There is a nuclear bomb shelter in my backyard. A wooden fence forms a square around the small patch of grass we call ours. Near the back of the lot are two green doors that rest on the ground. The padlock and chain that keeps them closed have been removed and lie on the grass nearby. I walk over to my hideout, grab one of the door handles, and yank it open. It creaks before settling on the lawn. Its heaviness will supposedly keep the nuclear radiation off us.

The light is already on, so I find the ladder and a good foothold before pulling the door shut with a groan. Then, as my surroundings darken and the doors block the breeze from outside, I descend a narrow tunnel. Beneath the constricted opening, the room appears. It is roughly eight hundred feet squared, but it has everything we need to survive a nuclear war.

I jump off the ladder and land gracefully on the carpet.

A single bulb hangs from the ceiling, washing everything with its warm glow. The scent of chlorine still lingers in my nostrils. And my eyes, red from swimming, take a moment to survey my environs. There is a bunkbed pressed against the far wall. Filling two shelves on my left were canned produce that my mother and I would eat while we waited for the world to become safe again.

Xavier sits on the sofa, flipping through my collection of Spiderman comics. He rests his legs on the back of the couch while his back sinks into the cushioned seat, his head dangling over the edge.

I sit next to him. I'm conscious of the smooth way his muscles move as he flips over to sit upright. His heel brushes my leg as he settles. He's smiling now, wearing a pair of thick, black-framed glasses to fix his near-sightedness. A weakness he is careful not to share with anyone at school, but he has no trouble sharing with me. His fingers draw swirls on my neck and tug the wet hair drying near my nape. "How was the pool?"

"Empty. Cold."

"And your time?"

"A minute slower than last week."

He responds with a shrug that says, 'That's alright. Not everyone is meant to be an Olympian.'

He touches my lips, tracing their lines and shape as if he has forgotten them after this morning. He parts them to see my teeth, the same curious grin lighting his visage.

"What are you going to do if our parents say we are related?" I ask.

"We're already going to hell for being gay. I guess instead of burning in orange fire, Lucifer will raise the intensity and burn us in blue." Xavier breathes on my lips, sending a tickle down my spine. My penis strains against the tight material of my jeans as Xavier gets on top of my lap and straddles my thighs between his knees. He kisses me, forcing his tongue into my mouth, while his hand slides under my shirt and rubs my belly.

When we part, his breath warms my skin as he says, "So, how are we going to kill you?"

"I haven't given it much thought."

"I'm thinking after finding out my father cheated on my mother. In a fit of rage, I'll slit your neck." His thumb draws a line across my throat. "Or...." Xavier pushes his hand under my shirt and lifts it up to reveal my chest. He pokes my left breast. "I could stab you in the heart."

"Whichever you want."

He smiles against my ear, so I can feel his lips twitch as he murmurs, "Good."

We are interrupted by the sound of the backdoor opening; his father and my mother are talking on the way to our hideout. They stand by the entrance but don't bother to enter. My mother says, "Dinner is ready, boys."

"Be there in a minute or so," Xavier answers.

***

The earl sits at my dinner table. He and I do share a resemblance. Same orange hair and raised cheekbones, blue eyes. His face is older, the skin less tight, and losing some of its youthful glow. My shoulders are almost as broad as his, but he manages to remain taller than me. I have been looking up at him since shortly after I was born.

Earl Dwyer wears a grey suit, while my mother sits next to him in a floral dress. The two of them are more daring than ever. This is nothing short of a family dinner, though the earl is still married to Xavier's mother. It is wrong.

I glance at my plate; a roasted chicken leg coated in mother's secret sauce was surrounded by a lake of string beans. Mother removes her white gloves and places them beside her plate. Her white skin carries few wrinkles or signs of age. She's the type of lady that uses an umbrella on a sunny day to protect her fair complexion. Her black hair, lightly curled, has been manipulated into a complex bun. Her light blue eyes can't seem to find anything as fascinating as the earl.

And they wonder why people think the earl cheated on his wife.

I glance at Xavier. His aversion to green food causes a frown to twist his pink lips as he jabs the beans with a fork. His father chides him, "Stop playing with your food. You're almost eighteen."

"I'm not playing with them, Father; I'm torturing them." Xavier cuts the tip off one of the beans and buries it in the savoury sauce. He nods, acknowledging his work. "A most foul murder."

A vein ticks in Earl Dwyer's jaw, and red quickly spreads across his face as the brightness leaves his eyes. "Why are you like this?" he says, his voice soft, tense. "Why can't you be—"

"Normal?" Xavier interjects. He tilts his head to one side. "Why can't I be more like Lyon, huh?" His hand finds my thigh and squeezes it. My knee jerks high and hits the table; pain radiates through its expanse.

I hold back a curse as I wait for the pain to pass.

Earl Dwyer's frown deepens as his disappointment spreads to me.

Xavier smiles.

