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There was nothing that Bård loved more than to see Vegard wake up. It was usually – well, with female partners, Bård knew they were embarrassed about the very first moments they woke up. At least until they were in full makeup, they would shy away from you. Vegard though, he obviously wasn't going to wear a full face of makeup.

His breath even smelled sometimes too when he woke up. Vegard was far from perfect in such regards. There was no real explicit reason as to why the blond loved his brother so much, just as there was no real reason to why he loved seeing the other wake up. Well... He could count out a million reasons why a person should love the black and curly haired man, but to him, these just fell away to the side and he opened himself up to whatever the universe had in store.

Bård was watching Vegard sleep this time. They had a bit much to drink and there was nothing other than to accept the headache that would be forthcoming in the morning and to fall asleep. There had been many laughs, much tears from laughter. That was always something they could share with one another, alone from the rest of the world yet together with one another.

When did they even discover that they loved one another? When had they finally confessed it? Who was the crook for stealing the other man's heart? Obviously they both had a thing for one another because besides the initial shock, it came and settled upon one another quite quickly. Bård remembered the days of confused feelings, the whole brother thing, the not being big on incest. Or, well, so he had thought?

Since now, he loved Vegard more than anything. There was no way to describe it and he certainly couldn't do it in his mostly inebriated state. He played with the other man's hair, and he sighed and felt angst that the other man was not awake. Not that he wanted to do anything – not that the little brother was a corrupt android or something devoid of innocence. He just wanted his dues. He wanted love.

He felt the pain too though, the fact that his fingertips could never brush against Vegard's in public. He felt that pain deeply, and he just lived with it. Besides, their private moments outside of the lime light, they were perfect together. He could sit and listen to the other about his nerdy interests for ages, he really could, but his comedic timing usually threw him out and made him talk and shut the other up.

There was just complete and utter love for one another. Soon enough his breath was falling against Vegard's cheek, as he was pushed against the other. He squeezed himself in with the man who would pretend to be Dutch, the man who could easily get rated a 9 or 10 in Norwegian or English.

Wanting the other so badly – there was no undertones to it, he just wanted the touch of Vegard''s coarse skin. The other hadn't shaved for a while, over the weekend, and the whole Turkish joke thing led to thick hair being sparsely spread across his face. Bård planted a sleepy kiss to the other brother, and he fell asleep himself.

By some miracle, he woke up just in time to watch Vegard yawn, and he could even he himself feel Vegard yawn. The long curls were bobbing and shaking, ree from their weekly constraints of gel and other products. Now they would have to collect themselves together and Bård just hated it, he wished sometimes their weekend getaways could last forever.

If they did though, they would probably easily get tired of one another. There was the sense of taboo and the sense of action and excitement and secrecy, all this led to a wonderful lust and a wonderful downfall where they would slowly slide into domestic roles.

Vegard pushed himself away from Bård though, and the first words out of his perfect mouth fell upon loving ears.

“Where's the hangover medicine?”