Holy, dear Lord. If someone had told my my first year of Uni wouldv'e been this hectic, I would've laughed them to death. GOD. But it's Summer now and I'm going to try and write till the world ends.

Justin threw his bag unto the couch, before slumping beside it. He was absolutely exhausted. The house was quiet—his parents were downstairs in the shop and Alex and Max were at the school fair. He wasn't one for fairs, or fair-like activities; he'd much rather use his time efficiently, going home early to get started on school-work.

But now that he'd gotten home, he was suddenly deathly tired, most likely because it was the only moment he had taken to relax in longer than he cared to remember. Stretching his long legs out, he eyed the remote beside him on the couch, before looking at the television.

Dare he?

Something like turning on the television was as daring a task to him as going to a club for the first time. He weighed the pros and cons of it out in his head, finally decided a few minutes couldn't hurt.

Four hours later, Max burst through the door, startling Justin, who was shrouded in darkness, his eyes glued to the television set like his life actually depended on it. "Cool!" Max exclaimed. "You watch Tucker's Trucks too?"

Justin quickly turned off the tv, throwing the remote aside like it was poison. "No." he said, standing up. Dear lord, had he really gotten so into a show that Max watched?! He felt a little ill.

"Yeah you do!" Max laughed, pushing past him to grab the remote and turning the tv back on, dropping his bag on the floor in the process, which got an eye-roll out of Justin. "I don't." he snapped, pushing Max back, even though it was ridiculously immature.

Max's lips parted into a ridiculously attractive, devilish smile. He eyed Justin. "So you wanna play, then." He said daringly.

"What? No." Justin was momentarily distracted with why he found Max's smile so adorable. "I don't wanna play. Hey, stop, wai-" His breath was knocked out of him as Max tackled him to the floor, his elbow on Justin's windpipe.

"Say you like Tucker's Trucks!" Max exclaimed. He was surprisingly strong. Had Justin been that strong at 15? He doubted it. Then again, Max ran track. "Stop!" Justin was irritated that Max was nearly as strong as him. He pushed Max off, wrestling him to the ground. "I don't like your stupid tv show about gas-guzzling vehicles."

Max gasped. "You did not JUST!" he yelled, managing to push himself up unto his knees. Now Justin had him pinned-sort of. He was straddling Max and sitting up. Max's face was really close to his. "Tucker's Trucks is the most amazingly awesome, truck-tastic show about trucks ever. Ever!" He playfully pressed his fist to Justin's chest, still using his other hand to keep himself balanced.

"If you love it so much, why don't you marry it?" Justin was enjoying this position way too much.

He didn't often get to see his brother up close, his brother that looked so different from himself. They both had dark, Italian hair, but Max's was thick and wavy and shiny and gorgeous; his was plain. Max also had pretty, tanned skin, that was starting to turn heads at school. And his lips made Justin jealous; they were soft and tinted almost as if they'd been painted with a crimson brush.

Max had such an interesting face; it was young and beautiful but it was also kind of really sexy. Justin furrowed his brow, a confused smile coming to his lips. He sat up and grabbed a pillow off the couch, pressing it to Max's face and shoving him to the ground. He didn't want to look at him anymore, looking at Max really confused Justin.

"Justin!" Max piped out childishly, batting against the pillow. "What's up with you today? Why're you being fun?"

Justin stood up, neatly fluffing the pillow and putting it back unto the couch. "What? I'm fun…I can be fun." He said. He was a little out of breath. And he was getting hard, but it was ok, so was Max, a little. Everything got teenage boys hard, it wasn't weird.

Max lay on the floor, laughing. "You're. Hilarious. You're as fun as a prostate check."

"What do you know about prostate checks?" Justin rolled his eyes, heading towards the kitchen.

"I know it's when you get butt-raped by a creepy 60 year old doctor." Max said, matter-of-factly. That made Justin smile. Max usually made him smile.

"So like most things, you know nothing about it." He grinned, getting out the bread.

Max giggled. His voice was still a little young. Justin liked to hear it because it was cute when Max giggled. "Shut up." Max said.

