“I, uh, I don’t think we should be doing this…”
“If you’re worried about Russell, he’s at home. Our parents aren’t supposed to be back until later so it’s fine.”
“That isn’t quite what I, ah, meant.”
Chris wasn’t sure how else to address the teen straddling his hips nor his current attire. Their school didn’t really have a uniform—which he thanked if only because he wouldn’t have been able to afford it—so that begged the question of where exactly did Russell’s brother get something like this?
There was also the mixed feeling of having someone whose name he didn’t even know practically sitting on him as well as the fact that they shared the appearance and relation to someone he may have had a crush on.
Russell’s brother was gleaming at him, his green eyes and smirk always giving the impression like he knew something someone didn’t and was merely waiting to be asked for details. It and his insistence had garnered him the nickname ‘the Informant’, but no one ever called him it seriously. Especially since any questions regarding him and Russell he usually refused to answer.
Except, he seemed to always be telling Chris things about Russell he’d never asked and wasn’t sure he was supposed to know.
“I know what it is you’re thinking when you see Russell,” he whispered leaning closer to trail kisses down Chris’ neck. He didn’t feel it necessary to mention that he felt the same way, though in his opinion his feelings were stronger. After all, he was the most important to Russell and this would ensure that he got to keep him all to himself. Chris was pretty easy on the eyes anyway, so it wasn’t that much of a hardship.
His brother’s friend grew tense beneath him, but from his position he could feel the way Chris’ pants stiffened. Once more, he leaned up punctuating his next sentence with a nibble at Chris’ earlobe.
“It’s okay; I look enough like him don’t I?”
He was tempted to tell him he could even emulate how he sounded, but that was a careful secret he kept under wraps. Instead, he took one of Chris’ hands and moved it to his hip. His fingers hesitantly gripped the fabric of his shirt and when he felt him touch his skin, Russell’s brother knew he was willing to give in now.
“If you wanna’ call me Russell instead it’s okay,” he moved to initiate a kiss as he spoke, enjoying the fact he managed to convince him to do this. Chris let himself get into the kiss in order to avoid answering, but it wasn’t like Russell’s brother cared either way. He was just in it for what this would mean to Russell and ultimately to get a quick fuck.
Chris wasn’t a bad kid and even he’d admit was a decent friend and fun to be around. He just was becoming too prominent in Russell’s life that he wanted to send a message.
It was only when Chris started moving on his own, albeit slower and not completely sure that he found himself grinding down already eager to feel the release that came with moments like these. The only reason he wasn’t begging or rushing too much was because he was pretending to be Russell and more importantly pretending to be Chris’ idea of Russell.
He wouldn’t know that when Russell was really desperate he became reckless and almost violent in his movements. He wouldn’t know that when goaded, Russell would bite and scratch and wrap those beautiful fingers around his throat or stick them in his mouth if only to shut him up.
For Chris, Russell was a wounded bunny. Gentle and sweet—even if he did know a little bit about just how scary his brother actually was. He wanted to protect him; save him and take him away from their bad home life and give him the love and care he deserved. Sometimes he thought if it weren’t for him whether Russell would already be living at Chris’ place instead given he and his mom might have enough resources to accept another kid, but most certainly not enough to provide for both of them.
He can’t help but wonder if Chris could ever accept or forgive the types of deeds and impulses that passed through Russell’s brain though. He had the urge to spill his brother’s secrets namely about how the girl Chris liked nearly fell to her death because Russell wanted to shove her down the stairs out of white, hot jealousy. It’s why he can’t completely accept Chris’ feelings towards Russell either because beyond his own envy, he knew that no one else could possibly accept and love Russell for the type of person he was; who he really was deep down.
Only he could accept that Russell and he wanted to show him it. Unfortunately, listing off all the things he kept to himself to his supposed only friend was potentially a bit much, so sleeping with him to make him jealous was a way better option.
“Please, Chris, it’s okay. I’ll tell you if it hurts,” he wanted to laugh as he said it because he knew it wouldn’t hurt that much, not to mention saying please felt off, but he knew it was the closest Russell would ever get to begging. Well, with Chris anyway. When it came to him, Russell just did what he wanted or glared at him until he got the message.
The only unsatisfying thing about this was that he knew Chris would never hurt him the way he wanted. It was probably why Russell was so fond of him really. He’d like it if he moved a little faster though.
“S-Should I, move this or?” Chris asked, a little breathless as he tugged at the edge of Russell’s brother’s skirt. He let out a small yelp when the other moved to stand about to take off the leggings before instead ripping at the fabric enough to get it out of the way as it’d already been a little ripped before they started. The blush that spread on Chris’ face as a result he’d admit was cute, but the way his dick was straining against the panties and tights he’d been wearing was getting annoying.
Using his new spot of leverage, he began to work on getting Chris’ pants open and pushed down as well. His brother’s friend watching him do this wasn’t nearly as exciting as when Russell had been watching, but the experience both served a purpose and let him get more than what his brother had been willing to give him earlier.
