Date: Sat, 8 Feb 2014 16:18:11 -0700 From: Durriken Homewood Subject: Beneath the Sycamore, Chapter 2 Beneath the Sycamore Chapter 2 (C) 2014 Durriken Homewood All Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in whole or in part without author's permission. The author grants the Nifty Archive a non-exclusive, worldwide, royalty-free, perpetual, and non-cancellable license to display this work. This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are a product of the author's imagination, or used fictitiously. Remember to show your love: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html -Chapter 2- In the twilight hours that presaged dawn, when the blanket of night still held the world in its somnolent grip, Jeremy lay awake in his bed, listening to the shifting melody between days with all of his naked body. The rain had gone with his parent's departure, off to fight a new battle with people that touched no place in his psyche. Their absence had changed the sound of the house, as though switching radio stations from their presence to Aaron's, magnifying his brother's personality to fill the whole place with him even as he slept a floor beneath, in the basement that had become his teen hide-out. At one time, he might have been jealous at Aaron's fortunes; at the extra privacy he gained by living downstairs while Jeremy kept his room on the main floor. It was sibling rivalry, ignorant of the extra burdens involved, the extra chores he did to keep the basement clean to their Mother�s exacting standards. Now, he wanted to be down there for another reason, and his body ached to close the distance; to be near his big brother. The internal image he held of Aaron had changed in the night, a process helped along by some of the most intense, erotic dreams he had ever known. With the memory of jerking Aaron off as fresh as his spunk on Jeremy's hand, his mind had conspired to twist lingering and hidden fantasies together into a vision of lust consuming desire; of hot fast fucking punctuated by moments of loving tenderness. The passion transformed him, and Jeremy woke with Aaron's name on his lips, reborn into new, sensitive flesh that burned to be touched. But even after stroking his hard, young cock to the spilling point over and over again, until his shoulder cried out in protest and his balls squeezed every last drop of juice up his shaft, he remained unsatisfied. He rose as the first pale blue glitters of sunlight touched his drawn curtains, a cloud of cum tainted air sticking to his skin. Aaron could be heard in the kitchen, struggling with the coffee pot, and though he needed to scrub the scent of self-sex off, he needed to be near his brother more. A pair of soft athletic pants manifested on the top of his dresser, and he slid them up his naked thighs and over his half-hard cock without further angering it, though the pants also did nothing to conceal it either. The full length mirror on the back of his bedroom door mocked him with its reflection, with the obvious bulge in his pants and the dry streaks up his stomach and chest. There was no way he was going to greet Aaron with dead jizz all over him! And, his hair was a disaster, sticking up at weird angles, flat where he had slept on it. The siren song of desire be damned! If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. Do what? An infinitesimal voice whispered, jumping off the merry-go-round to taunt him with doubt. What exactly was he planning to do? He had jerked off his big brother, but that didn't mean Aaron wanted more, or that he wanted it again. After all, if he had, why didn't he say anything last night? Jeremy, hand poised over the door knob, pulled his arm away, taking a step back. Aaron didn't want him. Why would he? He was tall, athletic, sexy, and very much in love with girls. There was nothing Jeremy could offer him that he couldn't get from someone else. Yeah, Aaron was hurting about his break-up with Heidi, but that hadn't stopped him from trying with other girls. What happened last night had been an accident. Suddenly, the door burst open, shaking him out of his maudlin thoughts. Aaron stood, framed like a vision of perfection, clothed in pajama bottoms with an open fly that folded over his dick but diminished its presence not at all. "Hey, do you know how to work the coffee pot? I can't get it to turn on." The banal, mundane nature of the question sat in such contrast to Jeremy's inner monologue that he had to laugh just to relieve the pressure. "Yeah. I'll show you," he answered, brushing past Aaron. The kitchen, a bright and open space, looked out onto the back yard through sliding glass doors and tall windows. It was separated into the work area and the dining area by an island counter. Traces of his parents could be seen in the empty coffee cups left in the sink, the note tacked to the refrigerator in his Father's scrawling hand, and the debit card resting atop an envelope of cash. Aaron parked himself on a barstool at the island, holding his head in his hands, glaring at the coffee pot for vexing him. It would have been funny if Jeremy did not know the caffeine fiend that his brother was. From the work area side, he turned the device, released its timer, and switched it on. "Fixed!" he declared, twisting it around to face Aaron once more. "The timer has to be turned off," he added, reaching into the cupboard for two mugs. Coffee wasn't his favorite drink in the morning, but instinct told him Aaron wanted company and, after letting Jeremy jerk him off, he felt like he owed his big brother that much. "You're a life-saver," Aaron sighed, accepting the cup Jeremy handed him. "My pot downstairs has been on the fritz for a while now. Maybe I'll go buy a new one today. You wanna come with?" Jeremy shook his head. "Laundry," he said flatly, "It'll take me all day." "Oh." He poured himself