carnimirie: (Default)
rowan ★ like i've never seen the sky before ★ ([personal profile] carnimirie) wrote2007-01-24 02:52 pm

RussellxFletcher RP Log- Part 1 of ?

Title: Untitled Tringhamcest RP Log (1/?)
Authors: [ profile] terza_teabeef as Russell and [ profile] gandolfoogray as Fletcher
Rating: R/NC-17 later on
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Russell Tringham x Fletcher Tringham (yes.  Brothers.  "x" because they fuck.  Don't like?  Don't read.)
Summary: What happens when an innocent good night kiss accidentally becomes more, and reveals a secret that Fletcher had hoped his brother would never discover?
Disclaimer: Neither I or my partner own FMA.
Notes: Edited typos, spelling, and limited amount of grammar, but most of what you read is what we originally wrote.

Perfect skin, silken hair, lips that begged to be kissed... Russell was perfect in Fletcher's eyes. Tall and lithe, the younger sibling couldn't help but let his eyes watch his every movement as he tended to their garden. He knew he was staring-- Fletcher couldn't seem to help that impulse anymore. He loved watching the way his brother's muscles moved beneath his skin; longed to run his fingers over his chest.

He didn't know when he started to have these thoughts about his brother, but he knew he'd been having... peculiar, unbrotherly dreams about him for awhile now. It was wrong. They had a word for all of that: 'incest'. And there was nothing nice about that word. Still, so long as he didn't act on it, he ought to be fine, right?

So long as he didn't brush Russel's hair from his face as he longed to do, or press his lips to his brother's, or touch him there with fingers as the younger Tringham had so self-consciously done to himself during showers... then it couldn't hurt anyone right?

Realizing his eyes hadn't left Russell once, Fletcher fought the flush that threatened to overtake him and stepped further into the room, trying to keep hands steady under the tray he was carrying. "Russell, I brought you some water."

Fletcher tried to think of anything but the way Russell looked... somehow he didn't think that his big brother would be very happy if he looked down and saw his baby brother had any form of a... 'problem', or make him suspicious if Fletcher suddenly abandoned the tray for a shower. He felt dirty... maybe even like he was violating Russell in some way by picturing things like that.

That feeling was successful in killing any desires threatening to bubble up. "Take a break, Brother." Because speaking the word 'brother' would help make sure he didn't long for more than he ought to.

Russell liked the garden he and Fletcher kept in their backyard; it was nice to return to normal things after all that happened in Xenotime not too long ago, when he and Fletcher had been known as Edward and Alphonse Elric, when he had gone against the promise they had made to their father never to perform alchemy...Russell sighed as he stood and stretched for a moment. While he admitted that he was good at alchemy, this life appealed much more to him, just him and Fletcher living normal lives.

Of course, he hadn't always felt that way, in fact before he had meet the real Elric brothers, Russell had been blindly driven by his desire to find Nash Tringham and to finish his father's research. He had been foolish, obsessive, and Fletcher, who had tried to tell his brother many times that they were being deceitful and what they were doing was wrong...Russell closed his eyes and shook his head. He put his brother in danger, Russell saw that now, and he vowed never to do that to Fletcher again.

But now, living in a little cottage outside of Xenotime, just the two of them, their work, and their garden; life was perfect, Russell thought. Nothing could change that.

Just then Fletcher showed up with a glass of water, which Russell took gratefully. It was nice weather outside, quiet, sunny, and warm, but Russell had been weeding the garden for hours now and he was more than happy to obey his brother and take a break. The two of them walked inside and Russell collapsed in a chair by the cold fireplace.

"It's a nice day out, isn't it Fletcher?" he said as his brother joined him. Russell smiled at him, hoping to see it reciprocated. Despite their perfect life out here, from time to time he saw a distant, almost sad, look on his brother's face. What brought that look to his brother's face he could not say, only that it worried Russell to see him like that. Thankfully, it wasn't often.

Fletcher was more than glad to join Russell, even finding it in himself to return the smile despite any disturbances in his own thoughts. "Mhm, it really is, Russell." Taking a sip of his water before stretching out, giving a contented noise, the younger sibling looked over to his brother.

Everything was perfect. Russell was being the perfect big brother, taking such good care of him that it made Fletcher love him all the more, if that were possible. Stretching out along the sofa, the younger boy couldn't help but steal a few glances at the other. He still didn't entirely understand his own feelings, but he knew this couldn't just be some passing crush on his elder. Not that it made it anymore comforting, really. Fletcher wondered if it would be better for this to be just some crush. Then he'd move on to someone else, someone more attractive--but Fletcher already knew that there wasn't anyone more attractive, physically or mentally, than his big brother.

