Who's Watching Whom?

by J. Tomas

  Dylan slapped out in reflex, but his arm barely struck Logan’s leg. Fat tears filled his sad eyes as he pushed up off the floor. As he flounced out of the living room, each step thundering toward the staircase, he muttered, “You’re so dead.”

  Logan laughed. “Promises, promises. You’re going to miss me when I go to college.”

  “Not likely.” The words were almost lost as Dylan stormed up the stairs.

  Logan retrieved his cell phone, which vibrated itself down in between the cushions of the sofa. There were two new messages from Chad, sent less than a minute apart. The first read, Tell him go to bed. The second asked, Well? He in bed yet?

  Not yet, Logan texted. Getting there.

  With phone in hand, he followed his brother upstairs to make sure Dylan listened. As he neared the top of the steps, he could hear the water running in the bathroom sink, and the faint scrub of Dylan’s toothbrush over his teeth. But before he reached the top step, the bathroom door swung shut with a slam.

  The phone vibrated. Leaning against the newel post, Logan read Chad’s latest message. What about now?

  Logan grinned. His boyfriend was just as antsy about their being alone together as Logan was. Not yet. I’ll tell you when.

  * * * *

  “Can I stay up if I’m quiet?” Dylan asked as he climbed into his bed.

  Logan held the cover up so his brother could slip underneath. “Mom said nine o’clock.”

  “Mom lets me stay up,” Dylan tried.

  Logan knew that was a lie. Actually, Dylan usually went to bed an hour earlier, at eight, but now that school was out for the summer, he was already allowed to stay up a little later. If Logan’s mind hadn’t fast forwarded to a time when he and Chad could flirt shamelessly over the phone in the darkness of his own room, he might have been more lenient with his little brother. But he didn’t need Dylan cramping his style. Bad enough he couldn’t invite Chad over for the evening. If he wasn’t going to get what he wanted, neither would Dylan.

  As if he suspected as much, Dylan sighed as he flopped back against his pillow. “It’s not fair.”

  “Tell me about it,” Logan muttered. He dropped the covers and stood there a moment, looking down at the pout pulled tight across his little brother’s face. So what did he do now? Prompt Dylan to say his prayers? Kiss him goodnight?

  God, no. That was their mother’s job, not his. Instead, Logan kicked the frame of Dylan’s bed and stuck his hands into the back pockets of his jeans—the left hand palmed his cell phone where it nestled in wait. He noticed a battered Nintendo DS on the bedside table and suppressed a grin. “Tell you what—if you’re quiet…“

  Dylan’s eyes widened, eclipsing his face. “I will be, I promise!”

  “And you stay in here,” Logan added.

  Dylan’s mouth snapped shut but he held his breath, waiting.

  Logan nodded at the DS. “You can stay up a little and play a video game or something.” At Dylan’s joyous shout, Logan reiterated, “Quietly. And you have to stay in your room, got that?”

  With an eager nod, Dylan grabbed the DS and flipped it open. He clicked on the bedside lamp as the first tinny strains of music began to play. Logan recognized the Pokémon theme and shook his head. He’d never been that dedicated to anything at Dylan’s age. It was like nothing else existed for the kid.

  Who am I kidding? he thought, giving into the grin that wanted to play across his face. I’m just as crazy about Chad as the imp is about Pokémon. Which reminded him—he had a boyfriend to call.

  “Stay in bed,” Logan warned.

  Dylan nodded but otherwise ignored him. Logan cast one last look around the disheveled room, then clicked off the overhead light and pulled the door shut behind him as he left.

  He was halfway down the hall when his phone vibrated. Logan dug it out of his back pocket and flipped it open to read Chad’s latest message. Now?

  He’s down, Logan texted. I’ll call as soon as I’m in my room.

  But he didn’t get that far. Outside the door to his bedroom, the phone vibrated again. With one hand, Logan flipped it open to read the text as the other reached for the bedroom light. He flicked it on and read the message—I’m outside—and had to bite his lower lip to keep from squealing in glee. Logan would’ve sounded just like Dylan had when told he could stay up a little longer.

  Outside! Logan turned off his bedroom light and raced down the hall to the staircase. He took the steps three at a time, his long legs carrying him down to the foyer in seconds. Hitting the switch on the wall, he saw bright light flood the porch through the windows on the front door. His fingers scrambled to unlatch the door—first the chain, then the deadbolt, then the lock on the knob. Finally he pulled the door open and there, on the other side of the screen door, stood Chad.

  His hands were shoved deep into the front pockets of the shorts he wore. His white T-shirt seemed to glow in the night, and the way his dark, longish hair hung in front of his eyes made Logan’s fingers itch to brush it aside. Pressing against the screen, Logan drank in the sight of his sexy boyfriend and sighed. “Hey.”

  Chad closed the distance between them. The screen seemed ephemeral, as if one good tug could pull it down. This close, Logan caught a whiff of his boyfriend’s sporty cologne and noticed just how damp Chad’s lips looked in the overhead porch light. “Hey yourself,” Chad whispered.

