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English
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Published:
2019-09-16
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1/1
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No Role Modelz

Summary:

“You,” Oscar jabbed a finger in Cesar chest, making the teen wince with the force, “oughta be tripping over yourself saying sorry right now. Not pissin’ me off more, burro.”

“I’ve got nothing to apologize for.” Cesar clenched his jaw. “Prophets weren’t even there, it all woulda been fine if you weren’t so fuckin’ paranoid.”

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After Latrelle puts a target on Cesar's back, Oscar takes him and leaves Freeridge. But Cesar isn't keen on leaving things behind them.

Notes:

This is my first On My Block fic that I've posted so I hope you enjoy. Keep in mind this will contain the spanking of a minor.

Work Text:

“I already said no and I ain’t gonna say it again.” 

“Total bullshit…” Cesar muttered it without thinking and regretted the words when he saw the look that crossed Oscar’s face.

“Care to repeat that? My decision is bullshit to you?” Oscar took a menacing step towards Cesar, a move that would normally intimidate Cesar into apologizing and dropping the agrument, but he was either feeling brave or dumb because instead he stared Oscar down. 

“Yeah, it is. I don’t need you controlling shit like whether I can go back home to see my friends. I know how to watch out for myself. In case you’ve forgotten, I was doing it for years while you were gone.” Cesar had not handled being forced out of Freeridge too well. He knew it was for the best that they leave considering the target on his back from the Prophets. But that didn’t make hiding out in a city far away from his friends and old life any easier.

Oscar looked like Cesar had just spat in his face by bringing up his prison time. “In case you’ve forgotten, manito, I do control that shit. You ain’t grown. So when I say you ain’t going back there for some dumb little party, you ain’t going. Claro?”

Cesar felt like he was going to break a filling, he was clenching his teeth so damn hard. When he didn’t reply, Oscar reached out and cuffed him around the head. “I said, are we clear?”

“Yeah, we’re clear.” Cesar ground out the words. Oscar looked for a moment like he was gonna get on him about how disrespectful it sounded, but he dropped it, for the moment at least, letting Cesar walk away.



“Get the fuck inside.” Oscar offered Cesar a none-too-gentle shove into their crummy apartment, locking the door behind them after doing his habitual sweep of the hallway. After tracking Cesar’s phone to a party in Freeridge and having to pick him up, both Diaz brothers were furious with one another. 

Not for the first time, Cesar was pissed they were staying in a shitty studio. It would’ve been real satisfying to slam his bedroom door in Oscar’s face right then. Instead, he had to settle for angrily walking (not stomping, he wasn’t a child) over to his bed. He threw his backpack on the bed, removing his hoodie as well, tossing that closer to Oscar’s side of the room. Oscar liked to keep his space tidier, and a part of Cesar was very satisfied every time he made the smallest of messes on his brother’s half of the sleeping area. 

“Pick that up, you’re not in a fuckin’ barn,” Oscar ordered from where he stood by the front door, sliding the last of their excessive deadbolts into place. 

“Pick it up yourself, puto.” Cesar was seething, which he knew meant he should probably calm down before saying anything to the former Santo. Oscar had never been a big fan of getting lip from anyone, least of all his kid brother. 

“Excuse me?” Oscar turned slowly to face him, eyes flashing. 

Cesar resisted the urge to gulp, puffing his chest out instead and offering his own heated glare. “You heard me.”

His attempt at looking intimidating was undermined when he took a step back at his brother advancing forward.

“You,” Oscar jabbed a finger in Cesar chest, making the teen wince with the force, “oughta be tripping over yourself saying sorry right now. Not pissin’ me off more, burro.” 

“I’ve got nothing to apologize for.” Cesar clenched his jaw. “Prophets weren’t even there, it all woulda been fine if you weren’t so fuckin’ paranoid.” 

A sharp smack upside the head felt like it rattled Cesar’s brian. “You better watch yourself, mijo, I’m done with this shit from you. You gotta straighten the fuck up and start listenin’ to me.” Oscar’s voice had gotten dangerously low, sending a shiver down Cesar’s spine. 

Cesar was suddenly reminded of being nine years old and sneaking off to explore the old warehouses by Pimp Lane. Oscar had gotten tipped off by another member of the Santos that Cesar was there and the end result had been him unable to sit for several days. He wouldn’t do that now though. Oscar hadn’t whooped him like that since before he got locked up. Cesar was fourteen now, practically grown. 

But the way Oscar was eyeing him made him start to doubt that assumption. 

Doing some quick backtracking, Cesar raised his hands placatingly. “Look, I’ll pick it up.” 

He made a move to go and grab the hoodie, only to have his bicep seized before he could get more than an inch away. “Too late, compa, we gotta finish our little chat first.” Cesar felt himself being dragged over to his own bed, too stunned to really try and pull away. 

Oscar took a seat on the unmade bed, Cesar soon following, landing over the man’s knees. 

“Oscar, lemme up.” Cesar tried to keep his voice calm, not wanting to sound as freaked out as he felt. 

