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Author’s note:
I’m reasoning that Charles is older than Aloysius by at least two years, so then that makes him four years older than Diogenes. Part 1 takes place just after the death of their parents when Diogenes is 17, Aloysius is 19, and Charles is around a late 20 or early 21. Part 2 takes place when Diogenes would have been 15. When Charles would’ve been around 18 or 19.

Part 1

Charles watched him sleep.

Aloysius lay curled up tightly beside him; face as expressionless as always, even in sleep. But he still looked peaceful. His back was to the wall and he was painfully vulnerable, Charles didn’t dare touch him; Aloysius had reflexes like a viper. And he was significantly more dangerous. But he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, the doctors had given him something for the pain and something else to help him sleep.

I should change the bandage... Charles thought, taking the younger man’s forearm into his hand

Blood had soaked through just a little, and he wondered if Aloysius would wake if he changed it. “Hey Al,” He whispered. “I’m going to change this for you; just sleep, I won’t hurt you Al.”

Some suicide watch, he thought. I leave him alone for five minutes and he cuts his arm open. If his parents were still alive...

But they weren’t, they’d been dead two weeks, Diogenes had vanished, and Aloysius wanted to stay here just a little longer before going back to England. The bandage came away easily enough, the cut was stitched tightly together but it stretched nearly the length of his forearm; from wrist to the bend of his elbow.

Charles had found him sitting against the bathroom wall, bleeding over everything, saying his name over and over again. Asking for his help, saying he was so very sorry...

And now Aloysius lay so passively, his arm bandaged akin to a mummy. Eyes closed and body limp with sleep against Charles’ body beside him in the bed. The new bandage went on and he pulled the blanket back around Aloysius. Couldn’t have him catching a cold when he’d only just survived his suicide attempt. An attempt that completely baffled Charles. Why? He wanted to know why. Aloysius had everything going for him; yeah his parents were dead and his brother had run off with barely a goodbye. But he still had school to finish, a future with some woman he would meet and fall in love with. There was no doubt of that; even Aloysius could see how handsome he was. With those pale blue eyes, that white-blond hair and just the so slender way he was built. But he’d tried to end it all, with a damn knife, not even a razor blade but a damn knife!

“Damn you Aloysius.” He’d said when the doctor had issued a blood transfusion. But he’d refused to leave him alone again. That was why he now slept—drugged—in Charles’ bed. He would stay for a week or two if Charles had his way. If Charles had his way—but Aloysius would never let him do those things...

He combed his fingers though Aloysius’ hair very carefully. “I don’t know what I’d have done had you died, Aloysius.”

“Nor do I.” Charles jumped, surprised and then hugged him.

The younger man gasped in pain, Charles pulled away quickly. “I hurt you?”

“It’s just my wrist,” He said. “I moved it wrong... Charles, I’m sorry I did what I did. It was selfish and stupid.”

I should hit you. Charles though. “Damn right it was selfish and stupid!” He put his hands on the younger mans’ shoulders. “Aloysius, had I lost you... I couldn’t stand that Al. First your brother, I know you didn’t really get along with him but I did, sometimes. And had you died too—”

“But I did not.” Aloysius said. “I’m okay, you kept me alive Charles, I didn’t want to die and you saved me from doing something very stupid indeed.”

Aloysius paused; surprised Charles by kissing his cheek. It took everything Charles had not to turn his head and capture the other man’s lips with his own. “Charles, this will sound strange; but would you kiss me back? I want to know what being kissed by you is like...” “I don’t know what to say.” Charles murmured. “Then don’t say anything. Just kiss me back, please; I know that’s what you wanted.”

So that’s what this is about? Because he knows I want it, he doesn’t, not really. But what if he hurts himself again because I don’t? And that thought settled it for Charles; he touched his lips to Aloysius’, softly like he’d asked.

However, Aloysius didn’t want soft or anything resembling gentle. Charles wondered how long he’d been suppressing his sex-drive; how long he’d denied himself fulfillment. But he didn’t really want to risk hurt him even by accident.

“Stop, Aloysius.” He said.

“You don’t really want me to stop.” He countered. It’s true, Charles thought. I don’t want him to ever stop. “This doesn’t mean anything to you!” He snapped and Aloysius jerked away as if burned; as if wounded.

I hurt him anyway; trying not to.

“But it does mean something to me!” Aloysius insisted. “Because I know it means something to you, it matters to me.”

Aloysius tried to kiss him again, and this time Charles didn’t stop him but instead he cupped the man’s head in his hands. Forced a heartfelt kiss on his lips; Aloysius was right, he was always right, because he was always in control. He maneuvered himself atop Charles while they kissed, he tried to pull the older man’s shirt off but he grabbed his wounded arm and squeezed. Aloysius gasped in pain and jerked away, sitting up right on his knees, holding the arm against his chest.

“Mercy,” He whispered. “My arm—”

“I know.” Charles said and squeezed the arm again.

“Ah!” His eyes filled with tears. “Charles, stop. Why?”

