Disclaimer: I don't own Arya, Murtagh, or Eragon- Chris Paolini does. Please enjoy this little AU oneshot I came up with!

Warnings: SLASH and INCEST. Eragon and Murtagh are brothers, and they kiss. If boyxboy offends you, or brotherxbrother offends you, you have been warned.

Bowling

Eragon sighed, partly from boredom and partly from frustration.

'Why did I bother coming?' he asked himself, listening to the loud cracks of the pins as they met the polished wood floor. He fidgeted with the hem of his large blue T-shirt, watching as his brother picked up his bowling ball.

Yes. Bowling.

The sport was quickly becoming the bane of Eragon's existence.

While Murtagh had taken to it like a duck to water, Eragon had found that rolling the heavy plastic ball to knock down pins was much harder than he had originally thought.

Arya- a good friend of his, though he was now certain she had invited him just to laugh- bowled in a league every Saturday afternoon, and had invited Eragon and Murtagh along today. Murtagh had bowled before, but was out of practice. Eragon had never been inside a bowling alley in his life, and his inexperience showed.

While Murtagh- after a quick warm up- had been hitting eight pins or more per frame, the most Eragon had knocked down were seven pins. That had been sheer luck as well- Eragon hadn't even been watching where he was throwing, and probably would not have noticed if he had thrown the bright orange ball down the wrong lane.

He had been... distracted.

A slight cough brought him out of his thoughts.

He looked over at Arya, the dark haired girl's face betraying only a hint of amusement as she casually glanced towards the dark-clad teen currently standing on the slightly raised ground of the approach to the alley. Before he could stop himself, Eragon allowed his eyes to study the current bowler at their lane.

He knew it was not the other's intention, but the clothes Murtagh was wearing perfectly outlined his form. The faded black jeans he wore were low on his hips, clinging to his body in ways that Eragon wished he could ignore.

The T-shirt his brother wore was also black, but made out of some material Eragon could never remember the name of that clung just a bit to every inch of Murtagh's well-defined chest. His hair wasn't exactly messy- it had that whole 'just-rolled-out-of-bed' look, the bangs hanging dreamily over deep hazel eyes.

Currently, those hazel eyes were focused on the ten pins standing many feet in front of the dark-clad figure. The look of concentration was so intense Eragon shivered, even though the gaze was not directed at him.

He thought he heard Arya laugh quietly, but he couldn't look away as he watched Murtagh come to a decision. He brought the black ball up, feet stepping quickly as he drew his arm back and whipped it forward. The ball rolled smoothly from the pale fingers, hurtling down just left of the center of the lane to strike the side of the head pin.

With a loud crash, each of the white pins fell down.

Eragon's eyes moved back to his brother, who was smirking proudly and turning back to the small pit of chairs where Eragon and Arya sat.

"Good job, Murtagh. Pity none of your skill rubbed off on your brother..." Arya joked, half-serious. Eragon's annoyed 'Hey' was lost as Murtagh chuckled.

Eragon glanced at the small computer screen that showed them their score. Seeing his name highlighted, he groaned.

"It's my turn again?"

"I'm afraid so, brother." Murtagh replied, walking past Eragon and sitting down in one of the hard, scarcely padded chairs the bowling alley provided.

"I don't want to bowl. One of you can bowl for me." the brunette grumped, tempted to fold his arms petulantly. Murtagh shook his head at the same time Arya voiced her opinion on Eragon's offer.

"Absolutely not." A suddenly devious gleam entered Arya's eyes.

"I'm sure Murtagh could show you how to bowl properly. We've tried to correct you-" Eragon's frown deepened at the mentions of 'helpful' tips and tricks shouted at him while he was standing up on the raised platform, trying to figure out how to roll the damned ball so it would hit the pins. "- but maybe you need more hands-on teaching."

A sudden sinking feeling hit the pit of the brunette's stomach. The feeling only deepened when he saw Murtagh nodding in agreement.

'I never should have told her.' Eragon thought to himself, shoving himself out of his chair. He walked up to the ball return, grabbing his tacky orange ball as he heard his brother's footsteps come up behind him.

Arya had been a great friend of his- perhaps his best friend- since they were little. She had been his first crush, but both had known it would never amount to anything. While it had stung the first three times she had rejected him, Eragon had quickly gotten over it. They had remained close friends, even through the time Eragon had thought he loved her and she had rejected him.