Before his expression could become too dreary, Fletcher flashed another warm look to Russel. "Mm, so how's the garden coming along? Do you think you'll be stopping for the day soon?"

"Mm, I think so," Russell said, sweeping the bangs out of his eyes and flashing a smile back at Fletcher. It was good to see his brother so happy. "I've been out there since morning, weeding the garden, and I'm almost done. So, what else would you like to do today?"

Russell leaned back against the sofa and fought the inner sigh that built up within him. He may have looked older than his age, but the fact was that he was still only fourteen years old, taking care of both himself and his twelve year old brother. There was so much that went into raising his brother while at the same time raising himself as well. It was a strange sort of paradox that sometimes made Russell long for an adult figure in his life, someone who would take the responsibilty off of his shoulders.

But Russell was the responsible one, so he stood up off the couch and stretched his arms over his head. "I have to go into Xenotime today and buy food for the next week. Are you alright by yourself or would you like to come with me, Fletcher?"

Fletcher gave a thoughtful pause, taking in his brother's beautiful form as it stretched, before pushing himself off the sofa. "Mm, I want to go with you, Russell!" Smiling and setting his glass aside, he went to the elder boy's side. "It would be boring around here all day by myself." Truth was, he just didn't like leaving Russell's side for that long.

He adored Russell's company, and that was probably pretty obvious. Fletcher doubted the other boy knew just how much his company was enjoyed though. "Besides, it's been a while since I've been with you to Xenotime." Another bright smile as suddenly the younger Tringham was looking forward to the rest of the day. Today just... felt like it was going to be a good day. Clapping his hands together, he glimpsed back up.

"Now, need any help in the garden, Brother?"

Russell nodded. "Yeah, I can understand that," he said. "And it is true that we haven't been into town for a while; perhaps we should visit Belsio while we're there?"

He glanced down at his brother, though these days he had less and less far to look; Fletcher was growing by the day it seemed. Russell brought a hand to Fletcher's head and toussled his hair playfully. Even as the days grew increasingly warmer as summer approached, his brother still insisted on wearing his hat, which amused Russell.

"I could use some help in the garden, to be honest. There's a particularly stubborn cluster of dandelions by the irises that will need to be pulled." Russell walked towards the back door, then paused and unbuttoned his shirt, which was damp with sweat. He then pulled the shirt off and draped it over the sofa. "That's better," he said, now only wearing his undershirt and trousers as he headed back outside.

"Mhm, maybe we should." Fletcher grinned, laughing a bit as his elder ruffled his hair. Of course that grin faltered when Russell began to take off his shirt. He almost pouted... how come everything Russell did had to attract his attention like that? And why did it always feel like his big brother chose to 'tease' him at the most inappropriate times?

Licking suddenly parched lips, Fletcher struggled to remember what had been said before just nodding, speaking somewhat absently. "Yeah... Let's get on that, okay, Brother?" Brother, brother, brother, brother. He shouldn't be looking at Russell like that, tracing out the contours of his elder's body, watch as muscles moved beneath skin-- Uh-oh. Flushing he went to give his elder a light push toward the door, keeping his head tucked down. "Come on, Russell! Let's hurry and finish so we can head into town!"

Fletcher didn't give his brother much time to finish that sentence as he pushed him out the door and looked around the garden, heading to the patch Russell had mentioned to get to work. Hopefully he could keep his eyes off him while his brother worked. God, he didn't need anything embarrassing to happen, now of all times. Stupid thoughts... stupid body.

Russell laughed as Fletcher eagerly pushed him outside. He followed Fletcher over to the flowers and the weeds that needed pulling and got down on his knees. Fletcher was next to him as he reached into the clumps of yellow flowers. They were weeds, Russell knew, but he hated to pull them as they actually were not ugly as most other weeds often were. However, if they weren't pulled, Russell knew, they would spread through the garden and waste the soil's nutrients, leaving nothing for the tulips, lilies, irises, and other flowers he and Fletcher had chosen for their garden.

As he pulled up the weeds, Russell came across a dandelion clock, which, unlike the flowers, had hundreds of seeds with white feathers fanning out all around. Carefully, he pulled it out of the ground and handed it to Fletcher. "Here, Fletch. If you make a wish and then manage to blow all these seeds off in one breath, your wish will come true. Have you ever heard of that before? Well, anyway, go ahead and make a wish," he said.

