The last rays of soft afternoon light pour through the cracked blinds, dancing patterns across Senjuro’s skin, as he flutters around the small apartment. Pillows and blankets are pulled from every nook and cranny possible before being dragged into the center of the living room. He’s been at this for hours, making snacks and slowly building a sturdy blanket fort. A quiet “ding!” from the kitchen lets him know the popcorn is done, and he rushes to quickly dump it in a bowl. A satisfied glance at the fort in the living room, TV placed delicately on one end, and the snacks lining the table, and Senjuro bustles down the hallway, quickly changing into more comfortable clothes. He decides on a loose shirt, and an old pair of shorts, that are much too small for him now, but they should be fine for a relaxing movie night.
A last minute thought has him grabbing his favorite movie from his small bookshelf before making his way back into the living room, just in time to hear the front door creak open. Flame colored locks poke around the door, before Kyoujurou comes into full view.
“Senjuro?” His brows knit tightly together, confusion painted across his features.
“Welcome home, Aniue!” Senjuro chirps to his older brother, excitement bubbling thick in his chest.
“What’s all this for?” The look of confusion never leaves his face as he glances from the living room, to the dining room, and back to his younger brother. Disappointment threatens to spill onto Senjuro’s features, but he wills the feeling away, figuring Kyoujurou was too swept away in his work to remember the important date.
“It’s been exactly one year since you adopted me.” A look of surprise, followed by guilt flashes across Kyoujurou’s eyes, before he quickly shucks off his shoes, stepped fully into the apartment.
“Oh, Senjuro you really didn’t have to do all of this! We could’ve gone out for a nice dinner!”
“I know!” He does. He knows he didn’t have to do anything like this. They could’ve gone to the movies and had dinner, but he also know that Kyoujurou didn’t have to adopt him. He was in no way obligated to pull him from the situation he was in, or to fight their father in a heated custody battle. So to say the least, setting up a comfortable movie night for his over worked elder brother really didn’t bother him too much. If anything, he wishes he could’ve done more.
“It’s the least I could do, Aniue! There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to show you how grateful I am for you.” An unreadable emotion passes across Kyoujuro’s gaze, but before he could question it, he’s being swept into a suffocating embrace. A loud squeal leaving his lips as his feet leave the ground.
“Oh my! What did I do to deserve such a considerate younger brother?!” A giggle leaves Senjuro’s lips, a dark flush coating his cheeks at the praise. Even after spending a year of living with his rather affectionate sibling, he’s still hasn’t grown used to the praises graced upon him. It’s a nice change of pace, to feel useful for once.
“Well, give me just a few minutes to shower and change. Then, we can watch some movies. Sound like a plan?” An eager nod is all the response Kyoujurou receives before he lowers Senjuro to the floor.
The time spent waiting is filled with Senjuro setting up the movie on their TV. He’s unsure whether he took an unusually long time to set everything up, or if Kyoujurou had just taken a rather fast shower. Either way, after what seem like only a few minutes, he’s entering the room once again, clad in only a loose pair of sweats. Shirtless. He’s shirtless.
“Aniue... Why are you shirtless?” A soft shrug from the older man has water droplets shaking loose from his damp hair to land on his exposed shoulders. Senjuro hakes his head but drops the discussion, figuring he was just more comfortable without a shirt. He gestures to the fort, watching in delight as Kyoujurou climbs in, inspecting the structure with awe. He quickly buzzes over to the table, gathering a bowl of popcorn and one of the many varieties of chips he had set out. Excitement runs through his veins as he makes his way back to the fort, greeted by the sight of Kyoujurou lounging on a pile of pillows, remote in hand. He hands the snacks to his brother before crawling into the structure himself.
There’s not much room, so he has no choice but to drape himself halfway on Kyoujurou’s side, not that either of them mind. A strong arm snakes it’s way around Senjuro’s waist, and he relaxes into the touch. It’s a bit too close for Senjuro to feel exactly comfortable, but he shakes the feeling away, it was just Kyoujurou after all.
As if on cue, the movie starts right after the thought leaves his mind, immediately beckoning his attention to the screen. No matter how many times he’s seen the movie, he can’t be help but to be captivated just from the first scene. The film is also a favorite of Kyoujurou’s, so it takes Senjuro by surprise when he feels the hand resting at his waist pull the fabric of his shirt higher up, exposing his side to the cool air. He brushes the movement off as an accident, convinces himself he was just getting more comfortable and happened to ruffle his shirt. He almost believes it, until he feels the warm skin of Kyoujurou’s fingers slip into the waistband of his shorts, lightly caressing the sensitive skin on his hip.
“Aniue?” The only response he gets is movement as he’s quickly tugged against the older man’s chest before being rolled onto his back. Kyoujurou looms above him, and Senjuro feels impossibly small beneath the very solid presence of his older brother. Everything stops as he struggles to process the sudden turn of events, but he’s only given a split second before Kyoujurou’s diving in, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. He’s too shocked to even comprehend what’s happening, much less reciprocate.
It’s too much, all at once, and when he feels warm hands grab his thighs in a vice-like grip, panic sets in. He squirms under the touch, pushing his hands against the warm skin of Kyoujurou’s flushed chest in protest. It seems to get through to his brother who pulls back, casting a confused glance down at the boy beneath him.
“W-what are you doing?” His voice comes out squeaky, gravelly, and barely audible. The question only seems to confuse the older man even more.
“My apologies, I guess I misunderstood when you said you’d do anything.” A pang of guilt pierces directly into Senjuro’s chest, squeezing his heart and refusing to let go.
