Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Bro came home late that night, he announced his arrival by kicking the front door shut with enough force that it rattled in its frame. Dave jolted awake, reflexively tightening  his grip around the controller in his hands. Blinking rapidly, he shifted himself further up the sofa as he stretched his legs over the stained coffee table, letting out a small sigh of contentment as his leg muscles groaned in appreciation. He didn’t even remember drifting off, but he was sure as hell awake now.

”Bad night?” Dave called out from the sofa, not looking around at his brother who was in the kitchenette behind him, wrenching open the fridge and clattering around loudly inside.

Dave picked at his shirt, trying to unstick it from his chest. Despite the tiniest cool breeze wafting in from the open window next to him, the room was still sweltering from the day’s overwhelming summer heat. He was wearing casual, comfy shorts (commando of course, gotta let the boys breathe in this heat) and a plain red t-shirt that he had half a mind to take off. Large, rounded sunglasses slipped down his nose for the umpteenth time that night as he tiredly wiped his face of sweat and pushed them back up. The flickering light of the TV was the only illumination in the entire two bed apartment, casting everything it touched in a whitish-blue hue. 

Bro only responded with a small grunt as he popped the lid on a bottle of beer and took a sizable swig, slamming the fridge door with similar fervor as before. Dave thought better than to push his line of questioning, as it was obvious his brother was in an especially bad mood tonight. Still, he couldn't help but wonder why. He always wondered why.

“There’s chinese in the fridge if you want.“ Dave continued, keeping his voice level and not taking his eyes off the screen as his breathing started to quicken. Small beads of sweat had appeared at his brow, and he fought the urge to wipe it away. His palms were clammy, the controller harder to grip as it threatened to slip from his fingers. Still he kept his attention on the TV, determined to ignore his brother’s intimidating presence behind him. His focus was broken when Bro suddenly appeared by his side, throwing his weight into the sofa cushions next to him as he slid down into a slouch. He took another exaggerated drink as he pointedly stared ahead at the TV, leading his head against a gloved hand.

As subtly as he could manage, Dave chanced a side-glance towards Bro from behind his shades, noting how his white vest was also slick with sweat, sticking to his toned chest that slowly rose and fell with each breath. His gaze lingered a second too long however, as Bro paused with the bottle raised to his lips as his head turned almost imperceptibly towards Dave, who swallowed thickly and tried to continue with his game. It had been going well, he’d made considerable progress in this session so he was feeling pretty impressed with himself. But now that Bro was home, Dave knew he was likely going to have to fight to keep control of the TV as his older brother would want to watch some shitty serial or late night shopping channel. Most of the time Bro would be asleep within half an hour, spending the night asleep on the sofa instead of in his own bed, so he figured it was more of a ‘fuck you’ move rather than an actual interest. Dave was on edge for any sudden movements or grabs, his grip on the controller vice-like despite his increasingly slippery grip.

For as long as Dave could remember, Bro had always had a temper. Once upon a time he was content enough to only take his frustrations out on inanimate objects, but over time he had slowly begun involving Dave. It hadn’t been immediately obvious to him either, dismissed as only a bit of roughhousing. Bro never apologized either, which just cemented the idea in Dave’s young mind that what he did never warranted apologizing for. It wasn’t until Dave had reached adulthood he started to realise that being used as a punching bag by your brother wasn’t exactly the norm. He sometimes considered moving out and getting his own place, but he had no income and Bro paid for everything. He felt well and truly stuck. So try as he might, it either ended up one of two ways; absconding from the situation or being forced to acquiesce. Their most recent tussle had ended up with Bro kneeling heavily on Dave’s back as he twisted his arm behind him until he eventually submitted and apologized.

Dave closed his eyes, a quiet shaky breath escaping his lips as he tried to will away the memory of their most recent fight. If you could even call it a fight, Dave had hardly been able to fend Bro’s attacks off before he swiftly had him pinned to the ground. The weight of his brother atop him had been suffocating, unable to throw him off as Bro pulled his arm behind his back so violently he was convinced it was about to pop out of the socket. Dave had begged and pleaded with his brother to stop, his cries of pain only seeming to egg his brother on until he was practically screaming at him to stop. “ Bro, please-please I’m sorry, okay? I won't do it again, I’m sorry!” Only then had Bro let his arm go, letting it fall to the ground with a loud thud. Bro had muttered something under his breath at that point and left Dave there on the ground, quietly sobbing into the carpet. This was all because Dave had drunk the last soda and hadn’t bothered to buy more. The fucked up thing was, he had seen the whole thing coming.

What made it even more fucked up though was that he had been turned on the entire time.

Desperately trying to ignore the heat of Bro’s thigh pushing against his own, Dave stared at the TV but the shapes were becoming blurry and unfocused as he blinked rapidly, trying to fight off the lightheadedness overtaking his senses. Despite his half-hearted attempts to distract himself, he could feel all his blood starting to rush towards his groin. 

