#ummm....

"I'm going to work, now."

Logan looks up from his book, fingers gripping the corner of the page. His mother is grabbing her keys from the hook. "Alright," he says simply, turning the page and looking away.

Across from him sits Virgil, who's playing some game on the TV. Logan's feet are touching his thighs and he debates kicking Virgil in the side.

"Virgil," Logan's mother says exasperated, putting her hand on her hip and gesturing towards him, "what have I said about feet on the table?"

Virgil grumbles, shuffling them off. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. "Sorry, Miss Axford."

"It's been 25 years, you know you don't have to call me that," she laughs lightly, to herself, while Virgil looks embarrassed, biting his lip and playing with his snake bites. Logan eyes it, taking a short inhale. Virgil looks at him out of the corner of his eyes and Logan quickly looks back down. "Logan, tell Virgil he can call me Gio."

Logan rolls his eyes. "Virgil, call my mother by her name." Virgil swats at him.

"Whatever... Sorry, Giovanna..." Virgil mumbles, before groaning and flailing back into the couch as his character dies. Again. Logan snorts.

Giovanna checks her watch as she tugs on a coat. "Is your father back yet from his trip?" Virgil shakes his head. There's a little pause. Virgil doesn't notice Logan's mother eyeing him sympathetically and frowning. "Alright... There's leftovers in the kitchen, when you guys get hungry."

"We're in our 20s, we are very capable of making ourselves food," Logan says.

Giovanna smiles, eyes crinkling. "Still my boys," is all she replies with. The front door opens with a click, keys jingling in her fingers as a purse is slung over her shoulder. "You boys have fun. Please try not to burn down my house."

"We literally never do," Virgil laughs.

"Uh-huh," Giovanna says, skeptically, glancing over her shoulder. Logan and Virgil both mumble goodbyes and the door clicks shut.

Logan flips a page of his book. It's almost quiet, but Virgil is spam clicking buttons on his controller and leaning forward, as if that'll help him focus any better. Logan's certain he's going to die another time. He peers over the top of his book at his legs-- he enjoys seeing the dark hair growing on his shins, up to his thighs (one and a half years on testosterone and he's finally growing hair). His toes poke Virgil in his thigh, but Virgil doesn't react.

Logan swallows as Virgil shifts. He eyes his arms. He's not fit, by any means, but he's not scrawny either. Hair covers the back of his forearms and those thick, rubber bracelets swing from his wrists. On his inner arm is a light, discoloured scar from his phalloplasty (which has Logan quickly glancing down to his sweatpants).

There's a loud groan and a clatter as Virgil tosses his controller on the coffee table. He throws his head back against the couch, running his hands across his face.

"You are awful at that game, I do not understand why you keep playing it," Logan says.

Virgil drops his hands and glares at him. "I'd like to see you try." Logan doesn't respond, trying to bite back a smile. Virgil sighs, looking away, and Logan trails his eyes down. Virgil's band tee (Logan thinks it says Get Scared?) is barely cropped; not enough to show a lot of skin, but enough to show a sliver of his stomach. His happy trail peaks out from under the fabric and his belly button piercing glistens in the light. Logan licks his lips. Virgil runs his hands across his thighs and Logan is once again eyeing his crotch through his pants (stop looking, Logan). There's scattered remnants of black nail polish on his fingernails.

Logan glances up to his face, realising Virgil's looking at him too. He has smudged eyeliner, just on his eye bags and waterline. Logan quickly looks down. He's not sure what his book even says, or where he's at, but he flips the page anyway, with his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

Virgil moves around in his spot and when Logan looks back up, he's pulling a cigarette out of the box and putting it between his lips.

"You are aware mom would figuratively murder you if she knew you were smoking in her house?" Logan says, poking Virgil in his side with his toe.

Virgil holds the lighter up to the end of his cigarette, eyeing Logan out of the corner of his eyes. "Are you gonna rat me out?" He asks around the cigarette.

Logan shakes his head. He runs his finger along the edge of his book.

"I'm 25, it's not like it's illegal."

"It's still her house."

Virgil inhales. Then he turns his head to blow smoke in Logan's direction. Logan cringes. He tries waving the smoke away. Virgil moves to take the cigarette out, laughing.

Logan looks back down, fiddling with the corner of the page. He bends it up and down and then up and down, crinkling the paper.

There's a buzz beside Logan as his phone lights up with a new message.

roman👑:uughhhh patton is sooooo cute !!!

Logan can't stop the frown that forms on his face.

Another buzz. roman👑:im gonna try n take him on a date on wednesday... any ideas as 2 where???

Logan rolls his eyes. He reaches out to turn the phone around, laying it on its face, and tries to turn back to his book. It's not that he's not happy for his best friend. Roman talks about wanting a boyfriend all of the time, the guy is a romantic at heart. Logan's immensely happy for him. It's just... annoying... to constantly hear about... when Logan's never even had a boy look at him before. He lets out an annoyed snort from his nose, turning another page.

"Is that book good?" Logan hears Virgil ask. There's a tone to his voice, but Logan can't place it.

"Yes, it's quite good. I enjoy this author's writing."

"Mhm," Virgil hums. The living room smells of cigarette smoke. "What's it about?"

"A robot," Logan starts, playing with the edge of the page, "it's a futuristic setting and the main character is a security robot that kills people— not because it enjoys it, it just happens to have killed people."

"What just happened in it?"

Logan looks up and tilts his head. "What do you mean?"

Virgil's smiling. Logan isn't sure why. He gestures vaguely to the book with his free hand. "In the book. Like, the last page, what's going on in that chapter?"

