"What the hell are you guys doing?"

Justin and I broke apart and sat up straight on the couch. I looked at my sister. "We, uh—we were just watching TV."

Stephanie glanced suspiciously at the small, bulky television vomiting out the local news, then back to us.

"There was a bear sighting," I explained.

"You have thirteen channels of shit on the TV to choose from—and that's what you pick? That same bullshit happens every day."

"You only have thirteen channels?" Justin asked.

Stephanie ignored him. Her wet shoes squeaked cautiously across the cheap laminate flooring in the entryway. Water cascaded down her jacket. My heart felt like it was flat-lining in my chest. Still, she crept closer.

"What are you doing back already? I thought you had work," I asked.

"Are you kidding? I'm not fucking driving in this shit—not in that fucking car. I turned around after like five minutes."

"Why don't you get a better car?"

"Why don't you start taking your clothes off for a living?"

Justin's eyes ballooned out. He turned to me.

"She's, you know, an entertainer," I explained.

They were practically shooting out of his face.

I sighed. "Steph, I'm starting work tomorrow. Jackie got me that job."

"At Value Mart? Gross. Those people are disgusting."

"We are those people," I reminded her.

The bear was just a cub but the local residents were still up in arms. The lady being interviewed wouldn't even open her screen door all the way she was so terrified.

Stephanie set her hands on the back of the sofa. Even that had been a gift from Salvation Army. They were eager to deliver it too. Water dripped into my hair. "This is cute though, do you want some privacy?"

"Steph!" I whined. Cold water stung my eye.

"No, really, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"We weren't doing anything! We're not like, you know..."

Justin spoke up, "Actually, we kind of were."

Stephanie and I turned to him with very different expressions occupying our faces.

He explained, "Well, you see, I kind of hurt Alex in practice the other day so I was just rubbing his shoulders."

She smiled like someone who had just made a discovery paramount to curing cancer. "Oh, it's you! You're the cute boy from the other day! I didn't know you were dating my brother."

"We're not dating!" I insisted.

Justin studied her. "And I didn't know you were twins."

Stephanie swatted the back of his blonde head. It wasn't a major relief, but it still made me feel better even if he wasn't permanently disfigured. I grinned.

"We're a year apart," I said. "She's a senior and we're—"

"Yeah, I know what we are," Justin said dismissively. "But you still look like, I mean, can you blame me?"

"Are you saying I'm handsome?" Stephanie asked.

My grin grew wider.

Justin raised his arms defensively. "What? No, I just, well—maybe Alex is pretty? How about that? I mean, he is kind of cute, right?"

"Aw, you're sweet. Alex, I support you in being gay. You should keep him."

"I'm not gay!" Then, in a calmer tone, I added, "At least I don't think I am."

"So you weren't fooling around on our ugly sofa in those—" she cringed "—sweatpants?"

"No," Justin said. "Not even close. I can massage you too if you want. You look, um, tense?"

My sister hit him again. "Probably because I'm soaking wet and freezing."

"Go change then. I'm not going anywhere. You know where to find me." He then turned back to the TV. The bear had gotten into a pool.

An uncomfortable silence followed. That kind of thing would have been awkward in most situations, but it was especially unnerving for me to see my ornery sister struggle with a comeback. Even the weather outside got confused, the periodic thunderclaps and fat raindrops fell silent while she considered.

Stephanie eventually took a step back. "No, that's OK. It's very sweet of you to offer though. I'm going to go for a dip in the pool."

"Really?" he asked in surprise.

"No! Jesus, you poor, poor blonde boy. Life must be so hard for you. It's yoga time."

"Aw, come on Steph! Really?" I complained.

"What? You said you weren't doing anything. And I always do it at 5." She then turned and climbed up the stairs. Her shoes squeaked all the way to the top.

As soon as he heard her door close, Justin pounced. His mouth was back on me and his hand was back inside my pants, rubbing at my cotton underwear.

