Date: Wed, 26 Jun 2019 22:19:48 -0400 From: RJ Subject: Brothers at Arms - Ch. 9 Brothers at Arms by RJ This story involves the relationship between two brothers. If you do not like themes of incest or adult/youth, do not read this story. If you have any questions or comments about this piece, want to know about any of my other works, or just want to reach out, please don't hesitate to email me. A list of my works, including links and descriptions, can be found here: https://bit.ly/2S5IYDI. If you would like to be added to a mailing list for this story (or all stories) and receive emails about any updates, let me know. Please also consider donating to Nifty if you can: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ~ CHAPTER 9 ~ (Dean's POV) A little over a month into our summer and I'm already dreading the end of it. All we have left is August. At the end, Stevie will go back home and finish up his senior year, and I'll start up classes part-time again, and our struggle to find time to see each other will flare up all over again. What stresses me out even more is the fact that, a year from now, I don't know what to expect. I don't know if Stevie wants to take his big ass brain across the country to some prestigious Ivy League or something, or if he wants to hang back with me. It's kind of a terrifying thought, if I'm being honest. The main reason I never went to Hocksmith was so that we wouldn't be separated so severely, but I can't exactly ask him to do the same for me. That would make me a huge fucking dick. I just want to know where his head's at, so I decide to ask him. We're in the middle of playing Mario Kart, stretched out on the floor. He's sitting up against the couch and I'm lying down between his legs, the back of my head nestled right into his lap. After finishing a race at Bowser's Castle (which I won by a hair), he laughs and kicks my hip lightly. "Fucker," he mutters. "I had that!" "Obviously you didn't," I say with a smirk, and he puts his hand on my head a little roughly. I think he wanted to hit me, but he thought twice about it and settled for resting a palm in my hair. "Whatever, Dean," he says. "I'll get you on the next one. Do Mushroom City. You always lose that one." He says this while curling a lock of my hair with his finger. I glance up at him a little, not making any moves to switch to the next course just yet. This question has been on my brain for a while now, and for whatever reason, now feels like a fine enough time to bring it up. "What are you doing after graduation?" He looks down at me. "Graduation?" He laughs. "I mean, I don't know. College and stuff." "Yeah, but where?" I don't even know what he wants to study. Is that bad of me? "I don't know yet," he says. "Should probably start thinking about it, huh?" "I guess," I say slowly, glancing at the TV screen. But my eyes close as soon as I feel his fingers stroking my hair, and my body relaxes almost instantaneously. "Why?" "Just thinking about the future," I say softly. "My future?" "*Our* future," I clarify. He digs his fingers into my scalp soothingly. "Any ideas about *our* future?" "Too many," I say with a slight laugh. Stevie chuckles a little before setting his controller down and putting both hands on my chest, rubbing it gently. "Alright. Best-case scenario. What is it?" I bite my lip as I think about it. "Best-case scenario? I don't know. I get my degree. I stop working at fucking Target. You graduate. Become this amazing writer that I know you're bound to become. That way you can live with me wherever I end up." He smiles. "So in this scenario, I'm stuck with you?" he teases. "I hope so." I grin. "You'll have to change your identity and everything so I can kiss you in public, though," I say, and he gets a kick out of that. "Maybe grow a pussy while you're at it." "You like my dick too much," he says, smirking. "Shut up," I mutter, reaching up to smack the side of his face lightly. He smiles, peering at me for a moment. "And worst-case scenario?" "Worst-case? I fuck up and never get my degree and am stuck at Target forever," I say. "And you do bigger and better things with that big ass brain of yours and leave me in the fuckin' dust." He laughs. "Why would I leave you?" I shrug. "I don't know. You could do so much, Stevie." "Don't hit me with the 'You have so much potential!' speech," he murmurs. "You *do* though," I insist, and he blushes a little. "You could tackle the fuckin' world. And without me." He smiles at me before leaning over as he cups my face with his palms. "Would you miss me?" "Like fucking crazy," I admit with a soft breath. I still catch myself off-guard when I admit shit like this. A couple years ago, I wouldn't have been caught dead saying anything nice to this kid. Now, it seems like every other day I'm gushing over him at least once. In response, Stevie leans over more and kisses me upside down, pressing his lips firmly against mine. When he pulls back, he keeps a hold on my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere without you," he says, searching my eyes. I smile up at him, feeling so relieved that I almost get dizzy. "And you're not going anywhere without me." I lick my lips a bit, letting out a happy sigh through my nose. "Kiss me again," I say softly. He chuckles a little before leaning down and kissing me slowly. His lips smack lightly against mine, and when I reach up to hold the back of his head, he lets out a little hum against my lips. I kiss him deeper, tugging him closer just as our