"Anyways, how was the fair?" Justin asked, toasting four slices of bread in the toaster oven. Max was quiet for a while. Justin got out butter from the fridge, before looking over at Max, still lying there on the floor, but he wasn't smiling any more. "What happened?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing." Max said, standing up. "I'm gonna shower." He grabbed his bag and rushed off upstairs, leaving Justin alone and confused.

Justin viciously buttered the toast. Why did he always ruin it when he and Max were having good moments? It pissed him off. Every time he got close to his brother-and these occasions were rare, and amazing—every single time, he somehow ruined it.

But what had happened at the fair? Max was popular at school; Justin highly doubted he had been bullied or something. Maybe it was a girl? Did Max have a girlfriend?

Now the buttering was a little more than vicious.

Heating the skillet, Justin sautéed mushrooms and onions, before adding bacon and turning down the heat. He made two sandwiches and left one there in the kitchen. He was hungry, but he'd eat it later. Right now, he had a brother to help, which, admittedly, he didn't do nearly enough.

"Knock." He said, holding the sandwich up to the door as if Max could see it through the mahogany. "I made your favorite."'

It was quiet for a little, then some rustling, before Max opened the door. He was wet and in his boxers, toweling his hair. His eyes lit up when he saw the sandwich. "Mmm!" he said, taking it quickly, popping a hot bit of mushroom into his mouth.

It was really amazing how happy tiny things made him.

He stood there and took a couple bites of the piping hot food, his toes curling every time he chewed. He really loved bacon and mushrooms; Justin had been making it for him since they were little, but not often.

Justin walked into Max's teenage boy room. It smelt like Max, which was a really great smell, and it was messy and comfortable. There were posters on the walls of bands and movies and wizards and some of girls.

Those were new.

Justin looked at them. There was one with a small-breasted brunette in shorts and a bikini, and another with a massive-breasted blonde in a short military outfit. The caption of the poster said 'stand at attention, boys.'

Justin rolled his eyes. He couldn't really tell what kind of girl Max liked from the posters. "Sit." Max pushed dirty clothes off his bed, making a little room. He was such a host.

Justin did, watching as Max happily munched on his sandwich as he walked in circles, towel-drying his hair. How did he re-open the conversation they'd been having? Max appeared to have forgotten about it.

"Uhm, where's Alex?" he asked. That was a good opening.

"I guess she's still at the fair." Max said. "They were gunna screen a movie on the back lawn at 9."

"Oh, you left really early then." Max had come home a little after 7. Maybe that had something to do with it.

"I wasn't really…" Max shrugged, and it drew attention to his lean shoulder muscles, or at least, it made Justin look.

"It was kind of boring." His voice cracked, and he sounded frighteningly close to tears all of a sudden. Justin didn't know what to do. He and Max had never been very close.

Max put his empty plate down, standing over the dresser and staring down at the floor. The room was so quiet, and Justin had no idea what to say. He didn't know if he should say anything, he didn't want to ruin anything.

"I got rejected. I kind of didn't want to stick around after that." Max said finally.

Justin looked at the big-breasted blonde on the wall. "Oh." He said. He had never had a proper girl-friend, no wonder Max didn't care to talk to him about these things.

Max didn't move, and he really looked like he might cry, which Justin was afraid of because he didn't know how to deal with crying. He quickly got up and walked over to Max, awkwardly hugging him from behind. Max was warm and wet.

It seemed the right thing to do because Max quickly turned around and hugged him, clung to him rather. His hands gripped at Justin's shirt, and he pressed his cheek to his brothers and Justin's heart pounded because Max smelled fresh and adorable and his skin was unbelievably soft. He held his breath as Max held him, breathing against him, pressing against him. He felt Max's nipples too, hard against his chest. Oh God, oh shit.

Oh fuck. Yes please.

Max finally pulled away, and his eyes were full of tears and Justin cupped his cheeks and wiped them just so he could touch his brothers face. He refused to admit to himself how Max had been making him feel the past few weeks.

"I tried to kiss him." Max looked away.

Justin blinked. "Him?"

Max nodded, looking away. Justin's heart began beating again, so…so fast.