I've Got You, Bro

My eyes snap open to the sound of my alarm. Although it’s 7:00 AM, my room is completely dark because of my blackout curtains. I reach out, using muscle memory to find my phone and place my palm over the screen to silence the alarm. I sit up with a yawn then stand and walk to the window, throwing the curtains open wide. For a moment, I’m blinded by the wave of light that crashes into my face, but it passes quickly enough. Once my eyes adjust, I do my morning stretches, pull on a pair of shorts, and walk out of my room.

Alex’s door is wide open, but I don’t see him inside. I walk into the bathroom and sit myself on the toilet, my shorts around my ankles. I sigh in relief as my body starts to expel the waste it’s collected while I’ve slept.

“Good morning, bro,” Alex says, his head popping around the door frame just as a splash announces that I’m right in the middle of a Number 2. Not that it really matters. Alex and I have taken more shits in front of each other than some married couples.

“’Morning,” I say with a yawn as Alex moves more into the frame, revealing that he is, of course, naked.

“I hope you don’t mind me raiding your fridge. I’m making us breakfast,” he says, leaning against the doorframe with his shoulder. Now that he’s mentioned it, I realize the smell of frying bacon is wafting through the house, although it’s faint from here.

“You gotta stop worrying about things like that,” I tell him, tilting myself to the side as I wipe my ass. “You live here, too. You’re my brother. You can take or use whatever you need until you get stuff of your own.”

“Thanks. I’ll try to be less thankful, I guess,” he says, teasing me. “I gotta get back to the bacon.” And with that, he’s gone.

Seeing him naked reminded me that I was going to try — what had he called it last night? — casual nudity more often. I wash my hands and, when I leave the bathroom, I slip my shorts off and toss them onto the floor in my room and head down the hall. I stop for a moment before stepping out and revealing myself to him. Just one moment of naked privacy before my stepbrother will be able to look at me again. The thought of his eyes on my naked body sends a slight twitch into my cock.

Without waiting any longer, I step out into the kitchen to find him standing at the stove. He isn’t naked anymore. Well, he is, but he also has one of my aprons tied onto him. I guess that makes sense. Frying bacon while naked would be a pretty stupid thing to do. As I make my way to the barstool at the counter, Alex glances at me, his eyes trailing down my naked body.

He doesn’t comment on the fact that I’m nude, but instead jumps into the small talk everyone gets into when they first talk in the morning. How did you sleep? What are your plans for the day? And so on.

I’m not sure how long Alex has been awake, but it was enough time to prep eggs, bacon, toast, and fresh squeezed orange juice which he clearly intends to use for mimosas, if the bottle of champagne on the counter is any indication. I realize that he must have left the house because I didn’t have any champagne here.

“You went shopping?” I ask.

“Only for the champagne,” he says, pulling the bacon out of the pan and piling it on a plate lined with a paper towel. “It was the only thing you were missing.” He pulls four eggs from the carton and cracks each one, letting them fall onto a second pan with a sizzle before turning off the burner with the bacon pan.

I watch him for a moment, impressed at his cooking skills. Sure, what he’s doing is extremely basic, but I couldn’t remember him ever cooking when we lived together.

As the eggs cook, he pours us each a glass. It’s definitely more champagne than orange juice. He gives them a little stir with a spoon and turns to flip the eggs. I crane my neck over the counter, intent to watch him flip the eggs, wondering if he’ll manage not to break the yolk. Instead, my eyes lock firmly onto his ass cheeks, which are exposed in the gap of the apron. One of the strings has found its way into his crack and is buried in the smattering of hair there.

That’s one way Alex and I always differed. I keep everything shaved and bare, while he prefers his pubes and ass hair to stay, although he keeps it trimmed neatly.

I force my eyes to leave his ass as he turns to grab salt and pepper, which he uses to season the eggs. I can tell by the absence of yellow in the pan that the yolk didn’t break.

“You like over medium, right?” he asks, poking one of the yolks gingerly.

“Yep,” I say. “I’m impressed you remember.” He scoops up two of the eggs and puts them on a plate with a few pieces of bacon and two pieces of toast, then sets the plate in front of me before making his own. He does a quick sweep of the kitchen, turning off all the burners and then pulls off the apron.

