so, i'm not dead. this story is not dead. it's just taken me a while to get enough to post a whole chapter--a whole year. meh. still sort of working on that compilation book, but with upcoming college graduation, my life has taken on a fatalistic hectic note. so, i'm writing constantly, but not much i've been able to post here. i even attempted NanoWrimo for all of two days before other life intervened. oh well.
thank you, everyone who has kept up with this story and subtly (and not so subtly) pestered me to continue working on Stepbrothers. hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. i also want to thank the reviewers i had for Plenty To Talk About--by the time i was able to reply to those reviews, enough time had gone by to make it seem incidental, and now i feel even worse about not replying. hope you guys forgive me.
saturday, 20 november, 2010. 7:06 pm.
It's a powerful thing, to know you have explicit permission to touch someone, anywhere, anytime, and not even have it be sexual. My hands on him and his hands on me, elbows and shoulders, hips and knees, and maybe bruises were involved, but it was still worth it. Both of us grinned like silly fools by the time we had Danny's bike and mine, pushing off and heading for home.
--- --- --- (chapter begins)
I stopped coming home the week after my birthday. My stuff was still there, for the most part, though I had some clothes stashed away in Greg's room.
My presence at the apartment went fairly unnoticed, or rather, not remarked upon by anyone. It became commonplace for me to fall asleep alone in his bed, wake up to find him sprawled in the middle or half on top of me, having to navigate my way out of bed and into my clothes before wandering into the living room and into whatever was leftover from the night before.
Sometimes there were people passed out on the floor or couch--and once, in the bathtub--and sometimes there was vomit in the kitchen or tabs of acid left out on the counter. I ignored most of it, stepping over the unpleasant as I grabbed a bit to eat and left for school, work, or Benji's.
Every so often, I'd head back to the house, dropping off old laundry and picking up new, fucking Danny if he was home. His kisses then were desperate and starving, and if I was honest, I felt starved myself.
I sometimes woke up with a boner and a remembered taste of Danny against my mouth, the ghost of his touch on my skin even as I'd shuffle off to the bathroom to jerk off. It wasn't anything I actively thought about, but I was aware it was there, regardless.
"Got a girl coming in, Saul."
Greg's voice called from the bathroom as I passed by, and I stuck my head in, seeing him shaving before the mirror.
"For the night?" I asked, and he shook his head.
"Old friend from home, she'll be in until New Years."
I nodded and left the apartment.
It was the last day of school before the break for Christmas, and I had two finals to make it through before the day was over. My mind grappled with the cold anxiety of whether or not the couple hours of study over the past few days had been enough, if the pot I'd smoked the night before had wasted the effort of studying I'd done afterward. I was tempted to skip out, to take my bike and travel around for the day, to only head in somewhere when the cold bite of the wind through my jeans got to be too much.
I went to school.
I went to Benji's afterward.
Pete finally got around to telling his parents about Casey at some point, and the tension in the house was still pretty thick. Pete walked around with a sullen expression and Benji was anxious, though he tried to cover it over by keeping up a line of offbeat banter while we played video games in his room.
A brief spat of anger came from the living room and Benji paused the game, listening before slinking over to his door and then creeping down the hall.
Pete was yelling, more in frustration than anger, and his parents yelled back, voices tight with aggravation and disproval. With a final slew of cursing, Pete stormed back into the hall, sweeping past us and into his room, the door slamming against the wall as he crashed around a bit.
We slinked over to his door, looking in to see him busily putting some things together, thunder etched deep on his face. When he caught sight of us, he paused, his eyes taking in the worry on his brother's face, Benji's over-bright eyes. Without a word, he walked over and gathered Benji in a fierce hug.
"S'gonna be okay, little man, jus' gonna go stay with Casey tonight."
His voice was protective, reminding me of that first time he gave us pot, how he'd looked at us and made us promise we wouldn't smoke anything, take anything, unless it'd come from him. Benji nodded, stepping back and watching a calmer Pete grab a few more things before leaving the house.
I had planned on leaving too, but one look at Benji's face in the aftermath of the scene convinced me to spend the night, the two of us holing up in his room. He didn't talk about his brother, and I didn't bring it up, though I lay awake long after he'd gone to sleep.
Part of me had always felt like Pete was my brother, in a way, though not so far that I would have pulled away from fucking him.
