Polyamorous.

The look on Anaias' face suggests that's he's thinking hard, but then he shakes it off, replacing it with a small pout. "Maybe that's my problem. That it's just you," he retorts, sucking the pink flesh of his bottom lip back into his mouth.

I laugh, pulling him into my lap. "Why would I be an issue?"

"Don't, don't do that. Don't try to coax my feelings out of me. You know damn well that doesn't work for me," he pouts defiantly, crossing his arms.

"So what did you two do today?" I ask casually, leaning back against the headboard of his bed.

"Movies. And ice cream. That was really all," he answers, looking down at the placement of my hands on his body.

My fingers stroke against idly hips, watching him with a large smile on my face. Looking at him reminds me a lot of our mother. The same black hair, wide, brown eyes, and pink lips. He's literally a spitting image of her and it's joyous. But it also hurts because I know that's never gotten him anywhere good in life these last few years.

"Callen?" Ani asks, his defiant stance fading.

"Hm?" I hum.

"Why do you look like that? What's wrong?"

I sigh, shaking my head. "Just thinking about how much you look like mom. God, you look so much like her."

He sighs too. "I'm not pretty like mom was though. Plus, looking like her never brought me much good."

I cringe, knowing that he's partially right. He should take the fact that he looks like her as a compliment; he is just as beautiful as she was. But then again, I can't blame him for not doing so. How could you when the same man that was married to her, the man that you're supposed to call father, decided that because you looked so much like his wife, it was apparently okay to bring you into his bed against your will?

"You are every bit as beautiful as mom was. Look at yourself. The same black hair, the same round eyes, your lips. If you were female, you'd be a clone," I tell him, smiling. "You are beautiful, Anaias."

"Why do you think so highly of me? You tell me I'm pretty, that I'm perfect. What makes me so special?" He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy.

"If I told you, I don't think you would understand. You'd probably run away from me and I don't want that. I love you, Ani," I say a little too honestly.

He furrows his brows and shifts forward in my lap, staring me down. "Why wouldn't I understand?"

Getting lost in those eyes would be terribly easy if it weren't for the fact that the situation is teetering on the edge of awkward and disturbing. He wouldn't understand unless he felt the same. And as much as I wish for that to be true, I may never actually know the answer. He could bottle it up and lock that part of himself away. I'm probably silly to think that he'd ever return my affections, hell, I'm silly just because I feel this way. I never meant to, but you can't necessarily control who you love and sadly, I had basically considered Anaias my own since I was sixteen.

"Callen, you're spacing."

"Sorry, baby boy."

The blackette huffs, brows furrowing deeper. "You didn't answer my question."

"Why is it necessary for you to know? Can't you just be happy with the fact that I love you, and I want to know these things?" I ask, pulling him closer. "Am I not allowed to think that you're beautiful? Is that a crime of some sort?"

"Not a crime, but certainly unnatural. Normal big brothers don't usually tell they're little brothers that they're beautiful."

"Who said I was normal? Normal brothers aren't connected like we are, Ani. Normal siblings haven't been through what we've been through. I don't like it when I walk in here and see you staring into the mirror in disgust. You should know that you're beautiful, despite all that's happened. Cause you are and you should never believe any different."

I watch his face redden and he becomes shy, ducking his head down. I tilt his head back up though, not wanting him to hide those pretty eyes from me. This only causes the blush to spread, and his skin heats up against my fingertips. His brown eyes stare into mine and it feels like he's searching my soul. I don't want to feel this bare around him, like all my feelings are out in the open. I haven't felt this bare since I first fell in love with Quenton.

He continues to stare at me with his wide eyes and flushed cheeks and I'm really not sure what compels me to lean forward and run my fingers over his neck, knowing damn well that his skin is sensitive. Anaias' lips part and his eyes close as my fingers lift to take a path down his cheeks and over his neck again. It's like I'm in a trance, lost in how his body reacts to my touch; I'm mesmerized by him. And as semi-expected, he exhales sharply, tremors rocking his small frame.

Cupping the back of his neck, I bring him foward, mouthing along his chin. His fingers wrap themselves tightly in my shirt, curling in the fabric. I can hear his heart beating rapidly and I chuckle softly, one hand running through those pretty, black locks. The temperature of his body goes up, and the heat begins seeping through his clothes into mine. The warmth is welcome and so are his whimpering breaths, telling me that this is some how, some way okay. My lips eventually slot themselves over his for the first time, connecting and parting, kissing him softly. There's a gasp against my lips and a shiver as his smaller body presses up against mine, thin arms wrapping around my neck. This is everything I imagined it would be and more. When I'm desperate for air, I pull away, resting my forehead against his.

"I love you, Ani. I love you so much," I say, hands making their way up his shirt. He stiffens, eyes wide as if he's just realized something.

"No," he whispers.

"Yes," I tell him, too caught up in that kiss to realize that there's something wrong. "God, I'm so in love with you it hurts."

"No," he says again, louder this time. Then he really looks at me and I see the brokeness in his eyes. "N-no. You can't. We don't. It's not okay," he rambles, beginning to slide off of my lap.

I'm shocked, wondering how we got from point A to here. "What? But you...?"

"I know you know about me. And that's why you've been doing this. The hands and the touching and the looks, but now this? No. That's low. Especially for you, Callen," and like so many times before, he's cowering away from me, slowly scooting away like any sudden movements will cause me to pounce on him.

"Ani," I reach forward, receiving a glare strong enough to sting.

"NO! You can't do this to me! You don't get to play with me like that. Not with my feelings, not with false love, and not with my body! This isn't right. You can't take me from one abusive household, trick me into falling in love and then do what you want with me because feelings suddenly make having your way with me okay! It doesn't fucking work like that, you bastard!"

I stare at him wide-eyed. "What?! You think that I'm trying to manipulate you?! Anaias, I fucking love you. I'm in love with you. Goddamn it, I don't want to hurt you. You could have said no, you didn't push me away."

"Maybe I didn't want to," he says quietly.

"Then what's so wrong with this? If you want me and I want you, what's the fucking problem?! You know I'd never hurt you, not intentionally. So if you don't want to do something, you could tell me. But why is it a crime for me to love you?!"

"Because you're my brother, Callen! It's not supposed to be like this and I can't, I can't.. Just get out! AND DON'T YOU EVER TOUCH ME AGAIN!" he screams.

Just like that, the anger bubbles up inside me and I lose it. Storming from the room and all I can see is red. I regret the words before they even leave my lips, but I can't control my mouth. "Maybe I should have left you with dad. Seems you appreciate the abuse more than someone who actually loves you. Is that it, Anaias? You want me to be rough with you?"

There's suddenly another figure in the room, coming between Ani and I. The blackette is crying now, and Quenton is holding him, shielding him from my rage. When the blonde turns around slowly, anger and hurt are clearly written in those crystal blues. I open my mouth to apologize as I step forward. But he holds his hand up, stopping me in my tracks and shaking his head.

"I think you should go for a walk, Callen. And maybe you should sleep on the fucking couch tonight. If you even think about coming near him, I'll kill you. You've done enough damage, so do us all a fucking favor and get lost," Quenton says, going back to consoling the younger boy.

It hurts to see what I've done, to hear my lover tell me to leave. I should have kept myself in check; I should have relayed things better without stooping so low. I know I've fucked up big time but I didn't mean to hurt either one of them. Fuck, man. How can I even begin to fix something this broken?