He walks around the island to sit next to me and I certainly don’t miss when he sneaks a peak at my junk. He picks up his mimosa, which he’s made in wine glasses, and holds it up for a toast.

“It’s seven o’clock in the morning,” I say.

“And? I thought you didn’t have to work today.”

“I don’t, but I have to run errands today.”

“You’re not going to get wasted off one mimosa, Zack,” he counters. That’s true. “You’re twenty years old. This is the kind of thing people in their early twenties do. Live a little.” I pick up the wine glass and tap it against his.

“To new beginnings,” he says with a smile and we both drink.

After we finish breakfast, Alex doesn’t want to quit drinking and admittedly, neither do I, so we make more mimosas and go into the living room where we play Mario Kart for a while. I stop counting how many mimosas he makes after we hit three and have to switch to the premade OJ in my fridge. He isn’t much of a gamer, so I crush him easily over and over again. When we finish the prix and the music swells, I jump up, my excitement at getting first place yet again causes my excitement to mount, the alcohol fueling it.

“No fair!” he says. “It’s your console.”

I start dancing, shaking my ass and singing, “I’m a winner, you’re a loser, I’m a winner.”

“Knock it off!” he says, but I don’t give in. I bend forward, sticking my ass in his face and shaking it.

“Kiss my ass,” I say. Instead, he slaps it with a hearty smack. I stop dancing and turn back to look at him. There’s a hunger in his eyes I haven’t seen before. His cock is hard and I can’t keep my eyes off it. My cock was already half hard, but at the sight of his 8.5 inch uncut cock standing straight up, blood rushes into it.

“Did you learn your lesson?” he says in an almost growl.

“No,” I say with a shake of my head. I know this is wrong, but the alcohol is making me light headed and I can almost feel my inhibitions melting away. I bend forward, putting my hands on the coffee table and jutting my ass out to him. “Maybe I need another.”

Smack! It comes without warning, his hand slapping my right ass cheek. I let out a gasp of pleasure as my cock twitches. Smack! This time he smacks the left, much harder than he had the other side. It stings and I love it.

“Harder,” I moan, moving to kneel on the couch, my hands on the back of it, my back arched. “Spank me harder.”

He stands and moves behind me, rubbing my ass cheek where it must be red.

“Beg for it,” he says.

“Please,” I gasp. “Please!”

“Say my name.”

“Please, Alex, please spank me.”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

He spanks me three times in rapid succession. I’m half laying on the back of the couch, gasping in ecstasy. I turn to see him staring down at me. His finger slides into my crack and caresses my hole. As if shocked by a cattle prod, I jump and scramble off the couch, moving away from Alex. He jumps back in alarm, fear on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his hands held up as if asking me not to shoot him. “I thought you wanted…” He trails off, looking at me helplessly.

“I don’t want,” I say, aware of my raging boner pointing at him like a compass needle. “I mean, I did, but it’s just the alcohol.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince him or myself. Still not sure who I’m speaking to, I say, “You’re my brother for fuck’s sake.”

“I mean,” Alex says hesitantly, “not really, right? Yeah, our parents are married, but they got married when I was sixteen. We only lived together for two years.”

“That doesn’t stop us from being brothers, Alex,” I say. I know that, deep down, I want him to touch me. I want his hands on my body, his fingers in my hole. I want to taste his cock and him to spank my ass raw while he fucks my asshole. But I know I shouldn’t want that.

He doesn’t seem to have any words; he just stands there, staring at me like a puppy caught peeing on the floor. I leave the living room, making  a beeline for my room and shutting the door behind me.

I don’t want to fuck him, I tell myself, knowing full well it’s  a lie.

It’s wrong to want to fuck your brother, I think, but that doesn’t work either. I know it’s wrong. What does it say about me if I like that it’s wrong?

Only now do I realize how childish storming off to my room probably seemed. I go to the door, ready to go out and have a conversation with him, when a sudden feeling of nakedness overtakes me. Of course, I’ve been naked basically all morning, but all of a sudden, I don’t want Alex to look at my naked body. I dress quickly, pulling on the pair of shorts from this morning and a random shirt in my dresser. My ass tingles as the fabric settles over it.

