, to earn his father’s approval. But something inside him snapped.

He took a step back, eyes hardening.

“Maybe,” Saxon said quietly. His voice wasn’t as loud as his anger, but it carried the weight just the same. “But at least I’m not you.”

Timothy blinked, disbelief flashing in his eyes. Saxon could see the flicker of rage building, but it didn’t scare him this time.

Saxon stood his ground, shaking his head slightly as he gathered the words he’d been holding onto for too long.

“You were the one I always looked up to,” Saxon said, voice breaking slightly, but he pushed on. “When I was a kid, you were fucking everything to me, Dad. I modeled my whole fucking life to be something you’d approve of. But now I see it. I see you for what you really are.” 

He met his father’s gaze—cold, unwavering.

“You were so wrapped up in your own shit that you didn’t even see what you had right in front of you. You broke Mom. You broke Piper. You broke Lochlan. And I was the one that was there for them after the trial, trying to pick up the pieces. Even then I was still trying to make you proud, trying to live up to some version of you that I couldn’t even recognize anymore. But I don’t want to be you. Not now, not ever. I’m not going to waste my life chasing something I can’t have, because the truth is, I’d rather fail a hundred times than turn into you.”

For a moment, there was silence. Timothy’s face was unreadable. But Saxon didn’t flinch. He didn’t look away.

“Lochlan,” Saxon continued, his voice gaining strength, “he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be. And maybe that’s what really scares you, huh? Because you see him, you see how he gives a shit, and how he actually fucking cares about the people around him, cares about his own fucking family. I won’t let you drag him into your world. Not ever.”

Saxon stands there for a moment longer, still reeling from the confrontation with his father. He’s breathing heavily, chest rising and falling as though he’s just sprinted a marathon. His hands feel tight at his sides, like he’s holding onto something, something he doesn’t know how to let go of. But he looks down the hall, over at Lochlan. Lochlan’s face is unreadable, a little pale, but there’s no shame in his eyes. No judgment.

Saxon doesn’t know if he should say something. Should he apologize? Should explain how much it hurt to finally face the man who had once been his hero, only to realize that hero was just another person hiding behind a mask?

Instead, he simply steps toward the door.

Lochlan follows, quiet but steady. They don’t speak. There’s no need to fill the silence with words. Just the two of them, walking out of that house that never really felt like home. 

As they step outside, the cool air hits them like a wave. The night sky is clear, and for the first time in a long time, Saxon feels like he can breathe.

The ride back to Saxon’s apartment is quieter than before. The air between them feels lighter now, as if the weight of the last few days has somehow dissipated, leaving room for something softer. Lochlan’s still a little distant, his usual guarded expression firmly in place, but Saxon can see the way his shoulders relax just a bit, the faintest hint of relief in his eyes. Maybe it's because of the fight with his father, or maybe it's because of the way Saxon stood up for him, but either way, something’s shifted. Saxon’s heart feels a little less heavy too.

When they arrive, Saxon can’t help but notice how small and cozy his apartment feels compared to his childhood home. It used to feel too small, suffocating. Ironically, with Lochlan here the apartment was starting to feel like a place he could breathe in, unwind.

“Want anything to drink?” Saxon asks, tossing his keys on the counter. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the back of the couch, his eyes flicking over to Lochlan, still standing by the door, looking a little unsure of himself.

Lochlan shrugs but doesn’t answer immediately, instead eyeing the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. Saxon had set it up earlier that day, just a simple, small tree with mismatched ornaments—nothing fancy, but it was enough to fill the room with the soft glow of lights.

Saxon hesitates, then goes to get something out of his room. He’d meant to give it to Lochlan earlier, but everything had gotten a little too overwhelming, and the idea of a Christmas present had felt so... trivial, compared to everything else they were going through. But now, after everything that happened, after the fight with his father, Saxon feels like he needs to do something to make it up to him.

He picks up the gift he’d carefully wrapped for Lochlan, a small, square box tied with a thin red ribbon. The kind of box that was heavy in the hand, solid. He’d gone back and forth for weeks before finally buying it, wondering if it was too much — wondering if Lochlan would even accept something like this from him at this point in their relationship.

“Hey,” Saxon says quietly, holding it out to Lochlan. “I know it’s late, but... I got you something. Merry Christmas.”

Lochlan looks at the gift in his hands, his face unreadable for a second before his eyes flicker up to meet Saxon’s. There’s a long pause, and Saxon can feel his palms start to sweat.

“You didn’t have to,” Lochlan says, voice low. He seems almost... nervous. It makes Saxon’s chest tighten.

“Yeah, I did,” Saxon insists, pushing it into Lochlan’s hands. “It’s not... much. But I’ve been thinking about this. About everything lately. I just want you to know that I’m here and you can talk to me about stuff. Even when I’m a fucking idiot. Okay?”

Lochlan’s fingers brush against Saxon’s when he takes the box, and for a split second, Saxon thinks he might pull away. But he doesn’t. Instead, he slowly begins unwrapping it, the paper crinkling under his fingers.

Inside the box, resting against a bed of dark velvet, is a watch; an Omega Seamaster Planet Ocean 600m. The stainless steel gleams under the soft lights of the Christmas tree, the deep black dial catching the glow just right. It’s sleek but strong, elegant without being showy — just like Lochlan’s old watch, just a new more expensive upgrade.

Lochlan freezes for a moment, staring at it. His fingers hover above the watch without touching it, almost like he’s afraid it’ll break if he gets too close.

“Saxon...” His voice cracks, barely above a whisper. “This is... this is too much.”

Saxon shakes his head immediately. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve been wanting to get it for you for a while.”

Lochlan’s throat bobs as he swallows, still staring at the watch like he can’t quite believe it’s real.

“How did you afford this?,” Lochlan asks, quieter now. “I know you made more than the average person, Sax, but not enough for something like this.”

Lochlan finally lifts the watch out of the box, holding it carefully, reverently. Saxon can see the way his hands tremble just slightly.

“Well it wasn’t an impulse buy, that’s for fucking sure.” Saxon lets out a small, self-conscious laugh. “I had been saving up to get you one for a few years, Mom and Dad gave both Piper and I really nice watches for Christmas during our senior year of college. Kinda like an ‘you’re almost done with college present’. When the trial started going down, well, I knew they wouldn’t be able to afford it but I still wanted to get you something. ”

Lochlan looks up at him then, and Saxon feels the full weight of his gaze, raw and vulnerable. For a long moment, neither of them says anything. There’s just the hum of the heater, the soft blink of Christmas lights, the quiet understanding building in the space between them.

“Thank you,” Lochlan says finally, voice rough, blush creeping onto his cheeks. He clears his throat and adds, a little steadier, “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever gotten me.”

Without thinking, Saxon steps closer, just a few inches, but it feels like everything. His hand hovers before he lightly grips Lochlan’s wrist, helping him fasten the watch around it. Their heads are so close now, Saxon can smell the faint scent of Lochlan’s cologne, something clean and woodsy.

When he finishes, Saxon lets his hand linger for a second longer than necessary, thumb brushing lightly over Lochlan’s pulse point. A silent thank you for accepting. A silent apology. A 

“You’re welcome,” Saxon murmurs, voice rough with emotion he doesn’t quite wanna think about. “Merry Christmas, Loch.”

Lochlan smiles then — not a big one, not yet, but it’s real. And Saxon feels something in his chest crack open, painfully, beautifully.

“Merry Christmas, Sax.”

Chapter Text

By the time winter break ends, Lochlan doesn’t want to go back.

It feels so incredibly unreal that just a few weeks ago a part of him had been wishing he had spent his break with Piper instead. But Saxon, well, Lochlan didn’t know what he had done that had made Saxon feel like he should've spoken up to Dad like he had but it nearly drove him to tears whenever he thought about it for too long. 

“You were the one I always looked up to,” Saxon had said, voice breaking slightly, but he pushed on. “When I was a kid, you were fucking everything to me, Dad. I modeled my whole fucking life to be something you’d approve of.”

  And yeah Lochlan got that, Saxon was to Lochlan what Dad was to Saxon. He felt like he had spent his whole life riding the high he felt whenever he was able to get his brother to laugh, to smile (a real mouth-opened, overjoyed smile, not the one he did on his work video calls), or to tousle his hair. He lived for it, he fucking existed for it. And until the incident in Thailand, Lochlan had also tried to model his whole life, his whole being to be something that brought Saxon joy.

And Saxon had been fine cutting that off, his version of that at least. All for Lochlan. Lochlan, who hadn’t even really been speaking to Saxon at the time-being and for what? Because everytime they did talk it felt messy and weird with way too much baggage? 

Lochlan decided he was going to have to make peace with the idea that Saxon and him were never going to get together again the way they had in Thailand, the way Saxon had with that one guy he had made out with. The idea made Lochlan’s stomach squeeze in grief and yearning, but he decided he would have to be okay with it. His brother loved him so much, even if it wasn’t in the way he wished it could be, that he was willing to sacrifice his relationship with the one person he cared the most in the world for Lochlan’s sake.

Unless Lochlan was the person Saxon cared about the most in the world….the thought of that gave him goosebumps. So yeah, he would find a way to accept he was never going to be able to have his brother in the way that he wanted. The love that Saxon was giving him now, had been giving him all of winter break, was more unconditional than anything else Lochlan had ever felt. Saxon saw him, like all of him, and loved every inch of him. It made Lochlan almost feel like he had been obliterated over the idea of being loved like that.

There was the gay stuff, sure. Lochlan was going to have to work on that with him, keep calling him out on his bullshit. He’d giggle a little bit at the thought of being able to get to the point where Saxon could even be considered an ally, but he was going to make it happen. The story Saxon had told about the guy he had met at the bar….there was clearly something there. Something they could work with.

And Saxon had thought of Lochlan as a man. “Lochlan,” Saxon had said, his voice strong and clear, “he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

Saxon couldn’t get that out of his head. It made him beam, stand up a little bit straighter whenever he thought about it. He noticed that he was carrying himself differently the last few weeks after that, confidence in his walk and a spring in his step.

The last couple weeks had been so, so good too. Waking up to Saxon making him breakfast, or, if he woke up early enough they’d make breakfast together. He could tell Saxon was getting a lot of amusement out of trying to teach him how to cook.

“Jesus, have you ever flipped a pancake before Lochy? Or is it just endless ramen for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?,” Saxon had laughed.

Lochlan had been struggling to flip the pancakes over in the pan, dropping a few of them on the floor.

“What....no I eat other stuff too,” He had quipped back defensively, though Saxon had been right, he had been eating a lot of ramen over the last four years.

“Like what?”

“Uhhhh….lot’s of stuff,” Lochlan fumbles, eliciting a hearty laugh from Saxon.

It was easy, it was good. Playful even. The amount of times they had spent laughing in Saxon’s apartment over the last weeks of winter break was more than Lochlan had ever laughed anywhere else. And not just during cooking but other stuff too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lochlan this game fucking sucks,” Saxon groaned, putting his face in his hands, “I thought you said the monsters only come out at night.”

“Yeah but you’re in the caves now dude,” Lochlan had giggled, knocking his shoulder against Saxon’s, “you gotta be careful they like the dark.”

“If one more of those stupid fucking green guys explodes anywhere near me I’m rage quitting,” Saxon huffs, sending Lochlan into hysterics. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the day before the spring semester, Saxon and Lochlan sitting in the Duke parking lot.

“I don’t wanna get out,” Lochlan groaned, pouting at Saxon, pleading.

“Stop, no dude,” Saxon laughed, “do not give me those puppy dog eyes, that’s not going to work on me this time.”

“Pleasseeee,” Lochlan continued, putting his hands together, begging.

“God you are so fucking impossible,” Saxon smiled, tousling Lochlan’s hair, making his mouth curve up into a shy smile.

“My dorm sucks so hard,” Lochlan sighed, “your apartment is way nicer, can’t I just spend the rest of my senior year there with you?”

A look crosses Saxon’s face and for a moment Lochlan thinks he might actually be considering it. Hope flits into his stomach. 

“You can’t sleep on my couch for the rest of the year, it’s going to give you back problems,” Saxon finally says, conclusively.

“It’s a pull-out though!” Lochlan protests.

“Still doesn’t have the same back support that your mattress in the dorm has,” Saxon points out, “and your posture has been so good these last few weeks, I don’t wanna do anything to mess that up.”

“Ugh,” Lochlan moans, but he’s secretly grinning. Saxon noticed my posture!

“Hey, tell you what,” Saxon says softly, as if he’s just thought of something, “if you quit arguing with me and get your ass out of this car….AND have all As by the time spring break rolls around, why don’t we spend that together?”

“What really?!” Lochlan gasps.

“Sure, why not?” Saxon shrugs, “where would you wanna go?”

“I don’t know,” Lochlan fumbles, “that would be expensive right? Traveling somewhere for a whole week….”

It had seemed like secondhand nature before the trial, but now Lochlan can’t think of a vacation he’s been on in the last four years.

“Lochy, come on,” Saxon teases, “anywhere, just name me a place.”

Lochlan blushes, feeling his body go warm.

“Costa Rica, maybe? If that’s not asking for too much, I mean really we could…”

“Lochlan,” Saxon smirks from his side of the car, “get out of my fucking car and it’s yours.”

Lochlan giggles with giddiness and hops out of his side of the car, face beaming. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lochlan had been counting down the days until spring break almost as soon as spring break had started. His head was overflowing with places they could go; there was the Corcovado National Park, the waterfalls in Osa Peninsula, and the Golfo Dulce. The possibilities felt endless. Everytime he had suggested something to Saxon he had responded back with a smile emoji and a thumbs up, or some other confirmation of some sorts. Lochlan wonders if he is dreaming, the vacation seems way too good to be true, his whole relationship with Saxon feels way too good to be true right now.

So he doesn’t need to know that he got back with Brandon, he’ll find sometime to tell Saxon later. Continuing to hook up with the guy your brother punched in the face over Thanksgiving break sounded like a recipe for disaster if you were trying to repair your relationship with said brother. He just needed Saxon to calm down about the gay thing a little bit and then he could open him up to the possibility of him and Brandon being a thing again. Or, what Lochlan secretly hoped would be the case, Brandon would’ve broken up with him by then and left him alone forever. Like Piper had said on the phone before Christmas, Lochlan’s brain was just wired to go back to Brandon until he hated him, and he didn’t hate him yet. Almost, but not quite.

On the last day of his mid-semester finals, just a few days before spring break, Lochlan thinks he may have hit that point.

[BRANDON]: babe

[L]: what

[BRANDON]: im so fucking horny rn

[L]: ??? 

[L]: im literally in class for my final lol

[BRANDON]: yeah ive got one too

[BRANDON]: stress is driving me crazy i need to get off

[L]: im srry i cant come over rn

[L]: maybe after my final ???

[BRANDON]: fuck

[BRANDON]: i need you now

[L]: i cant

[L]: pls just wait a lil

[BRANDON]: ugh

[BRANDON]: can you just send a fucking a pic or something

[L]: fine just pls can you stop after that

[L]: my final is literally about to start

[L]: i dont wanna get in trouble

[BRANDON]: k just send them lmao

Lochlan sighs, stressed, and runs his fingers through his hair. He glances up at the clock, 6:25pm, five minutes until his last class, his last mid-semester final started. He bites his lip, then decides fuck it, and scrambles to the bathroom.

Locking himself in his still, Lochlan feels the shame and embarrassment creep up onto his back. How does he always let Brandon talk him into this shit, make him embarrass himself in this way? He hates taking pictures of himself like this, hates sexting, he really never gets off whenever him and Brandon have done it. The whole thing just feels artificial and fake, performative.

Still, he knows what Brandon likes to see. He unbuckles his belt, pulls down his pants and boxers, spreading his legs. He lifts up his Duke shirt, takes it into his mouth, exposing his bare stomach and V-line. He angles his phone up, giving off his best please fuck-me, lust-filled twink eyes and snaps a few shots.

Looking at the photos, Lochlan’s stomach fills with nausea, embarrassment, and self-hatred. He looks so fucking stupid. 

[BRANDON]: uh hello?

Lochlan checks his phone’s time, 6:29PM.  Fuck class starts in a minute! Lochlan panics, knowing he can’t miss his mid-semester final. He grabs his pants, shoving them up half-hazardly, and sprints to his class.

“Alright class, phones up!” His professor calls from her desk almost as soon as Lochlan walks in.

Brandon won’t stop texting him, his phone buzzing and lighting up every five seconds. Fuck he’s gonna hate me if I don’t send him something before this final starts, Lochlan thinks, sweating.

He just needs to send the pictures and Brandon will just shut up, and he can do that. He just needs to find a way to send them without looking like he’s on his phone. 

He slips his phone under his desk, his fingers tapping the top of message history. Brandon and him have been texting the most recently so their conversation will be at the top. Lochlan’s fingers brush that part of his screen, then the bottom of the screen where he knows the send button is located. 

“Lochlan? I thought I said phones away!” His professor chides him, walking over to where he’s seated at his desk.

“Sorry, sorry, putting it away right now,” he apologizes, hitting the send button and slipping his phone into his bag before he can overthink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One mile away, from the comfort of his apartment, Saxon’s phone dings.

[LOCHY]: *One Image Attached*

Chapter Text

A few days before Lochlan’s spring break, Saxon’s phone dings.

[LOCHY]: *One Image Attached*

He frowns, looking down at his phone, as he sits down for dinner. Lochlan’s supposed to be taking his last mid-semester final right now, what could he possibly be texting him about? Saxon had sent him a “ good luck dude you got this” text a minute before, maybe he had just shot him a quick thank-you text before that? A picture though?

 He swipes the notification, and unlocks his phone.

On his phone screen is a picture of his little brother in a bathroom stall. His Duke shirt pulled up and held in his mouth, between his lips. They were full and pink, a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin. They looked like they had been bitten, glossy and swollen, and it sent a bolt of something through Saxon’s body that he didn’t quite know what to do with. A wet spot formed in the piece of the fabric wrapped between his teeth, soaked from drool. His bare, tight stomach was exposed; slender and pale with the vaguest hint of muscles starting to form. A small, barely-there happy trail running from his little navel to his…. jesus.

One of Lochlan’s hands gripped his phone, angling it upwards. The other was wrapped around a half-hard cock, a gentle curve pointing up towards his navel. It was bigger than Saxon had thought it would be, with a soft, pink head that was already wet (from what, spit? precum?). A small bush formed around the base of his cock, fuzzy and unkempt. It was a stark contrast to the rest of Lochlan’s body, which was meticulously maintained—his chest and legs smooth and barely hairy, his abs tight and defined. It was almost as if he had forgotten to shave that one area, or perhaps it was a deliberate move; proof of his masculinity to balance out the delicacy that was the rest of him. The hair was light brown, the same shade as the hair on his head, and it grew in a messy, untamed way that was oddly endearing. It looked like a little cloud around the base of his shaft, the softest part of him hidden in a thicket. It was a stark contrast to Saxon’s own, which was always trimmed and groomed to perfection—everything about Saxon was calculated and precise, it had to be. But Lochlan’s was the total opposite, untouched and wild. The way his brother's hand was wrapped around it, so tentatively, made Saxon's body twitch with the memory of Thailand. He had never seen a man's cock so closely before, in all the porn videos he watched there might be a quick flash of it, one shot that never lingered, but never anything like this. 

His eyes flitted from Lochlan’s cock, ashamed and sick, to the top-half of the photo. Lochlan’s face was angled just right so that his eyes were half-lidded and his cheeks were flushed. It was a look Saxon had seen before, on the faces of girls he’d fucked. That look of desperate desire, of wanting, of needing. It was a look that usually made Saxon feel powerful, but now, looking at his brother, it just made him feel nauseous. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at this, knew it was a violation of some kind, but he couldn’t help it. 

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck….

Saxon’s thoughts swirled in his head like a tornado of confusion and anger. He had never seen Lochlan like this before, so exposed, seductive, and vulnerable. Saxon's hand hovered over the phone, unsure of what to do next. His thumb hovered over the delete button, the rational part of his brain screaming at him to erase the image immediately. But something held him back. It was trying to look away from a car wreck on the side of the road. He was both repulsed and fascinated by the sight of his brother naked. The more he stared, the more his anger grew, at Lochlan for sending the photo and himself for not being able to look away.

He knew his little brother had a crush on him, back in Thailand, but he had hoped he had outgrown that when he had started college, started getting with other men. That one conversation from a couple months ago, however, had made doubts start to circulate in his mind….

“It’s not like straight porn, I don’t know…I just knew I wouldn’t feel in control like I would if I was with a woman.”

“I’d let you be in control,” Lochlan had said softly.

Saxon’s hand had stopped stroking Lochlan’s hair.

“You didn’t in Thailand.”

“That was different, I didn’t know, I thought–”

“It doesn’t matter, okay? We’re not supposed to do that kind of stuff with each other.”

“Why not?”

He had felt a flush of anger (the same anger he was feeling now), that Lochlan would ask such a disturbing question. He knew it was his fault, knew he had somehow groomed and trained his brother into thinking that kind of relationship between the two of them was normal, but fuck he hadn’t meant to. He had told Lochlan it was wrong, that they were brothers for God’s sake, and that Saxon had no interest in ever being with a man like that. And yeah, sure, he had let Lochlan sleep in his bed that night, but other than that he hadn’t done anything to imply to Lochlan that he would want a fucking photo like this from him. He had done everything, at least he thought he had, to try to enforce healthy, normal boundaries between Lochlan and him after that night.