tongues slide so effortlessly against each other. But he pulls back. "Mmf-- No," he says, laughing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I grin. "What?" "You're not gonna win." "I might. You're hard," I tease. I can feel it poking the back of my skull. "And I'm gonna ignore it." I chuckle slightly. We have a running bet going: if Stevie can resist sex and masturbation for four days, I'll let him fuck me again. I managed to snag four consecutive days off, so I knew I'd be able to keep an eye on him. It's been interesting for our relationship, to be together for all these hours and not have sex. It's the third day, and so far, I feel like we've been able to get in even deeper with each other without any physical distractions. Sex with Stevie damn near one of my favorite things on this good earth, but our relationship is more than just sexual. It's intimate, on all levels. "Besides, we have to go out soon." I groan a bit. "Do we have to?" I whine. "You promised!" It wasn't my idea, but Stevie "really, really, really, really" wanted to go, so I gave in to his request to go to an open mic night. "I know," I mumble, looking back at the TV and selecting Mushroom City as the next course. "We're going right?" "Yes. Now shut up. I'm trying to kick your ass." Before the race starts, he leans over and gives me a peck on the lips, leaving me smiling as the countdown starts. Despite my clear lack of desire to go, Stevie seems particularly excited as we get dressed, hop into my car, and head over to a coffee shop. "What's this place called again?" I ask as I drive. It's just off the main road, apparently, and I scope out a few businesses as we pass them, looking for something small and hipster -- somewhere I wouldn't normally hang out. "Coffee shop," Stevie says. "Yeah, what's the name?" "It's just 'Coffee Shop'." I glance at him. "Seriously?" How inventive. "Yeah. It's a cute place," he says before gesturing on the right. "It should be coming up soon, I think. Oh!" Then he points. "There!" I would have missed it had he not pointed it out. It's so unremarkable that I wouldn't have even guessed it's a coffee shop, let alone a place where open mic nights are held. But whatever. I veer into the parking lot, find the nearest spot, and cut the engine. "I know this isn't your scene, but it'll be a good time," Stevie says. "Yeah yeah," I drawl, unbuckling my seatbelt. "But no making fun of people who go up," he warns me. "That's the only reason I agreed to come," I tell him, and then he hits me across the chest. I laugh. "What?" "Don't be a dick," he says before leaning over to peck my lips quickly. "C'mon." It's just how I expected it to look -- lots of awkward, twerpy-looking kids sitting around small, beat-up round tables. These are the types of kids I used to rag on when I was in high school. It's weird how my instinct is to make fun of them right off the bat, but I hold it back. I have to be on my best behavior for Stevie. We take a seat towards the middle because it's one of the few open tables left. Stevie sets his phone down before looking around. "I'll be right back." "Gonna sign up?" "Yeah," he says, biting his lip, probably looking for the sign-up sheet. He seems to catch where it is and then hurries towards the stage, weaving between tables. I sit down with a little smile. This is the REAL reason I agreed to come -- to watch Stevie perform at this open mic. Just a little poetry, but I still want to support him. When he comes back, he sits down at the table with a satisfied smirk on his face. I can't help but laugh. "You look excited." "Huh?" he says, looking up at me. "Oh yeah. I am." Then he takes his chair and slides it beside me, quick to lock his fingers with mine. I hesitate at first, looking around the room a bit, but I don't recognize anybody. We're far away from home anyway. Who's going to know? Or care? Soon, the open mic night starts. The goofy-looking host waltzes up to the stage, fighting with the microphone for a second before he says some opening remarks, thanking us all for coming, welcoming us to the Coffee Shop, blah blah fucking blah. I want to scream "Just get to it!" but I resist, even though I have a feeling this whole thing is going to drag on. Hopefully Stevie's name is high up on the list so we can leave right after. It's hard not to poke fun at some of these kids. Some of them actually have talent, for sure. One girl has a killer voice, and one shrimpy dude absolutely shreds on guitar. But most of these kids are less than great. They just make me think of all those terrible American Idol auditions again, and seeing them reminds me that this is the exact reason I avoid playing in public: what if I actually suck? Turns out I'll get that question answered, because after nearly a dozen acts, the host says a name. My name. Dean McAllister. At first, it doesn't register to me. Stevie gives me a little nudge and I look at him with a confused expression. "Dean McAllister?" the host questions, audience members looking around. Then I laugh, but I'm still confused. Why is he saying my name? Then Stevie pushes me. "Go!" he mutters. Holy shit. The little fucker signed MY name up. "What?!" "Go up!" He looks so excited that I want to fucking pummel him. "You fucking put my name up there?" "Is a Dean McAllister here?" the host asks. Before I can stop him, Stevie raises his voice. "He's right here!" he says, pointing directly at me. All heads whip to my direction, and I feel more exposed than I ever have in my entire life. I'm