But seeing Benji's worry, seeing Pete's worry for Benji…I hadn't been included in that mix. That didn't surprise me, but the twinge of hurt I felt because of it did. I picked at the scab a while, laying there in the dark listening to my best friend breath, but after a while I gave up. Things were as they were, and I learned early on in life not to load myself down with pity.
With that settled, I finally let myself fall asleep, curled up in a pocket of warmth beneath the shared blanket and sheet.
I woke before my best friend in the morning, dawn barely broken as I lay there for a while. When I just couldn't stand it anymore, I crawled out of bed, waking him some in the process.
"Sh. Going home, 'Ji."
"Home home or home?"
He was sleepy, voice muffled against his pillow, and I smirked a bit.
"Home home. Stop by later if ya wanna hang out."
He slipped back into sleep without having to think about it, his breath leveling out with ease. My grin was fond as I shook my head, stepping into my shoes and tapping the toes on the floor to better situate them on my feet.
The cold early morning was quiet, very few people out and about--it was before the morning rush. I looked up the leaden gray sky, wondering if snow was going to break free before Christmas, though we never get much until January, more ice than snow at that.
Both cars were gone when I got to the house, everything quiet as I let myself in with my key. So quiet, in fact, that I half feared Danny had spent the night elsewhere, my gut twisted into knots until I pushed open the bedroom door and found him asleep, the comforter pulled up to his ears to keep out the chill.
I stepped out of my shoes and jeans, leaving them wherever they fell on the floor before peeling my socks off and throwing the balled lumps to the side. When I nudged him, Danny sleepily rolled over, making room for me to slip into bed with him--the smell of unwashed teen male enveloped me as I huddled under his blanket, trying not to get too close because I was still pretty cold from the ride.
Before I had time to fully warm up, I fell back asleep.
Something brushed my cheek, touched my eyelid, and I frowned and moved my face away, hearing a light snicker that made me finally open my eyes.
Danny was awake, humor easy in his grin as his fingertip again brushed my cheek. I halfheartedly pushed his hand away and it didn't dampen his humor any, though he gave a pretend pout before turning more serious.
"When did you get in?"
I stretched some; "This morning."
"…Before or after Dad left?"
He nodded, as though that explained everything, and didn't say anything more on the subject.
After a rather large and lazy yawn, he went as to crawl over me. I waited until he was straddling my thighs before grabbing his wrist, making him pause and look down at me, his mouth pulling into a grin. He leaned down and I leaned up, exchanging a kiss tainted with the thickness of morning breath, but it still felt important.
He broke the kiss with a low hum, eyes amused as he stared down at me some more, but he finally said, "Going to go take a shower."
His palm was hot as it found my shoulder, fingers briefly squeezing before he said, "Come with me."
My unquestioning agreement made him grin, and I couldn't help but return it, amused at the lasciviousness in the quirk of his eyebrows.
I followed him to the bathroom, stripping off my shirt and briefs before emptying my bladder in the toilet while he got the water running. I left him doing his own bit of pissing as I got under the hot spray in the tub, fingers splayed against the water and feeling its heat spread deep in my bones.
I was already soaping up my hair by the time he joined me--his eyes on my backside were nearly as hot as the water, my dick demanding attention and disappointed to not receive it. As I rinsed off, hands found their way to my spine, running down to the top of my ass and then up again, then wandering down every so often for a cheeky squeeze.
No pun intended.
"Still not much of an ass," I commented, and he hummed, squeezing in such a way that my dick jumped, a low moan spilling from my throat without permission.
"Just enough," he contradicted, voice husky, which did more for me than his fingers, my breath coming out in a sigh.
"You're supposed to be washing," I finally told him, and he chuckled.
He emphasized this by rubbing soap on my butt, and I snorted.
He laughed, "Okay, okay."
Still, I mourned the loss of his touch as he turned those hands onto himself, washing with lightning speed while I watched.
He still had soap on his face when I knelt before him and took his dick in my mouth, shocking him into burning the fuck out of his eyes.
"You're an evil little shit, Saul," he growled, breath hitching as I showed him a particularly evil tongue trick he'd apparently forgotten I knew.
He looked down just when I happened to glance up, our eyes catching and spreading a flush through both of us. His hand found my shoulder, slight pressure telling me to pull off, and I let him steady me as I found my feet again. His face was serious, relaxed despite the intensity of his stare.
He finally sighed; "I miss you like a sappy line, Saul."
