Thomas looked down the field, the shared backyard between his family and the Leslies, over his brother, crouched before him. On his right was his father, on his left Victor. On Roland’s left was Niel, and on his right Xavier, Misses Harmand’s grandson and the running back on Roland’s high school football team.

Thomas pawed the football before him, glancing at Eric, who nodded, and Victor, who shrugged. He glared at his brother, facing him.

“We doing this?” Niel asked. “Or are you two just going to lovingly gaze into each other’s eyes all afternoon?”

The calico snickered. “I think Roland’s falling in love with Thomas, now that he’s no longer a beanpole.”

Thomas grabbed the ball as Roland started turning to reply to Xavier and ran. He turned at the last minute, slipping between his brother and the calico. Behind him, Eric let out a muffled grunt as he, probably by Niel, was tackled.

Thomas smiled. They were finally going to—

The weight landing on his back sent him crashing to the grass, and the ball rolled out of his hands.

He felt his brother breath in his ear, far too close. Was Roland going to—

“You lose,” his brother whispered.

Thomas shrugged Roland off his back before his imagination took what had happened any further than it already had. He had a frat full of guy satiating him. He shouldn’t think of his brother that way anymore.

Especially since Roland was using the friendly game to make Thomas pay for the two of them sharing his room. Whether Thomas had the ball or not, he always ended up on the ground with his brother on top of him.

He glared at Roland, who replied with an evil grin.

Thomas did not look at his brother’s crotch as he got to his feet.

He was going to have to take Paul off on his offer of relief before the day was over. Fuck, before the hour was over, the way things were going.

“The game’s still eight for us,” Niel said, “and nada for you. And we’re holding the ball.”

“You know did this your fault, right dad?” Victor said, helping their father to his feet.

“It’s good for us to help Roland stay in the game during the holiday,” Eric replied.

Victor rolled his eyes. “I am so happy the extent of my physical activities when I was their age was three days a week at the gym.”

“The weights,” Grandma Royer called from where she sat under the awning with the others watchers, “or those going to the gym?”

“Exercise is exercises, Luisa,” Victor replied with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter how it happens.” He winked at Thomas. “Isn’t that right?”

Thomas’s ears burned as an embarrassed groan escaped him.

“Places,” Eric called.

“You know,” the calico said, taking position on Roland’s left, “this would be more fair to them if one of us was on their team. I’ll change place with Thomas. That way he can stand behind you, Rol, hands between your legs, waiting for you to deposit your ball in them.”

“You want me to tell Coach to bench you for the rest of the year?” Roland snapped.

“Now, now, Roland,” Eric chastised his son. “This is a friendly game. There’s no need to threaten your teammate.”

Roland looked down and when he looked up, he fixed his hard gaze on Thomas instead of their father. The rat sighed. Their father was oblivious to the tension between them.

Roland exchanged a look with Niel and Xavier, who both nodded, then took off toward Thomas like a train with him tied to the rails.

Thomas tried to avoid the collision. He jigged right and left, but his brother moved with him. Maybe to the watchers it looked like it was Thomas to expertly planning an intercept when in reality, Thomas would be the victim. At the last moment, Roland zagged instead of zigged and he was around Thomas.

He sighed in relief before turning, but it was too late then, the other rat was at the end of the yard, throwing the ball down and raising his hands in victory, turning in place slowly to give everyone a look at his hot body.

Thomas shook himself. No, that was in his head. He doubted any of the spectators through that. Definitely not Grandma Royer, Neil’s dad, or Xavier’s grand mother. Uncle Niero and his husband, maybe? But Thomas doubted their minds were trying to turn the victory move into an invitation.

“And that makes it nine to nada,” Niel stated. “How about you guys give up now?”

“No,” Victor stated, before Thomas could yell his yes.

The calico stared at them. “Wow. Even Elmire High isn’t that much of a glutton for punishment.” He grinned. “Remember how they stormed off the field when we scored our tenth touchdown while they hadn’t managed a single point?”

“Yeah,” Roland said darkly. “Coach had us in the locker for the rest of the game going over every mistake we made.” He shoved the ball in Thomas’s stomach hard enough he was sure that if not for Madoc’s training, he’d be unable to breathe. Roland gave him a dismissive once over. “Balls you’re. Enjoy it while you can.”

Thomas sighed. His brother had all but promised a hard tackle with that tone. He looked at his father, but Eric was already in position, with Victor taking his. There would be no help there. As far as their father was concerned, this friendly game might as well be the deciding factor for Roland getting into the NFL.

Thomas took his position between the two. Maybe he’d just be too sore by the time this was over for anything else to bother him.