gonna fucking kill him. "Go!" Stevie repeats, trying to push me out of my chair. "And do WHAT?!" I ask, bewildered. "I can't believe you fucking did this." "They have a guitar up there," he says. "Just play one of your songs. You'll be great." "I'm not--" Then Stevie starts chanting my name along with some claps. "I'm not going up there," I tell him, but the clapping caught on quick. Soon, the whole room is chanting my name, begging me to go up. Are they insane? They don't know me. This is fucking stupid. I'm so pissed, and embarrassed, and I want to leave. But when I look at the acoustic guitar lying against the wall on stage, I sigh. There's no getting out of this, is there? "I'm gonna fucking kill you later," I mumble to Stevie before standing up. He just grins, cheering along with everyone else who goaded me on stage. I find it hard to swallow my spit as I walk up to the front of the room. The fuck am I doing? What am I even gonna play? And as I walk up the stairs and head straight for the guitar, I pray that this fucker is tuned. I give it a light strum and find that only the D-string is slightly off, and with a minor adjustment, everything sounds good. Now I have to play. I look out into the crowd and gulp before taking a seat on the stool in front of the microphone. "Uhh... Hi," I say. I hear a slight giggle coming from the front row, but everyone else is pretty quiet. "In case you didn't hear, my name's Dean." Immediately, the crowd starts laughing, and I smile a little, feeling a little relieved. I point directly at Stevie. "That sneaky little bastard right there signed me up without me knowing," I say, totally calling him out, "so say your goodbyes because he won't live to see morning." Everyone gets a good laugh out of it, but I'm more focused on the smile that Stevie's giving me. It's calming me down a bit. Maybe I can do this. Just one little song. I clear my throat. "So, uh..." Think, Dean, think. What to play? Somehow the only song I can think of right now is the one I secretly wrote for Stevie. The one I always deny is for him, even when he likes to playfully pretend it is. "This one's for you, Stevie," I say into the mic, and then, I shut everyone out as I start playing. When I finish the song, I barely have a second to process what just happened. I don't know if I fucked up, or if my voice was okay, or if I was consistent. All I know is that everyone's clapping. For me. Fucking me. And maybe it's cocky of me to say, or maybe it's just because I'm up on stage, but I'm pretty sure I got the loudest applause so far. I can't help but smile like an idiot, saying "Thanks" into the mic before setting the guitar down and hopping off the front of the stage. I head back to our table, my eyes on Stevie the whole time, who's clapping animatedly and cheering for me. I lick my lips. I don't know if he expects me to punch him or something, because for a second, he falters. But I manage to grab the back of his head, hold onto his hair, and kiss him deeply on the mouth with everyone watching. When I pull back, he stares up at me with wide eyes and a flushed face, but his lips slowly curl into a wide smile. He turns away shyly, giggling to himself and hiding his face. I bite my lip, half-looking around. Did I really just kiss my little brother in front of everyone? A couple girls nearby definitely cheered us on, but they don't know us. They don't know we're related. Still, that was a risky, impulsive move. Settle down, Dean. I just sit back in my seat, clearing my throat a bit but still smiling to myself as I take his hand back in mine. We end up staying the last half an hour, respectfully watching the rest of the acts. In between each act, people quickly toss compliments at me, and I thank them all. I hear one girl that's sitting closer to Stevie say to him "Your boyfriend's amazing!" I just grin to myself a bit, holding onto Stevie's hand more tightly, feeling high from the rush of the performance. That high doesn't leave me for the rest of the night. Even after the host thanks us all for coming, I still feel that tingly rush throughout my body. It's like my goosebumps are constantly popping on my skin and I'm breathing something lighter than air. It feels good. Stevie turns to me, smiling. "Hey." I smile back. "Hey." Our hands are still locked together. "Are you mad at me?" "Yes," I say, but there's still a grin on my lips that says otherwise. "I'll make it up to you," he says, lightly stroking my thigh before laughing. "I just wanted to push you," he says. "And I'm glad I did." I swear, I'm probably blushing. "I'm glad too." "Everyone needed to hear you." I laugh. "I don't know about all that, but--" "I'm serious," he says, clutching onto me. "You're so fucking incredible." I smile. Incredible, huh? Lay it on me, why don'tcha? Stevie just smiles at me before standing up and taking my hand. "C'mon. Let's grab some food before we go. I'm starving." We head over to the counter just around the corner where they mostly make coffees and teas and smoothies, but it seems like they make a lot of fancy-sounding sandwiches. After we place our order and I pay, we take a seat at one of the tables nearby. I feel light, in a weird way. Maybe "giddy" is the right word. I never thought performing and being so well-received would be that much of a rush. "You were so hot on stage," Stevie says dreamily. "I swear I'm like, wet." "Shut up," I say with a laugh. "No." Then he smiles, leaning across the table a bit. "You were so fucking hot. Sexy