"Justin!" I whispered. "We can't—not now!"

More kisses. He dotted my face with them. I tried to turn away, I tried to shield myself by closing my legs. But he just kept licking my cheek and running his tongue across my lips. His hand kept rubbing me through my briefs. I started panting.

"Justin!" I shrieked.

"What's wrong? She's upstairs."

"You don't understand! She's coming back, she'll literally be back any minute!"

"Oh my God, what is wrong with you? You're hard and you know it. Quit pretending you don't want this!"

"What is wrong with me? Me? You want to jerk me off in front of my sister!"

He cocked his head. "Do you think she'd like it?"

"Are you kidding?"

"Yes, Jesus, calm down." His fingers tightened around it. "Can we go to your room then?"

"No."

"What about the bathroom? You have a bathroom in this dump, right?"

I shook my head. But even as I did, pre-cum dribbled out the tip and soiled my briefs.

Justin smirked. "Come on, it feels good, right?"

"Of course it does! Quit teasing me. We can't. End of story!"

"Then what about me?"

"What about you!"

His gaze shot down to his crotch where it looked like an arm was trying to claw its way out of his sweats. Before he could complain any further, Stephanie emerged from the staircase. She had her mat under one arm and was fiddling with her earbuds in the other, trying to make them play from her phone.

"Hello again," Justin said as she walked past us.

Stephanie ignored him. She rolled out her mat and got comfortable on her stomach.

"It's pointless," I said. "She can't hear you."

Justin smiled and then turned back to her. He practically shouted, "Nice yoga pants! Where did you get those? Value Mart?"

When she didn't stir, Justin sat back against the couch, a smug grin on his face.

Normally she did it in front of the couch, right where our feet were. But she found herself relegated to the small corner of the room facing the window. And typically she wasn't as dressed as she was. It was cold though, so instead of her usual shorts, she wore a very ugly, and very tight, pair of black yoga pants. Above that was something tantamount to a bra. At least they matched.

Stephanie rolled herself back and sat on her heels. She extended her arms forward.

"She does this every day?" Justin asked. "Do you ever join her?"

I shook my head.

"Why? It's good for you. I do it."

"You practice showing your butt to your brother every day?" I snapped.

"Well, I mostly stick to yoga. But yeah, that happens sometimes. I mean, I don't have a brother of course."

"You know, I really don't know anything about you. Do you even have a brother?"

"Nope. It's just me and my mom."

"Yeah, same here. Well, minus the mom and plus her." I pointed to Stephanie's backside.

"You're lucky," he said.

"She's my sister."

He patted my leg with his palm like he was trying to soothe a worried puppy. "And you're lucky to have her. She's cool."

"She's crazy," I muttered.

"Any more questions?"

I shook my head. "Well, actually, here's one: how'd you get so weird?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I just just tell the truth and that freaks people out."

"But you lied to Stephanie earlier, I heard you!"

"I said we weren't fooling around. We were actually making out, you know, and other stuff." He patted my leg again.

"She's going to see you!" I hissed.

To my surprise, Justin stopped. There wasn't any witty reply or hair-brained argument. He just casually pulled his hand away. That's when he leaned forward, grabbed the throw blanket off the coffee table, and spread it across us. He made sure it covered our legs and then pulled the other end up to our chins. I rolled my eyes.

Stephanie rose to her hands and knees and kicked one leg back. Justin's eyes followed.

"Does she do ballet?" he asked.

"What? I mean, yeah, she used to." I left it at that though. She was graceful, that was obvious. There was no need to explain.

Justin immediately began to explain, "Because she's got great form. See how she's able to hold her leg up like that? Not everyone can do that. She's really strong."

"You're an idiot."

"Hey, I bet you could do that too."

"Because I'm gay?"

He scooted in closer and took my hand in his. "Are you?"

"I don't know," I said quietly, looking down at the stitching on the quilt. There were a few frayed ends and some holes, but otherwise, it was still intact.

