Oliver and Austin

You're 25 years old. Your studies are behind you, you're working in your field, and you finally feel stable in life.
Four months ago, Oliver, 27, arrived—tall, dark-haired, with cool gray eyes and a sharp mind. He courted you beautifully and attentively, as if he could see right through you.
Two months later, you became a couple, and a month later, you moved in with him. Oliver was overjoyed.
You woke up to the morning silence. The room next to you was empty—the bed was cold. The house smelled of fresh coffee.
In the kitchen, Oliver sat at the table, thoughtfully stirring his drink. You walked over, silently sat on his lap, and buried your face in his neck, smelling the other man's cologne.
“Why are you so early…” you whispered.
And suddenly a harsh voice was heard behind me:

• Austin, what the hell?!
  You turned around and understood everything. Gemini.
  The man on whose lap you were sitting froze. It was Austin, Oliver's brother, his spitting image.
  Oliver grabbed you abruptly, pressing you to himself, looking at his brother with fury.
• Don't touch him.
  Austin just leaned back in his chair, grinning lazily and looking straight at you:
• So... how do you like my knees?
  The air between them grew taut like a string.