Logan glances down. "Um," he pauses. He doesn't know what he's been fake-reading. "A... scenario...."

"Yeah?"

"about, the characters—"

"You know I can tell when you're not reading, right? You're bad at acting."

Logan snaps his eyes up as Virgil snorts. He squints his eyes, embarrassed. "Why are you watching me anyway?"

Virgil opens his mouth to say something, and then hesitates. It stays open for a few seconds and then shuts closed. He shrugs, bringing his cigarette back up to his lips.

It's quiet again.

"What's on your mind?" Virgil finally asks.

Logan knows he can't say you and your body and your skin. Testosterone makes him feel like an animal. He isn't sure if bringing up Roman's relationship is appropriate, either. He feels stupid. Incredibly stupid, stupid, stupid. Unattractive and no one wants me and everyone wants Roman and the person that I want has been my best friend my whole life and that's really not going anywhere--

"Who says I have anything on my mind?" is what he replies with instead.

Virgil just shakes his head. He pats Logan's leg. Logan swallows the spit in his mouth. He stares down at the book in his hands, barely reading the text.

There are too many things on his mind.

"It's just—" Logan stops himself. He runs his forefinger along the page. "I don't know..."

"It's just what?"

Logan licks his lips. "Roman got into a relationship the other day."

"Yeah?"

"And..." Logan exhales out of his nose, "I don't know, it's silly."

"Come on, man," Virgil rubs his thumb on Logan's shin, "you can talk to me."

Logan purses his lips. "Roman has... so much experience with dating and relationships... He's asked out 24/7 by every boy we come across. It's just ...." he shrugs, getting quieter as he talks, "the only 'boyfriend' I've ever had was some boy in middle school for a week," he trails off. Virgil's silent across from him, bringing his cigarette to his lips.

"I didn't know that was something you wanted," is what Virgil ends up saying. When Logan looks up Virgil's chewing one of his lip jewelry. "You've never brought up relationships before."

"It's a bit difficult when you're unattractive," Logan laughs-- or tries to. It comes out breathy and low.

Virgil frowns at that. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean," Logan drops the book in his lap. He's not reading it anyway. He sits straighter, brushing the hair across his forehead. "There must be a reason I've never had a guy ask me out." He waves his hands around, and when he looks up, Virgil is grimacing at him with furrowed eyebrows. Logan looks down. "Clearly, I'm lacking in the looks department."

"You're hot, dude, shut up," Virgil says, rolling his eyes. He pats Logan's shin. Logan flushes from head to toe.

"You think I'm attractive?"

Virgil stutters a bit. He lifts his hand from Logan's body, waving it around. "Y-Yeah, I mean... yeah... you're a good... looking guy."

It's quiet again as Virgil brings the cigarette back to his lips, looking for an excuse to keep his mouth shut. He hears Logan shuffle from beside him.

"... Testosterone is not helping much."

Virgil blinks. He blows out a little cloud, turning his head. "What do you mean?" Logan sits there wringing his hands together. His face is flushed.

"It's like..." Logan chuckles quietly. "... I feel like an animal in heat."

Virgil lets out a startled laugh and nods, hair falling in front of his eyes. "Sounds about right."

"It's a bit of a... predicament having no boyfriend currently." Logan huffs. He leans against the couch again, throwing his head back. "How did you, uh," he stutters, "deal... with that? The...," he waves his hands around, "... the spike in libido?"

"Lots of jerking off." Virgil shrugs his shoulders. "Lots of sex," he says and then cringes, "sorry. I mean--"

"It's alright," Logan says quickly. "Does it ... go away?"

Virgil scrunches up his face. "Uh, sort of? Less 'go away', more... 'easier to manage'." Logan nods at that. He looks up and Virgil's eyes skitter away from him, staring at the wall behind him as if that's somehow more interesting than this conversation. Logan tugs his bottom lip in between his teeth.

It's not an entirely unusual conversation for them; they've talked about sex, and masturbation, and porn before... Logan thinks it's the testosterone, fueling the way he feels, making the air thick with tension he isn't sure has ever floated around before. Or maybe he's had enough of sitting here, year after year, being so close and yet so far from the other. Maybe he's got a disease that makes him forget how to function like a normal person around his best friend and now everything is going to tumble out of his mouth, like a cat hacking up a hairball.

Maybe it's all these things and more.

"I... I have been masturbating frequently, but it's-- it's truly not enough," Logan says.

Virgil nods slow. He's staring at a stain on the coffee table, trying really hard to ignore the growing heat in his pants. He shuffles forward to snuff his cigarette out on a random spot on the coffee table and, immediately, regrets it, now having nothing to do with his hands. He places one back onto Logan's shin.

Logan shudders.

"Yeah," Virgil says quietly, "it's... difficult, sorry, man." He rubs his thumb across Logan's skin.

"And it's the same thoughts. Every. Time," Logan groans, exasperated. Virgil laughs at that. "I just want to be penetrated, it's all I can think about."

"Is that what you were thinking about earlier?"

Logan looks up at Virgil. He won't look at him, but his face is flushed. His fringe keeps falling in front of his eyes and he shuffles awkwardly on the couch.

Logan's chest feels tight. The hand on his shin feels like fire on his skin.

"You want me to confess that I was thinking about getting fucked while sitting next to you?" Logan asks.

Virgil clears his throat and shrugs. "No, I was just wondering."

"Wondering about me getting fucked?"