He needed to keep enforcing boundaries with Lochlan, because fuck this was so not fucking appropiate for him to be sending to Saxon. He’d call him in a few hours when he knew his final was over, do some awkward gentle-parenting, explain to him why sending a fucking nude to your older brother was NOT okay. The idea made his body heat with dread and uncomfort. 

He suddenly grew conscious of something stirring in his own pants, something that hadn’t been there before viewing the picture. It was confusing, it was weird. But it was also undeniable. He was hard. He’d call Lochlan in a few hours, enforce that boundary again, and be a good big brother. But that wouldn’t be for another few hours. And what Lochlan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

This isn’t real, this isn’t really me… Saxon told himself as he stumbled into his bedroom.

In almost blind lust, Saxon yanked off his sweatpants and his briefs, eyes glued to Lochlan’s picture the whole time. He felt his hand wrap around his cock, concentration locked fully on Lochlan’s face as he began to stroke himself. He felt a whimper escape his lips as he imagined being there, in that bathroom stall with Lochlan. How he’d take Lochlan, shoving him up against the stall door, grabbing his cock out of Lochlan’s hand and into his own, stroking it desperate and demanding, like he was with his own now. How he’d mash his face into Lochlan’s, an act too aggressive to be called kissing, no, he’d eat that boy’s pretty fucking face, bite down on his lips until they bled, swallow him whole. He could imagine Lochlan’s little moans and cries, pleading for his brother to continue, to take him all the way.

And he would, but first he’d grind his hips against Lochlan’s, working him up and driving him to a point of desperate need, making him wail out loud, begging for Saxon’s cock. Saxon would take Lochlan, his legs wrapped around his torso, back pressed against the stall door, as Saxon, one hand wrapped around Lochlan’s body holding him in place, used his other to guide his cock into Lochlan’s entrance. He imagined it going in slowly, the way Lochlan would feel, warm and tight and so fucking breakable around him. The way Lochlan would scream and moan as he did. He’d bite down on Saxon’s shoulder, trying to muffle his sounds as Saxon fucked into him. Legs straining to keep him upright and against the stall door, sweat and spit dripping down their bodies. The pain of Lochlan’s teeth sinking deep into the flesh of his shoulder mixing deliciously with the feeling of him being inside of him, his strokes picking up pace as the stall door banged from the weight of their bodies knocking against it.

The fantasy changed as Saxon continued to work himself up, moaning and whimpering at the thought of his brother riding his cock. A bathroom stall faded into a beach on Costa Rica, the sand scratching against his back as he lay flat on his back, the sound of waves lapping in the background. 

Lochlan was above him, his body rocking up and down, fucking himself on Saxon’s cock. Little ah..ah..ahs escaping his mouth as his body moved up and down on Saxon. His delicate hands stabilizing themselves on Saxon’s muscular chest, his slender fingers grazing Saxon’s sensitive nipples. He could tell it was just an afterthought for Lochlan, whose full concentration was on adjusting to Saxon, his sighs and moans overpowering the sound of the waves crashing against the beach. But it didn’t matter, the added stimulation made Saxon feel insane, and he felt his hips move up, involuntarily speeding up Lochlan’s adjustment process.

“Saxon fuck!” Lochlan would cry out.

 The whole time, however, his head would be pointed upwards to the night sky. All Saxon could see was Lochlan’s beautiful body moving rhythmically on top of him and his slim neck arched up, leading to a sharp, defined jawline. A crown of curls covered the rest of Saxon’s view, silhouetted against the dark night sky.

Saxon looked up with Lochlan. He’s not sure, but for a moment swears there are twice as many stars as usual.

When Saxon comes he can feel tears forming in his eyes, his body shaking in unfathomable pleasure, shame, and humiliation. He wipes his hand that’s covered in his come against his bed sheets, and rolls over onto his stomach. He grabs his pillow and screams into it, frustration and self-hatred rocking his body in intense waves. He can’t stop crying, sobbing, as he realizes what he’s done.

Thailand had been different, so different than this. Saxon had the excuse of being inebriated out of his mind, too gone on alcohol and molly to protest what had been happening to him. Technically, he had never consented to what Lochlan had done to him that night, never said anything to confirm or deny he had been okay with his little brother’s hand stroking him to the point of orgasm.

He was sober now though, and had done this completely voluntarily to his own body. He wants to die, and as he keeps crying into his pillow he thinks he might. From exhaustion, dehydration, or maybe just total mortification.

He’s not sure how much time has passed, maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours, when he hears his phone buzz. Lochlan is calling him. He shoots up, wiping the tears and snot off of his face as he clears his throat.

“Lochlan Elliot Ratliff, what the fuck is wron-”, he begins, his throat scratchy and sore, his voice coming out weird.

“I’m so so so sorry, oh my fucking god! That wasn’t for you Sax, I’m so so sorry, fuck fuck fuck,” Lochlan scrambles on the other side of the phone, panicked and unhinged.

Wait what?

“Who the fuck are you sending those kind of pictures too?!” Saxon falters, feeling his body begin to heat in anger.

“Uhhh, fuck please don’t hate me,” Lochlan mumbles sheepishly over the phone, “it was suppose to be for Brandon.”

“What.”

“We maybe uh, got back together,” Lochlan begins slowly, like his soft and measured tone can somehow control the fury that’s currently building in Saxon, making him go blind with rage.

“You’re fucking joking, oh my god, are you shitting me right now?”

“Um, no?” 

“You realize how fucking stupid you’re being right? First of all, Mom and Dad always told us not to do this fucking shit, if it ever got out that any of us were fucking sending nudes….like you realize anyone can screenshot that right? Or did you suddenly become fucking retarded since I last saw you?”

“No, I’m sorry Sax,” Lochlan whispers quietly.

“But imagine how bad this makes us, and I mean ALL of us, look,” Saxon continued, his voice rising, “something like this would’ve ruined us and that was BEFORE Dad’s investigation….now can you even imagine the repercussions it would have on us?”

“I’m sorry,” Lochlan repeats on the other side of the phone, Saxon can tell that he’s crying.

“And Lochlan, jesus christ, you are so fucking lucky you accidentally sent this to me and not Brandon,” Saxon sighs, trying to calm himself down a little, “I’m just going to delete it off my phone and we’ll never speak about it again. But a guy like Brandon? He’s such a piece of shit Lochy, the second you do something to piss him off he’d use pictures like that against you. I mean seriously, why did you get back with the guy?”

“I don’t know,” Lochlan gasps through his cries, “I’m sorry Saxon, I didn’t mean to do anything wrong, I think…I don’t know.”

“Block him.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Saxon asserts, “block his fucking number, I never want you seeing that little bitch again.”

“Saxon, please,” Lochlan begs through his sobs, “you don’t get it, please let me have this, fuck.”

“It’s me or him, come on Loch,” Saxon says, his voice trembling a little bit in desperation.

He knows his brother loves him, maybe a little too much (definitely too much) but all Saxon has ever done is reject Lochlan’s advances. And, as horrible as Brandon was, at least it was clear he was giving Lochlan exactly what he wanted, something Saxon would never be able to do for him.

“Saxon…I can’t,” Lochlan blubbers, “please try to understand, please.”

“Lochy…” Saxon breaks, and he can feel his own throat beginning to tighten, threatening tears.

“Brandon is just like…I know, I know he sucks Saxon, like he sucks so fucking hard,” Lochlan is crying so hard and fuck Saxon wishes he could be there right now, wrap his arms around Lochlan, comfort him.

“But he’s the only thing I have, the only constant I mean,” he continues, “even when stuff gets bad with us, Brandon is always there, he never leaves. I know I sound so fucking selfish Sax, but fuck I need that.”

“I can be that,” Saxon pleads over the phone, desperate, “I can’t, I mean we can’t…you know…but I’ll fucking be there for you. Please, c’mon Lochy.”

“You’re not going to leave me again? Like you did after Thailand?”

“No, fuck, I swear I won’t, just please, Lochy, please, I need you to fucking trust me on this,” he exhausts.

There’s a long pause of silence from Lochlan’s side, only broken up by little gasps and sniffles. It feels an eternity when he finally speaks.

“Okay.”

“Okay, yeah, we’re okay,” Saxon repeats Lochlan’s word. Okay.

“You don’t hate me?,” Lochlan trembles, shaky,

“No, of course fucking not,” Saxon smiles a little, shaky as well, “Loch you could never do anything to make me hate you.”

“So I’ll still see you in a few days, for spring break?” Lochlan begins, and he sounds so hopeful it makes Saxon’s heart break in two.

“Yeah I guess so,” he laughs, almost hysterical, “the tickets are already booked and I can’t get a refund on them.”

“Okay…yay,” Lochlan whispers softly from the other side of the phone.

“Alright bro,” Saxon grins into the phone, “I’ll see you in a couple days, okay?”

“Yes, thank you Sax, thank you so much.”

“Yeah no problem dude.”

Saxon lays back down in bed, emotions pouring into him. It’s fine, it’s all good, he tells himself. He got his brother to cut off that faggot once and for all, and the nude was going to be deleted from both of their phones, never to be talked about again. 

It is an easy fix, perfect, clean, and fast. It would’ve been at least, if Lochlan hadn’t appeared behind Saxon’s eyes as he began to drift off to sleep. A perfect summer evening on the beach, the stars doubling in the sky above them.

Chapter Text

When they arrive in Costa Rica the air is warm, carrying the scent of fresh rain and hibiscus. 

Lochlan stands just inside the doorway of their hotel room, suitcase in hand, feeling like he’s stepped into someone’s dream. Yellow walls wrapped around them, the color of sunlight. The beds, broad and carved from dark oak wood, sat under a canopy of white curtains, soft and open. Pillows the color of mangoes were stacked neatly on a navy blue quilt. Wicker chairs and a low glass table held a bouquet of crimson-colored flowers and lush green plants. The whole space was alive with color—red, gold, and jungle green. It felt like the room itself was some type of jungle creature.

But it was the windows that caught his attention the most. Floor-to-ceiling, framed in dark, weathered wood, they revealed a view so stunning it embarrassed him to think of what Saxon must’ve spent on this place. The jungle came right up to the glass, thick and unruly, and just beyond that, as if it was a painting come to life, the ocean shimmered and sparkled in the distance.

Lochlan steps onto the room’s balcony. A hammock swayed lazily, suspended over a sea of green trees. In the distance, the water seemed to stretch out forever, the horizon melting into a soft bloom of cotton-candy colored clouds and a setting sun. Birds called out from somewhere in the distance. 

He exhales.

For a second, it didn’t feel like they were on spring break. It didn’t even feel like a vacation. It felt like an escape from Duke, North Carolina, and his family’s expectations—reality in general. It felt like the kind of place where time slowed down and the laws of psychics were more flexible. The kind of place where anything could happen.

He turns, looking back inside where Saxon had dropped his bag and was digging through it, searching for something.

“Not bad, huh?” Saxon says, glancing up with a soft smile.

Lochlan just smiled faintly back and leaned on the railing, eyes drifting out toward the water again.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “It’s beautiful.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, after breakfast the very first thing they do is head to Corcovado National Park. Lochlan had been begging Saxon the second he got confirmation they were really going, sending him every link and article he could find online about the park. He knew Saxon hadn’t really read or even clicked on most of them, but he had arranged for them to go and that was all Lochlan really cared about. 

Despite his extensive research, the rainforest was even more noisy than he had imagined. A thousand soft sounds echoed through the vegetation at all times, all on top of each other: the caw of birds calling from across the canopy, the distant rush of a stream slipping over smooth stones, the low drone of insects that never stopped. Every so often, a branch cracked underfoot, giving off a satisfying crunch .

And it was even more beautiful than the pictures. Corcovado was beautiful in the way ancient cathedrals were beautiful—almost divine, intimating, even a little terrifying. It was the kind of place that didn’t need your admiration, the kind of place that made you feel like you were a guest in someone’s expensive, beautiful mansion. Sunlight flickered through layers of leaves, shadows illumination on the jungle floor. Sweat clung to the back of his neck, his shirt sticking onto him like a second layer of skin, but he didn’t care. None of that mattered when they passed a pair of scarlet macaws or vibrant exotic flowers creeping their way up a huge, thick vine.

But it wasn’t just the wildlife that had him breathless.

There was a system to all of this. The park was a living, breathing organism itself—the way the watersheds were cradled by reforested slopes, how the runoff had been rerouted over years to protect the fragile rivers that poured into the Golfo Dulce. Lochlan knew the history by heart. Had read paper after paper about the engineers and local conservationists who worked side by side, to not just protect the forest, but to build something that could help it last.

He crouched near a stream while their guide spoke softly in Spanish to the others. Clear water raced over smooth rocks, cool against his fingertips.

He imagined what it must’ve looked like twenty years ago. Muddy, clogged, dying. Now it was beautiful, healthy, and perfectly restored. 

“This is wild,” he said out loud, more to himself than to anyone.

He felt someone move besides him. Saxon.

“Yeah,” Saxon said, but there was a tilt to his voice, like he was waiting for Lochlan to continue. “What’s wild?”

Lochlan glanced up. Saxon had his hands on his hips, squinting up against the sun, already sweat-slicked and sun-kissed from their hike. He looked good. Stupidly good. It made Lochlan’s stomach ache.

Lochlan hesitates, “This place. What they’ve done with it. The watersheds used to be trashed, like—completely ruined. Sediment runoff, tree loss, nothing was filtering the flow down to the coast. But they fixed it. And not by just putting up signs that said like ‘don’t touch,’ and shit, but by actually doing real work. Replanting. Redirecting the water’s flow. Reinforcing the banks. Like—”

Saxon’s eyes are wide, blinking. There’s an expression on his face that Lochlan can’t quite read.

Lochlan laughs, almost embarrassed. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I’ll shut up.”

“No, no, no,” Saxon shakes his head fast and says softly, “I wish you were like this all the time, dude. I like hearing what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

 “Oh,” Lochlan mumbles, dumbfounded as he stands up, “I guess I always felt like I was being judged whenever I would like, info dump about this kind of stuff. It’s stupid, I know.”

“No,” Saxon chides, bumping his shoulder playfully as they continue to walk down the trail, “Maybe by Mom and Dad, sure, but never me. Remember how I let you get away with all that stupid magician shit in high school?”

“Hey!” Lochlan protests, grinning, “It wasn’t stupid. But yeah, you were always cool about that kind of stuff, I guess.”

“Yeah, well I’m a cool guy,” Saxon says, puffing out his chest. Lochlan scoffs.

They kept walking. The guide called for them to keep up. And as they followed the trail through vines and dappled gold, Lochlan let himself fall into step beside Saxon—not touching, not saying much, but close enough to hear him breathing. Close enough to feel connected to him.

It feels like peace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The feeling of peace stretches out between them for the next two days—it starts to feel like absolution. It starts this way with the hammock, a soft creaking thing that rocks Lochlan into this kind of stillness he rarely lets himself have. He spends hours reading in it, usually stretched out with one leg dangling off the edge, the ocean view just barely visible between the trees. The air tastes like salt and citrus. Saxon drifts around him, always barefoot, always warm, tan, and glowing—he brings them slices of mango in a bowl and they eat them with his fingers, letting the juices drip over their hands. Saxon will always offer Lochlan the ripest pieces without saying a word.

Their days stretch out for miles, sultry and golden. They swim in the mornings when the tide is low and the waves lap gently at their calves. They dry off lying in the sand, shoulders touching. Sometimes Lochlan will think he catches Saxon staring at him with a look he’s never seen on his face before–almost hungry. He tries to ignore this, tells himself he’s seeing things.

They cook easy food in the tiny kitchen—shrimp sizzling in a pan, plantains sliced and fried, eggs cracked into a bowl with bits of onion and pepper. The windows are always open. Music plays from Saxon’s phone, soft and sun-dazed. Once, Lochlan catches himself humming along. Saxon doesn’t say anything about it so he doesn’t stop.

The fourth day starts the same way. Breakfast in the hotel; ripe fruit, mild shrimp, and buttery eggs. They spend the rest of the morning and the early afternoon on the beach, getting wine drunk and soaking up the sun; splashing each other in the ocean and wrestling one another into the soft sand. Saxon leans over and presses his mouth against Lochlan’s shoulder, a subtle imitation of a kiss. Lochlan tilts his head up in bliss, the sun beating down on him.

They end up passing out in their respective hotel beds in the middle of the afternoon, worn out and sweaty from their morning activities. Lochlan wakes up a few hours later, still feeling fuzzy and warm from the wine. His skin is burning and dry, tight. He stumbles out of his bed, trotting over to the bathroom so he can look in the mirror.

He gasps.

His body is a searing red. He can already see his skin peeling off in certain places on his back. He groans, realizing he must have forgotten to apply sunscreen. Saxon’s never going to let this one go. Part of him wants to hide this from him, though he’d have no idea how that would even be possible. Another part of him, the youngest brother, wants to whine and beg for Saxon to make it better. It’s what they’d grown up doing; Saxon putting bandaids on his scraped knees, an ice pack on his feverish head, and tissues against his tear stained cheeks. He misses that part of his childhood, and as silly as it is, he knows Saxon has brought aloe vera.

He lets the latter part of him take over, it’s not like he knows where the aloe vera is anyways. 

Saxon is still laying asleep in his bed, shirtless, freshly tan but not burned in the slightest. Asshole, Lochlan thinks jealousy. He has half his face pressed into the pillow, sleeping peacefully.

“Sax,” he pouts, shaking his shoulder, “wake up.”

“Mmmmh,” Saxon moans, slowly blinking an eye open. He almost immediately breaks into a grin, half of his perfectly-white toothed smile smirking up at Saxon. He laughs a little.

“Not funny,” Lochlan frowns, “It really hurts, Sax.”

“I thought I told you to put on your sunscreen,” Saxon chuckles, pulling himself into a sitting position, hair sticking out from all ends. 

“I forgot,” Lochlan miserably shrugs.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Saxon laughs a little bit harder, his eyes roaming across Lochlan’s skin until a look crosses his face and he nervously stands up.

“Well it’s your lucky day dude,” Saxon continues, “I remembered the aloe vera. Now how screwed would you be without me?”

“So screwed,” Lochlan sighs following him.

They end up in the middle of the room, Lochlan staring out at the ocean as Saxon applies the aloe vera. It’s so cool it stings against the burn and Lochlan hisses.

“Sorry,” Saxon mumbles.

The burning sensation softens and Lochlan finds himself focusing on Saxon’s hands, his fingers. They are tight and rough on his sunburned skin, pressing deep, massaging. The pressure should be painful, it is a little bit, but it mostly makes Lochlan feel like he’s melting like the sun’s melting into the ocean. Red and glowing and beautiful.

“Have you been working out more recently?” Saxon asks quietly, his hands running over Lochlan’s biceps and pecs. He shivers, feeling tight and tense.

“Yeah a little bit,” he replies back, his voice barely above a whisper.

He has since the beginning of the spring semester. If anyone asks he tells them he just wants to spend a lot of his last semester bonding with the few fraternity brothers that he’s actually friends with, who are always begging him to join them at the gym. A deeper, hidden secret part of him started going as soon as Saxon confirmed they were going to Costa Rica. He had been hoping he would notice.

I knew I wasn’t seeing things,” Saxon continued, “I thought you were looking a little bit buffer this week…and in the photo you sent.”

“You looked at that?” Lochlan would have turned even more red if that had been possible.

He knew his brother had accidentally seen the photo, that had been such a fucking embarrassment. But for him to have noticed something like that….Saxon would have had to have looked. 

“Yes,” Saxon says, sucking in his breath.

Oh. 

Saxon continues to work his hands down Lochlan’s back, the pressure of his hands and the cooling burn of the aloe vera feels like it’s breaking him down, contorting his muscles, turning him into something new. He feels Saxon slip one his hands below the waistband of Lochlan’s swim trunks. He gasps.

“You were wearing those little swim trunks you wore on our trip to Thailand yesterday on the beach,” Saxon mutters and Lochlan feels like he’s floating, “they’re way too small on you now, barely fucking covered you. But you knew that, right?”

“No,” Lochlan gasps out, feeling dizzy, “I thought they looked the same.”

“I don’t believe you,” Saxon says, almost-threatening, “and you’re probably burned from that day too but I just can’t see it. Can I…”

He’s pulling on the drawstrings of Lochlan’s swim trunks.

“Yes,” he chokes out so fast he doesn’t even fully process the words as his at first.

Saxon pulls down Lochlan’s trunks almost as fast as Lochlan’s reply. And then he’s on him, hands gripping Lochlan’s ass, rubbing the aloe vera over him in sensual, circular motions with his fingertips. Lochlan whimpers and curls his toes.

“Are you enjoying this? You’re hard.”

“Yes,” Lochlan sheepishly confesses, tears making their way to the corners of his eyes.

“Okay,” Saxon lips are against his ear, he can feel his breath on his cheek, “I’m going to go to the bed. Don’t turn around. Don’t look at me. Don’t move a fucking inch. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Lochlan breathes out.

He can hear the sound of Saxon’s footsteps padding over to his bed. There’s the sound of fabric being removed and the bed creaking. Lochlan hears the sounds of a bottle open (Sunscreen? More aloe vera?) and Saxon’s heavy breathing. There’s the sound of something slick, wet, and rhythmic. Skin on skin. Saxon is touching himself , he realizes and his body shakes in pleasure.

“You can touch yourself too baby,” he hears his brother say in a low tone, almost dangerous, “just go slow, okay?”

Lochlan nods, takes some of the aloe vera that’s been slicked onto his chest and covers his hand in it. He brings his palm down to his cock and wraps his fingers around it, moaning almost instantly in relief.