“Dude this is a three seater, and you’re taking up over two-thirds of the space.” Dave muttered as Bro’s skinny-jeaned leg knocked against his for the millionth time. Bro responded by shoving his right leg against Dave’s own once again with enough force that  he had to quickly jam his elbow underneath himself to stop from falling over completely. As he pushed himself upright he shot a dirty look at Bro, who now had his arms stretched out across the back of the sofa and was somehow taking up even more space. 

Deciding not to grace Bro with a response, Dave switched off his game, leaving the TV on the blank standby screen. He wiped his palms subtly on his shorts before throwing the controller onto the coffee table, the noise of which made Bro’s eyes open just a crack. Dave winced. “TV’s all yours, man.” 

As he made to stand up, Dave froze as large fingers curled around the back of his neck and held him in place. He felt his heart sink while the pool of heat in his groin flared as he realised tonight was going to go exactly the way he thought it would when Bro first arrived home. There was movement in his periphery and Dave tensed in response, muscles in his legs tight and coiled, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. It would’ve been an impossibly imperceptible shift in his stature, if only his opponent had not been gripping his neck and able to feel the minuscule spasms within his body. Had his opponent not been Bro. The hold on the back of his neck tightened and Dave tried to stop any visible reaction showing in his face. Bro smirked at him.

“Relax, lil bro. Twitchin’ all over the place like an abused housewife.” He snorted as he tipped the bottle on its end and drained the last few drops. He stared at it for a moment, before dangling it in front of Dave between a thumb and forefinger. ”Get us another, would ya?”

With a small scowl, Dave snatched the bottle and stood up, the tight grip on his neck thankfully releasing as he did so. He strode over to the kitchen behind the living area and chucked the bottle at the overflowing trash bin, where it bounced off the pile and clattered onto the linoleum. He cursed inwardly, knowing such behaviour was just begging to get a reaction out of Bro. With a glance at the living room area, Dave half expected to see the sofa empty. But Bro hadn’t moved, his silhouette outlined by the TV showing that he was still resting his head against the back of the cushions. A wave of relief and disappointment rushed through Dave as he grasped the fridge handle and pulled it open. It was mostly empty, except for a couple out of date takeout containers and a few bottles of beer. They were new, Bro must have brought them home with him. It was a stupid and cliche way to live, two guys in an apartment totally incapable of cooking or cleaning up after themselves, but fuck if Dave was going to step up and become mother hen. Bro was the one with a job and an income, so therefore he was meant to take responsibility for this shit. He reached in and grabbed a bottle when Bro’s voice broke the silence, making Dave’s hand tremble around the glass.

”Grab two.”

Dave considered aggravating the situation by asking him to say please. Instead, he let out a shaky breath and grabbed a second bottle. He padded back over to the sofa, tactically staying behind it as he looked down at Bro’s upside-down face. With his eyes perpetually hidden behind those dumb pointy shades, Dave had become a master at reading the other elements of his brother's demeanor to determine his mood. He saw how Bro’s jaw was clenched and stiff, his mouth a thin line. And he was pretty sure he was staring directly right at him. Dave suppressed any reaction as he stared back, matching his brother’s stern expression.

Dave held out the drinks, keeping a sizable distance between them. Just to keep out of the reach of any more grabby hands and to give him a slight advantage in case he decided to bolt. He wondered if Bro had locked the door when he came in. Maybe the hallway window would be better this time and he’d jump down the fire escape from there. Clanging the bottles together, Dave made a small noise of irritation in the back of his throat. When Bro continued to ignore him, he contemplated dropping the beers on the floor and leaving Bro with the mess. He decided against it, reasoning that he’d probably end up face down in the stuff instead as punishment. Maybe Bro would make him lick it up like a dog. Dave squeezed his eyes shut as a pang of arousal flared through him. The bottles tinkled quietly against each other as his hand shook.

“Dude. Take the fucking beer.” Dave shoved a bottle into his brother’s closest hand that was hanging over the back of the sofa and threw the other in his lap. Thankfully Bro’s fingers wrapped around the neck, brushing against his own for just a split second before grasping the cap tightly in his palm and popping it off. Dave had to admit he was always impressed by this, but reckoned it was much easier to do when you wore fingerless leather gloves that protected the soft skin underneath. 

Turning on his heel, Dave was fully intent on heading straight to his bedroom and away from the building tension in the room and in his shorts. He was astounded that they hadn’t devolved into aggression already and he wanted to leave before it became inevitable. At least most of him did. Dave figured that if Bro didn't want to fight right now then he was fully focused on solving the growing problem between his legs, his sights set on the deadbolt lock on his door and the rapidly growing collection of dubious porn he had started collecting on his computer. It was oddly coincidental that his interest in that particular content spiked with the increased aggression between the pair only a few months prior. He didn't like to put too much thought into it.

He had managed a few steps towards freedom before Bro called out again, his voice quiet with an edge of something dangerous, causing Dave’s back to tense uncomfortably.

