A Wal Into the Unnown

Thank you to everyone who read the first chapter and for all the wonderful feedback. I apologize for how long it took to get this second chapter posted. My original plan was to post one long chapter, but I realized what I was writing was actually two different chapters. So this is chapter two and very soon I'll be posting chapter three. I also want to point out that this is not a series. I would like to come back to these characters at some point, but I don't have any plans for a forth chapter at the moment. I'm sure there will be one at some point in time, but I would like to work on other stories before I come back to this one. My plan is to have each chapter be a self contained story, unlike a series where each chapter ends on some type of lead-in to another part. (Except for this chapter, since there will be a third one.) If all that makes sense, I hope you enjoy the next part in Rach and Rog's journey!

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The hum of the bus rattles down to my bones and for a moment I wonder if life can get any better. You'd think the two of us would be tired of cramping ourselves into these little tin cans for hours on end but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world. The bus hits what must be a large pothole and jolts everyone into the present. I lift my head from its resting place on his chest and look up at the warm soothing smile of the man sitting next to me.

My lover, my partner, and yes my brother; Rog.

I can tell he had his eyes closed as well as they try to focus and orient themselves. He leans down and gives me a gentle kiss on my forehead. I nestle my head into his chest and close my eyes again. We left Denver who knows how long ago and should be arriving in Las Vegas in t-minus "I have no idea".

This is the farthest I've ever been away from home.

We grew up on a dirt road in the middle of no-where New Jersey (if that's even a thing). Our dad wasn't much of one. Rog and I took care of everything, even him. We finally had enough and decided to run away, though at nineteen I don't think you can call it "running away" anymore. I think the proper term at my age is "moving out". Rog is two years older than me and we're the only two people in each other's lives. We thought that only went as far as brother and sister until we both admitted to each other how much we are in love. It's weird, I still see him as my older brother but also the man I love. It's been a couple of weeks now and the spell hasn't worn off, which means it's not a spell at all.

Our mom left us when we were young and though it's always left a sore spot in my heart, apparently it hit Rog even worse. It was his idea to go to Los Angeles and look for her. He said something about finding her online a while back. We don't have an address or even a neighborhood, we just know she's in Los Angeles. To be honest, I don't think we'll find her, so I haven't gotten my hopes up. To me, LA is just a place to go. It's fitting because it feels like the farthest you can go by bus to get away from New Jersey without leaving the country.

I wonder if that's why our mom came here to begin with. Our dad can bring that out in people.

If we find her, that's great, if we don't, I won't think twice about it. The real goal is to get away from our old lives and start a new one together in a place where no one knows we're brother and sister.

I can tell the trip is having an effect on Rog. He was always quiet growing up, so it was always hard to read him. I read in a book once you can always tell someone's character based on how they make love. A selfish person is selfish in bed, like that. When Rog and I had sex for the first time, it was like I was seeing a side of him I never knew. He was aggressive, almost angry. I knew he would never hurt me but I could tell there was anger beneath the surface, and I knew exactly where it was coming from; our dad. He brought out the worst in people. Living around him was like having a raincloud over your head all day. It was like the floor of our house was lined with eggshells and you were constantly trying not to get hurt, tiptoeing around and trying not to make noise. It was like there was a negative energy around that house because the further away we got, the more Rog seemed to loosen up. His touch softened, his expression warmed. He no longer grabbed me and held tight with a fury in his eyes but rather held me and caressed me like our love was a baby that needed to be cradled. I can feel it in myself as well. My stomach is no longer in knots, I no longer feel that dread deep down. I never even knew it was there until we left and everything inside me began to unwind. The best part is we no longer have to hide our affection for each other. No one knows us. It's like we entered the world the moment we left that awful house.

I hear a high-pitched squeal and my body jerks forward. The bus comes to a stop and I open my eyes as I sit upright again.

"We're here," Rog says.

