Love on Pointe Omnibus

by Colette Davison

  "Thank you," he managed to mumble, before stuffing the slices of bread in the toaster.

  "So, err... I was going to apologise."

  "No need." Luc hunched his shoulders. All he could think about was Adam taking his clothes off.

  "Yes, there is. You were right. I shouldn't have dumped you like that. I was pissed off, but it was still a crap thing to do. So, I'm sorry."

  Why did Adam's voice have to sound so velvety and sincere? Luc wanted to accept his apology, all right, with a kiss. Or by ripping his stepbrother's clothes off to pay him back for undressing him.

  "Where are Mum and Dad?" he asked, his voice coming out in an odd squeak.

  "Shopping."

  Knowing they were alone made things worse. The toast popped, almost making him jump. He grabbed one of the slices and began to chew on it.

  "Don't you want butter or something?" Adam asked. "There's honey and peanut butter. There might even be some Marmite or Nutella somewhere."

  "I don't think my stomach could take anything with actual taste right now," Luc said, grimacing as the dry toast stuck to the back of his throat. "Not even Marmite."

  "I'm surprised your stomach can ever take Marmite," Adam said. "Revolting stuff."

  "You just have no taste."

  "No, you're the one with no taste. Or at least, no taste buds if you can stand that crap."

  They both laughed. It felt so good to be sharing a light conversation with Adam. For half a second, Luc actually dared to hope that they might be starting to put the past behind them. But even if they were, it didn't change the fact that he still kept getting turned on by his stepbrother. He had no clue what to do about it, except to carry around a bucket of ice cold water to chuck over himself every time his thoughts became inappropriate.

  They both fell silent. Adam went back to writing on his pad and Luc crunched his toast, eating it slowly in case it made him want to puke again.

  "I'm sorry, too," he said, once he'd finished the first slice. "I shouldn't have suggested that teaching wasn't good enough for you." Although it was what he believed; Adam was definitely wasting his talent.

  Adam shrugged.

  "What are you working on?"

  "Ideas for toddler classes, like you suggested."

  Luc allowed himself to smile. "How's it going?"

  "Good, I think. I'm basing lessons around fairy tales and kids' stories. The idea is to teach some simple steps and gestures, but to mostly encourage the kids to come up with movements for characters themselves. That way, they're exploring how their bodies move and how to put across character." He pursed his lips. "I'm not sure Dad will like it."

  "He probably won’t," Luc said. "Dad needs to warm up to the concept of offering lessons to kids under six, but don't take that as a reflection on your ideas."

  Adam flicked the notepad shut. "I'll run my ideas past him when he gets back. I'm going to go downstairs and dance for a bit."

  Luc couldn't put into coherent thoughts how much he wanted to follow Adam down to the cellar and watch him dance. It would be a terrible idea. He had clear memories of seeing Adam dance and the strong, fluid beauty of his body. Just thinking about it made desire shiver up and down his spine deliciously. The cellar wasn't a big enough space to hide his want for Adam. It had been turned into a studio when they'd both been dancing. He had quit when the bullying had started at school, whereas Adam had toughed it out. When they were younger, Adam had always been the braver of the two of them. He'd faced things head-on, whereas Luc had run away.

  "I should go do some work," he said.

  Adam nodded and headed towards the cellar door, taking the notepad with him.

  "Hey..." Luc began.

  Adam paused and looked back at him.

  "Mum and Dad have a lot of those permission slips in, so I thought I'd come to the studio and take some photos of the classes. Are there any that would be really good to see?"

  "Dad takes most of the senior classes, so I'd start there. You've got the timetable?"

  Luc nodded. "I want to get a good cross section of ages."

  "You've got the timetable," Adam repeated. "Visit as many classes as you can and see what you end up with."

  Luc had sort of hoped that Adam would invite him into his lessons. If he couldn't watch his brother dance, maybe it would be safe to watch him teach instead. Then again, Adam hadn't told him not to go into his lessons.

  "I'll do that," he said. "I'll come along tonight and try and get into every lesson for a few minutes."

