WARNINGS!!

Firstly, this is a YAOI story, which means yummy guy-on-guy ness. You don’t like, fine, don’t read… you don’t like and read, fine, don’t bother flaming. You flame, I laugh.

Second, there is a whole crap lode of angst. Mainly ‘cause I was writing this in the middle of the night, all in one sitting, was pissed off, beyond hot (stupid summer) and I have recently been writing a super cheerful and humorous story (also a yaoi, which shall be posted soon… eventually…) so I was in the mood for angst.

Third, there is a lemon, which means sex. Don’t like, don’t read. Simple, ne?

Fourth, there is slight incest. I say slight ‘cause they’re step-brothers.

Lastly, there is a LOT of cursing.

If you are offended by any of the above mentioned, don’t read this story. There is a button at the top of your screen that lets you turn back. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

With that done, the next thing to say is this is a ONESHOT. There will be no more parts. These characters most likely will never be used again, except possibly for filler characters in another story, but this I highly doubt.

Disclaimer: this is mine. It is only mine. It will only ever be mine. I wrote it all by my self. .

(Ano… sorry for my grumpiness… I’m running on two hours of sleep and it’s really hot out right now…)

NOW! For the feature presentation!

Brothers

Written by: Uke Mochi

Date completed: June 25, 2006

.........O

I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep and it fucking sucks. I hate it. Granted, its summer so I can sleep as long as I like, but I have plans tomorrow. Funny how stuff like this happens at the worst of times. It pisses me off… and its all because of him. That fucking gay bastard. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be happily sleeping, looking forward to spending the day at the skate park with the guys and maybe impressing a few girls but no. I have to stay up all night because of another guy.

The way his light blond hair swishes as he flicks it back over his shoulder. I fucking hate that. It’s like he thinks he’s a god damned chick! The way he talks, the way he walks, the way he applies lip gloss. I hate them all. I mean, what kind of self respecting man wears lip gloss? I sure as hell don’t. That part is what pisses me off the most. That son of a bitch has the nerve to carry a purse and wear make up. Wait. I take that back.

I don’t hate him for who he is. I don’t give a rat’s ass about that. It’s what he unintentionally does to me. I hate the way he looks more like a chick than half of the girls I know, but at the same time I love it. I hate the fact that his hair is ten times as long as it should be, sweeping the middle of his back whenever he moves, although I wish I could run my hands thought it. I hate how he would rest his cheek in one hand and purse his fat, shiny lips when he was bored in class, and since I sat right next to him, I got hit full force with girly man-ness. I hate it, always have and always will, but it turns me on.

No matter how much I deny it, I always got hard whenever he did that. Whenever he’s around too, for that matter. It’s fucked up how I, one of the school’s top skaters, have a freaking crush on another guy. Not only that, but the school’s gayest, blondest, hottest piece of shit guy. Worse thing is, he’s my brother.

“My step-brother,” I breathe, my hand trailing down my chest to my groin, “My brother, my step-brother… I have a fucking crush on my step-brother.”

I close my eyes. We’re complete opposites. Black hair, blond hair. Brown eyes, blue eyes. Basement, attic. Death metal, most everything else (thank god not rap). Black, lavender. Skateboard, bike. Chocolate, vanilla. Peanut butter, caramel. Even our names are opposites! Liam, his name is Liam. Determined guardian. I’m Chad. Warrior. My hand slips lower, dipping below the waistband of my boxers. I can’t believe I’m doing this…

I grab my hardened cock and start pumping fiercely. I want this done and over with so I can stop thinking of him and sleep. My mind wanders…

I start to wonder what Liam is doing right now. Is he sleeping like I should? Is he reading? Or is he like me, silently jacking off to thoughts of me? I hope for the last one and love how disgusted with myself I feel… I can see him now…

He’s lying in the midst of pillows, stuffed animals and tangled purple sheets. Over one shoulder is the blond brain I know is there. His eyes are closed, as if mocking me, like he’s saying, ‘ha! I can sleep but you can’t!’ I know he’s awake. His soft breath is quick and irregular and one hand is dancing over the light pink nub that is his nipple, playing with it. The other toys with flesh I can’t see, obscured conveniently by his knee. Notice the sarcasm.

He lightly gasps my name and I grind my teeth. I can’t, however, stop the grunt. Only in acknowledgment. He shifts so he’s on all fours, well three, since one hand’s still on his dick. I unconsciously do the same. I’m oblivious to everything, caught up in my own little private porno. His torso drops; now a majority of his weight is held by those dainty little shoulders as his now free hand heads towards his cute little ass, running over it, stroking it, caressing it. I’m vaguely aware of the smell of my sheets as I burry my face into them. Oddly enough, this is lulling me to sleep.