* * * * *

“And that’s fifteen to nada!” Niel called from the other end of the yard.

Thomas shoved Roland off him, yet again. He hadn’t even had the ball this time. This was turning into an outright vendetta. Thomas had tried to explain he didn’t want to be in his brother’s room, but Roland stormed off anytime he approached him. His brother couldn’t seem to stand being three feet from Thomas. How could their parent expect the arrangement to lead to anything other than Thomas’s death?

“Thomas?” Nadia called from the back door as he got to his feet. “I need your help in the kitchen?”

“He’s in a game, Mom!” Roland replied, glaring at his brother.

“Duty calls.” Thomas grinned to cover his relief. “I guess you don’t get to tackle me anymore.”

“Mom!” Roland yelled, his town turning whiny. “We need him for the game.” She was already inside the house, so he turned to Eric. “Dad, what about my future?”

“Dad!” Niel called as Thomas hurried to the house. “How about you take Thomas’s place?”

The answer was lost behind the closing door.

“He’ll get over it,” his mother said, indicating the cutting board and vegetables next to it.

“Mom, at his age, his bedroom’s a sacred place.” Thomas did the usual look around for the camera. Sometimes his mother recorded them doing some of the work for her show. “There is no getting over me invading it.”

She rolled her eyes. “You had no problems having him in your room when you were his age.”

“We never,” he stated, frowning.

She chuckled. “Of course you did, sweetie. When he had nightmares, he’d crawl into your bed instead of ours and you’d hold him so he’d feel safe. Don’t you remember?”

“He was a kid, Mom. Not nearly an adult. It wasn’t the same.” And back then, Thomas wasn’t envisioning what having his brother in bed with him could lead to.

And he wasn’t going to think about that right not. No, he wasn’t.

Once the vegetables were cut and the salad assembled, his mother set him before the pot, preparing the cranberry sauce. It was nearly fully reduced by the time Roland, Victor, and Eric entered the house.

“Xavier and Alita had to leave to get ready to celebrate with their family, and neither Niero nor Karlos wanted to replace him.” He stepped to Nadia, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“Not smelling like that in my kitchen, you don’t,” she said, smirking. “Shower, all three of you.”

“Dibs!” Roland took off the instant the world left his lips.

Victor sighed. “Someone tell me Judith is off with that panda she’s enamored of.”

“No such luck, bro,” she said, stepping into the kitchen, “and just for that, you’re going to have to grovel if you plan on convincing me to let you use my shower.”

“Come on, sis,” Victor complained. “I’m not going to be in it even ten minutes. And you aren’t using it right now.” The rest of his complaining left with him as he trailed after their sister, who turned around in a huff and vanished.

“How about you?” Eric asked Nadia. “Can I get you permission to use your shower?” he lowered his voice. “What’s it going to cost me to have you in there with me?”

She considered his offer. “You can use the shower. As for the price of having me in it with you, I guess it’s going to have to be letting Niero take over the cooking, since I’ll be otherwise occupied.”

Thomas heard his father’s brain derail.

“Errr.” Eric looked at the door. “Can’t your mother take over instead? You remember when he insisted on doing the cooking? You know, four years ago?”

She chuckled. “It’s basically all done. My brother can’t mess that up.”

Eric looked at her, entirely serious. If Thomas hadn’t seen and heard the lust his father had radiated only seconds ago, he’d have thought it had never been there. “Nadia, you are underestimating your brother. How Karlos is still alive, I’ll never know.”

She kissed his cheek. “Then you’ll have to shower alone. Don’t worry, once everyone’s in bed, we can make it up to each other.

His father adjusted his pants as he walked out of the kitchen. Thomas stifled the sigh as yet one more thing was added to the most awkward Thanksgiving ever.

He checked the sauce, which he’d kept stirring without having to think about it. Almost thick enough. Two minutes later, he moved the pot to the side as his mother took the turkey out of the over.

“Your turn to shower, Thomas,” she instructed in that tone that silenced his protest.

He headed up the stairs and, not hearing the shower running, grabbed a change of clothes from his suitcase by his brother’s desk. At least he wasn’t there to complain about Thomas invading it again.

The door to the bathroom opened as Thomas approached it and the reason Roland hadn’t been in his bedroom was now clear as he stood in the doorway clad only in a towel around his waist. Thomas fought the urge to glance down, and because of that, didn’t step aside in time, and Roland shouldered him out of his way.

Thomas watched that broad back, his eye drifting low, noticing the low-riding towel under the tail before catching himself and looking away. He slammed the door shut and leaned against it. He looked up. “God, please have my brother dress in something nice and loose? I can’t deal with all that bulging that is going on with his body.”

