Riders in the Storm

Perhaps this whole rainy excursion had been a bad idea from the start. Or maybe not. Too soon to tell.

Brandon reached for my chest and lightly tweaked one of my highly visible nipples. I didn't try to stop him. I realized belatedly that my nipples had stiffened really quite obviously at some point. He hadn't teased me about it yet, but he still might.

"This is probably a bad situation," Brandon said.

"Probably," I agreed.

"We should probably stop."

"We should."

I didn't move. Raindrops coursed down my body to where my brother lay beneath me. I was a mess of confused emotions and uncertainty. We didn't have a definite problem. Not yet. And I wasn't sure exactly what kind of problem we'd have even if we did.

After another few moments of waiting to see if anything would happen, I rose off of Brandon. "I'm getting too cold to stay out anyway," I said.

"Go figure."

We tromped soggily back to the house. My enthusiasm had waned, and I was looking forward to some warm, dry clothes. My mind remained awhirl with the question of whether we'd done something terribly stupid, but I didn't think so. Mildly inappropriate, sure, but we'd probably forget about it as soon as something else interesting happened. It was the boredom. That was all.

I didn't get the chance to fully process my thoughts. Mom was waiting for us when we got back inside, arms folded, a carefully neutral expression on her face.

Fuck.

"Do I even want to know?" Mom asked.

I looked at Brandon. He looked at me. No help there.

"We were playing," I said.

"Playing?" Mom said disbelievingly.

"You know. In the rain. For something to do."

"In your underwear?"

"Better than naked, I thought."

Mom rolled her eyes. She produced a pair of towels and handed one each to me and Brandon. "Dry off. Get dressed."

"Were gonna do that anyway," I said a little sulkily.

"Yes, but you didn't have any towels ready, did you?" Mom said. "What were you going to do, drip water all through the house?"

"... maybe."

I started drying myself off. Mom appeared torn about whether or not to say anything more, then decided against it and walked out.

"That could have gone worse," Brandon said.

"Yeah. She could have said something about your dick hanging out."

"Wha-"

Brandon looked down with such a look of concern and embarrassment that I almost felt bad.

"Made ya look."

"Dammit, Allie."

I smirked to myself and kept toweling off.

I didn't want to put my dry clothes on over my wet underwear, but I also didn't have privacy to strip with impunity. Brandon wasn't really paying me any attention, so I turned my back, unhooked my bra, then deftly slid it off, padded myself dry, and slipped my shirt back on. Not deftly enough as it turned out.

"You know I'm still right here," Brandon said.

"Yeah, I do. Just don't look, pervo."

"I'm not. But again, I am literally right here."

"Then close your damn eyes or something."

I didn't even check to see if he was looking as I slid my panties off. At worst, he'd get a flash of my butt. He'd be more embarrassed about it than I would if he was still looking.

Brandon was still standing there in wet boxers as I wrapped up my soggy underwear in my towel, freshly clad in my dry clothes.

"Don't stand there all day," I said. "Get a move on."

"Might as well wait for you to go," he said.

"What, you think I'm gonna peek? As if."

"You never know."

"Uh huh, sure. Whatever."

I left without a backward glance.

Unfortunately, I didn't get very far. Not back to my room as intended. Instead, I was accosted by my parents and 'invited' into the living room with them.

"Allie, dear, I think we need to have a chat," Mom said.

I rolled my eyes. "You don't have to freak out. We were just messing around. Being bored. Doing something a bit goofy."

"Yes," Dad said, looking even more uncomfortable than I felt, "but in your underwear."

"So? Why's that so bad?" I tried to keep my voice level. "I don't know why you guys are so upset about stuff today. So what if me and Brandon were in our underwear? So what if I painted his toes? You guys never used to care about us being 'model children' or whatever."

Mom and Dad exchanged a glance. "It's not really about that," Mom said.

"Is it not? Because it seems like you two have been looking for any excuse to tell us we're doing something wrong."

"It's not that it's wrong exactly," Dad said. His leg bounced nervously.

"We're worried about Brandon," Mom said.

That made me pause. "Uh... why?"

Mom now appeared just as uncomfortable as Dad. She fidgeted with her hands as she spoke. "Because of the way he looks at you, Allie. It's gotten worse since you've both been home this time."

"What?"

"She's right," Dad said. "I don't like it, but... there it is."

