"Reggie?"

"Yeah, Paul?"

A wide, accepting smile. Big eyes, a gentle voice. Paul felt his resolve die in his throat.

"Never mind."

It was the millionth time they'd had this conversation. Every time he visited, Paul swore he'd say something. He told himself he'd be brave, blurt it out and let Reggie react. That's how Paul always handled being in love with people, a confession, a kiss, and then a time where that person could say something back. Then this happened. Then Paul began going in circles with himself all the time, unable to be his normal, brash, brutally honest self.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Reggie was supposed to find some nice girl so Paul could talk himself out of this. He was supposed to be an asshole so this wouldn't happen in the first place. But he wasn't. He was gentle, loving, caring, and worst of all, a fantastic listener. He let Paul vent to him, took Paul's inexplicable tendencies to rage against the world in stride. He was just doing his job as a brother, Paul told himself. He was just being a normal older brother. Maybe he was a bit too huggy - then again, their parents had died, so maybe that was why he was like that. It was supposed to just be a normal older, nice brother younger, douche brother relationship.

It wasn't. Paul loved him. Paul loved him. And the incest factor meant nothing because Paul was too busy cursing that anyone ever got that close to him in the first place. No one was supposed to mean that much to him. He was supposed to be cold and uncaring. He didn't need anyone. Or more accurately, he didn't want to need anyone. In his own mind relying on people was an awful idea. Paul wanted to be independant, not some wussy Trainer who loved his older brother. The stereotypical little brother big brother dynamic was something Paul had fought against for years. For most of his life, he'd managed to more or less genuinely hate the other boy.

Then again the phone calls. The emails. The hot meals and warm baths waiting for him. The immaculately kept house with thick blankets he could sink into. Goddamnit, he was home when he was there. Somehow he slowly stopped hating Reggie. At some point, the relief of knowing there was a place he could return to after his latest journey overwhelmed his hatred of everything alive. Then one day it happened.

He looked at Reggie and just felt happy. Genuinely happy. Calmed. Soothed. Everything that he was not, he suddenly became. And the urge to just hold the other boy close washed over him like a wave from the ocean.

Not that anyone would ever love Paul. He knew too damn well from his travels that no one would ever really care for him. He'd been with people. Girls used him for money. Men used him for sex. Neither ever really cared, but he followed their beck and call anyway. He was Paul, lone Trainer in a foreign land. He needed to feel like he was worth something. Nowadays, he felt like he wasn't worth shit, and so began the fierce hatred. It kept everyone at a distance. With enough screams and snaps and cold hearted insults, everyone would back away from him sooner or later. It was better that way. He couldn't be rejected and not loved if no one ever had the chance to hurt him.

But... maybe just once, he could take a chance? Reggie wouldn't hurt him, he was sure of it. His brown eyes met Reggie's gray-black ones.

"Hey, Reggie?"

"Yeah?"

Warm, loving, generous, kind.

"Never mind."

Far too good for Paul.