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You laid in bed beside Leon, your bodies stripped bare. Sweaty and vulnerable. There was an ache in your stomach, something rotten.
“What are you thinkin’ about?” He asked, rolling onto his stomach. You found it hard to look at him after what you’d done. You knew this wasn’t right. Nothing about the two of you was right, and it hadn’t been for a long time. You were in each other’s blood. Figuratively and literally. You’d have to first cut yourself to ever cut Leon out. The worst part was, you didn’t want to. You closed your eyes, fluttered them back open, and tilted your head to meet his gaze. Stark blue eyes met yours, warm like a summer day. Almost pure and innocent. Which couldn’t have been farther from reality. “I’m … not sure how to put it into words.” You replied, voice meek.
Leon smirked, propping himself up on his elbows. He inched himself closer, craving your presence as much as you did his. “Try me.” He was such a pest sometimes. Never knew when to let things go. You wanted to say he didn’t understand, he’d never know what it was like to be you. To be in your head. Yet you knew, (not so) deep down that he understood it better than anyone.
Nobody else would understand. Maybe .. but not the way Leon did. You frowned, looking away. It was hard to find the words, especially after such an intimate encounter. When you were in bed together, fingers intertwined and bodies slick with sweat. Breathless “I love you” and sickly sweet devotion. If it was written on paper, you’d underline sick. You’d mark the whole sentence out. Tear that sheet apart and never think about it again. If only things were that simple.
It wasn’t overnight. You’d always been close. Maybe trauma really did bring people together. Leon wasn’t the same once he got the chance to see your face again. He found refuge in you. Solace. As fucked as it was. You’d read all about pseudo-incest psychology. Some “psychological phenomena” of being attracted to a relative after being separated for so long. You closed your laptop that day and swore it was bullshit. But nothing made sense these days. You’d push Leon to start dating, find another woman to fill the empty place in his bed. A real lover to embrace him and comfort him after a nightmare. Except he never did.
“It’s not that easy, alright? I don’t want to talk about it.” You knew it came out a bit cruel, but you didn’t want to go there. It was pointless to have the conversation you both danced around. You looked at him, really looked at him. From the mole on his throat to the dimple in his chin, to those baby blues that always seemed to linger a bit too long. “Oh,” Leon sighed, reaching out to pull you close. You didn’t resist it, per usual. You let him roll onto his back and drape your body over his. He clung to you in a clumsy embrace, strong arms wrapped around your back. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He mumbled into your hair. “Didn’t mean to pry.”
You hummed in response. “I know.” A short answer to something you ought to talk out. But you always avoided it. As your head rested on Leon’s chest, warm and sticky with sweat, you wondered what your mother would think of this. What would she do if she saw her offspring in bed together? Clinging to each other like lovers, not siblings. It made you uncomfortable to imagine. It wasn’t like she was around to see it. Sometimes you’d ponder what led to this. Some sort of trauma bonding? Something tragic like that. Something hard to put a name on. To explain. Not that you wanted to. It felt nice in your brother’s arms. Leon was sweet and gentle. (when he wanted to be.) He kissed you on the lips and drew your baths. He did his best to take care of you, even if he struggled to take care of himself most days.
It was easier when you didn’t think about it. You felt his fingers rub your scalp, a silent comfort. He knew better than to keep pushing your buttons when you were upset. It was some messy cycle you were caught up in. You’d sleep with blonde men, lie when questioned about your dependence on Leon. But you’d always be drawn to him. Always tied to him. The same blood that ran through each other’s veins.
“How about a bath?” Leon broke the silence and kissed the top of your head. A bath, just like when you were younger. Simpler times, an innocent world full of scraped up knees and emotional neglect. “That sounds nice.” You nodded, cheek rubbing against his chest. “Atta girl.” He patted your bottom. You felt happy with Leon. Safe, loved, cherished. Wrong. If there was a God, he’d no doubt damn both of you to hell. Eternal suffering just for a few moments of comfort. You let him sit you up on the bed, press another kiss to your cheek. You leaned back, catching a glimpse of the man staring back at you.
Worth it. It was worth it. You’d take this to the grave. Even if you cried yourself sick over it. Cursed yourself for indulging in this nonsense .. it was all worth it at the end of the day. The pit in your stomach gave you the notion that that’s how it’d always be—and somehow, you were content with that. “Cmon. I hate seeing that look on your face.” Leon helped you to your feet, “Cheer up.”
When you didn’t immediately smile, he sighed. “Tell you what,” He began, leading you to the bathroom. “I’ll even let you use that bubble bath you love so much.”
You huffed, bare feet paddling on the cold floor as you followed. “Yeah. No way in hell am I touching that 3-in-1 shit you use.” You playfully pushed him out the way, stepping into the bathroom. “Never heard you complaining about it.” He pushed you back. Only you did complain. Not about his soap preferences, but about everything else. You tried to push those thoughts out your mind. It was better to enjoy these carefree moments. “Quit with that frown.” Leon threw an uneasy look at your way. “It makes me feel guilty. You’re always spoiling things with your melodrama.” There he went, the older brother you remembered him as.