"Ok, fine," I said. "But right about what?"

"Allie," Mom said patiently, "your brother has a crush on you."

I stared at both of them for a moment, then burst out laughing. The fact that they both sat straight-faced, practically unblinking just made me laugh harder. "Ok, sure, yeah." I shook my head. "You two have lost it, haven't you?"

"We most certainly haven't," Dad said. "If you-"

"Yeah, no. That's stupid," I said. "It's Brandon. Come on. Find a better excuse. Or, better yet, if you don't want him doing 'girly' shit, just stick with your original sexist line. It's annoying, but at least it makes sense."

"It's not about him doing... girly things. Or whatever," Mom said. "We're worried he's only doing them because you want him to."

"We may not have been doing a good job putting some space between you two," Dad said. "Picking a fight over toenails may not have been our greatest move."

"Yeah right," I said.

Mom sighed. "Just think about it, please. Think about what you ask Brandon to do, and whether he actually wants to, or whether he's only doing it for you. And maybe... maybe try to keep some space between the two of you. If you can. Just for a while."

I folded my arms tightly across my chest. "It bothers me that you're both so serious about this."

"We don't much care for it either," Dad said.

"Yeah, I bet." I shrugged and turned away. "I'ma go be somewhere more sane for a while."

****

Despite my best efforts, my parents' words stuck with me. I returned to the attic lair and lay by the window, staring blindly out at the rain while my mind whirred unabated.

The truly annoying thing was that Mom and Dad clearly believed what they'd told me. They never would have said it otherwise. It sounded ludicrous, and yet...

"I was wondering where you were," I said as I heard someone else climbing the ladder into the attic.

"The power's back on," Brandon said. "I thought I might as well get a shower while I could. A real one."

"Ooh, mister fancypants, too good for standing out in the rain to get clean."

"Yep. That's me." He sat down next to me. "I thought you might come back to civilization. Or at least turn on a light up here. It's getting dark out. Darker, I should say."

I shrugged. "Didn't realize the power was back. Nobody told me."

"Sure. Fair enough."

Brandon sat with his knees pulled close to his chest, arms draped casually across them. He hadn't put socks on, so his painted toes were still freely visible.

"You want me to get the nail polish remover?" I asked.

Brandon looked down at his feet as though only just remembering about his toes. "Oh, uh... hm."

"Very decisive of you."

"Well, like, I don't know. There's no rush."

"I see." I eyed him warily. "So you actually do like it? At least a little?"

Brandon eyed me back even more warily. "I guess? As long as you're not gonna make fun of me about it."

"Hell no. I'm just glad that... actually nevermind."

"Nevermind what?"

I cursed myself silently for slipping up. I really didn't want to repeat anything Mom and Dad had said if they hadn't talked to him about it already. It just felt weird putting the same thoughts in his head as were now floating around mine.

"Nothing. The 'rents just had a stupid theory, is all."

"About what, exactly?"

I sighed and steeled myself. "They thought you were crushing on me, and basically just doing anything I wanted."

I winced as I waited for a reaction, then cautiously peeked through slitted eyes. Brandon was sitting silent and still.

"Well," he said. "I-"

"Oh goddammit."

"I-"

"They're right, aren't they?"

"I just-"

"I mean for fuck's sake. Of all the times for them to be perceptive."

"Allie, would you shut up for half a second?"

I glared at Brandon, but stayed quiet all the same. Mostly I was hoping he'd say something to put me at ease if I gave him the chance. He didn't.

"They're not entirely incorrect," he admitted.

"Dammit."

"But it's not a big deal."

"Not to you maybe."

"No, seriously. I mean, it's just a stupid thing, nothing to worry about. Doesn't have to affect anything."

"It already has."

Brandon looked at me. I turned my head away, staring back out the window. Silence descended, broken only by his fidgeting and shifting.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "I really didn't mean to."

I stayed quiet a moment longer, then sighed loudly. "No, don't be sorry. It's not something you can help."

"You got that right."

"Besides, it mostly just bugs me that they were right. They give some stupid excuse for being shitty, and it turns out not to be an excuse after all."

Brandon smiled ruefully and ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah. Sucks, don't it?"

"Kinda." I studied Brandon; his posture, his expression, the way he was only looking at me from the corner of his eye. "Was the whole underwear rain thing a huge mistake?"