a cup before the cycle had finished. The disappointed sound twisted in Jeremy's ear, louder than the gurgling, spitting coffee running at a trickle into the carafe. He felt his brother's gaze upon him, an invisible caress that slipped down his chest and stomach, swept over his face, his belly button, stopping at the crest of his hips only because the counter stood between them. "We can hang out here then, I guess," Aaron added, the stool creaking beneath him as he leaned back, the mug tucked between his hands. In remembering that he had eyes, Jeremy lifted them, meeting Aaron's playful grin, wishing for the briefest moment that he was the coffee cup held in his big brother's grasp, tasting the lips kissing the rim as he sipped at the steaming brew. Then, he wished he were the coffee, teasing over Aaron's tongue, worked down his throat by a bobbing Adam's apple, becoming one with his body. Until he was expelled in a golden stream of piss, of course. He decided he would be one of the last drops, the kind that had to be massaged out and then held onto the crown to be jiggled off. "You okay there, bro?" Jeremy snapped to attention, blinking the image of coursing along his brother's dick out of his eyes. "Huh? Yeah. I was just thinking." Aaron seemed to still then, his form sharpening in a strange, reality based manner of high definition that made him different, but not; the blanket of his presence cocooning around him and leaving the rest of the house cold and lifeless. He looked outside, face lost to recollection. "Yeah," he said. "Me too." He looked at Jeremy then, face a placid mask that hid a deeper churning, the ghostly images of memory playing in the fathomless depths of his eyes. They were blue, so startling a color of sapphire, so clear and oceanic that Jeremy felt he could ride in them like a surfer, or swim in them for an eternity. He had never noticed them before--not really. He knew what color his brother's eyes were, of course. They were the same eyes as their father. But he had never really seen them, never considered the power they held. A tense silence fell down around them. It was heavy, but it didn't weigh him down, filled with potential, without the rush to fulfill it. He knew, in the most intuitive parts of his being, that this was a delicate thing. Breaking the silence too soon would ruin everything; speaking too late, and an opportunity would be missed. A minute passed. And then another. By the third, Jeremy's muscles started to ache from being held in rictus. By the fourth, he felt the first beads of sweat itching between his shoulder blades. He averted his eyes, lowering his chin, and the air rushed back into the room. The barstool complained beneath Aaron as he reclaimed his coffee, and slurped a long draw from the cup, swallowing it with a loud, cartoonish gulp. The sound restored order to the atmosphere, but the silence had left a niggling, itching sensation behind as well that draped a layer of emotional heaviness on Jeremy's skin. "I...I think I'm going to take a shower," he announced, rubbing at an arm. "Okay." Aaron's reply was cool, controlled. It drew Jeremy's attention away from the marble counter top and the natural, broken swirls he had been studying in its surface. His eyes managed to rise to the level of his brother's crotch and the soft mound hidden there, calling out to his too empty hand. "Okay. I'll just...just go take a shower then." Jeremy turned away from the counter. Deep inside him, in the place between lust and desire, something rattled the bars of its cage, howling with a fevered pitch. It threw up images of every romance movie he had ever watched, borrowing what was essentially the same dialogue and forcing it up his throat and out of his mouth. "Do you want to join me?" Stoked to new life, his inner heat spread out to dance along his skin, rising up his abdomen, his chest and his cheeks. The part of him that wanted to snatch the words out of the air and shove them back in his mouth fell into the shadow cast by his youthful libido. Aaron smirked, as though he had been expecting such an invitation. He drained the rest of the coffee from his cup and stood, stretching his arms high above his head with a restless groan, and then crinkling his nose as he took a whiff of his fuzzy pits. "You know, I think I do need a shower." He headed toward what looked like another pantry door but which was, in fact, the way to the basement, then turned upon opening it. "Come on, we'll use mine. It's got more room." A dream like quality settled over Jeremy's vision, blurring around the edges as he followed his brother down the stairs, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet beneath his feet. This was one of the few times he was actually taller than Aaron, and yet it gave him none of the usual pleasure, a disconnect that further demonstrated the marked difference in him. The bathroom was the first door to the right of the landing, between the laundry room on the left, and Aaron's sprawling room on the right. The door lay ajar, casting gray shadows into the deep, windowless space. A heavy perfume of Aaron's cologne, body-wash and shampoo acted as a wall of scent that had to be passed through to gain entry. It wrapped around Jeremy's head, a hood blinding him to doubt while highlighting the tension rolling over his bared nipples, his virgin lips, his charging groin. Aaron stopped at the threshold, inviting Jeremy in first and then closing and securing the door as he joined him. The place seemed to come to life at his command as he turned on the light, and there was no part of it that was not touched by his personality, from the deep crimson hue of the bath towels to the cinnamon flavored toothpaste on the counter. Jeremy felt himself submitting to it, being consumed by it; the trembling along his flesh mimicking the shudder of the sliding