Bright sunlight streaming through the bedroom window announced the arrival of morning and, for the first time in recent memory, Michael woke feeling fully rested. He'd actually slept through the night! A vague memory of dreams persisted, but they dissipated like smoke through a closing fist - and he hadn't woken up screaming.

He yawned and stretched, then jumped back in terror when his arm brushed against something that shouldn't have been there. Heart pounding, covers drawn up to his chin, he stared in shock at the black hair lying on the white pillow case next to him. Heavy breathing, just shy of a snore, rumbled from the sleeping form. Michael let out a relieved sigh, suppressing a laugh at his noisy bed partner.

Jay lay sprawled on his stomach, well-muscled back, arms, and broad shoulders on glorious display.

Last night had ended in the bedroom where, head comfortably cradled on a lightly furred chest, Michael had fallen asleep to the sound of a steady heartbeat. His guest's presence must have held his nightmares at bay, for the phantom soldiers hadn't put in an appearance all night.

His eyes raked hungrily over the warm honey of his new lover's skin. He gently picked up the edge of the sheet, lifting it slowly so he wouldn't be caught ogling. Jay's broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, and his ass was just as firm and muscled as the rest of him. Although he sported a good deal of dark body hair, the firm round cheeks hiding under the sheets were virtually fur-free. With a sigh Michael lowered the cover, smoothing it down as he continued to admire the view.

He wished his own personal Texan would roll over so he could admire that handsome face while Jay slept, but didn't want to wake him. So he sat quietly, watching the steady rise and fall of his lover's back. A smile crept across his face at the realization that, for the first time in his adult life, he felt peaceful and content. He savored the moment for as long as he could before a full bladder forced him to leave the bed and the warm body lying there. Reluctantly he the slipped from the room, easing the door shut behind him.

After relieving himself and washing up, he found a pair of reasonably clean sweatpants and a T-shirt, and quickly dressed. He started the coffee pot and rummaged in his refrigerator, looking for something suitable to serve for breakfast. The coffee had finished brewing and he was just removing sautéed peppers and onions from the skillet when a gentle tapping interrupted him. With a quick glance to his closed bedroom door, Michael hurried to let his visitor in, thinking it was his mother inviting him to Sunday school. He'd politely decline and she'd leave, not fuss, no muss, none the wiser.

However, it wasn't an easy-going Mom who respected his privacy, but a meddlesome Angie with absolutely no qualms about invading his personal space until her curiosity was satisfied and he had no secrets left.

"What are you doing here?" Michael asked suspiciously.

She folded her arms across her chest and scowled.

"Sorry, that didn't come out right. Let's try again. Good morning, Angie."

A saccharinely sweet smile plastered itself to her face. "Hello, brother dear. Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to invite me in?"

Invite her in? His eyes darted to the closed door and he attempted to hide his guilt from her all-seeing eyes. Hoping to keep the visit short without being too obvious, he stood aside and let her in. Sooner or later they'd have to talk if things developed with Jay but, at the moment, later got his vote.

"Hmmm... You can tell Jay's been here," she observed as she wandered through his new apartment.

The blood froze in Michael's veins. "What did you say?" he stammered, noticing the soda cans and paper plates lying on the coffee table - a dead giveaway that he'd had a visitor the night before.

Oblivious to his shock, Angie continued to scrutinize the apartment's walls with a critical eye, looking pleased. "Jay did such a great job with the painting, don't you think?" Finally noticing Michael's pained expression, she looked at him curiously and asked, "You did know that he helped Mom fix up this place, right?"

"Oh, that! Yeah, she told me," he lied. It was then that her words sank in. "You mean you've never been up here before?" Please don't ask to see the bedroom, please don't ask to see the bedroom…he silently pleaded.

"Well..." she began, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "Grandpa kinda told me not to 'drive you insane by invading your privacy.' But I think I've behaved myself long enough, and now it's time to come hang out with my bro," she said happily.

He eased between her and the coffee table, effectively blocking her view. When she turned to gaze out the window, two paper plates disappeared under the couch cushions. The soda cans found a new home under a throw pillow.

Oblivious to his impromptu housekeeping she continued, "And in answer to your question, no, I haven't been up here since they finished the place. I was too busy studying. But I helped in the beginning. I chose the carpet and paint; you can think me later for my exquisite taste."