He winced and turned away entirely for a moment, then looked back sheepishly. "I saw an awful lot of you."

"I know. I didn't think it was a big deal. I mean, I saw you too... 'cept it's different."

"It definitely is," he agreed.

I bit my lip, then pressed further, just out of curiousity. "I assume you were totally checking me out the whole time we were out there."

Brandon blushed adorably. "Come on, Allie."

"Well you were, right?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe? More like definitely."

He gave me a funny look. "You sound like you want me to say yes."

I bit back an instinctive denial. Did I want him to say yes? Shit, maybe I did. But why, though?

"Nah, whatever," I said. "Just teasing."

"Uh huh. Sure."

The tension between us dropped slightly, but was still pretty thick. I lay where I was, pretending to be cozier and more comfortable than I actually was. Brandon scratched at non-existent itches and kept looking toward the trapdoor exit from the attic.

"You can go," I said. "The power's back on. You don't have to stay up here with me or anything."

"You don't have to stay either," he said.

"Yeah, but I got the better spot. I don't need to leave."

"Is that right? Are you sure you aren't just hoping I'll leave so you can brood up here by yourself in the dark?"

"Pff, as if. You're the one who needs to brood. I'm not the one with a hot sister to obsess over."

Brandon shook his head. "I never obsessed."

"Never?"

"Mostly never. Never-ish."

"Uh huh."

"Ok, sometimes I did. But I tried really, really hard not to."

"If I let you keep talking, is this just gonna get progressively worse?"

"Only a little."

"I see."

Brandon stared down at his hands, with only occasional glances over at me to gauge my reaction. Every flick of his eyes in my direction made me just slightly more nervous and fluttery in ways I didn't understand. I was pretty sure I still wasn't mad at him or anything, but there was definitely something happening.

"You look good in soaked underwear," he said.

"Dammit, dude."

"Sorry. True though."

"You are just the worst sometimes. I thought we were getting through this."

"We are."

"I'm not convinced." I sat up. "I might go see if the internet's back up."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess maybe..."

I frowned. "Maybe what?"

"Nothing."

"You don't expect us to both continue sitting up here in the dark like cavemen, do you?"

"Well... isn't that what you were going to do?"

"I was going to brood. That's different. Can't brood in pairs. It just isn't done."

"Ah. I see."

I shifted a bit. "So I'm going to go."

"Sure."

"Somewhere else."

"Naturally."

I still didn't leave. I wasn't sure why I was stalling, but I definitely was.

"Or I could stay," I said.

Brandon smiled shyly. "You could."

I really didn't know what the hell I was doing. If he was any other boy who was crushing on me, anyone that I didn't particularly want to feel that way about me, there was no way I would have stayed in a dark, confined area with him any longer than necessary.

But this was Brandon. My brother. It wasn't like that. Or, actually, it kind of was. But still wasn't.

It was complicated.

I lay back down, mentally squirming under the suspicion that I was making the wrong move. Brandon lay next to me on his side. He reached out and set his hand on my tummy. I bit my lip and raised an eyebrow at him.

"You know I didn't say you could do that," I said. "Right?"

"Yeah. I know."

"Ok."

I left his hand where it was. It was making me all fluttery inside. My brother's touch had never done anything like that to me before. But then, I'd never considered that it could. It simply hadn't occurred that it would ever mean anything between us. Not until now. Stupid parents with their stupid warnings.

"You're very warm," Brandon said.

"Oh god." I let out a nervous giggle and pushed his hand away. "You can't say shit like that."

"Why not?"

"'Cause it's dumb. Of course I'm warm. You've got your hand all up on my tummy."

He replaced his palm, though under my shirt this time. "So soft too."

"Dammit, dude."

I turned my head away, but didn't stop him. Admittedly, I was enjoying the illicit attention. I wasn't going to let it go any further or anything, but it was a bit of a naughty thrill to know the sorts of things that were probably going on in my brother's head.

It was crazy to think that he was actually interested in me in that kind of way. Me. His sister. Goddamn. So bad.

Brandon moved his fingers, just a little, just enough for me to notice. I did nothing. His hand started moving in small circles. I still did nothing.

No matter how I tried to deny or justify it in my head, I was letting my brother feel me up. It wasn't all that naughty yet. Nothing that couldn't be explained away later with the benefit of time to rationalize. But it was definitely happening, and if I didn't stop it...