I've never been to Las Vegas, but then again I've never been anywhere. We grab our backpacks from the overhead bin as everyone gets up and starts slowly walking toward the front of the bus. Most of the people here are probably on their way to a casino, but not us. We have enough money to get to LA and get setup but certainly not enough to gamble. I never understood the draw of casinos. Back in New Jersey, we didn't live that far from Atlantic City, only about an hour away. I never went once. Never had the desire to go. Casinos are designed to take your money, why would you go to them?

Rog puts his hands on my shoulder and I feel a flutter in my stomach. When we finally get off the bus, I grab his hand.

"Where to?" I ask him.

He looks around for a moment as he gets his bearings. We booked a cheap hotel near the bus depot when we were in Denver. He studied the map before we left so that he wouldn't have to use the data on his cell phone when we got here. Our phones are pre-paid, so everything costs money.

"This way," he says once he figures it out.

We hoist our backpacks on our backs and grab each other's hand as we start walking down the sidewalk.

"You hungry?" He asks me.

I shake my head. "No. Are you? I can eat if you are."

He shakes his head as well. "It's late. We should just get to sleep. The bus leaves early tomorrow."

In the morning, we're coming right back to this depot and hopping on our final bus of the trip. One last ride and we'll finally be in LA. Checkin at the hotel is much quicker than I anticipated. We have our key and are on our way to our room in no time at all. The place is called The California Hotel, a nice precursor before we actually get to California. The room isn't too bad. It's not nice, but it's not as bad as it could be considering the price we paid. I drop my bag and immediately start undressing.

"What are you doing?" Rog asks.

"The bus ride was too long," I say with a knowing smile. He gets the hint and starts undressing as well.

Once my clothes are off I look over at Rog. He's so strong. I never knew I was so attracted to strength before. Maybe it's because my dad is anything but strong. Rog catches me looking and smiles at me.

"What?" He asks.

"Nothing," I say with a smirk as I walk over to the bed, purposely bending over as I get on so he can get a nice look at my ass. He follows me and we both lay together, my head resting on his chest. He reaches over for the remote and turns the TV on.

"We're almost there," I say into his chest as my index finger rubs his stomach.

"I know. I can't believe it," he says as he flips through the channels.

My mind starts wandering and suddenly a question pops in my head. It's been bugging me ever since we left Kansas City but I don't know why. I ignored it at first but suddenly it's all I can think of. Maybe something that flashed by on the TV made me think of it? I don't know.

"Rog?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you still think of me as your sister?"

He doesn't answer at first. I can't see his face since my head is pointed at the TV. I wonder what he looks like right now.

"Yeah. Do you still think of me as your brother?"

I lean up on my arm so I can look at him.

"Yeah, I do. I thought maybe it wouldn't feel that way after a while but I can tell you'll always be my brother and my lover."

He nods. "Yeah. Is that okay?"

I smile at him. He must think I find this to be a bad thing. "Of course. What I'm saying is I don't want to become something else to you. I still want to be your sister."

He leans on his side now and we're both facing each other.

"You'll always be my sister. We'll always be family. Nothing will ever come between us." He flashes me a grin and I feel his hand slide between my legs and his fingers start to lightly rub my lips. "Well, that might come between us."

I throw my head back and laugh. "You're so lame!"

"I am?!"

"Yeah! You old man! Twenty-one and you're already so old!"

He pushes me onto my back and gets on top of me. "I'm old?"

"The oldest," I answer as I laugh.

He starts to tickle me and my body jerks against him. I can't control the laughter coming out of me. I feel his mouth on my shoulders and he starts to kiss me all over, holding me down so his tickle attack can continue.

"Old man Rog!" I manage to say.

His body inches down until his face is at my stomach. The tickling stops but he starts to run his tongue up and down the space below my belly button, which tickles just as much. I continue to wiggle but spread my legs wider as that new feeling of warmth starts to engulf me. He knows exactly where to touch me. Our hands clench together as his tongue moves further down. With his shoulders at the base of my thighs, I rest my feet on his back. I feel his nose lightly run up and down my nub and my body shivers in delight.

"Gnome kiss," he says. As kids we used to watch

David the Gnome

together. David and his wife Lisa would kiss by rubbing their noses together.

"Don't corrupt our childhood, Rog," I say teasingly.

