Jesse and I were sitting on the couch, naked, looking up at our father. His teeth were clenched; his mouth was twisted into a grimace. He didn't say anything, just stood there, breathing loudly through his nose. My heart was pounding like never before.
He would punish us. I didn't know how, but I knew it was coming. I was honestly surprised he hadn't hit us yet. His face was beet red. My dad looked us over. I was embarrassed, I couldn't imagine how Jesse was feeling. His own cum was still sliding down his chest, mine was still probably warm inside him.
"Jesse," my father finally said, "go clean yourself up."
Jesse nodded, and went to leave the living room. He glanced back quickly at me, giving me an apologetic look, before rushing off upstairs to shower. I turned back to my father.
"What the fuck was that, Michael?" He nearly shouted at me. I looked down.
"I come back to grab my wallet, and find you and your brother fucking on the couch?" He was fuming. He was pacing back and forth in front of me, tugging at his hair.
"I love him Dad." I said quietly, looking up at him. He practically snarled, before slapping me across the face. This one hurt. He wasn't trying to teach a lesson, he just wanted to inflict pain. I looked back at him, my eyes filling.
"You're sick. You're both sick."
I didn't respond. Just sat there, waiting. But I didn't cry. I wouldn't. I hadn't cried in five years, not since our parents divorced. I wouldn't let myself cry now.
My father sighed, sitting on the chair across from me. He wanted to hit me where it hurt.
"My plane is leaving tomorrow night. I expect one of you to be on it."
***
My father hadn't let Jesse and I alone since he'd caught us. It'd been twenty-four hours. Jesse and I hadn't spoken to one another. Our father had stayed up all night, watching in the hallway. Neither of us tried to sneak out of our rooms to see each other anyway. None of us had gotten any sleep.
"Jesse, I'll drive you to school now." I said numbly, grabbing the truck keys from the counter.
"Jesse can drive himself." My father said sternly. I looked between my brother and my father.
"I have class too. It's fine." I replied cautiously.
"Well, then I suppose one of you is going to have to walk." My father said. And then he opened up his newspaper and started to read. End of discussion.
Jesse's skin was ashen. His eyes were sunken in. He looked like a zombie. And without having gotten any sleep, he acted like one, too. I didn't want him driving. But I didn't have a choice. Jesse's math class started in fifteen, my English class started in a half hour. I tossed him the keys.
"I expect you home at four, Jesse." My father said as Jesse slowly walked outside. He nodded dumbly, but didn't say anything.
I waited a few minutes until I head the truck start, before I headed outside into the sun. I could make it to school in a half hour if I walked. I could make it there in half that time if I ran. So that's what I did.
I had this entire sordid situation figured out. Jesse and I would blow off class, and we'd just drive. Drive to a new town, and then we'd fly, fly to a new country. And then, we'd be fine. No father, no mother, just Jesse and I. We'd make things work somehow.
When I reached the school I was panting. My legs had carried me faster than I thought they ever could. I ran past the English wing, and headed for the math hallway. Jesse was outside his class, waiting for it to start.
"Jesse!" I said, pulling him into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around me, and we just held each other. I buried my nose in his hair, smelling him, breathing him in. God, I needed him. There was no way we could be separated, there's no way I could deal with that.
"Jesse, let's go baby. Let's go." I said, pulling away from him slightly. He looked up at me, his green eyes filling with confusion.
"Go where? I can't go, I have class."
"Jess, that's not important. We need to leave here. We need to get away, go to a different city. Just me and you." I took his face in my hands, looking desperately into his eyes. I needed to make him understand.
"Oh Mike," He pulled away, looked down at the ground and swallowed thickly. "I thought about this all last night... I'm going with Dad."
My heart dropped right out of my chest and fell to the floor, split into a million tiny pieces.
"No. No. Absolutely not."
"Mike, what were we thinking? This has to stop. What? Were we going to graduate, get good jobs, get married, have kids? You know that this will never work. And maybe... maybe this is good. Maybe it's good that he caught us, stopped us, before this got too heavy."
"Got too heavy? Jesse, I love you. How much heavier could it have possibly gotten?" I took his hands in mine, and he looked down at the ground, not meeting my eyes.
