Summary: Thoughts on Jade and Smiffy. It's fiction, I'm not claiming that it's true. There will probably be more, but I am a Crappy Updater.
Disclaimer: I do not know the people I use in this story; I just think they are pretty and decided to make up a story about them. It isn’t true to my knowledge, even though I wish it were.
Davey’s Point of View
I know Jade loves me. He wouldn’t come home with me every night, sleep with me in our bed, make love to me if he didn’t. He wouldn’t bring me breakfast in bed, or spend hours stroking and brushing my hair, or watch my favorite movie with me for the millionth time if he felt he could live without me.
But I know he loves Smith too. I see the hugs that last slightly too long, that are too tender and sweet to be brotherly and platonic, the worry in his eyes when someone starts to hassle him, even though Smith is more than capable of taking care of himself now.
Part of it is the fact that he is Smith’s older brother; the baby brother that he has always felt the insane need to protect against all evil is out in the world, exposing himself to things, people and events that are beyond his control, and he can’t be with Smith all the time to watch over him, to keep him safe.
But somewhere along the way lust and romantic love took root; which one came first I couldn’t begin to guess at. I’ve been able to see it in the way Jade looks at his brother for years now, since before we even began dating, although I’m certain Jade didn’t consciously realize it until quite recently. I wasn’t second choice. Jade is incapable of doing something so cruel, that would hurt me so badly as to take me as his consolation prize, which is the only reason I was willing to be in a relationship with him in the first place; I knew he was incapable of being malicious toward someone he loved.
With Smith it is simpler and as such, subtler, but that love and lust is definitely reciprocated in feeling, if never in consummated deed. The original hero worship he felt for Jade as his cool older brother and a healthy dose of teenage hormones must have lead to plenty of wet dreams that set his imagination running, because his need for Jade has been obvious to me since I first met him.
When we were teenagers I would always see him stare at Jade just a little too long and hard, and he’d always pull crazy stunts to get his attention, sometimes going so far as to pick a fight in a club just to have Jade either come to his defense or help him bandage his broken body afterward. I think the thought that he wouldn’t have a chance became so engrained in him after Jade and I had been dating for a couple of years that he began to disregard men entirely. In all the years I’ve known Smith, he has never dated, or even declared an interest in men, bringing girl after girl home instead.
I’m not jealous of the love they feel for each other. Why should I be? Jade has never cheated on me, let alone begun an affair with his brother. Smith seems content with the idea of loving Jade from afar, to allow him to be happy and make a life with me, like a character in some old novel or play. I don’t feel envy for the love they both feel for each other because I feel the same love for the both of them.
Smith’s Point of View
I never ran to mom when I fell and hurt myself, I never wanted her. Whether I had tripped and fallen or been pushed by another kid, I always picked myself up and ran to my big brother. He’d take one look at me, even when we were both so small neither of us could comprehend a number larger than twenty, and he’d take my hand and lead me into the bathroom. He’d set me on the lid of the toilet and root around under the sink until he found the first aid kit. He’d yank it out, and it would always make this horrible loud screeching sound as it scraped the bottom of the cupboard. He would pull out antiseptic and let me clasp his left hand as hard as I could from the stinging when he’d douse my little knees or elbows with it.
Then he’d pat me dry with pieces of gauze and cover my scrapes and cuts with those bandaids with the cartoons on them. He’d wipe my tears with a Kleenex and help me blow my runny nose and wash my face with one of his washcloths, the pink and white one with the little brown bunny on it. And then he would kiss my booboos to make them better, and pull me into his arms where he sat on the floor and let me cling to him for as long as I needed, sometimes for hours. He would whisper into my ear.
//It’s gonna be all right Smiffy, Jadey’s here. I’m not gonna leave you, go ahead and cry as long as you need to. I love you.//
he’d put the first aid kit away, lead me to our room, help me into my pajamas and tuck me into his bed with my bear. He would get in, spoon up behind me and just hold me while I slept, sometimes placing these soft little kisses on my back of my neck and ears.
He was my hero and I adored him. He could do no wrong; he was the smartest, kindest, strongest person ever, not to mention the best big brother a kid could have.
As he got older, started junior high and high school, he stopped playing with me. Never completely, but for a kid who had been used to his big brother’s undivided attention it was a harsh blow. Before we played hide and seek, built forts together, played ball together every day, but then Jade got other friends. He was too cool to hang out with his baby brother all the time.
It got to the point where I missed him so desperately I would do anything to try to forget for a little while. I’d go see one of my older friends and get high. Most of the time they’d end up calling Jade because I’d start crying in the middle of it and not be able to stop. Hysterical people tend to spoil the high, so they’d make Jadey come get me. He’d see me, see the tears, the snot running down my face, and he’d shake his head and sigh. He’d grab hold of my hand, so tightly his knuckles would turn white, and lead me home.
I began to realize the only way I could get him to notice me anymore was to get into enough trouble that I would need him to take care of me. I started to sneak into the clubs when I knew Jade and his friends had gone to see a show. I would pick fights with whoever I could, hoping Jade would see what was happening and take care of me after.
Then I met Davey and everything changed. When I introduced him and Jade I immediately saw the sparks between them. As time passed it became obvious to everyone how perfect they were for each other; when they started dating there were surprisingly few problems with our friends and family. Once I even heard our mothers giggling about them, talking about all the babies “their boys” were going to adopt for them to spoil.
And Christ! Were they beautiful together! I once got home early from school, only to discover that they were already there. I stayed quiet so they wouldn’t hear me, and sneaked up to the bedroom door. When I peeked in I had to hold back a gasp. I remember how decadent they looked, sprawled on Jade’s bed, nude and giggling. I watched as they repeatedly pressed red mouths against each other’s pale skin, licking, suckling hard until it bruised crimson.
It was only after I had run to the bathroom and jerked off to what I saw that I realized they had never touched each other’s cocks. They had never stimulated each other that way, had made a game of making each other come with those suckling kisses, the occasional bite, slap, scratch of nails. That those marks that covered pale chests, thighs, arms and stomachs were so numerous, yet could be covered by t-shirts and baggy shorts was so hot, so secretive.
With that realization I wanted them both. Not just my brother, but them both together, with me. Davey went out of his way to make me feel like I was part of his family too. He included me when he could, didn’t make it feel like I was an obligation because I was Jade’s baby brother, and I loved him for that. But I desperately wanted to be with them, the way they were with each other, a part of their love and desire. To be so confident in the love we felt that we could play such a lighthearted game.
And I knew it could never be that way. What had held me back from going to Jade before had been the knowledge that, even if he felt the same way, if we were brothers and lovers, it wouldn’t work out. He needed someone who could be with him publicly, someone he could flirt with, kiss and touch. Adding Davey to the mix would have made everything more difficult for all of us; they both deserved something they wouldn’t have if I were involved. So, I resolved to stay quiet, to let them be happy, to try my best to forget and move on.