Charles kissed the tears away. “I wanted to hurt you, just a little. To show how you’ve pissed me off so much. You deserved that Al, you manipulative bastard and you know it.”

Aloysius was still cradling his arm. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Is that out of your system now?”

He isn’t even a little angry, Charles thought. Those drugs must be something.

He could feel the heat of blood on his hands. “Yes, I’m sorry Al. It won’t happen again.” He captured Aloysius’ lips with his own, rolling on top of the smaller man and pressing forward. He touched the red stained cotton gauze.

“Do you want me to change this now?”

“No, later.” Aloysius said. “It’s just going to bleed again anyway.” ...

And it did bleed again. When they were done fooling around Charles had him sit on the toilet lid while he cleaned the wound and replaced the bandage yet again.

“You’re so gentle with me.” Aloysius said fondly and touched the others hair with his free hand.

“You need gentle, Aloysius.” He said, dripping water over the stitches then drying it off before securing another bandage to his arm. He smiled up at Aloysius and kissed the bandage clasp.

“I want to say that I love you, but I know I only love what we’ve done.”

“I know what you mean.” Charles said. “You should get back to sleep, your medication is next to the bed.”

Aloysius frowned. “Why do I get the feeling you’re brushing me off?”

Charles kissed him quickly. “I’m not. You need to sleep... That way we can play more tomorrow.”

Aloysius smiled openly. “Okay.”

A few minutes later, Aloysius was once again curled up on his side in a medicated sleep. Charles lay beside him, amazed that he’d gotten what he’d been thinking about only hours ago. But honestly, he felt wary. Wary that the drugs were the only thing making Aloysius act the way he was.

They had grown up together, and Charles knew it wasn’t Al’s personality at all. On the other hand, maybe he’d been hiding those feelings for years and the death of his parents had pulled them forward. Or maybe that wasn’t it either’ maybe Aloysius had just thought he needed some one and Charles was the closest person. Whatever the case, he felt they were an item now. Together; for a while any way.

...

“I’m nothing but trouble.” Aloysius said the next afternoon. “Why do you eve put up with me?”

“Because I know you’re a baby.” Charles said and Aloysius swatted at him the same way a tiger cub swats at a butterfly. Harmless and playful.

“Seriously Charles.” He said.

“Fine. It’s like you said last night; I love what we do. And because I think we need each other. I don’t like being alone Al, and neither do you.”

“But we can’t love each other?” Aloysius ventured.

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t want to be alone.” Aloysius said softly.

Charles leant across the table and kissed him. “Then you won’t be.” He said. “But I’m not sure if that’s the same as loving someone.”

“We’ll find out.” Aloysius told him.

“That we will.” Charles smiled warmly.

...

The bed frame smacked against the wall when they fell into it. And they both laughed, kissed, tried to take the other’s clothes off. But Charles kept pushing his hands away.

“Just your clothes.” He murmured. “I just want to play with you, Al.” And he smiled. “My clothes are staying on for now.”

“Yes, okay.” He said.

Charles pulled Aloysius’ shirt off, then the soft denim jeans. His skin was milk white with little pale blond curls among hips that dominated his slender torso. Charles skimmed his hand over those curls and the other man squirmed wildly; laughing.

He bit his hip bone and lightly and Aloysius stopped laughing, moaned instead. He rose off the bed a little and Charles pressed him back down, kissing his flat stomach. He took his mouth lower after a moment, watching as Aloysius gripped the bed-sheets. He slipped his hands over Al’s thighs and in the next moment, he had put his mouth on his erection. Aloysius bucked his hips and Charles gagged a little, pulled back some.

“Charles, I’m about to—”

He climbed up Aloysius’ body, hand between his legs while he pressed their bodies together. Aloysius moaned and grabbed Charles’ upper arms. “Charles,” He said again and climaxed hard into his palm. Then the both of them lay breathing heavy and still.

“You’re my first.” Aloysius said when he could.

“You’ve never had sex?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never so much as kissed someone before I kissed you.”

He blinked. “I believe you.” Charles himself couldn’t boast the same thing however. He’d been with men and women before Aloysius. Even Diogenes one lonely and insane night: Aloysius would never know that though. The brothers didn’t talk much and Charles sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him.

“I’ve never been anyone’s first...” He said and ruffled Aloysius’ hair. He playfully bit his shoulder.

“Thanks for being mine.” He gave him a big, toothy smile. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. I’m going to take a shower.” He said but Aloysius had already dozed off.

He’d once asked his mom why women always wanted to chat after sex. “They shouldn’t have the energy to talk if you’ve done it right.” She’d told him. He looked over at Aloysius, satisfied he’d done it right.

...

In the shower, Charles found himself thinking about the admittedly two nights with Aloysius’ younger brother Diogenes. The passion the much younger man had shown both times was still more than he’d ever expected him to. Diogenes had thought his passion an ‘unbearable, searing heat.’ And indeed, it had been hot; Charles remembered every pleasant detail.

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