fucking stud with a guitar--" "Stevie, Jesus--" "And I love that you kissed me in front of everyone." I lick my lips, feeling my face get hot. "You done?" "I'm just surprised. That's all." I bite my lip a bit. "It was a spur of the moment thing. Don't get used to it." But he just grins a little. "Mhm," he says before he slides his hand across the table to grab mine. I try pulling it away, but he snags it and I give in to the hand-holding. "I love you," he says softly. I try my damn best not to smile, but I can't resist. I laugh a little, those fluttery feelings only intensifying because of my little brother, my boy, my everything. "I love you, too. Sneaky fucker." "Don't do that," he says, laughing. "What?" "Ruin nice words with something mean." I roll my eyes. "Fine," I say, facing him. "I love you. Happy?" "Say it more tenderly, like before," he says, smiling. I grin a little bit, taking a breath. "I love you, Stevie," I say slowly, resisting every urge to follow-up with playful banter. He smiles appreciatively. "God, you're so hot," he mutters again, and I burst out laughing. We don't have to wait for our food for too long. Soon, our order gets called: "Number ninety-one!" We both stand up and head over to pick up our sandwiches, but before we leave, the worker who called our number stops us. Specifically, Stevie. "Hey!" he says, clearly recognizing my brother. Stevie looks up and then smiles. "Oh my God! Hey, Brady!" "Long time no see," Brady says back, giving Stevie a winning smile. I squint a bit, sizing him up. He's clearly a jock -- probably baseball. He's got that easy, swept-back hair and an admittedly charming face. Bet he has no problem landing girls. Or boys. "Yeah! I missed seeing you in class last year," Stevie says. Brady finds that funny. "You're too smart for me, man," he says. I roll my eyes. "You keep skipping all the basic classes!" "It was just one year," Stevie says, though he's definitely blushing appreciatively. "Yeah yeah." Brady smiles. "How's your summer going?" "Pretty awesome so far," he says. "How about yours?" "Well, I'm here," he says blandly, and Stevie giggles. I wince a bit. I know that sound well. That's that flirtatious, playful giggle of his. "Living the dream." "Bit far away from home, isn't it?" "My dad lives here and I stay with him over the summer," he says, and Stevie nods. "That makes sense. Well, I'm glad we ran into each other." "Yeah!" Brady adds, smiling again. "We should have hung out more during the year." "There's still time for that," Stevie says in a low voice, and that's when I put my foot down. I clear my throat. Suddenly, Stevie seems to remember that I'm right here, and he says "Oh! Brady, this is my brother, Dean." When Stevie points to me, Brady acknowledges my presence, looking at me briefly and smiling. If he's intimidated by my stare, he doesn't show it. All he says is "Nice to meet you, bro." I almost want to say "Don't 'bro' me," but I hold my tongue. "Same." Then Brady looks at me curiously. "Wait, Dean?" "Yeah?" "Were you one of the acts earlier?" "Yes, he was," Stevie says quickly. "Did you see him?" "Can't see anything from here," Brady says, and I sigh in relief. That means he didn't see me fucking kiss my little brother full on the mouth. "But I did hear you. Well, I heard everyone chanting your name, and then I heard you. Anyway, you sounded great, man." "Thanks," I say. Somehow, I don't care for his compliment. I just turn to Stevie. "C'mon, we gotta go." "Right now?" "Yes," I mutter. "Okay." "I'll see you around then?" Brady asks. "If you make time to see me." Brady lets out a strong laugh. "Expect a message from me then." "Looking forward to it," Stevie says with a smile. I start tugging Stevie away from the counter. Brady just smiles and waves as we walk out. "Have a good night!" Stevie's probably surprised by the way I grab his arm and usher him out of the building, but it doesn't stop him from giving Brady an animated farewell. I grumble a bit, staring straight ahead as I pull Stevie out of the building. I let go of his arm once we're finally outside, and by then, he's about to ask why the hell I'm forcibly removing him from this establishment. But I practically pin him against the wall. "What the--?" "Were you flirting with him?" I demand. He looks at me confused, clutching onto our sandwiches. "Who?" "That fucking kid in there!" "Brady?" he asks before laughing. "No." "I literally saw you," I say. "I was right there." "I wasn't flirting with him, Dean," Stevie says, getting mad now. "He's my friend." "I know how you act when you flirt. You were flirting with him." He rolls his eyes. "He's straight, Dean." "That's never stopped you before, you little whore." He squints up at me in an incredibly disapproving way. I hate the way I'm acting right now, and I hate even more how I'm feeling, but I can't help it. "You're such an asshole," he says, pushing past me with surprising force. He stomps down the steps towards the parking lot and I sigh to myself, leaning my head back. I want to punch something -- half because I'm still mad, and half because I'm being such a dick for no reason. I usually trust Stevie. I don't know why this is making me so nervous and hostile all of a sudden. I follow Stevie to the car, and when I unlock the door, he gets in without looking at me. It's a tense situation, both of us being cooped up in my car and not saying anything to each other. We don't even make any noise aside from buckling our seatbelts. I just focus on the task at hand: getting home. Stevie does eventually break the silence, maybe close to ten minutes after we start driving. "Why don't you trust me?" He says it super softly, but it was so quiet in the car that I probably would have understood him even if he had mumbled. "I do trust you," I say, both hands on the wheel. "So why'd you get so mad?" he asks. