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 WARNING: Incest. 
Many thanks to Alexa C. for her encouragement and advice.
  
  Love Taught to Lie by sistersleep  

 It was even colder in Emcity at night. 

 Especially when your little fucking brother was stealing the sheets right
off of you, Ryan thought as he shifted just a little under the now
sleeping weight of Cyril.

 Ryan's whole body was warm where it was trapped under that hot, gently
snoring press of Cyril's weight. Except for Ryan's bare left foot and leg,
which were so fucking chilled his skin was practically tingling, his long
leg hanging out from under the blanket Cyril was tucked up in. Cyril never
had learned to share the covers.

 Ryan stayed softly petting that long blonde hair, careful to soothe and
not wake, while he contemplated whether it was okay for him to move. To
escape back to his own bunk. 

 It hadn't been that bad of a nightmare, and thankfully Cyril had gotten
back to sleep quicker than usual with Ryan's help. Ryan was torn between
wanting to move...and fear of waking him back up. This happened every
goddamned time, just adding to Ryan's lack of sleep.

 Ryan couldn't bring himself to be all that pissed while staring down at
Cyril's face.

 Cyril always looked different now. The child that was all that was left
of the man Ryan had used to know was clear even when he wasn't speaking.
But it was just childhood all over again. Ryan knew this Cyril too.
Petulant, impatient. Still tagging after Ryan in a way that Ryan...always
secretly craved, reveled in underneath his annoyance. Cyril was still
right by his side.

 Having fucking nightmares.

 Trapped.

 In his head, and in this cell.

 Because of Ryan.

 That blow to the head had brought the death of the brother that Ryan
had--

 --couldn't think of that.

 Not when his little kid brother was innocently resting on him. Not when
part of his Cyril was gone forever. It was as starkly clear as a blow to
the head every time Ryan looked at him.

 Just turning him into a child hadn't been enough...

 Oh no.

 Ryan had taken his freedom too.

 Gotten Cyril raped by those fucks.

 All because of him.

 Ryan closed his eyes, unable to look, even as that soft hair stayed under
his fingers. Feather soft graze of his hand, too light even to tickle his
palm. He wasn't sure who it was intended to soothe more -- him or Cyril. 

 Ryan had missed him after landing in Oz. Deep down where he tried to
ignore it, Ryan had selfishly longed for his company that first year.
Child Cyril, any Cyril. The person Ryan had always had by his side, always
there for him. The one person he loved completely. The only real love he'd
had before Gloria.

 At first though, Ryan had thought the distance would be good. He'd tried
to convince himself of it. It was his vain hope for something good out of
his incarceration -- that it would give him time to adjust to the way
Cyril was now. Ryan wouldn't have to...look at that face and remember
every little thing that Cyril didn't anymore.

 All those years past childhood.

 Every night at the bar, every hardship. Every laugh and feeling of
safety.

 ...Those nights in bed that had nothing to do with nightmares and
snuggling. More than comfort. The best. The rough, clinging, so fucking
sweet way Cyril kissed. Making Ryan feel home and a part of someone else. 

 It had fucking hurt to deal with all the shit that was gone staring him
right in the face during that brief time after the accident. Before Oz.

 Ryan had thought it might be better. The distance would help. Cyril would
always be there in his heart, Ryan just wouldn't have to see that blank
face and remember all the damn time.

 But it didn't help. It was worse. Ryan was left with...nothing. Like part
of him was absent, ripped away, and he was truly alone for the only time
in his life. And it had nothing to do with long nights, dark alleys, and
sins. He had no...brace. No one to lean on. No safety at his back. No
other half. No Cyril at all. 

 He would take...anything. Even the innocence of the boy he'd grown up
with. Because it was still Cyril. The love that Ryan felt for Cyril,
whatever he remembered, whatever age, whichever side of the line they were
on, that love Ryan got from him in return -- constant, real, and forever
-- *that* hadn't gone anywhere. And that was the only thing that really
mattered. Some things no amount of blunt force could ever take away from
either of them.

 Even if all those years in between were gone for Cyril. From the big
things -- their mother's death, the years afterwards, their climb up in
the gang, every scar, every girl in between, every big life change side by
side -- to the little memories that meant more, like perfecting their card
game, who won which bet, all the dirty limericks at three in the morning,
the time Ryan had drunk Cyril under the table and then passed out beside
him (Okay, that had possibly been more than one time, and sometimes Ryan
dropped first). Just every time that Ryan had needed...someone to care and
stay, and Cyril had been there. 