Virgil squirms at that question. He removes his hand from Logan's shin and picks up the controller from the table. "Whatever, man, don't make it weird." He turns so his back is facing Logan.

Logan feels a weird buzz in his head— he needs to do something. He has to say something, before this moment moves on. Virgil feels so, so close. He should push this, maybe say something almost flirty. Or should he just move on? Ignore whatever this is—

"Do you think about me getting fucked often?" Logan blurts out. He grimaces. Not exactly what he wanted. "I mean—"

"Uh," Virgil starts, and then stops. He doesn't look at Logan. He sits motionless, staring at the paused TV screen.

Logan taps his fingers along his pants. "I've... never had anyone think about me in that way..."

"That you know of," Virgil scoffs as he turns his head to look at the other, "stop being self deprecating."

Logan frowns. "I'm 20. If someone had thought about me in that way, I wouldn't still be single." Virgil scoffs again, shrugging his shoulders out of agitation. Logan isn't sure why this bothers him so much. He watches as Virgil fiddles with the buttons on the controller, moving the joystick up and down.

"You didn't answer me."

There's a crease between Virgil's eyebrows. "What?"

"You didn't answer my question."

A pause. "The one about me thinking about you getting fucked?"

Logan squeaks. "That's the one."

He watches Virgil's mouth move. He licks his teeth behind his closed mouth and then swipes his bottom lip. He sets the controller down, leaning against the couch cushion. "... Do you want me to?" He glances at Logan from the corner of his eyes.

Logan has to stop. He needs to say no, and lay back, and move on from whatever this is. This is too much (not enough), too soon (20 years is too soon?), too close (nowhere near). There's a little voice in the back of his head: when will it be time? he's right here, and now, and he's asking, just tell him, tell him. Virgil is looking at him and Logan wants those eyes to stay on him. tell him.

"yes, i do."

... Logan doesn't respond.

Virgil plays with the strings on his sweatpants. It twists around his fingers. "You didn't answer my question, either."

"Which one?"

"Is sex what you were thinking of?"

Logan tries to laugh. "Yes, it was." There's a little pause as he watches Virgil fiddle with the strings.

"Were you... thinking of anyone?"

"What?"

Virgil finally looks at him. This time making eye contact. Logan has to look away. "Like... do you like anyone?" He asks, differently. It's hushed, soft, quiet-- like anything louder would shatter this moment-- like he knows. Logan blinks, fluttering his eyelashes. He's not sure what to say. He brings his knees up to his chest and swallows hard. He shrugs.

He feels the couch dip as Virgil scoots closer to him. There's a hand placed on his knee. Logan looks at the chipped black nail polish. "Anyone specific?"

Logan shudders. His eyes dart around the room. He looks up at Virgil. "Maybe," he whispers. He brings his hands between his legs and chest, wringing them together. Virgil pushes against him lightly. He puts his other hand on Logan's other knee. "Does it matter?"

Virgil's staring at him with an expression he knows he's seen before and it makes his heart thump in his chest.

"Maybe," Virgil replies. He tilts his head. "Do I know him?"

"We're not playing that game."

"Why don't you want to tell me?"

Logan rolls his eyes. "Leave me alone."

"Come on," Virgil laughs, but it sounds fake to both their ears, "I want to know now."

"Would... it be okay?" Logan asks, instead.

"Would what be okay?"

"Who I'm thinking about."

"I don't know who you're thinking about."

Logan rolls his eyes again, shaking his head and sitting back. "Stop being stupid."

"I'm not being stupid."

Logan raises his eyes to meet Virgil's. Virgil's ears are pink and he tilts his head like a curious puppy.

"I would rather you just say it. It'd be really embarrassing if I guess and I'm wrong."

"I don't think you're going to embarrass yourself" A pause.

He thought this would be harder. More difficult. Embarrassing. Mortifying. He thought he would have to grit his teeth together and "rip of the band aid". Dragging this massive weight around since he was 11 (and most likely much earlier if he put any thought into it), he thought he was going to have to take this forever to his grave. Keep it stored deep inside of him, as deep as it'll go, and lie, and lie, and lie, and lie, and lie.

"I was thinking about you," Logan admits.

But as it tumbles past his lips, he thinks it's the easiest thing he's ever said. It's as simple as breathing air. It sounds almost silly admitting out loud-- of course, Logan would be thinking about Virgil. His childhood friend, his best friend of 20 years, essentially an older brother. Who else would it have ever been?

And when Virgil's lips break out into a grin, face flaring up, Logan thinks it was as obvious to him as it was to himself. He feels close to embarrassment, thinking this-- confessing-- would have gone any other way.

What else would it have been if not 'Logan and Virgil' and 'Virgil and Logan'?

Virgil smiles, cheeks red. "Awww, I was gonna guess Roman--"

Logan frowns. His face feels hot. "No, you weren't." Virgil laughs. He leans down to rest his forehead on top of his hands and Logan's knees. Logan lifts his hand to Virgil's hair.

"Is that okay?" Logan asks again.

Virgil nods slow. It's a bit awkward with his head on Logan's knees. "Yeah... I think so," he says, muffled. Logan runs his fingers through Virgil's tangled hair.

Virgil raises his head. His face is red and he still has that stupid grin on his face. Logan's hand falls from the top of his head as Virgil pushes Logan's legs apart.

"Do you think about me?" Logan asks.

"Would that be okay?"

"I think so," Logan repeats.