“You have no idea how much I fucking love you,” Saxon continues from the bed, “how much I’ve been trying to push down all these sick thoughts I keep getting about you in my head, denying myself. I just wanna take care of you Lochlan, fuck. I know you want the same thing I do, I know, but we can’t….you know why, right?”

“I know,” Lochlan gasps out between his strokes, staring out at the sun that’s burning into the ocean, matching the sensation that’s stirring in his stomach. 

“I want you to say it.”

“We’re brothers,” he sobs out, his whole body on fire. He could burn up from it right here, he thinks. From the shame, the desire, the pleasure, the humiliation. It’s everything he’s felt for Saxon turned up to an impossible degree.

“That’s right, but God. you really don’t act like we are sometimes, drives me fucking crazy,” Saxon moans, “And it’s so unfair, so fucking unfair because I have to act like we are all the time, Lochlan. If I didn’t…If I was allowed to-I’d-”

Saxon makes a sound so primal, so uncontrolled, it makes Lochlan’s hip involuntarily thrust into his own hand.

“What,” Lochlan chokes out, “what would you do?”

“ Please , Lochlan, don’t, ” Saxon is begging through his moans. Lochlan knows that Saxon would never admit any of this if they weren’t both still slightly wine drunk and hot with desire. And even then he doesn’t know if he can get Saxon to confess what he wants him to next, he knows that Saxon thinks if he says this next part aloud they can’t come back from it.

“C’mon,” Lochlan begs back, feeling desperate, “Sax just tell me, fuck.”

Saxon whimpers and Lochlan knows he’s going to give in. He always has for him.

“I know you Loch, I know you,” he pants, “I just wanna be good for you, give you what you want.”

“Yeah? What do I want?”

“Fuck, I fucking saw you in Thailand,” Saxon spits out, “The way you looked at me the first night in the hotel room, and out at the pool. The way you looked at my dick as you jerked me off, so fucking hungry. You’re starving for it aren’t you?”

“Mmm,” Lochlan moans, pleasure hitting him like waves.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, fuck.”

“I know, I know you baby. I’d let you take it, take it all the way down your throat. Face fuck you until you couldn’t take it anymore. I’d make sure you were so full that you'd never go hungry again.”

Lochlan can feel water streaming down his cheeks, his vision going blurry from sweat and tears. The ocean sunset turns into a swirl of colors before him, flashing with an intensity that matches his strokes. Lochlan's hand moves with the same rhythm as the waves outside, stroking himself in time with Saxon's heavy breaths and the gentle slap of his palm against his skin. The sound of the ocean washed over him, a steady crescendo that matched his own building climax. It’s all so much too much at once.

"You're so fucking perfect," Saxon murmurs from the bed, his voice thick with lust, "so beautiful, so...fuck, I wish you could see yourself right now."

Lochlan bit his lip, his eyes still glued to the horizon. He could see the last sliver of the sun disappearing into the sea, leaving a fiery trail in its wake. 

"Sax," he whispers, his voice strained, "I'm close."

"Me too," Saxon groaned, the mattress creaking under his shifting weight, "Keep going, baby. Don't stop."

The room grew hotter, the tension thick like the humidity outside. The smell of coconut sunscreen and sweat mingled with the faint scent of alcohol from their skin. Lochlan's eyes fluttered shut, his breath coming in quick gasps as he pictured Saxon's hand around his own cock.

"What are you thinking about right now?," Saxon demanded, his voice barely a growl, "I wanna hear you."

Lochlan stuttered, his knees threatening to buckle, "Fuck, Sax, you just you."

“Good,” Saxon sighs, “that’s my good boy.”

And then he was there, spilling over his own hand with a cry that was drowned out by the roar of the ocean. Saxon's own moan echoed through the room, so intense Lochlan began to heave through his sobs. He gasped out, taking big breaths, as he felt himself come down from his orgasm.

They stay like that for a moment, the only sound is their ragged breaths and the distant crash of waves.

“You can turn around now,” Saxon whispers out.

When Lochlan turns around, Saxon is lying there, his hand still wrapped around his cock, a look of pure ecstasy etched on his face. For a second, Lochlan feels like he could see the years of pent-up desire between them, a maelstrom of emotions that had been building since they were children.

They didn't speak, didn't need to. Lochlan walked over to the bed, his legs shaky, and lay beside Saxon, who opened his arms, pulling Lochlan into him. 

Saxon took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling. "I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Lochlan leaned into him, resting his head on Saxon's shoulder, his heart racing. "For what?"

"For letting you see me like that, for being like that around you" Saxon said, his voice a soft mumble, "I know you know, but I was trying so hard not too…."

“It’s okay Sax,” he whispers into his skin, “I wanted it.”

“I know you did,” Saxon pressed his lips to Lochlan’s scalp, kissing him, “doesn’t mean it's a good idea.” 

They sat there for a while, the sun fully set now, the moon casting a glow over their room, the sound of the waves lulling them to sleep.

Chapter Text

It’s raining when Saxon wakes up.

Thunder rolls in, rain patters on the roof. He can’t tell if it’s nighttime or daytime, the clouds casting dark shadows across the jungle and beach in the distance. Doesn’t matter, he thinks to himself, it’s not like Lochlan and I had any pressing plans.

Lochlan.

He flips over in and sure enough, Lochlan is sound asleep, naked in his bed. The memories from earlier come flooding back to him. They fell asleep naked, wrapped in each other’s arms ( fuck that was bad), after jerking off to each other ( fuck that was even worse), which Saxon himself had initiated ( oh god oh fuck) . Waves of disgust and nausea roll over his body and he stumbles to the bathroom. He thinks briefly he might get sick, might throw up into the toilet like he did that morning in Thailand.

Stop, stop, this isn’t that bad, he tries to tell himself, neither one of you two touched each other, right? 

But he had, he had touched Lochlan. Volunteered to cover him in aloe vera, fucking massaged it into him, taken off his swim shorts, told him he could jerk off over Saxon.

Saxon had gotten off to him.

And the things he had told Lochlan, fuck that wasn’t suppose to happen . How did Lochlan get that out of me? 

After he’s pretty confident he’s not going to throw up he braves a look in the bathroom mirror. Immediately, he feels like he’s going to be sick again. There’s dried come on his stomach that he hadn’t bothered to wash off, flaky and crusty. He gags a little, feeling tears form in his eyes. He turns on the shower, desperate to get rid of any evidence of him and Lochlan’s escapade. 

The shower is burning hot and Saxon feels like he might stay in there forever, even after his skin has turned a raw red and his fingers pruny. He lets the water run over his face, blinking it out of his eyes. If he stays in here long enough, he thinks, he’ll be a new person by the time he steps out. A person absolved from his sins, from his attractions and desires. Because the person he was earlier wasn't him, or it wasn’t supposed to be. He had been doing such a good job recently of separating the real version of himself from this weird, fucked up fake version. He scrubs the evidence off his stomach until red, irritated marks appear on his skin.

In a daze he dries himself off, puts on his pajamas, and stumbles back into the main room. The sight of Lochlan in his bed makes any sense of peace he had regained in the shower come crashing down. His baby brother is still sound asleep, curled up in a small ball and snoring softly. His curls are falling over his face and his long, delicate lashes flutter ever so often. It makes Saxon ache.

With a start, he realizes Lochlan never cleaned himself off afterwards either. He quickly takes a washcloth and runs it under warm water, not as hot as his shower was but still warm enough that it’s not unpleasant against the skin. He teeters back over to his bed where Lochlan is sleeping, and before he can think, peels back the covers.

He sucks in a small breath, his jaw tightening. His brother’s body twitches slightly as he sleeps, naked and resting right below Saxon. Alone, in the quiet of the room with Lochlan still asleep, Saxon allows himself defeat. He has always been so unbelievably beautiful; curly hair with soft lips and long eyelashes. When they were younger, Saxon used to tease Lochlan during Sunday church service, point at the cherubs in the glass windows and whisper, “that’s you”. Then, as he got older, during the rare moments that he did pray, he would find himself begging God to make his brother look like anything but that . That he would grow out of this ingenue, waif-like body. A body with fair skin flecked with little moles that Saxon used to kiss after wrestling him down to the carpet floor as a child. The memory makes his throat tighten.

He pushes past it, reaches down and begins to clean Lochlan off. At the touch of the towel Lochlan murmurs, twitches again, and blinks up at Saxon.

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice hoarse with sleep.

“Hey,” Saxon whispers back.

“You’re crying,” Lochlan frowns, his forehead furrowing.

“No, I’m not,” Saxon mutters because he’s not.

“What’s this then?” Lochlan asks, scooting into a sitting position.

He reaches up and his fingers brush against Saxon’s cheek before he can flinch away. When his hand pulls away it’s wet.

“I don’t know, sweat probably. It’s hot as balls in here,” Saxon laughs but it’s unconvincing.

“You always do this,” Lochlan mumbles, “you always get so weird whenever something happens between us.”

“Don’t say that,” Saxon hisses, “don’t say that like this kind of stuff happens between us.”

“But it does,” Lochlan states simply, like it’s not the most devastating thing in the world.

Saxon shakes his head and wordless continues to clean him off. Lochlan closes his eyes and leans back so Saxon can get a better angle of him. He lets out a small sigh of content at the sensation of the cloth against his skin and Saxon involuntarily shivers.

“I hate that it’s like this between us,” he whispers, trying to ignore the feeling Lochlan’s little sigh had sent shooting down his body.

“For someone that hates it you sure feed into it a lot,” Lochlan mutters, annoyed but he lets Saxon continue to clean him off.

“I feel like I failed you,” he admits and Lochlan’s eyelids flutter open at that.

“What do you mean?”

“Like…you’re right, I do feed into it a lot,” Saxon shrugs, “but I don’t want to, I just….I don’t think I ever figured out how to be a good brother to you.”

“You are a good brother,” Lochlan smiles softly up at him and it makes Saxon melt a little.

“Good brothers don’t do what we do. And I’m the oldest so it was my responsibility to set an example for you. Now look at us.”

“Please,” Lochlan scoffs, but he’s still smiling, “get over yourself, dude. The world’s not ending, you’re fine. I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Positive,” Lochlan assures, and leans up to kiss Saxon on the cheek. 

“Okay,” he sighs, happy that Lochlan knows him well enough to kiss him, but not to try to kiss him anywhere else.

“So…”, Lochlan drawls out, flopping back down on the end, propping himself up on his elbows, “what do you wanna do now?”

He bites his lip and bats his big brown eyes suggestively up at Saxon. His body goes hot, heat pouring into his stomach.

I’m going kill this kid one day, Saxon swears.

“I want you to get dressed,” Saxon instructs, standing up, “I’m going to go outside and read for a little bit.”

“Ugh,” Lochlan exclaims, throwing the towel at Saxon, “you’re no fun.”

Saxon darts out of the way, the come-covered towel just missing him.

“And yet, you love me regardless,” he laughs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little while later, Lochlan joins him in the hammock. It’s still raining outside, droplets spilling onto the balcony, but far enough away from them to still enjoy the rainshower. His brother crawls over, resting his body on top of Saxon’s, his head on his chest. Saxon grimaces, feeling a desperate ache to push him off. Instead he ignores Lochlan, trying to focus on his book.

He spends the next couple of minutes rereading the same sentence over and over again.

Lochlan’s fingers fly up and snatch Saxon’s glasses off of where they are perched on his nose.

“Hey! I was reading,” Saxon chides.

“No you weren’t,” Lochlan smirks up at him, “you were doing that thing where you pretend to read while you’re ignoring me.” 

Saxon sighs and leans his head against the hammock’s ropes. He sets the book down on the balcony floor below them next to where Lochlan had placed his glasses, his other hand finding Lochlan’s hair, running his fingers through it. Lochlan makes a happy sound, almost like a purr. It makes Saxon chuckle. He closes his eyes, content.

“What does it feel like, being with a guy?” Saxon asks softly after a few minutes.

Lochlan looks up at Saxon with a mischievous glint in his eyes like he’s asking, “wanna find out? ”.

Saxon laughs, “Don’t get any ideas, Lochy, I’m just curious.”

Lochlan lays his head back down on Saxon’s chest, sighs, “Uh-huh.”

“Mmm-hmmm.”

“Ummm…” Lochlan hums, thinking after a few seconds, “really good.”

“Okay,” Saxon snorts.

“Shut up,” Lochlan laughs, “I mean I don’t know how to describe it. It does feel really fucking good, it also hurts a little too, when you’re the bottom, but it’s worth it.”

“It always hurts? I thought it might just be, I don’t know, the first time?” Saxon asks, flustered. Maybe this is too personal for him and Lochlan to be talking about.

“Uh, I think it depends on the guy you’re with,” Lochlan trails off, his voice growing softer, “There’s been a one or two guys I hooked up with where I haven’t really felt any pain at all, but usually it’s a little….yeah.”  

“Oh,” Saxon mumbles, his one hand dangling off the hammock coming up and wrapping around Lochlan protectively. His thumb rubbing little circles on Lochlan’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort.

“It’s whatever,” Lochlan says, shrugging. Saxon frowns, it’s not whatever. Not to him.

“Did it always hurt when you were with Brandon?”

“Ugh,” Lochlan mutters, pressing his face into Saxon’s shirt like he’s trying to hide himself, “I don’t wanna talk about that.”

“Hmmm..” Saxon bends his head down to plant a kiss on Lochlan’s head, “you know he told me about how you guys got together? I mean your first time with him.”

Lochlan pulls his head off of Saxon’s shirt, looking pale.

“No he didn’t”

“Yeah,” Saxon nods, “why do you think I punched him.”

Tears are forming in Lochlan’s eyes, “That’s so fucking embarrassing. I hate him so much.”

Then why did you stay with him? Saxon wants to ask, but he refrains.

“I mean, it’s fine, they were always kind of weird about hazing, even when I was there,” Saxon whispers, “I mean nothing like that , but you know…I remember one of the brothers made me watch gay porn.”

He chuckles a little bit.

“Oh. It was hazing?” Lochlan’s voice sounds tight and wavering.

Alarm shoots through Saxon’s body.

“What do you mean, ‘it was hazing’? You don’t remember?”

“Uhhh,” Lochlan says, taking a deep breath, “not really.”

Saxon tightens his grip on Lochlan, “What do you remember from it?”

“Fuck,” Lochlan says burrowing his face back into Saxon’s chest, “I umm was really drunk. And high. I don’t remember most of that night to be honest, Sax, I-,” Saxon can hear Lochlan let out a little sob into his shirt. His stomach clenches. 

“I just remember being on that basement floor and him being on top of me, and then my clothes were off, so,” he shudders.

“Okay, okay,” Saxon says rubbing his back, “fuck I’m sorry, we don’t have to keep talking about it. I’m sorry, baby.”

“That was my first time,” Lochlan mumbles and Saxon feels something in him break.

“Jesus christ.”

“Yeah.”

He lets Lochlan cry into his shirt, wet, hot tears staining the fabric. He continues to hold him tight, pressing little kisses on his forehead. He doesn’t know what else to do, how else to make it better. He hates this, wishes he could be better at this, better for him.

“I wish it had been you.”

A strange noise escapes Saxon’s throat, which feels tight and locked suddenly.

“I’m sorry,” Lochlan cries softly, “I know it’s not appropriate, and–”

“No, no,” Saxon whispers, “it’s okay. I wish it had been me too.”

Lochlan lifts his tear-stained face off of Saxon’s chest, reaches out and grips the rope material next to Saxon. He pulls himself up a little bit, his face only inches away from Saxon’s, his breath hot on his face. His nose bumps against Saxon’s, eyelids fluttering closed. Saxon’s heart lurches.

“Lochy,” Saxon sighs, “we can’t.”

“Please,” Lochlan murmurs, desperate.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Saxon repeats, “anything, I’ll do anything for you, you know that. Just…I can’t, we can’t….”

After what feels like an eternity, Lochlan rests his head back down on Saxon, crying harder. Saxon blinks, feeling his own tears fall onto his cheeks. He spends the rest of the rainstorm pressing kisses on the top of Lochlan’s head, muttering apologies, and holding him tight.

It’s not enough , a voice whispers in the back of his head, you’ll never be enough for him like this.

He hates that he knows that the voice is right, but he doesn’t know what else he can be without breaking himself down into someone completely new. 

Chapter Text

Lochlan wakes up, sticky with sweat, the air heavy with salt and heat.

The sun’s just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden glow out across the jungle. Light filters through the dense trees, their dark outlines sharp against the sky as mist clings to their trunks, like ghosts, floating through in the haunting humidity. 

The rain has stopped, but the jungle hasn’t fully let go of its wetness yet. A fine mist drifts through the air, settling on the balcony railing and the worn wooden floors, stretching across their space. The scent of the jungle is rich in the air, fresh and crisp, tinged with the earthy smell of the rain, and something almost sweet—floral notes from the trees mixing with the salt of the ocean breeze.

Lochlan shifts, struggling to get up out of the hammock without waking up Saxon. They had both passed out in the middle of the rainstorm, Saxon cradling him and whispering apologies in his ears as he hushed Lochlan to sleep. It had been the best Lochlan had ever slept in his life, the sound of the rain and his brother’s whispers lulling him into a peaceful slumber. As he wiggles free from his grasp, he can’t help but look down at Saxon.

  Saxon is still asleep below him, relaxed in a way Lochlan barely ever sees. He looks ethereal in the morning light, his features giving off the appearance of a Roman god, a spitting image of what Lochlan always imagined Adonis to look like. The messy tangle of his hair falls across his forehead, a light brown color that the sun has kissed blonde in some areas, as if it was gifting him an early souvenir from their vacation. His skin, golden and perfectly-tan, still holds the warmth of the morning on the beach from the day before, a contrast against the soft, cool mist of the morning. His lips, usually tight with control, are slightly parted, exhaling slow, even breaths. 

His chest rises and falls with each breath, steady and peaceful. The tension that usually runs through him is gone, replaced by a vulnerability that Lochlan rarely ever sees. And, though it’s rare, Lochlan shivers with the knowledge he’s one of the few people that ever gets to see him like this. To most, Saxon is this imposing figure, a Duke graduate who worked his way back up to the top of the corporate ladder from his father’s bankrupt, scandalized company. A man who carries the weight of his world on his shoulders. To Lochlan, however, Saxon will always be this, a shining example of strength and masculinity—but one who can still surrender to softness in certain moments, for certain people. People like me , the thought sends ache through Lochlan’s body, 

Dread creeps its way up Lochlan’s back as he continues to stare at Saxon, making its home in his throat. He couldn't believe that after everything that had happened yesterday, Saxon had let Lochlan climb on top of him, held him while he cried, and Lochlan had almost kissed him. With a pang, Lochlan wonders what would have happened if he had closed the gap anyways, if there was a chance Saxon would’ve kissed him back. He had in Thailand.

But Lochlan was trying to work on boundaries, especially Saxon’s. And he was scared he had still somehow managed to fuck everything up. He wasn’t used to them toeing the line between platonic intimacy and sexual this much without some kind of repercussion from Saxon. I should prepare for him to be cold and distant once he wakes up, Lochlan reminds himself, everything that’s happened just probably didn't hit him last night. It will eventually.

Lochlan pads over to the shower, letting the warm water drip over him, cleansing his body from Saxon’s touches from the night. It almost pains him to do so. Though there’s no physical evidence of him being held by his brother, he could swear he could still feel the ghost of his fingertips against his skin. 

By the time he stumbles out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, Saxon is awake and sitting up, his silhouette framed by the warm glow of the morning light. For a moment, Lochlan just watches him, the way the sun highlights the contours of his muscles and his perfectly sculpted face, the careless way his hair falls across his forehead.

Saxon rubs a hand over his face, and then stands, stretching his muscles in a way that makes Lochlan feel tingly and warm, a rush hitting his body that he forces down. The sound of Saxon’s feet shuffling across the floor is muffled, and the next thing Lochlan hears is the soft click of the balcony door sliding open. There’s a moment of silence, and then Saxon’s voice cuts through the quiet, low and still heavy with sleep. 

“Hey,” he says softly, and Lochlan feels his body tense, “What time is it?”

“A little after 6am,” Lochlan smiles hesitantly, “you missed a really beautiful sunrise. I almost thought about waking you up but I didn’t wanna disturb you.”

Saxon laughs, “Damn you were up early, huh? Hey, since our check out time isn’t until 11am, how about we head into town? Get some coffee or breakfast or whatever.” A small playful grin plays at the corners of his lips. “I don’t know about you, but I could go for something that doesn’t come from our fridge.”

Lochlan blinks, his throat still a little tight with dread, though it’s starting to dissipate. He nods, pulling his towel up a little bit, and self-consciously meets Saxon’s gaze. 

“Yeah,” he says, his voice hopeful, “that sounds good. We could get some coffee...oh or maybe some shakes!”

“A shake?” Saxon laughs, “Always turning your nose up at mine but suddenly when I’ve finally stopped making them for you, you miss them?”

“No,” Lochlan playfully smirks, “just figured you’d be missing them by now. With all the eggs and shrimp we’ve been having.”

“Oh,” Saxon pauses, his mouth going soft and slightly surprised for a second before it curves back up into a smile, “that’s nice of you.”

“Yeah whatever,” Lochlan shrugs, blushing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The road into town is still covered in puddles that were left by the storm, little glints of leftover rainwater catching the sunrise’s rays. Lochlan’s sandals slap against the wet concrete. It felt a little cold outside, a little humid — but it felt good. Normal. Like they weren’t brothers trapped in some kind of endless war between disgust and devotion with each other, just two guys out taking a morning walk, unbaggaged by the world and each other.