He responds by rubbing his nose on my nub a little harder. I can feel his warm breath on my slit and it causes my hips to stretch and thrust open even further, my body inviting him in. Finally his tongue starts to massage me as he licks up the bits of juice that have already escaped. My hands clench his tighter. I let out a moan of pleasure as I feel his tongue enter me. Even his tongue is strong. It seems to part my lips with ease. He likes to stick his tongue inside me as far as it can go before he moves to my clit, I've noticed. It's funny the little things you learn about someone when you sleep with them. Once his tongue hits my clit, my feet rake down his back as a frustration builds inside me. I wrap my feet around both his sides and try to pull him in closer as if I want all of him inside me. He works his tongue in circles, the way he's discovered that makes me cum the hardest. I'm not going to be able to last long. I've been thinking about him all day. The bus ride was long and I would get wet and then dry again and then wet all over. Finally, we let go of each other's hands and he puts his on my stomach and pulls me in tight to his face. I grab the back of his head and squeeze two handfuls of his hair. I call out, not hiding my level of pleasure. Now that we don't have to worry about anyone hearing us, it's like I can't keep quiet anymore.

He can tell I'm close because I can feel his tongue pick up its pace. It's only a moment more until my legs clamp around his head, the only time I'm stronger than him. I feel him try to pull his head away but my legs are too tight and it makes me cum even harder. The sweet smell of my juices fills the air and everything seems wet all of a sudden. When my legs finally loosen, he pulls away and gets up on his knees. He's fully hard, his cock bulging in frustration. He parts my legs and glides his cock inside me while I'm still buzzing from the orgasm. I can feel his flesh fill me as he lays on top of me, burying his face into my shoulder. His thrusts begin at a sharp pace, no need to build up from here. He lifts his head and we touch foreheads so we can look at each other eye to eye. I'm bouncing off of him with each thrust but he wraps his arms under my shoulders and holds me in place.

"I fucking love you Rach," he pants.

"I...love you too...Rog," I try to say through the moans that keep escaping me.

I can hear the squish of my juices as he pumps me faster. He's about to erupt. I can now tell when he's close. I open my mouth and get ready. I know he doesn't like to cum inside me but sometimes he can't stop in time. When he can, he pulls out and puts his cock in my mouth so I can swallow his seed. I keep telling him I'm on the pill but sometimes that's not enough for him.

This isn't one of those times though. Suddenly his thrusts stop and he pushes his cock deep inside me and holds it there as his warm seed fills the depths of my hole. His hands grab the sheet underneath me and I can tell he's clenching it tight, not wanting to clench me like that anymore. When his cock is finally done unloading inside me, he lets his grip loosen and puts his hands flat on the bed to hold himself up. I love the feeling of his cock inside of me post-orgasm. He looks down at me, love radiating from his smile. I feel whole, like a part of me has been filled by him.

I guess I can mean that literally as well.

Every moment since we left that house has been the greatest moment of my life. I hope nothing ever comes between us. I lean down and I pucker my lips, awaiting his, but they don't come. Instead, I feel his nose rub against mine.

"Gnome kiss," he says.

God, I love him.

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Almost there. It's been almost four hours so we must be close. Once again, Rachel fell asleep on me. I never knew traveling on busses made her sleepy. Back in New Jersey, we used to ride the bus all the time, but never anything further than a twenty or thirty minute trip. It feels nice to have her nestled into me. It's almost like she feels safe knowing I'm here and that lets me know all of this has been worth it. We ditched our dad for a better life but I have no idea what we're walking into. I've never been to Los Angeles. I've never even been out of New Jersey! It's almost like there's some primal instinct kicking in because I feel like I have to make sure Rachel is safe when we get there, that she has a place to stay and food to eat. Maybe it's because I'm now her lover, maybe it's because I'm her older brother, maybe it's a combination of both, but I now feel like her provider.