Naturally, when he had developed feelings for his brother, she had been the first to know. Even before Eragon himself had figured it out, she had put the pieces together and had been quietly trying to play Cupid ever since. She was reserved by nature- that was the only reason she hadn't taken them both and locked them up in a closet somewhere.

His hand closed on the bowling ball- one hand with fingers in the small holes, the other supporting the heavy sphere- turning to face the lane as Murtagh came to a stop uncomfortably close behind him.

Eragon nearly jumped as an arm nearly wrapped around him, Murtagh's pale hand covering his own- the one holding the bowling ball. He felt heat flood his face as his brother moved even closer to him, the heat radiating from Murtagh's body entering his through the layers of clothes they wore.

The brunette did jump as Murtagh's other hand settled at his hip.

"Relax- you're just making it harder by tensing up. Your muscles have to be relaxed if you want to do this properly." Murtagh was speaking quietly and calmly, very matter-of-fact. Even so, Eragon's mouth went dry as the warm puffs of air caressed his ear, the words taking on an almost inappropriate tone as his imagination moved them from the noisy alley to a more... private setting.

It didn't help that- when taken out of context- his brother's words could sound very suggestive, especially when spoken so intimately into his ear...

Murtagh's hand was sliding over his own, fingers adjusting his awkward grip and showing him how to properly throw the ball down the lane. Eragon wasn't sure how much about bowling he actually learned in the few torturous minutes, but he would never forget to follow through- every time Murtagh demonstrated the 'follow-through' (which he emphasized a lot), he had to press quite close to Eragon's back in order to extend Eragon's arm all the way.

In each demonstration, they were pressed so close together you couldn't fit a hair in between their bodies. If Murtagh noticed Eragon's tensed form and shallow breaths, he didn't say anything.

Finally, the torture was over.

Murtagh stepped away from the brunette, placing a hand on the blue-clad shoulder to turn Eragon around and face him.

The brunette's eyes narrowed in a puzzled manner.

"Do you get it now?" Murtagh asked. Eragon nodded, and Murtagh removed his hand. The darker clad of the two walked back to the chairs and sat down, hazel eyes coming back up to watch Eragon.

The brunette turned back to the lane, hyper-aware of the eyes on his back and his shoulder where heat was only now dissipating from where Murtagh had touched him last.

His feet began moving quickly, brain scrambling to remember everything he had been taught as he drew his arm back low, then released it to fly down the lane.

His aim left a little to be desired, but his first ball struck down six pins- more than he had claimed with a single strike before. An elated smile made its way across his face as he turned back to the proud faces of his brother and friend.

'Maybe bowling isn't so bad.' he thought to himself, picking the orange ball back up as the pinsetter swept off the downed pins and the automatic return brought back his ball.

Insert Line

The next two hours were full of bowling fun- while Eragon never even neared the scores of Arya and Murtagh, he had improved quite a bit and had even broken 100 (barely, with a score of 101) his last game.

Of course, all good things must end, and eventually it was time to head home. The two brothers walked Arya to her car- it wasn't parked far from theirs, after all- and said their goodbyes. Night had fallen by this time, so with one last 'drive home safely', they turned to their own car.

They had both chipped in for the gleaming black Jetta, as their parents had insisted they pay for it themselves, but Murtagh usually drove. The pale teen unlocked the doors and slid into the driver's seat as Eragon slid in the passenger's side.

It was slightly chilly in the car, but that was quickly remedied as Murtagh started the engine and turned on the heat.

They pulled out of the parking space, headed for their home.

The drive back was quiet, except for the music playing quietly in the background.

Eragon frowned slightly as he studied his brother's profile, illuminated as it was by the streetlights and moonlight.

Murtagh's face was neutral, but looking at his eyes deep concentration and even deeper thoughts were present.

The brunette hoped it didn't have anything to do with something Murtagh may have overheard when Eragon and Arya had been talking during their second game.

All three of them had been hungry, so- digging through their pockets- they had come up with enough money to buy a large pizza and a pitcher of Coke. While Murtagh had left to order, Eragon and Arya had had a little... chat.

Flashback

"Why did you do that?" Eragon asked pointedly. Arya looked innocently back at him.