He bumps into Saxon by accident the first time. Or maybe not entirely by accident. Saxon looks over with a quick, curious glance, but Lochlan just grins and keeps walking like nothing had happened. A few seconds later, he does it again — this time on purpose, shoulder nudging into Saxon’s arm, a little harder than necessary. Saxon laughs. Not his usual loud laugh, but the real kind — low, surprised, like it had slipped out before he could think better of it. Lochlan looked over and caught a glimpse of Saxon smiling in a way he had never seen before, almost bashful.

The street narrowed as they moved closer to the center of town. The ocean wasn’t far, he could still smell it in the air, salt mixed with sun and sweat. And despite the walk into town being cold, everything within the town felt warm somehow. 

Lochlan bounces his shoulder into Saxon’s again, one last time, just for good measure. He knows he’s being annoying at this point but he can’t help it. Saxon looks down at him beaming, a bright white smile plastered over his face.

“You’re in a good mood,” he amuses.

Lochlan raises his brows playfully, “Oh what? Is that like a bad thing? I can’t enjoy myself on our last day of this lovely vacation?”

“No.” Saxon’s voice is soft. “It’s just… nice. I wasn’t sure how’d you feel after last night, I–uh…I’m glad you’re so happy.”

Lochlan turns away, but he feels Saxon’s gaze linger — not in the obvious way, but in a way Lochlan was becoming incredibly intimate with. From the beginning of the vacation he noticed that there was a quiet, reverent way that Saxon had started looking at him when he thought Lochlan wouldn’t notice. It made something sharp and sweet twist in his gut.

Saxon points up ahead. “There.”

Lochlan follows his gaze to a pale blue truck tucked near the edge of the beach — “Gaby’s Fast Food Truck” inscribed on the side with big bold letters, humming with life. A curl of smoke drifted from the little vent in its roof, and a chalkboard sign leaned against the side with scribbled offerings: coffee, empanadas, breakfast sandwiches, and fresh smoothies and shakes. The scent of frying dough, coffee grounds, and grilled egg hit them like a blanket.

“Oh boy,” Lochlan grins smugly at Saxon, “wonder what you’ll be getting.”

“Fuck you,” Saxon laughs, “I’m getting a myself coffee just to spite you.”

They step up to the window, and the woman inside gives them a familiar nod, like she’s seen plenty of boys like them before. Tired eyes, sunburnt noses, standing too close to each other and pretending not to notice it.

Lochlan orders a strawberry smoothie and an empanada stuffed with cheese and herbs. Saxon gets a black coffee and an egg white breakfast sandwich. They carried it over to a low stonewall overlooking the beach and sit down on the ledge shoulder to shoulder, warm paper bags in hand. The world was still mostly asleep, the sound of the waves crashing against the beach and seagulls cawing were the only reminder that they weren’t completely alone.

They linger on top of the stonewall long after they've finished eating, watching the waves, talking in endless circles about their favorite parts of the vacation. The warm smell of oil and sweet fruit drifts from the food truck, the sun beating down on them as the morning grows later. The beach was still nearly empty — just the slow roll of waves and the scatter of birds squawking at the tide line. Lochlan sits cross-legged on the wall, one hand around his smoothie, the other braces next to Saxon. He tries not to think about it, how close they are, how close their hands are. Fingers occasionally brushing. Instead, he focuses on the feeling of the sun brushing down on the nape of his neck, warm but still low enough not to sting.

“You’ve got something,” Saxon says quietly.

Lochlan looks up at him, confused. “Huh?”

“Crumbs,” Saxon murmured.

Before he could reach for a napkin or duck away in embarrassment, Saxon leans forward. He’s not slow, hesitant, or calculated, just causal like what he’s doing was second nature. His thumb brushes the corner of Lochlan’s mouth, slow and gentle. Just a few crumbs, just a light press of skin against the corner of Lochlan’s lips. But suddenly the sun feels a thousand times hotter on him, comforting and sensual, and he instantly understands why humans invented the phrase sunkissed . He suddenly understands why people have summer affairs.

He realizes he’s holding his breath, but he can’t seem, for the life of him, to remember how to. Saxon’s close enough that Lochlan can see a small scar near his nose and smell the coffee on his breath; faintly bitter and sour but somehow still erotic. Exciting. Saxon is letting Lochlan in, letting him close enough to be a witness to his imperfections. Close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off him. The world feels suddenly very narrow and simultaneously much too big: Saxon’s thumb at the corner of his mouth, and the look on his face — soft, searching, tender, and fond. Lochlan swallows hard, nervous.

“Gotcha,” Saxon hums, and his hand drops away like nothing had just happened.

And despite the sun still shining bright in the sky, the rain returns in a hush. Soft patters that cool the air and send shimmers across the ocean waves. Lochlan tilts his head up, blinking up at the sky, taking it all in. The palm fronds above them whisper in the breeze, and somewhere in the distance, the tide keeps pushing in and out, slow and indifferent to the change in weather.

Saxon makes a disappointed noise—quiet, breathy—as a drop lands right on the bridge of his nose. Lochlan giggles.

 “We should probably move,” he mutters, and before Lochlan could answer, Saxon playfully pushes him off the wall and onto the sand. 

“Race you!” Saxon calls from ahead of Lochlan, laughing as he sprints away from the beach.

“Hey, not fair!” Lochlan exasperates, but he’s grinning from ear to ear. This was so typical Saxon from when they were kids, always playing dirty.

They jog down the road, crackling as they race back to the hotel. Lochlan chasing him the whole way.

It happens without thought.

They’re almost to the hotel, Lochlan can see it in the distance. And he’s so close, he’s gaining on Saxon, just inches away from him. Lochlan reaches out—because fuck it, he can play dirty too. He means to grab Saxon’s arm, yanks him backwards, and use the force to accelerate him ahead. But he stumbles forward, and his grip falls around Saxon’s wrist instead. It’s just a flicker of an instinct, a second of warmth from their childhood memories—but suddenly he’s five again and he’s moving his fingers downwards and slipping them between Saxon’s. 

Fuck.

Saxon stops in his tracks, silent. But Lochlan feels it burn anyway, the shame and embarrassment of his reaction electric between them. 

He lets go instantly. It was nothing. It was a second. But Lochlan feels nauseous, he knows this is it, this is the line being crossed again. Saxon might have let him do all that last night, might have let him be gross and overly affectionate, but that had been in the privacy of their hotel room. It had been while Lochlan had been having a breakdown, going through the motions. This was the middle of the day, in public, when Lochlan had no excuse to need any kind of physical comfort. He bites his cheek, trying to hold back his tears, bracing himself for Saxon’s reaction.

“Hey,” Saxon whispers softly, bending down a little as he creeps closer, as if trying not to intimidate Lochlan, “you okay?”

It reminds Lochlan of winter break, of when Saxon was cautiously gentle with him the way good people were with dogs they found on the side of the road.

“Yeah, um, sorry,” Lochlan mumbles, shifting self-consciously, “I didn’t mean to–”

“Nah,” Saxon murmurs, smiling, and he reaches back out, his fingers clumsily interlocking with Lochlan’s, “don’t sweat it.”

His fingers stay laced between Lochlan’s the whole way back, even while they’re in the lobby waiting for the elevator. His grip on Lochlan is tight but comforting, quiet and deliberate, like he’s scared if he lets go of him that Lochlan is going to disappear. Lochlan grins silly, stupidly.

Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend, a childish, delusional voice sings in his head as he tries to hide his blushing face in his own shoulder. 

He’s never had a boyfriend before, Brandon had been the closest he had ever gotten to that, and even then he was aware that was far from what they were. He’s never had this before, someone taking him out to nice places, paying for his food, holding his hand on their way back home.

Boyfriend. 

He knows Saxon will never be that, that they can never have that with each other, not really. But right now, in this moment, he doesn’t care. This is enough , he thinks, Saxon’s hand still wrapped tightly in his, thumb brushing fondly against Lochlan’s fingers. This is enough for a lifetime.

The elevator opens and Saxon pulls him into it. And the next thing Lochlan knows the elevator’s door closes and Saxon drops his hand just to place both of them around his waist, picking him up, twirling him around. Lochlan laughs, body hot and dizzy, feeling high and lightheaded with happiness. Saxon laughs too, placing him gently back down on the floor, pressing him against the elevator wall. The steel is cool against his back, a stark contrast to the burning sensation Saxon fingers are creating, still wrapped around Lochlan’s waist. He leans down, pressing kisses all over Lochlan’s neck and shoulders, leaving him a giggling, sweaty mess.

“Anything baby, I’ll do anything for you,” he says under his breath, “Remember I told you? Anything, anything, anything, anything.” 

He repeats the word in whispers, over and over again in between the kisses.

Anything.

Chapter Text

Saxon can’t stop thinking about kissing Lochlan.

It had started the morning after the night they had spent together in the hammock. Lochlan padding out of the shower, acting all shy and skittish. Dripping wet and completely naked with the exception of a soft white towel that was draped across his waist. Maybe it was the way the morning sun shone on his wet body, highlighting his slender waist and subtle muscles. Maybe it was the soft, meek way he was speaking to Saxon. Like he was scared of how Saxon would react to him after their night together. Maybe it was because of the night they had spent in the hammock, Lochlan’s lips only inches away from his, begging for it.

The memory makes him ache. He tries to brush the thought away, telling himself that he can’t stop thinking about it because it almost happened, not because he wants it. And even if he does, that doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do. The right decisions are usually the hardest to make , he reminds himself.

The sensation, the desire, the need to kiss Lochlan hits him again full force, just a few hours later. They're in the elevator heading back up to their room and Saxon can’t stop, can’t help himself. His hands on Lochlan’s waist, picking him up, twirling him around, pressing him against the cool, smooth wall of the elevator. Pressing his lips against Lochlan’s cheeks, neck, and shoulder. Lochlan eliciting excited, breathless giggles and gasps as he does so. It makes his skin crawl and itch, he feels like he’s on fire.

I could take him right here, the most vile, evil voice in the back of his head whispers to him.

As always, he tries to push the thought down, brush it off. But the voice won’t go away this time, if anything it just gets louder and louder. It’s the elevator’s ding! That saves him, snaps him out of whatever spell he had been stuck under.

This is new, the voice not going away. It sneaks up on him later, on the plane ride back. Lochlan with his headphones on, sitting innocently in the seat next to him, playing that stupid mining game that he’s so obsessed with on his phone. He’s literally doing nothing seductive and Saxon can still feel himself getting hot and bothered. Though now he’s starting to realize the voice never really went away, it’s just usually so quiet that Saxon can tune it out, ignore it. And he has been, for years, maybe most of his life.

This realization is horrifying. It means this horrible, sick, and twisted version of Saxon didn’t exist and just took over his body at certain, opportune moments. That it was him, the same version of Saxon that had been doing his best to take care of Lochlan, keep him safe, protect him from his own wants, his self-harming desires (because that’s what it would be, them getting together, nothing good would come of it).

Both of our desires, he realizes, his stomach sinking with horror and disgust.

The voice is screaming at him again, right now, as he sits with Lochlan in the Duke parking lot. 

Kiss him kiss him kiss him kiss him…..

He suddenly understands why Lochlan had been begging him to let him stay with him in this exact parking lot just a few months ago, at the end of winter break. Because he thinks he might actually die if Lochlan leaves right now and he doesn’t kiss him. Doesn’t run his fingers through Lochlan’s curls, press his mouth against his, against Lochlan’s neck, his stomach, anything, everything .

And none of that is going to happen so Lochlan can’t leave. He has to, Saxon knows this, but the idea of it is so incredibly unbearable.

Just a few more minutes and then he’ll be gone, stay strong, come on… he wills himself.

Their goodbye is short but sweet, maybe Saxon comes off as too dismissive but it’s taking every fiber, every molecule in his body not to leap across the car’s central console and do unspeakable acts to his brother. He can practically feel the whine forming in the back of his throat. It’s pathetic how down bad he is, now that he’s suddenly become aware of just how deep his attraction to Lochlan is. He figures the attraction will lessen, or at the very least be put on the back burner while Lochlan’s back at school, and not physically around him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t. He’s constantly checking on his phone. First thing in the morning, while he’s at work, at the gym, and even while he’s making dinner. Constantly hoping there’s a text from Lochlan. And when Lochlan does text he can feel his whole face light up, grinning wide and unrestrained. It’s just as bad as when they started texting again for the first time after years of no contact, worse actually, because now Saxon knows it’s coming from a place of wanting Lochlan. He feels like some kind of fucking teenage girl with a crush on the school’s star quarterback, it’s humiliating.

The crush (and oh my God , he thinks, I'm a man in my thirties crushing on my twinky college-aged little brother) won’t let up and Saxon doesn’t know how to fix it, how to resolve it. Lochlan will find some other guy, he’ll get over his crush on me, he tells himself, like the thought doesn’t make him shake with unrelenting rage.

No! Mine mine mine mine mine!

The thought of Lochlan with anyone else-even a nice, unBrandon-like figure, elicits a childlike tantrum in his head whenever it crosses his mind. It makes Saxon put his head into his hands and groan.

To give himself some credit, he’s been controlling himself pretty well. Them jerking off together in Costa Rica wasn’t great, sure. However, that’s a simple fix. No more aloe-vera massages, or any type of massages probably. The memory of that afternoon, of Lochlan standing against the view of the sunset, naked and taunt and aroused, makes him bite his lip. He had looked so fucking good getting himself off for Saxon, over Saxon. 

Fuck.

He was probably going to jerk off over that memory later himself. He had been doing that a lot lately, ever since they had gotten back from Costa Rica. And before the trip, in the days leading up to it, he had been getting off to that nude picture and that stupid fucking beach fantasy. That wasn’t great either. But it had probably done some good, kept him from acting out on Lochlan physically , or at least more than they had that one afternoon.

And outside of that one time, he had been good, so good. He was kind of a fucking pro at this shit actually, the whole not-giving-into-your-desires thing. 

Holy shit, I’m going Buddhist. Pulling a fucking Piper.

Well, whatever, it was working. And it could keep working, it had too. Because Saxon couldn’t lose Lochlan, not again. Those years after Thailand had been so lonely, so void of anything fulfilling or truly pleasurable. And it had been fine, at the time. He had been so stressed with his father’s trial, with their money situation, with trying to make sure he came out of that situation unscathed and somewhat financially stable.

But now all that’s over. And now he had gotten a taste of affection, of having someone else, someone good in his life. And Lochlan had been more than good, he was fucking everything to Saxon.

So yeah he wasn’t going to give in, he wasn’t going to lose his baby, not again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey,” Saxon smiles into the phone nervously ( fuck, why is he nervous?) , “I just realized someone’s graduation is coming up in a few weeks.”

He didn’t just realize, he’s been counting down the days since Lochlan got out of his car a few months ago. Itching to talk to him about, to make plans to see him again. But whatever.

“Uh yeah,” Lochlan mumbles bashfully, and   Saxon can tell he’s smiling on the other side of the phone. It makes him light up, fucking radiating with joy.

“So? Where are my tickets dude?” Saxon playfully questions, “you didn’t forget to give your big bro one did you?”

Bro, brother, ugh. He’s been trying to use those words more in his texts to Lochlan and in his head when he thinks about him. Trying to remind himself why what he wants is so wrong, why he can't give in as happy as he knows it would make both of them. It hasn’t been working.

“Nah,” Lochlan snickers, “I knew you would eventually call and ask, I was just waiting for you to make the first move.”

Fuck fuck fuck, why does that feel like dirty talk? Why is he the biggest fucking tease on the planet? Does he even know what he’s doing?

Saxon clears his throat, embarrassed. He hopes Lochlan can’t tell how red he is over the phone.

“Whatever,” he scoffs, “who else is going to be there?”

“Ummm,” Lochlan trails off, thinking, “Mom, Dad, and Piper. I couldn’t really think of anyone else. Maybe one of my friends from high school?”

“No boyfriend?”

He’s allowed to ask that. It’s a nice thing to ask, to know if your brother is seeing anyone.

“No,” Lochlan states, and Saxon almost has to hold back a breath of relief, “just family and maybe a friend.”

“Well, um,” Saxon says, blushing, “hey Lochy…I was thinking of something…”

“Yeah?” 

“Well, finals week is next week, and after that your dorm is gonna kick you out. And I know you don’t wanna move back in with Mom and Dad an-”

“Oh, Sax-”

“And I know how much you like my place, and-”

“Saxon, I-”

“I know I said all that stuff about the couch and it giving you back problems, but hey, I’ll sleep on it. My postures fine and it’ll just be-”

“Saxon! I got a job!” Lochlan shouts into the phone.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Lochlan chokes, “I’ll be making enough for my own place, so it’s fine.”

“That’s…that’s great. And hey, I’ll still come visit you all the time so-”

“It’s in Venice.”

Saxon world spins, tilts, shatters. Venice is over four thousand miles away. His baby’s gonna be four thousand miles away. An ocean apart.

“Huh?” 

“I’m sorry, Saxon, I didn’t know, I mean I’ve been trying to tell you, there just wasn’t a good time,” Lochlan fumbles, “There was a job fair at the beginning of the school year while we weren’t talking, and then I had my interview for it when we first started talking again. Remember that one day I told you I’d talk to you on the phone after class and then I didn’t until that evening? That’s what I was doing….I wasn’t….I didn’t know that…I didn’t think we’d…”

“Well I can still come visit you,” Saxon’s trying desperately to cling to something, anything, “I get twenty one days of PTO and if I use them right, take them right before the holidays, I can-”

“Don’t.”

“What,” Saxon gasps, he feels like he can’t breath, he can feel his vision going blurry with tears, “Lochy, bab- sorry-fuck-sorry…did…did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Lochlan’s voice is trembling, Saxon thinks he might be crying too, “I’m sorry Sax, I’m so so sorry but I can’t keep fucking doing this with you.”

“What’s this?” 

“Fuck,” Lochlan’s definitely crying now, “Whatever this is, I don’t know. I just…I just know that I… I fucking want you Sax .”

He whispers that last part into the phone. Saxon lets out a whimper in response. In any other situation he’d be humiliated, but Lochlan doesn’t want to ever see him again, his whole world is ending as far as he is concerned.

“I want you and I can’t fucking….you won’t….it’s not gonna happen,” Lochlan stutters, “and I know why, I know it’s because you love me and are trying to do the right thing, okay? But I can’t…I’m sorry…I can’t… I can’t control myself around you Sax.”

Saxon feels his breath hitch.

“If we keep… I’m going to slip up again, okay?” he’s whispering, ashamed into the phone through his tears, “ It’s going be Thailand all over again and I can’t take you leaving me again.”

“I’m not going leave you ever again, Lochy, come on, fucking please baby,” Saxon’s begging, pleading through his tears.

“Well then I’m going to slip up again, Sax,” Lochlan exasperates, he sounds exhausted. He sounds like he’s in pain. Saxon’s in hell.

“Well we can still try, right? We can find some way to make this work,” Saxon’s willing to do whatever, fuck.

“ No ,” Lochlan states forcefully, sternly. It’s so unlike him, Saxon feels like he’s been slapped.

“Please,” he breathes desperately into the phone.

“Saxon, I’ve never enforced any kind of fucking boundary between us my whole fucking life,” Lochlan sobs, “I’m not…I can’t….please don’t beg…..”

“I want you,” Saxon admits, lamely.

“What?”

“I know you know,” Saxon fumbles, “but I just….I don’t wanna hurt you…I mean if we do this, it would really fuck you up, you know that right?”

“I think we crossed over that threshold awhile ago,” Lochlan whispers, “but yeah.”

“Yeah,” Saxon sighs, “but I was trying to fix it, you know? We could still have a shot–you could still have a shot at a nice, normal life. Find a nice, normal guy? Settle down, get married, have kids, fuck I don’t know. But I know you deserve that.”

“Did you think Brandon was a nice, normal guy?’ Lochlan laughs through his tears.

“No,” Saxon snorts, “but there’s been others…I mean…”

“They’ve all been replacements,” Lochlan states plainly, “for you.”

“Oh,” he mumbles weakly into the phone. He didn’t know that.

“It’s either going to be you, or some fucking frat boy rip off, or I don’t,” Lochlan sighs, “I just…I end up alone. I think it’s going to be that last one, honestly. I can’t do the Brandon thing all over again, and I can’t have you…so….”

“You fucking swear?”

“What do you mean? Why the fuck would I lie about that Saxon? I’ve been trying to fill that fucking void you left in me after Thailand and no one else can fill it so–”

“I need to know that’s true, like completely fucking true,” he sounds manic right now, he probably is.

“Why? Fuck you are such a fucking narcissist sometim-”

“If it’s true then fuck it,” he feels like he’s floating right now, maybe he’ll regret this, but yeah, fuck it.

“What…”

“Like fuck it, okay? If it’s between the two of us dying alone and fucking miserable or like….yeah. I’ll…yeah…whatever you want, remember? Anything, I said that, so let’s do it.”

“Are you fucking with me right now, Saxon?”

“No, God no,” Saxon swears, “just…take your fucking finals. When’s the last one?

“Thursday next week,” Lochlan’s voice is quivering.

“Okay, alright,” Saxon wipes his sweaty palms against his khakis, “come over after Thursday next week. I’ll take you out.”

“Like on a date?”

“Yeah baby, a date,” Saxon laughs, hysterical, “I’m gonna date the shit outta you.”

