Brothers

Reality makes great fiction.

You are in love.

You are in love with your best friend and with his brother, and you love being in love.  you love the easy smiles, the late-night conversations, the midnight swims, the random acts of kindness, and the dreams of happy futures.  You love how you find yourself writing your name paired with their surname over and over, and how you don't feel guilty when they see it, because each thinks that it is they that you love.

It's not deceit if they're the ones making assumptions.

But isn't it actually a bad thing?  Shouldn't you feel guilty when you call the first brother, then the second, and tell neither how much you talk to the other?  When your best friend tells you that his brother is flying home from school, don't you deserve hell for faking nonchalance while hoping he can't hear your racing heart?

You don't know.  And really, you don't care, because it feels entirely right to kiss one with the taste of the other still lingering on your lips.