The mention of carpet drew his eyes down to where a rumpled black T-shirt lay. Why hadn't he taken it, too, when he picked up his own?

She continued her inspection, pausing to thumb through his CDs, moving ever closer to the bedroom door while he discreetly pushed the shirt under the couch with his toe.

He watched in horror as she moved closer and closer. Jay snored! Surely she'd hear him and ask questions! In desperation he blurted, "I made coffee, want some?"

The diversion worked. "Oh…coffee! I could sure use a cup," she replied. Michael blew out his breath in a heavy sigh of relief, leading her over to the small bar that divided the kitchen from the living area. He sat on a stool facing the bedroom, strategically placing her back to it.

With feigned nonchalance he glanced at the clock. "My, my, would you look at the time? Don't you have to get to church? You wouldn't want to be late for Sunday school."

"Michael Ritter," she snapped. "If I didn't know better I'd think you didn't want me here!"

"No, it's not that," he stammered, "I just don't want you to be late."

She grinned mischievously. "I'm blowing off Sunday school and I've got plenty of time before preaching. Say," she added brightly, "why don't you come with me?"

The blood drained from his face. Thankfully, she let him off the hook before he had to concoct an excuse - something he really wasn't good at. "Oh, that's right. Looks like you were in the middle of making breakfast. Well, don't let me stop you," she said pleasantly. She took a sip of coffee and scrunched her face in distaste. "Please don't tell me this is decaf."

"Okay," Michael agreed, "I won't tell you."

She waved her cup at him and whined, "But it's decaf! How could you? Mom raised you better than that!"

With a sigh Michael reminded her, "Caffeine is bad for my 'condition.'" 'Condition' was said with the same amount of affection Angie used for 'decaf.' Silently he wished she'd be so repulsed that she'd just go before her curiosity got the better of her and she started snooping.

She took another sip, wrinkled her nose and sighed. "Sorry, kiddo, I forgot. If it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me," she said.

Okay, so that didn't work. He needed to find the reason for her visit and get her out of there. "So, what brings you here so early?" he asked in desperation.

"What? Since when do I need an excuse to come see my favorite brother?"

"I'm your only brother, Ang," he reminded her.

"Ahh…so you are."

This was far from the first time they'd had this conversation, and he knew from experience that it meant she was up to something, something he probably wasn't going to like. "Okay, Angie, out with it," he urged, resigning himself to his fate.

"You don't trust me!" she exclaimed in mock indignation, giving him her best innocent look. Unfortunately, her performance fell short of innocence, only managing to achieve 'not-yet-found-guilty-by-a-jury-of-her-peers.'

Not about to be taken in by her antics, he raised an eyebrow skeptically and glared. "Angie…."

"Oh, all right! I wanted to talk to you about Jay," she finally admitted.

Michael's heart somersaulted. She couldn't know, she couldn't possibly know! "What about him?" Michael croaked, fighting the urge to just push her out the door and be done with it.

"Well, I just wanted to ask you how you feel about him."

Oh my God, she knows, she knows!! Taking a deep, cleansing breath he tried to think rationally. This was Angie. If she knew she wouldn't be coy, she'd just come right out and say it. Since getting rid of her wasn't an option, he switched tactics and instead willed Jay to remain asleep and safely inside the room until she was gone.

"I know you don't do anything without a reason," he said defensively, "so I want to know why you're asking." He leaned back on the stool, stubbornly crossing his arms across his chest.

Angie sighed. Michael recognized that sigh. It usually occurred before something he didn't want to hear. Sighs like that were often followed by things like, "I lost your favorite CD", "I put a huge dent in your car," or, "Sorry, but your cat just died."

Today it heralded, "Well, let's just say that I believe that he likes you-a lot. I care about both of you and don't want to see anyone get hurt." Okay, that wasn't as bad as he'd been expecting.

He answered noncommittally, "Well, I'll admit we've hit it off pretty well since we met." 'Yeah, that's an understatement,' he added to himself, certain images from the previous night replaying in his mind.

"Yeah, well I don't mean 'friend' like, I mean 'like' like," she told him.

He swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the brick that had just formed in his throat. "What you talking about, Angie?" he asked. He had a bad feeling about this, a really bad feeling.