Chapter Text

At this moment, Lochlan’s life feels too good to be true.

He’s just taken his last final, his graduation is next week, he’s pretty sure he’s aced all his exams, and Saxon’s letting him stay at his apartment for the whole summer, up until he starts his job in the fall. And Saxon’s taking him out on a date. Like a date date. He feels giddy and nervous, his stomach doing a million flips as he walks towards Saxon’s apartment from the Duke campus. It’s fifteen minutes, one mile, but it feels like it’s taking an eternity to get over to his place.

They’ve set some ground rules in place, just so Saxon can “sleep at night” as he’s put it. One, Lochlan is still going to go to Venice. Saxon kept going on and on about how important it was that Lochlan still have a life after college (he doesn’t mention to Saxon that his whole life has always around revolved him, he doesn’t think Saxon would react well to that information), to go to new places, try new things, and meet new people he wouldn’t get to meet if he stayed in North Carolina his whole life.

“You don’t wanna end up like me,” Saxon had bitterly laughed from the other side of the phone, “trust me.”

So, with that being said, the second rule was that Lochlan was still allowed to date other people. And if he found someone he really liked he was going to tell Saxon and they’d rearrange their relationship in whatever way Lochlan would feel most comfortable with. He wanted to laugh the whole time Saxon and him discussed this. He could practically see his brother sitting up right and tense, jaw clenched, teeth gritted as he kept repeating that he didn’t want to ruin his little brother’s life over some kind of confused “crush” and that he should always have a chance to drop whatever they had if he wanted to do so. He doesn’t tell Saxon he’s not confused, in fact he’s never been more sure about something his whole life. He loves Saxon and has since Saxon carried him home from the hospital the day he was born.

There’s not going to be someone else, there never was. 

The third rule is that they are going to try long distance, at least for the first few years. Saxon is going to try to maximize his PTO, save them and use them around certain federal holidays so he can visit Lochlan as much as possible. Almost as soon as they get off the phone he’s already sent Lochlan a spreadsheet he’s typed up of possible days he can fly up. He’s managed to turn twenty one days off from work into forty five in just a few minutes. That makes Lochlan giggle a little. For all of his brother’s teasing when it comes to his Minecraft obsession and magic tricks, he’s just as much of a nerd as him, just in a different way. 

 If the first few years go okay, if Lochlan doesn't find anyone else, Saxon will move there permanently. He doesn’t say it, but Lochlan knows those first years will be just as painful for Saxon as much as they will be for him, possibly more. North Carolina has always seemed so empty and unfulfilling, not just for him but for Saxon too. He often thinks his brother would have ended up a much different person if he had moved away during or after college, away from their father and Southern ideologies. He loves Saxon’s apartment because it’s Saxon ’s but it’s also a total reflection of how empty and devoid he feels on the inside. He imagines Saxon in Venice with him; happy, free, and completely unrestrained, completely himself. Even Lochlan’s not totally sure what that would look like but he thinks it wouldn’t be too far from how Saxon was in Costa Rica. The idea of Saxon soft and at peace makes him ache.

He pushes the ache down, focuses on the present. He still can’t believe any of this is happening, it feels unreal, like some kind of fever dream. Saxon admitted to wanting him while he was sober and in the light of day, saying that they could try, telling Lochlan that he’d take him on a date. 

Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend, the childish voice sings in his head but this time it’s a lot less delusional.

It’s taking practically every fiber of his being not to skip down the sidewalk, all the way to Saxon’s.

“Hey!,” a familiar voice calls out.

Lochlan freezes, feeling his blood run cold.

He turns slowly, heart thudding, and sees Brandon standing across the street, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket like it’s still February and not a humid spring morning in Durham. He looks the same and simultaneously completely different — thinner maybe, sharper somehow, like time and alcohol and disappointment had chiseled away the friendly disguise he’d wear around their fraternity brothers and the general public. There’s something unreadable in his eyes.

Lochlan forces a breath through his nose and steps back and forth nervously, trying not to look like he’s bracing for impact. He can’t tell if he’s angry or scared. Maybe both. He hasn’t seen Brandon since a little before spring break, and he hadn’t heard from him since Saxon had made him block him after the nude photo. Not since Brandon had begged for something outside of Lochlan’s comfort zone, and for once in his life, Lochlan hadn’t given it to him.

Brandon crosses the street in a few easy strides, like nothing’s changed, like Lochlan hadn’t spent the last few months trying to rebuild his life and his idea of what the best-possible relationship he could end up in would look like.

“Hey,” Brandon says, offering that crooked smile that used to get him flustered and nervous, “Heard you were graduating.”

“Yeah,” Lochlan says tightly. “I am.”

Brandon nods, eyes scanning him like he’s checking him out. The thought of that makes Lochlan feel nauseous.

 “You look good,” he finally says.

Lochlan swallows, “Thanks.”

Lochlan suddenly feels like a freshman again, unsure and backed into a corner, shoved into a grimy basement floor, trying to keep himself upright while someone else, Brandon, holds him down. But he’s not that kid anymore. He’s not some little boy who's going to flinch if Brandon raises his voice or stays quiet if he tries to lie to him.

He thinks of Saxon — how safe he feels around him, how careful and tender he’s been since Costa Rica, like Lochlan is something precious that he doesn’t want to break. He thinks about tonight, about the date they’re finally going on, and how much he wants to be present for that. He doesn’t want this interaction with Brandon to ruin it.

“I’ve got somewhere to be,” he says, stepping back. “Congrats on still being alive, I guess.”

Brandon’s mouth twitches like he wants to laugh, but there’s a flash of something bitter in his eyes, “Still got that smart mouth, huh?”

“Still a piece of shit, huh?” Lochlan shoots back before he can stop himself.

It hangs there — something hot and sharp between them.

“I’d be really careful what you say to me if I were you,” Brandon smiles like he knows something Lochlan doesn’t.

“Yeah?” Lochlan says, feeling his voice sink back into that nervous tremble he’d always get around Brandon.

Fuck. 

“I mean c’mon Lochlan, I’m a good guy, I’d never do anything to hurt you, but you’re starting to make me feel like I’ve got no choice. I mean you haven’t been responding to any of my calls or texts, you left me on read months ago after I asked so nicely for like, a basic fucking need, and even worse, you made me thinking you were going to give it to me. I mean what the fuck is going on with you? You were never a tease.”

Lochlan’s terrified, and yet, he can’t help but bite back a smirk, If only he knew, he thought, memories of messing around with Saxon filling his head.

“Maybe I found someone better,” Lochlan shrugs, feeling ballsy, “Someone that actually cares about me and not just getting his dick wet.”

“Oh yeah, I bet,” Bradon’s got a full-on malicious grin now and Lochlan can feel sweat forming on the palms of his hands. 

He wants nothing more than to run down the street, into Saxon’s apartment, and into his arms. Where he knows it’s safe.

“You know they say you never forget your first time. Did you though? Because you’re really fucking acting like it,” Brandon laughs.

Lochlan’s breath catches in his throat, he suddenly feels like he’s sinking.

“I didn’t forget,” he mumbles softly, nervously.

“Well just in case I have a reminder, thought you might like to see it before I send it out to everyone,” Brandon smirks, and he pulls something out of his pocket. 

It’s his phone. It’s the same phone that Lochlan’s seen a million times but it suddenly feels like the most dangerous thing in the world. Lochlan’s stomach turns, twists with nerves. Every part of him is screaming to move, to run, but he’s frozen. His gaze locks on Brandon’s thumb, hovering just above the screen. Brandon fingers hover for a moment, glances up at Lochlan to make sure his eyes are on him, watching what he’s about to do. Flashes a satisfied grin once his gaze meets Lochlan’s terrified one, taps a play button.

A voice fills the silence between them from this video on Brandon’s phone, his voice . His sobs and whimpers fill the air and Lochlan feels the world start the spin around him. Even if Brandon isn’t showing him the screen Lochlan already knows what’s being played. He looks at Brandon, a quiet plea in his eyes, every atom in him trying to telepathically begging him not to show him what’s on that screen. He can’t handle that, can’t bear to see it, to relive that experience again.

He thinks Bradon understands what he’s asking, but he knows him, knows he doesn’t care. He’s never cared about Lochlan, about his well being, and Lochlan suddenly hates himself very very much for ever letting himself get this deep with this man. And, just like Lochlan knew he would, he slowly holds up the phone to Lochlan’s face, smiling the whole time.

Lochlan feels himself slipping out of this reality. He can’t process what he’s seeing, and he prays to God he won’t be able to remember the video in the future, that it’ll go on the back burner with his other repressed traumas and memories. He can’t get a good look at the video anyways, his vision has gone blurry, everything around him goes muted.

And then he hears something that snaps him right back, fucking ground him with terror.

“Saxon,” his voice on the video cries out. It happens once, then it happens again. Over and over and over again.

“Yeah,” Brandon drawls out, more than satisfied, “I might be a piece of shit, but you’re sick Lochlan, like really, really sick.”

“You want him don’t you?” Brandon continues, stepping closer, ignoring Lochlan’s sobs, “I saw you on Thanksgiving, how you were looking at him, just like how you always look at me.”

Lochlan can barely get out words, gasping between his tears, “Brandon, please, don’t.”

“Don’t what? You’re the one that wants to fuck your brother. And even if I wasn’t at Thanksgiving watching you try to eye fuck him across the table like the sick fuck you are, I’d still have this video to prove it. I’m just trying to do some public good, letting everyone know what kind of creep you are.”

For the first time in his life, Lochlan sees red. He feels out of control, out of his body. He feels his fist connect with Brandon’s face, right where Saxon had punched him many months ago. He gasps, shocked by his own actions.

“Jesus,” Brandon steps back, hand going to his nose where Lochlan had striked. He looked surprised, maybe even a little scared, and Lochlan would have been so fucking proud of himself if he wasn’t so terrified.

“I think your brother of all people should be the first to know,” Brandon sneers, right before Lochlan hears the whoosh sound of a sent text. He turns around and walks away from Lochlan sneering, but Lochlan can see a little look of fear in his eyes every time he casts his head back, nervously making sure Lochlan wasn’t following him.

Lochlan stays frozen in place, shocked, even though every fiber of his being is screaming at him to run. He can’t yet though, waits until Brandon is completely out of view then wills himself to sprint, run as fast as he can to Saxon’s apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He bangs so loud and hard on the door, part of him worries Saxon’s neighbors might file a noise complaint, but mostly he’s too scared to think straight. He knows Saxon’s working from home today, knows he knows about what happened between Brandon and him, but he still wants to get to Saxon before he watches that video. The thought of Saxon seeing him like that makes him want to die.

“Hey,” Saxon swings the door open. 

He’s dressed in his business clothes; a nice blue button up, a pair of dark trousers, and his glasses perched delicately on his nose. He looks amazing, like he’s the most handsome, familiar, and safe person Lochlan has ever known (he is). It makes Lochlan fold completely. 

He pushes his way into Saxon’s apartment, wrapping his arms around Saxon’s waist, and presses his face into Saxon’s shirt. Lets himself break down again.

“Hey, hey,” Saxon repeats softly, hands running down Lochlan’s back in an attempt to soothe, “don’t worry I already took care of it.”

Lochlan cries harder. 

“No,” he chokes out, “you weren’t supposed to see me like that.”

“I know baby, I know,” Saxon whispers, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s becoming  all too familiar, the two of them doing this. Lochlan crying in Saxon’s arms, Saxon apologizing for something that isn’t his fault.

He’s going to get sick of doing this with me, Lochlan thinks miserably, he’s going to get sick of me eventually. I’m too much, have too much fucking baggage. Too fucking neurotic, too sensitive, too much of everything.

Maybe he says some of that aloud, or maybe Saxon can just tell what’s going on inside his head. They’ve always been like that, knowing each other better than anyone else. 

“No, c’mon,” Saxon comforts, one hand rubbing a circle on Lochlan’s back, another in his hair, “it’s over now, okay? He can’t hurt you anymore, I got you.”

Once Lochlan’s calmed down slightly, they end up on Saxon’s bed. He orders them pizza and pours them both a glass of wine— something sweet and fizzy that tastes more like peach soda than alcohol. It’s light and easy, the kind of wine that feels perfect for this—barefoot on a soft comforter, the TV murmuring in the background, and Saxon’s thigh pressed warm and solid below his head.

“I ruined our date,” he whispers softly, sadly, his eyes fluttering closed as he feels another tear run down his face.

“Nah, what are you talking about? This is perfect,” Saxon smiles tenderly, reaching down and taking Lochlan’s face in one of his hands.

 His fingers tilt Loclan’s jaw upwards, his thumb swiping Lochlan’s tear-streaked face. A shy smile works its way onto Lochlan’s face, he purrs and lets himself lean into Saxon’s hand. He feels calm, he feels loved in a way he never thought he could be. He didn’t ever think something like this would be possible for him, especially not from the person he’s always wanted the most.

Lochlan opens eyes back up, taking all of Saxon in. Saxon’s looking down at him with those clear blue eyes, a look on his face that Lochlan hasn’t seen since they were both kids. The same look Saxon would get whenever Lochlan had fallen off his bike and scraped his knees, when he got his first splinter from playing on their old playset, or the first day of kindergarten when he was crying and begging Saxon not to leave him. It’s a gentle look, a loving one, but almost sad. Yearning. It brings Lochlan back to the dream he’d get of them in the Grand Canyon. Of Saxon begging for something he can’t put into words, of something he can’t ever have.

He can have it , Lochlan thinks, he could have always had it, he was just always too scared. 

And even now, now that they’ve put it into words, he knows Saxon’s still too scared. 

That’s alright, I don’t mind. I’ve never minded it, being the one to give him what he needs. It’s what he raised me to do.

Lochlan stretches upwards and bridges the gap between them.

Chapter Text

Saxon wanted to take back the rules he had made for their relationship almost immediately.

And especially now, looking down at his baby, his head resting on Saxon’s tanned thighs, staring up at him with those big brown, teary eyes. His brain immediately flashes with the memory from a few hours ago, of how Lochlan had looked in that video. Then immediately tries very hard not to think of that. That video, seeing how Lochlan had been hurt like that, had made his stomach churn so hard and his blood run hot and cold at the same time. The idea of anyone doing that, touching him like that was unbearable. 

“It’s either going to be you, or some fucking frat boy rip off,” he had sighed to Saxon the other day on the phone.

Though he had been in a state of overwhelming fear and mania at the time, looking back now, the line makes him snort. He had described his type perfectly; Saxon, Brandon, and his Grindr hookups Saxon had once snuck a look at years ago while Lochlan had left his phone at the table to use the bathroom at a family dinner. He felt so immensely stupid for not putting together that Lochlan had been just looking for him in other men, each one had just been a carbon copy of the next.

And I was the first, I was the blueprint.

“They’ve all been replacements,” Lochlan had stated plainly, as if it were the simplest thing,“for you”.

It’s the last thing his ego needs but he couldn’t stop thinking about it ever since Lochlan had said those words over the phone. The thought of that makes him itchy and hot, riles him up with arousal and awe. And jealousy, possessiveness. Truth to be told, Lochlan didn’t have the best taste in men. Brandon had treated Lochlan like hell, and he had a feeling his other college hookups had also been careless douchebags. Because that’s what Saxon had been for most of his life, especially with his previous sexual partners.

With Lochlan, however, it was going to be different. He might have said all that mature, righteous shit on the phone, all that stuff about Lochlan being able to date and see other people, being able to drop Saxon or rearrange their relationship at his own will, but the truth was Saxon was going to do everything in his power to prevent that from ever happening. He was going to be the best Lochlan had ever had; take care of him, spoil him, and fuck him so good he’d never, ever even think of anyone besides Saxon. That was his baby and no one else’s.

Staring at Lochlan now, his heart aches. He is the most beautiful thing Saxon has ever seen in his life and he can’t believe he ever let anyone else have access to this. The voice is crying out in his head again, screaming at him to kiss him, but he tries to ignore it. He’s not sure if it’s the right time, with Lochlan still shaken up and teary-eyed from everything that had gone down between him and Brandon. I can wait a few days longer.

It’s nothing , he tells himself, I’ve been waiting for almost twenty years, what’s a few days more?

Still, waiting any longer seems tortuous. This was their first time seeing each other since they had agreed to cross that boundary. And Saxon had been so pent up, so dizzy with desire and lust and need since that phone call. And here he was, the source of all those feelings, laying his thighs with the most needy and nubile look on his face.

And suddenly it’s as if Lochlan can read his mind.

Beautiful, saintly, precious, perfect Lochlan stretches up, out of Saxon’s lap and presses his mouth against Saxon’s. 

Saxon gasps into Lochlan’s mouth. It’s slow, soft, and unbearably hesitant. Almost as if Lochlan’s scared that Saxon will shove him off, push him away, and kick him out of his apartment. Saxon cups his hands around his face like Lochlan had done to him a little over four years ago in Thailand, but a little bit more slow, gentle. This is okay, this is good, his fingers curl around Lochlan’s cheeks, we can do this as much as you want, I’m not going anywhere.

Lochlan’s pace picks up after Saxon holds his face in his hands, reaffirming through pleased murmurs. He’s hungry, starving, probably just as badly as Saxon has been, but he’s always been worse at hiding it. And he’s not even trying now, his tongue prodding against Saxon’s lips, begging for it as Saxon opens up for him, letting Lochlan explore his mouth. The sensation, the feeling, of Lochlan’s tongue inside of his mouth makes him moan. It’s a wet and curious thing, brushing up against his teeth, gums, and the roof of his mouth. Caressing Saxon’s own tongue. It’s like he needs to taste, feel, and experience every part of Saxon. And Saxon, who’s always secretly enjoyed Lochlan’s worship (all of it), opens wider for him. Lochlan moans in response, and pushes himself further into Saxon’s mouth. His hands travel down from Lochlan’s face to his waist, grasping at his hips and dragging his little brother towards him. Lochlan, not needing any further instructions, swings his legs around Saxon’s torso, planting himself firmly in Saxon’s lap as he continues to ingest Saxon.

Jesus Christ, Saxon thinks, he’s going to eat me alive.

The thought, almost a hysterical one, shoots a shiver down his body. He pulls away, gasping for breath.

A look flashes in his eyes, fear and apprehension, scared that Saxon was pulling away out of him doing something wrong. 

“Needed air,” Saxon explains, smiling through pants.

“Oh okay, because I wasn’t s-”

“Fuck, come here,” Saxon says, not even completely sure what he means because Lochlan is here, right in his lap.

He lifts up Lochlan’s shirt, wraps his arms around his bare body, pulling him as close as he physically can, their bodies pressed up against each other as his mouth find Lochlan’s neck. He thinks about the day he had picked Lochlan up for the first day of winter break, how his neck had been covered in what had seemed like hundreds of little hickeys, all various shades of bruised purples and reds. The rage and desire that had pooled in his stomach as he had yanked down Lochlan’s hoodie to reveal them. 

Me, that should’ve been my doing, he thinks as his teeth and tongue work against Lochlan’s delicate flesh.

At the time, Lochlan, flustered and embarrassed, had shoved him away and pulled his hoodie up to cover the hickeys, which had only intensified the heat in his body. 

Not anymore, can’t hide that fucking shit from me anymore, Saxon thinks wildly, as Lochlan arches his neck back, moaning and on full display as Saxon gnaws and sucks along his jawline, the hollow of his throat, and right above the collarbone. 

Little pleased whimpers and gasps escape from Lochlan’s mouth, his Adam’s apple and throat muscles moving against Saxon’s mouth as his leaves fresh, wet, markings all over his neck.

“Mine mine mine mine mine,” he whispers against Lochlan’s skin.

“Yeah, fuck, Sax,” Lochlan whines breathlessly, “it’s always been.”

He’s going to do this all the time, as much as he can, he decides. The thought of Lochlan walking around campus on graduation day, through the streets of Durham, and Europe covered in Saxon’s markings makes him growl and grind against Lochlan. He needs there to be physical evidence of his ownership, that Lochlan is his and nobody else’s. It doesn’t even matter if no one will ever know it’s Saxon’s doing. As long as they know that Lochlan already belongs to someone, someone who he lets do this to him, lets him do anything he wants to him.

Lochlan begins to move against Saxon’s movements, grinding against him as well, trying to match his rhythm. Sweatpants against Saxon’s work trousers. Saxon chuckles, and moves his hands back to Lochlan’s waist, holding him down, keeping him in place he continues to work against him with his hips and his mouth. He’s going to have to sit there and take it.

“Did I tell you that you were allowed to do that?” he whispers into Lochlan’s ear, smirking nefariously.

“No, bu-”

“What? I thought you were all about pleasing?,” he laughs.

“I am, but God, please, Sax, please,” Lochlan whimpers.

“Please what? Be a good boy, use your words,” he instructs, trembling with satisfaction, knowing his Lochlan right where he wants him.

“Please fuck me Sax, oh my fucking God,” he begs.

“No,” Saxon states, gentle but stern, pulling away from Lochlan’s neck so he can see Lochlan’s reaction.

And Lochlan loses it, actually breaks down, a convulsive sob escaping from throat, his body shaking in frustration and desperate want. He’s choking out pleas and prayers, and every bone in Saxon’s body wants to give in but he can’t, not yet.

“We’re going to eventually, baby,” he whispers, pressing his mouth against Lochlan’s hairline, his nose nudging his curls as he continues to rock his hips into Lochlan, through his cries, “but we’re gonna wait, make it really special when it happens.”

“When, how long?” Lochlan demands and Saxon laughs.