Virgil leans forward and Logan's eyes immediately dart down to his lips, watching his snakebites gleam with the light. Logan has thought about those piercings ever since Virgil pierced himself at 16. Virgil smiles a little wider.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

Virgil leans forward and tilts his head. His hands come up to cradle Logan's face, pressing their lips together softly. Logan flutters his eyes shut and sighs into him. Virgil leans away, before diving back in and kissing him harder. Logan makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat. He wants to put his hands... somewhere. He isn't sure. He just wants to touch him. He raises his hands, setting them awkwardly on top of Virgil's shoulders.

Virgil moves away, but not by much. Not even an inch. "I've wanted to do that since, like... forever," Virgil says, blowing hot air against Logan's lips.

"You're embarrassing," Logan replies, as he presses their lips together again. His thighs spread apart easily, letting Virgil fill the gap. Virgil pushes him against the couch until he's on top, towering over the younger man. Logan pins Virgil's sides with his legs. Tight.

Virgil licks the bottom of his lip and Logan can't help the groan that escapes him. He shoves his hands against Virgil's chest as Virgil's fingers run up his face to his hair and tugs harshly at the strands. Logan gasps. His lips part and, immediately, Virgil is taking the chance to slip his tongue past his teeth.

Through Virgil's sweats, Logan can feel his hard-on. His cock brushes against Logan's and Logan's hips move on their own, grinding upwards. Virgil drags his hands slow down Logan's body, carefully, until they rest on his hips. They both pause.

Virgil thrusts, slowly, hesitantly, into Logan, gripping his hips tight in his fingers, making them meet in the middle.

"Shit," Logan gasps. He leans back to eye between them, watching where their cocks grind through light layers of clothes.

Virgil scratches his nails down his skin. They grip his thighs, tugging and squeezing the skin there, and then dip beneath Logan's gym shorts-- Logan breathes hard. Wide eyed, he watches as Virgil moves to his inner thigh, running his thumb along Logan's small cock. He moves down, pressing his thumb against the very wet spot of Logan's boxers. Logan squeezes his eyes shut.

Logan's head is swimming. He feels Virgil's breath on his lips and his mouth falls open as he arches his back, hands tangled in Virgil's shirt.

Virgil's lips brush against his.

"Virgil," Logan whispers. He hears Virgil make a noise in the back of his throat--

Virgil leans back quick. Logan reels at the loss of warmth as Virgil sits back on his legs. His hands rest on Logan's knees while Logan blinks his eyes open.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Virgil says. His voice is tight and shaky.

"What?" Logan sits up on his elbows. His legs automatically close, almost pushing Virgil out of the space.

"I-" Virgil stutters, "I-I shouldn't-- I'm sorry."

The world gets a little blurry and when Logan blinks, there's a pressure building behind his eyes. Virgil's face crumbles immediately. He opens his mouth and then closes it, then opens it again-- he looks like a fish out of water and Logan almost wants to laugh.

"Logan," Virgil starts.

Logan's nose flares. He tries blinking away the tears that are rapidly growing. "Do you not like me?" Logan asks-- he doesn't mean for his voice to shake and crack, but it does. He isn't sure why that's the first thing out of his mouth. He feels cold and exposed.

Virgil's grip tighten on his knees. "That's not it," Virgil says, leaning forward, "God. I..." He hesitates. "Of course, I like you. I want you, but you're-- you're basically my brother--"

"Not technically," Logan replies, trying to keep his tone even.

Virgil rolls his eyes and pinches the inner skin of Logan's thigh. Logan gasps automatically, mouth dropping into a quiet moan. Virgil swallows hard. He scrubs a hand down his face.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters.

Logan licks his lips. "We don't have to tell mom." He doesn't know when they started referring to Logan's mom as their mom, but it doesn't make the argument against "not brothers" any better.

"Well, obviously... but, like, I," Virgil makes a noise, shrugging his shoulders, "we can't tell anyone. All my friends know you as my brother. Like... literally. You know how many times Remus has asked if my 'annoying little brother' was home?"

Logan blinks. He feels warm knowing that Virgil is over so often that people think Logan's house is his-- Wait. "Annoying?" He asks.

"You are."

Logan scoffs, but decides not to respond. "You act as if I am going to email all of our friends right after this to tell them that we had sex."

"Okay, but you probably could, 'cause no one checks their damn email— who does that?? That's why we have texting."

Logan rolls his eyes. His fingers grip the couch underneath him and he flutters his eyelashes, staring intently at Virgil.

Virgil grips his thighs, spreading them open again. "I've never corrected anyone. I know you haven't either."

Logan isn't sure what to say. "Please?" He murmurs. Its barely audible.

Virgil swallows hard. "Mom literally calls me her son, too," he says, but he leans forward anyway, climbing back on top of him. Logan shrugs.

"You want this?" Virgil asks.

"Since I was 11."

Virgil's eyebrows shoot up. "What? Shut up." Logan's face flushes red and he looks off to the side. "You've liked me since you were eleven?"

"That's when you pierced your snakebites, I-I couldn't stop thinking about them..." Logan sounds shy, embarrassed. His voice quivers. Virgil's finger hooks underneath Logan's chin, tilting his head to look at him.

"You're cute."

Logan shrugs again. "How long have you liked me?"

"I don't know. Since I was, like, 7."

"What?"

Virgil laughs. "I used to write about us getting married back in elementary school."

"What?" Logan furrows his eyebrows, doing the math in his head. "I was three."

Virgil laughs harder, shoulders shaking. "Dad keeps those papers in a box in his closet."

"You are showing me those later--"

"Fuck no, what?? That's so embarrassing--"

"You have to!" Logan begs, "You can't just bring that up and then not show me!" Virgil's giggling, smiling wide as his bangs fall in front of his eyes and he tucks his head into Logan's shoulder.