With a sigh to chase away the image of one bulge in particular, he located what had to be the last dry spot left, put his change of clothing on it, and undressed. Straightening after taking off his pants, he paused, looking at his reflection; wondering who he was looking at. He ran a hand over his chest, and the reflection did the same, over abs. He looked down, and he did have abs. Of course, he had abs with all the training he’d done. He flexed his arm, and the biceps bulged. 

Why was it only now registering that he was kind of buff? The frat had mirrors, and it wasn’t like he’d avoided looking into them. Or course, each time, there had also been the reflection of one of his frat brothers, naked and much more muscular than he was. Two distractions that might account for how his developing body hadn’t fully registered.

Here, without them in the reflection and the memories of how that reflection should have looked in this particular mirror, the contrast was too strong for him to miss.

Fuck, was there more to his brother being pissed at him than having to share his room? Thomas tried to pose the way he’d seen the guys do at the gym. Was Roland jealous because he wasn’t the only buff guy in the house?

Thomas laughed at his pitiful attempt and at the idea his brother would ever feel threatened by Thomas. He was still the one with the real muscle and definitely the hotter of them both. Hot enough that—

Damn it. Thomas pulled his hand from his groin, stepped into the shower and turned it on as cold as it would go, hoping his cock would shrivel into none existence.

When that didn’t work, he had to use his hand to have any chance of enjoying dinner without his mind doing where it had no business going.

* * * * *

“So,” Niero said as Thomas checked his phone. “How are you adjusting to living at Sigma Theta Gamma?” It was nearly three pm. Were they really going to wait for his aunt to arrive before eating? Any longer and they’d all starve.

“Yeah, do they all fit in you properly?” Karlos asked, and Thomas’s head snapped up. He couldn’t have said—

“Subtler on the innuendo, hun,” Niero told his husband. “I’m sure Thomas is a perfect fit for all of them.”

Thomas’s ears burned. He had said that.

His uncle smiled. “How many in—”

“Why is it Royers have no shame?” he asked, sinking into the cushions.

“It’s what makes them so damned attractive,” the cougar answered, leaning against his rat.

“I thought it was my—”

Thomas groaned and covered his ears.

“I was going to say bank account,” his uncle said, offended. Karlos laughed and Thomas glared.

“Oh sure. And is your back account still ten inches?” Thomas froze, then covered his mouth. “I can’t believe I said that.”

Neiro patted his leg. “You’re half Royer, it was going to happen. You need to learn to be comfortable talking about this stuff.” He smiled. “And yes, I’m still ten inches. I’m so glad you remembered the stories.”

“Someone help,” Thomas mumbled.

The doorbell rang, and he escaped out of his seat to answer. On the other side stood a rat in a sharp brown suit.

“Aunt Corina.” Thomas hugged her. Finally, they’d get to eat. “I am so glad you’re here.” He stepped out of the way and she entered.

“I’m glad to finally be here,” she replied. “Sorry we’re late, but the flight was delayed, then there was problem getting the car.”

“I told you could have dealt with that,” another rat said, stepping into view.

“Thomas,” she said, “this is Ettore Lewiston. Ettore, this is my favorite nephew, Thomas Hertz.” She raised her hand and showed the ring. She lowered her voice. “Ettore’s my fiancée.” She grinned. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” Thomas replied, awed by the diamond on the ring surrounded by emeralds and rubies. “Just let me go tell everyone to put on sunglasses before you move any further.” For fake stones, they were fantastic, and must still have cost a mint.

He offered his future uncle in law his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to the family. Word of warning, they liked to tell stories. Don’t let those scare you off. I need someone else in this family who isn’t going to recount his exploits at the smallest excuse.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Ettore replied, taking his hand, while his aunt gave Thomas a smile that worried him before she was pulled into an embrace by Eric. “And don’t worry, I’ll wait until everyone has told their stories before volunteering any information.”

Thomas stared. It couldn’t be. Aunt Corina couldn’t be so jealous of his father that she’d somehow found a man just as bad as his mom. Until recently, he’d have said no one could be as bad as the Royers, but he had a frat full of guys, each from a different family who were that bad. “Wait, you’re a Lewiston?” talk about stacking coincidences. “I know a Lewiston. You can’t can’t be related, can you?”

“Distantly,” someone outside said, and Ettore stepped out of the way to reveal Madoc, holding a boy in his arms. He took the same arm and gently waved it at Thomas. “Pryce, this is Thomas, your daddy’s frat brother, and an amazing lay. Thomas, this is Pryce, my son.”