“What, you’re not going to drink with me?’

“I’ve got college tomorrow. Need to get my sleep on.”

Bro snorted. “Like you give a shit about college. Come here.” 

Before he knew what he was doing, Dave had spun in place and walked back towards Bro, his mind on autopilot as he spared a glance at the TV. A stand-by notification had appeared on the screen that told him that it was going to turn off soon. He stopped, hovering by the arm of the sofa as the small rational voice inside his head was screaming at him as loud as it could to get the fuck out of there. Nothing good was going to come of this, he knew, but yet he couldn't deny his morbid curiosity. They weren’t fighting yet , so what did Bro want with him? Maybe he genuinely just wanted to spend time with his brother. Dave couldn't remember the last time they did something normal like watch TV together. That was a pretty depressing thought.

”Stop pussying about and fuckin’ sit down.”  

Dave considered his options. Bro was somehow now taking up all of the space on the sofa, legs spread so wide that the only possible place to perch was a small gap of cushion positioned neatly between his legs. Unless he wanted to sit on the carpet, there was literally nowhere else to go. Dave looked from the sofa to Bro and let out a quiet, breathy laugh. He couldn’t be serious.

Bro stared back. He was being dead serious.

”Actually, you know what, I think I’ll-” Dave started, pointing towards his bedroom as he turned to leave. A rough hand twisted around his wrist and yanked him down so roughly that he half-stumbled, half-fell onto the sofa right between Bro’s splayed legs. 

“I said sit .”

Dave suppressed a yelp of surprise, coming out as a small squeak instead as his head spun at the sudden movement. He had no time to recover though as Bro’s hand lazily trailed down his side, fingers pushing under the hem of his shirt and moving the fabric aside before coming to rest on his left hip. Dave shuddered at the touch and tried to shift away from the thing poking him in the back. His eyes widened as realisation hit him. 

“Bro, chill with the gay shit. Don’t you have Jake for this kind of stuff?” Dave asked, his voice wavering slightly.

Bro growled in response, pressing his thighs tightly against Dave’s as the hand on his hip disappeared briefly before it grabbed Dave roughly by the throat, boxing him in in the process. He was trapped, unable to think straight as his less rational side became unbearably excited at the prospect of what was going to happen next. He didn’t even know what was going to happen, but god, all he knew was that he wanted it. His breaths came out shaky as he feebly pulled against the forearm pressed across his chest but it was no use, Bro was just stronger and in truth he wasn’t fighting that hard. Dave swallowed heavily against the digits caressing his throat.

”Jake’s done.” Bro rumbled deeply in Dave’s ear. It sent jolts straight to Dave’s already half hard cock and he tried his best not to wriggle about more than he already was.

“Again?“ Dave asked, his question coming out half-strangled as the fingers tightened in warning.

“Drink.” Bro commanded, lifting his free hand up and pushing the lip of the beer bottle against Dave’s trembling lips. It was cold and clashed painfully against his teeth as Bro forced the bottle past them and tipped it upwards, the bitter liquid rushing quickly to the back of his throat which caused him to reflexively gag. He coughed and spluttered most of it down his front, but Bro didn’t yield, tipping the bottle up further as Dave desperately tried to gulp down what he could. His stomach churned at the taste, he fucking hated beer, but there was too much of it as it quickly filled his mouth - some of it dripped onto Bro’s arm and he growled, his warm fingers curling around Dave’s throat and under his chin, yanking his head back as he relentlessly poured more down his brother’s throat. Dave tried desperately to swallow as quickly as it came, but Bro was squeezing his windpipe which made swallowing incredibly difficult as he wheezed and coughed, bubbles spilling over the edges of his mouth and dribbling down his face.

”Stop fuckin’ spilling it.” Bro warned, his voice in Dave’s ear as he gave the grip around his brother's throat an especially hard squeeze.

Dave gulped as fast as he could, suppressing his want to gag at the taste as he frantically swallowed it all down. The sooner it was drunk, the sooner it was over, he told himself. Finally, the flood subsided and he was able to take a deep, shaky breath as his head started to swim from the lack of oxygen and forced inebriation. The beer wasn't especially potent, and it’d usually take a lot more than one or two drinks to get Dave even remotely tipsy, but it was more than just the alcohol that was assaulting his senses and making his head spin. This hadn’t been what he’d expected at all. 

“Bro, what the fuck-ah-“ he started as tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes. Two fingers cut him off as they forced their way into his mouth and held it open as Bro single handedly opened the other beer bottle and began raising it to his lips once again. Dave thrashed against Bro as he pulled him closer, settling himself back against the sofa cushions. With the butt of the bottle, Bro nudged Dave’s chin upwards so his head rested against Bro’s shoulder as he resumed pouring its contents down Dave’s throat. It was a little easier to swallow this way, but Dave still wriggled pathetically against Bro’s steel-like grip, pulling again at the arm holding him down, nails digging into the flesh of Bro’s unyielding bicep.

