"Holy...fucking...shit." I gawked at the mind-wrenching scene that lay before me. "STAN?!? WHAT IN GODS NAME ARE YOU..." Casey was cut off by Stan who had thrown a pillow at his face to shut him up. "GET THE FUCK OUT, NOW!!!" Stan screeched at us, a pained almost tearful look in his eyes. But, Cas and I were physically incapable of moving, our brains had shut down that function altogether to help process what we were witnessing this very moment. "Sari... please..." came a soft voice from under the covers behind Stan. It was Marcae. It was a good five minutes of awkward silence before anyone spoke up. Cas and I instinctively turned to face away from our brothers; The two boys frantically rushed to put their clothes back on, picking up scattered pieces from the floor surrounding the mattress. Once I heard the sound of weight hitting the box-springs in the mattress, and a sigh of defeat, I turned back around. Cas had turned around seconds after me, and our eyes landed on Stan who was sitting cross-legged on the mattress with a crying Marc cradled against his chest. Despite his neutral tone, the look on Stannos' face suggested he was feeling ashamed and overwhelmed with what had just happened. He was struggling to hold eye contact, but since Marc was not having any part of the awkward encounter, it was up to Stan to defuse the situation. Marcae reminded me a lot of Cas, he was diagnosed with social anxiety when he was only 7 and has continued to struggle through his adolescence. Marc was typically a social and outgoing person, who was always watching out for others. It came as a surprise to most when they heard about his condition. Marc has been getting better at managing, but when he had bad moments, they were BAAAADDD. Stannos began to clear his throat while running his hands through Marc's Fluffy brown hair. "Listen..." he began, a pained look beginning to show through his crinkled nose and furrowed brows. "Listen..." he tried again, making sure to calm himself before he said anything he would regret. "Th...this isn't what it looks like." He sputtered, a tear rolled down his cheek. "We should talk," I stated, unsure of how to go about addressing the room. "Yeah..." Stan started before his voice trailed off into oblivion. "Meet us upstairs. You have some explaining to do." Cas grumbled as he turned to march back to the main floor. He seemed far more upset than I thought he would be when faced with, well, seeing gay-ness first hand. My shoulders started to relax, I didn't realize I was so tense until I felt the sweet release of tension. I gave Stan a knowing half-smile and nod, then went up to find Casey.