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don't look at him. I keep facing forward, focusing on the road. "I don't know what to tell you, Stevie." Jesus, why is it so hard to just spit it out? Say how I feel, without having my anger to fall back on? Why is being vulnerable so damn fucking difficult? "I *was* flirting a little," Stevie says. It takes me a moment for that to register in my head, and then my head snaps towards him. He doesn't look at me though, just at his hands in his lap. I scoff. "I fucking knew it!" "I'm sorry!" he says, finally looking at me. "I'm a flirtatious person, what do you want--?" "And a fucking liar," I spit out, forcing myself to look back at the road. I have to focus on driving, but holy shit, I'm angry all over again. I was right. And he tried to make me seem like I was the irrational one. Fucking bitch. "I was never going to fuck him," Stevie says. "Just suck his dick?" I bitterly suggest. "Stop," he says in a low voice, but all I want to do is keep going. I want to call him a little slut, and I want to berate him for flirting with someone right in front of me, for making me feel like an idiot for getting mad about it. "I don't want to fight about this," he adds after I don't respond. "Why, because you're in the wrong?" "Flirting isn't a crime, Dean--" "Shut the fuck up, Stevie," I say, suddenly irritated by his excuses. "Just shut the fuck up." And he does so. The silence is even more tense the rest of the ride home. At first, I'm furious with him for lying to me and irritated by his antics. But then, I hear a sniffle. I glance over and see him staring at his lap with tears streaming down his face. Fuck. Fucking shit. I sigh heavily, feeling the anger leave my body little by little. I can't exactly tell what it's replaced with. Shame? Pity? Regret? All I know is that I feel a little softer, even if I'm unsure how to approach this now. When we get back to my apartment, Stevie follows me up the stairs. I unlock my door and let him in first before shutting it and then leaning against it with my forehead pressed into the wood. What should I say to him? How can I keep myself under control? Maybe I should do some quick yoga or some shit. I hear Stevie chirp up near me. "Please don't be mad at me." I turn around, seeing how watery his eyes look. He's upset. I'm not entirely sure what he's feeling, but he's upset, and that's what's important. "I'm not mad at you," I finally say, leaning my back against the door. "I swear I wasn't going to do anything," Stevie says. "I promise." I nod. "Okay." He stares at me, clearly waiting for me to say more. "That's all you have to say?" "I said 'okay'! What more do you--?" But I stop myself before I get heated again. Deep breaths, Dean. Nice 'n easy. I close my eyes as I exhale before looking down at my little brother. "I'm sorry too," I tell him, rubbing my face with my palm. "I'm just... I'm terrified of losing you, alright?" There. It's out. It *must* be the reason I was so quick to get mad at him. I've been thinking so much about the future lately, about the possibility of us being separated, that some random dude making eyes at my boy drove me over the edge. I've felt that jealousy plenty of times before, but these circumstances are more dire. I'm in love with Stevie now. I can't lose him to some dumbass baseball jockey. I won't. Stevie sighs a little. "Then don't push me away," he says. He steps forward a little, right up to me, and I stay still as he wraps his arms around my midsection and rests his head against my chest. "I don't want anyone else besides you, Dean," Stevie says softly. That's all I needed to hear. That's all the validation I need. I wrap my arms around Stevie tightly, hugging him close to my body and shutting my eyes. Stop pushing him away, Dean. He wants you, and you want him. No need to make shit difficult. I put my face in his hair and breathe him in, instantly calming down. What is it about his scent that makes me so high, so at peace? I could smell nothing but him for the rest of my life and be completely content. Hell, I could taste, and feel, and see, and hear nothing and no one else and still be happy. He's everything to me. Everything. Stevie tilts his head up after a while, looking up at me, our faces close. We lock eyes for a moment before his sights hone in on my lips. Then, he stands up on his toes to kiss me. One gentle kiss followed by another. And another. I kiss him a little deeper the next time, and he responds by holding onto me even more tightly. I snake my arms further around him and then lift him up, and he automatically wraps his legs around my hips, clutching onto me tightly as I press him against the opposite wall and kiss him hard. Stevie lets out a little whimper, grabbing my shirt with his fists as I hold him up against the wall. Things are heating up now. Our lips mash against each other in an eager, passionate way until he manages to snag my bottom lip between his teeth and tug on it. I let out a little growl, clutching onto him more tightly. I know where this is going. "What about your bet?" I ask. He lets go of my lip and says "Fuck the bet" before kissing me again. I