Angie smiled, undeterred. "Well, for one thing, he's been talking about you one hell of a lot lately."

He had? Michael's eyes darted to the bedroom door, his mind seeing the naked man sprawled across his bed. He shook his head to clear those thoughts before they triggered a tell-tale physical response, taking a sip of coffee. Five more minutes. Five more minutes and you've got to get her out of here, he told himself. "That doesn't mean anything," he managed to say. "Mom talks about him all the time, but it doesn't mean a damn thing."

His sister smiled indulgently setting her cup down as she dropped another verbal bomb. "Yeah, well he doesn't keep a picture of Mom hidden in his dresser drawer."

"He what!?" Angie loved to surprise him, but she'd outdone herself this time. Jay's comment, " I keep pictures of the ones I love…" flashed through his mind.

Grinning wildly now, obviously pleased that she'd scored a direct hit - though she didn't know the half of it - Angie pressed on, "Yeah, he saw that picture of you; the one that was taken when you were inducted in the army. The official uniform one."

He responded nervously, "Yeah, so?"

His sister watched him like he'd once seen his grandfather's barn cat watch a field mouse - right before he ate it. "Jay was just being Jay when he first saw it. He didn't know I had a brother at the time and thought that picture was of my boyfriend. So he made some catty remarks about how hot you were."

Michael blushed, turning away. Jay thought he was hot? Unfortunately, judging by her knowing smirk, Angie noticed. And it was clear she intended tell the story as slowly as possible. He wanted to shake her and yell, "Just spit it out, already!"

Unaware of how close she was to a good shaking, she fed him just enough information to whet his appetite. "He was obsessed by that picture, especially when he found out you were my brother. So, I kinda tested him."

If Michael had hackles they would have risen in alarm. He had endured some of Angie's tests himself on occasion. They usually didn't end well-for him. "Tested him how?"

"Well, I left the picture out, just to see what he'd do."

Gamely he asked, "What did he do?"

She just grinned and sipped her coffee. It was so quiet that he could hear the clock ticking on the wall and the muted thrum of Sunday morning traffic outside. Wait, was that a noise from the bedroom? Holding his breath, Michael listened intently, finally exhaling, relieved, when he heard an engine start down the street. It had just been a car door slamming. Forcing himself to relax, he took a healthy mouthful of coffee and unwittingly played into her hands.

With a wicked grin she said, "Well, let's just say I had to get myself a new picture."

Michael sprayed the countertop with hot coffee, dissolving into hacking coughs as he choked. The demonic, evil being that had possessed his sister thumped his back a little harder than necessary.

"He stole your picture?" he asked when he'd recovered enough to breathe again.

She laughed evilly, obviously enjoying her little game. "Yep. I never saw it again until about two months before you came home. I wanted to borrow a pair of his thick socks, and I knew he wouldn't mind so…."

"So you snooped in his room," Michel finished for her, mopping up the coffee mess with a dish towel. Again his eyes shot to the bedroom door, his heart racing as sunlight reflecting off a passing car flashed across the door, creating the illusion that it was opening.

"Hey, that's not fair! I wasn't snooping," Angie argued, "I was just borrowing socks!"

Michael snorted his disbelief. "So, what happened then?" He briefly debated tying her to a chair and interrogating her like he'd seen in bad spy movies, bright lights and all, alternated with images of launching her physically from his apartment in a giant catapult.

"Well," she said dramatically, "I found what had happened to the picture. It was just lying there in his sock drawer."

"So he buried it in his sock drawer; that means he likes me, why?" Please just make your point and go, please just go….

"Michael, Michael, Michael," Angie said dramatically, placing her small, freckled hand on his arm and talking slowly, as though explaining to a child. "The picture looked liked it had been handled….a lot. The edges were all ragged. And he framed it."

"Oh." He framed it?

"Yeah, 'oh.' He used to ask a lot of questions about you, but I figured it was just curiosity, or maybe missing his own family. He has about a bazillion siblings."

"Six."

"What?"

"He has six sisters, he told me." He also told me their names and ages, and if they're anything like you, God help him.

