it's never been like that, rhys/josh, r
Why is that whenever I have a big list of things to write (half of them already started) I always end up writing some random other thing before any of them? Ah well. Hollyoaks fic!
Title: it's never been like that
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Rhys/Josh
Rating: R
Warnings: Incest
Summary: Rhys and Josh begin to use each other as a coping mechanism while Hannah is in hospital. Unfortunately, it means more to one than it does to the other.
A/N: It sort of switches regularly between each one's point of view, but hopefully that's clear enough.
It starts at five to three in the morning on Sunday. Hannah's been in hospital for a few days now. Rhys comes down the stairs, blearily, still half-asleep and gripping the banister for support. It's the third night in a row he's had his sleep broken by nightmares, always about Hannah, gaunt and grey in her hospital bed and calling out for help. And he's always somewhere else, standing in one of the hospital's endless bright white corridors, chatting up some nurse, when he hears her screaming. And even though he runs as fast as he can, he always gets there too late, just in time to see the doctors dispersing from her bed and all of the machines being switched off.
He swallows and takes a deep breath, stepping off the last stair and heading towards the kitchen. It surprises him to see a dark shape sitting at the dining table. At first he thinks it's Mum, guessing from the telltale sounds of muffled crying. (He's been hearing them a lot lately, coming from her room as he passes by.)
It's not her, though. It's Josh, sitting hunched over with his knees pressed to his chest, a steaming mug and a pile of tissues on the table in front of him. He barely looks up when Rhys says his name. Rhys slides into the chair next to him, rubbing his eyes and blinking at his brother in the darkness.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asks, his voice rough, and Josh nods.
There is a silence, and Rhys doesn't know what to say. He finds himself looking at his brother's legs-his smooth, pale thighs where his boxers end, his knobbly knees, the soft, dark hair on his calves. Josh shifts on the chair, toes wiggling, and Rhys averts his eyes, peering at the apparently-forgotten mug in front of them.
"Warm milk," Josh tells him, smiling wryly with his chapped lips and red eyes. "Mum always said it works wonders, but it tastes like shit."
Rhys laughs, and a few moments pass. "I couldn't either," he says quietly. "Keep dreaming about Hannah."
It's meant to come out casually, but it doesn't, not really, and Josh tilts his head to look at him, nodding and sympathetic.
"Yeah," he says. He nestles his chin in the slight dip between his knees, hands down by his feet, fingers picking at his toenails. "D-do you think she'll be okay?"
Rhys waits a beat too long, and knows whatever he says now won't be as reassuring as it should. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah...'course she will."
Josh doesn't respond. Rhys listens to the ticking of the clock. He wishes there was something he could say to make it better, something to stop Josh worrying, but how can he try and comfort somebody else when he can't even comfort himself?
"Can I have some?" he asks, gesturing to the milk.
"Be my guest," Josh says, making a face.
Rhys smirks and lifts the mug, taking a slow sip. He grimaces. "Well, it's too hot, for one thing," he says, putting it back down. "Think I burnt my tongue. It's called warm milk for a reason."
Josh rolls his eyes. "Whatever. It's still disgusting." Then he turns to look at Rhys and a smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. "You've got a milk moustache."
Rhys wipes his top lip with his thumb, but Josh is still grinning. Rhys wipes it again and Josh sighs loudly.
He turns round in the chair and leans forward. Perhaps in ordinary circumstances Rhys would recoil, bat his brother's hand away, make some comment about personal space, but he's tired and, really, he doesn't care, so he just juts out his chin.
Josh leans closer, maybe closer than he needs to, and presses his fingertip to the corner of Rhys's mouth. He leans closer still. Rhys can smell him-milky, sleepy, warm-and his lips part, seemingly of their own accord. The ticking of the clock seems to get louder in their shared silence.
Rhys says some syllable, some part of a word, and it shocks Josh away. His hand snaps back towards his body, and Rhys clears his throat.
"I'm going back to bed," he says hoarsely, and does.
***
It continues. It's a Tuesday afternoon, and Mum wants them all to go and visit Hannah again. Everyone goes off to get ready, but after nearly five minutes of crying in his room, Josh goes to find Rhys because he doesn't know what else to do. He needs someone to talk to. He doesn't want to go visit Hannah, he really really doesn't. He wishes he could be strong about it, wishes Rhys could teach him how. But it's all too hard.
Rhys is texting someone when he goes up to hover in his doorway. Little Miss Lovely, probably. He knows he's got a girl on the go at the moment, however good he may think he is at hiding it. When Rhys sees him, he tosses the phone aside and pats the bed, indicating that he wants Josh to sit down.
He asks him if he's been crying, and Josh denies it. Crying's all he seems to do when he's on his own lately. He can't help it.
"You have," Rhys insists, but his voice is softer, full of sympathy.
Josh feels the tears beginning to sting the corners of his eyes again and tries to blink them away.
"She's going to get better," Rhys says firmly. "You know that, don't you?"
Josh covers his face with his hands as he feels the tears start to spill over.
"C'mere," Rhys murmurs but Josh doesn't move, and then suddenly he's being pulled into a fierce hug. He hears Rhys suck in a shaky breath and he knows he's close to tears as well, and somehow it's easier.
They stay that way for a few moments. Josh feels a tear run down his cheek, but he doesn't wipe it away.