feel him rut against me once, giving me just one thrust of his hips so that I can sense how antsy he's feeling. Our kissing becomes sloppy, messy, hungry, totally fucking sexy. At one point, I tug on Stevie's hair to keep him back while I spit in his mouth. He lets out a little moan, his cheeks flushed before he says "Again," opens his mouth, and sticks his tongue out. I grin a bit, my cock throbbing already. I spit right onto his tongue before dragging my own tongue across his and then kissing him again. Both of our lips are slick with saliva, spit dripping down our chins a little bit. Stevie even pulls back to catch a line of drool off my chin and then lick from my jaw right up to my lips. I kiss him hard, and I kiss him deep, and I kiss him intentionally. I want him to express how I feel through this lip-contact, via the way I'm touching him and holding him and supporting him. He needs to know. Stevie fights back a little, tugging on my hair so that I break the next kiss. I grunt as he speaks. "Take me to bed," he demands. With pleasure. I carry him right into my bedroom, still clutching onto him as we fall onto the bed with me on top of him and go right back to kissing. It's like our lips are magnets, constantly finding each other without us even trying. It takes significant effort on my part to pry my lips away from his in order to start doing what I want: getting him naked. Shirts come off first. When I pull back, I sit up slightly to take mine off, and he quickly follows my lead, exposing his torso to me. I lick my lips at the sight of his milky skin, my eyes going right to those perfectly pink nipples of his. I dive right in. Stevie lets out a little cry as I suck tenderly on his little nubs, swirling my tongue around in circles. It makes his back arch, his fingers deep in my hair as he tries to hold back his moans. I tug on it with my teeth a bit which really makes him squeal, but I only do it for a second. As he's catching his breath, I move over to his other nipple and give it the same treatment while my hands slide down to his shorts to start undoing them. Once they're opened and ready to be taken off, I stop the assault on his sensitive nipples and sit up on my heels as I take off his shorts and underwear in one go. Now he's completely naked and under me, and I lick my lips seeing how hard and turned on he is. He reaches down to touch himself, but I slap his hand away. His pleasure is mine. I wrap my own fingers around his cock, making him mewl before I bend over and take him into my mouth. That's what really make him purr. He tries to grab the back of my head and pull me deeper onto his cock, but I grab his wrist and pin it to the bed while I blow him. I bob up and down at a decent pace, my mouth salivating like crazy. It's like I'm starving right now. I keep having to pull off to swallow all the spit accumulating in my mouth, or to lick up all that wetness off his shaft and his balls. Stevie's not complaining though. He just moans softly, letting me work him over with my mouth. Soon, I sit up on my knees, staring at him as I unbutton my jeans and pull down the fly. I can almost see his mouth watering when he realizes I'm not wearing underwear again. I don't know why, but it turns Stevie on like crazy. He sits up quickly, moving my hands away from my crotch so he can have the honor of pulling my cock out. First, he puts his face right into the open zipper, into my pubes, inhaling me as his lips kiss the top of my shaft. Then he opens my jeans more, letting my hard cock swing out tantalizingly. His eyes watch it bounce before he catches the head on his tongue and then carefully wraps his lips around it. I groan softly, exhaling deeply as Stevie's familiar tongue rolls around the glans, clearly getting his fill of precum before he takes me deeper. I put my hand on the back of his head to guide him each inch, but he reaches behind to grab my wrist and put hold both of my hands behind my back, somewhat mimicking the way I pinned his hands earlier. He wants to take charge of my cock like I did his. I grin a little, amused. I could easily get myself out of Stevie's loose grip, but I resist every urge to fuck his pretty mouth and just enjoy the show. He works at his own pace, only using his lips and tongue, rocking back and forth slowly. Then, looking up at me, he takes me inch by inch until his nose is nestled in my pubes. Fuck, what a sight. I moan, my cock aching in his throat. I push my hips forward a bit and he grunts before pulling back, taking a small breath, and going right back to it. Even if he has my hands "tied", I keep working my hips in time with his bobs. We're a well-oiled machine of sexual, incestuous pleasure right now. Nothing but smooth motions and hard cocks and copious amounts of spit. When Stevie pulls off my cock to catch his breath again, my cock jumps at the sight of him. His lips are red and glistening, drool dripping down his chin like before, only messier this time. He looks so fucking sexy. I wrench my wrists from his grip and take his face my hands, kissing him sloppily, swapping back and forth between lapping up his spit and tongue-kissing him. Then, I push him down onto his back. He loosely strokes himself as he watches me take my jeans off and kick them to the floor, totally naked now. My hands find my cock, and I give my member a solid squeeze before telling Stevie to flip over. He does so without complaint and without hesitation, showing off his flawless backside to me. God, the sight