Dave’s heart thundered in his chest, each thumping beat so violent he was sure Bro could hear it, let alone feel it as he held him tightly. Once the second bottle was empty, Bro threw it carelessly to the side as Dave mumbled a weak protest, saliva and alcohol spilling down his chin as he tried to catch his breath. Bro just laughed quietly as he grabbed Dave’s face, squeezing his cheeks tightly as he turned Dave’s head to the side, his lips brushing against his ear. His voice was low and even, almost a purr. 

“You want this.”

The timer on the TV finally reached zero, switching itself off and plunging them both into darkness.

Dave choked, his heart skipping a beat as Bro’s tongue ran up the the side of his face, from the edge of his jaw up to the side of his mouth to collect the liquid that had dribbled down. His breath was hot, he reeked of alcohol and just a hint of vanilla as Dave fought to turn his head away but Bro held him in place as he sucked at the side of his mouth, dipping down to lap at the pool of beer that came to rest in his clavicle. He couldn’t control his breathing now, ragged desperate breaths coming out in pants as his chest heaved, mind blank and unable to process what was happening. All Dave could think about was his brother’s tongue that was lavishing his skin, the way he held him close against his chest and the heat that pulsated through the thin material separating them. Bro was so hot, so hot that his touch was like fire, fingers skirting across Dave’s shivering flesh as he nipped and sucked at Dave’s exposed neck, hard enough to mark and elicit a small whine from the younger brother.

It was like all his fantasies had become reality, his deepest darkest desires were being laid bare and he wasn’t even sure if he was awake anymore as Bro continued to trace his skin with his fingers, unusually light, oddly gentle and somehow, somehow , it felt wrong - Bro was never this nice, even when he wasn’t fixated on beating Dave up. It was always a casual indifference, bordering on neglect and especially nothing like this. He didn’t want this . Dave struggled again, using Bro’s lapse in temperament to grasp the forearm holding him down in both hands.

He bit down.

Bro swore loudly, roughly grabbing Dave’s wrists and pulling them both behind his back while twisting roughly upwards. The barely-recovered sprain in his shoulder flared up once more with a roar as Bro pulled on them with an anger that scared Dave to his core. Waves of pain and anguish rippled through Dave as he gritted his teeth, desperately trying not to give Bro the pleasure of his discomfort. Bro leaned forward, trapping both of Dave’s arms between their bodies as he forced him to lean forward as well.

”You don't want me to play nice?” He hissed. “Fine.”

“Get the fuck off me-” Dave responded through gritted teeth, panting as his stomach pushed against his straining erection. He could feel Bro’s own arousal pressing into the small of his back as he struggled against his hold. A large hand reached around and cupped his crotch, palming at the soft material and rock hard erection underneath. Dave whimpered. 

“Bro, p-please. Just because your boyfriend doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore doesn’t mean you get to a-ah-“ A sharp tug at his twisted arm coupled with a squeeze of his dick made Dave finally moan out loud, his face burning with embarrassment as his mask finally cracked.

”Don’t fuckin’ talk about him,” he growled. “This is about you.” Bro’s hand slipped under the waistband of Dave’s shorts and roughly grabbed his cock, enveloping it easily within his hand. His leather gloves were smooth to the touch, but the material pulled uncomfortably against his sensitive flesh. Dave keened, jerking in Bro’s hold which caused more waves of pain to emanate from his shoulder. “And the way you fuckin’ parade around here, tryin’ to get a reaction out of me by actin’ up.” He licked the edge of Dave’s ear, causing him to shudder. “An’ don’t think I haven’t noticed you gettin’ off on the way I fuckin’ beat you.”

Dave tried to disagree, make a noise of contention, anything, but Bro had started jerking his cock now, quick and shallow strokes that made Dave writhe in his lap, instinctively pushing back and up against his older brother’s erection. Bro groaned quietly as he rested his chin in the crook of Dave’s neck, his breaths hot and fast against the side of Dave’s face.

Tears were beginning to spill down Dave’s cheeks now, it was becoming too much and he couldn’t think, he couldn’t get away, he didn't want to get away, he just wanted more, more of this, more more more-

“You want more?” Bro asked with a dark chuckle, his voice thick with lust as Dave realised he had been chanting the word in his delirious state.

Even if he could bring himself to lie, his own body betrayed him as Dave shakily nodded his head as small moans bubbled up his throat and past his lips, spilling out into the night as pathetic whimpering. As Bro’s hand quickened on his cock and his stomach coiled tight, his end coming ever nearer, Dave broke completely. “Bro! Please! Fucking please, don’t stop, god please fuck-ah-!” He gasped, whined and moaned as he was assaulted from all angles, the sharp blinding pain in his shoulder made spots dance across his vision as his brother twisted it further and further behind his back, the grip around his wrists felt tight enough to bruise. Bro never slowed his pace, bringing Dave closer and closer to the edge as he relentlessly pumped his cock, the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming his senses until it was too much, just too much-

He came violently as his brother bit down on his exposed neck, sucking hard at the vulnerable flesh as Dave came undone in his brother’s hand, riding it out in great shuddering waves that wracked his body until he was utterly spent. He was sobbing uncontrollably now, tears streaming down his cheeks as he twitched with each post-orgasm throb.