"She'll get better," Rhys says again, almost angrily. "You know that, don't you?"
He pulls away, and holds Josh at arms' length. Josh stares. He feels a sudden surge of love for his brother, a sudden feeling of gratitude towards him. It's not a feeling he's familiar with, and perhaps he misinterprets it, or perhaps he's just caught up in the moment, or perhaps he's just tired and sad and lonely and he needs somebody who understands. He wraps his arms around Rhys's waist.
And then he kisses him.
He regrets it even as he does it, his brain demanding to know what the hell he thinks he's doing. Rhys doesn't move right away, but he doesn't kiss back either, and it's only a matter of seconds before he's grabbing Josh by the shoulders and pushing him away. He moves back, eyes wide with shock, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
Josh stares. "Oh-fuck-I-" he stammers. "Rhys-fuck-I'm sorry, I don't know what-"
"You are sick," Rhys spits out, shaking his head incredulously.
"I know, I just-" Josh begins, then realises he has no explanation, no reason, no excuse. "I'm sorry."
"Boys?"
Both of them whip their heads round to the door, realising only now that it's still open. Mum's standing in the doorway, a look of quiet concern upon her face.
"Is everything all right? Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah," Josh says hurriedly, standing up. "We were just-"
"Yeah, let's go," Rhys speaks over him, walking out of the room without looking back.
***
It continues further in the hospital toilets, later that day. Josh has escaped to them while Dad is in talking to Hannah. Rhys ignored him completely in the car on the way, staring blankly out the window and watching the streets go by. Mum asked if they had a fight, and Rhys didn't answer, leaving Josh to go with a tight-lipped smile and a "No, we're fine."
He goes to the sink and turns on the tap full-blast, splashing his face with the cool water. He doesn't hear Rhys enter, but instead sees him in the reflection in the mirror, standing behind him with his arms crossed and his foot tapping.
Josh turns off the tap. "Rhys, about earlier-"
"Don't," Rhys interrupts.
His voice is angry, and Josh feels scared already-what if he's told Mum and Dad, or what if he's planning to? He stares at his brother's reflection nervously.
"We're not going to talk about it," says Rhys firmly.
"Yeah," says Josh, turning around and leaning against the cold metal rim of the sink. "Yeah, it's probably best we just pretend it didn't happen."
Even as he speaks he feels his heart sink, and he hates it for that. What is there to be upset about? Why should he care? He made a huge mistake, he did something disgusting and wrong and he didn't even know what possessed him to do it.
"That's not what I meant," Rhys says suddenly, bringing him out of his thoughts.
"What?"
Rhys exhales loudly, tapping his foot restlessly against the sparkly linoleum of the floor. He looks down, covering his mouth with his hand, then, all of a sudden, lunges forward at Josh.
Josh feels his heart leap into his throat, and, terrified, he leaps back. For a moment he really thinks Rhys is going to kill him-he's never seen that look in his brother's eyes before. He looks wild and out of control.
Rhys shoves him into the space between the two sinks, making him crack his head against the mirror, and smashes their mouths together fiercely. For a moment Josh is too stunned to react, but he gathers his senses and parts his lips and sighs into his brother's mouth and-
-lets it happen.
***
It's awful to blame Hannah, but they both do. Neither of them can deny her involvement, however indirect it was. None of this would have started if she hadn't gotten ill.
So Hannah becomes their explanation, their reason.
Their excuse.
***
"It's just because of Hannah, that's all," he tells Josh angrily the next day. Josh has come home to find him sitting on Hannah's bed, one of her stuffed toys in his hands and tears in his eyes.
"I know," Josh says. He dumps his school bag on the floor outside the door and then hesitates. "Can I come in?"
"It's not my room," Rhys sneers. "Do what you like."
Josh enters, then sits down next to Rhys on the bed. Rhys looks in the opposite direction. He doesn't want to look him in the eye.
"We're just upset," he says quietly. "And-and it's a confusing time, for the whole family. So we're only-"
"I thought you said we weren't going to talk about it," Josh cuts in.
"Yeah? All right then."
Rhys turns round to face him, and Josh looks back at him carefully, studying his face. Rhys would hate to think of himself as the initiator, so it actually works out quite well that this time they go for each other at the exact same second, grabbing at each other simultaneously, lips meeting, hands fisting in fabric of t-shirts.
Rhys feels his trousers beginning to get tighter. At first he tries to hide the growing bulge there, but then he thinks fuck it and lets his legs fall open slightly. Josh's hand skims, trembling, over his crotch. Rhys's eyes flicker open, then closed again, and he registers lilac walls and stuffed toys and glittery photo frames and he pulls away.
"Not in here."
"Where are Mum and Dad?"
"Work."
A pause. Josh bites his lip.
"My room," says Rhys.
***
It's odd, Josh knows that, but he really doesn't sicken himself. Even with his hands down his brother's trousers and their mouths barely breaking for breath, he doesn't sicken himself. Maybe Rhys has never felt like a brother to him anyway. Maybe he has, but he just doesn't right now. Whatever it is, it doesn't sicken him.
He does get a little worried, though, when wanking Rhys off starts to feel just as comfortable and familiar as wanking himself off. But it feels too good to worry about it too much.
