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The Trials and Tribulations of Bro Strider's Insomnia

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John always made little snuffling sounds when he slept.

Bro the insomniac couldn't help but lay there on his stomach, face resting in his hands; and watch him. The young man's cheek was resting on one of his deceptively chubby biceps, squishing his face. His incredibly dark, thick lashes laid against his cheeks, twitching when his eyelids did in whatever dream he was having. Once and a while he'd let out a little snort as he shifted slightly, and every single time there was a part of Bro that wanted him to wake up. Being alone in a dark room with absolutely nothing to do was torture.

He could hear Dave's boxspring creaking in the other room, still. Bro glanced over at the clock – 3:21 AM. No doubt another of his brother and little cousin's attempts to outlast each other.

Fuck that shit.

In a moment of almost childish neediness, Bro scooched closer to the furnace that was John, draping an arm over his stomach and burying his face deeply into his neck before sighing heavily. John was soft. He smelled good.

He was a fantastic pillow when you were tired.

Bro wasn't.

He could hear muffled grunting from the other room now; and his brain helpfully informed him that was Dave, as he knew for a fact Dirk was dead-fish silent.

He 'helpfully informed' his brain that it could shut the fuck up, actually, because none of that was knowledge he wanted to remember having.

It was obvious they thought he was asleep when there was a rather unmuffled cry. He gritted his teeth in annoyance. Great. Fucking fantastic.

A mostly-still-asleep John swatted him in the face with a heavy hand, Bro realized he must be digging his sharp chin into Egbert's neck. “Mm?” Too late. John's huge blue eyes fluttered open, and he stuck his lip out at Bro as he rubbed his eyes with balled up fists, like a little kid would.

“Hi...” his voice was thick and foggy with sleep. Bro kissed his temple, and it made his chest all full of weird fuzzy things when he saw John was smiling slightly. Goddamn he was cute when half asleep.

“Hey, sugar.”

“Mn. You're cold.”

“S'mostly that you're hot, but okay.”

“Nope.” John's smile widened, his eyes closing tiredly. “Yoooou're hot.”

Bro snorted.

The headboard in the other room started thumping against the wall.

As he rubbed his eyes again, John began to giggle. At first it was soft and breathy, but soon he had to shove his face in the pillow so Dave and Dirk wouldn't hear him laughing.

Bro did an exaggerated, angry deadpan and pitched his voice to a rather unflattering impression of his brother. “Such a considerate guy, Egbert; going out of your way not to kill your best bro's boner. Said triple b is making a triple play for the home run, you know. The big man's going to make a touchdown.”

John positively howled into the pillow, trying desperately to keep quiet. Bro couldn't help a snicker himself, mostly at how amused John was. He definitely had one of those laughs that was contagious. The thumping suddenly stopped.

Then it started twice as hard.

“Competitive little shits,” Bro grunted, and John lifted his head, wiping tears of hilarity from his eyes. The innocent schoolboy smile had turned into a truly devilish grin that made something down below go ping.

His dick. It was his dick.

“... we can definitely win this time.” John said it in a very conversational tone, casting a sidelong glance at the wall.

“Hn.” Bro smirked. “It's not like he can ever get Spock to make any noise. If the use of furniture was ruled as cheating, they'd stand no fucking chance.”

The last word had barely cleared his mouth before John jumped him. He was a hell of an enthusiastic kisser, which kind of made up for how terrible he was at it – all huge teeth and drool. Bro sat up properly, John following him like a calf on a teat. Just as planned. The Strider wrapped his arms around to grab a double handful of the sweetest, plushest rump he'd ever squeezed, and dragged the boy right into his lap.

John made a little pleased noise when he suddenly found himself in is favourite seat. He wiped the spit off his mouth and ground that perfect specimen right down on Bro's half hard cock. He let out a soft groan, playing it up for the sake of the competition. John wiggled happily in his lap, his baby soft hair tickling Bro's cheek. Never mind much foreplay, they both knew they had to catch up with the incest twins there in the other room.

Bro flipped John easily back onto the bed, and the mattress creaked. “Ready to be loud?” He said under his breath, stretching his arm out for the lube he kept in easy reach.

“Gonna wake up the neighbourhood.” The idiot wiggled his butt, which made Bro crack a grin.

Though Bro might have a pretty big dick, John could more than take it. One night when they were a little tipsy, Egbert had let slip that he'd been sticking fingers up his butt since the dawn of puberty, and Bro had been anything but surprised.

John was right in there as soon as there was lube on Bro's hand, sneaking down past his own hard cock to steal some of the slick stuff. “Fuck's sake, could you be any more impatient?” he said, watching with bemusement as John pressed a finger into himself.

“Not my fault you're such a slowpoke.” John teased, his gasp becoming a yelp as Bro's thicker index finger joined in. As always, Bro could tell from his excited grimace that he enjoyed the stretching burn almost as much as the pleasure that came after.

“Not my fault you're such a cockhungry little sack of shit,” Bro said with a smile, not one to take John's mocking without returning a playful barb of his own.

“But I'm your cockhungry little sack of shit! That counts for someth-aaahh!” John couldn't finish, and Bro smirked as he ground his finger right against the boy's prostate. Egbert's own finger was thrusting next to his almost still one, and the combination was making John a squirming mess already.

“I've never seen a guy who likes stuff up his butt as much as you do.”

John's only reply was a moan fit to wake the dead. The thumping against the wall was loud as hell, and he had to admit the rhythm was impressive, but without vocalization from the opposing team they were a shoo in. He could never lose this kind of contest with John as a teammate.

“Dick. Give me dick,” John gasped, pulling his finger out to make way for the master sword.

“Never say I don't grant your every wish.” Bro got himself to full mast in a few strokes, coating his dick with what was left on his hand.

“There better not be a condom on there.” John griped, pouting at him in the dark. “If there's a condom I'll be mad.”

“Then you better get ready to not be mad, princess.”

“I give, I give!” Dave shouted from the other side of the wall. “You win!”

“Your sex talk is fuckin' awful!” Incest twin number two.

Bro's smirk widened to show teeth, but the cry for mercy was not enough to make him stop. Far from it. In fact...

“If you do the victory dance I am revoking your privileges to my butthole.”

Yeah. Okay. Well, that didn't leave much room for argument.

Bro substituted his victory dance for a little hide the katana in the sheath. John was too busy moaning his name to complain about it.