Work Header


Work Text:

Looking around the messy pile of bodies thrown around their living room, Jiro shook his head and dropped his coat over the back of a chair on his way towards the tangled mess of limbs, chuckling fondly to himself. He wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or what, but seeing his brothers sprawled all over each other while they snored was a damn funny sight and Jiro found the hilarity somewhat comforting, at the very least. It had been over six months since their mother passed away, and he was pretty sure that he wasn’t the only one who was still nursing the pain of losing their pillar of strength, and he guessed that seeing his brothers huddled against each other and sleeping so close together like this, even though they were drunk out of their minds had to be one of the finest sights he’d came home to in months.

He almost tripped into a pair of purple slippers, Goro’s, toeing them aside as he crouched down to grab their oldest brother’s black shirt (his favorite, the one with huge FM Yokohama letters printed on it), folding it before placing it next to a discarded ripped-on-the-knees blue jeans (which was probably Goro’s or Saburo’s, he wasn’t sure), smiling fondly to himself when his eyes darted to the four of them again.

There were empty bottles of beer scattered all around the living room, on top of the center table, and even on the couch itself. There were also bottles of half-emptied sake next to Ichiro-nii’s head, and he had to move quickly and grabbed it, putting it to safety before any of them accidentally toss it aside.

Once done with the task, Jiro flopped himself on the couch and sighed to himself, watching his brothers one by one.

Saburo had his long arms wrapped around Goro’s waist from behind, his face buried against their youngest brother’s shoulder; Goro on the other hand, had one of his arms stretched sideways, and Ichiro-nii’s head was pillowed on it. Their oldest brother had one of his own thrown over his face and the other he had been lending to Shiro, and Shiro was using it also as his own pillow. Shiro was lying on his side, his face buried on their oldest brother’s neck, arms wrapped around Ichiro-nii’s waist tightly enough to hurt.

Jiro chuckled again and was reminded of the many times Shiro did the same thing to him, but never when Shiro was drunk and the end result was never –

“You’re late to the party, Niichan,” Shiro purred against their brother’s chest, almost giving Jiro the heart attack in shock; Jiro squeaked, surprised, and was seconds from deciding either to kick his brother on the head for always doing this to him or whether to leave them be in favor of stalking straight into his own bedroom. Shiro popped an eye open, shifting a little and therefore letting go of his hold around their oldest brother’s waist. Jiro watched as Ichiro-nii moved to his side, murmuring something incoherently as he nuzzled Goro’s hair before falling completely still.

His heart still somewhat throbbing hard against his chest, he cringed, realizing that Shiro was now rolling over on his other side and was quickly up on all fours and crawling his way to where Jiro was, eyes lidded with sleep and alcohol. Small fingers found their way to Jiro’s foot and Jiro found himself crouching down to pull his younger brother up, steadying him with both hands gripping Shiro’s arms.

“You should sleep,” he murmured, eyes trained on his brother’s face as Shiro struggled to keep himself upright; it was late and Jiro was tired, and he’d only thought of staying here to watch his brothers for a few minutes before he hit his own bed but –

“I’m not sleepy,” came Shiro’s slurry response, settling himself on Jiro’s lap and worming his arms around Jiro’s neck; Shiro was warm, too warm, and his familiar weight on Jiro’s legs was a comforting reassurance that no matter what happened, they have this, that they have each other.

Jiro chuckled against his brother’s hair, let his hand traveled to the small of his brother’s back as Shiro shifted more comfortably over his lap. He could feel his brother’s breathe against his neck, warm and tickling, his brother’s body was soft and familiar against his hold. “Yes you are,” he whispered, then, “sleepy and drunk; you should go back to sleep.”

Shiro purred, all husky voice and teasing half-smile; Jiro could feel his brother’s damp lips against the side of his neck, and quietly wished Shiro would stop doing that. “Don’t want to,” Shiro muttered, stubbornly refusing to let go even with Jiro’s hand pushing him off his lap.

“Shiro-chan,” Jiro mumbled, exasperated but fond, and regretting uttering his brother’s name like that when Shiro simply hummed and barked out a laugh into his neck, sending jets of desire shooting down Jiro’s spine.

It always started like this and frankly, Jiro realized he had stopped minding a very long time ago just as long as Shiro was curled inside his arms like this – like there was nothing that could ever make sense in his world aside from the fact that he wanted his brother as much as his brother wanted him.