"Whatever do you mean, Eragon? I didn't do anything."

"Murtagh teaching me? You know what he does to me- what if he figures it out?" the brunette asked, tone heavy with worry. "I know that you want us to get together, but this could backfire."

"Any chance one has for happiness will be risky. You should at least try, even if you fail in the attempt." Arya replied seriously. "What if he feels the same?"

The brunette could swear he heard a slight 'I know something you don't know!' tint to her words, but he pushed it aside.

There was only silence between the two of them for several moments before Eragon broke it.

"What if he hates me?" he returned finally, just as seriously. "That's too much of a risk- if I knew that he wanted me too, maybe-"

He cut himself off as he saw Arya glance at someone just over his shoulder. He turned in his chair, seeing Murtagh standing just feet away, a pizza and pitcher in his hands.

"Let me help you with that." Arya offered instantly, standing and walking over to Murtagh.

His brother gazed at him with an unreadable expression for a moment, but no more mention was made of the incident.

End Flashback

Eragon swallowed.

He had hoped that Murtagh hadn't overheard anything, but all clues indicated that he had.

'I won't say anything unless he does.' he promised himself.

It was silent in the car as they pulled into the driveway of their house, not a word exchanged as both were deep in their own thoughts.

Insert Line

Eragon dropped the towel he wore and grabbed a pair of shorts and red drawstring pants to change into as he dressed for bed.

He hadn't spoken with Murtagh since they had arrived home- he hadn't been very hungry, so he'd skipped dinner and headed straight for the shower to begin his nightly ritual of a long, hot shower before brushing his teeth and changing into pajamas. For him and his brother, pajamas were usually just a pair of loose pajama pants- neither was very fond of wearing a shirt to sleep.

He had just pulled on his pants when someone entered his room without knocking. As his back was to the door, the brunette had to turn to see who the intruder was.

Murtagh.

The door clicked shut.

Eragon swallowed. His brother had changed for bed as well, so a lot of pale chest was exposed to his gaze- especially since the black cotton pants were slung even lower on Murtagh's pale hips than his jeans had been. They seemed almost ready to fall off given the slightest chance...

Brown eyes jerked up to meet hazel.

"Hey." the brunette greeted hesitantly. When Murtagh didn't respond, he continued. "Was there something you needed?"

It was several moments before Murtagh responded.

"No. Not really." Slowly, the pale teen walked towards Eragon, reminding the latter of a panther stalking its prey. "I just remembered Arya mentioning something about bowling with us next Saturday as well- I wanted to make sure you didn't forget your lesson."

The way Murtagh said it- and from the slight smirk gracing those pale lips- made Eragon shiver.

"I remember." he replied, turning away from his brother as the other drew closer. "I didn't forget- I won't forget by next Saturday. Anything else?" he asked, voice almost breathy by the time the last word left his mouth.

That may have had something to do with the close proximity of the pale teen- he was now as close as he had been when teaching Eragon about bowling.

Closer.

Eragon swallowed thickly, Murtagh's body nearly flush with his back.

"Maybe one more thing." His brother said, voice a near-whisper next to his ear.

"What's that?" Eragon asked, concentrating on keeping his breath from hitching and his knees locked- they seemed strangely weak...

"I wanted to ask you something about a conversation I overheard earlier." Murtagh was being vague, but the brunette knew to which conversation his brother was referring.

"What conversation would that be?" he asked anyway, playing dumb. Murtagh chuckled slightly, close enough now so that the sound wasn't so much heard as felt.

"I believe you know what I'm talking about." Murtagh was speaking huskily into his ear, and it was all Eragon could do to hold himself in place and not lean backwards for skin-on-skin contact. "Want to tell me what you and Arya were talking about?"

"Nothing." Eragon muttered, stuttering slightly. Murtagh had never been quite this close to him while they were both half-dressed. It was making it a lot harder to control himself.

"Nothing? Somehow, I doubt that..." Murtagh replied. The brunette could have imagined it, but for a moment he could have sworn that soft lips brushed against his ear.

Even if it was just his imagination, the sensation made him gasp quietly. Murtagh must have heard, but instead of pulling away he moved even closer so they were skin-to-skin.

The brunette's mouth suddenly went very dry.

