What Now?
John woke early, as he always did. The first light of morning filtered softly through the curtains, casting faint shadows across the room. His eyes opened slowly, and he turned toward the bed beside him. Matthew was there, asleep, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. The peacefulness of his brother’s face stabbed at John’s heart with a mixture of affection and ache.
For a few minutes, John lay still, watching the sunlight play across Matthew’s features, the way the lines softened in dreams, how his eyelashes swept shadows on his cheeks. It was a fragile moment of connection, delicate and full of unspoken feelings.
He slipped quietly from the bed, careful not to disturb Matthew, and moved to his usual morning routine. Downstairs, the kitchen smelled of brewing coffee and frying eggs. John set the table and poured juice, lost in thought but comforted by the familiar tasks.
As Matthew joined him for breakfast, there was a new tension in the air. Matthew’s gaze was heavy and distant, his eyes barely meeting John’s. He nibbled at his food in silence, the light chatter of the room pressed down by what neither said. John watched him, trying to catch a spark of the brother he knew, but all he found was stillness.
Their parents arrived after a while to pick up some errands and left with quiet smiles and brief hugs, sensing without speaking the fragile state of the household. Once they were gone, the house felt emptier, as though the walls had grown thicker with silence.
For days after, John and Matthew barely spoke. They moved through the house like shadows, catching only occasional glances across the dining table, their conversations reduced to curt exchanges of necessity. The bond they once shared felt stretched thin, fragile as glass.
John fought the growing distance, but Matthew retreated further into himself. The space between them was palpable, a gulf neither knew how or if they could bridge.
One afternoon, after another meal filled with uncomfortable quiet, John’s frustration and sorrow boiled over. He pushed back his chair harder than necessary, standing abruptly. Without a plan, without second thought, he strode toward Matthew’s room.
The door was closed; he didn’t knock.
John burst inside.
Matthew looked up, startled, eyes wide and wary.
John’s voice broke, thick with emotion. “Matt, please... I’m so sorry for that night. For everything that came after. I—I never wanted to make you uncomfortable or mess things up between us. I swear, it won’t happen again.”
Tears spilled down John’s cheeks as he swallowed hard, his chest heaving with the weight of his apology.
Matthew said nothing. Not a word, no glance, no movement, just silence that filled the room with deafening emptiness.
John’s sobs quieted into a heavy breath. He wiped his eyes, nodded once, and turned to leave, the sting of rejection burning in his gut.
He shut the door behind him with a slam, the sound echoing like a release and a final barrier all at once.
John collapsed onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow, his breaths hitching deeper in the heavy quiet.
Minutes passed.
The room’s door creaked open softly.
Matthew stepped inside.
Matthew's voice was steady but gentle, breaking the silence that had grown thick between them. "John, I wasn't silent because I was mad at you about that night. I enjoyed it too much, and I didn't want it to affect our relationship." He paused, his gaze searching John's face for a reaction. "I didn't want to lose you as a brother."
“Do you want to… continue?” he asked carefully, as if testing the waters.
John blinked, heart pounding. The question hung between them, fragile and real.
He swallowed hard, searching Matthew's gaze for any trace of hesitation or hope. After a moment, a small, slow nod escaped him.
“Yes,” John whispered. “I want to.”
Matthew moved swiftly, closing the distance between them with a few quick strides. He kissed John on the lips, a kiss that started soft and tentative but quickly deepened into something more passionate and urgent. Their tongues met, exploring each other with a hunger that had been building for days.
They kissed for a while, the world outside fading away as they lost themselves in the moment. Matthew's hands roamed over John's body, eager and impatient. He hurriedly removed John's clothes, piece by piece, until John was left standing in just his underwear.
Matthew paused, "John, how do you have a vagina now?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and awe.
John looked down, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'll tell you later," he promised, his voice barely above a whisper.
Matthew only nodded. He dove in, his mouth finding John's vagina with a passion that had been building for over a year. He had been divorced and single for so long, and the taste of John was intoxicating. He licked and sucked, his fingers finding their way inside John, fingering him with a rhythm that matched the movements of his tongue.
John could only sit there and moan, his body responding to Matthew's touch in ways he hadn't thought possible. The pleasure built quickly, overwhelming him until he couldn't hold back any longer. He squirted and came at the same time, his body convulsing with the force of his orgasm.
Matthew looked up, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched John come down from his high. John took a few moments to catch his breath, his chest heaving with the effort. Then, with a newfound determination, he started to undress Matthew.
As he pulled down Matthew's pants, John's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't realized just how big Matthew was that night because of the darkness. He was the same length as David but thicker, and the sight of it made John's mouth water.
John proceeded to give Matthew a slow blowjob, his mouth and tongue exploring every inch of Matthew's cock. He took his time, savouring the taste and the feel of Matthew in his mouth. But Matthew grew impatient, his hips thrusting forward as he sought more.
"John," Matthew asked, his voice rough with desire, "Can I face fuck you?"
John looked up, his eyes meeting Matthew's with a spark of challenge. He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Be as rough as you can be," he said, his voice steady and sure.
Matthew didn't need any more encouragement. He grabbed John by the hair, pulling him closer as he thrust his cock deep into John's mouth. He fucked John's face with a roughness that was bordering on brutal, but John took it all, his moans vibrating around Matthew's cock.
Matthew held John's head in place, his fingers tangled in his hair as he used his mouth for his pleasure. The sound of John's wet mouth and the slapping of flesh against flesh filled the room, a symphony of raw, primal need.
After about five minutes, Matthew came with a roar, his cum shooting down John's throat. John swallowed it all, his eyes watering from the force of Matthew's thrusts. As Matthew pulled out, John looked up at him, a satisfied smile on his face.
The room was filled with the sound of their ragged breaths, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Matthew looked down at John, his eyes softening as he took in the sight of his brother.
After a long moment, John whispered softly, “What now?”
Matthew was quiet for a beat, his breath warm against John’s ear.
“We’ll see,” he said simply. “One day at a time.”
John nodded, the promise in those words enough to carry him through the day. They lay together in silence, holding onto the fragile peace, ready to face whatever the coming days might bring.
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