Giving In 22

First off, all characters involved in adult situations are 18 or older, I feel that's important to get out of the way.

Secondly, if you're looking for a good journey into the psyche (particularly keno, etc.) and giving in to temptation, then this is the style for you. It's more emotional than physical, and in fact there's very little sexy stuff in this piece. It's more about the build up, which to me is a lot more exciting, but I can understand some of you just want, well, a quick fix. This isn't that.

This is a short one-shot piece, but if anyone has any interest in it I left it relatively open-ended on purpose, and wouldn't mind continuing it if I get enough positive reviews. So if you want more, let me know, praise is my biggest motivator.

Please, leave me suggestions and/or hatemail in the comments below. Thanks for stopping by!

-~-~-~-

I'll just leave all this shit in the car for now.

I thought, stepping up to the door and unlocking it. Coming home after three years of college out of state brings a lot more awkwardness than I thought. First there was the dog, who somehow still remembered me, bless his heart. Yipping and yapping while my mom practically tackled me with a hug. Technically his name was "Baxter" but we all just called him "Dog" anyway. Probably a bit cold, I can't imagine being called "Human" and liking it, but then again he's a dog and doesn't understand English, so that makes the whole thing come full circle, I guess.

Mom released me for a moment to look at my face. "It's so good to see you! I know we talked on the phone like 30 minutes ago, but how are you? You look a little gaunt! Are you getting enough to eat? Don't worry, I'll make sure you're good and fed for when you go back for your senior year! You look tan, have you been getting too much sun? You know you should be..." and on that went for another ten minutes.

"I'm fine, Mom. I actually put on ten pounds, so I don't think I'm any more "gaunt" than I was before." Don't get me wrong, I love my mom. But there's only a certain amount of suffocation a man can handle.

Dad, not knowing quite what to say out loud but the tears in his eyes saying more than words can, gripped me in an almost-too-tight bear-hug. "Hey, Son." Was all he said before wobbling back to his chair a bit awkwardly (he has back problems), wiping his eyes, and sitting down to watch more TV. That's my dad.

Then there was my sister, Brianna. "Hey, D." She smiled impassively, trying to act cool. Three years had changed her a lot. I'm sure she had to beat the guys off with a stick, she was so gorgeous. "Missed ya."

I smiled back. "Missed you too, B." I said honestly, giving her a tight side-hug, she gripped me around the waist with both arms and squeezed just as hard. "You decided where you're going to college yet?" We let go of each other and she looked at me. "Or are you still

procrastinating.

" I added, mimicking Mom's voice.

She looked away for a moment and smiled again. "Naw, not yet." Mom rolled her eyes, Brianna rolled her eyes back. "I'm in no rush, I've got all summer to figure it out, 'cause I'm not gonna start 'til winter semester, that's when my internship ends." Right, I had forgotten about that. She landed a great after high school internship with a local accounting firm for the fall. "I've narrowed it down to like five, though." She added.

"Nice." We shuffled our feet a bit awkwardly for a moment, not knowing what else to say. "Well, I better go grab my stuff. Where's Jake?"

My fourteen year-old brother came out of his room. "Hey, D." No smile. Typical teenager. I laughed inwardly. "You need help?" I nodded and thanked him, and after we shut the door, I stopped and looked at him.

"How you doin', man? Seriously." I gave him my big-brother look.

He shrugged. "I'm fine." I looked at him more intensely. "Really. I guess I'm just a teenager or whatever." He finally smiled a little.

I chuckled. "I missed ya, buddy. Don't grow up too fast." He rolled his eyes. We do that a lot in our family. "You wanna grab that suitcase, and then the lamp?" He nodded and after four more trips, the last three years of my life was safely stowed away in my parent's home. Odd that I didn't think of it as mine anymore.

Maybe that will change by the end of the summer. I did miss it.

Dinner was A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. I had forgotten how much I loved homemade cooking. Some of the college girls' apartments would fix us guys food every once in awhile, but it's still nothing like the food you grew up on. Baked potatoes, steak, peas and carrots from the garden. Oh man, I was practically in heaven. I said so and both Brianna and Jake rolled their eyes. After dinner we watched some TV and the family went to bed. Brianna and I stayed up a little and just talked, she was used to a bit of a later bedtime and I was just coming back from college so we were both pretty much wide awake.