  Adam's only response was to smile, before he opened the cellar door.

  "Adam..."

  Adam paused again, his shoulders hunching slightly.

  "I'm glad things are okay between us."

  Adam's brow crumpled, causing thoughtful lines to slash across his forehead. His grip tightened on the loose door handle, making it rattle slightly. "Okay?" He shook his head. "Things aren't okay between us, Luc."

  "But—"

  "If you think a couple of apologies and a conversation can make everything okay, then you're deluded." Still shaking his head, he stormed down the stairs, slamming the cellar door behind him.

  Luc clenched his fists. He knew he should walk away and leave Adam to work out his anger through dancing, but he'd had enough of being a coward. He threw the door open and stomped down the stairs after Adam.

  He found Adam sitting in the middle of the sprung floor their parents had installed, stretching out his muscles.

  "This has gone on long enough. How many times do I have to apologise to you?"

  Adam glared up at him. "I don't want your fucking apologies, Luc. I want to know why."

  "What?"

  Adam bounced up onto his feet and took a couple of steps closer to Luc. "Why did you start ignoring me? Why did you suddenly become best buddies with the bastards who had spent years bullying me? The very guys you'd defended me against before. All I ever wanted to know was why: why did I lose my big brother and my best friend? What did I do wrong to make you hate me so much?"

  Luc gaped at him, his chest clenching. "You didn't do anything wrong, Adam and I sure as hell didn't hate you."

  Adam snorted. "That's how it felt." He moved even closer, so he was right up in Luc's face, as he jabbed his finger hard against his own chest. "It's how I still feel."

  Luc wanted to take a step backwards, to put distance between them, but he knew that would only add fuel to Adam's beliefs. But standing so close to him was excruciating. He could feel Adam's warm breath on his face and it made his skin tingle. All he wanted to do was reach out and embrace him. Drag him close and prove to him that he didn't hate him; that he'd never hated him.

  "So tell me," Adam said, filling the silence. "Why?"

  Luc opened his mouth, but his throat closed up, trapping his words inside him. What could he say?

  "Tell me," Adam yelled.

  Somehow, Luc stood his ground. "You wouldn't understand."

  Adam's eyes widened. "Fuck you." He shoved Luc backwards.

  "You wouldn't understand," Luc repeated, turning away to head up the stairs. Following Adam down here had been a mistake.

  Adam grabbed his shoulder and wrenched him round. "So, what? You're going to run away like you always do?" He slammed Luc against the rough brick wall, his arm pressing against Luc's chest as he glared at him. "Don't run away."

  "What do you want me to tell you?" Luc demanded.

  "The truth." Adam was still shouting, but then he dipped his chin and inhaled. When he spoke again his voice was quietly fragile. "The truth."

  "You don't want to know the truth," Luc breathed. "Isn't it enough to know that I never hated you? That the reason I started being horrible to you was everything to do with me and nothing to do with you?"

  "No."

  Luc gritted his teeth and growled through them. He pushed forward, knocking Adam off balance so he fell onto the floor. He pressed his hands onto Adam's shoulder in an effort to pin him to the floor. He knew Adam was the stron
ger of the two of them, thanks to his dance training, so he braced himself for Adam to start fighting back.

  "I didn't hate you," he yelled. "Get that into your head. I. Did. Not. Hate. You."

  Adam pushed into Luc's shoulder, rolling him over until they were wrestling one another, like they had done as kids, except this time, they weren't messing about. They were both angry, both trying to get the other to give in to what they wanted. Luc needed Adam to drop the whole topic, but he knew his stepbrother wouldn't, not until he got the answers he was looking for.

  They became a mess of arms, legs and bodies. Pushing and pulling each other, one gaining dominance for a few seconds, before the other gained the upper hand. Luc's back was bashed against the sprung floor more times than he could count, making him wince every time. But worse than the pain, was the fact that tussling with his brother was turning him on. His dick was becoming hard and it was only a matter of time before they ended up in a position where Adam would notice.

  "You really want to know why?" he gasped. "Do you think you can actually handle the truth?" He was pretty sure Adam couldn't.