"I have to go to class, Mike. Let me go." His voice was firm. His eyes met mine and he looked so much older than himself. I'd never seen him so... adult before.
"Please." It was nearly a whisper. He looked up at me, his eyes widened slightly in shock. He'd never seen me so... weak before. I'd never felt so weak before. Jesse stood frozen for a few moments before he finally sucked in a deep breath.
"Okay, Michael. Okay."
I grabbed his hand and led him to the school parking lot. I was aware of how unstable I was, but I tried to ignore it. I could feel the tears threatening to spill over, the fear creeping up my spine. This was it. Once we did this, there was really no going back, ever.
"The keys, Jesse." I said, standing by the driver's side of the truck. Jesse looked at me and raised his eyebrow. He seemed so... level-headed. It caught me off guard. Did he know something I didn't? How could he be so calm?
"Maybe I should drive." He said quietly. I scoffed. He never drove, not when I was able to.
"Why? No. Give me the keys." I had meant for it to sound strong, but my voice was wavering. I was losing it. It was so unfamiliar, and so...embarrassing. It was embarrassing for him to see me so weak.
"Mike, you aren't fit to drive."
I stared at him for a few seconds. Then, reluctantly I moved to the passenger side, and climbed it. I avoided looking at Jesse as he climbed into the driver's side and turned the truck on.
As he pulled out of the parking lot, I was overcome with emotion.
I was ashamed. I had never before been weak in front of my brother, not even when our parents divorced. And I was scared. I couldn't lose him again. I couldn't give away my little brother for another five years. Who knows how much would change? Would he still love me when we could be together again? Would he still need me, the same way he needed me now?
Did he need me now? He wanted to go with Dad. He wanted to stop this before things got too heavy. He wanted to stop this.
He. Wants. To. Stop.
And suddenly, I was crying. And it wasn't the strong, silent type of crying either. I was sobbing. My entire body was shaking, big, wet tears spilt down my cheek and I was gasping.
"Mike." Jesse said, turning to me. "Michael, it's okay."
"You can't leave me, Jesse, you can't leave me." I sobbed, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand.
Jesse pulled the truck into a parking lot and turned it off, before leaning over to cup my face. He wiped the tears from my cheek with his thumb.
"Michael, look at me, I'm right here. I'm right here." He said softly, stroking my cheeks. I rested my forehead onto his shoulder and his hands moved to my back, rubbing it gently.
"Jess, I can't lose you again, you don't understand. I can't lose you again." I said, clinging to him.
"Shshsh, I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, it's okay." He cooed.
"But you want to stop." I said, shaking against him.
"No, baby, no. I'm just scared, okay, that's all."
"You need to trust me, Jesse. I'm going to take care of you. I've always taken care of you, haven't I? We need to run away, Jesse. We need to get out of here." I said, I was still talking in gasps, trying to reclaim my breath.
"I trust you, Mike. We'll run away, okay? We just need to rest first. Come." Jesse said, pulling away from me. I looked out the window, we were in a hotel parking lot. It was a sleazy hotel, cheap rooms for cheap people. It was only a few blocks from the house. Our father would definitely look for us here.
"No, Jess. This is too close to the house. Dad'll find us here." I said, grabbing his hand roughly as he moved for the door.
"No, Michael. We need to rest. We haven't slept. I trust you, now you need to trust me." His voice was firm, there was no room for debate. I swallowed and nodded.
We climbed out of the truck, and walked towards the hotel. I managed to stop crying, but I knew that I looked pretty terrible. I waited by the entrance while Jesse went to pay for our room.
"Hey, guess what Michael? I got room 23. That has to be a good sign, right?" Jesse said, waving the key at me. I sniffled and nodded my head. 23 is our favourite number.
I intertwined my fingers with his and followed him to the room. How was he keeping it all together?
Jesse unlocked the room and I followed him inside, shutting the door behind me.
"What happened to me Jesse?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. His eyebrows furrowed.
"I never used to be so weak." I said, sinking down onto the bed. I could feel my eyes filling once more, but I blinked the tears back. I couldn't cry again. Once I started I wouldn't be able to stop. There were so many questions that flooded my brain.