Maybe Amy could've given him this, but with Rhys it seems so much better. Rhys knows what he's going through, he's in the exact same place, and it's what he needs-someone else's fingers on his skin, someone else's tongue in his mouth...someone else's fist around his cock.
Somehow it makes him forget about Hannah for just a little bit.
***
Beth is different. Rhys still sees her. Josh has no effect on that, and he isn't even on his mind when he's with her.
She's a girl-a beautiful, funny, sexy, smart girl-and they've got so much in common that he thinks it can only end well.
A voice in his head nags, and what about Josh? and he answers, yeah, what about Josh?
Josh is just his brother.
Beth is the start of something, he can feel it in his bones.
***
It's Dad's birthday, and Josh doesn't want to see Hannah again. It doesn't come as a surprise to him but it makes him feel like shit. He goes to Rhys's room almost automatically, needing words of comfort, needing sympathy and understanding. And when's that ever been something that Rhys is good at?
Never, really, not even now. He notices the way Rhys stumbles over his words and pauses before reassurance, and he knows how hard he's trying, how much he wants to be a Good Big Brother and help out and make things better. And his heart breaks for him, just a little bit, because he knows that it'll never be like that. It's never been like that. The only way Rhys can make things better is with his head between Josh's legs and his mouth working on him until he comes-always too quickly, but it never matters because there's nothing to hold out for.
Mum interrupts them in the middle of their awkward heart-to-heart, and Josh trudges past her resignedly, knowing he's got to go see Hannah and he's got no choice. Rhys presses his hand to his back when they reach the hallway, fingers splayed out, and Josh shrugs out of the way. He doesn't want Mum to see.
***
Dad's in the bath and Mum's cooking dinner when Josh ventures out of his bedroom, treading quietly down the hall towards Rhys's room. The door's open, as it's stayed for the past month or so, an invitation for Josh to enter at any time of the day or night. He peers in. Rhys is sitting at his drums but not playing them, just staring straight ahead.
"Rhys..." he says softly, but Rhys doesn't turn around. "Rhys, are you okay?"
"Did you see her today?" Rhys spits out. "Did you see how she looked?"
"I know," Josh says quietly. He doesn't want the conversation to go this way. Rhys isn't supposed to be the one who talks about Hannah, worries aloud about her. He's supposed to say things like it's going to be all right and she'll pull through.
He goes towards his brother and places his hand on his shoulder, making him turn around. Josh hesitates then leans down, heart pounding in his chest as he presses his lips to Rhys's.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Josh," Rhys sighs. "Don't."
Josh steps back, hurt.
"I'm not in the mood," Rhys says, turning away from him again.
Josh waits a moment, then leaves, heart aching. As he goes back to his room he hears Rhys beginning to play the drums, a relentless hammering beat that rings through his head.
Rhys seems happy enough at dinner, letting Mum tease him about his new girlfriend, and Josh tries to play along, but his heart's not quite in it. When the phone rings he doesn't really give it a second thought, but the look on Dad's face after he hangs up scares him.
It's not about Hannah. It's about Noel; he's dead.
***
Josh keeps nagging at Rhys to go to the wake. Rhys kisses him just to make him shut up and it seems to work, gives them a distraction from the real important issues like always.
They struggle, grabbing and clutching at each other, yanking clothes out of the way, Rhys pressing Josh up against the wall. Josh starts to cry, but Rhys is used to this by now, and he follows the tear tracks with his tongue, muttering shut up, shut up when Josh starts to whimper.
"You've got to go to the wake," Josh says afterwards, not giving up as they lie on Rhys's bed, half-naked and sweaty and completely tired out.
"Fine," Rhys snaps, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed. "Fine. We'll go."
***
Beth's his half-sister.
Nothing could have prepared him for such a shock, and he has no clue how to deal with it.
He settles for ignoring her, then getting drunk, then shouting at her, then bursting into tears.
His world's falling apart for what feels like the fiftieth time.
***
For all of the following week, Rhys refuses to touch Josh at all. Josh is utterly lost and he hates that, but there isn't anything he can do. He keeps trying to help (and that seems to be what he spends his whole life doing-trying to help and always fucking up) but Rhys is vicious and bitter and lashes out at him whenever he gets too close.
Beth's nice, he likes her a lot. He thinks he understands Rhys's shock, but there's no need to be rude to her, really, and he hopes they'll get through it.
In the meantime it seems all he can do is sit around and wait for Rhys to come back to his senses.
He stops approaching him after a while, because there's little point.
***
Rhys would've felt better about it if the break they took had lasted forever, maybe. It was nice of Josh to give him space, but maybe it would've been nicer if he hadn't come back eventually, offering a cup of tea and asking if he wanted to talk. And it wasn't his fault, really, because Josh was the one that leaned in, tentatively, taking the teacup out of his hand to set it down on the table before kissing him softly on the mouth. He didn't do that.
He did give in to it, though. And he wouldn't even have had a chance to, if Josh hadn't come back. Because he wasn't the initiator, except for one or two times when he was feeling that aching in his chest and the throbbing in his head and he just needed it to go away and he knew just how to make that happen.
So they kissed. And Josh murmured, I missed this, and Rhys felt that it was unfair, so the next day, he told Josh about Beth.
And he never expected Josh to understand, so it's no surprise that's he's here yelling now, shouting and demanding answers.