Fletcher glanced over at Russell, smiling brightly. "Really, Russell? Hmm..." Pausing thoughtfully, the boy took it, eyeing it. He knew that... it was probably silly, but Fletcher debated on what to wish for, and though he could have easily wished for these feelings to stop for his brother, he wished instead for Russel to love him as well, to return every feeling whole-heartedly, so they could live the rest of their lives together, needing only each other.

Sappy and silly, but taking a breath, Fletcher blew the seeds off. Smiling as he watched them drift in the air he gave a proud grin. "Mm, hope I get my wish!" And another fond look to Russell. He really... did. However wrong, however immoral, he just... couldn't help it. He loved his big brother. He was entirely in love with him. Even if things didn't work out, Fletcher convinced himself it was fine. He could be content with staying next to Russell... though it would probably kill him if his brother ever wanted a girlfriend or to marry.

For now though, Fletcher went back to weeding. "Mm, we'll be finished in no time, huh? Then we can go get washed up if you want."

"Sure thing, Fletcher, thanks for your help," Russell said, going back to his weeding. Glancing over now and then, Fletcher's face radiated a hopeful happiness that made Russell wonder what it was his brother had wished for. He felt tempted to ask, but instead said, "I hope your wish comes true too." By the expression on his brother's face, it seemed at least to have been a good wish that his brother hoped to come true- perhaps one day Russell would know what it was.

In the meantime, they were almost done with the weeding, only a few dandelions left. Then they were gone too and Russell stood and yawned. He wiped his hand across his slightly damp forehead. "Well, I'm glad that's done," he said, returning back inside and heading toward the bathroom, picking up his shirt on the way in. "Now for a quick shower and we can go to Xenotime." Russell stopped and turned around, smiling softly at his brother. "Thanks for all your help, Fletcher."

I hope it does, too, Russell.. When they were finished with the weeds, Fletcher stood up, stretched, and followed his elder inside. He nodded when Russell began toward the bathroom, offering a smile. "Mm, all right. I'm going to get washed up a bit in the sink. I'll wait for you by the door!"

Silly as that wish had been, Fletcher felt... strangeful hopeful that maybe it would come true. It was childish, probably, but he couldn't bring himself to care just yet. Washing up in the sink, Fletcher was soon standing by the door, slipping his jacket on since he figured Russell would be along any minute.

Fletcher was waiting by the door when Russell emerged from his bedroom, a towel draped over his damp hair. "I'll be ready in a minute," he told him, then vigorously rubbed his hair dry. He dropped the towel in the hamper in the closet, then grabbed his coat and shrugged it on. There was a mirror on the inside of the door; Russell adjusted his hair, combing his bangs in front of his face, as though pulling down the curtains to a window. The hair was protection of a sort, protecting Russell from the rest of the world, he felt. Not that Xenotime was a bad place to be parentless; it was much better than other parts of the country, for sure. But the fact of the matter was, Russell was only fourteen years old and living all on his own.

Russell turned around and saw Fletcher still waiting patiently by the door. His brother had been watching him, probably impatient to get going, though he started when Russell looked over at him suddenly. Their eyes met and inwardly, Russell smiled. Well, he wasn't completely alone, he thought, closing the closet door and walking towards the front door. After all, he had Fletcher, and that wouldn't change, at least not for a long time, he thought. Russell patted Fletcher's head, then opened the door and stepped outside. "Let's go, Fletcher."

Fletcher smiled at his elder and nodded. "Mm, yeah, let's go!" Slipping his hands into his pockets, mostly to resist the urge to take Russell's hand in his own, the younger boy followed him out, gazing around and taking in the country as they made their way into town. "It's a nice day out..."

Fletcher tried to keep his eyes from drifting to Russell too very much, not wanting to concentrate too much on how handsome he looked when the sun hit him just right, or how much he wanted to run his fingers through the other's hair, press it away from his face so he could see both of those beautiful eyes looking at him... Why couldn't he stopped these thoughts?! Pouting a bit, Fletcher's gaze found the road again. He was determined not to bring it back up until either the thoughts stopped or they were in town and in the grocery store.

Fletcher was awfully quiet on their walk into town, but Russell didn't mind. He imagined his brother was merely enjoying the fresh air, as was Russell. Spring was here, and it was no more beautiful than here in Xenotime. Russell had always loved nature and so he enjoyed the walk to town in silence.