There's a kiss pressed to Logan's neck, that travels down to his collar bone. Virgil's hands slip underneath Logan's shirt, pulling it up to his chest, exposing his breasts. Logan's always been a little dysphoric over his chest, but it's hard to focus on that when Virgil scoots down to kiss the skin between them softly. He opens his mouth to drag his teeth along Logan's flushed skin, barely tugging at it. Logan shivers. His hands come up to cradle the back of Virgil's head as he continues to kiss down his body.

Virgil's mouth reaches his navel. His fingers sneak under the waistband of his shorts and boxers and he leans back to drag both off at the same time. There's a thick rope of precum glistening attached to the inside of the crotch and it snaps as the fabric gets further away. It splatters onto Logan's stomach. He whimpers when Virgil starts laughing.

"You are soaked," Virgil comments, scooting back to remove Logan's bottoms. Logan resists the urge to shove his face into his hands. Once his boxers and shorts are removed, Virgil sits back and just... stares. Stares at his wet cunt and twitching t-dick, hidden behind some of Logan's pubic hair. Shoving his head into the cushion behind him, Logan tries to close his legs and is swiftly stopped by Virgil's nails digging into his thighs.

"Wow," Virgil breathes out.

"Virgil," Logan hisses.

Virgil runs his fingers down-- he doesn't get close to his cock. He just settles his hands nearby. Logan can feel his arousal drip down his skin. "Look at how big you got."

Logan squeaks, squirming. "Ah--"

"I mean..." Virgil tilts his head. He lifts his middle finger and thumb to flick Logan's small cock. Logan gasps loud. "It's not as big as expected, but you know."

Logan brings his hands up to his face. "Virgil." His face feels hot, and there's something about feeling humiliated by, and around, Virgil that makes his cunt pulse. He peeks through his fingers. Virgil's once again eying his t-dick and when he shuffles in his spot, Logan can make out the hard outline of his cock. He drops his hands as his mouth goes dry.

Virgil snorts. "Like something you see?" He runs his hands up and down Logan's thighs, ignoring his little, red cock. It twitches helplessly at his words.

Logan shuts his eyes and throws his head back. "You're teasing me." He feels Virgil lean down to kiss his exposed neck, inhaling deeply with a hum. He flutters his eyes open when Virgil sits back up. He places a delicate hand on Virgil's waist band and tugs lightly. "Can I see?"

When Virgil tucks his thumbs underneath the thick fabric and pulls it down to his mid thigh, his cock bobs with the movement, standing tall. He is--

"Thick," Logan says, trying to keep his breathing steady.

Virgil shrugs as he grips the back of Logan's thighs, pushing his knees closer to his chest. "Yeah. It healed pretty good, too." Logan reaches a hand down to grip his shaft. There's a bead of clear liquid dripping from the tip and trailing down the side of his cock.

Virgil replaces Logan's hand with his own. He squeezes himself, lowering down until the tip of his cock is pressed up against Logan's. Logan lets out a strangled noise.

"Do you know what frotting is?" Virgil asks, teasing. He drags his cock down, Logan's cock flicking upwards with the pressure, and dips his cock into his wet hole, just barely pressing into it.

"Yes," Logan moans, "I do."

Virgil's slides his dick against Logan's, up and down, up and down, again, and again, and again. It's slow and steady and light, and it's aggravating. Logan tries to buck into him, whimpering when Virgil laughs and forces his hips to still. There's a bead of sweat running down his forehead.

"You want my cock?" Virgil asks. He thrusts hard against him.

Logan gasps. "Yes, please-- Virgil-- fuck."

"Oh, yeah?"

Logan covers his mouth with his hand and then moves it back down to settle next to his body. He's white knuckling the couch cushions. He's cursing quietly as Virgil continues to rut against him like a dog humping a pillow. When he looks up at Virgil, Virgil looks lost in thought-- eyebrows furrowed. His fringe has become sweaty with some strands stuck to his forehead.

Virgil's lips part. Then they shut. Then, hesitantly, they open again. "You want your brother's cock?" Virgil asks.

The noise Logan makes is entirely involuntary, and loud, dick twitching and hips bucking in the elder's grip. His hands clench at his sides. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, he just stares at Virgil wide eyed and flushed as he nods.

Virgil hums, tilting his head. "What was that?" Logan's eyebrows furrow as he shuts his mouth. "Are you sure you want it?"

A whine escapes Logan's lips. His entire chest is flushed. "Y-Yes, please," he forces past gritted teeth.

The corners of Virgil's lips twitch upwards. "I can't hear you."

Logan groans. His eyes flutter shut and then open. He licks his bottom lip and Virgil's eyes track the movement. He swallows hard. "I want-- I want my brother's cock."

Virgil curses. "Fuck."

"Please," Logan pleads.

"Say it again."

Logan feels hot all over and there's a pit forming in his stomach. He's always referred to Virgil as his older brother, while keeping very conflicting feelings about his attraction to him, and right now they're swirling around in his head and mixing in a way he isn't sure is right or wrong. "I want my brother's cock, please. Please. I want my brother to fuck me."

Virgil growls. He leans forward and kisses Logan hard. The change in position squeezes their cocks together and they both moan into each other.

"Fuck me, Virgil, please," Logan begs. He's trembling. He can't stop pleading with him.