Earl Dwyer says, "At least Lyon has a goal; he wants to become a professional swimmer. Have you thought about what you want to be when you're older?"

Xavier thinks quietly, then says sotto voce, "At least I don't spend my life pretending I have money when I don't and live off my father-in-law's wealth."

"You little bastard." Earl Dwyer slaps the table and stands, tensing to hit Xavier.

I get between the two of them and pull Xavier up by his shirt till he stands next to me. I tell my mother and Earl Dwyer, "We'll be in my room. Sorry for the outburst." After a quick bow, I lead Xavier by his collar upstairs, knowing that space would be the only way to keep him and his father from tearing each other apart. Xavier huffs as we step into my room; his nostrils flare as he mutters about how much easier our lives would be if Earl Dwyer left Xavier's mother and her family behind. I tell him, "That may be true, but you didn't have to injure his pride like that."

"His pride?" Xavier snorts. "We wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for him and his pride."

***

Xavier spends the night in my room; the boundaries that separate our two families are breaking down. My mother and Earl Dwyer grow tired of hiding their love. Their quiet laughter fills the night's silence as their record player exhales Brenda Lee's beautiful voice. I imagine them pressing their bodies together, dancing to the slow music.

"Alone, so alone that I could cry

I want to be wanted (wanted)

Alone, watching lovers passing by

I want to be wanted

"When I am kissed

I want his lips to really kiss me

When we're apart

I want his heart to really miss me

I want to know he loves me, so his eyes are misting

That's the way I want to be loved."

Xavier draws his hand up my abdomen, humming along to a song he has heard multiple times. His thumb outlines my pecs. My toes dance in excitement as I anticipate what comes next. We lay on our sides, watching each other quietly. There isn't much we can say; we have already decided to burn in hell, so we can only enjoy the moment.

We press our foreheads together, letting Brenda's voice wash over us. Xavier tilts his head almost lazily and kisses my lips gently.

"Should we do it now?" I ask.

A question lies in the arch of his brow.

"The prank," I remind him.

"Might as well." Xavier yawns, peels the sheet off us and gets out of bed. "I picked up some fake blood from a costume store, thinking we could use it for something." His bare feet pad the tiles as he walks over to his bag.

I lie on the bed, waiting to see how he will kill me. From his bag, Xavier removes a packet of blood that fills the room with a strange chemical scent when he opens it. He returns to my side, rubs the foreign substance over my chest, neck and chin, and splatters some of it on the bed. He pokes my heart. "Dead."

He reaches up and closes my eyelids.

I lie as still as I can.

Xavier screams, and our parents come running. Behind the dark lids of my eyes, I wonder what expressions they're making. Earl Dwyer's calloused hand touches my face. His fingers are longer and thicker than my mother's. Less gentle. "What have you done, Xavier?"

I sense, more than see, Xavier's smile. "You keep saying you have never cheated on Mum, but he's my brother, isn't he?"

Their hands are on my body, searching for the initial wound. The incision that caused all this mess, but they find nothing. The panicky search and ragged breathing stop as my mother twists my ear. "Alright, Lyon's perfectly fine; why don't you boys tell us what's going on?" she asks.

I wince and open my eyes since our prank has been exposed.

Xavier stares at his father, his fingers clenching and unclenching by his side. "If you had told me who he was before, I would have never fallen for him. You ruined any chance we had of being a normal family, so stop telling me to think of him as family. He's not my family."

Earl Dwyer blinks. He sighs and draws his hand over his face. "I didn't mean to keep it secret. I thought you knew. I have always told you to treat him like your brother."

Xavier looks at the ground with a sudden vulnerability that makes his shoulders sag. "You should have told me the truth from the beginning. Unfortunately, I can't help loving him now because I fell for him a long time ago. And I don't feel like being his brother, so find someone else to play that role."

Earl Dwyer holds his son's shoulders. "You have no choice in this matter; you'll treat him as your bother, and that's final."

Water wells in Xavier's eyes and spills down his cheeks. His father ignores his tears and says, "We can fix this; we can be a normal family. I know we can."

My mother looks at me. "Do you feel the same way as him? Are you in love with Xavier?"

I swallow as my throat slowly tightens. After a few deep breaths, I manage to relax and say, "I didn't know Xavier felt this way about me. I'm sorry, but I have never thought of him as anything more than a good friend." I can almost feel the temperature in my room fall as Mother ruffles my hair, and Xavier's eyes narrow at my betrayal.

Earl Dwyer pats his son's back and says, "I know a camp that will straighten you out. It'll remove all these impure emotions and make you see Lyon as a brother. We'll try being a family again once you're fixed."

Xavier and his father leave that night; I sit on the windowsill, with one leg hanging outside, heel brushing the brick wall as I watch them go. Xavier sits in the back of his father's black jaguar. He looks up as the car pulls out of the driveway and spies me perched with half my body hanging outside. I wave, but Xavier ignores me and faces forward as his father takes him to his new prison.

***