There was a moment of pause, then Bro shifted and stood up, the space he left behind causing Dave to fall back into the sofa cushions as his body went limp from exertion. He was lying on top of his injured arm, bent awkwardly underneath him but he couldn't bring himself to care. He sucked in each shaking breath as it rattled pathetically in his throat. There was movement in the darkness, and a weight pushed down on the cushion above his head. Moonlight had crept in the room through a crack in the curtains and Dave could just make out the silhouette of Bro above him, one hand supporting himself on the sofa and the other deep within his jeans.

Dave tried to speak, his throat hoarse from the screams that had just ripped through him but it came out as a small questioning croak. A warm gloved hand covered his mouth, almost gently, as Bro loomed over him in the dark, small breathy sounds breaking the silence as Bro continued to stare at Dave, his focus unwavering. 

It didn’t take long. Quiet, muffled moans that soon turned into quickened grunts that suddenly stopped- Dave was only vaguely aware of something hot and wet splattering across his face as Bro groaned deeply in the dark.

Quiet fell upon the Strider household once more as the two brothers caught their breath, not saying a word. Sensation started to creep back into the arm trapped underneath Dave, pins and needles prickling across the skin and he shifted, trying to move it into a more comfortable position. The movement seemed to bring Bro back to attention as he jerked upright suddenly and stood, his tall imposing figure looking down at Dave who was still sprawled messily across the sofa. Bro seemed to stare at him for a full minute, his expression masked in shadow, the only light in the room glinting off his shades. Dave was frozen in place, holding his breath as his heart continued to beat frantically as he replayed what had just happened in his head over and over. And then Bro was gone, his after-image lingering for a split second and a quietened noise of the front door clicking shut. As he pushed himself up with his good arm, lamenting how even that caused him to wince a little, and leaned against the back of the sofa, Dave watched the front door that his brother had just absconded through.

With a hiss, Dave lifted himself up from the couch and staggered towards his room, not bothering to turn on any lights as he shuffled towards his destination. Instead he used his hand to feel along the walls, his fingertips brushing the bumps on the wallpaper which sent little sparks and jolts up and down his arm as it slowly regained feeling. Shouldering his door open with a loud groan, he pushed through and kicked it shut behind him. He contemplated locking it, but ultimately decided against it. What would be the point now? A few more steps and then he fell face first onto his unmade bed, pulling his shades off and placing them on the side table next to his bed. His curtains were open, his window ajar to try and let the cool night air in and moonlight bathed his whole room in a cold light. As he began to drift off, he sleepily noted the stains that now striped across the lenses. He closed his eyes. He could deal with that tomorrow. He could deal with it all tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Faint but insistent beeping broke the silence of the early morning, causing Dave to stir from a dreamless sleep with a weary groan. He opened his eyes just a crack, shifting his head towards the source of the disturbance. His pillowcase pulled against his cheek with a sharp pinch and he grimaced at the sensation as he peeled the fabric away from his skin. His upper body ached, his head was pounding and his mouth had taken on the properties of a desert as he began to suspect he hadn’t moved an inch since collapsing into bed only some hours prior. Daylight beamed brightly into his bedroom through his open curtains, the heat of the day already starting to make the room’s temperature rise. If he didn't get up and close the window soon it would quickly become unbearable. Closing his eyes to offer a little relief to his thundering headache, Dave grasped blindly for his sunglasses on the side table, thankfully finding them in their natural place and swiftly pushed them into place as he rolled over onto his back and into a more comfortable position. There was a twinge of discomfort in his right shoulder as he moved, and he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom as his eyebrows came together into a small frown. 

His thoughts were continually being interrupted by the insistent beeping, of which had become slightly louder as Dave realised the noise was actually his phone nestled in the front pocket of his shorts. He pulled it out and jabbed at the screen in annoyance to stop the alarm. As he considered rolling over and sleeping the rest of the day off due to feeling like complete shit, Dave noticed he had a few unread notifications from Pesterchum. Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened the app and peered at the screen, holding the phone at different distances from his face to try and figure out why he couldn’t read the text. He may have sensitive eyes but they worked perfectly fine, so why was the text so blurry?

Oh.

Pushing aside the memories of the previous night that were bubbling under the surface of his consciousness, he lifted the shades up instead so he could look at his phone screen closely. 

= ghostyTrickster [GT] continued pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 03:24 =

GT: ok but you're completely wrong.

GT: fifth element is a great film and a cult classic!

GT: the singing alien lady is meant to be hilarious.

GT: i swear you say half this stuff to get my goat :B

GT: dave, you there?

GT: did you fall asleep?

GT: that's weak, dude.

