Warm sunshine and a cold, empty space beside him lulled Riley out of his sleep the next morning. He winced as the light assaulted his newly awakened eyes.

Why da fuck he gotta open up da curtains fo'?

He pondered sleepily. He shifted slightly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and stroking the place where Huey had slept last night longingly. He swung his legs onto the hardwood floor, shivering as the morning chill hit his legs.

…Wait… morning chill? He glanced at the digital alarm clock, shaking his head at the numbers that stared up at him, '6:32'. Since when the fuck did he get out of bed before 10:30? Riley walked over to his dresser, more like the floor beside his dresser, and picked up a long sleeved shirt. Riley removed his basketball wristbands that he was forced to now wear and ashamedly examined his wrists. He overheard some of the emo kids in school quietly speaking of how cutting your wrists somehow relieved pain and depression.

He gave it a shot, realizing that he held abundances of pain and depression and finding the concept of creating pain to stop pain interesting. He immediately found himself addicted to the sharp pain of the slick blade sliding across his wrists and the way the air chilled the blood that appeared, making his toes tingle and his eyes water. Sometimes, he got out of control and found himself cutting a half inch deep, four inches long into his wrist and standing in a small pool of his own blood.

That didn't stop him though, the pain was too invigorating. But Huey finding out has always scared him the most. Huey would be disappointed, for sure, and appalled that something so barbaric was committed by his own flesh and blood. What his grandfather would say meant less to him than the dirt of his shoe, but Huey? Oh, Huey…

The bedroom door swung open and Huey began to walk into the room. Riley jumped from his reverie, quickly throwing his wristbands to the side and slipping into his long sleeved shirt.

Riley's chocolate brown eyes were the first thing Huey noticed, swimming with emotion and slightly hazy from sleep, sunshine filling them with light and warmth. No matter the amount of light in his eyes, Huey could tell his brother was stressing.

The second was his hair, the cornrows slightly disheveled and little strands of hair poking out here and there. The third was Riley's skin, illuminated and glowing from the sunlight, baby smooth and silky looking. Maybe it's as soft as it looks… Huey thought idly. The last thing he observed was his brother's hasty attempt at throwing on a long sleeved shirt before he walked into the room completely. He saw Riley tossing away his basketball wristbands in the process, which was strange to Huey because he noticed that if Riley wasn't wearing a tank top with those damned basketball wristbands, then he was wearing a long sleeved T-shirt, or a sweatshirt.

Huey looked at him with widened eyes while Riley stared up at him guiltily. Huey stood there for a minute. His brother definitely had something he was hiding. A new tattoo, maybe? Or a love bite from a lover? A flare of jealousy consumed Huey's thoughts and his eyes burned with fury. A lover? Nobody would ever be good enough for his angel, not a single damn-… angel? Huey stunned himself into a momentary silence. What was he thinking? His little brother, his angel? Huey shook his head, trying to expel the thoughts that bombarded his brain. Since when did he consider Riley an angel? Riley was anything and everything but!

Riley lowered his head, frightened at the sudden changes of his brother's mood. Huey noticed the way Riley was fidgeting with the ends of his sleeves, no doubt nervous. Huey cleared his throat, shoving his thoughts to the recesses of his mind.

"How did you sleep last night, after your nightmare?" Huey questioned, his eternal scowl locked back into place. Riley lifted his head, playing with his sleeves.

" Jus' fine, din' even dream."

Huey's eyes twitched when Riley began to rub his arm slowly. There was an emotion in his eyes, but Huey couldn't pinpoint it. Longing, regret, guilt, love…? Which one could it be?

"Why are you up so early?" Huey asked, not even realizing that it should have been the first thing he noticed when he walked in the room. Riley smirked lightly, continuing to rub his arms slowly.

"I dunno… jus'… woke up, I guess. I feel better, tho', thanks for lettin' me… sleep with ya, Huey," Riley stammered, lightly rubbing circles on his arms. Huey shivered, his eyes closing briefly, a vision of his brother under him, his lithe body framed by moonlight and satin sheets. His arms were positioned above him, his legs spread slightly. He lay naked and panting, a blush on his cheeks and Huey's cum on his chin, "Thanks for lettin' me… Sleep with ya…"

Huey sputtered, hiding the slight blush that he knew was on his cheeks.

"I gotta go," he said quickly before his fast footsteps echoed down the hallway. The sound of a bathroom door being slammed told Riley the story.

"I guess when a man's gotta take a piss…" He left the rest unsaid.

Riley clambered down the stairs and into the kitchen. Waving good morning to his grandfather who was stunned to see him out of bed at 6:30 in the morning.

"Boy, why you ain't sleepin'? What the hells wrong witchu? You sick?" Granddad said, feeling his forehead. Riley smacked his hand away, grabbing his and Huey's container of orange juice.

"Nah, I ain't sick. Lemme alone, jeez. I can't wake up when I wanna? You gotta be a Hitler mo'fucker bout' when I wake my ass up in the mornin', or what?" Riley said, grabbing a glass out of the cabinet.

"Boy, watch yo' mouth," Granddad chastised, but was so used to his 16-year old grandson's dirty mouth that no punishment came with the scolding.

Riley sat at the table, drinking his orange juice in one go. He rested his head in his palms and sighed heavily, wondering what he was going to do about Huey. Should he just confess? Or should he just shoulder the dark burden for his remaining life? He felt that by not telling Huey about what has been wrong with him was lying to him, and betraying him.

Just a little chapter… Tell me how you like. I feel like I'm rushing it, which I don't want to do but I'm so excited to get it where it's going that I find myself not caring :/ I just don't have the time anymore for this until the weekends because of school, which has turned into an ALL International Bachelorette (IB) school! Fuck me! When a break comes up you guys will know it because of my improvement in writing skills and plots and such, haha. R&R *peace*