When they reached the grocery store in town, they still got a few stares and odd looks. Not all were hostile, per say, but they had tricked the townspeople of Xenotime into believing in a pair of false Elric brothers who had promised to help the town prosper. And despite not having the Philosopher's Stone, the town was getting back on its feet, as it were. Still, there was some resentment towards the Tringham brothers, even now months later.

"Good afternoon," Russell greeted the shop owner as they entered. He at least would try to be friendly, for Fletcher's sake. He knew how his brother hated conflict and unnecessary confrontations.

Fletcher pouted, shifting slightly at the frosty gazes fixing on them. He... didn't like those, no. He felt uncomfortable with the resentment that still lingered for them, but it was understandable. With Russell trying to be friendly though, Fletcher felt a bit more comfortable as he moved through the aisles, helping his big brother pluck things from the shelves. He could almost forget about the glares and distasteful looks they got from certain shoppers.

Grocery shopping was never very 'fun', but even the most mundane acts were enjoyable with Russell. Fletcher stayed close, several times wishing to reach out and take his elder's hand, but refrained. He was a bit too old for that now... It would look weird and he doubted they needed any more attention drawn to themselves.

By the time they had finished what they needed to do in town and headed home, Fletcher's mood had visibly picked up, despite all the glares they got. He talked more on the way back, about their garden or anything else that came to mind and kept his thoughts from straying to anything... innappropriate. By the time dinner had been had and night had come around, signaling it was time for sleep, Fletcher was practically beaming.

Today had been great, after all. After a shower, changing into his pajamas, the younger Tringham went to say good night to Russell, who he assumed was still sitting in the living room. "Mm, Russell?" he called out, peeking in to see if he was on the couch or not.

Overall, the day had been pleasent: he got to spend time with Fletcher, which was always nice, and then when they had stopped by to see Belsio, he offered them plenty more fruit- lemons mostly- than they could ever hope to eat. They had discussed the garden in the back of the Tringhams' house, the flowers that were blooming already and what would also look nice in their lawn. Yes, overall, a very good day.

Russell glanced up from the book he was reading when he heard his name. Fletcher was standing in the doorway, already in his pajamas and ready for bed, it seemed. "Hey Fletcher, time for bed?" he asked.

Fletcher settled against the doorframe, just watching his brother for a moment before giving a nod when he spoke again. "Mhm. I'm getting sleepy..." Stretching out with a tiny yawn, Fletcher moved into the living room and to Russel's side, resting his chin on the older boy's shoulder as he peered down at what he was reading briefly.

"You should come to bed soon, too, Russell. We have more work to do in the garden tomorrow, you could use the rest." A brief pause before Fletcher turned his head, intending on giving Russell a brief peck on the cheek good-night-- the only real kiss he could get away with right now--before he shuffled off to bed for what would hopefully be pleasant dreams of his brother.

"I suppose you're right, Fletcher," Russell said, turning his head to look up at his brother. What he hadn't realized was that just as he turned his head his brother had been leaning forward to kiss him goodnight. Instead of getting Russell's cheek as had been intended, Fletcher's kiss fell on his brother's lips.

Russell froze when they kissed. He was trapped by the chair, unable to pull away from Fletcher and this...little accident. It was, after all, just an accident, nothing to get worried about, Russell reassured himself.

Only...only Fletcher wasn't moving away.

Fletcher's eyes widened as his lips missed their intended target only to wind up somewhere... infinitely more thrilling. A low noise escaped his throat, but the younger Tringham was able to convince himself away. This was... just as he imagined. Russell's lips were so soft and his brother smelled so nice, just like their garden.

But just as he was pressing in deeper to the contact, reality came crashing in, sickeningly twisting his stomach. Squeaking again in surprise, Fletcher pulled away from the kiss, wide eyed. Oh, God, Russell would know - would know - that he enjoyed it, had wanted to do it. That his baby brother was sick and disgusting...

"B-Brother!" He breathed, eyes still wide as eyes shamefully fell to the floor. "I'm so sorry, Russell!"

What else was there to say?

Russell couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it, Because not only had Fletcher not flinched at the kiss, he'd...god, no, had tried to deepen it, pressed closer before jumping back with surprise. His apology as he did so was even more prove that...that...but, no...

There was no way. No way in heaven or in hell that Fletcher...that he...loved him...Russell valiantly managed to control his instinctive look of disgust at the mere idea of incest, of him and Fletcher, that.