= turntechGodhead [TG] is now an idle chum! =

GT: lame!

GT: ah well i'll see you tomorrow?

GT: night dave!

= ghostyTrickster [GT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 03:45 =

Resting the shades against his forehead, Dave quickly typed out a reply.

= turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering ghostyTrickster [GT] at 09:04 =

TG: yeah man i decided to get my sleep on because i really wanted to be extra refreshed for another day of really important photography college

TG: and thats all there is to say on the matter

Almost instantly, Dave’s phone vibrated in his grip. 

GT: laaaaaaaame.

Dave rolled his eyes as he allowed himself a small smile. GhostyTricker was John, his best friend since forever, and he was a fascinating mix of being unashamedly nerdy, alarmingly naive and a fiercely loyal friend. They attended the same college, undertaking different courses but you could bet that any spare time they had they spent together, often just chatting shit and enjoying each other's company. It was a simple friendship, and one that Dave treasured greatly. It was definitely a lot easier-going than certain other friends he had. Or any relationship he had with anyone, for that matter. Pushing himself into a sitting position, Dave lamented how exhausted he felt, letting his head fall heavily forward as he leaned his elbows on his knees to continue typing his reply. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to operating on minimal sleep most days, but it felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to his body while he was asleep. His shoulder ached especially badly as he pretended like he didn’t know exactly why it felt that way.

TG: despite bailing on my best bro for sweet sleepytimes im still fucking shattered

TG: 6 hours is not enough sleep

TG: anyone who says otherwise is lying to themselves

TG: considering not coming in today

TG: a real tragedy i know

TG: breaking news

TG: half assed college student half asses college

TG: more on this story at 3 folks

TG: actually make that 5

GT: your patter really leaves something to be desired when you’re tired.

TG: ouch

GT: come on man, don't make me spend the day alone. it's really boring without you, i actually learn things instead of fucking around all the time.

Dave had stood with some effort and padded over to his bedroom door, straining his ears to listen for any sound indicating any sort of life within the apartment. Keeping one eye on his phone, Dave opened the door slightly and peered out into the hallway through the small crack. The flat was deathly silent and dark, it was a different kind of quiet he was used to, usually he had to be on high alert for traps or spontaneous beatdowns when emerging from his room, but the air in the apartment was stale and unsettling. He felt uneasy.

GT: hey, you know your bro?

With one last quick glance up and down the corridor, Dave opened his door just a margin further before quickly flash-stepping across the hallway, into the bathroom and locking the door tightly behind him. He tried to ignore how his heart rate spiked, his heart thumping rapidly against his rib cage. Bro was considerate enough to leave the bathroom trap free as it was deemed neutral ground between them. It wasn’t like they had ever come to this agreement verbally, but it was just something that they were both inherently aware of. Even though Bro left in a hurry last night, Dave was unsure if he had slipped back in at some point and he wasn’t sure how an encounter between them would play out. He couldn’t really deal with that right now. Dave tapped out a quick reply as his hands shook slightly.

TG: yes i know my bro what kind of question is that

GT: did he come home last night?

Dave paused.

TG: no

TG: why

Placing his phone precariously on the side of the sink and making it clatter against the porcelain, Dave ran the tap and filled the bowl with warm soapy water until it was sufficiently deep. He plucked his shades from the top of his head and placed them gently into the water. There were a couple of chimes from his phone but they were ignored as he instead focused on stripping himself of his clothes, pointedly ignoring the mirror above the sink before stepping into the shower. 

As soon as the hot water hit his body, he exhaled in relief. He always knew there was nothing a steaming hot shower couldn’t fix. He stood idly for a few minutes, letting the scalding water run down his body, washing away some of his exhaustion as it did so. His mind wandered as he rolled his shoulders, relishing the feeling of the muscles aching as he moved, rotating his arms around and stretching them in the confined space. Finally with a small sigh, he looked down at the problem that he had been doing his best to ignore until now. Leaning his head against his arm on the shower wall while letting the water run down the back of his neck, Dave grasped his erection with his other hand and began stroking it slowly, focusing on the twinge of discomfort in his shoulder as he did so. He finally let his mind drift to what he had been blocking out until now, to the memories that seemed like out of a dream. A fucked up, surreal dream. He bit his lip as he remembered how Bro’s hand had felt around his cock, how his gloves had pulled against his skin. His own movements became faster and more unco-ordinated as small groans fell from his lips as his hips started bucking into his hand as he frantically jerked himself towards his finish, his shoulders tensing and sending twinges of pain down his back as his memories flooded his mind, reminding him of the way Bro had held him and touched him, how he whispered things in his ear that no brother should ever hear-

Dave came with a choked groan, panting against the wall as he watched with half lidded eyes as his release washed away down the drain. A strange sense of calm came over him, dulling his senses as he then lethargically scrubbed himself clean and washed his hair, remembering the conversation with John that he had abandoned, yet again. Stepping out of the shower he snatched up a towel, tying it around his waist and drying his hands on it before grabbing his phone. There were a few lines of blue text waiting for him that he read while pushing his dripping hair out of the way of the screen.

