The model home was still crowded that night. Lucille stayed in the master bedroom, Buster bunked with George Michael, and Maeby slept on the couch, so Michael went upstairs to sleep in the attic. As he undressed and lay down in the old sleeping bag, he again noticed that the attic seemed rather quiet and lonely, now that he wasn't sharing it with his son anymore. It must have been like this for George Sr., when he had hidden in the attic for months. No wonder he'd gone a bit stir-crazy here.

Michael sighed and looked forward to his mother going home soon, once she recovered from her face lift. He still shuddered at the memory of her bruised face scaring them when he talked to his brothers in the kitchen. To get the image out of his head, Michael remembered the lesson that he and GOB had taught their father today, and he smiled, pleased that it had all worked out perfectly, even though Buster was plotting another lesson at the same time.

Michael was just starting to doze off, when someone climbed into the attic, carrying an overnight bag.


"What?" He sat up and fumbled in the darkness to turn on a nearby lamp.

GOB plopped down next to him on the floor and said, "It's me."

"GOB, what are you doing here?"

"I came over to see you. You know, to keep you company." He took off his shoes and put them aside with his bag.

Michael shrugged. "Oh, all right. The other sleeping bag is over there."

But GOB only came closer and grabbed the zipper pull on Michael's bag. "I thought we could share."

"GOB!" he said warningly.

"Come on, Mikey," his brother insisted. "You never took me camping like you promised to. Let's camp here."

"Not in the same sleeping bag!"

GOB unzipped the bag anyway. "No, no, it'll be good! We can play pigs in a blanket." He crawled in with Michael and reached over him to turn off the lamp

"No, GOB!" Michael tried to push him out.

"But, Michael, you said that we shouldn't fight anymore. We should be closer."

"I didn't mean like--" But GOB cut him off with a kiss, soft and slow and warm. Michael melted and closed his eyes. He knew this was wrong, but it felt so right. All the years of rivalry and tension, turning into passion.

GOB embraced him, and soon they tangled their bodies within the sleeping bag. Michael could feel something stir within GOB's pants. "That's not the dove, is it?"

Laughing too, GOB smiled and shook his head. "Mikey..."

They kept kissing feverishly, and GOB asked, "So I did a good job today, huh, Michael? I really fooled Dad."

"Yeah." Michael nodded and met his eyes with pride. "Yeah, you did, GOB. We got him good!"

"Yeah. He--he can't keep turning us against each other anymore. We can work together… We can be together..."

Michael was touched; GOB's incestuous desire was tangled up in a strange kind of love and fidelity to him. "You really want to do this?"

GOB nodded and kissed him for emphasis. "Michael."

"Oh, GOB..."

His older brother rolled on top and started to undress him. Michael groaned, but then he remembered something. "Wait, GOB, don't you--don't you have a girlfriend?"

"Yeah, but she won't let me (bleep) her. Can I (bleep) you?"

Michael blinked and hesitated. "I-I don't know. I mean, you're not even broken up with her, and..."

"Come on..." GOB kissed him coaxingly, and showed him that he brought condoms and lube in his overnight bag. "I'll show you the reach-around and everything."

Michael raised an eyebrow, but shrugged and gave in. "Okay."

So with more kisses, they got naked and made love.