 And then there was the rest, the things that had come alive during the
time all those other things were going on. The shadow side of their life,
the real one that they had hidden and kept just for them, tucked away
where they needed it. Somewhere tangled up in those card games, late
nights, and traumas there were those kisses and touches that evolved from
the comfort. Starting from way back when they were first discovering the
joy in other bodies, the slide of skin, sweat, and moans...and had found
that provided by each other also. Shifting, slipping over the boundary
lines of a relationship that hadn't ever felt solid enough to them to stop
them, hold them back. Until it was too late, too good to care if they had
gotten closer than they ever should have in the opinion of anyone else.
Because no one else saw. No one else felt what they did. Their love. To
them...it was just another scarily beautiful thing they had found with it.


 After the accident...Cyril had gotten a clean slate. He was untainted by
what came later with age, after they discovered the pleasure of twisting
touch and stained sheets. 

 Ryan was going to keep it that way now, that wasn't the problem. But Ryan
was forced to confront what he had lost every second he had been around
Cyril since the accident. Cyril was a little kid. The one Ryan remembered
just as fondly from when he was one too. The thought of going back to what
they had turned to when they had started to grow stubble and urges churned
his stomach with disgust. Because of that face. That voice. Ryan just saw
Cyril at 8 years old. That cluelessness. Innocence. And every time it was
a reminder of what was gone.

 Maybe it was better that he didn't remember. Despite Ryan's ache for what
they'd found. Maybe Cyril had forgotten for a reason. Maybe...it was a
gift.

 Ryan may have missed the whole of what had been...but he still had Cyril.
The heart of Cyril. And it was the same. Cyril at his back. By his side.
That was all that really mattered. He had realized it painfully that first
year. 

 So, Ryan got over that loss. Had to. There was no going back to something
everyone else would say they never should have had in the first place.
They went back to before. This. Still comforting each other with touch and
nearness, with solidarity...but without that slide of skin and gasp of
mouths.

 Ryan had always wondered about that day...

 The day of the accident.

 Cyril was usually always his lookout. Ryan kept wondering if maybe Cyril
had let him be discovered with that chick on purpose. Out of jealousy.
That same little twinge Ryan had felt every time Cyril had taken to some
girl. 

 Just made it more Ryan's fault.

 Ryan felt...guilt. A sick tugging hurt in his heart.

 He wasn't used to it.

 It fucking gnawed at him, even when he kept it tucked away to survive,
when he plowed through it to do what had to be done. When he lost sight of
Cyril's needs for his own -- he always felt it afterwards. The only time
he felt things like that.

 The only guilt Ryan had ever really felt was tied up with Cyril. Was for
Cyril. Just like all that warmth and comfort was. All the love. Until
Gloria.

 And Ryan still only felt that gnaw now because Cyril had gotten caught.
If he could do it over...he would be so much more careful. With Cyril,
more than Gloria. 

 Cyril's screaming, crying nightmares hurt more than Gloria's angry words
and tears ever had. They cut Ryan to the quick. Made Ryan understand just
what he had done when he used Cyril.

 And it was never worse than it was in these moments. Trapped under Cyril
after another bad night. Everything he had lost, all the damage he had
caused, and his futile attempts to make it better. Just like when they
were kids, except it wasn't their Pop's fault this time. 

 It was Ryan's.

 Ryan sighed and shifted again, finally stopping that soothing stroke over
Cyril's sleeping head. He tested Cyril's sleep with the tiny movement of
his body as he opened his eyes. Cyril's grip on him tightened in response,
lines creasing his face in sleep, immediately halting Ryan's movement.

 Ryan grimaced at the crick in his neck, the back of his head and his
shoulder starting to go numb from his partial uncomfortable slouch against
the wall. Fucking painful...but it wasn't really that. That was nothing
more than annoying. Ryan was used to warring for space with sleeping
Cyril. He'd done it all his life. Ryan couldn't sleep here though, not
really. Not now. 

 Too afraid he would dream of...Cyril from before the accident. Afraid he
would be lost in it that second he woke up -- and come to like they used
to. Hard and kissing fiercely...before Ryan's memory would kick back in
leave him opening his eyes to a regression that Ryan had no desire to do
that to.

 Who knows what the fuck Cyril would do.

 What if it made him remember?

 Made him...hate Ryan. Because this Cyril couldn't understand that it was
something they both had wanted. Found together. Couldn't grasp it now,
like little kids thought all kissing was disgusting and ran from girls.

 He would run from Ryan.

 It would be better if he never remembered. 

 Ryan sure as hell wished he could forget...

 ...maybe then he wouldn't still ache so much. Wouldn't have had to cling
to Gloria so tight. 

 Ryan decided to give himself ten more minutes there, trapped under
Cyril's warmth, before he pried himself out.

 * End *  Please send feedback to sistersleep.