When I come out of my room, I walk to the kitchen but find it empty.

“Alex?” I call out, heading to his room. The door is still open and he isn’t inside. Deciding to cut straight to the chase, I go into my room, grab my phone, and dial his number. It rings several times before going to voicemail.

“Alex,” I say, then stop. What do I even want to say to him? “Call me, please. We really need to talk. If you want to wait until you get home, that’s fine. We can talk then.” Should I tell him I love him, or would that complicate things? Should I tell him I’m sorry that I let things get out of hand? Should I blame the alcohol again? Instead, I don’t say anything else and end up leaving several seconds of silence at the end of the voicemail when I hang up.

After two hours of not hearing from Alex, I decide to leave and run my errands. I can tell that he already took the spare key I made for him and left by the front door. I’m lightheaded from the alcohol, but I feel okay to drive, so I climb into my 2021 Chevy Malibu and make my way to the store.

With my earbuds in, I easily ignore everyone around me as I walk around gathering the groceries Alex and I will need for the next week or two. Not knowing how quickly he goes through toilet paper or paper towels, I buy bigger packs than I normally would have. And, given his physique, I opt to buy healthier ingredients so he’d have a wider range of options while he lived with me.

By the time I leave the store, I don’t feel the effects of the alcohol at all. Part of me wants to get drunk again. But to forget about what happened between me and Alex, or because getting drunk will make me more likely to do it again?

My ass stings slightly as I shift myself in the seat on the drive home. I imagine his hand slapping my ass again. The sound of flesh on flesh. The growl in his voice as he ordered me to beg him to keep going. And I’m hard again. Great… I turn on some music hoping to get my mind off Alex and “I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE” by Måneskin starts blaring and suddenly, my mind floods with thoughts of me on my knees in front of Alex, his balls in my mouth as I stare up into his blue eyes and he looks at me with that hungry expression.

I slam my hand on the volume, shutting off my radio. I force my mind to think of my grandma, rambling on and on about how kids back in her day went to work at the age of twelve and worked sixty-seven hours for a quarter a day or some shit I barely paid attention to. It works, sending the blood rushing from my cock.

When I pull up to our townhouse, I see Alex’s Mazda 3 parked out front.

My arms laden with groceries, I unlock the front door with slightly less finesse than I normally would have achieved and make my way to the kitchen, depositing the bags on the counter. Deciding to put everything away before talking to my brother, I unload the bags and fill our fridge and cupboards with the food I bought, but leave the toilet paper and paper towels on the counter. Alex isn’t in the living room, so I make my way back to his room and open the door.

I should have knocked.

Alex is laying on his bed, legs splayed, with a towel below him. He has his phone in one hand and a dildo in the other. The toy is penetrating his hole, sliding in and out as he moans quietly. His eyes snap to me at the door. He puts his phone down and pulls out an earbud.

“What are you doing in here?” he asks.

“My bad, dude,” I say, but I don’t leave. I’m entranced by the sight of him on his back, a toy inside him. I have a dildo myself and use it frequently, but I always thought Alex was strictly a top, not verse like I am. “Can I join?” I just want things to go back to normal. Maybe if we jerk off together, we can get back to that common ground.

“I dunno,” he says. He closes his legs, hiding his boner on the other side, although I can still see the toy poking out of his hole. “After the way you freaked out this morning? I’m not sure if we should.”

I swallow hard. “Look, Alex,” I say, putting as much sincerity into my voice as I can, “I just wasn’t expecting that. It just got too real, too fast. I’m sorry.”

He smiles and pulls the dildo out of his ass. It’s glistening with lube and his ass juice. He holds it out to me.

“Want to try something new?” he asks. “Why don’t we share this?”

I don’t hesitate to pull my clothes off and jump into his bed. He turns so his back is against the wall. I take the dildo from him and grab the bottle of lube from his table. I stand on my knees on his bed and position the dildo behind me. The idea that this was just inside my brother makes this so fucking hot for me. I push the head of the dildo against my hole, which stretches slightly to accept it. It slides in and I moan in pleasure as the base of it rests against my ass. I grip the end and pull it out until only an inch remains, then slam it back into my ass.