  "Yes," Adam snarled. "I want to know."

  Luc managed to pin Adam onto his back again. He held his crotch away from Adam, relieved when Adam stared up into his eyes, rather than looking down his body.

  "I was in love with you."

  Adam froze, his pupils shrinking. "What?" His voice was so quiet that Luc had struggled to hear it.

  "I was in love with you." Saying it didn't bring any relief to Luc, if anything, it made him angrier. "I started having wet dreams about you. I couldn't stand to be around you, because just the sight of you gave me a fucking hard-on."

  Adam's lips parted and then he pushed Luc backwards and scrabbled away, rushing to his feet. He pressed his hands against his head. "You were..." He shook his head, eyes still wide and disbelieving. "You're lying."

  "Look at me," Luc said. "Look at me!"

  Slowly, Adam turned his face.

  Luc gestured to the bulge in his jeans. "Does it look like I'm lying? I wanted you then and I still want you now. In case you hadn't noticed, you're fucking gorgeous."

  "We're brothers." Disgust filled Adam's voice, making Luc flinch away from him.

  "Stepbrothers," Luc reminded him. "We're not even related."

  Adam shook his head. "It doesn't matter. We were raised together, Luc. Our parents are married. You can't... Fuck." He wiped his hands over his face.

  "You wanted to know." The anger had dissipated from Luc's voice.

  Seeing Adam, so shocked and overwhelmed, made his heart ache. He wanted to embrace his stepbrother and hold him. He'd never wanted to hurt Adam, not when they were younger and definitely not now.

  "I didn't think... I never imagined... Fuck!" Adam turned and slammed his fist into the wall, crying out as his knuckles crunched against the bricks. "Fuck!"

  Luc took a step toward him and then stopped himself. He doubted Adam wanted him anywhere near him.

  "I can't..." Adam breathed. "We're brothers." He cradled his bruising hand against his chest.

  Both of them jerked their heads upwards, as footsteps reverberated above their heads.

  "Hello?" Their mum's voice called out. "Adam? Luc?"

  "We're downstairs, Mum," Luc called out, amazed by how calm his voice sounded, when inside his emotions were a jumbled mess.

  Adam's upper lip curled. "Do they know?" he whispered.

  "Of course not." He wouldn't have ever been able to come home if he'd thought for one second that their parents knew he was in love with Adam.

  Adam stared at the floor for a few seconds. "I can't do this, Luc. I can't be around you right now." He walked around Luc, maintaining distance between them. "I'm sorry." He ducked his head and then ran up the stairs.

  Luc stood still, doing nothing but concentrating on breathing in and out to calm himself.

  "Adam, what's wrong?" He heard their mum say.

  "Nothing. I'm going upstairs."

  Then he heard Adam's footsteps moving across the kitchen, into the hall. He wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or frustrated that Adam hadn't said anything. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do, or even if he could continue to stay in the house.

  He backed up until his ankles hit the bottom step, then he dropped down onto it, dropping his head into his hands. What had he done? Judging by the disgusted look on Adam’s face, any hope of reconciling with his stepbrother was gone. He felt like he was about to shatter into a million pieces. He needed Adam to come back down and tell him it was okay. He wasn’t even looking for reciprocation, just understanding. Anything would have been better than being left alone by the person who meant the most to him in the world. His chest shuddered and he let out a ragged breath. He was being selfish. Even though he was the one who had opened himself up, it wasn’t just about him. He'd just turned Adam's world upside down and he felt fucking terrible for doing so.

  Chapter Eight

  Adam

  Adam didn't move when his bedroom door opened and someone slipped inside. The landing outside his door was as dark as it was inside of his room. The only source of light came from a thin sliver of moonlight that slipped beneath the closed window blinds. There wasn't enough light to see who had entered. He heard the soft click of the door closing.

  "Who is it?" he whispered, as his heart started to thunder in his chest.

  "Sssshh."