"Nothing sappy with you, just truth."
I was terrified, that I'd said it, that I felt it, terrified at the expression in those eyes. Terrified at the words that formed unspoken on his mouth moments before he kissed me and I forgot to be terrified as I settled into horniness instead.
I would have let him fuck me up against the wall, but he made us turn off the water and return to the bedroom.
The only thing he asked of me was for me to sit on his face, making us both laugh though we felt the seriousness of the request, because there was hardly any time before I followed through, panting at the things his mouth could do.
Sex with Danny was always so hilarious and intense, he could make me laugh in one breath and shudder in near-orgasm in the next.
I let him take me on my knees, one arm bent back and his hand pushing my wrist up toward my shoulder blades, the vague pain and submission making my head spin. I felt drunk and intensely high, pummeled and battered and oh-so-good.
He didn't argue when I finally twisted my wrist from his grip, my head drifting even as I pushed up a bit, forcing him to accommodate as I rose to my knees. One forearm wrapped across my upper chest for balance, and I shifted it up to rest against my Adam's apple as I leaned back against him.
His voice was breathless, disapproving and needy, hitching with lust as he understood what I meant, what I wanted--his head told him to disapprove, but the rest of him liked the idea too much.
His response was to press a bit harder against my throat and I gasped in an obstructed breath, almost giddy. Our movements were awkward, his dick moving just enough to punch stars along my veins and his arm only choking me enough to deepen the spinning in my head.
I felt the blood pounding in my temples, his breath harsh in my ears, and it seemed like I might draw him into me, swallow him to be with me always.
A hand found my half-hard dick, familiarly squeezing, and I groaned, vision dimming a bit.
"Hurry up and come before you die, asshat."
Danny's voice was only half-joking, and I wished I had the ability to tell him I did feel a bit like I was dying, that it was almost ok, if only because it would be this way. I closed my eyes and shut off my brain, letting my body fall into an orgasm that nearly tipped me over the brink of coma.
Afterward, sense became hazy, my body thrumming and then going numb, my eyes rolling back as I heard Danny cursing in my ear.
The next thing I knew, I was splayed on my back on the bed, Danny's hands rubbing my temples--his pale face was the first thing I saw when my eyes opened, feeling thick and confused as I tried to make sense of what had happened.
He didn't fuss, simply let me gather my wits a moment before asking, "You okay?"
I nodded, mumbling an apology that had no voice.
I felt drained, but had the presence of mind to ask, "Did you come?"
"With you going limp on me?"
The question was sardonic, and I sighed another apology, seeing him shrug.
"There are worse things than losing a boner."
"But not many," I teased, just strong enough to add color to my voice and was rewarded with a grin.
He pulled away then, grabbing clean clothes from his dresser while I tried to gather up the strength to do the same. He left before I managed it and I sighed, a hand going to my throat and wondering if there were any marks left behind, though I doubted it.
He hadn't been rough at all, really, which is why I'd trusted him in the first place.
When I made it to the living room, I saw he was in the kitchen, frying something on the stove. I wandered in and he glanced at me, offering a smile-non-smile before redirecting his attention to the pan. I stood there, watching him and feeling washed out, still a bit pale and shaky and needing to sleep another couple hours.
I thought about going back to bed but migrated to the couch instead, laying down and falling asleep in the silence of the house, asleep before Danny had time to finish in the kitchen.
A hand on my shoulder and I came out of sleep slowly, the flesh of my face feeling heavy and dysfunctional.
I mumbled something and there was a moment of heavy silence before the hand came back, shaking me until I at least opened my eyes. Danny looked down at me, his frown lightening once he saw I was finally awake.
"You've been sleeping hours," he declared, and I frowned as I pushed up a bit from the cushion.
The cable box declared it to be almost four, and my head felt like cement. I mumbled an expletive and saw him grin a bit before he turned and disappeared into the bedroom.
The bathroom door sounded, and I saw Benji walk out and into the living room, his grin teasing as he said, "Up, Sleeping Beauty?"
I pushed myself into a more upright position, rubbing the thickness from one eye as I asked, "When'd you get here?"
"Only just. Danny said you'd been sleep almost all day."
I nodded; "Almost. Feel like someone put a brick upside my head."
He snickered, and Danny rejoined us in the living room, shouldering his way onto the couch by pushing me over to make room--I elbowed him in the ribs, hard enough to make him grunt but not so hard to cause bad feelings.