The way Fletcher stared at the floor, as though willing it to swallow him whole only confirmed it in Russell's mind. He really did feel like that...gross. Incest was wrong, immoral, disgusting, Russell's racing mind reminded him. And if Fletcher felt more-than-brotherly love towards him, that made Fletcher disgusting...

No, Fletcher was...still Fletcher. Fletcher was his brother, his companion, his friend. Fletcher was all he had, the only family he had left. Russell decided that he couldn't let something like this tear that apart, and Russell gave him an out.

"Sorry for what, Fletcher?" he asked. Nothing Russell chanted in his head. Just tell me that it's nothing, and then we can forget all about this and get back to our lives...

Fletcher sniffed, bringing up a hand to wipe at the tears forming and slipping down his cheeks. Russell was going to hate him now, wasn't he? And he was so tempted to say 'Nothing', so they could pretend to go back to normal, but that couldn't happen, could it? No, because there would always be the memory of that kiss that his brother wouldn't be able to forget and that made the younger sibling long for more.

"For what I did! I'm so, so sorry! I know... that I'm disgusting!" Fletcher only cried harder then. He was, so awful and disgusting. What a wretched younger sibling. "E-Even my wish today- was for this! Please don't hate me, Brother!"

His throat was constricting and his heart was pounding so fiercely that that was all he could hear in his ears. Fletcher had to get away before Russell got angry, started screaming and calling him exactly what he deserved. Pushed him out on the street. Spinning on his feet, Fletcher ran off to his bedroom where he locked the door and buried under the blankets. Sleep wouldn't come, he was trembling too much... too angry and disappointed in himself.

He'd ruined everything...

Russell could not move for what seemed forever, too much in shock over this. Over...what Fletcher felt, what Fletcher feared, and the impossible decision he had left Russell to make. On the one hand he could throw Fletcher from their home, claiming he didn't need his brother's disgusting desires and that until he found a way to get over them, he would be exiled, cut off, forsaken. On the other hand, this was their home, and for Russell, home was where the heart was, and he did love Fletcher, and if Fletcher loved him more, what could he do about that? As long long as Fletcher didn't force it on him, Russell supposed it...was okay...

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. What was he thinking? Fletcher had clearly kept this to himself for awhile, and what kind of brother would Russell be to ask him to ignore his heart? God, what to do, Russell wondered, his eyes closed in frustration. Ever since their work with the red water, Russell went out of his way to be the good big brother Edward was, the kind of brother up until that time he had failed to be. What, then, would a "good" big brother do in this situation? He tried to imagine what Ed would do if Al confessed to loving him in a more than brotherly way. Would Ed scorn him, abandon him? If not, would he pretend the feelings weren't there and cause Alphonse continued hurt? Or would he...

Russell stood from his chair and made his way down the hall to Fletcher's bedroom, knocking softly on the door, then trying the knob, which was locked. Sighing, Russell retrieved the key to his brother's room from a box in the closet in the hall. He felt a little like he was intruding on Fletcher's privacy, but the issue at hand needed to be dealt with immediately.

The room was dark, though through the open window a full moon poured its silver light into the room and across the bed, where Fletcher lay huddled under the covers, his face to the wall. Faintly, Russell thought he could make out the sound of forlorn sobbing, muffled by the blankets. He quietly made his way across the room and sat down on the bed beside his brother, then reached out a hand and placed it on a quivering shoulder. "Fletcher, we need to talk," Russell said. "I need to know how long you've this. How long you've...loved me?" And, swallowing, he added the first of many lies to come. "I need to know, because...

"...I think I know how you feel."

Fletcher froze when the door opened, fully prepared for Russell to throw him out, to call him every name he deserved to be. But... then his big brother did something... entirely unexpected. When a hand grasped his shoulder lightly and said-- No, that was too good to be true. Russell couldn't possible love him in this same, sinful, way, could he?

Pushing himself up slowly, sniffing back tears, he chanced a hopeful look to Russell. "W-What? Do you... do you mean that?" His voice sounded weak, almost timid. What if he took it back? Tossed him out onto the streets? Looking down tiredly, Fletcher clutched the blankets in his hands, trying to think back that far. "Before... before we even met the Elrics, I think," he finally confessed.

"What do you mean... you know how I feel, Russell?" His tone held the slightest bit of hope. Maybe his wish had come true, after all...?

Russell almost could not say it, the words that would dry Fletcher's tears and cause him to smile again. But it was for the sake of that smile that he did. "I...I'm not quite sure, to be honest," he admitted. "However, there is a chance...I might...lo-feel that way too."