"Okay, okay, yeah, okay," Virgil mutters. He stops moving and leans away. "I'm gonna— I'm gonna fuck you." Logan's hips bucks up a few times, trying to chase him, until Virgil holds him down. Logan's cunt clenches at nothing.

Virgil shoves two fingers into his mouth, drenching the digits in his spit. In any other state, Logan would comment on how unhygienic that is, and how Virgil just finished smoking a cigarette, but right now, he feels sort of stupid and floaty and desperate, and all he can do is spread his legs apart needily.

Virgil runs his fingers along Logan's slit, collecting the wetness dripping out of his cunt. They press in easily. The stretch hardly registers in Logan's mind. His chest rises and falls quickly, panting hard, feeling Virgil's fingers slide in deeper.

Logan's fingered himself before-- plenty of times, most of those times thinking about Virgil's fingers-- but this feels wildly different. "Oh," Logan gasps. Virgil's fingers thrust in and out, and then they curl, pressing against the inside of his pussy. Logan arches his back, keening. They move around, as if searching for something, and when he presses hard against the roof of his cunt, Logan cries.

"There we go," Virgil murmurs, mainly to himself. He continues to ram his fingers against Logan's g-spot, very much enjoying the way Logan scrambles for the couch, shaking. "You're so beautiful."

Logan keeps closing his eyes and then opening them to glance down. He doesn't want to miss any moment of this, but god. He feels something growing in his lower stomach as Virgil fingerfucks him. He feels like he has to pee, and he wonders if he needs to stop Virgil before he does.

"Virgil-- ah," Logan moans, squeezing his eyes shut. It's hard to say anything, actually. He whines, high pitched and needy. "Please."

"Please what?" Virgil laughs lightly.

This feels good. Way better than fingering himself, and he thinks he could come from this alone. Virgil's thumb presses into his clit and Logan trembles. The room is loud with slick, wet noises, and it's obscene and lewd.

"Virgil-- Big brother, I--" Logan doesn't get to finish, as Virgil lets out a curse, ramming against his g-spot hard. Logan cries. His cunt clenches around Virgil's fingers.

There's a harsh kiss pressed to Logan's lips that startles him, but he kisses back eagerly, snaking his hands under Virgil's shirt to grip at his back. His nails leave half moon indents on the skin. "Big brother, please, please--"

Warmth and friction leaves Logan's cock when Virgil moves away. He tries bucking upwards, opening his mouth to beg, to plead, but is quickly cut off with a choked moan when he feels the head of Virgil's cock circle around his hole. He looks down, watching Virgil grip his length tight in his hand.

Then, he just sits there. He doesn't move. Just sits still against his pulsing cunt.

Logan grits his teeth. "Big brother, stop teasing m--" he doesn't get to finish, as his own stuttering gasp cuts him off when Virgil starts to push into him.

Virgil's patient and slow as he presses into Logan. Logan throws his head back, staring at the ceiling. It's not the first time Logan has been penetrated, he has plenty of sex toys hidden away in his bottom drawer. But Virgil is a lot bigger than any dildo he's ever used. The stretch starts to hurt, and Logan grits his teeth, letting out a little groan.

"Shit," Virgil asks, stopping, "am I hurting you?"

Logan shakes his head, but he squeezes his eyes shut. "It just s-stings a bit," he says, voice tight. Virgil starts to pull out and Logan makes a pathetic little noise.

It sounds like Virgil is trying to steady is own breathing and Logan inhales deeply-- he wasn't even aware he was holding his breath-- trying to match Virgil's pace.

"You have to keep breathing, dude," Virgil says.

Logan feels his entire face flush. He looks away, frowning. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, no, it's okay." Virgil leans forward to kiss him, shushing him. He runs a hand up and down his side. "I'm gonna go again, just let me know if the stinging doesn't go away." Logan nods, breathing again. He's trying so hard to just breathe.

When Virgil starts pushing again, Logan tries spreading his thighs to accommodate his size. Virgil barely pushes in, until he's pulling out, and then pushing in, a little deeper, and out again. With every thrust and every breath, it feels better. It's difficult to describe, Logan isn't sure how to begin to describe it. He feels full. Like he's being split open. Impaled, even.

He can't stop all the little, pathetic noises escaping from his lips. He's staring up at the ceiling, letting his eyes unfocus. All he can think is virgilvirgilvirgilvirgilvirgil. He isn't sure how to go back to normal after this. His brain feels like complete mush. When Virgil is fully inside of him, Logan's mouth drops open.

"Oh, god," he moans. Virgil laughs at him, moving his hands from the back of Logan's thighs to cup his face in his hands. He presses a kiss to the corner of Logan's mouth. Logan wraps his legs around Virgil's waist. He lets out another little moan.

It's not the first time Virgil has had sex since bottom surgery, but it has been awhile. It's not his first time topping another trans man either, but-- maybe he's emotional, or the fact he's fantasised about this his entire life, or maybe it's simply because it's Logan-- but he doesn't think it has ever felt this good. He has to sit there for a second with Logan, feeling him clench around his cock, trying not to orgasm before he can even move and give Logan what he wants.

"You good there?" Virgil asks, breathlessly, pulling back to look at Logan's face. Logan's struggling to keep his eyes open as he glances down at where their hips meet.

"Oh my god," Logan repeats. Virgil chuckles.

"Feel good?" Virgil teases.

"Shut up," Logan groans. He rests his head back and Virgil chokes a bit when he gets a look at him. Logan's hair is stuck to his forehead, sweat rolling down his skin. His cheeks are flushed a pretty red, wet lips parted, as he stares up at Virgil with lidded lips and large pupils. He's seen Logan in a million different ways, a million different times, in a million different situations, but this one latches onto the back of his mind like a leech and he's not sure if he's going to be able to get it unstuck (not like he wants to).