"What's the difference between me and her?" he wants to know.
Rhys isn't sure if he understands the question. He thinks what Josh is probably asking is something along the lines of why's it make you sick that you fucked her, but you continue to do whatever you like with me? And really, Josh shouldn't care. He got the better half of the deal, surely? Beth's the one worse off, the one he can't stand to look at, the one who makes him want to throw up when he thinks about her.
But the amount of blood they share? And the amount of blood he and Josh share?
It's the same.
***
Beth becomes more of a part of the family. It's gradual, but it happens. And Josh is pleased to see her and Rhys getting on. He knew they would eventually, it'd just take time.
Hannah starts to get better, a lot better, and the more she recovers, the less reason Josh has to go looking for sympathy from Rhys.
He hates himself for it, but he starts faking. He lies and exaggerates. He invents irrational, paranoid fears about Hannah's future, about their whole future as a family. But Rhys is getting steadily happier and happier, and Hannah's going to be let out of hospital any day now, and for the most part, Josh finds himself staying in his own room.
***
It ends on a Monday afternoon. Josh comes home from school and goes upstairs to find Rhys's door closed for the first time since their 'break'.
He tiptoes along the hallway, somehow instinctively knowing he has to be quiet, knowing something's going on and it's not quite right. He kicks off his shoes and leaps to the other side of the door, knowing where the creak in the floorboards is after such a long time of having to avoid it when sneaking in during the night.
He presses his ear to the door. The first thing he hears is Rhys's voice, throaty and low and indistinct, and then the sound of a girl laughing. His heart sinks.
He knew Rhys would find another girlfriend. He knew, even, that Rhys had still been dating Beth when things had started between the two of them, but somehow it's different now. For some reason he stays a moment longer. Rhys's voice gets suddenly louder.
"I'm serious, Beth, what time is it?"
Josh brightens up for a moment. It's only Beth. There's still hope. He turns around, bending down to pick up his shoes, ready to head back to his room. And then the voices come again.
"Josh is going to be home in a minute, if he comes in when we're-"
"Okay, okay, I'm getting dressed!"
Josh freezes. No, he thinks. No, he can't have heard right.
"Rhys! Give them back!" Beth shrieks from the other side of the door, and Josh's heart begins to thud louder in his ears. "I didn't know you were the creepy, knicker-stealing stalker type!"
Josh presses his hand tightly over his mouth and almost runs back to his room, shutting the door quietly before throwing himself face-down onto the bed. The next few minutes feel like hours. Eventually he hears Rhys's door open, and the creak of the floorboards as the two of them leave. He hears them kissing and saying their goodbyes before Beth hurries downstairs and out the front door. He hears Rhys turn around at the top of the stairs, and waits for the sound of the floorboards again. But it doesn't come.
Instead, he hears the sound of his own door opening, and he jumps up.
Rhys looks stricken. "You're-you're home already."
Josh realises then that his door had been open before he'd come in. "Yeah," he says.
"I was just-"
"Rhys, don't bother. I heard you and Beth."
"We were-"
"Rhys, don't bother," Josh snaps. He feels his cheeks burn. He is immediately angered, by the expression on Rhys's face, by his air of fake concern.
"I'm sorry, Josh," Rhys says, not sounding sorry at all. "It just-it just happened again. God, I know, it's awful, and we kept trying to stop ourselves but-well, you know how it is-"
"I guess I do."
There is a long, awkward silence. Josh looks up cautiously.
"So you're going to stay with her?" he asks.
Rhys opens his mouth, then shuts it again. He swallows, frowns, shoves his hands in his pockets, and looks at the floor. "I-I guess so."
"But she's related to you," Josh tries first.
"Hypocrite," Rhys snorts. "And what are you?"
"But it's wrong." Josh knows it's useless, knows it's completely stupid.
"Oh, and what we were doing was just saintly, was it?"
Josh feels his eyes sting as he thinks ahead, realising the full meaning of all of this and knowing he'll never get to be with Rhys again. He'll never get to feel Rhys's lips against his skin again, never get to feel his hands running all over his body. He'll never get to see that face Rhys makes, again, the one he does when he's about to come, squeezing his eyes shut and opening his mouth in a silent moan. He'll never get to touch him again, touch him properly like probably hundreds of girls have, and know that somehow it means more because they're so much closer.
But it didn't mean more. It never meant more. For Rhys, he was obviously just an escape tactic, a distraction, something to take his mind off things. He tries to think back to the time when Rhys was exactly the same thing to him, but it feels like so long ago. When did his feelings expand, magnify, blow up out of control like this? How did he let things get this way?
"But Rhys...I love you," Josh sobs brokenly, suddenly feeling his emotions spill over, the tears already running down his flushed cheeks.
"Yeah, and I love you too, you know that," Rhys says, stepping forward and ruffling his brother's hair.
"You know what I mean!" Josh says, a tinge of anger back in his voice. "I think I've...I think I've fallen in love with you."
"Oh, fuck, Josh," Rhys hisses through gritted teeth, pulling away from him. "Don't do that. It's not like that."
Josh sinks back down onto the bed, his head in his hands. Rhys stares, then, with a loud sigh, turns and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.
***
For a moment, Rhys falters. He leans against the door, still hearing Josh's sobbing coming from within. Something tugs at his heart, nags at his brain, but he scolds it. He shakes his head.