of it makes my dick twitch every time. He's perfect for me, the perfect size to be under me, to manhandle, to caress and love, to make me feel like a man. He's been starting to grow hair a bit more on his body, a little around his hole too, and even that I don't mind. He's growing up, and I'm gonna love him regardless. I lean down and kiss the center of his back, inhaling him. His skin still manages to smell so boyishly clean, in an oddly pure way. But the closer I get to my goal, the more sensual his scent becomes. Once I'm between his crack, I just smell sex. Unadulterated sex. I moan as his scent fills my nostrils, and I bite one of his cheeks, eliciting a little moan from him. I slide my hands up the backs of his thighs before they cover each cheek. I spread them just a little to get a teensy glimpse of that beautiful hole peering up at me, still as pink as the day I first fucked him. I can't wait any longer. I dive right in with my tongue, and as soon as I make contact with his most sensitive place, he gasps, even lifts his ass up a bit more for me. What a good boy. To reward him, I give him a firm slap on his ass, and it echoes around the room along with his little cry. Fuck, he's so tasty. I pull back for a moment to see his hole dripping with my saliva, practically winking for more. I spit right onto it before covering it with my lips, lapping and kissing. I have him soaking before I rub my face all between his cheeks, wanting to overwhelm myself with his aroma. It's my boy, my little brother, my lover. It's all I want. After rimming him for nearly ten minutes, I give him one long swipe of my tongue, from his taint, across his hole, and to the small of his back. Then, I start to crawl over him. I reach towards his face, grab his chin, and tilt it towards me, kissing him tongue-first. I want him to taste himself, to know exactly what I love about him. He moans against me as I rolls onto his back again. As we kiss, I feel his hand pawing at my cock, and I let out a little moan as he strokes me slowly. He's the one who initiates it -- he guides my cock right to his dripping hole and rubs the tip of my dick against his opening. He's laid claim over my lips, so all I do is push forward and try to enter him. He gasps slightly against my mouth as the head eases in, but I could use a little more spit on my cock. So I pull back, spit into my palm, rub it into my shaft, and try again. This time, I take over. I grasp my cock and rub it against him before pushing in, and two inches of me slide in with ease. Stevie tightens at first before relaxing and allowing me to inch my way deeper into him. I watch his face the whole time, seeing him squirm, watching his expression shift from surprised and slightly uncomfortable to totally pleased. Once I smoothly slide my entire cock into him and have my nuts pressed against his skin, I lean down and kiss him once more. Then, we fuck. I start slow, gradually picking up the pace over the course of a dozen thrusts before I'm giving it to him how I want to. Stevie's eyes roll back for a while, his mouth ajar and his fist wrapped tightly around his cock. It makes me feel powerful, in a way, when I send him to this state -- a state where he can't even focus his sights on anything. He just has to give himself into the sensations. When he opens his eyes again and looks up at me, I smirk down at him a bit, and for whatever reason, that makes him blush. I can't explain why I get such a rush from making Stevie's cheeks glow red. He looks so damn cute, and with him under me right now, it only makes me want to fuck him harder, make him cum with an intensity he's never known. I slide my index and middle fingers over his lips before easing them into his mouth, and he immediately starts sucking on them. At the same time, he strokes his cock way faster. He keeps his eyes on mine, his eyebrows raised in the middle so high that he looks worried, or confused. But I know he's just feeling good. As am I. My cock feels incredible inside of him, snug and warm, all my nerve endings practically on fire but in the best way. But there's something else too. Something in my chest. Despite him sucking tenderly on my fingers, or me pile-driving my cock into him with deep thrusts, I only feel it when our eyes meet. That love. My orgasm is a slow, steady build. I can feel it coming a mile away, and it takes several minutes before it starts making itself more apparent. I remove my fingers from Stevie's mouth, putting my hand on the bed beside his head and holding myself up as I rut into him harder. Stevie senses I'm close, and he lets go of his own cock to grab the back of my head and pull me down for a deep, intimate kiss. I cum right then and there. I groan against his lips, and he digs his heels into my ass to pull me into him even more. I plant myself deep in him as my cock throbs and pumps out shot after shot. My legs shake from the intensity, I almost see stars, and I dare not move until my nuts have emptied that huge load into my little brother. I can't even breathe until the climax finally passes. When it's over, I exhale for so long that I feel like I'm wringing myself out, but God, I feel fucking good. Total satisfaction. I bury my face in Stevie's neck, catching my breath as he giggles and plays with my hair. He nips at my ear a bit. "You okay?" "That was one for the books," I tell him, and he laughs a little. I kiss his neck once before slowly lifting myself up, giving him a smile. "Your turn." He bites back a smile as