I Wish You Would Disagree

by Nika

Sometimes I wish you would disagree since I can't.
I wish you would look at me and say: "No more. It's over," but you don't.
And I don't, either.
Please, please, forgive me for being weak. I'm the older one and I should 
take responsibility; actually I always regarded it as a part of my role of 
the older brother.
I take responsibility and straighten things out, isn't it like that.
Wasn't it always like that?
Now it's not, not anymore.
We're both losers in this game, both too weak and too stupid.
And so damn greedy.
If only you wouldn't open the door when I knock, if only would never let me in.
The next thing we know is always a sweating panting mess, a lump consisting 
of two bodies, melted into one, somewhere.
The floor, the tiles in your kitchen, the tiles in my bathroom....when have 
we ever managed to get our asses to a bed?
Just as I always hope you will say "No!" I also know that I am probably the 
one who has to say it. You will follow me in whatever my brain spits out, 
like a good little brother.
Don't be good, my little brother. Don't be.
But on the other hand, face it...I'm having sex with my brother and he's 
having it with me....
How good is that for a start to become virtuous?

I'm not the initiator but I'm also not the passive one, seduced by a pair 
of lovely eyes or any crappy romantic stuff like that.
I am both, offender and victim. The roles change with every blink of my 
eyes and with every breath you steal from me, take out of my lungs into yours.
Oh, how fast we are, always so sure of how to undress the other, where to 
put our hands first.
We never say anything, but I know desire when I see it and it's burning in 
your eyes along with desperation.
My hands are at your clothes, always tearing impatiently. But you are no 
different.
Your hands dive into my pants before I can even realize where I want them, 
they get off the hindrance with long-practiced ease while I'm busy peeling 
you out of this symbols of fashion.
We never do it naked though. Just naked enough for you to enter me with 
that pants of yours, so angry, desperate and yet so very very needy. Just 
like mine, I guess.
Just naked enough to get you on the floor and turn you on the stomach, push 
into that essential heat that is you, that surrounds me.
Our bodies are working in cruel perfection, moving to the beat that is our 
own, which is made out of our guilt and ancient instincts.
And we climax. Always.
Almost as if it's a ridicule natural rule.
We're together and our synapses overload, endorphins are pumped through our 
veins in dangerous doses.
And we freeze for a moment. These are the moments when my conscience is the 
loudest.
The moment when I know that this is not actually natural and good and 
fulfilling .
And the moment when I wish you would be happy.
You deserve happiness, so much more than just a guy who comes around for a 
quickie. You are worthy of love and satisfaction.
I know there is this blonde woman in your life.
Your girlfriend and I like her very much.
She completes you with her wit and humor, her soft eyes and wide heart.
And I want a happy family for you. Little children who will bear your 
features, make you crazy with love for them and still get on your nerves 
every now and then.
And I would be their strange uncle with the sarcastic remarks, spoiling 
them, letting them sit on my lap, telling them stories of our childhood, 
embarrassing you to the bone. You would probably be scolding me and we 
would fight just like in the days of our youth.
Staring at your form under me I long for that and not the sad things we do 
as soon as no one is around. The forbidden things, the incest we are 
having...they feel so wrong.
I want you to be the happiest man on earth, living life to the max.
Not feel guilty, lurk around and knock on my door in the middle of the 
night, just to have sex with me without even bothering to close it behind you.
We are addicted, I guess. Addicted to this sad perversion of love.
Not that I don't love you.
I love you so very much, there's is no border to it. And to think I hated 
you so much when you were born since you stole the hearts of our parents 
away from my grasp. But then there was you, the little thing that looked up 
to my guidance even more then the guidance of our parents.
That is when my hate turned into love and your love became unconditional. 
We have made this mess with ease, it seems. We made our ruin by opening 
ourselves to each other.
Plunging into the other, buried in the world we had created.
And this first time we reached out greedily to touch the other, to explore 
the body that was always so close to us. My fingers on your erection for 
the first time, exploring the hot and silky surface, hearing you while you 
tried to stifle your hard moans.
Your first orgasm caused by my untrained caresses, this almost painful 
expression on your young and innocent face, changing you forever. Your 
answer with as much unskilled enthusiasm as I had shown you before.
But we got better. And we got hungrier, wanted to taste whatever pleasures 
and pains we could afflict on the other. My tongue tickling your tip, your 
fingers searching for my hole in desperate movements.
Me in you and you in me.
Mind-blowing, addicting sensations.
Perfect sex.
Imperfect partners.
Why did we ever start this?
No one told us to. No one ever encouraged us to.
Just one day I found my hands on your penis and your fingers in my ass.
Like a coincidence without real meaning.
And we just act out when we are alone, no one ever suspects us, suspect the 
way we are acting.
You and your sweet, really wonderful girlfriend, me and my ever-changing 
beautiful lovers.
They all believe we are just brothers, connected by blood and affection.
How shocked and disgusted they would be if they ever found out.
Even I am shocked every time I think about it in a more neutral way, damn.
And I try to make us stop.
All the times I really wanted to end it, came just to say it's over.
And you open the door and I say: "We should.."
The next thing I know is that you are rather naked and writhing under me, 
letting me know, that I will never be able to stop this.
This knowledge makes me feel even guiltier.
I should be the one to take responsibility, as an older brother, as a man, 
who wishes you to be happy...as your lover.
Oh, I have to gather strength to stop this.
But when you touch me, all my power is gone, vanishes into you.
I'm helpless and so are you..
So we stay like this, condemned in this addiction, this circle of lust.
Into this together. Even though I hate myself for doing it to you, I love 
you all the more for letting me be with you and fuck you.
I love you.
And still I wish you would disagree.


Nika

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