I gasp in pain… no, more of a discomfort. Without realizing it, I just jabbed a finger into my own god damned ass, just as I imagine my fantasy Liam did. The look on his face is one is one of pure bliss, so I rock my hips, pushing my finger deeper into myself. It hurts like hell, but I continue, shoving my finger up my ass while thrusting my cock into my hand.

I sniffle. Great. Just fucking great. Not only am I jacking off and finger-fucking myself to my brother’s image, but I’m crying to?! I am a lousy piece of shit, the lowest kind. Worse than dog shit. Worse than horse shit, cow shit, and ever other kind of shit on this fucked up planet. Heh. I’m worse than alien shit, and that stuff glows neon fucking green.

I climb out of bed. My knees pop. I can’t sleep ‘cause it’s too hot up here in my room. I pad over to my door and quietly climb down the stairs, skipping the three that squeak. Maybe I can crash down in Chad’s room. It’s always nice and cool down there. He’s the only one of us guys that can sleep in a tee shirt now a days. Doesn’t mean he does. I flush at the memory of my brother coming to breakfast in only his underwear. I had at least enough common sense to put on a shirt ‘cause Cathy, Mom would have made me put one on before I got food anyway, just like she did to him. I like her for that. She never treats Chad or Rina special ‘cause they’re her biological kids. She never treats me any different because I’m gay. Okay, maybe she does but it’s only girly things like how she looks in certain outfits of make up tips… stuff she cant ask Mitch, Mia or Rina ‘cause, granted they’re girls, but they’re young. The twins are eleven; Rina’s only eight.

I make it to the kitchen on the first floor, suddenly feeling foolish for not thinking of grabbing a shirt. Than again, it probably would have been one of the ones of his I’ve ‘borrowed’ from the laundry basket and he would have yelled at me and made me give it back to him along with the rest of my stash. Than I’d guiltily hand it all over: eight shirts (mostly black), two pairs of pj pants I’ve ‘fixed’ (i.e. sewn back together) and a dying sweat coat. I have no reason to keep all of it. None of it fits, nor is much of it super comfy (most of it’s a nuisance since it falls off my slight frame) but it’s his, and I love him. It’s gross, I know, and he could never love me back but I can’t help it. I love him. I love my brother… much more than I should.

The clock in the hall strikes two, startling me out of my musings and making me jump. I take a step into the kitchen, than another, welcoming the coolness of the linoleum on my feet.

Dad and Cathy… Mom have been together for seven years and married two more. Rina doesn’t even know her real dad ‘cause he ditched Cathy… Mom (gotta remember that…) and Chad before Ca—Mom knew she was preggo. Wasn’t even the same guy as Chad’s dad, but only me ‘n’ dad know that… our birthdays, that is, mine and Chad’s are only a week apart, his is the thirteenth and mine the twenty-first of July so when we were little we had our birthdays together. I think my crush started around the third one. We were nine…

I unlatch the door down to the basement and open it. A cool breeze wafts up to me as I blindly walk down the stairs. Every summer, when it becomes too hot to bear, I make my way into the dark cave that is Chad’s room. Even in the past few years, when we became more distant, I came down here. I never bothered knocking—I knew he’d say no—, I’d just grab a blanket and sleep outside his door. In the morning he’d trip over me and yell at me and wake the whole house up and… what the hell is that?

I’ve reached his door, which in unusually slightly ajar, and I hear panting. First thing I think of is he somehow got a girl I and is screwing her. I nearly retch. Maybe it’s a guy… I shudder and rub my eyes ‘cause they started to sting wetly. Man, I don’t wanna cry now. I have ta be strong; I have ta see. Shaking, I creep forward and lightly push on his door, bracing myself for the worst.

The sight I’m greeted with isn’t of two naked bodies pressed together, but instead, my sinfully gorgeous step-brother face down in the bed, butt high in the air, stark naked and… I swallow… masturbating. I stare, transfixed and paralyzed to the spot, all my blood draining to two places: my face and my groin.

He isn’t just jerking off, oh no, no, no. he’s jerking off like a gay guy, complete with fingers up his butt. A single tear escapes and slides down my face to drop to the carpet. I don’t know if this is good or bad.

“Nnnn…” he moans, “Liaam…”

I collapse to my knees as more tears fall.

I moan. Stupid… piece of shit… A thump wakes me from my sex/fantasy/daze and I glance over at my door. I see him there on his knees, shaking and crying, staring at me with the most shocked look I have ever seen. Everything is still for a moment as we lock gazes, his a bright electric blue, mine a rich chocolate brown. Than I act.

“You moron!” I yell, although not loud enough to wake anyone, “Can’t you knock, asshole?”

I had sat back and pulled my sheets up to cover my crotch as I glare at the blond. He just sits there.

“Well?” I demand. He stands, barely maintaining his balance he’s shaking so hard. I laugh. “Get over here,” I order. He obeys.