He could feel Murtagh's heart as it beat and every movement of his brother's chest as he breathed in and out...

The movements reminded him that he, too, had to breathe. He wasn't entirely sure when he had stopped, but that first new breath burned all the way to his lungs.

The temperature in his room was rising to an almost dangerous level, but it may have just been his body temperature. Most of the heat seemed to be concentrated in his face and where his body was touching Murtagh's.

"Are you going to tell me the truth, brother?" he asked. This time the sensation was definitely not imagined- Eragon could feel lips on his ear as Murtagh spoke.

The brunette nearly jumped as two warm arms wrapped around his body, pulling him even closer to the defined body behind him.

"'If I knew that he wanted me too, maybe'." Murtagh quoted, amusement evident in his voice.

"How much did you hear?" Eragon asked instantly, but regretted the thoughtless words the second they left his mouth.

"Enough, apparently." the pale teen replied. "Want to tell me who you were talking about?"

Eragon was almost certain Murtagh knew whom he and Arya had been discussing, but he wasn't about to say it if his brother hadn't already figured it out.

"No." Eragon replied, voice shaky. "As if you don't know-"

"I want to hear you say it." Murtagh interrupted. When Eragon didn't speak again, he continued. "How about if I guess?"

The brunette remained silent, unable to think of anything to say. Taking this as permission, Murtagh spoke again.

"Me."

Even though Eragon had been expecting that, he stiffened.

"So you admit I'm right?"

"I never said that." Eragon protested, then clamped his mouth shut. His brother had obviously figured it out. "What do you want?"

"Eragon." Murtagh slowly let him go, and the brunette felt his heart sink. What if Murtagh had only been leading him on...?

He turned, facing his brother while carefully schooling his features to a neutral expression.

The mask splintered and broke as warm lips covered his own.

His eyes widened, mouth opening partly in shock. Pale fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, forcefully but not painfully tilting his head to allow for better access. A warm tongue pressed in between his parted lips, gently teasing his own.

The stunned brunette didn't react- didn't even move- as Murtagh pressed closer to him, one hand running up and down his side and back in a gentle, soothing gesture. By the time his brother broke the heated kiss, Eragon was still too shocked to do more than blink as hazel eyes stared into his own.

"That'll do for now." Murtagh smirked and let Eragon go. The brunette nearly collapsed, not having realized how much Murtagh had been supporting his weight or how weak his knees had become.

The pale teen turned to the door, making as if to leave.

"Wait!" Eragon grabbed Murtagh's arm, making the other stop in his tracks. The pale teen turned his head, a slightly puzzled look on his face.

"What did you mean?" the brunette asked, touching his free hand lightly to his still-tingling lips. Murtagh turned fully, moving closer to Eragon so their noses nearly touched.

"Maybe he wants you too." he replied, warm puffs of spearmint scented air brushing his face.

The brunette wasn't sure who moved, but their lips were suddenly touching again.

Wanting just to feel everything as they kissed, Eragon's eyes fluttered closed. He could feel each plane of Murtagh's chest as they pressed closer, the silky feel of his brother's hair in between his fingers as he desperately pulled the pale teen closer.

A gentle tongue brushed his lips, asking for access which was instantly granted. Murtagh's tongue entered his mouth again, but this time Eragon had enough presence of mind to kiss back.

Their tongues warred for dominance, neither wanting to break the kiss. Even when their lips parted for air, they were never more than a few millimeters apart.

Their hands weren't idle either- even though they had grown up with each other, they had never been free to touch and memorize each other like this.

Finally, they had to break apart as their lungs burned for air, short pauses no longer enough to satisfy their bodies need for oxygen.

For several minutes, they just held each other as they caught their breath, both thinking about what would happen next.

"Love you." Murtagh said quietly, the words taking on a deeper meaning as they were no longer meant platonically.

"Love you too." Eragon replied. He yawned, sleepy, but not willing to let his brother go.

Murtagh laughed again, steering the brunette over to Eragon's bed and laying him down. When Murtagh tried to straighten and leave, Eragon held on.

"Stay?" he asked.

Murtagh nodded, a smile spreading over his face.

That night, the two of them fell asleep holding onto each other, cuddled close together.

The End

A/N: Hopefully it wasn't awful! If you liked it, please review!