"Hmmm….telling you about his family now, huh?" She grinned suggestively before continuing, "Well, anyway, like I said, he just kept asking questions about you." Waggling her eyebrows she said, "Then when he found out you were coming home he got really nervous about meeting you. I've known the man for four years now. Trust me, he doesn't do nervous. But he fretted for weeks. He even got a haircut the day before you came home." She whispered conspiratorially, "That's why I asked him to drive you over here, so y'all could get to know each other."

"Why you..." he began, knowing he really should be grateful for her meddling…look where it got him! Suddenly, he recalled something that had been bugging him. "Angie, how come you never mentioned Jay was gay before?"

"Huh?"

"Well, in your letters and emails you always mentioned your friend Jay, but I thought he was your boyfriend."

"I didn't?" she asked, her eyes skittering to the side. He recognized guilt when he saw it, but remained silent. "Well, you know the number one rule, right? Never out anybody. I didn't think you'd care, anyway." Her scarlet blushing belied her words.

Finally, he lost patience with her little game. "Out with it, Angie." He all but yelled her name, hoping that if Jay was awake he'd hear and know it wasn't safe to come out.

"Well, I was kind of hoping that you'd meet and like each other, so I didn't want to say too much about him. There was no telling what four years in the military might have done to my loving, tolerant brother."

"And Mom? Seems she would have mentioned it." The light bulb suddenly went on for him. With narrowed eyes he asked, "Is this some kind of conspiracy?"

Given her slow, plodding storytelling up until now, her reply was too quick to be the complete truth. "Well, I don't know about Mom, but he asked me lots of questions about you, and I knew he had the picture." Angie stared pointedly at her coffee cup, avoiding his accusing glare. "I figured eventually he'd move on to someone he actually knew, or that y'all would finally meet and be friends."

Oh shit, maybe it would be better if Jay weren't listening in.

This was just too surreal. His mom was a co-conspirator. It figured. Neither woman would deliberately hurt anyone, but he worried what effects their meddling, as well intentioned as it might be, could have on Jay. The need to defend his lover momentarily outweighed his fear of Angie discovering his secret. "Do you really think that was fair to him?"

Angie sighed and shook her head, no longer smiling. "I know, I know. It was wrong for me to encourage his little crush, knowing you're straight. But you should have seen him, how excited he was that he'd finally get to meet you. He's a good guy. I really want both of you to be happy. I'm sorry if I meddled, I just got carried away, I guess."

"So what's got you so concerned now that you had to come over here on a Sunday and talk to me?" Yeah, why don't you leave and come back on Monday…

"Well, I know you like him…..as a friend," she quickly clarified. "I just thought I should warn you that his feelings for you might be deeper than that. I know you're not a homophobe and wouldn't hurt him physically, but I worry about you hurting him emotionally. I wanted to talk to you before we go for Sunday dinner with the grandparents, 'cause I know they invited Jay again, so he'll probably be there."

Uncomfortably under her intense scrutiny, he stood and busied himself by pouring another cup of coffee.

"Could I get a reheat?" she asked, extending her cup. He sighed. If he gave her more coffee she'd stay to drink it, but he couldn't think of a way to refuse that wouldn't hurt her feelings. After topping off her cup and replacing the pot on the warmer, he washed his hands and resumed preparing breakfast, needing to burn off the nervous tension before he snapped like an over-wound rubber band.

"Damn, boy, reckon you chopped enough onions and peppers?" she asked, appearing at his elbow to stare into the half-filled bowl.

Michael jumped to suddenly find her so close, frantically searching for a convincing lie. "I'm making meatloaf later."

She reminded him, "We're eating at Grandma and Grandpa's.

Okay, maybe it wasn't such a convincing lie. "I meant tomorrow," he stammered, turning his back, knowing it was lame even as he said it. Wasn't she ready to leave yet?

"So?"

"So what?" He had to hand it to her, when she set her mind to something, she was nearly impossible to distract.

"Will you please be careful with Jay and try not to hurt him?"

"What makes you think I'd hurt him?" He turned his back to her, shielding himself from her prying eyes so he could blush in private.

"Well, if he thought you were receptive he might take that as encouragement and pursue you. Don't get me wrong, he'd never go where he wasn't welcome, and pardon my saying so, but you were sending out some mixed signals at the party the other night."