“Here,” Alex says. “Let me help you.”

He grabs the end of the dildo from me and holds it steady against the bed. I lean back, my palms behind me on the bed, my feet flat and start to thrust into the air, sliding the dildo in and out of my ass while Alex’s watches greedily.

“Rub my cock,” I tell him and he raises his eyebrows at me. “Please.”

He wraps his hand around my cock and it slides in and out of his grip as I thrust. I’m groaning, the dildo rubbing against my prostate as I slam my ass into Alex’s fist over and over with both my ass and my pelvis. I look at Alex’s hand wrapped around my cock as my thrusting becomes more erratic. I feel the orgasm building in me.

“I’m going to cum!” I say. I thrust up into his hand and at the same time, Alex pushes the dildo deep into my ass. I groan again, my arms and legs shaking as several ropes of thick cum shoot into the air, hitting my stomach, the bed, and Alex’s hand. Alex pulls the dildo out of me and I fall onto my back. Alex squeezes my cock, pulling all of the cum out of it and then slides it onto the dildo which he promptly inserts into his own ass.

He fucks himself, using the lube, cum, and ass juices on it to help it slide in and out as he rubs his cock with the same hand that rubbed mine. I’m too spent to do much but sit back and watch, but Alex seems content with that. He moans as the dildo slides with wet squelches, his fist working his uncut cock furiously.

Post nut clarity hits me in full force. How wrong this is. The fact that my brother just fucked me with a dildo and jerked me off. That he’s now jerking off to the sight of his brother laying on his bed, covered in cum and sweat.

“Oh fuck!” Alex cries, his toes curling as he cums, shooting several ropes of cum up onto his chest and stomach.

“Want to help me clean this up?” he asks, looking down at his chest.

I do. I want to lick him clean and spit the cum into his mouth, then make out with him, his seed between our lips.

“I—I’m sorry,” is all I can say as I stand up and leave his room, slamming the door behind me.

Less than a minute later, I’m in the shower, letting the water wash away everything but my shame again. What is wrong with me? Why am I so attracted to my brother? My fucking brother!

I don’t know how long I spend in the shower. Long enough that the water goes cold and my fingers are pruney. I leave the bathroom and go my room to dress before I head out into the living room where I find Alex sitting on the couch, fully clothed, a bottle of tequila on the living room table. I sit beside him and, without asking, grab the bottle and take a swig.

“Look,” Alex says suddenly, turning his body toward me, “I’m sorry if you feel like I’m pressuring you to do things you don’t want to do. None of this was my intention when I came to live here. I—I know it’s wrong to feel this way, but I’m…” he trails off, then looks away. “I’m attracted to you. When we lived together at Mom and Dad’s, it wasn’t like this. Now, every time I see you, I want you so badly. And this back and forth thing you do where you’re into me, and then you’re not, is really confusing.”

I don’t say anything because my mind is reeling. He’s attracted to me, too, which I should have assumed, and it’s affecting him just as much as it’s affected me.

He turns to look at me again. “If you tell me, once and for all, that you don’t feel the same, we can stop all this. I won’t walk around naked—” he stops because my eyes snap to him on their own. I don’t want that. I love looking at him naked. I think he can see that in my expression. “—or we can keep doing that, but not the other…other stuff…” I take another swig so I don’t have to answer right away.

“I don’t know how to feel about this,” I say. “You’re my brother, even if it’s just stepbrother, but I—” I swallow hard, “—I’m attracted to you, too. It just feels so wrong and I don’t know how to get past that or if I even should. If it feels wrong, shouldn’t we stop?”

“I mean,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I kind of like how wrong it feels.”

Goddamn it. So do I.

“So why don’t we start small?” I ask him.

“Is what we did today starting small?”

“I think it was a good starting place,” I say, holding the bottle out to him. He takes it and chugs several mouthfuls before sitting it on the coffee table. Then he moves toward me and pulls me down onto the couch, me on my back, him along my side, his chest on my shoulder.

We have never cuddled before, but this feels so…right. The contours of his body fit perfectly inside of mine.

“Slow,” he says, then looks up into my eyes. “I can live with that.”