“I was waiting for you,” Shiro whispered, his small fingers crawling underneath Jiro’s shirt, tracing Jiro’s skin like he’d done a thousand times; Jiro gasped, tried squirming away from Shiro’s intruding fingers, eyes wide as he gazed down at the sprawled bodies of their brothers on their living room floor.

“Shiro-chan, p-please,” Jiro complained, but it sounded weak even in his own ears; Shiro laughed again – high-pitched giggles coming from the back of his throat as he started swaying his hips back and forth, thus making Jiro moan despite himself. “I-If… I-If this is what you want then, isn’t it better if we go to my room or yours?”

Shiro shook his head, letting out whining sounds and pinching Jiro’s hips. “No, Niichan,” he said, rolling his hips once and hitting Jiro’s stomach with his erection; Jiro grabbed Shiro’s hips tightly, hoping that would stop his brother from further moving but Shiro was nothing but stubborn, reaching between them to squeeze Jiro through his pants before grabbing him firmly.


“Shhh,” Shiro mumbled cautiously, biting at Jiro’s chin and stilling his hand. “Be quiet or you won’t be able to do what I would want you to do,”

Jiro shuddered, the sound of Shiro’s voice was doing things to him he didn’t even know how to control.

“W-Wha - ?”

“Fuck me here, Niichan,” Shiro sing-songed as he pulled back enough to look Jiro in the eyes, fingers slipping inside the waistband of Jiro’s pants expertly. “I want you to fuck me here, in this couch, right now,”

Jiro couldn’t seem to focus his eyes but his brother’s request was enough to wake his dozing brain cells up.

“W-What?!” he asked, but the word came out just like a hiss and he was sure he looked as freaked out as he felt. Shiro grinned and pecked him on the lips, like he was simply requesting Jiro for a massage instead.



Jiro stared at his brother, feeling suddenly incredulous with his eyes so wide and his mouth gaping open in a way he knew made him look like a complete moron. Well, that really couldn’t be helped when it’s past midnight, and his stupid drunken brother was sprawled on top of him and requesting to be fucked like he was simply asking Jiro for a piggyback ride.

“S-Shiro-chan –“ he mumbled, still mostly through his brother’s mouth and Shiro hummed, breath warm and damp against Jiro’s own and making every nerve in Jiro’s body tingle with desire, and it didn’t help that Shiro was rocking his hips back and forth against Jiro’s own, his erection bumping against Jiro’s belly at every goddamn movement.

Shiro shifted on top of Jiro’s lap, neck arching in obvious invitation and Jiro’s eyes following the movement of Shiro’s Adams apple; Shiro bit his lips and walked his fingers down, from where they were previously combing through his older brother’s hair and further still, tracing each bump and rise along Jiro’s spine as he licked his older brother’s lips.

Jiro’s reduced to moaning his response quietly through Shiro’s mouth when Shiro shifted a bit to press himself firmly against Jiro, lips opened wide as he mashed their mouths together at the same time; the kiss was wet and almost dirty, but they’ve been doing this long enough to know that it’s exactly how Jiro wanted it.

By the time Shiro allowed him to resurface, enough to get air back into his lungs, Jiro realized that his brother had successfully tugged his zipper down without him even noticing, and Shiro’s left hand was reaching down to cup him firmly through his boxers. He moaned, raw and hurried and breathless as Shiro all but teased the head of his erection by running his thumb over it while Shiro squeezed him lightly.

Shiro then slowly crawled down Jiro’s body, pressing tiny kisses to every patch of skin bared to him and Jiro simply leaned back, feeling his anticipation building up like wild fire around his thighs as Shiro made no attempt to act all subtle by pushing Jiro’s undershirt up and taking Jiro’s erection out at the same time.

There were times when Jiro would not even think twice about going straight into fucking his younger brother to oblivion, but as his gaze went past his brother’s head and onto their brothers’ sleeping form spread all over their living room floor, Jiro couldn’t help but stop himself short of doing exactly that, enough to push his brother slightly off of him.

“Shiro-chan, we can’t –“ he hissed through mostly gritted teeth, willing himself not to shudder at the sensation of his brother’s small hand gripping the base of his cock tight enough to hurt, before the same hand pumped him nice and slow. Shiro was looking up at him with determination set at the line of his mouth, but his gaze was obviously telling him something entirely else as Shiro leaned down to sample a lick over the head of Jiro’s cock.