Dropping to his knees in front of me and clutching the edge of my mattress he stutters, “I… I am… I’m so s… sorry Ch… Chad.” He looks like he’s going to be sick. I smirk.

“It’s your fault, y’know,” I tell him softly, looking away, “fucker. I hate you, y’know? You know that right? I hate your fucking guts. It’s your fault I’m like this. Your fault.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him cry silently. It’s pitiful. So fucking pitiful. I turn, grab his chin and drag him up before crashing my lips into his in something somewhat like a kiss. After I shove him roughly away I see he’s once again shocked. Good.

“I hate you so fucking much I want you.

Hate you, want you… which is it? Which is it Chad? Tell me… do you… love me? Tell me damn it!

Chad surprises me yet again by throwing his arms around my neck and leaning heavily against me. I loose my balance and fall backwards, pulling him with me. Our chests are pressed together, his slicked with sweat.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs into my ear, “I hurt. You didn’t protect me, oh wonderfully determined guardian, you didn’t protect the warrior… help me now… fix me… love me… fuck me!”

I hold him close as his tears mingle with mine. Slowly, I nod and say, “I love you so much.”

He just sobs wetly, grinding against me, our erections rubbing pleasantly, painfully.

I try to sit up, but with him on top of me it’s pretty much next to impossible. He realizes this and gets off me, returning to his bed. I stand and head for the desk I can’t see. He hates having dry skin, so I know there’s a bottle of lotion stashed in the top drawer. I find the desk lamp and click it on. After a moment of rummaging, I find what I need and return to Chad’s side, leaving the lamp on. He can see in the dark but I can’t.

He’s sitting coolly on the bed, coldly watching me through his tears. I start to climb on, to join him like when we were kids, but he glares and points at my boxers. I reluctantly remove them, embarrassed that he’s watching every little move I make. Now he allows me on and I sit before him. He scrambles into my lap—I gasp—and tries to impale himself on me. I stop him and he struggles.

“Chad, no. you’re gonna hurt yourself like that…” I whisper to his shoulder.

“I don’t care,” he says. I grin.

“You will in the morning.”

“No I won’t; I’ll be dead asshole!” he spits venomously. I kiss him hard. He freezes, allowing me to tip him back so I’m on top.

“Don’t,” I plead, “please don’t. For me. I’ll do anything! Just please…”

Another of my tears fall and lands on his cheek. He closes his eyes as I kiss him again, this time softer, more passionate.

Clumsily, I grab the lotion, filling one palm and slicking my fingers with it. I kiss down Chad’s neck and across one of his broad shoulders as he clutches me to him, as if he’d die were he to let go. I slip out of his grasp as I continue southward, kissing gently at his soft skin. I reach his hip and lightly bite it. He moans so I do it again, adding some suction as well. I lift my face to look at his, silently asking…

“Fuck me. Now.”

And I comply. I lift his legs to my shoulders and carefully insert one finger into his rear. He growls.

“I said fuck me. There was no mention of fingers.”

I ignore him and place a tentative lick on the tip of his member. He shuts up but grabs the back of my head, urging me to do it again. It’s just sitting there, so I do. What started out as an innocent shut up lick turns into a full fledged blowjob as I stretch and prepare my brother. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m going to do my brother… step-brother. My… lover…

I sit up, removing my fingers (of which I had inserted more whilst distracting him) and my mouth, positioning myself at his entrance. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I grab the lotion and pour a large amount into my hand to coat myself with. That done, I whisper to him, “ I love you Chad,” and press in, slowly, as to not hurt him until I am completely encased in him. I really can’t believe I’m doing this… him.

“Move,” he orders; his voice is gruff, but I hear his pain. I wait a moment longer before starting. The pace I set is slow in the beginning, but picks up speed soon. Encouraged by his steady slew of mismatched syllables and strings of incoherent swears, I continue, assured I’m causing him no pain. My thought, however pure, fog and I ruthlessly pound into my brother, his words, meaningless as they are, perfectly accompany my steady pants. I’m vaguely aware of grabbing his member and pumping it in time to my thrusts… his syllables, mostly ending in n’s and m’s increase in volume until he covers his mouth with his hand. He moans loudly, even through the wad of sheet clenched in his hand and I feel a warm, sticky liquid cover mine. I continue, feeling the heat within me swell to an impossible amount before flooding out of me and into the semi limp body below.

I collapse on top of him and sigh. Chad wraps his arms around my middle and I lay there.

“Liam?”

“Huh?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see his alarm clock. It reads 3:03. Wow… I watch as another minute passes.

“Chad?”

“Huh?”

“we’re all sticky…” and we laugh together for the first time in a long while before drifting asleep, still in that tight, sticky, sweaty embrace.

Owari

End

Now, this is the first detailed lemon I have ever written so, please, give me feedback. Constructive criticism is wanted and very much appreciated. Please help me become a better writer.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed. Ja’ne…