GT: eh, jake was just a bit upset last night is all.

GT: said he and your bro had an argument about something.

GT: dirk got all mad and stormed out.

TG: sounds like him

GT: jake just wanted me to ask you if he came home last night.

GT: i think he’s worried about him.

TG: kinda gay

GT: :B

Dave grabbed a cloth and started wiping his glasses down, taking care to get into the corners and edges and clean them thoroughly. He couldn’t stand any kind of dirt or smudges on his lenses, becoming irritated and on edge if he was unable to clean them properly. In addition to looking fresh as hell, they were also a necessity as both he and his brother both suffered from an extremely sensitive eye condition, that if left uncovered  often resulted in migraines and blurred vision. He hadn’t really noticed at the time, but when Dave had replaced the identical pair of triangular shades Bro had given to him when he was a child with the rounded pair John had sent him as a 16th birthday present, Bro had seemed somewhat put out, ignoring him completely for a few days. 

The rounded shades had been an instant hit with Dave and considered them to be the coolest fucking present from anyone, ever. Despite being a prissy bitch about it, Bro knew he was particular about them and cherished them deeply which made Dave suspect that he did what he did last night on purpose. You don’t fuck with a man’s shades. You just don't. His phone pinged again.

GT: talk more later, i’ve gotta head out and catch the bus.

GT: i’ll see you in a bit.

TG: cya soon

= ghostyTrickster [GT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 09:46 =

Once they were clean and dry, he settled the glasses onto his nose and sighed as he felt his mask slide back into place. With a slight tremble in his hands as he grasped the edges of the sink, Dave finally looked up to examine his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His straw-coloured hair was starting to dry out at awkward angles and his expression was blank, but his gaze was drawn to the purple and red marks that were littered across his neck and collarbone, each one as angry looking as the next. He tentatively touched the largest one on his neck, brushing his fingertips against the bruised flesh and was a little surprised to find that it didn't hurt in the slightest. Disappointment flooded through him. And then disgust. He traced his fingers along his bruised skin, goosebumps appearing under his fingertips as he shivered. 

As he turned this way and that to look at his shoulders from all angles, they seemed to be completely unmarked. He mused that was probably for the best as he rolled his shoulders again, trying to work out the tightness in the muscles. He couldn't say the same for his wrists however, as pale bruises had started forming around them both. After inspecting the rest of his body, he stepped to the bathroom door and quietly unlocked it, pressing his ear to the wood to try and discern any sign of movement. There was nothing but silence.

After a moment, Dave darted out of the bathroom and back into the safety of his own room. He hastily pulled on an oversized hoodie that came up to his chin to hide the monstrous hickey Bro had left him and pulled on his jeans as he gathered what he needed for college that day. Once dressed, he stepped out into the hallway, instinctively tensing for any sudden movement. When nothing came, the tension in his stomach transitioned into something more like nausea. What if Bro never came home? It wasn’t like Dave had any kind of income, as he spent most of his days fucking around at home or fucking around at college. Sure, he was going to sort himself out one day with a job and his own place, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. He thumbed his phone in his pocket, contemplating messaging Bro to ask him…something. Anything. Mostly to confirm he hadn’t thrown himself off the nearest bridge in a fit of incestuous shame. 

Rhythmically patting his jeans as he anxiously made his way down the corridor, Dave didn’t spare a quick glance behind him to where Bro’s bedroom resided at the end of the hall. His footsteps were muffled by carpet as he padded into the living area. Everything was as untouched as it was the night before, the scene frozen in time. He shoved his feet into his Vans, an automatic motion he had repeated so many times before. He watched his hands work independently of his brain as he tied his laces, fingers looping and twisting but never touching. Grabbing his crumpled backpack from the floor where it was hastily dumped a few days prior, his foot knocked against an empty bottle that skidded away until it bounced off a nearby wall. He stopped in place as he stared at it.

-

The darkroom was mercifully empty when Dave slipped inside, reveling in the shaded environment that was cast in a deep red light. Not many students undertook photography at this college, and due to the nature of developing it was bad form to disrupt someone if they were already inside. As such, Dave knew it had been empty when he arrived and promptly flicked the outside marker to ‘occupied’ and closed the floor firmly behind him. The constant noise and visual assault to his senses of the outside world was a main factor in his reluctance to leave his room on any average day, but he reckoned that it was a small price to pay to get out of the suffocating silence of the apartment. Stuffing his headphones into his backpack and releasing a long breath, Dave relaxed. 

He began to busy himself with the newest lot of film that he wanted to develop. He worked automatically, allowing himself to slip into a trance as he got everything ready, arranged neatly on the worktop. Just as he had cut the film from the small cassette and was about to load it onto the reel, the door behind him opened.

Sheltering the film from the light that was spilling in, Dave swore at the intruder.