Without looking up and his hand still wrapped around Jiro’s throbbing erection, Jiro could swear his brother had murmured ‘please, Niichan’ under his breath, his thumb brushing soft touches against the underside of Jiro’s length.

Jiro suddenly remembered those times he caught his younger brother camping behind their house, crying quietly while he treated the bruises he said he got from playing with Saburo (which Jiro later on realized would be from those kids who had been bullying Shiro since he was six); Shiro used the same tone, the same pitiful sound Jiro swore he’d do anything just so he wouldn’t have to hear slip out of his brother’s mouth ever again, and yet --

He reached over and stroked his brother’s jaw, thumbing the corners of Shiro’s mouth and nudging him to raise his head so he could stare into his brother’s eyes. “W-What do you want, Shiro-chan?” he asked in a tone he reserved only for Shiro and Shiro alone.

Shiro looked up, finally, the cloud in his eyes gone in the briefest second as he caught Jiro’s hand in his and placed it across his cheek.

“Let me suck you first, Niichan,” Shiro murmured, eyes half-closed and lips parting like a budding flower, making his brother temporarily lose his ability to think straight when he opened his mouth wide enough to slip Jiro’s middle finger in and sucked on it hard before he let go. “That okay?” he followed still with uncertainty and Jiro found himself nodding his response before he even realized it.

“Thank you, Niichan,” Shiro mumbled gratefully, stroking Jiro’s hard cock once, twice, before lowering his mouth over it with a hum, and the vibration of his voice sending jets of desire shooting through Jiro’s spine.




 “God,” Jiro gritted but had otherwise resigned to slumping back on the couch, praying to whoever (although, come to think of it, there hopefully weren’t anyone) was watching over them to make sure their brothers were all sleeping like the dead, because however smart Shiro thought his older brother was, there was no way Jiro would ever be able to come up with an excuse as to why he was without his pants and Shiro was kneeling between his legs sucking his cock.

“Do you want me to continue or you wanna --?” Shiro asked and paused, licking his lower lip and looking up at Jiro with his eyes so innocent it should be illegal; he then lowered his head, smirking like the brat his brothers known him to be, before sinking his mouth over his older brother’s cock and sucking the head hard enough that it made Jiro choke on absolutely nothing as he stared down, watching his brother bobbed his head up and down his cock in amazement.

 “G-God, S-Shiro-chan, so good,” Jiro chanted deliriously, cursing to himself when he remembered he’d have to keep his mouth shut, eyes wandering around for a bit to check if any of their brothers had heard him moan like a fucking porn star; luckily enough, their brothers must have been really drunk out of their minds to be woken up,  fingers gripping his  younger brother’s ears and urging him on by constantly brushing Shiro’s chin and lower lip, feeling the overwhelming surge of pride as he watched his cock disappear in between his brother’s lips. He could feel the way Shiro’s mouth moved beneath his palm, could feel the way Shiro’s fighting his gag reflex enough to bring Jiro further deep in his throat and humming continuously in response to every stroke of Jiro’s fingers across his chin.

It’s sort of beautiful, the way his younger brother looked right now, with his mouth parted almost too wide to be comfortable and beads of sticky saliva dripping at the corners of his mouth that he didn’t even bother wiping because he didn’t want to let go of Jiro’s cock just yet. Jiro reached out to stroke his brother’s cheek, swallowing thickly as Shiro had once again angled his head a little to the left and letting Jiro’s cock slipped all the way inside. It felt wholly amazing and Jiro didn’t know he had such unbelievable stamina to last this long when he’d always been teased as someone who lacked it.

“Ahh,” he muffled his moan against the sleeve of his shirt when Shiro pulled back just far enough to keep the head of Jiro’s cock in his mouth, sucking it roughly, almost noisily before Shiro pulled away completely. Jiro vainly tried to follow the sudden lost of warmth, but Shiro stopped him with a firm shake of his head and a strong grip on his elbow. “S-Shiro-chan, please?” he begged, and it occurred to him that right now, their brothers could wake up and could very well catch them in the act and Jiro wouldn’t even give a flying fuck unless Shiro –

“You want to come, right?” Shiro asked sweetly, making a quick work on removing his sweatpants along with his boxers, pulling it down and kicking them all the way off, leaving his shirt on. He turned around and wriggled his ass playfully before he faced his older brother, shoving two fingers into his mouth and throwing his leg up on the couch, bracing himself up on the other and slipping the said fingers inside his entrance without even blinking. He twisted his own fingers inside him and Jiro could only watch, dazed and turned on to the point of pain as Shiro finger-fucked himself while he rolled his hips.