"So, what are your college options?" I finally asked, after all the fluff was out of the way.

She sighed. "Well I applied to Harvard, it'd be really cool to get in, but we'll see. I also applied to the U of U though." She brightened when she said this. That was my school. "It'd be cool to have a semester of college together, yeah?"

"That would be cool. A little strange, but definitely cool."

She seemed to be struggling to say something. I had noticed it earlier in our conversation, but hadn't wanted to press the subject. Now it seemed like she needed a push. "B? What is it?"

She paused a moment, her beautiful green eyes filling with tears. Her golden-brown hair fell in rivulets, framing her face. "Derek? Can you just...I dunno, be a big-brother for a second?"

I stared at her, concerned. "I thought I was always a big brother, B? What's going on?"

I felt a pit in my stomach as she leaned into me a little. "I...uh. I'm not sure I believe, you know, in God anymore." We were a deeply religious family, my older sister Britney had moved away and "turned" from God, as my parents put it, and we hardly ever talked to her. Some of that had to do with a lot of

other

decisions she had made, but not entirely so. It ostracized her from the family a little and I understood why Brianna was so upset.

"Me neither." I stated simply. "Do Mom and Dad know?" She started sobbing a little and just shook her head into my shoulder. Tender feelings welled up in me and I kissed her forehead. "Me neither. How long?"

She sat up and looked at me, tears trailing down her face, smearing her makeup a bit. "Like six months. Maybe longer. Going to church and pretending that I believe everything is just...so hard. I don't wanna do it anymore but I don't want them to be, like, disappointed or whatever, you know?" She paused for a moment, thinking, then she looked at me again. "I'm glad I'm not alone, though. How long for you?"

I sighed. "Pretty much the same age as you." Her eyes grew wide. Apparently I was a good actor when I was younger. Going to something that you simply don't believe in anymore is honestly extremely difficult, doing it for a year had been almost impossible. It was a cause of major anxiety for me coming home. I had spent so much time away from anything really religious that I wasn't sure I knew how to do it anymore. "Don't worry, your big brother will save you!" I grinned at her, pumping my chest out like a superhero.

She laughed through her tears, wiping them away at last and settled back onto my shoulder. The pit in my stomach returned. "I really did miss you, D." She grabbed my arm and sighed. We stayed like that for a minute. I could feel her starting to nod off, so I shook her gently, peeled myself away from her, and we said goodnight.

-~-~-~-

"You're sure you'll be okay?" Mom asked skeptically.

We both nodded. "Yeah, Joey said we could go to church with him in La Jolla. He's a good guy and it's got a lot of young adults there. Besides, it'd be good for Brianna to get away from the whole "family" thing to break her in, you know?" The lie flew off my lips with ease. I had been doing it after every Sunday phone call for three years. I'm sure my parents, or at least my Mom, expected something was up, but they never broached the subject - likely not wanting to hear "bad" news. "We'll probably be gone most of the day, if that's okay?"

"Why can't

I

go with them!?" Jake had his pouty face on. Poor kid.

"Because you're fourteen and not a young adult yet. And because you love your mother very much." Mom laughed at her own joke. Jake just stomped his feet. She turned to me. "Yes, that's fine. It'd be nice to have our first Sunday dinner as a family but I understand."

Dad and she walked out the door, Dad practically dragging Jake kicking and screaming. "Bye, you two! Be good." My dad, succinct as ever.

My sister looked at me and smiled. "I can't believe that worked!" She gave me a big bear hug and let go quickly, giggling to herself.

I tapped my nose, using my "wise sage" voice. "Many year of training, young one. Many year of practice. You must steer your mind, ret roose your fear of death." She laughed again, musically. "Get a change of clothes and let's go!"

She practically ran to her room and grabbed her jeans and a top. We left the house in our Sunday best, just in case anyone was watching. Probably paranoid but we were young, and afraid of getting caught. "So what are we really doing?" She asked mischievously.

I only grinned. "You wanna go shopping?"

She gasped, then smiled. "Well, I guess if God isn't there, He doesn't care if we shop on His day, does He?" She paused. "Still, I feel a bit guilty about it, is that weird?"

"Not at all. I did for a long time, but I broke into it and realized it was pretty much just social conditioning. Gotta start behaving toward your beliefs sometime or you'll go nuts, might as well start now, yeah?"