“Mmmm, I was thinking about graduation night,” Saxon whispers, going back to Lochlan’s neck. A little over a week from now. An eternity.

Lochlan screams in exasperation and Saxon can feel him trying to move his hips against his again in attempts to create some friction. He clucks his tongue disapprovingly and holds him down harder, eliciting another sob out of Lochlan.

“You’re going to appreciate me for this,” he promises, “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good baby. I just need you to wait a little bit longer, okay? Do you think you could do that, for me?”

Lochlan doesn’t respond so he pulls away from him, leans down a little, glancing up. Lochlan’s looking down at him with actual contempt, resentment, and rage. Saxon wants to take him seriously, he really does, but all he can see is his bratty little brother staring down at him. He feels his mouth curve into a grin.

“Like what? I’m some fucking prom date you’re deflowering?” he spits.

“Yeah, exactly, just like you wanted,” Saxon purrs, “I’m going to be your first, baby.”

Lochlan’s face goes slack, his eyes widen, pupils blown. Saxon tries something, experimentally rolls his hips in a new rhythm, slower and harder against him. Lochlan’s mouth opens wide, uncontrolled.

“Ahhh,” he moans softly, beautifully,  throwing his head back, his body shaking in pleasure as Saxon keeps moving.

He waits until Lochlan’s body stops trembling to still his movements.

“Did you come from that?” he whispers gently into his ear.

Lochlan nods, eyes darting away from Saxon’s. 

His face is flustered, sheepish and humiliated from coming in his sweatpants from his brother merely dry humping against him. Saxon feels his own cock twitch in his pants, delighted from this. The fact he can do this, has his brother so wrapped up around his finger, so desperate and needy for him.

“Hey, no, c’mon, don’t be embarrassed,” Saxon laughs, taking Lochlan’s face into his hands and forcing him to look at him, “you did so good for me, I’m so proud of you.”

Lochlan's face is furrowed with annoyance but his body shivers against Saxon from the praise. 

“I’m gonna get you back,” he whispers fiercely, “just you fucking wait.”

Saxon laughs and pushes him off, heading towards the shower to take care of himself.

“Yeah, okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lochlan does get him back, less than twenty four hours later.

He’s in the kitchen cooking breakfast for them, eggs sizzling in a pan while Lochlan snores softly, curled up in his bed. He had looked so angelic this morning, the sunlight hitting his curls and the shadows from the tree branches outside making little shapes on his bare back. Saxon smiles, reminiscing about their first night together. He made Lochlan orgasm with just a few movements and words, let him into the bathroom and cleaned him off in the shower after he had gotten himself off, and then kissed him softly in bed until they had both fallen asleep.

He’s so lost in it, in such complete bliss that he doesn’t hear Lochlan padding into the kitchen. He doesn’t even realize he’s there until Lochlan wraps his arms around Saxon and pressing his tongue against Saxon’s neck. It’s nothing like the night before, no teeth or sucking, just Lochlan tracing his tongue up and down Saxon, breath hot and sensual against his skin.

“Fuck,” Saxon gasps out, as Lochlan’s hands move downwards, slipping below his waist band.

“About this waiting,” Lochlan whispers, “that’s just to go all the way, right? I can still get you off, can’t I?”

Saxon moans, words failing as Lochlan wraps a hand around Saxon’s cock, stroking him slowly and measured. Saxon involuntarily thrusts into Lochlan’s hand and Lochlan laughs.

“Yeah that’s what I thought. I remember how much you liked it when I did this back in Thailand. Let me do it again for you.”

A whimper escapes Saxon’s throat as Lochlan moves his hand against Saxon’s jerks. 

“Or…” Lochlan trails off dangerously, making the hair on Saxon’s neck prickle, “I could go down on you, would you like that, Sax? Just like we talked about in Costa Rica.”

The idea of that, of his brother on his knees, taking him into his mouth makes him whimper pathetically. He want it, needs it so fucking bad.

“Please,” he chokes out, suddenly feeling completely out of control, watching Lochlan sink to the kitchen tile floor.

He watches, feeling like he’s floating, as Lochlan pulls down his boxers with a smirk, Saxon’s cock springing out impatiently. Lochlan spits into his hand, an obscene noise that makes Saxon shiver with anticipation. Lochlan grins up proudly at Saxon, his hand pumping up and down on his cock as he watches Saxon shake and moan. Lochlans eyes are wide, dark and tempting as his lower mouth passes Saxon’s cock, taking his balls into his mouth. His hands continue to work, both of them now stroking Saxon up and down as sucks on Saxon, occasionally letting his balls go with a salacious pop. 

“Slut,” Saxon cries, “Both hands-how do you know-what….how do you know how to do this? Who taught you?”

“You,” Lochlan grins, two hands hard at work, “I remember when I was fourteen you came home from Christmas and told me about that girl at your internship, Samantha Harris, ands how she gave you the best blowjob of your life.”

Saxon groans body jerking at the memory.

“I remembered every word,” he whispers, moving his mouth back down to Saxon cock, “got myself off imagining myself doing that to you every night that year.”

“God, you’re going to do that to me? Take all of me in your dirty fucking mouth?”

“Mmhhmmm.”

“All of me, right baby? Swallow me too, every drop?”

“Yeah,” Lochlan smiles, a spark in his eyes as he moves his tongue up and down Saxon’s shaft, licking slowly, “you taught me that too, remember? Taught me to be a good boy, drink all your little protein shakes.”

Saxon lets out an indescribable sound, delirious and euphoric as Lochlan takes his cock into his mouth. He bobs up and down, hard and fast on Saxon’s cock, but never takes so much of Saxon so that he gags. One hand is wrapped around Saxon’s base, his pumps matching the rhythm of his mouth, the other on his balls, fondling them. 

He remembers that I liked how she paid attention to my tip, he realizes in disbelief as he feels Lochlan’s tongue lap against his slit and the head. Drool pour from his lips as he keeps his big brown eyes, wide and idolizing, focused up on Saxon. 

Saxon whimpers, feeling pathetic, he’s so close already. This is going to be the shortest blowjob of my life , he thinks, humiliated.

Lochlan pulls back and Saxon almost sighs with relief, thinking he’s going to get a break, that Lochlan is coming up for air.

And Lochlan is panting but he is also unrelenting, tilting his head back.

“Spit in my mouth,” he says, opening wide, sticking his tongue out.

Saxon does instantly, without a second thought, almost as if Lochlan has him under some kind of trance. It makes him shudder, watching Lochlan take it, his eyes gleaming and the corners of his mouth curved, almost smiling. Fuck that was hot, how did he even know I would like that? He definitely doesn’t remember telling Lochlan that that was something that he liked.

He crouches down to Lochlan’s level because he fucking needs this, needs to do it again, but this time up close. He takes Lochlan’s jaw into his head, fingers firm as he brings Lochlan’s mouth, stretched open and patient, to his, only millimeters away. He spits again, coating his tongue and the back of his throat. Lochlan moans in bliss, eyes closing as he melts into Saxon’s hands like butter. 

Saxon presses his tongue against Lochlan’s, tasting their mixed saliva, and Lochlan lets him. More than lets, he fucking pushes back, brushing against Saxon’s tongue, dancing, like, here have it, have all me, get a good fucking taste.

Saxon pulls away eventually, wrapping one hand in Lochlan’s curls, guiding his mouth back onto his cock. He rocks his hips, fucking into Lochlan’s mouth slowly, steady. It’s much more gentle than how Lochlan had been going earlier but he needs it this way, at this pace. Any faster at this point and he’ll come and he’s not letting Lochlan have the power of getting that out of him so fast.

The eggs burn in the pan, forgotten, the smell of burnt food mixing with the heady scent of lust in the air. Saxon doesn't care, his focus is solely on his brother, watching Lochlan's eyes water and his cheeks hollow with the effort of taking him all in. He moans around Saxon's cock, the vibration sending shivers down his spine. Saxon's grip tightens in his hair harder, a silent plea for more, for Lochlan to never stop. And Lochlan, ever eager to please, swallows around him, taking him deeper still, his eyes never leaving Saxon's.

Saxon's breath hitches, his eyes widening as he feels the tension in his balls coil tight. He tries to hold off, to prolong this exquisite torment, but Lochlan is relentless. He sucks harder, his hand moving in perfect tandem with his mouth, squeezing and stroking until Saxon can't take it anymore. With a cry that echoes through the apartment, he comes, spilling into Lochlan's eager mouth, watching as his brother's throat works, swallowing every drop.

And as Saxon's orgasm subsides, leaving him panting and weak, Lochlan pulls back, a smug smile on his face. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes shining with triumph. 

"That’s my baby," Saxon murmurs breathlessly, the words slipping out unbidden. 

Lochlan's grin widens.

Chapter Text

“Lochlan Elliot Ratcliff, Magna Cum Laude”

It all happens so fast, Lochlan swears if he had blinked he would have missed it. Walking across the stage, shaking the Dean’s hand, and his own diploma being placed gently in his shaky, sweaty palms. 

Duke University

College of Civil and Environmental Engineering

has conferred upon

Lochlan Elliot Ratliff

the degree of 

 Bachelor of Science

Environmental Engineering 

He looks out to the crowd of hundreds and thousands of parents, siblings, and friends watching from the crowd. He can see a blue polo shirt way back in the crowd and he swears it’s Saxon. He looks down at his diploma. The letters are huge, thick, and sprawling. The font looks like it could be from medieval times, feathered-pen dipped into ink and written out next to a dimming oil lamp. Lochlan can feel himself choking up, tears stinging in his eyes. His name is stretched across the diploma, the largest words on the paper. Like it’s something important, memorable. 

For the first time in his life he thinks it might be. He looks back up to the crowd and the blue polo is waving and whooping at him. Lochlan feels his smile stretch out so wide he has to close his eyes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lochlan clutches the keycard the receptionist had given him after he had checked into the hotel. It had felt weird, him and Saxon booking a hotel room for a city that they were both currently living in.

“Sax, really, you don’t need to do this,” Lochlan muttered, blushing and hiding his face in his pillow the morning Saxon had suggested it.

“What? You’re the one who told me that you wanted it to be all prom-night vibes and shit,” Saxon had smirked from his side of the bed, scrolling through various hotel options online.

“I did not say that Saxon, oh my God!”

Saxon laughs and sets his laptop down on the nightstand next to him, like he’s already anticipating the pillow Lochlan’s about to pummel him with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whatever. Lochlan wouldn’t even know what prom-night vibes were, he had never gone. The high school social scene really had never been his cup of tea, and he much preferred just staying home and watching his YouTube videos anyways.

You didn’t feel that way when you were eight and had to watch Saxon take Jessica Park to prom, a voice sneers in his head and he shakes his head as he steps into the hotel. His mind flashes back to all the times he cried over Saxon leaving him behind growing up. His first day of kindergarten, dropping him off at his first sleepover, Saxon’s prom night, and so many other occasions. But prom night had been particularly hard since he was just starting to be old enough to start to understand the depth of his feelings for Saxon. Of course, he couldn’t really put into words what he was feeling at the age of eight, but he had started to understand what he was feeling wasn’t appropriate, wasn’t normal. How the guilt and shame had festered in between his tears that night despite being unable to explain why. None of it mattered now, but for a brief moment he wished he could go back almost fifteen years ago and tell his child self that it would be okay.  Eventually.

 The elevator dings softly, and Lochlan feels his breath hitch as the doors glide open—not into a hallway, but directly into the suite itself. Cool, polished tile floors stretch out before him, softened by the glow of the soft lighting and the warmness of the night lights shining in through floor-to-ceiling windows. For a moment, all he can hear is the hum of his own heartbeat as he steps forward, the elevator doors sliding shut behind him with a hush. He feels like he’s walked into another world—sleek, hushed, and floating high above everything in the city that’s ever hurt him.

And then he hears it—footsteps padding across the suite’s smooth floors, steady and sure. Saxon appears from around the corner, barefoot and dressed in a different outfit from graduation. He has a white button-down on, sleeves rolled to his forearms like he’s been nervously fidgeting while waiting. A tie is loose around his neck like he couldn’t quite decide whether to keep it on or not. It hangs slightly askew, fingers clearly having tugged at the knot more than once. Hair is slightly messy, Lochlan can tell he’s ran his hands through it nervously a few times. There’s something in his smile, a soft kind of awe, like Lochlan is somehow more beautiful here than he was this morning before graduation.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly but excitedly.

Before Lochlan can reply Saxon is placing his hand around his waist, picking him up, and twirling him around. It’s like their last day in Thailand, except now Saxon is pressing deep, full kisses into his mouth as he sets him down against the wall. Lochlan practically feels like he’s buzzing with excitement, vibrating and giggling against Saxon’s lips.

“My little superstar,” Saxon says breathing into him and a chill runs down Lochlan’s back, “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Lochlan’s hands find the back of Saxon’s neck, grabbing him tight and returning the kisses with desperate energy. He’s been itching to see Saxon all day, had begged Saxon to let him come over sooner, but Saxon had insisted that Lochlan go celebrate with his college friends first. 

“Go have fun, Lochy, Jesus,” Saxon had snorted the day before in between Lochlan’s protests, “we can have sex for the rest of our lives, you only get one graduation night.”

The rest of our lives, Lochlan thinks as Saxon takes the collar of his shirt, pulling Lochlan to bed, mouth still latched onto his as he did so. 

There’s a chilled bottle of Moët & Chandon nestled in the silver ice bucket that Saxon pulls out with a flourish. The clink fills the room, contrasting with the soft hum of the air conditioner and the distant sound of the city outside. Muted whispers in comparison to the deafening anticipation that filled the room. Saxon’s eyes flick up to Lochlan’s, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Like the whole night is a slow, deliberate act of foreplay between the two of them.

Saxon pops the cork with ease, a smug smile playing on his lips as the champagne bubbles over, soaking the tiled floorboards. He fills their flutes with the sparkling liquid, the bubbles racing to the surface in a frenzied dance. The golden color shimmering under the soft glow of the hotel room’s lights.

They clinked their glasses together, the sound echoing through the room. "To the rest of your life," Saxon toasted, his eyes gleaming with an affectionate mischief.

Lochlan giggles, downing his flute a little too fast. Saxon’s eyes glow with thirst, heat prickling on his skin as he watches the way his brother’s gaze focuses on his throat muscles moving up and down with each swallow of the drink.

They both finish another flute or two, Lochlan’s body is beginning to feel warm and melting against the soft comforter. He’s not drunk yet, but he feels warm and relaxed, a little bit braver too.

“Whatcha you thinking about?”

Saxon practically gleams, “That you should probably be allowed to have some more. It’s your big day, after all.”

Lochlan eagerly grabs at the bottle, but Saxon darts out of his way playfully with laughter and a little tsk . The next thing Lochlan knows, Saxon is standing on the other side of the bed, champagne bottle still in hand.

“Come here Lochy,” he demands, smiling softly, “but don’t get off the bed.”

Lochlan crawls over to Saxon’s side, sitting down obediently facing Saxon, an impish grin stretching across his face as he does. Saxon lowers the bottle’s neck down to Lochlan mouth and he takes it in before he can even think about it, the bubbling liquid pouring down his throat.

“That’s it, good baby, drink it up,” Saxon whispers breathily, “God you look so hot like this.”

Lochlan shudders at Saxon’s praise, feeling himself growing hard in his pants. He feels his brother’s hand caress his face; his thumb dragging along his jawline then shuffling downwards. He gently wraps his hand around Lochlan’s throat as he continues to lap at the liquid. Fingers brushing over all the little spots he’s left hickies this week, admiring his work. He’s not squeezing or choking him really, his hand is just placed on Lochlan like he just wants to feel what Lochlan’s feeling in the moment. The liquid going down, Lochlan taking it all in, maintaining eye contact with Saxon the whole time.   

Before he can finish, Saxon takes away the bottle, slowly withdrawing it from his mouth. Lochlan tries to savor every drop, and as it leaves his mouth a little bit spills from his lips onto the bed sheets. He whimpers, dissatisfied and almost feeling empty. Saxon’s face contorts, eyes going dark and pupils blown with an intense look of arousal. Lochlan smirks knowingly.

“You want me to do that to you next?”

“Please,” Saxon chokes out.

Saxon removes his shirt and pants in record timing, sliding into bed with little finesse. Lochlan straddles him, momentarily relishing the rare feeling of being on top for once before he’s sliding down Saxon, planting little kisses as he does so. 

Slowly, he peels off Saxon’s boxers, enjoying the pained look on Saxon’s face as he does so. He knows his brother wants it, needs it now. So all the more reason to make him wait. His dick springs up, impatient, but Lochlan draws his attention to Saxon’s thighs, licking a nibbling all along them. Saxon groans, his leg muscles trembling, straining as Lochlan runs his tongue along them. He allows himself to test sinking his teeth into his brother’s soft flesh, gnawing and lapping away. Saxon’s groans turn to whimpers, his body twitching with need as one of Lochlan’s hand drifts lower. He reaches into his boxers, stroking himself to the sound of Saxon’s whimpers turning into pleas for Lochlan.

Eventually, Saxon can’t take it anymore. He reaches downwards, taking a handful of Lochlan’s curls and guides him to his cock, hard and leaking with precum. 

“Asshole,” Lochlan chuckles.

“Fucking tease,” Saxon hisses.

Lochlan tilts his head to look up at Saxon, biting down on his lower lip, grinning as he does so. He wants Saxon to remember this, the look on his face, playful and happy. Saxon’s own face is a sight to behold. He is completely undone, face red and splotchy, hair sticking up at all ends, eyes watery and lips glossy and swollen. He is the most perfect thing Lochlan has ever seen in his life. It’s completely intimating, but he tells himself to push past it. And so, one hand on his balls, one hand wrapped around his base, he wraps his wet lips around Saxon’s tip. Keeping his eyes focused on Saxon’s the whole time, big and pitiful and pleading. The first time he had given Saxon head, a little over a week ago, it had been calculating and skilled. He had an agenda. Now there was none, just pure passion and energy guiding him. So he went down on Saxon accordingly. 

The world outside the hotel suite faded away, leaving only the two of them in a bubble of passion. Lochlan's eyes water as he takes Saxon deeper, his jaw stretching to accommodate his brother's cock. He could feel Saxon's hand tightening in his hair, the gentle pressure urging him on as he worked his tongue and lips around his throbbing cock. The noises Saxon made were the sweetest sounds he had ever heard, whimpering and begging that spurred him on, pushing past his own limits. One hand wrapped around the base became none as Lochlan took all of Saxon in, making obscene gagging sounds as he did. He feels Saxon’s grip on his curls tighten even more so, moaning erotically.

“Oh my God,” he chokes out, “oh my fucking God baby.”

Saxon continues to grip Lochlan's hair, guiding him to a rhythm that matches his hips, bucking up to fuck into brother's mouth. Lochlan moans around his cock, the vibrations causing Saxon's body to shake and shiver from under him. He was close, so close, Lochlan could feel it in the way Saxon’s body was twitching with every singular stroke of his tongue. 

“Okay, okay,” Saxon gasps, “my turn.”

Lochlan pulls off Saxon with a pleased grin, flipping off of him and onto the other side of the bed. He arches his back, wiggles his ass playfully in the air in attempts to make Saxon laugh. It does; a warm, surprised, but familiar chortle erupting from being him. Lochlan practically glows with pride, burying his delighted smile in the sheets.

“Someone’s excited,” Saxon chuckles.

“Mmm-hmmm.”

“You want me to eat you out?,” Saxon questions, slowly pulling off his pants and boxers, pressing a kiss on the small of his back as he does so. Lochlan shivers at the sensation of his lips against his skin, a rush of excitement immediately going to his head.

“Ummm, I mean I’m fine with whatever,” he measly chokes out after he’s able to compose himself, “You said it was my turn and I figured you’d rather eat me out than give me head, so uh yeah…”

He blushes a little at the lameiness of his response. He’s not used to this, to being asked what he wants during sex. Or ever.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Saxon asks, slipping a finger between Lochlan’s cheeks experimentally. No pressure or prodding, just brushing against his hole curiously. He gasps in surprise and swallows nervously.

“Well, uh, I know you wanna take care of me and stuff, Sax. But, like, I know you,” Lochlan’s face is burning up, feels like he’s flailing about. 

Everyone always says communication is key for a good sex life but he’s never done this, this talking stuff. He doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants or how to explain to the other person that he knows what they want even when he’s not even sure what he himself wants.

“I know you want it to be good for me, make me feel good,” he continues, “but this is your first time with me, and like, a guy in general so you’re kinda freaking the fuck out, right? I know you like being in control and you probably feel like you're out of your realm right now. I thought anything involving my dick might, like, freak you out even more but you might have experience eating ass, or I dunno…”

Saxon sucks in a breath from behind him, Lochlan braces, hoping he didn’t say the wrong thing.

“Is that what you want though?” Saxon finally whispers, a tilt in his voice that Lochlan doesn’t recognize. 

“Honestly? I’m just happy to be here with you Sax,” he risks shifting his face back to look at his brother, though his cheek is still pressed against the sheets, “This is all I’ve wanted my whole life, it doesn’t matter to me how it happens. Really.”

Saxon blinks. It looks like he’s about to cry.

“Just take care of me Sax,” Lochlan feels like he’s reaching out, trying to grasp onto something he can say that Saxon will understand, “you’ve always known how to do that.”

Saxon’s face scrunches up and Lochlan thinks he’s maybe started silently crying but can’t tell before Saxon ducks his face downwards, planting kisses along Lochlan’s spine.