Brandon's hand crept higher and higher beneath my shirt. I looked at him, staring into his eyes as he reached for my breasts.

"Brandon! Allie! Supper's almost ready! Get down here!"

His hand jerked away and we both stiffened comically in shock as Dad's voice carried up into the attic. A moment later we broke down in a fit of giggling as the tension drained away.

"You were gonna grab my tits," I said between snickers.

"Might have."

"Definitely would have."

Brandon shrugged. "Enh. I was just seeing what you'd do."

"Like hell." I bounced to my feet. "But you missed your shot. Don't think you're getting another one."

"Wait, so I had a shot, is what you're saying?"

"Guess you'll never know now."

****

I studied Brandon obsessively over the dinner table. He didn't seem any different from any other family meal, except that he flushed slightly a couple times when he noticed me staring.

I'd tried to maintain a flippant attitude about his attempt at touching my boobs, as though he wouldn't have really done it, or I wouldn't have cared even if he had. I wasn't sure either of those assumptions were actually safe to make. The more I thought about it, the more it gnawed at me.

Once again, I reserved a little corner of my mind for being annoyed with our parents. If they hadn't said anything, I wouldn't still be puzzling and pondering when I should have been happy and carefree.

I grabbed a shower after eating, partly because I needed one, and partly because it was an excuse to hang out by myself with no possibility of interruption.

Sometimes showers were a chance for some 'me time.' This was not one of them. I was very careful not to play with myself, or even do anything to turn myself on. With this new familial development in my head, it just felt weird to touch my naughty bits in any kind of erotic way.

I did, however, take some time to examine my nude body in the mirror afterward, once I'd wiped the steam off it. I didn't exactly see myself as a 'seductress' of a sister. It wasn't like I had a porn star level of irresistibleness going on.

But then, it wasn't all about pure, physical beauty. I wasn't so naive as to think that was the only thing that mattered. My own crushes had sometimes been purely visual, but they were so much stronger when I had some other connection to the boy in question. Some flirting, or perhaps a deep, interesting conversation or two went a long way to building whatever latent attraction was there and would otherwise have been ignored.

Presumably, it was similar for Brandon. He must have found me just attractive enough that our casual closeness filled in the rest.

I thought back to all the times we'd hung out in our attic hideout, just the two of us. Or when we'd stayed up late watching movies. Or met up on the weekends during the school year. There'd been plenty of opportunities, even if I had no idea what had truly instigated his infatuation with me.

Without even thinking about it, I wrapped my towel around my otherwise naked body and headed to my room. Brandon happened to be walking down the hall as I came out, and he stopped short when he saw me.

"Well that's not fair," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "Wasn't on purpose, I assure you. Also, get over it. You've seen me wearing towel-dresses before."

"Yeah. I have. Wasn't easy those times either."

"Oh come on. You're seriously going to tell me this is what made you go all weird about me?"

"One of the things, sure." Brandon carefully stepped closer, not quite in arm's reach, but near enough. He ran his hand down through the air, indicating my admittedly skimpy attire. "I mean, look at you."

I flushed slightly, partly because that was literally what I'd just been doing. I hadn't checked out how I looked in a towel. Maybe I was more tempting that way? Covered, but only just. Giving some tantalizing glances, threatening to show more. Kind of like our underwear rain dance...

Shit. I was not helping things at all, was I?

"Well maybe don't look, then," I said.

"Yeah right. Like it's that easy."

"It is."

He shook his head. "No. It isn't."

Brandon stepped closer. His fingertips ran up the line where my towel closed. I clutched it tighter, just in case he tried something stupid.

"You know the worst part?" he said in a low voice. "I halfway think you'd be ok with some stuff that I thought was totally off-limits before."

"Wouldn't," I said in a small whine.

"You almost let me touch your boobs."

"Didn't."

"You so did."

Brandon flicked the top of my towel open, though it didn't really go anywhere since I was holding onto it. All that really happened was more of my cleavage was exposed.

"Stop that," I said in an entirely unconvincing voice.

"You'd let me do it right now."

"Wouldn't!"

I turned and stalked off to my room, for real this time. I salvaged what dignity I could while awkwardly holding my towel closed with both hands.

Brandon was a few steps behind me, but he closed fast. I knew he was going to follow me. I also suspected that I wasn't going to stop him, and not just because I didn't have any hands free.

Something was seriously wrong with me.