Russell turned his face away; even through the dark, he didn't want Fletcher to see the lie in his eyes, the hidden horror at what he was admitting to. "I...was admittedly surprised when you confessed your feelings tonight. I couldn't believe that you possibly could...feel like that about me." That's right, he told himself. Take on all the blame and guilt that Fletcher must be feeling; cast it on himself. Looking up, Russell reached a hand up to wipe away Fletcher's tears.

"I was thinking...hoping that we could go slow? Until I understand all that I am feeling." Fletcher's face was filled with hope at his words, and Russell couldn't stand seeing that, knew it made him happy, yet knowing that he was deceiving his little brother to feel that way. So Russell pulled Fletcher into a hug so he wouldn't have to see that anymore. "Perhaps...would it be all right if...I stayed here, with you, tonight?" Russell whispered into Fletcher's ear, trying to imagine that it was someone else's ear, someone else's bed...

Fletcher's face brightened at the confession. He was getting everything he'd ever wanted! Oh, it was such a wonderful feeling... and when Russell scooped him up, spoke into his ear, the younger Tringham nodded, letting out a relieved breath. "Yes, Brother. Oh, of course! I want you to stay..." Sighing, he nuzzled warmly into his brother, eyes drifiting shut as arms encircled him.

"Mnn, love you so much."

How did he get so lucky? And he didn't mind taking things slow at all... so long as his beloved big brother was giving him this chance, professed to feeling the same. Almost purring in contentment, Fletcher let his eyes drift shut, tangling with the elder of the two. "Mm... I'm so happy."

And right in that moment, tangled in Russell's arms, Fletcher was. Nothing could be better than this.


Two weeks had passed since that wonderful day. Two brilliant, wonderful weeks. Fletcher had never thought it would be so wonderful, to have these desires accepted by Russell, returned. They hadn't done much in the way of touching, but so long as they were together, that Fletcher knew his big brother was his and didn't have eyes for others they passed on the streets... then it was fine.

But he was a growing, twelve year old boy... who got to curl up next to his object of affection more often than not. It was only a matter of time until those showers where he shyly touched himself, tucked away from Russell, were simply... not quite enough to keep his thoughts from wandering. Especially in sleep. 

Fletcher rolled to his back, groaning, face flushed and skin already slightly damped as he arched beneath the imaginary hands of his big brother.  "Mm, Russell," he practically purred, shuddering. He could almost feel those lips against his own, against his neck and chest, hands trailing ever downwards, coaxing such brilliant sensations out of him. "B-Brother!" he moaned, breath picking up. It was obvious, with one look at how the young Tringham was squirming in his sleep, sporting an obvious arousal, and listening to the coos and moans he made, just what his dream consisted of.

For the past two weeks, Russell had been forced to play pretend, because he really hadn't thought this through, because he was trying to atone for the past, because...

Well, hell, he just hated to see Fletcher look sad. So for the past two weeks, he held Fletcher's hand when they walked through town, though he convinced himself it was only as brothers and that Fletcher...just didn't want to get lost. Which, of course, was the almost truth; rather, Fletcher did not want to lose him. But Russell pretended that wasn't the case. Just as Russell pretended every night as they cuddled together in Fletcher's bed that there was a storm outside and that Fletcher was scared and that was all. But the only storm was the one in Russell's heart.

Thankfully, Fletcher had not asked for a kiss yet, respecting that his brother wanted to "take things slow" which really meant do things that he could twist to be innocent, that he could convince himself was not wrong. He feared what would happen when Fletcher wanted more, demanded that Russell know what his feelings were...because that would be the day he would have to break his little brother's heart.

Though by the sounds Fletcher was making as Russell woke up in the middle of the night, that day was approaching sooner than he could have liked. His brother lay beside him in bed and he was...moaning, arching his back as though under the beloved touch of imaginary hands. Russell sat up in bed and watched with a mixture of fascination and embarrassment, until his name fell from his brother's lips, an elongated cry of pleasure and love and passion. He blushed, his eyes wide in horror. Fletcher was dreaming about him...and not only that, he was dreaming about with him! What was even worse was that Russell's half awake mind was slightly turned on by Fletcher's flushed face, his soft moaning, and how obviously aroused his dream made him. Russell cursed his own half-erection, cursed hormones, and cursed God most of all, for making Fletcher this way. Didn't his brother deserve to be normal? he silently begged.