She grinned, shooting a fist in the air, looking almost exactly like every overeager Japanese anime girl ever drawn. "Yeah!" She grabbed my arm, we jumped in my Altima, and sped off toward the city - where no one would recognize us.

We stopped at an ice cream shop in the mall and, with her still expressing how guilty she felt, we grabbed some chocolate ice cream and shared it, just like we did when we were young. She had sprinkles on her half, and I had the little spheres that had the fruity, syrupy filling in them on mine.

"Alrighty, Missy, spill it." I said suddenly.

She looked at me, confused, an orange plastic ice cream spoon sticking out of her mouth. "What?" Her voice came out all muffled from the spoon. She must have stuck it to her tongue because it flipped all over when she spoke.

"What have you, you know,

done

, in the last 6 months? You have that look in your eye like this isn't the first time you've felt guilty about something." I grabbed the spoon out of her mouth and held it up in the air, taunting her. She only half-heartedly yelped and reached for it, smiling as her top lifted a bit, exposing her midriff. I saw the shine of a small piercing on her belly button, mostly because my eyes were like a magnet to belly piercings, I find them extremely attractive. "Like

that!

" I pointed at her belly. "Oh my God, B! Do Mom and Dad know?"

She frowned and pulled her shirt down, looking a bit ashamed. "No. I only wear it when I'm out, I keep it in my purse." She shrugged. "I've always wanted one, and one day I was passing a piercing shop and figured, "Why not?" I don't really feel too guilty about it to be honest."

I matched her shrug. "No judgments from me, Sis. Look." I lifted my sleeve, revealing the small tattoo of an eagle on the back of my shoulder. "We all need our little private rebellions. I got this two months before leaving for college. I didn't mean to make you feel awkward, it just took me by surprise." I laughed comfortably. "It looks good."

She blushed a bit. "Thanks. That eagle looks cool, any reason?"

I shook my head. "Other than being an eagle scout, naw. Just thought it would look cool." I paused a moment, and then gave her my big-brother look. The one I gave her was different than Jake's, more "I-care-about-you," less "you're-my-buddy," but equal amounts of "tell-me-or-I'll-torture-you-mercilessly." "What else, B?"

She sighed. "You're not letting me off the hook, are you? Let's see. For the most part not much. I tried drinking with a friend and didn't like it," she paused, thinking. I was the same way, didn't really care for alcohol at all. I could handle wine in social situations but that was it. "I...well, I guess the biggest reason I feel guilty is I'm not a virgin anymore." She said shyly. I nodded knowingly. "I guess you probably aren't either, huh?" I nodded again.

I reached across the table and grabbed her hand with both of mine. "Listen, Sis. You don't need the "it's okay to do things" talk from me, I know that. But I'm gonna give you my version of it anyway." She sighed, and I paused a moment to collect my thoughts, bringing my hands back to my side of the table before I continued. "You're in a confusing place right now, and it's not easy because you have a lot of pressure all around you. I know. If you feel guilty about something, ask yourself "why?" If it's a good reason, then stop doing it, otherwise, figure out how to stop feeling guilty about it."

I looked around at the people milling about in the mall. "Look at all these people, B. None of them feel guilty being here, and that's okay. You

do

feel guilty being here, and that's

also

okay. Guilt isn't necessarily a bad thing, it keeps us from crossing lines like murder and thievery. However it

can

get in the way of happiness. I'm not perfect by any means, I still feel guilty about some of the things I do. The proof of that is in Mom and Dad's complete obliviousness of how I live now. If Brit got one thing right, it's that she owned up to who she was and was honest. We could probably both take a page from her book in that regard."

My sister breathed deeply. "This is all so surreal to me. You have no idea what a relief it is to talk to someone." I chuckled and she grinned. "Well, I guess you probably do. I can't say anything to my religious friends because they'll judge, and I can't say anything to my

non

-religious friends because I

used

to judge them, and frankly I think I still do sometimes. There's a bit of pride in me that won't let me admit this to them. To anyone. Except you." Her eyes glistened again. I scooted my chair around the table and hugged her into my side, she just buried her face into my shirt, sobbing. "I love you, D."

I patted her head and stroked her hair. "I love you too, B. I'm sorry you're going through this."

An older woman, maybe seventy or so, scooted past us and mumbled something about "young love." Brianna must have heard it because she suddenly burst into a fit of giggles into my shirt, intermixed with post-cry sniffles. It was such a comical sound that after a few seconds it had me laughing out loud, and then both of us were just laughing uncontrollably.