No, he tells himself firmly. No. It's never been like that.
Title: it's never been like that
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Rhys/Josh
Rating: R
Warnings: Incest
Summary: Rhys and Josh begin to use each other as a coping mechanism while Hannah is in hospital. Unfortunately, it means more to one than it does to the other.
A/N: It sort of switches regularly between each one's point of view, but hopefully that's clear enough.
It starts at five to three in the morning on Sunday. Hannah's been in hospital for a few days now. Rhys comes down the stairs, blearily, still half-asleep and gripping the banister for support. It's the third night in a row he's had his sleep broken by nightmares, always about Hannah, gaunt and grey in her hospital bed and calling out for help. And he's always somewhere else, standing in one of the hospital's endless bright white corridors, chatting up some nurse, when he hears her screaming. And even though he runs as fast as he can, he always gets there too late, just in time to see the doctors dispersing from her bed and all of the machines being switched off.
He swallows and takes a deep breath, stepping off the last stair and heading towards the kitchen. It surprises him to see a dark shape sitting at the dining table. At first he thinks it's Mum, guessing from the telltale sounds of muffled crying. (He's been hearing them a lot lately, coming from her room as he passes by.)
It's not her, though. It's Josh, sitting hunched over with his knees pressed to his chest, a steaming mug and a pile of tissues on the table in front of him. He barely looks up when Rhys says his name. Rhys slides into the chair next to him, rubbing his eyes and blinking at his brother in the darkness.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asks, his voice rough, and Josh nods.
There is a silence, and Rhys doesn't know what to say. He finds himself looking at his brother's legs-his smooth, pale thighs where his boxers end, his knobbly knees, the soft, dark hair on his calves. Josh shifts on the chair, toes wiggling, and Rhys averts his eyes, peering at the apparently-forgotten mug in front of them.
"Warm milk," Josh tells him, smiling wryly with his chapped lips and red eyes. "Mum always said it works wonders, but it tastes like shit."
Rhys laughs, and a few moments pass. "I couldn't either," he says quietly. "Keep dreaming about Hannah."
It's meant to come out casually, but it doesn't, not really, and Josh tilts his head to look at him, nodding and sympathetic.
"Yeah," he says. He nestles his chin in the slight dip between his knees, hands down by his feet, fingers picking at his toenails. "D-do you think she'll be okay?"
Rhys waits a beat too long, and knows whatever he says now won't be as reassuring as it should. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah...'course she will."
Josh doesn't respond. Rhys listens to the ticking of the clock. He wishes there was something he could say to make it better, something to stop Josh worrying, but how can he try and comfort somebody else when he can't even comfort himself?
"Can I have some?" he asks, gesturing to the milk.
"Be my guest," Josh says, making a face.
Rhys smirks and lifts the mug, taking a slow sip. He grimaces. "Well, it's too hot, for one thing," he says, putting it back down. "Think I burnt my tongue. It's called warm milk for a reason."
Josh rolls his eyes. "Whatever. It's still disgusting." Then he turns to look at Rhys and a smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. "You've got a milk moustache."
Rhys wipes his top lip with his thumb, but Josh is still grinning. Rhys wipes it again and Josh sighs loudly.
He turns round in the chair and leans forward. Perhaps in ordinary circumstances Rhys would recoil, bat his brother's hand away, make some comment about personal space, but he's tired and, really, he doesn't care, so he just juts out his chin.
Josh leans closer, maybe closer than he needs to, and presses his fingertip to the corner of Rhys's mouth. He leans closer still. Rhys can smell him-milky, sleepy, warm-and his lips part, seemingly of their own accord. The ticking of the clock seems to get louder in their shared silence.
Rhys says some syllable, some part of a word, and it shocks Josh away. His hand snaps back towards his body, and Rhys clears his throat.
"I'm going back to bed," he says hoarsely, and does.
***
It continues. It's a Tuesday afternoon, and Mum wants them all to go and visit Hannah again. Everyone goes off to get ready, but after nearly five minutes of crying in his room, Josh goes to find Rhys because he doesn't know what else to do. He needs someone to talk to. He doesn't want to go visit Hannah, he really really doesn't. He wishes he could be strong about it, wishes Rhys could teach him how. But it's all too hard.
Rhys is texting someone when he goes up to hover in his doorway. Little Miss Lovely, probably. He knows he's got a girl on the go at the moment, however good he may think he is at hiding it. When Rhys sees him, he tosses the phone aside and pats the bed, indicating that he wants Josh to sit down.
He asks him if he's been crying, and Josh denies it. Crying's all he seems to do when he's on his own lately. He can't help it.
"You have," Rhys insists, but his voice is softer, full of sympathy.
Josh feels the tears beginning to sting the corners of his eyes again and tries to blink them away.
"She's going to get better," Rhys says firmly. "You know that, don't you?"
Josh covers his face with his hands as he feels the tears start to spill over.
"C'mere," Rhys murmurs but Josh doesn't move, and then suddenly he's being pulled into a fierce hug. He hears Rhys suck in a shaky breath and he knows he's close to tears as well, and somehow it's easier.
They stay that way for a few moments. Josh feels a tear run down his cheek, but he doesn't wipe it away.
"She'll get better," Rhys says again, almost angrily. "You know that, don't you?"