shower door opening, a warm mouth surrounding him that was the mist of the shower being turned on. His eyes were closed, and he hugged his arms to his chest, trying to will his fluttering heart to a slower beat, to ignore the burdensome ache flexing around his cock. He listened to the water hiss and crackle, heard the brush of fabric sliding down skin as Aaron stripped, and then stepped up to his back, the heat of his body tingling down Jeremy's spine, rooted to the hands he laid with tender care at Jeremy's hips. When he dared at last to look, the broad mirror reflected the scene with unerring sharpness. His big brother stood behind him smiling in sympathy, the shower was going, waiting for them. "You gonna take these off?" Aaron asked, snapping the waistband of Jeremy's athletic pants. The terror of shyness that twitched at the edges of his brain, an ever present companion since the first glimmers of puberty appeared in his body, receded into an echoing distance, and the caged beast hurled itself at its prison. He caught his brother's gaze in the mirror, fastening onto it while he shrugged the pants down, and then kicked them away. Aaron backed into the shower, and Jeremy turned. His brother stood, pressed against the wall, skin shimmering with beads of from where he had passed through the cascade. He had the body of an active athlete, an upside-down triangle that started at broad shoulders and narrowed at the waist, with the point ending at his long, thick tube of flesh. His pubic hair was dark, but sparing, extending only a little way above the base of his cock; his balls hung low and heavy, two eggs encased in a nest of skin. He was a living statue, a model of masculine beauty wrapped in an aura of wild virility. The beast broke free of its restraints at last in a shuddering, liberating breath. Jeremy tripped toward his brother, succumbing to the creature that lived inside him, its wants, its needs, its yearnings becoming his own. He gave the too hot water beating down on his skin no attention as he crushed himself against Aaron's chest, aware only his big brother's pubic hair rubbing against his torso; of strong arms circling around him to close the shower and then holding him in place against the inner vibrations threatening to throw him out of his skin. Between their pressed bodies, Aaron's cock grew, a beacon of flesh upon which Jeremy could fix his attention. He looked up to his brother, pleading with his eyes to touch it, to know it as he had known it the previous night; licking his lips as he had seen done in so many movies to show interest. A light behind Aaron's eyes flickered, and he moved to stand between Jeremy and the shower, shifting him to stand at arm's length near the back of the space. It was chilly there, away from his brother's body, outside of the water streaming down his smooth flesh. Aaron took his dick in an over-hand grip, giving himself a long, luxurious stroke to the tip, then reversing his grip to pull down. He did it again, torturing Jeremy with the sight, with the denial. His third pass brought forth a string of precum that grew with each of Jeremy's breaths. "Jerk off with me," Aaron huffed, switching to a more natural grip and speeding up his strokes. Jeremy grabbed himself, wrapping familiar fingers around familiar flesh, aware of how much smaller he was than his big brother. "You're really big," he remarked, using the observation as an excuse to get closer. Aaron laid his forearm on his shoulder, his strong hand massaging the back of his neck. "You'll catch up," his brother replied. "You're not too far behind me." He threw his head back, groaning aloud while his cock pulsed in his hand. "I never thought this would be so hot," he added, turning his face to Jeremy. "You're really sexy, little brother." In spite of the heated steam around him, Jeremy blushed. "Thanks," he mumbled then, in a stronger voice, added, "You too." Aaron's stomach muscles flexed, and his hand moved faster along his flesh, urging Jeremy to keep up with him. He let go a heavy breath, winced as a strong pulse rippled through his heavy cock. "You close?" Aaron bit his bottom lip, nodded. It was like a signal being thrown up, a switch flipping. Jeremy fell in slow motion to kneel before his brother, eyes locked on his bruised, leaking head. Aaron curled fingers into his hair, the threat of pain present in light tugging of Jeremy's scalp. The sensation undulated down his body, pushing him over the edge of pleasure. His cock exploded, shooting long ropes of white between Aaron's legs. He panted out whimpering moans, holding himself upright under Aaron's persistent grip. "Shit..." Aaron gasped, his weight shifting as he pivoted his hips forward, smashing the tip of his dick against Jeremy's mouth, his fist stopping suddenly as he coated Jeremy's lips, chin, neck and chest with high speed spunk jets. "Sorry," he said, shuddering through the last of his orgasm and releasing his hold on Jeremy's hair. "I didn't mean to..." Jeremy smiled up at him, tongue darting out to sample the brew smeared over his lips, a mixture of sweet and bitter, too liquid to be chewed but delightfully viscous that left a unique after taste and made him want for more. He had eaten his own jizz before, but Aaron's was better, the juice of a ripe and mature fruit instead of one waiting to be plucked. "Did you just...taste my cum?" He returned to his feet, his legs a little wobbly but with enough strength left to support him, and nodded. "What did it taste like?" Jeremy rolled his tongue around his mouth. "Like...like you, I guess. It was good," he added quickly. "I liked it." Aaron cracked his neck, and then fixed a long, piercing gaze upon him, the corners of his mouth lifted into a grin. "Let's finish up before the water gets cold," he said, handing Jeremy the body-wash and taking the shampoo for himself.