After a few moments the fit subsided and she sat up, wiping her eyes. She looked at me, her emerald eyes still glistening. "Thanks, Bro." She collected herself, our ice-cream officially eaten, and stood up. "Where should we go next?"

I furrowed my brow, feigning deep thought. "Hmmm, Express has some nice dress shirts I wanted to check out. I think the summer line just hit Buckle too, or I actually need some new shoes as well. Your pick."

She smiled. "Buckle it is, then." She paused and frowned a bit. "How are we going to get the clothes into the house without Mom and Dad finding out?"

"Who says we have to bring them in tonight? Just leave them in my trunk and we'll grab them in the morning when they leave for work. Easy peezy."

-~-~-~-

We arrived home in our church clothes a few hours later and many dollars lighter. Brianna sidled up to me before we opened the door and thanked me again before we walked in.

"How was church?" First question by my mom, always the worrier.

I could feel the stifled laugh in my sister's voice (and hoped my parents couldn't hear it) when she said, simply, "Fine."

Mom just rolled her eyes at the typical teenage response. Like I said we do that a lot in our family. "Well, whatever, dinner's on the stove, might need to be heated up a bit. When you're done we'll be downstairs in the theater room. It's Jake's turn to pick so it'll probably be a Disney movie or something."

Better than the Hallmark movies you and Dad force us to watch.

I looked pointedly at Brianna and could tell she was thinking the exact same thing. We hurriedly ate, changed into our PJ's and joined the rest of the family downstairs. We weren't really wealthy, but our theater room was amazing. We're a movie-watching family so no expense was left out. High-end projector, quality screen, amazing surround sound and one of those remotes that control the lighting and everything. I forgot how much I missed it.

Unbeknownst to my parents I had actually lost my virginity in this room to Ashley Stoker. Everyone called her "Ashley Stroker," and for good reason. She was basically a slut and it was one of my lesser, horny moments. She knew about the name and didn't care one whit. I believe she even moved out to LA to start a porn career, actually. I guess if she ever gets famous I can say I fucked a porn star, so at least there's that. To be honest the sex wasn't even that great. I thought it was me, but quickly learned that the more eager a girl is to "give it up," the worse she is. Probably the same for guys, I dunno. Or maybe it's just my taste, if it's too easy there's no thrill; something like that.

Anyway, long story short, it's an amazing theater room. It has five recliners and two couches. One was soft but firm, the other was so plush it was like laying on a cloud. I preferred the firm one, as did Brianna, so we would always end up sitting next to each other since we were kids, sharing a blanket. We entered the room and took our respective spots on the couch just as "Megamind" began playing.

I looked at my sister knowingly and leaned forward, exposing my back to her as I grinned at her. She rolled her eyes and starting scratching my back lightly, sending shivers all throughout my body. If there was an award for "Best back-scratcher in the world," my sister would be in at least the top 5. She never "teased" by hitting the tickle spots like your armpits (which, to me, just ruins it. It's funny and I'll laugh, but it disappoints me because it cuts into the awe-inspiring pleasure that a great back scratch can bring), and would linger in all the right spots for just long enough to set your nerves on fire, begging for it to never end. It was bittersweet, because once it did end it always left you craving for more. Whoever she ends up marrying is going to be a lucky guy. Just saying.

This particular back scratch lasted at least a half-hour. Probably a personal record, and it was incredible. I had goosebumps all over my body by the time I felt the "pat-on-the-back-sorry-I'm-done" signal from her. I sighed in contentment and she leaned forward, smiling back at me. I tried not to roll my eyes, but the urge was too strong. Her smile only widened and she motioned towards her back with her eyes. God, she's beautiful.

I chuckled silently and returned the favor, paying attention to her arms and shoulders as well. She clearly wasn't wearing a bra, as there was no obstruction while I ran my hands along the back of her loose-fitting tee. I guess we

were

in our PJ's, after all. My attempts to match her in quality and quantity were thwarted by a cramp in my hand and arm, and by the time the movie was half-over, I had to signal that I was done. She smiled her thanks at me anyway, and nuzzled back against me on the couch, our shoulders overlapping with me behind her. Giving me a perfect view of her very grown-up, uninhibited cleavage.