He pulls away, and holds Josh at arms' length. Josh stares. He feels a sudden surge of love for his brother, a sudden feeling of gratitude towards him. It's not a feeling he's familiar with, and perhaps he misinterprets it, or perhaps he's just caught up in the moment, or perhaps he's just tired and sad and lonely and he needs somebody who understands. He wraps his arms around Rhys's waist.
And then he kisses him.
He regrets it even as he does it, his brain demanding to know what the hell he thinks he's doing. Rhys doesn't move right away, but he doesn't kiss back either, and it's only a matter of seconds before he's grabbing Josh by the shoulders and pushing him away. He moves back, eyes wide with shock, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
Josh stares. "Oh-fuck-I-" he stammers. "Rhys-fuck-I'm sorry, I don't know what-"
"You are sick," Rhys spits out, shaking his head incredulously.
"I know, I just-" Josh begins, then realises he has no explanation, no reason, no excuse. "I'm sorry."
"Boys?"
Both of them whip their heads round to the door, realising only now that it's still open. Mum's standing in the doorway, a look of quiet concern upon her face.
"Is everything all right? Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah," Josh says hurriedly, standing up. "We were just-"
"Yeah, let's go," Rhys speaks over him, walking out of the room without looking back.
***
It continues further in the hospital toilets, later that day. Josh has escaped to them while Dad is in talking to Hannah. Rhys ignored him completely in the car on the way, staring blankly out the window and watching the streets go by. Mum asked if they had a fight, and Rhys didn't answer, leaving Josh to go with a tight-lipped smile and a "No, we're fine."
He goes to the sink and turns on the tap full-blast, splashing his face with the cool water. He doesn't hear Rhys enter, but instead sees him in the reflection in the mirror, standing behind him with his arms crossed and his foot tapping.
Josh turns off the tap. "Rhys, about earlier-"
"Don't," Rhys interrupts.
His voice is angry, and Josh feels scared already-what if he's told Mum and Dad, or what if he's planning to? He stares at his brother's reflection nervously.
"We're not going to talk about it," says Rhys firmly.
"Yeah," says Josh, turning around and leaning against the cold metal rim of the sink. "Yeah, it's probably best we just pretend it didn't happen."
Even as he speaks he feels his heart sink, and he hates it for that. What is there to be upset about? Why should he care? He made a huge mistake, he did something disgusting and wrong and he didn't even know what possessed him to do it.
"That's not what I meant," Rhys says suddenly, bringing him out of his thoughts.
"What?"
Rhys exhales loudly, tapping his foot restlessly against the sparkly linoleum of the floor. He looks down, covering his mouth with his hand, then, all of a sudden, lunges forward at Josh.
Josh feels his heart leap into his throat, and, terrified, he leaps back. For a moment he really thinks Rhys is going to kill him-he's never seen that look in his brother's eyes before. He looks wild and out of control.
Rhys shoves him into the space between the two sinks, making him crack his head against the mirror, and smashes their mouths together fiercely. For a moment Josh is too stunned to react, but he gathers his senses and parts his lips and sighs into his brother's mouth and-
-lets it happen.
***
It's awful to blame Hannah, but they both do. Neither of them can deny her involvement, however indirect it was. None of this would have started if she hadn't gotten ill.
So Hannah becomes their explanation, their reason.
Their excuse.
***
"It's just because of Hannah, that's all," he tells Josh angrily the next day. Josh has come home to find him sitting on Hannah's bed, one of her stuffed toys in his hands and tears in his eyes.
"I know," Josh says. He dumps his school bag on the floor outside the door and then hesitates. "Can I come in?"
"It's not my room," Rhys sneers. "Do what you like."
Josh enters, then sits down next to Rhys on the bed. Rhys looks in the opposite direction. He doesn't want to look him in the eye.
"We're just upset," he says quietly. "And-and it's a confusing time, for the whole family. So we're only-"
"I thought you said we weren't going to talk about it," Josh cuts in.
"Yeah? All right then."
Rhys turns round to face him, and Josh looks back at him carefully, studying his face. Rhys would hate to think of himself as the initiator, so it actually works out quite well that this time they go for each other at the exact same second, grabbing at each other simultaneously, lips meeting, hands fisting in fabric of t-shirts.
Rhys feels his trousers beginning to get tighter. At first he tries to hide the growing bulge there, but then he thinks fuck it and lets his legs fall open slightly. Josh's hand skims, trembling, over his crotch. Rhys's eyes flicker open, then closed again, and he registers lilac walls and stuffed toys and glittery photo frames and he pulls away.
"Not in here."
"Where are Mum and Dad?"
"Work."
A pause. Josh bites his lip.
"My room," says Rhys.
***
It's odd, Josh knows that, but he really doesn't sicken himself. Even with his hands down his brother's trousers and their mouths barely breaking for breath, he doesn't sicken himself. Maybe Rhys has never felt like a brother to him anyway. Maybe he has, but he just doesn't right now. Whatever it is, it doesn't sicken him.
He does get a little worried, though, when wanking Rhys off starts to feel just as comfortable and familiar as wanking himself off. But it feels too good to worry about it too much.
Maybe Amy could've given him this, but with Rhys it seems so much better. Rhys knows what he's going through, he's in the exact same place, and it's what he needs-someone else's fingers on his skin, someone else's tongue in his mouth...someone else's fist around his cock.