“You’re too good to me, fuck,” he finally whispers as he trails down Lochlan’s back, “Jesus Christ.”

I love you, Lochlan’s insides are screaming at him to say but he holds back. He thinks whatever Saxon’s working through right now is probably good for him, so it’s best not to inflate his ego anymore. Or break him. And that response is going to do one or the other. 

“Close,” he settles on, smirking.

“Well,” Saxon mutters, “you’re definitely something biblical.”

Saxon’s hands grip Lochlan’s thighs, pushing them apart gently but firmly. He watches as Saxon leans in, his breath hot against his skin as he kisses the inside of each of his thighs.The first time Saxon’s tongue flicks over his hole, Lochlan’s body jolts in surprise. He’s thought about Saxon doing this, fantasized about it, but the reality was nothing like he could have ever imagined. 

Saxon takes his time, exploring Lochlan with a gentle curiosity. His tongue probes and dances around the tight hole, teasing him until Lochlan is begging for more. When Saxon finally pushes inside, Lochlan feels himself melt into the bed. It was like nothing he’s ever felt before—warm and wet, complete and utter pleasure. He grabs the sheets and bites into a pillow, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. Saxon begins to move his tongue in circles. A slow, tortuous build that makes Lochlan’s body tense and shake.

“Oh, Saxon, oh fuck,” Lochlan whines as he comes up for air, his voice high and needy. 

Usually at this point during sex he’d be nervous. Brandon and the other men he had been with usually rushed Lochlan’s foreplay, eager to get to the main act. Acts that were meant to be for his own pleasure were usually taken from him the exact second he'd started to enjoy them. But with Saxon, it was different. It felt right. He could feel his brother’s moans against his skin, and that only spurred him on more. Saxon knew exactly what he was doing, and he was doing it for Lochlan. He was getting off on taking care of him. He felt cherished, desired, and utterly consumed by the sensation. Each stroke of his tongue brought him closer to the edge, and Lochlan found himself arching his back, pushing into the feeling, more and more.

Saxon’s hands move to Lochlan’s cock, stroking it in time with his tongue. Lochlan’s eyes rolled back in his head as he let out a strangled cry, half from surprise and half from pleasure. It was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. The room was a haze of pleasure, the only thing anchoring him to reality was the feel of Saxon’s hands and tongue on his body. And as Saxon took him in deeper, Lochlan felt his orgasm build, a pressure that was both terrifying and exhilarating. 

The pressure grows, coiling in his stomach.

“Saxon, please,” he begs, “I’m so fucking close.”

Saxon’s tongue slips out and he almost cries from the lost. He suddenly feels very empty.

“I know, I know,” he hears Saxon’s voice from above him, comforting, “you can come for me baby, it’s okay.”

“I’m not…but we haven’t…” 

The room’s spinning around him, it feels like it’s taking everything in his power not to give in and God he fucking wants to. Even without the presence of Saxon’s tongue he feels like he’s just seconds away from it. His brother’s hand and words are enough to send him over the edge.

“I booked the hotel for the whole night. We can go again and again and again and again and…”

He comes hard, his body seizing as Saxon’s name leaves his mouth in a sharp cry. His chest is heaving, his legs trembling as he tries to come down from the high. Saxon grabs his hips and flips him over, his back landing against the mattress with a soft thud, arms sprawling out as he looks up at his brother.

“You okay?” Saxon asks with such genuine concern it makes something in Lochlan’s chest tighten.

He nods slowly and smiles a little bit, “Yeah, Sax. That was really, really good.”

A strangled sound erupts from somewhere deep in Saxon’s throat as he crawls on top of Lochlan. They roll around in the bed, Saxon’s hands traveling back and forth as they do so. From holding Lochlan’s face in his palms, to wrapping himself around his waist, kissing his cheeks, neck, and nose the whole time he does so. Lochlan giggles, feeling a little hysterical. Even when he’s cuddling him, his brother can’t get enough of him.

“I know I said we can go again,” Saxon whispers, mouth pressed against Lochlan’s neck, “but we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Lochlan falters, shocked. His brother, who has only ever cared about quick, meaningless sex in which his only priority is getting himself off just told Lochlan that they don’t need to continue? All while his cock is pressed against Lochlan’s stomach, leaking and hard.

“Saxon Timothy Ratliff,” he whispers smiling, as he tilts his head back so his mouth is against his, “if you don’t fuck me tonight…”

“Okay, okay, I hear you,” Saxon laughs before kissing him slowly, “but let’s just do this for a little bit, okay? I think you’re too sensitive right now to take me without it hurting anyways.”

No one’s ever cared about him like this before, never cared about what he wants or whether or not it’s going to hurt him. It’s overwhelming. Lochlan hides his face in Saxon’s shoulder, scared he might start to sob.

Instead he focuses on one of Saxon’s hands, which has found its way in between Lochlan’s legs. He takes his cock, still slightly sensitive, and begins to stroke slowly. Lochlan shudders, gasping into Saxon’s collarbone.

“See? I’m okay Lochy, it’s just us, I’m not gonna freak out,” Saxon murmurs, reassuring.

 “Yeah, fuck,” Lochlan moans out, “mmhms feels good Saxy, keep going please.”

Saxon continues, obediently, as Lochlan twitches and moans, rutting against him. Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s just a few seconds, but Lochlan can feel himself getting hard again.

“I wanna ride you,” Lochlan confesses, then blinks and opens his eyes in surprise.

He’s only been on top a few times, and it’s never been his favorite position. It was as if he had been momentarily possessed, some higher power pulling on his strings.

If it was truly some higher power, Lochlan would have to thank them after this. The look on Saxon’s face was priceless, pupils wide and blown in shock, a red flush curled on his chest.

“Yeah baby? Are you sure?”

Nodding, with trembling hands, Lochlan reaches for the bottle of lube that they had procured earlier. He squeezes a generous amount onto his palm, the sound of it echoing through the room. The scent of mint filled the air as he coats his fingers, his gaze never leaving Saxon's intense stare. He felt the heat of his brother's eyes on him as he brought his hand back, sliding his fingers between his own cheeks to prepare himself. It was a strange, yet exhilarating sensation—his body readying for something he had only dreamed of.

Saxon wraps a hand around his cock as Lochlan straddles him. Taking a deep breath, Lochlan positions himself, his slicked-up hole hovering above Saxon's erection. He feels the tip of Saxon's cock press against him as his brother helps him to guide it in, the anticipation almost too much to bear. He takes another deep breath, focusing on Saxon's calming presence, and slowly lowers himself down. The pressure is intense, but the love, concern, and care in Saxon's eyes helped to ease any pain. Inch by inch, he took Saxon inside of him, his brother's eyes never leaving his. Lochlan bit his bottom lip, trying to keep the whimpers to a minimum, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Does it hurt?” Saxon asks nervously after Lochlan has bottomed out.

Lochlan shakes his head, all he feels right now is full. Like his whole body has been filled up by him, every fucking crevice and corner is his. He is made up of Saxon, every part of him; spiritually, emotionally, and now finally, physically. He brings his palm to his lower stomach, pressing down to really confirm this. Moans at the sensation of it, of being able to feel Saxon inside of him both internally and externally. 

“‘’S a lot,” he gasps as he begins to rock his hips, setting a gentle rhythm, “but it’s so good.”

“Yeah fuck,” Saxon chokes out, “it’s the same for me. God, you feel so fucking good Lochy.”

He could feel Saxon's heart beating from where his hands were placed on his chest. He looked down at him, a pair of blue eyes watering and face contorting in a look of shock staring up at him. Saxon's hands shake as he reaches for Lochlan’s hips, guiding him, trying to match the rhythm Lochlan has set. Lochlan leaned forward, placing his hands on Saxon's broad shoulders for support, his breath coming out in short pants as he began to pick up speed. 

Their movements grow more erratic, more primal. The bed creaks under their weight as Lochlan's rhythm picks up. Tears run down Saxon’s cheeks as he begins to babble nonsensical praise, his eyes never leaving Lochlan's as if trying to memorize every detail of this moment. Lochlan can feel his brother's muscles tensing, his grip on his hips tightening.The feeling of being claimed, of being desired by the one person he had idolized for so long, was intoxicating. 

With each movement, Lochlan grew bolder. His hips roll and buck, his body moving in what was almost a dance. Saxon's eyes grew darker, his breathing heavier, and Lochlan knew that he was bringing his brother closer. It was an intoxicating feeling, one that Lochlan hadn’t felt since Thailand. He feels powerful, and this time more powerful than he ever had felt before. He leans in, pressing his forehead against Saxon's, their eyes locked in a silent communication.

Their movements grew faster, more urgent, their bodies slapping together with a wet sound that seemed to echo through the room. Lochlan could feel Saxon's cock hitting his prostate, sending sparks of pleasure shooting all throughout his body with every thrust. He moans out his brother's name, his voice hoarse with desire.

The tension grew, building up in his stomach like a storm about to break. His eyes squeeze shut as he throws his head back, his entire body taut with the need for release. And when it does come, it’s like nothing he had ever experienced before. Lochlan screams Saxon's name, his body convulsing as he comes, waves of pleasure washing over him like a tidal wave. Saxon's own orgasm comes at almost the exact same time, his hips jerking up into Lochlan as he fills him with his come. 

They stay like that for a moment, panting and trembling, their bodies still joined, two as one. The reality of what they've done sets in, and Lochlan feels a warm feeling spread throughout him, a mix of love and excitement. He opens his eyes to find Saxon looking at him in awe.

“That was...” Lochlan starts, his voice breaking off as he tries to find the right words.

“Yeah,” Saxon whispers, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve never…it’s never…that was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, fuck.”

Lochlan leans down and they kiss, slow and deep. It feels sweet, gentle, almost innocent despite what they’ve just done to each other. They lay there, entwined in each other's arms, basking in the glow of their shared orgasm. The quiet whispers of the air conditioning outside the only sound in the room as they fall asleep.

Chapter Text

A few days after graduation, Saxon shows Lochlan the text messages between him and Brandon.

He knows he should’ve shown them sooner. Lochlan has been asking him if he can see the exchanges and Saxon knows he has a right to. Besides, legally they need to document all the interactions between Lochlan and Brandon as soon as possible if they want to move on with a civil case. The thing is, Lochlan doesn’t even know Saxon’s been talking to his lawyer. And it seems like so much to throw on him in the midst of everything.

So Saxon waits until they’ve settled down into a routine. Saxon makes them breakfast in the morning before he leaves for work. Lochlan stays home, plays Minecraft or Stardew Valley on his Nintendo Switch, and prepares for his job that starts in the fall. Saxon goes to work, tries not to think too much or too hard about Lochlan leaving for Venice in a few months, and comes home to Lochlan making them dinner. His cooking has improved drastically, so much so that Saxon tries his best to ignore and not make jokes about the video-game themed cookbooks he’s been getting charges for on his credit card.

After dinner they’ll curl up on the couch, some nature documentary Lochlan likes playing softly in the background as they cuddle and makeout. This often strays into something more; sometimes on the couch, sometimes in the shower, and sometimes, if they’re really good, they’ll wait until they actually get into bed for things to get intimate. 

It’s one of these nights when Saxon finally shows Lochlan the messages between him and Brandon. Lochlan is spooned against Saxon, rambling excitedly, trying to explain to Saxon what’s going on in the program they’re watching. Saxon’s breathing out “uh-huh”s, “wow”s, and “that’s crazy”s, when Lochlan flips over.

“Sax, you’re not even listening,” he pouts.

“That’s not true, I like hearing you talk, I’m just starting to get a little tired,” he mumbles, leaning in for a kiss.

“Whatever,” Lochlan rolls his eyes after giving him a quick peck, “I wanna see those text messages still. When are you going to show them to me? I promise I won’t flip out.”

Saxon stares at Lochlan for a moment. He’s smiling softly, calm and happy. Saxon hates this, hates to ruin his mood, but he knows he deserves to know.

“Okay,” he whispers.

He opens his phone screen with a tap, navigating to his messages with Brandon.

[BRANDON]: hey dude

[BRANDON]: i know we haven’t always gotten along in the past but i really do care about you as a person and i just thought i should come to you with this….it’s pretty concerning stuff

[BRANDON]: your brother is a really nice guy but he has like issues... .specifically issues with you. like some weird sexual shit

[BRANDON]: i tried to talk to him about it in person but he was being a total bitch lol….and he blocked me on everything so it’s not like i can text him either.

[BRANDON]: *One Video Attached*

[SAXON]: hey.

[SAXON]: this technically constitutes as revenge porn which is a class h felony in north carolina

[SAXON]: on top of criminal charges we can also file a civil lawsuit. 

[SAXON]: which i’m currently consulting my lawyer about rn

[SAXON]: oh and btw

[SAXON]: i wouldn’t send this to anyone else if i were you

[SAXON]: Lochlan gets $1,000 for each time the video is shared or for how many days it stays up on any public forums.

[SAXON]: and i’m sure you don’t wanna drain mommy and daddy’s bank accounts too much

[SAXON]: dude

“Is that true?” Lochlan asks. Saxon can feel him shaking and his heart twists.

“What do you mean? ”

“The stuff about a lawyer…they’ve seen this?! And since when the fuck have you had a lawyer?” Lochlan stammers. 

“Since Dad’s trial, I just thought that after everything…well you know. And yeah, they’ve seen it,” Saxon admits softly.

“They’re gonna know,” Lochlan whines anxiously, “about us…or at the very least about me. Isn’t that going to get me in trouble? Like isn’t this some type of evidence that we…that I… ”

“No, no, no baby,” Saxon shakes his head quickly, and pulls Lochlan closer, “I’d never do anything that could hurt you. We would only get in trouble if people found out we were doing stuff with each other, okay? There’s nothing in this video that indicates that at all.”

“I say your name during sex,” Lochlan growls, “I feel like that’s evidence. Even if it doesn’t get us in trouble in a court of law it still makes me look like….like a-”

“ Lochlan,” Saxon interjects so forcefully it makes Lochlan go quiet, “there could be a million reasons you say my name. The guy kinda looks exactly like me, and you were inebriated during it right? For all they know you could have thought it was me.”  

“Great, so they’re going to know that a drunken me would willingly have sex with you. I’m sure the law makes exceptions for incest when at least one of the parties involved has had one too many Coors,” Lochlan mutters sarcastically.

Minutes go by. Saxon can tell that Lochlan’s furious, can practically feel the rage and shame build up into the small, trembling body that lay beside him. He tries to hold back his own tears, it’s not fair for him to cry over Lochlan’s own trauma, or his own reaction to Saxon’s actions. He tries to choose his next words carefully.

“It didn’t sound willing,” Saxon whispers finally, “it sounded like you were trying to get him to stop.”

“No it didn’t,” Lochlan chokes out, and Saxon can tell he’s close to crying as well, “No I wasn’t….he wasn’t….it wasn’t like that.”

“It did sound like that. I mean, c’mon Lochlan, I know what you sound like when we have sex and it’s not like that,” Saxon insists gently, “And anyways, that’s the story the lawyers and I are going with if anyone asks. But they really shouldn’t, what you say in the video doesn’t negate whether or not it was revenge porn. It’s irrelevant to the case.”

“Do you think I’d ever think you were capable of doing that to me, Sax?” Lochlan asks quietly, shifting his body so he’s facing Saxon now.

His watery brown eyes are wide and staring up at Saxon in a way that devastates him. He is so beautiful, and somehow still so loving with him, despite everything Saxon has done to him. Saxon swallows and feels his face contorts, he knows what he’s done to Lochlan, what he’s capable of. He swallows again, clearing his throat.

“I don’t know Lochy,” he whispers, lowering his head so his forehead is pressed against Lochlan’s chest, “maybe not that but sometimes I worry that I….I feel like I really fucked you up baby….I know we talked about it back in Costa Rica briefly but I just always feel like….like everything I did with you when we were growing up, everything leading up to that night in Thailand….do you think that I, that it was-”

“Yeah probably,” Lochlan admits and Saxon breaks.

He cries, his back shaking as he clutches onto Lochlan’s shirt, burying his face in his chest. Little I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry’ s escaping through his sobs. He hates himself for it, hates himself for the fact that he’s the one crying while they’re talking about what he’s done to Lochlan

“It doesn’t matter Sax,” Lochlan tries to soothe him, rubbing circles on his back with his palms,  “I already forgave you a long time ago. And I love you no matter what. We can’t go back and change anything, and I wouldn’t anyways, I’m happy we ended up this way. You’re my person, Saxon.”

“Like yin and yang? You’re my hope and I’m your pain,” Saxon laughs through his tears, it’s an inside joke that Lochlan doesn’t quite get but he can’t help himself.

“Shut up,” Lochlan hushes, tilting Saxon's face up so he can look at him.  

His eyes and cheeks are also wet from tears but he has a soft smile on his face. He looks at peace, content. He’s going to be okay, I’m going to make sure of it, Saxon thinks as Lochlan leans down, his lips grazing Saxon’s.

“You’re not my pain,” he says in between the kisses, “you’re my peace.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Years go by.

Saxon’s lawyer is a fucking beast and Brandon and his family are ordered by the courts to pay Lochlan a hefty two million dollars. One million for libel, five hundred thousand for intentional infliction of emotional distress, and another five hundred thousand in punitive damages. Not all of it’s collectable, Brandon’s family has more than the Ratliffs do now, but it turns out they’re nowhere near as wealthy as the Ratliffs used to be. Still, Lochlan ends up with enough to put a downpayment on a quaint little place in Venice, Veneto.

The place wasn’t anywhere near as extravagant as the house they grew up in, but Lochlan was so ecstatic when he had found it that Saxon couldn’t have cared less. The kitchen had an old-world charm, with dark wooden cabinets and cream-tiled walls. It was the kind of space where lazy Sunday mornings could be enjoyed, Lochlan would facetime Saxon while he flipped pancakes and rambled about his week at his engineering job. Spices, oils, and a large wooden spoon always rest by the stove in every single one of the calls. The sunlight filters through the window above the sink, casting a golden warmth that makes the whole room feel Saxon's looking into a happy memory.

Just beyond the kitchen, the dining-room-slash-living-room contains a rustic table surrounded by mismatched wooden chairs.  It was a place made for shared dinners and inside jokes, for late-night takeout and mornings filled with hot coffee and crispy slices of bacon. It kills Saxon everytime he sees it that he can’t be there for that, at least not yet. A few simple frames hang on the wall—each of them a picture of Lochlan with one of their family members. Their mother kissing him on his cheek on his graduation day. Their father and him cheering on the Blue Devils at a Duke football game. Piper when she had come up to visit him, a picture of them laughing in a gondal. And finally, just above the couch, framed in matte brown, is a photo of Lochlan and Saxon in Costa Rica. It’s slightly blurred, clearly taken by someone else. They’re sitting on a shared beach towel, Lochlan’s head is thrown back in laughter, and Saxon is looking at him, not the camera, with this rare, unguarded softness. It nearly made him cry the first time he saw it, and Saxon’s heart still jumps a little every time he sees it.

But Saxon’s favorite part was the outside of the house. A tiny garden, bursting with life, something that looked like it could be out of a fairytale. Pale pink hydrangeas leaned in close to a mint-green fence, and an old white table sat in the center, perfect for wine-drunk evenings under the stars. It was quiet, just enough space for two people to enjoy together, to grow something together. He didn’t know it at the time, but after he moves up, Saxon will end up spending hours in that garden. He will fall in love with the routine of it, early mornings spent digging his hands into the earth, learning which plants thrive in shade and which need the full blaze of daylight to grow. The feeling of the warm sun beating down on his back as he works. It would start as a way to keep himself busy while Lochlan was at work, to make the space prettier, fuller, and to feel like he was doing something of value. But over time, it would become something else entirely—a quiet obsession, a grounding habit. He found peace in the slow, steady rhythm of watching something grow because of his care. Something he could completely control without having to worry if he was corrupting it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They do long distance for three years. Saxon has the excuse of telling their parents that he wants to be there for Lochlan during the trial whenever he visits for the first two, and when they finally win the case Lochlan makes sure to find a house with two bedrooms so suspicions aren’t raised. Their mother always praises them over the phone, telling Lochlan how brave and strong he is and what a good older brother Saxon is. Things with their father have been tense since that one Christmas but he still tells them how proud he is of them every time they call.

Piper is the only one with suspicions. It makes Saxon’s blood boil sometimes, how much easier it would be if she just wasn’t in the picture. But Lochlan and her are so close and they love each other so fiercely, Saxon knows they have to figure out a way to tell her. So, a few months before Saxon moves up, Lochlan invites Piper up for a week to try to explain everything to her. 

He knows Lochlan told her when he wakes up one morning to find that she’s blocked him on everything. Suddenly, for one of the first times in fifteen years, he’s hit with all the memories of Piper and him as kids, before Lochlan was even born. How close they used to be. It hits him square in the chest, rocks him with grief. Also anxiety. They needed to find a way for Lochlan to tell her while making sure she wouldn’t tell Mom and Dad.

“How’d it go?” he asks that night on the phone, his fingers nervously tapping the smooth marble of his kitchen island.

“She’s not telling Mom or Dad,” Lochlan says immediately and Saxon breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, good, yeah that’s good,” he stammers, still trembling slightly.

“Yeah, it’s really only the good part,” Lochlan hums, upset, “she kept going on and on about you being a predator and like, grooming me.”

Saxon feels feverish.

“Wha-what did you say?”

He almost doesn’t want to know.

“I told her we’ve talked about it,” Lochlan murmurs, “that you’re like, aware of everything and sorry and whatnot.”