  Adam sat up, squinting into the darkness in an attempt to discover the identity of his visitor. Whoever it was sat on the end of the bed. Their hand slipped beneath the quilt to stroke Adam's ankle. Soft skin brushed against his, making his leg hairs stand on end. His breathing quickened. His visitor turned back the quilt and joined Adam on the bed, so their bodies were pressed against each other. The hand inched up his leg, over his knee and across his thigh. He hissed in a breath as smooth lips pressed firmly against his. He let his visitor tease his lips apart and revelled in the sensation of their tongues exploring one another.

  He groaned against his visitor's mouth and whispered, "Who are you?"

  "Don't speak."

  It was Luc. Adam's heart stilled. Luc's hand trailed up and snuck beneath his boxers, stroking his cock.

  Adam woke, gasping for air. His dick was painfully hard. Normally, if he woke up with a hard-on, he'd grab some lube and jack himself off, but this time he couldn't bring himself to move, let alone touch himself. He'd been dreaming about Luc. His stepbrother. He flexed his fingers, allowing the fresh burst of pain to remind him how he'd hurt his hand. How could he be dreaming about Luc? About kissing him and being touched by him? He shuddered. In his dream, he'd been enjoying it, but he hadn't known who it was; not at first.

  He sat up and dragged his hands over his face. He was shaking and felt cold all over. His mouth was dry and his tongue felt heavy. It was disgusting. The thought of kissing his brother and being fondled by him was disgusting. And yet... he was sporting wood that suggested his subconscious mind felt completely different.

  He'd never thought of Luc in that way before. They were brothers. The idea of thinking about Luc on any other level repulsed him; didn't it? After that dream, he just didn't know anymore.

  He got out of bed and headed to the top floor bathroom, not caring that it was probably still the middle of the night. Normally, he was the only one using it, but currently there were traces of Luc everywhere. The extra toothbrush and the different brand of toothpaste. The black pot of shaving foam and the expensive looking safety razor, which made his supermarket brand disposable one look tatty. The aftershave that smelt slightly spicy. Christ, when had he started to notice what Luc's aftershave smelt like? Had his mind taken note and filed it away, deep within his subconscious?

  He stripped his boxers off and turned the shower on to the coldest setting. He gasped as he stepped under the jet of water. Ice-cold needles pounded against his skin, making his chest clench and his muscles tense up. He didn't turn the heat up, even when his teeth bega
n to chatter loudly, making his skull rattle. He bore the discomfort until his dick was soft and limp. Even then, he didn't turn the temperature up, he just turned the shower off and grabbed a towel to dry himself with.

  He was still shivering as he pulled his boxers back on and walked back to his bedroom. His gaze grazed over Luc's door. Was his brother sleeping, or had the shower woken him up? Was he asleep and dreaming of him? Adam's stomach churned. He shouldn't even be thinking such things. The cold shower was supposed to have driven those kinds of thoughts far out of his head.

  He headed back to bed, but every time he closed his eyes he saw Luc and his dark, piercing eyes bore into him as he'd confessed his feelings.

  "I wanted you then and I still want you now."

  Those words swam through Adam's mind, taunting him. How could his stepbrother desire him? Everything was so fucked up. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to face Luc again, knowing what he did. But in the morning, he'd have to go downstairs and have breakfast with him and their parents and pretend that everything was normal. But it wasn't. It wasn't normal for someone to want to be intimate with their own brother; even a stepbrother. It was wrong. Every fibre of his being told Adam it was wrong, but he still couldn't push the thoughts of Luc from his mind.

  He pressed his palms hard against his closed eyes, trying to force Luc's image away. But he couldn't. Luc was still there, staring at him.

  "I wanted you then and I still want you now."

  His voice continued playing in Adam's mind like a broken record and the memory of Luc's touch—even though it had only been a dream—seemed to have left a trail of desire winding up his leg. Fuck. He grabbed his pillow, held it tightly over his mouth and screamed.

  Sleep must have finally taken over, because the next time he opened his eyes, his room was saturated with light. Downstairs, he could hear music and the hum of chatter. The scent of coffee and toast wafted up towards him. He didn't leave the sanctuary of his room. Instead, he bunkered down under his quilt and stayed put, too consumed by his emotions to face anyone.