Oh my God! So she'd been paying attention after all! He forced down panic, wondering how many others had noticed. "What do you mean by receptive and mixed signals?" he asked, willing himself to stay calm. Sooner or later he'd have to tell her the truth, but he needed to discuss it with Jay first. No need to tell her about their relationship if it was only to be it a casual thing. He didn't think she'd be angry no matter what he told her, but still, now was just not the time!

"Come on, brother mine; when it comes to these things, you're clueless!"

"I'm clueless?" I'm hiding a naked man - your best friend - in my bedroom and you think I'm clueless? he thought to himself.

She snorted, a very unfeminine sound to be coming from such a delicate looking female. "Yeah, girls used to hit on you all the time and you were totally oblivious."

"They did not," he said weakly.

"Did, too! And the other night girls and guys were making you some pretty obvious offers and you just brushed them off like you didn't care. But I know you, lil bro; you probably just didn't notice. I was worried about Terry there for a few minutes…"

Finally, to his immense relief, she dropped the subject. "Oh, Michael," she crooned, "that's so sweet of you, but you forgot that I can't eat eggs."

Her expression would have been comical if he'd had a clue to what she was talking about. Then he looked down and saw two plates sitting in front of him, one completely covered by a three-egg omelet while another bubbled in the pan. He was cooking Jay breakfast without even realizing it! Backpedaling hard, he attempted a recovery. "Damn, I'm sorry, Ang. You're right, I did forget. Would you like some toast instead?" Holy shit! How could he have been so stupid!

She joined him by the stove, rising up on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "No, but that's really nice of you. Anyway, what I was saying…." She suddenly leaned in again, her eyes narrowing critically as she stared at his collar. "Is that…?"

Before he could stop her she reached over, grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled, the look of wicked glee on her face confirming what she'd seen. "Oh, somebody got lucky," she sing-songed. "Ok, lil bro - out with it! Who is she?"

Right on cue the bedroom door opened and a very handsome, very naked man walked out, rubbing his eyes and murmuring, "Michael?" Jay and Angie saw each other at the same time and froze, while Michael contemplated having the nervous breakdown he'd been building up to all morning. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…

Angie was the first to break the silence. "Way to go, Mikey," she crowed to her brother, eyes never leaving her roommate. She blatantly looked him up and down and remarked, "Nice package, Jay."

That broke the spell, and Jay moved so fast that he was there one minute and gone the next, the bedroom door slamming behind him.

Angie calmly looked over at Michael and remarked, "You hurt him and I'll hurt you. If he hurts you, I'll hurt him."

Michael swallowed hard and stared at her open-mouthed. You never knew what to expect out of Angie, but he was glad she had his back. Still, his heart hammered wildly as he stammered, "You're okay with this?"

He could have counted her teeth, she grinned so wide. "Are you kidding? Mom'll be over the moon! But, it does look like I got here a little late for our 'Jay likes you' talk. Sorry," she added unapologetically.

Trailing her fingertips up his arm, she brought them to rest against his cheek, patting it affectionately. "Just answer me this: is it serious?"

The cat was out of the bag, he might as well be honest. "It is for me."

"And for him?"

He wished he could answer that Jay felt the same, but he wouldn't lie to her about such a thing. "We haven't had a chance to discuss it yet."

An elegantly groomed eyebrow arched in surprise. "So, last night was the first time?"

"Angie! That is sooo not your business!" Michael yelled.

"Just asking." Hands held up defensively, adding, "You can't blame a girl for trying."

Bending to retrieve her purse from the couch where she'd dropped it earlier, she paused for a moment and then exclaimed, "Aha!" She straightened, holding aloft the T-shirt Jay had worn the night before, a triumphant smile on her face. "Well, well, well…what have we here?"

Grateful his own stained shirt was put into the laundry minutes before her arrival, he held out his hand, waiting for her to give up her prize.

"Spoilsport," she pouted, handing it over. "Well, my work here is done so I guess I'll be going." She flashed him another mirthful grin. "We wouldn't want Jay's breakfast to get cold, now would we?" Without a backward glance she turned and let herself out of the apartment.

As the door closed on her retreating back, Michael heard an ecstatic, "Yes! I knew it!"

This chapter is dedicated to nosy brothers and sisters everywhere. Many thanks to Nina, Meg, Lynda, Jared, and Tinnean, who managed to take the randoms thoughts in my head and help me create a story.