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Chained To The Earth

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Dick is lying in bed, even though it's like 2 pm, 'cause it's Sunday and he has this killer hangover. Not his fault. Ran into Madison at a party and she wouldn't put out; then that fucking cunt Betina got all pissy like she mattered or something. No-one could blame him for being driven driven to drink after that.


Eyes closed, he vaguely hears the plod of the Beav's footsteps. He doesn't open his eyes. “Get the fuck out, Beav,” he says, not really caring if his little brother does or not. It's just Beav. Dick thinks his little brother is saying something, but he can't be fucked getting through the buzz of the hangover to figure it out. So he lies there a little, and doesn't respond. Then he realizes that his wrists are being carrying, his arms dragged up to the headboard. Confused, he opens his eyes.


He notices Beaver now has his left hand pressed against the headboard, and is wrapping a length of rope around it. Dick noncommittally jerks his hand away, but Beaver holds it there by pulling on the rope. “Dude,” Dick starts. “What the fuck are you doing?”


Beaver chuckles and the sound is... dark. “Come on, Dickie. You only get hangovers like this for special occasions; why should I waste the opportunity?”


Dick blinks a few times, still not really comprehending what's going on. Pissed now, he tries to get his hand away with more determined. But he's hungover and his reflexes suck, so Cassidy responds by kneeling on Dick's arm and putting his entire weight on it.


“Ow! Fuck it! You trying to break something?” Dick asks, still struggling under Cassidy's weight. The younger boy shrugs.


“Doesn't matter. Probably be useful right now, really,” Beaver says flippantly, and Dick notices something in the shape of the weight on him – the Beav is hard. Dick starts to put together what's happening. Shit.


“Oh, no, no fucking way!” he says as Beaver finishes tying the first knot, using his free hand to aim a punch. However, he's still hung over so it's horribly misaimed; Beaver just grabs the wrist and drags it to the other side of the bedspread. Dick struggles, but Beaver's got him secured in no time and is now lying on top of him, hard-on pressed against Dick. Irritatingly, Dick feels his own cock perking up at the sensation of Beaver on top of him. Traitor, Dick thinks.


“So... what are we going to do now?” Beaver asks with a smirk, and Dick weakly tries to kick him away.


“Get the fuck off me, cocksucker!” he says, trying to beat down the fact he's getting harder and harder, because Beaver is shifting against him and the friction is... well, whatever.


The younger brother laughs, and leans down, menacing. “That instruction and that verb are, well, contradictory. Do you know what 'contradictory' means?” Dick doesn't really care what it means, because he can feel Beaver's hot, wet breath on his neck and he knows what Beaver just implied he would do. It occurs to Dick that this is for real. Then Beaver is licking a path over his older brother's collarbone, not having to bother with Dick's clothing because Dick never sleeps in anything but his boxers, and the older brother has to bite back a moan.


“Dude,” he says, trying to ignore how hard he is and how Beaver's tongue feels against his neck. “I said no way.”


“Do I look like a care?” asks Beaver, and Dick doesn't really have a reply for that.


Beaver moves his moth up to Dick's, pressing lips together and demanding a kiss. Dick doesn't really want to give in, but Beaver is biting at his bottom lip and its' both hot, and it hurts, so Dick opens his mouth and meets Beaver's tongue. The kiss is hard and violent and brutal; teeth clashing and Beaver getting his tongue everywhere he can. Dick can't help it, so he's kissing back and warring with Beaver for dominance. He's hungover and tied up, so Beaver's winning pretty easily, but Dick will not give in without a fight.


When the boys remember they still need to breathe, Beaver breaks the kiss. “Well,” he says; panting and looking thoroughly debauched. “Someone overcame his reservations.”


Dick shrugs uncomfortably. “Well, I don't know if you've noticed, but you have kind of tied me to the bed down here. I'm not exactly overflowing in the choices department,” he says lightly, choosing not to think about his little brother's previous words: Do I look like I care?


Beaver smirks, and Dick soon realizes a hand is worming it's way into his boxers. “Well, I've got a feeling you'd appreciate the work anyway,” he says, lightly running his palm along Dick's cock and it's all Dick can do not to moan. He thrusts up shallowly, and then Beaver is sliding downward, pulling the boxers down and leaving Dick completely naked.


Beaver takes Dick in his mouth quickly, running his tongue over the head and sucking firmly. Dick moans and wrenches himself as far from the headboard as the ropes will allow, trying to get himself deeper in his little brother's mouth. Beaver takes that as cue to suck harder, taking Dick in all the way to the back of his throat. Dick can't help it and is now eagerly fucking Beaver's mouth; something that usually pisses chicks of, but the Beav is eagerly accepting it. Dick is moaning steadily now; somewhere in the back of his mind acknowledging that he really shouldn't be letting the Beav hear how ggod he is, but Dick doesn't really care.


Beaver speeds and and drives his fingernails into Dick's hips, trying to press him down and keep him steady. Dick is writhing now because he's so close; he feel the painful burn of the ropes and sees the pink-red marks growing. But he can't stop himself moving and Beaver's mouth feels so good; he can deal with the ropes and Beaver's tongue is flickering on the head again, he's sucking as hard as he can and Dick is thrusting despite Beaver pushing him down and oh god yeah just there and-


Dick comes hard into his little brother's mouth, bucking up and crying out something unintelligible. Beaver swallows, then his mouth is off Dick's cock and he's crawling his way back up his brother's body.


“Jesus, Dick,” he says. “I think you might have broken my throat.”


“Whatever, slut,” Dick says, a little bit of a grin in his voice for the aftermath of the orgasm. “You weren't really complaining.”