Somehow it makes him forget about Hannah for just a little bit.
***
Beth is different. Rhys still sees her. Josh has no effect on that, and he isn't even on his mind when he's with her.
She's a girl-a beautiful, funny, sexy, smart girl-and they've got so much in common that he thinks it can only end well.
A voice in his head nags, and what about Josh? and he answers, yeah, what about Josh?
Josh is just his brother.
Beth is the start of something, he can feel it in his bones.
***
It's Dad's birthday, and Josh doesn't want to see Hannah again. It doesn't come as a surprise to him but it makes him feel like shit. He goes to Rhys's room almost automatically, needing words of comfort, needing sympathy and understanding. And when's that ever been something that Rhys is good at?
Never, really, not even now. He notices the way Rhys stumbles over his words and pauses before reassurance, and he knows how hard he's trying, how much he wants to be a Good Big Brother and help out and make things better. And his heart breaks for him, just a little bit, because he knows that it'll never be like that. It's never been like that. The only way Rhys can make things better is with his head between Josh's legs and his mouth working on him until he comes-always too quickly, but it never matters because there's nothing to hold out for.
Mum interrupts them in the middle of their awkward heart-to-heart, and Josh trudges past her resignedly, knowing he's got to go see Hannah and he's got no choice. Rhys presses his hand to his back when they reach the hallway, fingers splayed out, and Josh shrugs out of the way. He doesn't want Mum to see.
***
Dad's in the bath and Mum's cooking dinner when Josh ventures out of his bedroom, treading quietly down the hall towards Rhys's room. The door's open, as it's stayed for the past month or so, an invitation for Josh to enter at any time of the day or night. He peers in. Rhys is sitting at his drums but not playing them, just staring straight ahead.
"Rhys..." he says softly, but Rhys doesn't turn around. "Rhys, are you okay?"
"Did you see her today?" Rhys spits out. "Did you see how she looked?"
"I know," Josh says quietly. He doesn't want the conversation to go this way. Rhys isn't supposed to be the one who talks about Hannah, worries aloud about her. He's supposed to say things like it's going to be all right and she'll pull through.
He goes towards his brother and places his hand on his shoulder, making him turn around. Josh hesitates then leans down, heart pounding in his chest as he presses his lips to Rhys's.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Josh," Rhys sighs. "Don't."
Josh steps back, hurt.
"I'm not in the mood," Rhys says, turning away from him again.
Josh waits a moment, then leaves, heart aching. As he goes back to his room he hears Rhys beginning to play the drums, a relentless hammering beat that rings through his head.
Rhys seems happy enough at dinner, letting Mum tease him about his new girlfriend, and Josh tries to play along, but his heart's not quite in it. When the phone rings he doesn't really give it a second thought, but the look on Dad's face after he hangs up scares him.
It's not about Hannah. It's about Noel; he's dead.
***
Josh keeps nagging at Rhys to go to the wake. Rhys kisses him just to make him shut up and it seems to work, gives them a distraction from the real important issues like always.
They struggle, grabbing and clutching at each other, yanking clothes out of the way, Rhys pressing Josh up against the wall. Josh starts to cry, but Rhys is used to this by now, and he follows the tear tracks with his tongue, muttering shut up, shut up when Josh starts to whimper.
"You've got to go to the wake," Josh says afterwards, not giving up as they lie on Rhys's bed, half-naked and sweaty and completely tired out.
"Fine," Rhys snaps, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed. "Fine. We'll go."
***
Beth's his half-sister.
Nothing could have prepared him for such a shock, and he has no clue how to deal with it.
He settles for ignoring her, then getting drunk, then shouting at her, then bursting into tears.
His world's falling apart for what feels like the fiftieth time.
***
For all of the following week, Rhys refuses to touch Josh at all. Josh is utterly lost and he hates that, but there isn't anything he can do. He keeps trying to help (and that seems to be what he spends his whole life doing-trying to help and always fucking up) but Rhys is vicious and bitter and lashes out at him whenever he gets too close.
Beth's nice, he likes her a lot. He thinks he understands Rhys's shock, but there's no need to be rude to her, really, and he hopes they'll get through it.
In the meantime it seems all he can do is sit around and wait for Rhys to come back to his senses.
He stops approaching him after a while, because there's little point.
***
Rhys would've felt better about it if the break they took had lasted forever, maybe. It was nice of Josh to give him space, but maybe it would've been nicer if he hadn't come back eventually, offering a cup of tea and asking if he wanted to talk. And it wasn't his fault, really, because Josh was the one that leaned in, tentatively, taking the teacup out of his hand to set it down on the table before kissing him softly on the mouth. He didn't do that.
He did give in to it, though. And he wouldn't even have had a chance to, if Josh hadn't come back. Because he wasn't the initiator, except for one or two times when he was feeling that aching in his chest and the throbbing in his head and he just needed it to go away and he knew just how to make that happen.
So they kissed. And Josh murmured, I missed this, and Rhys felt that it was unfair, so the next day, he told Josh about Beth.
And he never expected Josh to understand, so it's no surprise that's he's here yelling now, shouting and demanding answers.
"What's the difference between me and her?" he wants to know.