  Logan felt his hands clench in frustration. “I can’t let you in.”

  With a shrug, Chad suggested, “Then why don’t you come out?”

  An excellent idea. Logan pushed open the screen and started to pull the front door shut when Chad stopped him. “Cut the light, will you? We’ll be eaten alive out here.”

  “Oh, right.” Not quite willing to take his gaze off Chad, Logan reached behind him and fumbled for the switch. The moment the overhead light cut out, Chad’s hand reached out to brush over Logan’s belly, which fluttered at the touch. Logan pulled the front door shut and stepped around the screen into Chad’s waiting embrace.

  The first kiss was tender, a brief reminder of what they’d shared before. The second stepped things up a notch—Logan caught a taste of tongue as Chad leaned into him. Their third kiss pushed Logan back against the screen door as Chad’s hands smoothed down Logan’s sides. His fingers flicked up the hem of Logan’s T-shirt and tickled over the smooth skin on Logan’s belly. Into Logan’s neck, Chad whispered, “I missed you.”

  “Dylan’s upstairs.” Logan cringed at his own stupidity. Way to spoil the mood.

  Chad didn’t seem to care—if anything, he moved closer. “He’s asleep though, right?”

  Logan nodded. “More or less.”

  In the ambient light from the streetlamp, Logan saw Chad’s eyes twinkle playfully. “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I can’t go anywhere,” Logan told him. “My mom said—“

  “We’ll stay here.” Taking his hand, Chad led Logan to the porch swing. It creaked as he sat down. With a gentle tug, he pulled Logan closer.

  Stepping into the space between Chad’s legs, Logan ran his hands up over Chad’s firm chest to his strong shoulders. He let Chad pull him closer still, and climbed onto the swing to sit astride his boyfriend’s lap. They faced each other, their bodies mere inches apart. The summer evening seemed to warm around them, the night alive with the same fervid desire buzzing through their veins.

  Logan’s hands smoothed around Chad’s shoulders to lace at the nape of his neck. He wiggled his hips a little, settling himself into a better position on Chad’s lap. The thickness at Chad’s crotch Logan could feel prodding through his jeans excited him. If his brother wasn’t inside all alone, if his mother didn’t expect him to be responsible…

  He leaned down, his hands cupping Chad’s chin, angling his boyfriend to him as he touched Chad’s lips with his. The boy tasted sinfully sweet. Logan licked into him, tentative at first, then hungry, insatiable. Chad’s arms hemmed Logan’s waist, his hands dipping into the back pockets of L
ogan’s jeans to knead his buttocks through the thin denim. Nothing existed but this moment, in Chad’s arms, breathing his kisses.

  Without warning, the porch light clicked on. In the living room window beside the swing, the curtains pulled back as Dylan’s face pressed against the screen. His boyish giggles erupted into the quiet night.

  Surprised, Logan pulled back from Chad and set the swing rocking. “Whoa,” Chad said, holding on tight to keep him from falling off the swing. “Watch it.”

  Logan felt his balance slipping and he leaned back at a dangerous angle. For one long, breathless second, he thought maybe he’d manage to stay seated, then the swing shifted and he slid off Chad’s lap. His legs unfolded as he sank toward the porch, but he couldn’t get his feet under him in time and he ended up landing hard on his butt. “Damn it the hell!” he hollered, glaring at his brother snickering in the open window. “Dylan!”

  In a singsong voice, Dylan called out, “Logan and Chad, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love—“

  “Then comes my foot in your ass,” Logan interrupted. He held a hand up to Chad, who helped him stand. “If you’re not back in bed by the time I get in that house, you are so dead.”

  “I’m telling Mom you said ass,” Dylan said. But when Logan started toward the door, his younger brother scrambled to hide. Even from outside, Logan could hear heavy footsteps thudding up the stairs as Dylan hurried back to his room.

  Sitting back down on the swing, Chad laughed. A delicious sound, it chased away Logan’s anger and drew a slow smile across his face. “What’s so funny?”

  Chad nudged Logan’s leg with the toe of his sneaker. “Go put him to bed.”

  “Again,” Logan pointed out.

  Chad grinned. “Lock the door this time, if you can. Just hurry back. I’m not through with you yet.”

  Logan hurried to the front door, his jeans chafing the sudden fullness filling his crotch. He’d tie Dylan to the damn bed if he had to, anything to have Chad all to himself for as long as he could.

  THE END

  ABOUT J. TOMAS

  J. Tomas is an author of gay YA romance who lives in Richmond, Virginia, with two very spoiled cats. She publishes adult gay fiction under a pseudonym. Her first novel, Without Sin, is now available in print and e-book formats. More information can be found online at j-tomas.net.

  ABOUT QUEERTEEN PRESS

  Queerteen Press is the young adult imprint of JMS Books LLC, a small press specializing in queer fiction, non-fiction, and poetry owned and operated by author J.M. Snyder. Visit us at queerteen-press.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!