“Hard to talk with my mouth full of cock, but true, if I had a problem I wouldn't have to stay there,” Beaver admits, and Dick shudders a little at the memory. He's still tied to the headboard, and now he's not all caught up in the fucking, that burn on his wrists is fucking killing him.


“Dude, you mind cutting me loose? This rope is fucking evil; what's it made out of anyway – razor blade power?”


Beaver laughs and draws a hand up to Dick's right wrist, tied to the bed. He pulls the rope away to inspect the pink marking left, then lets it snap back. Dick hisses in pain. “Actually, I kind of prefer you like this. All chained and needy and helpless...” he says, his hand traveling down Dick's stomach. The blond brother lets out a whining noise.


“Dude, it's not like, I'm going to run away now. It hurts, you asshole; just untie me already.”


Beaver shakes his head, again wearing the smirk – bastard – and then reaches for something on the floor. When he pulls back up, Dick realizes it's a bottle of lube. Shit, he thinks when he realizes that the Beav really does want to just fuck him.


“Hey, I am not bottoming,” he protests, and Beaver snorts.


“Like you have a choice?” he asks, letting the lube lie on the bed for a few moments while he undoes his jeans and pulls them off, also ripping off his shirt. He positions himself on top of Dick again, kneeling on knee on either slide. He spreads Dick's legs, despite the older brother kicking back weakly.


“Fuck you, asshole. You don't do this to me.”


“Because this whole experience so far has been so like we normally are?” Beaver asks, and Dick feels nervous. With the blow-job he could rationalize the whole “not fucking queer” problem away, as a dude's mouth was going to be pretty much the same as a chick's – it seems the same. However, with this... it's kinda different.


Then he remembers he is still tied up and still hungover as fuck and yeah, Beaver was right, he doesn't really have a choice. So he lies back and waits for his little brother, looking petulant. The Beav is slicking himself up, then coating a few of his fingers. Dick bites his lip and finds he's half-hard again.


Beaver slides a finger into him easily and Dick moans. It feels kind of weird, but the good kind of weird. He whimpers a little; then Beaver starts moving the finger and it's fucking amazing. Dick bites his bottom lip to suppress the moan for a little; 'cause it's okay to give in but not to give in so quickly. Beav's wriggling his finger faster now, just to torture Dick surely, and Dick is really trying hard not to thrust back. Then Beaver's sliding in a second one and, well, so much for that plan.


Beaver's got thin, fast fingers inside Dick; who is writhing (wincing a little from the rope burn) and desperate for more. Beaver grins. “That's it, Dick. Fuck yourself on my hand, slut.”


Dick closes his eyes tight and just fuck. He's not sure why Beaver calling him a slut is hot, but coupled with the fact Beav's fingers are doing things Dick wasn't even all that sure could be done, he's pretty eager by now. Beaver adds the third finger and Dick moans; thrusting back hard and not giving a fuck about the fact his wrists are killing him.


Then Beaver stills his hand, despite Dick's protesting whimpering. “What do you want, Dick?” Beaver asks, smug, and Dick realizes how fully he's given in. Well, fuck it.


Beaver flicks his fingers for a second and Dick moans, annoyed and horny beyond all reason. Beaver pulls his fingers out, and Dick looks away. “I want you to fuck me, okay?” he says, feeling the Beav smirking. When did his little brother become such an asshole of a dom?


Then Beaver is lining himself up at Dick's ass, resting his head on Dick's shoulder. Then he slides in and it's incredible; Dick's raising his hips again and again, trying to get his little brother in deeper.


Beaver starts with long, deep, steady strokes that make Dick throw his head back and moan. “Fuck, Beav,” he groans, wrapping his legs around his little brother to urge him on, faster and deeper and just more. Beaver raises an eyebrow and Dick closes his eyes because he really doesn't want to see what a smug son of a bitch Beaver's being in the middle of sex. He feels Beaver's hands grabbing at his hair and the younger one is thrusting harder; he's getting a little more desperate too. Dick's still got his legs wrapped around to urge Beaver on; then his eyes are open long enough to lean up and get another needy, insistent kiss. Beaver's mouth tastes a little salty still; then he's descending from the kiss and burying his face in Dick's neck.


The he sinks his teeth in and Dick cries out; it hurts but it's so good and so hot and he's about to come; Beaver's hands pulling at his hair and cock in his ass and teeth in his neck; they're both painting and Dick's writhing, oh god harder harder harder-


They come at the same time, letting out moans and cries that must have been able to be heard on the moon. They pant afterward, and Beaver pulls himself off to to side of the bed.


“So...” says Dick, a little awkward. “You are gonna untie me now, right? Because seriously, fucking me then leaving me like this would just be like the douchiest move ever. Plus, not a great help with the keeping what happened here secret thing, which we kinda have to do because it's like, illegal,” Dick babbles on and Beaver rolls his eyes.


“Fine Dick, just shut up,” he says quietly, undoing the knots Dick struggled so valiantly against. Dick sighs with relief and pulls his arms back down, rubbing at his bruised and slightly bloodied wrists. Both brothers stare fascinated by the markings.


“Dude, was that really necessary?” Dick asks. “'Cause like, now it hurts like a bitch. Plus, random rope marks aren't like, humanity's least suspicious thing.”


Beaver shrugs, and suddenly avoids Dick's eyes. He stares at the wall ahead, and Dick awkwardly reaches out a hand to touch his little brother. Beaver jumps away, but finally looks Dick in the eye again.


“Thanks Dick,” he says, confusing the aforementioned somewhat. “For helping me decide something,” he explains, and Dick doesn't bother to wonder what. Then Beaver leaves.


A week later, “that fucking cunt” Betina, and seven others, are dead.