“Well, I did, but I didn’t mean it this way.” The same unreadable expression flashes across Kyoujurou’s face before disappearing just as quick as it appeared.
“You really should be more specific. You don’t have to be worried, I’ll be gentle with you.” His cheeks heat up at the suggestion, and he feels the grip on his thighs get impossibly tighter before suddenly loosing. Guilt overtakes his mind, and he quickly grabs ahold of Kyoujurou’s shoulders, taking him by surprise.
“Promise you’ll be gentle?” A smile beams back at him in response, a nod is all the reassurance he needs before he spreads his thighs further apart, silently offering himself. The grip on his thighs return, sliding higher, until they make contact with the soft skin of his asscheeks.
“Besides, why were you wearing these shorts if your intention was not to seduce me?” All thoughts come to a screeching halt as he stares, wide-eyed at his older brother.
“That’s what I thought.” No, it’s wrong. That wasn’t his intention at all! Before he can express his concerns, Kyoujurou descends up on him again, capturing his lips in another kiss. Well, he did say he would do anything, and he can’t exactly go back on his word now could he? He relents, moving his lips in time with the ones pressed against him, which draws a surprised noise from Kyoujurou.
A small noise unwillingly leaves his lips when hands slip under the material of his shorts, making contact with the soft skin. A groan is released into his mouth before the grip on his ass is used to pull him flush against solid hips. The sweatpants do absolutely nothing to hide the erection Kyoujurou is sporting. A rough roll of his hips has the hardness pressing right against Senjuro’s sex, drawing a high whine from his lips.
“We shouldn’t do this.”
“Shh, it’s ok I’m gonna take good care of you.” A very confusing mix of anxiety and arousal twist through his abdomen, heat pooling in his stomach no matter how much he wills the feeling to go away. The removal of his shorts has the cold air ghosting over his core, the build up of slick making the air feel even colder.
“You’re so wet...” The observation is made while a hand slips down, a finger running across his lips, gathering the fluids. “You were going to deny me, but you want this just as bad as I do, don’t you?”
A rough shake of his head has a chuckle falling Kyoujurou’s lips before his hand slips down to pull the waistband of his sweats down just enough for his erection to spring loose. Senjuro’s eyes widen at the sight. There’s no way that could fit inside of him. Panic spreads through his body when the tip makes contact with his lips.
“No. No I can’t.” He begins to squirm away from the contact, which draws a frustrated grunt from Kyoujurou. A harsh grip is placed on his hips, successfully holding him in place.
“You can, and you will.” It’s the only warning he receives before the head is pushing past his lips, resting heavy against his core. Then, pain. So much pain that he swears he’s being torn apart from the inside out. White blossoms across his vision, a wail leaving his lips at the sensation.
“It- Ah!- It hurts! Take it out!” His pleas are ignored in favor of the length sinking in deeper. A rough snap has Kyoujurou’s firm hips resting against his ass. Pain thrums through his body, lighting his nerves on fire and vibrating under his skin. It’s too much all once, everything so overwhelming in a way he would’ve never thought possible. Every part of his brain rejects the pleasure that begins to blossom underneath the dull ache in his core.
A rough tug against the skin of his nipples has his back arching away from the blankets, a desperate noise leaving his lips. No, this was wrong. He’s in so much pain and yet he can’t hold back the noises being pulled from him with every slight shift of hips and harsh pressure against his nipples. “Please.”
He’s unsure what he’s begging for, but it seems to strike something in Kyoujurou, if the twitch his dick gave was anything to go off of. The small movement of his hips begin to speed up until he’s pounding into Senjuro in earnest, his hands never leaving the sensitive buds. “Can you come like this?”
No, he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want any of this, much less to get off on it. He tries to tell him as much, but the only thing that leaves his open mouth are incoherent pleas and whines. A hand leaves one of his nipples, and he involuntarily whines at the loss of contact despite himself. The lessened contact gives him a second to gather his thoughts, but all of it proves itself to be for naught once the hand is placed on his hip instead. With a grip strong enough to bruise, Kyoujurou pulls him up, changing the angle in a way that causes him to slip so deep, hitting a spot inside of Senjuro that has white bursting across his vision.
With every movement he swears he can feel Kyoujurou hitting his stomach. The noises bouncing through the room barely register in his mind as his own, and a particularly rough thrust has his back bending in a way that’s borderline painful.
“A-Aniue!” The pace only picks up, becoming unbearably brutal on his tiny frame.
“Come for me.” The tone of voice should not have his toes curling or the muscles in his stomach trembling, but he can’t stop everything in his body from tightening until he’s on the verge of breaking.
“No, no, no, no!” Tears run from his eyes, hot and thick as his traitorous body gives into the first wave of his orgasm. It hits him like a ton of brick, washes over him with a loud sob. Disgusting he’s disgusting.
It’s only a few more erratic thrust before Kyoujurou is spilling himself inside of Senjuro, a loud groan leaving his lips as he rides out his own orgasm. The feeling of being filled does nothing to help Senjuro’s state of disgust. Everything around him begins to shatter, the tears falling at a more consistent rate, his limbs going limp as Kyoujurou rolls to lie beside him.
It’s so wrong. The reality of their actions cause guilt to coil in Senjuro’s chest, settling against his lungs in a way that makes it difficult to breathe. He should’ve stood his ground and told Kyoujurou no, but instead he gave in, and even enjoyed himself. He really was the family failure.
At least he wasn’t being beaten at the hands of his father. Maybe, he should be grateful that Kyoujurou would never hit him. After all, his Aniue was the kindest person he knew, and at least this way he can be useful to him.