“Shiro-chan,” Jiro found himself whispering, reaching out with one hand while the other he kept wrapped around himself, stroking himself softly and moaning. “-please?”

Shiro grinned and pulled his fingers out, before adding another one. “Sure,” he answered, hissing and closing his eyes at the same time. “But you have to work for it,” he said around a breathy moan, pulling his fingers out and  going limp and letting his brother tug him back to his lap without putting up a fight.

“You’re a tease and a brat rolled into one,” Jiro mumbled against Shiro’s neck, biting Shiro’s throat as he shifted to rearrange his brother’s position, still nuzzling at Shiro’s collarbones. Shiro helpfully kneeled up, legs spread in between Jiro’s own, neck thrown aback as he wrapped his arms around Jiro’s shoulders.

“Niichan, hurry up,” Shiro moaned, burying his face against Jiro’s hair and muffling his moans against his older brother’s neck when Jiro quickly thrust upwards, filling his brother’s ass in one swift motion.

“Shit,” Jiro moaned right back, stilling for a brief second before Shiro impatiently wriggled his hips and goading Jiro on by breathing his words against Jiro’s ear, wet and insistent. Jiro closed his eyes for a moment, bit his lips as he gripped Shiro by the hips and settled in for this particular position.

“N-Nii –“ Shiro moaned but was immediately cut off when Jiro all but lifted his brother off his lap before dropping him back down, all the muscles in his body singing with pleasure at the impact; Shiro’s clinging to him like he was his only lifeline, his mouth’s parted wide, wheezing against Jiro’s neck as Jiro repeated the action, the next thrust’s harder than the last.

“A-Almost there, Shiro-chan,” Jiro hissed through clenched teeth, cursing, jerking his hips and gripping Shiro’s hips tight enough to leave bruises and absently biting Shiro’s ear as Shiro clung unto him tightly, one hand moving to grab one of Jiro’s own and settling it over his own throbbing cock. Jiro’s bucking his hips even harder now, jerking forward and hitting that spot inside his brother’s body that had taken them months to find, and Shiro cried his release between both their hands without a warning. Jiro continued fucking his brother through his orgasm, seeing nothing in front of him as he quickened his thrusts, letting himself go at the end of the last thrust, shoving himself further deep into his brother’s ass and shooting his pleasure inside Shiro’s body with a mindless groan.


“I can’t believe I let you talk me into doing this here,” he mumbled through his brother’s sweat-soaked hair, stroking his younger brother’s back while Shiro opted on nuzzling Jiro’s neck, purring wordlessly. At least he was able to slip his jeans back on, pocketing his underwear and ignoring Shiro’s elegant eyeroll when he handed his younger brother his sweatpants without a word; Shiro forego the underwear as well, hastily slipped his sweatpants on before throwing himself back on top of Jiro’s lap. Jiro sighed, dropped a kiss on top of his brother’s head. “To think that any of them could wake up and catch us –“

“You liked it too,” Shiro muttered right back, cutting Jiro off,  his tone sounded too smug that it didn’t even required seeing his face to know that he’s grinning so smugly against Jiro’s neck, his small fingers trailing their way down Jiro’s bare arms.

Jiro chuckled. “Never said anything about not liking it,” he breathed right back, moving a little to accommodate Shiro’s skinny form as Shiro shifted above him, un-burrowing his face from Jiro’s neck to placing small kisses all over Jiro’s chest. “It’s just that, hey!” Jiro hissed, confused, feeling Shiro’s legs wrapping around his waist tightly before Shiro’s mouth found his again, kissing him quiet before he could even let another word out.

When Shiro pulled back, he was licking his lips and staring up at Jiro with the probably the most devious look on his face, reaching down to roll his palm over Jiro’s crotch and grinning.

“Shiro-chan, I am not letting you –“

Shiro leaned up and kissed the tips of Jiro’s nose. “Let me what? Ask you for another round?” Shiro bit back with a chuckle. “ – ‘course I can; but not here. Bed. Take me to bed and fuck me there, nice and slow and –“