“I’m sure she believed that,” he laughs bitterly.

“Yeah,” Lochlan swallows, “she told me she was going to go no contact with you. And me until I’ve figured my shit out and want her help, whatever that means.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry,” Saxon laments, “I knew she’d probably go full scorched earth with me, and I woke up to her blocking me, but I didn’t think she’d….with you and her it’s always been so-”

“It’s fine,” Lochlan cuts him off, “she’ll be back as soon as she needs some emotional validation. I’m giving her like, a year tops.”

Saxon practically loses it at that, doubles over over with laughter. His brother is barely rude, but when he is, he is so biting it’s comical.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he finally moves up, arrives on Lochlan’s doorstep, Lochlan doesn’t even wait until the door is closed to grab and kiss him. Saxon immediately tenses, pulling away out of instinct.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Lochlan whispers, “nobody here knows.”

Saxon relaxes into the kiss, and instantly feels his whole body go warm with comfort. He’s visited Lochlan plenty of times throughout the last three years, but this is different. This is a coming home and finally staying kiss. It’s tender, soft, and all consuming, passionate. Saxon can feel the heat from the sun on his back and from Lochlan’s steady hands, gripping the back of his head like he’s some kind of life preserver. It reminds him of how it felt back in Thailand all those years ago, their first kiss. The start of it all.

He wishes, not for the first time, that he’d done this sooner. That he had gotten his shit together and moved up sooner. He tries to remind himself how important it is that he didn’t though, how important it is that he gave Lochlan a few more years. More time to grow, figure his shit out. Figure out if his feelings for Saxon had just been some childhood-to-teenage hormonal crush. Give Lochlan a chance with someone who could have given him a happy, normal life instead of whatever it was that they have. 

Lochlan, to his surprise, never wavered in his affections for Saxon. He thought surely, sometime during those years they did long distance, during Lochaln’s first years of adulthood, he’d find someone else. He could’ve been lying to Saxon whenever he mentioned he wasn’t seeing anyone else, sure. Saxon had told him he was allowed to see other people, and he wouldn’t have put it past Lochlan to keep something like that from him, he of all people would know how possessive Saxon could be, how much the idea of Lochlan with someone else would crush him.

And yet, Saxon couldn’t help but search for clues that he could never find. No hickies on Lochlan’s neck during facetime calls unless Saxon had recently visited, no glaringly obvious leftover items from hookups in Lochlan’s bedroom whenever he did visit, and the way Lochlan would still talk to him, fuck, even look at him sometimes…it made Saxon melt a little bit. Lochlan, even after years of them being together, would still get so flustered and wide-eyed for Saxon. It was always just like they were back in Thailand, Costa Rica, or that hotel room during their first time together. 

It was more than that though, he knew. His brother had been looking at Saxon his whole life that way, he always just assumed it was something he’d grow out of. He didn’t ever really think it was something that would last. That this kind of love was something that could be afforded for a person like him, a love so real and brutally raw. It felt like a sucker punch to the chest every single time. 

The sex also feels this way every single time. It’s so much more intense than anything he’s ever felt with any woman, so much more real. Maybe it’s because Lochlan’s always been the realest thing to him anyways. The weight of it is almost unbearable. Sometimes when they fuck Lochlan will make little “ ah..ah..ah” sounds or get a certain look on his face that will send Saxon reeling. To his embarrassment, he still cries during it sometimes. Lochlan always manages to break some kind of chasm within him, and once he starts he can’t stop. 

It’s almost unbelievable how good Lochlan can make him feel, how beautiful he looks every single time. The way he sounds when they do it. Lochlan with his smooth, porcelain back arched, moaning, as Saxon fucks him in their bed. Lochlan with his big brown eyes, wide and teary, whimpering, as he takes Saxon on the edge of their kitchen table. Lochlan riding Saxon on their living room couch, whispering praise in Saxon’s ear the whole time.

“You’re the best big brother ever,” Lochlan will purr with a slight smirk, knowing the shame arouses him as much as the praise does, “look at you being so good to me, taking care of me like this. Only you could make me feel this good, you know that right?”

Lochlan’s been more confident during sex since Saxon’s moved up, he notices. More willing to take the reins, ask Saxon for things, or say things like that unprompted. It startles him at first, but it never turns him off. The opposite, in fact. He just can’t help himself; it’s like Lochlan always knows the right buttons to push, the right things to say that make it feel so impossibly good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He thinks Lochlan’s confidence might have grown to be a bit too strong, however, a few months into him moving up. Saxon had never been much of a morning person, but the smell of the lilacs that grew right outside their window (which they usually left open) and the sound of Lochlan's soft snores had made him fall in love with waking up next to him every morning. He stumbled into the kitchen, his eyes half-closed, and went to make the two of them some coffee. 

The aroma of the freshly brewed beans filled the room, mixing with the faint scent of Lochlan's cologne that always lingered in the air. He couldn't help but smile as he poured himself a cup, the warmth spreading through him as he took a sip. The quiet was soothing, a stark contrast to the chaotic, stress-filled life he'd left behind in North Carolina. 

Then he felt it—warm breath on his neck, gentle kisses from soft lips moving along his shoulder blades, and the feeling of Lochlan’s hands wrapping around his waist. He didn’t resist. In fact, he leaned back into his brother’s touch, letting out a content sigh. Lochlan had a knack for knowing exactly what Saxon needed, when he needed it, and how much. Saxon turned around smiling, meeting his brother, who also had a devious smirk plastered onto his face. 

“Hey, good morning,” Saxon murmured, still sleepy as he tilted his face down to kiss Lochlan.

Saxon's eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned his hands back, resting them against the kitchen counter. The kiss was slow and deep, Lochlan’s  tongue danced with his, exploring every inch of his mouth as if he was searching for something. He felt Lochlan’s hands sneak from around his waist, his thumbs tracing lazy circles around the sensitive skin above his hipbones. It was soothing and erotic, a heady combination that made Saxon's mind go foggy. He was lost in the sensation, his thoughts scattered as he felt Lochlan’s mouth move from his own, going lower and lower. Eventually he felt Lochlan’s hands around his pajama pants, pulling them down as he planted a kiss right below his stomach. He groaned with anticipation, knowing what was about to happen.

Lochlan’s movements were slow and deliberate, teasing and taunting as he took Saxon’s cock into his mouth. Each suck, each bob of his head sent jolts of pleasure up Saxon’s spine. He could feel his toes curling against their kitchen tile, his breath catching in his throat as he held onto the counter for dear life. He didn’t know how Lochlan was able to make it feel so good every time, and didn't want to think about how many other men he must have done this with before Saxon. 

It doesn’t matter, they don’t matter, he reminded himself, I might not have been the first, but God damnit if I’m not the last.

Saxon’s hips began to move slightly, pushing into Lochlan’s mouth, setting a rhythm that Lochlan eagerly followed. One hand found Lochlan’s hair, threading through his soft curls as he gently guided his brother’s head. Lochlan took the hint, increasing his pace, his grip on Saxon’s waist tightening. It was like he was trying to devour Saxon whole, and Saxon was more than willing to let him.

Then, without warning, Lochlan’s hand slipped lower, his fingers finding the space between Saxon’s ass cheeks. Saxon’s eyes flew open, feeling anger rise in his chest. He didn’t do that . He didn’t like that. But before he could protest, Lochlan’s finger had found his hole, the tip pressing ever so gently. Saxon’s body stiffened, his mind racing with a mix of rage and confusion. He was about to push Lochlan away when Lochlan’s eyes met his, filled with a mischievous spark and a silent challenge.

Saxon’s anger grew, but so did his arousal. He wanted to yank Lochlan’s hand away, but his body was responding in ways he couldn’t control. He felt his dick twitch inside of Lochlan’s mouth, begging for more. He tried to pull away, but Lochlan’s grip tightened, and then, slowly but surely, he slipped the finger inside. The sudden intrusion was a shock to Saxon’s system, his eyes rolling back in his head as he let out an animalistic moan. It was wrong. It was so fucking wrong, but it felt... amazing.

The rage swelled up in him, turning into something else, something more primal. Lochlan added another, and he pushed back onto his fingers, fucking himself on them as Lochlan’s mouth continued to worship his cock. The pressure of Lochlan’s fingers inside of him had rendered him speechless. Though he couldn’t communicate with words, needy, desperate sounds he had never heard himself make before were spilling out of his mouth. The sensation was overwhelming, and Saxon could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He was going to come, and as embarrassing as it was, he knew it was from Lochlan fucking him with his dainty, slender fingers. He could feel it, building in the pit of his stomach, rising through his body like a tsunami of pleasure and shame. And when he finally did, it was the most intense orgasm he’d ever had, his body shaking, a cry springing from his mouth from the force of it. He came down from it gasping, his eyes still closed, his mind racing.

When he opened them, Lochlan was staring up at him, smug satisfaction written all over his face. 

“Don’t ever fucking do that again,” Saxon murmured, the words slipping from his mouth before he could process what had just happened.

Lochlan’s eyes widened slightly before he nodded, a soft mischievous smile still on his lips.

“Yes sir,” he saluted mockingly, making Saxon scoff, trying to ignore how the sir made something rise in his stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the next few days, Saxon found himself craving that feeling, that specific kind of fullness and the way Lochlan’s eyes had sparkled with power and pleasure while he had done it. He didn’t bring it up again, didn’t even allow his thoughts to linger on it longer than a second. He had to keep the upper hand here, and had to make sure Lochlan knew who was in charge. So instead he focused on working from home, his workouts, their garden, anything and everything but how the sensation of Lochlan’s fingers inside of him had made him feel.

But it was like Lochlan had some kind of sixth sense, because every time Saxon would start to forget, every time he’d start to get into a rhythm, he’d feel Lochlan’s eyes on him. It was always just a glance, quick and fleeting, but it contained that look , which was enough to bring back the memories of those fingers inside of him, the way he’d felt so vulnerable yet so much pleasure at the same time. It was driving him insane.

One night, when they were both drunk off their asses, Saxon couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed Lochlan by the neck and pushed him down onto the couch, his own need for control overpowering his pride. He fucked him hard, the way he knew Lochlan liked it, his brother’s legs wrapped tight around his waist, those same fingers digging into his back, leaving bruises that would last for days. But even as he came, even as he felt Lochlan’s grip tighten around him, it wasn’t enough. He wanted that feeling again. He needed it.

Days turned into weeks, and Saxon’s frustration grew. He’d try to bring it up in subtle ways, hinting that maybe they could try something new. He didn’t mean that, but surely there was something else they could do, anything. Surely that would distract this desire that Saxon felt growing by the day. Everytime he did, however, Lochlan would just smile sweetly and tell Saxon that he was happy with the way things were. And Saxon knew that was bullshit. He knew that Lochlan had to be craving that power, that control. He wanted to give it to him too, knew how important it was for Lochlan to feel in control and empowered when they had sex after everything he had been through with Brandon. He just couldn’t….he wasn’t...the thought itself was just too much for him to even bear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One morning, they're in the shower together, something they often did to save water and time. Saxon had his back to the spray, rinsing out the conditioner from his hair, when he felt Lochlan’s slick hand caressing his ass. He tensed, hoping he was just trying to massage his body wash into his skin, but then Lochlan’s fingers slipped down, teasing his hole. He spun around, eyes flashing with anger.

“You liked it,” Lochlan murmured, a hint of challenge in his voice.

Saxon’s hand shot out and grabbed his brother’s wrist, twisting it so the fingers retreated.

“I told you not to do that again,” he hissed.

Lochlan looked up at him, water running down his face, mixing with the heat in his eyes.

“You liked it, though. And I know you want me to do it again.”

Saxon’s grip tightened, his jaw clenching.

“What I want is for you to respect me, to not do stupid shit that makes me feel like a fucking fa—”

Lochlan cut him off with a kiss, pressing his body against Saxon’s. The warm water cascaded down them as Lochlan’s free hand found Saxon’s cock, stroking it gently. Saxon’s resolve crumbled like a cookie in milk, and he found himself kissing back, the anger in his chest melting by the second. It was impossible to stay mad at Lochlan. Growing up, whenever he got caught doing something, he’d look up at Saxon with those big puppy eyes.

“Please don’t be mad.”

Saxon would give in every single time.

They broke apart from the kiss, both panting, and Saxon stared down at his brother. He was so beautiful, so tempting. And suddenly they were kids again and Saxon was letting his baby get away with exactly what he wanted, yet again.

“Please,” Lochlan whispered, pleading, his eyes never leaving Saxon’s, “Just let me make you feel good like that again. I want to see you fall apart for me, just like I do for you. I’ll make it feel so so good, please Saxy.”

Saxon’s eyes narrowed, his grip on Lochlan’s wrist tightening.

“Fine,” he growled, “but we’re only going to do it once, do you understand?”

Lochlan nodded eagerly, a spark in his eyes that sent a thrill through Saxon’s body. He released his brother’s wrist and stepped back, not being able to hold back a smile as Lochlan shook with excitement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They spend that evening drinking wine and talking, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. It was a dance they had performed a hundred times before, and Saxon always looked forward to them spending their nights getting drunk and laughing until their sides hurt in their shared garden. But tonight, something was different. The wine was hitting him harder than usual, warm and tingly in his veins, softening his harden edges. Lochlan’s eyes were filled with a determination that Saxon hadn’t seen in years, and whenever he looked at Saxon, there was a spark of excitement in his gaze that sent a shiver down Saxon’s spine.

Saxon swayed slightly as he shifted in his seat, the world tilting and going hazy as the sun set, casting a golden glow over them. He had to be in control, he always did, but Lochlan's gaze was steady, unblinking, too knowing. Saxon felt exposed under it, like suddenly everything he had kept so carefully buried was rising to the surface. He knew his brother could see right through him, see the desire that he had tried to keep hidden for so long from everyone, including himself. So he took a deep breath and cleared his throat, focusing his eyes on his glass of wine, as if staring at it long enough might anchor himself back in.

“I think I’m ready,” he whispered finally, hating how nervous he sounded. How weak.

“Yeah?”

Lochlan sounded so quiet and sweet, so unsure. Saxon closed his eyes, his face burning with shame as he nodded slowly.

“Yeah.”

He heard the sound of Lochlan’s chair dragging away from the table, followed by the softness of Lochlan’s footsteps. Then there was his touch, his hands wrapping around Saxon’s face, tilting his jaw up to meet his mouth. Rain broke through the clouds as they kissed, Lochlan’s gentle hands moving down to Saxon’s stomach under his shirt, exploring every inch of him. His touch was different tonight, more insistent, more confident. Saxon’s body responded, his cock hardening under Lochlan’s grip as a tendril of hair fell against his wet forehead. 

They stumbled out of the garden, their skin slick and steamy from the rain mixing with the summer heat, and into the bedroom. Lochlan pushed him down onto the bed, straddling his thighs as he kissed him deeply. Saxon’s hands gripped the sheets, his eyes wide with anticipation and fear. This was it. He was going to let his brother take him, let him do the thing he had always been too scared to admit he wanted.

Lochlan took his time, kissing him everywhere, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as they undressed. Then, Lochlan reached across to their bedstand, his hand shaking slightly as he grabbed their bottle of lube, and squeezed some out onto his fingertips. He looked up at Saxon with a mix of excitement and nerves, and Saxon couldn’t help but feel a thrill at the sight.

“Slow,” he instructed, as Lochlan’s finger circled his asshole before pressing in.

The sensation was unbearable, a mix of pain and pleasure that made Saxon’s toes curl. He gripped the bedsheets as he let out a small moan, bracing himself, as Lochlan added another finger.

“That’s my good boy,” he gasped out, his voice thick with lust. “Keep going, just like that.”

Lochlan’s eyes never left Saxon’s as he worked his fingers in and out, stretching him open. The feeling of his brother’s slick fingers pushing into him was unlike anything Saxon had ever felt before. It was terrifying and exhilarating, a mix of pleasure and pain that made him moan and whimper in a way he never had before.

“You’re so tight,” Lochlan whispered, his voice light with amazement, “Oh my god Sax, this is crazy, oh my god.”

Saxon’s eyes rolled back in his head as Lochlan worked a third finger inside him, stretching him wider than he ever had been. He was so close, so close to letting go and letting Lochlan have what he wanted. 

And then he felt it, the absence of Lochlan’s fingers. His eyes flew open, locking onto Lochlan’s, as he watched him lube up his cock. Tentatively, Lochlan pushed it against his brother’s hole. He took his time sinking in, and Saxon couldn’t help but grow harder as he watched Lochlan’s face contorted with pleasure and shock.

And when Lochlan finally bottomed out, filling him up completely, Saxon couldn’t hold back any longer.

He cried out, his body arching off the bed as Lochlan began to move. It was a feeling he had never experienced before, a feeling of being completely filled and dominated by another person. It was overwhelming and intense, and he knew he would never be able to go back to the way things were before.

Their eyes locked as Lochlan moved above him, a look of power and pleasure that Saxon had never seen was etched across his brother’s face. He always thought he would hate it, giving away all control and submitting completely to someone else, but now that it was directed at him, he found himself loving every second of it. He had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet so completely turned on. 

“I feel kind of nauseous,” Lochlan pants out in between strokes, “I think I–”

“No, fuck, don’t stop,” Saxon whimpers out before he can think, “you feel so fucking good inside of me, Jesus Christ.”

“Oh okay,” Lochlan murmurs, “sorry.”

Their movements grew faster, more desperate, as Lochlan found a rhythm to his strokes. Saxon’s nails dug into Lochlan’s back, leaving deep scratches as he begged for more, for Lochlan to never stop.

 “Mmm so good, Lochy,” he moans, “want you like this all the time.”

“Yeah? What happened to this being a one time thing?”

“No, fuck that,” he growls in between his moans, “I want you to live inside of me. Right where you fucking belong.”

Lochlan’s eyes go wide with shock before his face relaxes into a smile that’s more wicked than any Saxon’s seen on him before. Even more so than the one he had after their first kiss. 

He leans in and bites Saxon’s ear, whispering, “I knew you’d come around eventually.”

As they continue Saxon feels waves of pleasure washing over him, drowning him, the sound of their moans and the slap of skin filling the air. The rain outside is a gentle background noise to their intense fucking, and as they reach their peak, Saxon feels something give way inside of him. Saxon’s legs are shaking, his toes curling into the mattress as he feels himself getting closer to the edge. And then he’s falling, his eyes rolling back in his head as he cries out, his orgasm ripping through him like a tornado. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before, the feeling of his brother’s cock pulsing inside of him, filling him up, claiming him. His own cock spurts out ropes of come between their stomachs, and he can feel Lochlan’s own orgasm, the head of his dick pressing against his prostate as he fills him with his come.

He’s lost in the sensation, lost in the feeling of Lochlan’s body shaking above him, lost in the sound of Lochlan’s moans in his ear. And when he finally comes back to reality, he’s shocked to find that he’s been crying. He’s never felt so much in his life.

He’s never felt so alive, so connected to someone, so utterly and completely in love.

When they’re both finished, panting and sticky with sweat, Lochlan collapses on top of him, his head on Saxon’s chest. Saxon wraps his arms around his brother and holds him tightly. 

“Thank you,” Lochlan whispers into the quiet, his voice still hoarse from his own sobs and moans.

“For what?” Saxon asks, playing dumb. He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it from his brother’s mouth.

“For letting me do that. For letting me be in the one in control. And for letting me show you how much I care about you. I think I really needed that” Lochlan says, his voice thick with emotion.

Saxon’s heart clenches, and he squeezes his brother tighter.

“I love you, Saxon,” Lochlan murmurs softly.

“I love you too, Lochy,” he says, the words slipping out without a second thought. Because it’s true, and it might have been the only thing in Saxon's life that has always been true. At least for him.

They lay there for a while, their bodies tangled together, listening to the rain and their own heavy breathing until they both fall asleep.

The next morning, Saxon wakes up to an empty bed, the scent of Lochlan still lingering on his pillow. He rolls over and looks at the clock, noticing it’s later than he’s ever slept in. He gets up and walks out of the bedroom to find Lochlan in the kitchen, making them breakfast.

The sight of him is so domestic, so right, that Saxon’s heart skips a beat. He watches from the doorway for a moment, taking in the sight of his brother’s bare back, the way the muscles move as he stirs a pan of eggs.

“Morning, beautiful,” Lochlan says without looking over his shoulder, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Morning,” Saxon smiles, feeling lighter than he has in years. He slips his arms around Lochlan’s waist, presses a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“Smells good” he murmurs, voice still rough with sleep, “you should cook breakfast for me more often.”

Lochlan laughs softly at Saxon’s teasing. “Well I only do it for the people I love.”

He doesn’t say anything back, doesn’t have to. He just holds him, and doesn’t let go.

They didn’t talk about the night of the Full Moon Party, not for years. 

If Saxon had it his way before they had gotten the chance to, Lochlan and him would’ve gone about their respective lives, interacting as little as possible. He had wanted Lochlan to grow up to be just like him; Duke graduate, finance bro, and of course, total ladies’ man. Mostly he had just wanted Lochlan in his distant orbit, following in his footsteps but never too closely. Two parallel lines stretching across the same plane in the same direction, never intersecting.

In high school, his geometry teacher had once told the class that parallel lines meet at infinity. Saxon never fully understood that, could never comprehend that, the concept of infinity. Of two parallel lines somehow meeting and never ending, always and forever one.

Saxon presses his lips against Lochlan’s temple. And suddenly, like a perfect truth unfolding in front of him, he understands.