"Do you like girls?"

"I... I think so? No, yeah, I do."

"Then you're bi. Any more questions?"

Stephanie switched to her other leg.

I squeezed his hand to get his attention. "You can't just go around saying stuff like that. Just because you say it, it doesn't make it true."

Justin didn't even bother to hide his shameful glances at my sister. He just casually stared at her backside as she stretched. His hand moved though. He tiptoed his fingers across my lap and let them settle on my now limp flesh.

I glared at him so hard it hurt the muscles on my face. A loud thunderclap boomed in the distance. It jolted the TV and for a brief moment, the picture of the cuddly, little bear was fuzzy. He didn't notice though. His eyes were fixed on Stephanie's yoga pants.

She brought her leg down and arched her back.

"Hey, Justin?" I whispered.

Nothing. He didn't even blink.

I waved my hand in front of his face. "Knock it off! What's wrong with you?"

His eyes were like laser beams locked onto my sister's ass.

I finally dipped my arm under the blanket and grabbed his crotch. Another catastrophic explosion occurred outside. It sounded closer this time, almost like the lightning was right on top of us. Justin coughed.

"What was that for?" he complained.

"What was that—are you serious? You're hard! My sister is making you hard? Really? You're getting off on this?"

"I am not!" His knees snapped together but it did little good. There was no way he was going to hide that.

My hand seized it right through the cotton of his sweats. "Then what is this? Huh? Seriously, it's like a rock!"

He tried to squirm free. He brought his hands down to protect himself. There was a brief struggle. He grunted—I grunted.

"Quit it!" he shouted quietly.

I took a deep breath and huffed, "You weren't even this hard the other day—not even close. You're sick."

Another boom. The lights flickered.

Justin narrowed his eyes. "Oh my God, quit doing that," he complained.

"Doing what?"

He held his breath for a moment and looked out the window. The loud rumbling outside finally subsided and he said, "Are you like a wizard or something?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Justin tensed like the next bolt of energy would blast right through our roof. "OK! OK! You're right."

"I am?"

"Yeah, you're right, OK? And so what if I like your sister? She's hot."

"I am so not hearing this."

"Well, it's the truth and you asked." He let go and my hand found itself all alone, smothering the bulge in his pants. "Can I ask you something though?"

I didn't reply.

"Does she always spend this much time in this pose?"

"What pose?"

Stephanie was still on her hands and knees, arching her back. She had a small, modest butt but it filled out in her pants just fine. It was apparently more than fine. It was driving Justin crazy.

"Just quit looking at it—I mean at her," I said. "Can we talk about something else?"

Justin's quick acquiescence should have told me he wasn't through. But it was such a disarming and persuasive nod I couldn't help but feel reassured it was over—that he would drop the Stephanie topic. Then, of course, he reached over and slipped a hand into my underwear.

"You're hard too!" he whispered.

"Because you've been touching me for the last 20 minutes!"

Stephanie's shoulders dipped to the floor. She turned her face to the side. Her butt stayed right there though, propped up in the air. Justin's cock throbbed under his sweats.

"Are you serious?" I growled.

"It's because you're touching it!" he shot back, mimicking my voice.

My fingers squeezed down hard around it like I was trying to strangle it. I imagined it was his neck. The lights dimmed and then promptly returned to normal power. Justin winced again. And except for a quick cough, he didn't make a peep. Instead, he started fidgeting in his seat.

"What are you doing? Stop it!" I said.

Still nothing. His hips rocked side to side.

"Justin! It's just thunder, you don't have to be scared—wait! Justin!"

Then, it was in my palm. I had his cock in my hand for the first time—the full thing in the flesh. He didn't stop there though, he wriggled his sweats all the way down past his knees to the floor.

Several derisive comments queued up in the back of my throat but none of them found the light of day. The goddamned thing between his legs had me spellbound and speechless. My fingers wrapped around it, and its soft, warm surface glided along the palm of my hand. Justin's lips came apart and he slowly exhaled. His eyes suddenly went wide.