"Just move," Logan says, panting.

"Demanding." But Virgil begins to move anyway. He slowly pulls out, up to his tip, and then pushes back in. He relishes the way Logan's eyes flutter shut and another noise escapes him. He sounds so pathetic and whiny and beautiful.

Virgil sets a steady pace, and when he shifts position and thrusts hard, Logan lets out a gargled moan.

"Yes!" Logan keens, his eyes roll into the back of his head. "Right there!"

Virgil leans down, groaning into Logan's neck, continuing to hit that spot as Logan trembles in his arms. Logan's incoherently babbling in his ear, cursing and moaning his name and begging. "You sound so beautiful, Logan, holy shit," Virgil pants, kissing his earlobe. His hand travels to Logan's chest, squeezing lightly and then fondling his nipples. He pinches and twists and Logan's nails dig into his skin.

"My little brother's so, so beautiful. It's like you were made for me." Virgil isn't really sure what he's saying anymore either, but Logan makes a low 'guh' noise, squeezing him tighter. Virgil shifts to sit up, gripping the back of Logan's thighs and pushing them into his chest. He fucks him harder. Logan's teeth grit together.

"Oh my god, oh my god, fuck--" Logan's voice is tight. He sounds like he's on the verge of crying, voice quivering and cracking. His hands fall to tangle in Virgil's shirt, gripping him like he's a lifeline. His breasts bounce with Virgil's thrusts and his head is thrown back, exposing his neck.

It's memorising to watch. He wishes he had a camera out.

Logan's babbling nonsense, and then: "You're my brother," he rasps out. He lets out a high pitched cry. "You're my brother, you're my brother, you're my brother, you're my brother." He starts chanting it through sobs and Virgil's eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn't stop fucking him. Logan can't stop shaking in his hands.

"I'm g-gonna cum, V-Vir--" Logan stutters, struggling through Virgil's name and gags on his saliva.

"Only I can fuck you this good," Virgil grunts.

Logan sobs. "Yes! "

"Only your big brother gets to fuck you like--" Virgil doesn't get to finish his sentence as Logan moans Virgil's name, clenching around him as his orgasm hits him like a train.

Logan's back arches as he comes. He throws his head forward, teeth grit together. He curses. His thighs are quivering and he drops a shaking hand to his t-dick, stroking it fast through his orgasm. He throws his head back. His hips buck. His free hand pushes against Virgil's chest and then grips his shirt to pull him closer, then pushes him away, as if it's too much and not enough. Virgil watches as Logan convulses: tossing his head back and forth, hips twitching, gagging on his words and moans.

Virgil's cumming at the sight before he, himself, even acknowledges that he's close. His nails dig into Logan's thighs as he hunches forward, moaning Logan's name into his breasts. He's basically rutting into Logan, like a dog, with short little thrusts and grinding against him. He's orgasmed before after bottom surgery, and it's crazy how much better it feels. He moves to wrap his arms around Logan's waist, jerking his hips.

Then his hips stutter.

Virgil collapses on top of Logan, shoving his face into his chest as he comes down from his high. Logan tries to steady his own breathing, feeling Virgil tightly wrap his arms around his waist, both of their chests rising and falling in unison. Logan feels gross– covered in sweat and spit and come– and he's exhausted, like he just ran the longest marathon in his life, or hiked a mountain.

Logan rubs his hands up and down Virgil's back, feeling his exhaustion become overwhelmed by his joy: he feels giddy, like a middle schooler with a crush. He can't stop the smile that creeps onto his face and he's almost embarrassed (but, this is Virgil...).

He just had sex. For the first time. With his best friend. His best friend since childhood, since they've been in diapers.

He tries to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling, but it's futile.

There's something cold and wet that hits Logan's chest. He glances down as Virgil sits up a little and wipes a hand across his eyes, sniffling.

"Are you crying?" Logan asks, tilting his head. The happiness in his heart is suddenly replaced with a pit in his stomach.

Virgil nods. "Sorry," is all he replies with, as he settles back down on Logan's chest. Logan runs his hands across his back in little circles.

"Why are you crying?"

Virgil doesn't respond for a second, and then he's sitting up, both of them cringing as the position jostles where their hips are still connected. Virgil slips out of Logan, glancing down at the wetness there. "A lot of feelings."

"Bad ones?" Logan asks, sitting up on his elbows. His back aches and so do his legs.

Virgil smiles at that. His eyes are all watery. "No, no, good. Conflicting, but good."

Logan raises a hand to wipe his makeup, now smudged, with his thumb and Virgil leans into his palm, which has Logan's chest feeling tight and—

"Oh," Virgil says suddenly, "you're crying." He sounds worried and scared.

Logan blinks, feeling tears run down his cheeks and he snorts. "Apologies. I... don't know why." His voice cracks a little and Virgil laughs lightly. Virgil leans forward to wipe his tears away. and then they're just sitting there, cradling each others faces in their palms. Logan feels sick (a good sick, he thinks).

Virgil lays back down on top of Logan, curling up underneath his chin and Logan wraps his arms around him, cradling the back of his head.

"I've liked you for awhile," Logan says, very quietly. Almost shyly. He hears Virgil let out a little laugh, relaxing in his grasp.

"You said when I pierced my lips?" He sounds muffled as he speaks into Logan's skin. He's still sniffling.