he reaches between us, and I let him touch himself as I pull my cock out of him. I lick my lips a bit, spreading his legs open and replacing his hand with my own. I stroke him slowly, almost teasingly slow, as my other hand slides across his taint and down to his freshly-fucked hole. Two of my fingers slip in easily, testing the wetness, and Stevie clutches onto the bed as he squirms. I grin a bit, looking down at my fingers and eyeing the way my cum leaks from him. Damn, it really must have been a huge fucking load. I position myself under him, sitting on my heels and lifting his legs back again. At the sight of his red, cummy, slightly puffy hole, my cock twitches again, and my mouth starts to water. I lean down and start eating him out again, and Stevie gasps more loudly than he has all night. My tongue eases right into him, and I taste a mix of both of us. I moan as my own cum starts to collect in my mouth, and I let it gather before I set him back down, crawl over him, and have him open wide. When I part my lips, my cum slides off my tongue and right onto his, and he accepts it greedily before pulling be down for a slow, nasty kiss. I'm horny again. Part of me wants to just stick my cock in for round two, but it wouldn't be fair. I know he really wanted to fuck me again, so... Here goes. Attempt number two. I reluctantly pull away from him to quickly grab the bottle of lube off the nightstand (always kept within reach). I squirt some into my palm before wrapping that hand around his cock tightly. His hips thrust up as I tug, grinning while I coat his hardness with lubricant. Those wet noises are so loud and slick that my own dick is twitching to lift again. But I focus. This is for Stevie. I thinks he's expecting a simple handjob, so he's in for a treat. When I straddle him, he looks up at me with surprise. "Shut up," I tell him before he says anything. I just squirt a little lube on my fingertips and then adjust my position so that I'm straddling him while on left knee and my right foot. I reach back to apply it to my hole, and gently finger myself a little. Fuck, I'm tight. This is gonna be intense again, isn't it? I toss the lube aside before picking his cock up, holding it firmly, and then lowering myself onto it. I close one of my eyes as the head of his cock, assisted by the lube, slides right into me. As soon as he enters me, Stevie whimpers. "Dean--" "Shhh," I tell him, my free hand on the center of his chest as I keep a hold on his cock. Once I'm low enough to feel my ass nudge my fingers, I let go of him and sink down slowly. I clench my teeth harder the deeper he gets. Jesus, since when is this kid so huge? When my ass is pressed into his lap, I shift onto both knees and I close my eyes for a moment to get used to the stretch. I still don't understand how Stevie can take my cock so well, but I push through it. I keep reminding myself the last time we did this: it started feeling good after I got used to it. I just need a little time. That's all. I feel Stevie grabbing onto my thighs, and I look down at him before I start grinding my hips. I feel a little silly in this position, if I'm being honest. When Stevie rides me, he looks like he's having the time of his life showing off for me. Maybe I should just try to emulate that. This is for Stevie, after all. So keep grinding, making sure to get him deep whenever I work my hips inward. Stevie moans in pleasure, digging his nails into my quads as I start to raise myself up and down. This is even trickier. How does Stevie do it so smoothly? Is this kid really gonna have to teach me how to bottom? I do my best, though, and Stevie doesn't seem to care one way or another. He's clearly feeling good. I keep a hand between his pecs as I ride him slowly, biting my lip as my hole adjusts to his shape. It takes a bit, but soon, I get that familiar, almost-good sensation. It helps that I'm seeing how Stevie is feeling, that I'm still taking charge of his pleasure, that he knows I'm doing this for him and him alone. Cute little fucker. I love him so much. After another few minutes, Stevie starts to stutter. "You feel so f-fucking go-ood," he moans. "Just relax, baby," I tell him softly. Stevie closes his eyes, completely letting me take over. He just clutches onto me tightly, every now and again arching his back when I get extra-deep. I can't believe my little brother is inside of me right now. It's incredible. Now I can take what I've given. Mutual exchange between the both of us. "D-Dean," Stevie moans, raising his hips a bit. "What?" "I'm close." I lick my lips slightly before I take his hands and pin them above his head gently. I lean over, my face close to his, keeping his dick where it is. He opens his eyes when he senses me nearby. "Cum in me, little bro," I tell him, and Stevie locks eyes with me as he tries rutting up against me. I sit myself down deep into his lap and just grind, grunting softly. "Cum in me, Stevie." He doesn't last long after that. Stevie's eyes go wide before he clenches them shut. He moans out and starts cumming inside of me, his cock throbbing and twitching as he pumps his load into his big bro. I just grin slightly, moving my hips very slowly and watching his facial expressions shift. Finally, after half a minute, he starts to relax a bit, looking sleepy. I chuckle softly, letting go of his wrists and sitting straight up in his lap. "You're welcome," I tell him. "Shut up," he says softly, completely exhausted, the faintest smile appearing on his lips.