And was Russell, in his little brother's bed, watching him ride the waves of an erotic incestuous dream, encouraging his abnormality. He shook his head. If Fletcher were to be normal, deserved that much, then what was he doing here? No, Russell realized, this had to stop, he had to stop playing pretend. He had to grow up, and so did Fletcher.

Russell slipped out of the bed just as Fletcher cried out for him. "B-brother!" Russell ignored him as he stepped out of the room and into the hallway, and back to his own cold, safe bed.

Fletcher woke to an empty bed that morning, but he didn't seem to think it suspicious. Russell always woke earlier. Stretching himself and smiling at the memory of his dream, the younger Tringham rolled out of bed and got into the shower. It had been two weeks. Surely his brother was ready for a kiss, right? Fletcher didn't think he could wait anymore to taste those lips. Just the thought of what they might feel or taste like sent a tingle down his spine.

He decided then that he'd ask Russel for a kiss. Just a simple kiss. As soon as he could. Once he was freshened up, Fletcher went into the kitchen for breakfast, entering with a cheery "Good-morning, Russell!" Today was going to be perfect.

Fletcher, after all, had no reason to suspect his elder to be lying. Why would Russell lie about loving him, after all?

When Fletcher walked into the kitchen with an extra bounce in his step, cheerfully greeting Russell with a grin, Russell couldn't help thinking that his brother was unusually happy this morning. Rather, unusual compared to Fletcher from two weeks ago, but now that he believed Russell to love him, this happy Fletcher was the norm. Though Russell couldn't help wonder if last night's dream had anything to do with this morning's cheerfulness...Russell bowed his blushing head and closed his eyes. He would not let himself think about that...about what his brother dreamed about...

Composing his flushing face, Russell picked up two warm plates of food and placed them on the table, where he joined Fletcher. Today would be normal, just another string of little white lies to be told, and nothing would change, and Fletcher would continue to smile, while Russell died a little inside.

"Good morning, Fletcher," he said. "What would you like to do today?"

Fletcher flashed a smile to the elder, shrugging. "Mm, I'm not sure. What do you want to do today, Russell? We probably need to tend to the garden a bit, huh?"

The younger Tringham was... very happy. The happiest he could recall ever being. He had his big brother, in every way. It might be 'wrong' in the eyes of others, to feel that way... but that didn't matter when his brother accepted it, wanted it. And soon, they'd have their first kiss-- Russell must be yearning for it too, right? Sighing contentedly, he continued to pick at his breakfast. "Mm, hey? Why don't we just stay around the house today? We can just... relax, okay?"

And maybe tonight, when they were cozy on the couch, maybe with a fire going, he could finally ask his elder for that kiss. Fletcher was willing to wait on the rest, but he couldn't keep denying that one want.

Gardening. Well, that sounded safe enough. And it did need weeding...Russell nodded. "You're right, we do need to take care of the garden and today looks like it would be the perfect day for that." Staying in the house, all alone with Fletcher, on the other public, his brother couldn't try anything overtly non-brotherly, but in the comfort and safety of their own home, who knew? After all, it had been two weeks, and if last night was anything to go by, Fletcher clearly wanted more out of this relationship...but Russell frowned slightly at the thought. He would cross that bridge when he came to it.

"Sure, Fletcher, whatever you like. Relaxation sounds like a good idea."

Fletcher finished his breakfast soon enough, unable to help but steal a few glances at his sibling almost longingly. He must be... seriously messed up, if the sight of lips parting to take in food made him want to whine and ask his brother to give him that kiss now. But that could come later tonight, when they were both relaxed. He couldn't wait. To finally feel those lips against his and taste Russell would be amazing; nearly drove him insane with the desire to just get on with it.

Most of the day they spent outside in the garden, sometimes weeding, but mostly just lying out in the sun and relaxing, a gentle breeze blowing that countered the otherwise merciless sun overhead. And Russell did a lot of thinking about Fletcher. Now, Fletcher was in love with him, he knew that, and he would do almost anything to make Fletcher happy. And if believing that Russell returned his feelings made him happy- as the past two weeks proved it did- then Russell would pretend for as much as he could.

Which meant...which meant if Fletcher wanted a kiss, which it was inevitable he would, then Russell would kiss him. Russell would kiss him, or die trying, even if something inside him cowered at the thought. Anything for Fletcher...

Though Russell never asked why he felt this way; he just knew that it was his responsibility to take care of them both, in the only way he knew how.

That evening, after a dinner as relaxing as the rest of the day, Russell sank lazily into the cusions on the couch, closing his eyes and inviting a light sleep to come over him. It was interrupted, however, by a warm body curling up next to him on the couch, a soft head resting on his shoulder.