“Am not.” You denied, watching him run the bath. There was something strangely domestic about what you did together. Carrying on like this was the most normal thing. To you it was. “Uhm, am too. Are.” He shook his head. “Waters gonna get cold. Unless you want to stand there and watch.” He teased, eyes gazing down your bare body. You were used to your bare bodies, but you always felt a bit warm each time you caught Leon staring.
“Rather not, I’m freezing.” You let him guide you to the bath, filled with hot water. Leon didn’t like your scalding temperature, but you preferred it. And heaven knows, he’d do anything to appease his little sister. You eased into the water, sitting across from the blonde. Only inches away, he trailed his fingers up your arm. It made your hair stand on end, especially when he made his way to your collarbones.
“You’re so beautiful.” Leon spoke up, hardly above a whisper. “I mean, I always thought you were.” He glanced away, feeling embarrassed. You found it cute how he flustered so easily. Even in his late 20’s, you had a way of melting him down into the baby-faced rookie he used to be. The same rookie that would’ve blushed like a virgin at the thought of this situation. Leon could recall the early days. How sweat would trickle down his face as he rubbed your panties over his aching cock. He’d never tell you that though. You didn’t need to know what a pervert your brother was. (if you didn’t already know.)
You allowed yourself to cherish his affections, even if you’d hate yourself in a few hours. When you were home alone, rethinking everything that had happened until this moment. You brought back to his earlier sentiment. Stop spoiling this with your melodrama!
“Thanks.” You mumbled, shifting in the water to move closer. “You know… It seems to come so easy for you.” You let more dramatics slip out. Of course it looked that way—which didn’t mean it was. Leon battled the same doubt and guilt that you did, he was just better at drowning it out. “What does?” He slid his hand up to the sides of your breasts, the water warm—his hands cold. “This.” You motioned between your bodies. “Us,” It hurt to say it. He sighed, placing his hands on either side of your face. “Listen to me. I don’t want you talking like that.”
You tried to turn your face away, but he held you still. It was always easier to avoid, wasn’t it? “We aren’t doing anything bad. Not really.” He said, rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks. “So would you drop it?” He sounded annoyed. Even after all these years, he was still your tormentor.
“Fine.” You left it at that. “Thank you.” He groaned, leaning back in the tub.
Leon looked weary, but you still found him handsome. You sighed and lathered up with that bubble bath he didn’t favor too much, (made him smell like a girl, he’d complain.) Watching him lean his head back. You focused on his adam’s apple, down his chest and to his stomach.
Real fit, he’d put on a bit of weight since reconnecting with you. Not that you minded. He’d joke that you were trying to fatten him up. He’d never admit how much he missed home cooked meals. You weren’t sure if he really liked your cooking, or if he was being nice. You thought back to how mean Leon could be. Maybe not…
You scooted closer, splashing water onto the floors. “Okay. Don’t fall asleep.” You tease, pressing a soft kiss to his chin. He scoffed, leaning his head back down to catch your kiss. “Not with you on my ass.” He cursed, yet smiled when returning your kiss. There it was again, sweet moments. Illicit affairs, or maybe clandestine meetings. Didn’t matter, you felt happy in fleeting moments, and that was enough for you. You didn’t mind spending time til the water cooled, just to cherish something that wasn’t akin to guilt.
“All better?” Leon sat up, awaiting your answer. “I guess.” You rinsed off, not looking at him. You felt weird again, when he acted like your brother. He was, you knew it. He just got on your nerves. “See? I like you alot better when you aren’t moping around.” He patted your cheek. “Now, let’s get out before I actually fall asleep.” He pinched your cheek and stood up, taking you with him.
You let Leon sit you on the closed toilet lid and dry your hair off and tend to you like a delicate flower. Even if he’d push and shove, or call you names, he still cared. It did make you feel better, you had to admit that much. Some domestic moments that should never be shared between siblings.
“Damn,” He stretched out, bare tummy flexing with the movement. You wondered how many other women had seen Leon like this. Another thing you tried not to think about. “You wore me out, baby sis.” He said, ruffling your hair with a towel. You wanted to make some remark about his past partners, but that didn’t matter now. The only girl in his bed was you. “Yeah, yeah.” You smacked him away.
“Go put a movie on or something, I’ll get dressed.” You stood up, catching a glimpse of your reflections. You hardly resembled Leon, not much. You were mistaken for boyfriend and girlfriend over brother and sister. He wouldn’t correct strangers, simply going along with it like the asshole he made himself out to be. He was good to you though. (in his own way.)
“Suit yourself.” He headed out the bathroom, sure to get half-dressed, bound to fall asleep in the first 10 minutes of some shitty horror flick. You quickly dressed, returning to your bedroom. A cozy sanctuary, one that should’ve been shared with a respectable husband. Not your own flesh and blood. You pushed that thought aside, jumping into bed beside Leon.
“Jesus, trying to throw me off?” He grumbled, tugging you closer to his side. “Maybe.” You smiled, nuzzling into his shoulder. The scent was comforting, made you feel good. That’s all mattered.
Something that made you feel good surely couldn’t be all bad. As you watched him scroll through the action section on tv, you knew that sentiment was a lie. A lie kept telling yourself. You let yourself indulge in the fantasy that everything was fine, that this was okay. In Leon’s arms, at least it felt that way—and you could live with that.