“Yes. The roads are bad,” I reply.
“You don’t sound okay,” he observes.
“I said I’m fine,” I snap, immediately feeling bad. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just pissed at that prick for putting his hands on you when you clearly didn’t want him to. People can be so disgusting. Men, women, straight, queer…there are bad apples everywhere,” I ramble. The guy at the bar honestly didn’t do anything wrong. Stone didn’t tell him to stop. But someone’s got to take the blame for my misplaced anger, and it might as well be that guy.
“I’m okay, though, thanks to your, uh, quick thinking,” Stone says, addressing the elephant in the room.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I’m sure you didn’t want my hands on you either, but the devil you know, right?”
“Hmm,” he hums, turning to look back out the window.
“What’shmmmean?” I ask, pulling into his garage and putting the vehicle in park.
Stone sighs. “Nothing. Never mind.” I get out and follow him into the kitchen. “Good night, Han.”
The sadness in his voice is the only reason I do what I do next.
Catching his wrist, I pull him back toward me. He’s not steady on his feet, though, and crashes into me for the second time tonight. The kitchen lights are brighter than in the lounge, and I easily see his pupils dilate as his lips part.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
His hand is on my waist, fingers digging in as he wages war against himself. When his eyes flit to my mouth,and he makes no move to pull away from me, I give him one last chance.
“You can’t look at me like that, Stone.”
“Why not?” His question is spoken directly into my mouth because whether he’s realized it or not, he’s leaning into me.
“Because I’m going to do something about it, and there’s no coming back from this.”
He shrugs a shoulder like whatever is happening in this kitchen right now is no big deal.
“Maybe you can help me figure out what I like?”
“You can’t be serious!”
His brows pinch together, and I know I’ve hurt him. Despite our history, hurting Stone is not something that comes naturally to me. And shaming him even less so. I should push him away from me, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
God, this is so fucked.
“I just mean…we’re—” I try to backtrack, but he cuts me off.
“Don’t you dare say brothers.”
“WE ARE BROTHERS!” I yell, mostly trying to remindmyselfbefore this gets any more out of hand.
“So, what am I supposed to do?” he asks, the strain in his voice giving away his pain, and I’m unsure if it’s physical or emotional at this point.
“About what?”
Without hesitation, Stone grabs my hand, placing it over his crotch where his erection is impossibly hard. My fingers instantly squeeze, wanting to feel the weight of him in my hand, the shape of him, the size of him. His breathy exhale sounds like a sigh of relief, and I almost come on the spot.
“Why do I get like this foryouand no one else?” he practically sobs.
The thought slams into me with his words, and I blurt it out while still holding his cock. “I think you’re demisexual,” I suggest, assuming he’s familiar withthe term.