Stephanie slipped gracefully down onto her stomach. She stretched her arms forward and lifted her hands and feet into the air. The soft, delicate muscles of her back flared out as she strained. Justin had more than noticed.

His eyes darted between her pale skin and the ridiculously tight, black pants shrouding her butt. It was as if he was trying to see through them, to see if she was wearing anything underneath. Then, his hand came to life.

It startled me. I'd forgotten that it was there. His fist began to move. And for a while, it was perfectly quiet—it was so quiet I could hear Stephanie's music blasting from her broken earbuds all the way from the sofa.

As much as he irritated me—as much as I loathed him, I found my legs opening wider for him. I knew he probably had no idea I was even there but this was new to me. He was touching me. Someone—anyone—was finally touching me.

The song was Stephanie's favorite. It was a rock opera she told me, and she loved talking about it with Jackie's mom. She finally relaxed and her limbs settled on the floor. Her head turned our way but her eyes were closed.

I held my breath. It would have been impossible to make out the subtle movements under the blanket but it still terrified me. And it would be harder to explain the dark, wet mess on the front of my pants when it was all over. Pre-cum dribbled into Justin's fist as it sloshed noisily up and down.

"You're wet," he mumbled.

"Shut up—you are too!"

"You're going to cum, aren't you?"

"No! Hey! You're the one getting off on my sister—and I'm right here. I'm jerking you off and you're thinking about—about fucking her!"

His head slipped into the cushion. He quickly extricated himself and regained his focus. His eyes snapped back to Stephanie and continued devouring the sweaty sheen on her back and the black leggings that had folded into the crease of her ass. He did all of this as if I weren't even there—even as I stroked him.

I twisted my wrist over the head and a greasy, wet slime trickled out and slipped in between my fingers.

"Say it again," he muttered.

"What?"

"Say what you said about your sister."

"That you want to fuck her?"

More cum dribbled out into my palm. Lightning illuminated the small, cramped living room through the window. I jerked faster. Harder. "You're sick, you know that? You're seriously demented. You need help."

"It's true though. I want her. And you know what else I was thinking?"

"No! And I don't care."

Stephanie wiggled her legs. Her fucking pants were crawling up inside her ass. She brought a hand down and plucked them out, but the moment she moved, they got sucked right back up inside.

"Alex?" he asked.

"No! Whatever you're going to say—just no!"

"I want you to be there. I think it would be hot if you watched."

By some miracle of God, he noticed me. Justin actually noticed me. He saw that I was about to shout and brought a hand up to cover my mouth. Stephanie never heard my valiant attempt to defend her name. It was short-lived anyway.

Beneath the sheet, his hand was flying haphazardly over my shaft. His fist nearly covered it but he still was slipping and having difficulty keeping his grip. I caught myself moaning and shook my head.

Justin whispered, "Have you ever thought about doing anything with her?"

I shook my head harder—angrier.

"Come on, you guys share a room—do you share a bed too?"

Hot air blew from my nostrils into his palm. The image of the bear on the TV looked like it was frozen again.

Justin continued, "Does she always dress like this when she's at home?"

I was about to bite his finger when I paused. Actually, no. She didn't always dress like this. She usually wore less—much less. I shook my head, but it was softer this time. His fingers relaxed and I took a big breath through the gap.

"What does she wear to bed?" he asked.

"I... I don't know."

"Does she have pajamas?"

"No. She mostly wears, you know, her underwear."

His hand paused. He looked at me. "Really? Anything else?"

"I mean, sometimes she just kind of, I dunno, wears my underwear."

A thin, glossy film clouded his normally bright eyes, turning them dull. He blinked.

"She just says they're more comfortable is all—it's no big deal," I explained.

But it was too late. The fire in his eyes, even through the haze, was still burning. "I changed my mind," he said. "I want you both. I'm picturing you guys on your knees in only your underwear. Is it the...