Sometimes Russell was unwilling to indulge his needs finding their actions more disgusting than pleasant, so finally getting a complete release would be nice—especially when he got a better look at just what would be going inside him. Maybe if he rushed him just a little it would actually hurt in a nice way.
He was still a bit stretched from earlier and while he did bring lube in his bag, a part of him didn’t want to use much of it. Given just how big Chris looked, he reasoned he probably would need to though. Chris would panic if he looked to be in too much pain and while he did enjoy it hurting there was a limit to how much he could take too.
“Here let me…” with less hesitation than he should be using considering the fact he was supposed to be pretending to be Russell, he leaned over removed the bottle from his bag, popped the cap and began getting Chris’ length slick. The former blush on his face returned and reddened as he let out a noise from Russell’s brother’s actions though he didn’t miss the slight crinkle of concern that flickered in Chris’ eyes. He’d rather his eyes be glazed over with pleasure.
“You seem… really experienced at this. Have you, ah—!” Chris started to ask before he quickened the pace trying to drown out the question. Didn’t he know having that concern directed at him just hurt? He couldn’t understand it and more importantly it wasn’t wanted here.
Instead, he let a smirk play on his lips answering in the way he typically did whenever someone asked a question he didn’t want to answer.
“Is it that surprising? I know I’m play acting Russell right now, but I’m still your good old Informant. There is little I don’t know or at least that I wouldn’t be able to find out about,” he paused in his explanation, to pour a little more lube on his fingers figuring he should make sure he’s as stretched as he felt.
“I promise I know enough to make sure you have a good time, s-so don’t worry,” he stuttered the last part as he started to finger himself, admittedly going a bit faster than he should feeling more eager than he wanted to admit about riding Chris. The image at least has the effect he wanted though his brother’s friend almost ruined it again with another question and his gentleness.
“Does it hurt?” Chris asked trailing his fingers back along his hips.
“N-No,” he breathed out finally finished with what preparation he felt necessary. Figuring that was the type of response he’d receive knowing who Chris was, he decided not to mention that he preferred it more rough than gentle.
Crawling forward, he did his best to line up with Chris’ cock only waiting long enough to ask the other if he was ready because it was the sort of thing that Russell would ask. Those infuriatingly gentle fingers rubbed at his sides once more easing him down bit by bit and he realized that he’d never felt this full before. Carefully, he draped his arms around Chris’ shoulders enjoying the stretch enough that he was willing to let Chris take control.
Not that he particularly wanted to be in charge, getting Chris to agree to all this had just taken more work than he was used to doing. With Russell all he usually had to do is leave the offer there or make an excuse for all those buried feelings to surface. The adults he’d exploit for this kind of attention were often even easier, but those sorts of experiences were ones he’d rather not dwell on.
When he finally started to move, it’s just as slow and steady as Chris would want—as careful as he thinks Chris would expect Russell to be. As the pace bit by bit sped up, he could feel tears forming at the corners of his eyes, but he can’t tell whether it’s from how good it felt or from the slight sore feeling crawling up his back when he moved just a bit too fast. He didn’t particularly care about the why though instead just pleased Chris didn’t seem to notice or worry about it too wrapped up how he was feeling.
Nothing made him happier than driving him to such a state. Any time he came over with Russell or the few times they chose to attend class, he always saw the attentive way his brother’s friend looked at him. Over and over he’d hear the concern and care he’d give Russell and he wasn’t sure whether to be jealous about someone else entering their little bubble in such a way or the fact that it sometimes left a rare smile on his brother’s face.
It hurt when he heard the way Russell’s name slipped from Chris’ mouth, but he knew he was the one who encouraged it. The whole thing made him sick because Russell was his and their relationship and what they’d been through should always overpower whatever connections he made to other people. Just as he wanted no one else to become more special to Russell, he too refused to let anyone else in for fear they’d replace the spot he left sorely for his brother despite how wrong it was.
He wanted to spill it all now. He wanted to tell Chris every tiny terrible thing Russell had almost done as well as the things he’d done to him. The only reason he hadn’t undressed fully in front of Chris was because the marks on him looked too close to a certain someone’s fingers.
Pushing it out of his mind, he focuses on making Chris come. He wanted to be completely soiled and worse he wanted to go home specifically in clothes borrowed from Chris so his brother would know what he did. He could see his face now. He wondered if he’d look hurt or betrayed. Or would he just look angry and accuse him of doing something terrible again? Would he understand why? Would he accept it if he explained exactly why he did what he did?
The smile that crossed Russell’s brother’s face is genuine at the thought even with the way Chris clutches at him calling out a different name rather than one he never even knew. For when he went home, of course Russell would accept his actions. No matter how angry or disgusted he was at them, he’d understand and furthermore, understand that because of what he just did things would be impossible between him and Chris now.
That is, without him anyway. No one can enter their bubble unless they’re willing to accept both of them after all. No matter what he does or where he tries to go Russell can’t leave him behind and he’ll do whatever is necessary to prove it to him.