I checked the route before we left and I know what time we should be arriving. I've seen a couple signs along the road giving the distance to Los Angeles, so I know we're almost there. Once we are, we'll stay in a hotel the first couple of nights until I can get a job situated. Once I have that, we can look for a cheap apartment. Can't tell how much we can afford until I have the job. It's a weird feeling because I've been a "provider" before. Our dad wasn't worth a shit. He was a drunk and never lifted a finger. I always had to work. The moment I turned fourteen and was legally able to, I had a job. Even before that, I was handling the finances. Our dad received a check from the military for an injury he received in Vietnam. Once when I was eight, the electricity turned off. Dad was passed out and it was only two in the afternoon. I started looking through the mountain of mail he never looked at and found a bill from the electric company. I called them and sorted it out. It took some convincing since the person on the phone could tell I was just a kid. I found my dad's debit card and paid the bill and about an hour after that, the electricity turned back on. From that point on, I made sure all the bills were paid. Eight years old and worrying about the electric bill. I think that's why all of this doesn't seem so scary to me, moving across the country. I'll figure it out, I always have.

The real issue is finding mom.

I told Rachel that's the reason to move to Los Angeles, and I was telling the truth. However, I didn't tell her I have an idea as to where she is. A few years ago I stumbled onto her MySpace page. "Stumbled" is kind of a mild way of putting it. It was a full out digital search. Once I found her, I couldn't muster up the courage to message her. I would just check her page every time we went to the library (since we didn't have a computer at home). What I didn't tell Rachel was that I figured out where in Los Angeles she lived. I don't know why I held it from her. Maybe I don't want to get her hopes up, but I know it's really because I don't want to get mine up. Eventually everyone stopped using MySpace, including my mom. Her page was gone and I never found another one for her. Facebook, Twitter, hell even LinkdIn, nothing. I'm here on the hopes that she's still in the same neighborhood.

What am I hoping will happen if I find her?

Fuck if I know. I can't really put it into words, it's just a feeling. I want to see her again. I want to find out why she left. I'll never forget the last thing she said to me. She hugged me tight and in my ear she whispered "Take care of your sister. You're the man of the house now. I love you." Then she went to Rachel and said something to her but I didn't hear it, I was already crying. I assume it was something along the same lines.

Take care of your sister. You're the man of the house now.

I glance down at Rachel asleep on my stomach. Is that what I'm doing now? Why shouldn't we be lovers? I love her, she loves me, we are in love. It only makes sense. I am taking care of her. Mom should be proud.

We finally turn into a bus depot and come to a stop. We're finally here, Los Angeles! Rachel wakes up from the scratch of the braking and yawns.

"Welcome back," I say.

"Are we there?"

I nod. "Welcome to Los Angeles."

"Yay," she says through another yawn.

We grab our bags from the compartment above our seats and make our way off the bus.

"Where to now?" She asks me.

"Our hotel is about a fifteen minute drive from here, so I figured we can just take a taxi."

I can see the relief on her face when I don't mention a bus.

"Tired of busses?" I ask with a smirk.

"I never want to take another one for the rest of my life."

"Well don't speak too soon," I say. "Until we get a car, all we have are busses. And unlike New Jersey, everything's spread out around here."

She groans as I give her a kiss on the forehead.

"Come on, let's get out of here," I say as I pick up my bag.

We go through the depot and out the front doors. There are a few taxis waiting for customers, so we hop in the back of one.

"Rodeway Inn on Santa Fe Ave," I say to the driver. I hope he knows what I'm talking about because I suddenly can't remember the full address.

Luckily the cabbie is using a GPS, so he plugs in what I said and we're on our way. When we get to the motel, we check in and find our room. One last checkin before we find a place of our own.

"So what's the plan tomorrow?" She asks.

"Well, we start going into all the stores around us and apply for jobs. At this point, I don't think it really matters what it is, right?

She nods.

"Whatever will pay us should be fine. I think if we both can find work, we should be able to afford something," I say, trying to reassure myself.

She stands in the middle of the room and starts to stretch, leaning down to her toes while keeping her legs straight, her hair falling in front of her.

"I feel so stiff," she says as she stretches. She stands up straight again, looking at me laying on the bed. "And mom?" She asks.

"What about her?"

"How are we going to find her?"

I shrug. "Don't know. We'll figure that out after we have jobs."