Logan nods, then remembers Virgil can't see him. "Yeah. Puberty was... difficult."

Virgil laughs at that, shoulders shaking.

Logan feels so comfortable. He keeps talking. "Roman once asked me if I had a crush on anyone in middle school and I didn't know what to say. He tried to figure it out and I got mad at him. I yelled." Virgil hums lowly. His breathing is slow and steady (it feels like he's trying to breathe Logan's scent specifically). Logan taps Virgil's shoulders.

"I have... fantasied... about this moment," Logan says. He can't stop talking. Virgil's lips graze his skin and he feels warm again.

"I have, too."

It's quiet.

"Do you masturbate to me?" Virgil asks.

Logan rolls his eyes, annoyed. "Jesus Christ."

"Come on," Virgil says, smiling. Logan whacks the back of his head and Virgil starts laughing.

"Yes, I have. Idiot."

Virgil's snorting— and Logan isn't entirely sure why he says it, it just spills out of him, like someone's opened a faucet—"I stole your dildo when I was 18 and used it on myself."

There's a pause.

"I cleaned it afterwards, of course," Logan continues.

"What? What the fuck??" Virgil's laughing so hard, his face is turning red. "Why did you bring that up just now?"

"You asked."

Virgil ducks his face back into Logan's chest, cackling.

"I love you," Logan blurts out— again. Everything's coming out like word salad and he thinks he should stop talking forever. (It's not like they've never said it before, but it's rare and now there's... added context.)

Virgil lifts his head to press his lips against Logan's. Logan hums into the kiss. Virgil breaks apart and starts pressing more kisses to his lips. One, two, three—

"If you keep smiling, I can't kiss you," Virgil says, lightly, "...this is disgusting." Logan smiles wider. "It's like I'm kissing your teeth, you freak."

"I love you," Logan repeats against his lips. Their kiss is absolutely disgusting. They're covered in sweat and tears and come and their teeth clash together. It's not even a kiss at this point.

"I love you, too." Virgil smiles. ".... Little bro."

Logan cringes. "No one says that." Virgil raises an eyebrow and Logan's remembering what he was calling him a few minutes earlier. "Do not say anything," he says, before Virgil can even try to speak up.

"You should get stuck in the washing machine, next," he says instead.

"I'm not doing that."

"Whatever," Virgil snorts. He leans down to press another kiss to Logan's chest and up to his shoulders— now that he's able to, he doesn't think he's going to stop kissing Logan anytime soon.

"As much as I enjoy cuddling with you...," Logan starts, "I would like to not be covered in sweat and come." Virgil groans in annoyance, but sits up, raising his arms high above his head to stretch.

Their hands never leave each other as they get up, slow and quiet. Their fingers tangle together as they gather Logan's clothes and pad their way up the stairs to their bathroom. Logan starts to lose count how many times Virgil kisses him. As the bathroom door opens, while getting changed, waiting for the water to warm up, washing hair-- it's truly as if he cannot help himself (Logan's definitely not complaining).

----------------------------------

"We're not actually brothers, Virgil, you don't have to keep calling me your 'little bro'."

"You know, for someone who swears up and down that we're not brothers and it's fine--"

"Oh, for the love of--"

"I mean, you were literally chanting it!"

Logan rolls his eyes. "Virgil--"

"I'm just saying..." Virgil leans against Logan's dresser, still dripping from their shower. "You don't give a good argument... little broth-"

"Virgil," Logan says, tense. He pulls his shirt over his head, trying to ignore the rising shame in his stomach. disgustingdisgustingdisgustingdisgust-- "I do not want to talk about this anymore." He runs a hand through his damp hair. His back is turned to Virgil.

Logan can't tell anyone. He can't even tell Roman, and he tells Roman everything. What would he think? What would thei-- his mom think? At least if he tells himself they're not actually brothers, he can grit his teeth together and ignore it— (And then there's heavy feeling in his chest and stomach at the idea of Virgil not being his brother anymore— he isn't sure what he's supposed to feel right now).

Virgil clears his throat. "I wasn't judging you."

Logan sighs, shoving his face into his hands.

"I said it first."

"I know...But... Was it... Was it strange...?" Logan turns to look at Virgil. He has his arms crossed, head tilted.

Virgil shrugs. "I liked it, that's why I said it."

"You don't think it was... disturbing? Was I weird?"

"Dude," Virgil says, exasperated. He uncrosses his arms as he walks towards Logan

"You can tell me." Logan looks away, wringing his hands together. "If it was uncomfortable, I understand. We can't be family anymore–" Logan can hear his voice shake, "if we're–"

"Hey."

Logan glances up at Virgil as he takes his hands and laces their fingers together. "I like that you're my brother," Virgil says, which has Logan's throat tightening. He leans into Virgil's chest. "You've been my sort-of-brother for twenty years, you're not getting away from me that easily. Even if we're fucking." Logan snorts, wrapping his arms around Virgil's torso. "... I like it a lot, too," Virgil admits.

"This is an incredibly weird way to comfort me."

Virgil kisses the top of his head in response.

They'll talk more about this dynamic and situation. Figure out what it means and what to do. Though, right now, they think they can enjoy their... atypical relationship. Even if just for a bit.

"You started crying," Logan asks, "why did you start crying?"

"Same reason you're freaking out now." Virgil absentmindedly rubs little circles onto Logan's back. "And a million other reasons."

"Aren't we just perfect?"

Virgil hums. "If anything, I think it's more weird to steal my dildo actually--"

Logan groans, pushing himself out of Virgil's arms.

"When did you even take it??"