Fletcher practically purred as he curled himself up on the couch next to his brother. The day had been... just so perfect. Everyday had been since that accidental kiss. If it was in his nature, maybe the younger boy would have been suspicious of this... of this working out too easily, but he preferred the optimistic view. Laughing softly to himself, the younger boy tipped his head up to gaze at Russell who... looked so handsome, it was almost breathtaking.

"Hey, Brother...?" He began, shyly. "You know when you had me make a wish that wish a couple weeks ago? I... didn't really believe it would come true, but it did. I've been so happy, too. I was ready for you- for you to hate me." A sheepish look. He was sorry now, for ever thinking his own sibling could hate or be disgusted with him.

"The past weeks have been like a dream. I- I've been so happy, Russell, but I was wondering if..." Fletcher couldn't help the way his cheeks burned bright red as he gave a shy look upward, locking on Russell's eyes. He didn't know if he had the courage to ask what he wanted or not, but Fletcher was trying... trying to be brave. Adjusting himself so that he was just a bit nearer, face closer so it would be easier for his sibling to close the distance. "You... if you'd kiss me? I really want to, Russell... and we're... together, right? Don't you want to kiss me?" Cheeks flushed deeper when his voice squeaked on his question.

Fletcher was nervous, so very nervous... though for what reason, he couldn't tell. Russell wanted this too, right?

Fletcher was...admittedly cute with a blush covering his cheeks. But the fact that Fletcher thought Russell could hate him made him frown, and his heart ache a little. While, yes, it wasn't natural for Fletcher to feel the way he did, Russell would never hate Fletcher for those feelings. He opened his eyes and parted his lips, about to reassure Fletcher that he would never hate him, no matter how sick and twisted his yearning for Russell became, when Fletcher plunged on and asked...asked for...

...a kiss...

Russell stared down at his brother for a moment, unsure what to do. Would he really give his first kiss away to his brother? ...Did he really have a choice? If he wanted to keep up this facade, if he wanted to keep that smile on Fletcher's face, then there was only one thing he could do. So Russell brought a hand up to cup Fletcher's face and, with only the slightest hesitation, brought their lips close, frighteningly close and...and...Russell couldn't do it. But just a breath later, Russell tilted his brother's chin up, and they were kissing.

Fletcher noticed the hesitation, but it was marked off as nervousness. After all, he was nervous, too... Who wouldn't be? This was their first kiss. He waited patiently, gazing up nervously at his elder, until lips pressed to his. An almost electric thrill went through his nerves, drawing out a tiny, pleased noise. This was... perfect. So perfect. Eyes drifting shut, Fletcher pressed into the kiss, returning it as best he could with his lack of experience.

Wrapping arms around Russell's shoulders, Fletcher was content to stay locked in that blissful moment, lips sealed in a kiss. When the older boy finally did pull away, his younger sibling fixed him with a hazy, content smile. "Mm... I love you so much, Brother."

And Fletcher didn't know the way his elder didn't want this, thought it disgusting or depraved of his baby brother to feel this way, or he might have thought twice about calling him 'Brother' after such an intimate act. Or better yet, might have been ashamed of himself for asking for that at all, for letting his brother lead him on.

"Mm...I love you so much, Brother."

And Russell couldn't do it, couldn't echo Fletcher's words, though whether it was the use of the word "Brother" or the look in his hazy happy eyes that made Russell pull away, he wasn't sure. Either way, he knew he could not do this to Fletcher, not anymore, not before it was too late. Better break him now, he realized, rather than lead him on, only to wait until later. Until Fletcher asked for even more, when the day when Fletcher would invite him into his bed and discover that Russell had been lying all this time.

He shouldn't even have kissed- no, should never have lied about possibly having feelings in the first place. He should have told Fletcher from the beginning that he thought he was sick, that he thought he was depraved, and that there would never be a time when Russell could love him like that. He should have said it then...he had to say it now.

"I...I'm sorry, Fletcher," Russell whispered, getting off the sofa and pulling away, his shoulders bowed in shame. "...I lied. I...can't love you the way you want. I' sorry..."

And why, oh why did his heart want to beg forgiveness right now? Because it knew that Fletcher's heart would break and nothing...nothing could put it together again.

To be continued in part 2!  And if you would like to follow this RP, here's the address: RussellxFletcher

We appreciate reviews and comments, so feel free to tell us what you thought.  Thank you!

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