We watched television for about an hour or so but decided to cut out before my mom or Andrew came home--we rode our bikes to behind a particular strip mall. Most of the places closed at five and it was rare enough to find anyone else back there.
We goofed around a bit, rough housing and talking shit, sometimes serious but mostly not. As it grew darker, I noticed a particular spot near a dumpster that was almost private unless you happened to be standing within sight of it.
During a bout of horseplay, Danny's arm locked around my head as he dug fingers into my ribs to make me gasp and squirm, I twisted away and grabbed his arm, pulling him into the alcove before he had time to realize or protest.
His back pressed to brick, it didn't take him long to understand, especially not when I pressed against him, breath hot on his cheek before he met me in a kiss.
"Oh, damn, guys, really?! …Ugh."
Benji wandered off and I grinned against Danny's mouth, hearing him stifle an embarrassed chuckle though his hands slid from my back down to my ass. I broke the kiss to place my mouth to his neck, lips brushing his throat before tonguing my way to his ear, feeling his breath hitch as he shivered.
Whether he was distracted by the teeth I applied to his earlobe or how public this really was, he didn't notice my hands on his pants until I'd unzipped them enough to put my hand down inside.
I ignored the shaky warning, slowly dropping to my knees before him and just as slowly drawing his dick into my mouth. He hissed a stifled exclamation, but he didn't try to stop me I quickened the pace, knowing we didn't have the leisure of taking our time.
Fingers clenched in my hair, not directing but allowing me to do my thing, and I've always liked that about Danny.
It really didn't take long before he came with a low grunt, his fingers almost petting my hair as I swallowed and licked at what I'd missed. I stood back a bit as he put himself to rights, laughing outright at his mutter about his body being too made of jelly to properly function.
When I went as to leave the spot, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into a kiss, his tongue seeking out the flavor of himself in my mouth, his groan low but earnest. I finally pulled away, breath short even as I grinned, thumping him on the chest in wordless reprimand before I walked out of the alcove.
Benji stood against the wall a distance away, head propped up back as he stared up at the sky in obvious boredom--he didn't look over as I walked to join him.
"Feel good about yourself?" he asked, mildly sardonic, and I replied more cheerfully.
He snorted, looking at me; "You are such a slut."
"If I'm only with one guy, how does that make me a slut?"
"You could be jacking off and I'd still call you a slut. …Slut."
I punched his shoulder and he laughed, dodging my next attempt and managing to land a few blows of his own.
"He's lucky sluts turn me on," Danny quipped as he joined us, causing my face to turn red and making them laugh.
"You are both a coupla asshats."
I looked up when Danny trailed off, my fingers slowing in their work of relacing my sneaker while sitting on the floor--Benji had showed me a different pattern for lacing before he'd left after dinner, and I'd attempted it on my own before deciding I liked it better the way I'd had it before.
After a moment of my stare he finally said, "You called me Fletch, earlier."
My tone was carefully neutral and he winced, just a twitch around his eyes.
"When I tried to wake you when Benji got here."
I looked down at my shoe again, resuming my activity, my tone dull as I voiced an apology. I felt his stare and refused to acknowledge it, knowing there was nothing more I could say--I couldn't remember saying it, couldn't remember if I'd been dreaming of him.
After a long while, he suddenly sighed; "I'm sorry, Saul. There wasn't a reason to bring it up."
I shrugged; "Whatever."
"You're still working on the same fucking shoe, don't even try to pretend it doesn't fucking matter."
I looked up at his sharp tone, frowning a bit, knowing he was partly right--the same shoe was still in my hands, fingers listlessly picking at a frayed end of the shoelace instead of working to keep threading it the last few holes.
"It doesn't matter," I said, and his frown darkened. "I mean it, Danny. It doesn't. Not the way you think it does."
His tone made me shake my head, putting the shoe aside and working out a crick in my neck as I pulled one leg up until I could put my cheek on my knee.
"…You're flexible," he commented, obviously changing the subject.
I shrugged; "And you've got a nice nutsack. We all have something in our favor."
I felt him grin just from the way the air seemed to change, and when I glanced up and caught him ineffectively hiding his grin by looking away, I felt tension fade I hadn't known was there. Even before I'd picked up my shoe to finally finish lacing it, I'd resolved to show him just how flexible I could be once it was safe to fuck his brains out.
A/N: until next time.