“No chance, Lil Spooky, you really earned this shit. I mean Jesus Christ, you sneak off on me and then have the cojones to mouth off at me?” Oscar shook his head, looking like he was pretty shocked by the kid. “Not gonna fly ‘round here. You coulda gotten a bullet in your head just because you decided to run off and play with your little friends.”

Cesar opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Oscar reaching under him and undoing his jeans. He was stunned for a moment as they were yanked down, the fight in him being reawakened when he felt the brush of air on the part of his thighs uncovered by his boxers. 

“Oscar! Knock it off!” Cesar was embarrassed to hear that his voice came out shriller than it should have. 

“You don’t tell me to knock it off.” Oscar’s hand landed for the first time on Cesar’s upturned ass. “We wouldn’t be doing this if you hadna been actin’ a fool.” 

Cesar bit down on his lip hard enough to taste blood, Oscar’s calloused hand making quick work of lighting a fire on him. He shifted around, causing Oscar to wrap a tight arm around his middle. 

“Come on, I’m sorry.” Cesar winced, trying to keep the whining tone out of his voice, knowing his brother never liked when he whined. “I’m too old for this shit now.”

Oscar scoffed, not even bothering to reply to that. Instead, he picked up the pace, eliciting a hiss from Cesar. 

“Don’t you ever pull this crap again. Coulda gotten yourself killed, manito.” If Cesar didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Oscar actually sounded choked up for a second. But that was ridiculous, Spooky doesn’t cry. 

Cesar felt a couple tears of his own slip out. He quickly wiped them away with the back of hand, burying his face in his bedsheets to prevent any future embarrassment and chance of looking like a pussy. 

He felt Oscar start to yank his boxers down, causing him to shoot his hand back to try and stop that from happening. “Don’t!” He kicked his legs, Oscar easily batting his hand away. Cesar wondered briefly if his brother had literally gone deaf because he was doing a good job of ignoring his promises and pleading. 

Cesar let out his first audible yelp when his brother started lighting up his bare ass. “Oscar, quit it! You made your point.” 

Oscar scoffed, Cesar could practically feel him rolling his eyes. “Clearly not well enough.” It felt like he picked up the pace and force, making Cesar groan. He really wished for a moment that his brother had never been in a gang, the years of fights and weight lifting had given him a strong right arm and it was currently being put to use setting his backside on fire. 

“I got it! No leaving the apartment! No Freeridge! No fun!” Cesar craned his head back, making a futile attempt to roll off of Oscar’s lap. 

Dios, you make it sound like you’re a prisoner. Is it really too much to ask that you don’t go where people are trying to put a bullet in you?” Oscar’s frustration was clear in both his voice and the growing heat Cesar was feeling on his ass, but there was also an undercurrent of worry and fear.

Cesar pressed his head against the cool bed sheets, tears wetting spots under his cheeks. “You’re right…” His voice cracked like he was twelve again. “I’m sorry, I shoulda listened.”

Oscar released his hold on Cesar’s waist, patting him a couple times on the back, the signal that it was alright to get up. 

Cesar quickly stood, fixing his clothes while Oscar looked away to give a semblance of privacy. He wiped off his face with the back of his hand, sniffling and attempting to quiet his heavy breathing. He didn’t need to look like some little kid who couldn’t take a few whacks, he’d had much worse before. 

Oscar scoffed when he saw Cesar trying to downplay the tears and act calm. Cesar looked affronted at the sound, squaring his shoulders and preparing to put as much space between him and his brother as he could. Before he could make his move to go the few feet to the other side of the room, Oscar reached out and tugged him forward. Immediately, Cesar tried to pull away, thinking he was in trouble once more and going back over his knee. But instead of being face down, he found himself sitting face up on Oscar’s lap, the man’s arms wrapped securely around him.  

Manito, I need your word you won’t pull this shit again.” Oscar’s voice sounded tight and scratchy, almost like he had been the one crying, which was ridiculous because it was Cesar who had the sore ass, not him. 

Even so, Oscar sounded desperate, and Cesar wasn’t interested in round two, so he nodded. “I won’t, I promise.” Oscar breathed out a sigh against the top of Cesar’s head. His hand, which Cesar was feeling a bit weary of, moved to stroke through Cesar’s hair. 

“You fuckin’ scared me today. I didn’t know where the hell you were, then you wouldn’t answer the phone. Thought someone got to you.” Oscar did sound scared, which made Cesar’s stomach twist with guilt. All Oscar had done this whole time was try to help him, and he’d treated him like shit today. 

“I’m sorry.” Cesar heard his own voice crack, flushing red. “I shouldn’t have left. And I should’ve answered when you called. I shouldn’t have been such a dick…” He trailed off, the tears returning, making it hard to speak.  

Oscar didn’t make him continue his apology, instead moving Cesar’s head so it was pressed against his chest. “I know. I know you are.” He dropped a kiss on the top of his little brother’s head, smoothing a hand down his back. “I love you, mano.”