Torchlight

The problem with wearing sunglasses all the time was that everything looked darker than it actually was. The lights were pretty much always on in the Strider household - which was more than could be said for the water - and this racked up a heck of a bill. A heck of a bill that neither Strider was particularly fond of looking at. The last one was currently wedged up a red smuppet's ass, that was tucked away under the couch, nose protruding with intent.

Both Striders were sat on said couch, playing a video game that filled the entire of their widescreen TV. The frantic on screen battling was reflected in the lenses of their shades - never leaving the gameplay, never faultering. Aside from the occasional movement of their eyes to glance at each other and their thumbs furiously working their controllers, neither moved a muscle.

That is, until the lights went out.

The screen wiped itself out in a second, the glare of the strip lights above them flickered and were gone, the lamp by the window died. Suffice to say - with the damn blinds drawn - it was pitch black. The Striders sat, frozen in the position they had been prior to the black out. Dave pressed the X key and spoke first.

"Well, fuck."

That pretty much summed up both of them's feelings. And they had been just about to beat their high scores and all. He heard Bro move in the dark - the rustling of clothing, the shuffle of a trainer that had never seen a running track on the Strider's floor - and took this as a signal to move too. Setting the controller down on where he estimated, correctly, the table to be, Dave drew his legs up onto the couch and shuffled sideways a bit.

"'S torch somewhere," Bro's gruff voice informed him. "Check down the back of the cushions." Dave nodded, then remembered that in the dark Bro couldn't see him anyway, so just reached towards the back of the couch. Neither took their sunglasses off.

"What's it feel like?"

"Uh, shape wise? Decent sized torch, like-," Dave felt a hand on his lower leg, "-like that, actually. Found it." The hand slide up Dave's leg, and the teen twisted, but to no avail. "Long torch."

"'S not a torch, 's my leg."

"I bet you light up just fine."

Dave squirmed a little at the comment, and groped with his left hand, catching a wrist that had no doubt been on its way to his side. The hand on his leg moved up to his thigh and tightened slightly, reminding him that they were a little too far apart right now. The teen gave in, and shuffled in Bro's direction, still holding his wrist. "Where are you," he gritted his teeth as the hand on his thigh hooked onto his trousers and tugged gently.

"Right in front of you. Found the torch?"

"No."

"Keep looking."

Bro was playing him, he knew it. And, to be honest, he wasn't sure if he minded.  Shuffling more forward, his face found Bro's chest and Dave released the wrist, hands now bunching in the older's shirt. Something clinked, but he ignored it as the hand found its way under his t-shirt and up his side. Well, someone was forward in the dark. Dave was pretty definite he didn't mind now.

He could feel his Bro's hot breath on his cheek as he pressed up against him. Smirking in the darkness, Dave turned his nose to meet- cold metal. At that moment, Bro flicked the torch on, the light shining onto the ceiling up above them, and met Dave's eyes. "Found it."