Rhys isn't sure if he understands the question. He thinks what Josh is probably asking is something along the lines of why's it make you sick that you fucked her, but you continue to do whatever you like with me? And really, Josh shouldn't care. He got the better half of the deal, surely? Beth's the one worse off, the one he can't stand to look at, the one who makes him want to throw up when he thinks about her.
But the amount of blood they share? And the amount of blood he and Josh share?
It's the same.
***
Beth becomes more of a part of the family. It's gradual, but it happens. And Josh is pleased to see her and Rhys getting on. He knew they would eventually, it'd just take time.
Hannah starts to get better, a lot better, and the more she recovers, the less reason Josh has to go looking for sympathy from Rhys.
He hates himself for it, but he starts faking. He lies and exaggerates. He invents irrational, paranoid fears about Hannah's future, about their whole future as a family. But Rhys is getting steadily happier and happier, and Hannah's going to be let out of hospital any day now, and for the most part, Josh finds himself staying in his own room.
***
It ends on a Monday afternoon. Josh comes home from school and goes upstairs to find Rhys's door closed for the first time since their 'break'.
He tiptoes along the hallway, somehow instinctively knowing he has to be quiet, knowing something's going on and it's not quite right. He kicks off his shoes and leaps to the other side of the door, knowing where the creak in the floorboards is after such a long time of having to avoid it when sneaking in during the night.
He presses his ear to the door. The first thing he hears is Rhys's voice, throaty and low and indistinct, and then the sound of a girl laughing. His heart sinks.
He knew Rhys would find another girlfriend. He knew, even, that Rhys had still been dating Beth when things had started between the two of them, but somehow it's different now. For some reason he stays a moment longer. Rhys's voice gets suddenly louder.
"I'm serious, Beth, what time is it?"
Josh brightens up for a moment. It's only Beth. There's still hope. He turns around, bending down to pick up his shoes, ready to head back to his room. And then the voices come again.
"Josh is going to be home in a minute, if he comes in when we're-"
"Okay, okay, I'm getting dressed!"
Josh freezes. No, he thinks. No, he can't have heard right.
"Rhys! Give them back!" Beth shrieks from the other side of the door, and Josh's heart begins to thud louder in his ears. "I didn't know you were the creepy, knicker-stealing stalker type!"
Josh presses his hand tightly over his mouth and almost runs back to his room, shutting the door quietly before throwing himself face-down onto the bed. The next few minutes feel like hours. Eventually he hears Rhys's door open, and the creak of the floorboards as the two of them leave. He hears them kissing and saying their goodbyes before Beth hurries downstairs and out the front door. He hears Rhys turn around at the top of the stairs, and waits for the sound of the floorboards again. But it doesn't come.
Instead, he hears the sound of his own door opening, and he jumps up.
Rhys looks stricken. "You're-you're home already."
Josh realises then that his door had been open before he'd come in. "Yeah," he says.
"I was just-"
"Rhys, don't bother. I heard you and Beth."
"We were-"
"Rhys, don't bother," Josh snaps. He feels his cheeks burn. He is immediately angered, by the expression on Rhys's face, by his air of fake concern.
"I'm sorry, Josh," Rhys says, not sounding sorry at all. "It just-it just happened again. God, I know, it's awful, and we kept trying to stop ourselves but-well, you know how it is-"
"I guess I do."
There is a long, awkward silence. Josh looks up cautiously.
"So you're going to stay with her?" he asks.
Rhys opens his mouth, then shuts it again. He swallows, frowns, shoves his hands in his pockets, and looks at the floor. "I-I guess so."
"But she's related to you," Josh tries first.
"Hypocrite," Rhys snorts. "And what are you?"
"But it's wrong." Josh knows it's useless, knows it's completely stupid.
"Oh, and what we were doing was just saintly, was it?"
Josh feels his eyes sting as he thinks ahead, realising the full meaning of all of this and knowing he'll never get to be with Rhys again. He'll never get to feel Rhys's lips against his skin again, never get to feel his hands running all over his body. He'll never get to see that face Rhys makes, again, the one he does when he's about to come, squeezing his eyes shut and opening his mouth in a silent moan. He'll never get to touch him again, touch him properly like probably hundreds of girls have, and know that somehow it means more because they're so much closer.
But it didn't mean more. It never meant more. For Rhys, he was obviously just an escape tactic, a distraction, something to take his mind off things. He tries to think back to the time when Rhys was exactly the same thing to him, but it feels like so long ago. When did his feelings expand, magnify, blow up out of control like this? How did he let things get this way?
"But Rhys...I love you," Josh sobs brokenly, suddenly feeling his emotions spill over, the tears already running down his flushed cheeks.
"Yeah, and I love you too, you know that," Rhys says, stepping forward and ruffling his brother's hair.
"You know what I mean!" Josh says, a tinge of anger back in his voice. "I think I've...I think I've fallen in love with you."
"Oh, fuck, Josh," Rhys hisses through gritted teeth, pulling away from him. "Don't do that. It's not like that."
Josh sinks back down onto the bed, his head in his hands. Rhys stares, then, with a loud sigh, turns and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.
***
For a moment, Rhys falters. He leans against the door, still hearing Josh's sobbing coming from within. Something tugs at his heart, nags at his brain, but he scolds it. He shakes his head.
No, he tells himself firmly. No. It's never been like that.