”Jegus fucking christ, the door says occupied. Are you illiterate-“

”Hi Dave!”

The door clicked shut as Dave’s irritation swiftly dissipated at the familiar voice. “I’ve been here barely 5 minutes Egbert, how did you know where I was? Have you put one of those tracking chips on my person or something because I swear every time I turn around, oh shit, there’s Egbert with his goofy grin up in my personal space-“

”Oh, shush.” John had appeared at his side and smushed his index finger against Dave’s mouth in order to quieten him. The first time he had done this Dave had been taken aback at the physical contact, but after many years of friendship with John he had become used to John’s very hands-on, touchy-feely friendship. The fact that John didn’t seem to realize that his physical affections teetered over the edge to romantic was extremely maddening for Dave, not because he harbored any feelings for John. No, no. The relationship was completely platonic.

Purely platonic, with a side of unrequited feelings that Dave could never find the courage to voice. John was apparently ignorant to it all, not realising his behaviour towards Dave was a little more than ‘just friends’. Dave just assumed he had a really sensitive, “talk about your feelings and hug it out” kind of upbringing. And not the closed-off, “let's fight it out instead of talking at all, ever” upbringing Dave had. But yet somehow John never crossed the line with his friendly affections, mostly because Dave had never drawn it in the first place. In truth, he enjoyed the small moments he had with John, and the innocence he brought with them.

”You’re always in here. Doesn’t take a detective to figure that out. Whatcha doing this time?”

“Just some pics from last week, buncha buildings and architectural shit for the module. Really grim stuff too, so I can expect full marks for these beauts.” Dave muttered as he placed the reel into the film tank, ready for the next step. 

John was leaning against the wall next to him, watching Dave work with interest. “I hope I didn’t ruin them.”

”Nah, I’ll just work it into the narrative if I need to.” Dave smirked at John, who beamed brightly back at him with his slightly buck toothed smile, making Dave’s heart skip as his breath faltered. No matter how many times he saw it, John’s smile always made his day. He quickly turned away and continued his work, keeping his hands and mind busy.

John yawned, stretching his arms above his head as he groaned in a way that sounded too pleasurable, the sound of which made Dave squeeze his eyes shut in exasperation. He had to know on some level what he was doing. John had experienced a very rushed growth spurt in his late teens that caused him to now be all elbows and knees, and more annoyingly, a good few inches taller than Dave. He had still not yet grown out of the habit of wearing his now too-small-for-him movie-poster t-shirts, stating that they were “classic” and  “too cool to get rid of”. Which now meant that any time he raised his arms even just a little bit he flashed everyone and anyone around him his lower belly and the tops of his hips, the intimate details of which Dave was now fully acquainted with. Thankfully his shades disguised any sign of his wandering eyes while John himself was completely oblivious to any kind of lecherous staring. He tried not to, he really did. As Dave’s thoughts transitioned from photography to John’s jutting hip bones he cleared his throat quietly to reset his train of thought. 

”You said you wanted to talk more about…?” Dave trailed off as he poured liquids into several jugs.

”Kind of, I said the gist of it this morning. I told Jake what you said. Your bro really didn’t come home?”

Dave’s hand jerked violently and liquid splashed messily onto the counter. “Shit.“

He ducked down to grab a cloth from under the counter and hastily mopped it up before chucking it into the bin and thoroughly washing his hands in the nearby sink. He glanced over at John who had pulled out his phone and was looking at it in concentration, the tip of his tongue sticking out slightly. He hadn’t seemed to notice.

“No,” Dave began, wiping his hands dry on his jeans. “But that’s nothing to get worked up about. He disappears for days at a time.”

John glanced up. “He does?” 

“Yeah. I just assume he’s either working, or fucking around with your bro.”

John made a face of disgust.

”I don’t mean literally.” Dave laughed at John’s discomfort, shaking his head slightly. “Actually, maybe I do mean literally-“

”Ewww, Dave, don’t! I don’t want to think about my brother doing stuff like that!”

Dave huffed another laugh as he poured the liquid from the jug into the film tank and screwed it tightly shut. He picked it up and began shaking it with vigour as he turned to stare at John, who was exaggeratedly covering his ears and whistling quietly. 

“Dude, stop being such a virgin. Everyone has sex, it's not the end of the world.”

John uncovered his ears as he looked indignant. “I’m not a virgin!”

”You’re not?” Dave’s eyebrow quirked as he turned the container over and over in his hands.

John gaped at him for a second before quickly changing the subject. The mood was soon forgotten as Dave contentedly listened to John ramble about his new favourite shitty film as he agitated the mixture in the film container while letting it rest every so often. After a few mixes, John seemed to bore of talking and instead stepped close to Dave so they were standing side-by-side. This close, Dave could smell John’s deodorant and the sweet scent he always seemed to have whenever he came straight from home. Normally he didn't like such sweet smells, but when it came from John he couldn't get enough of it.

Dave was about to make some kind of remark about personal space as John’s exposed arm bumped against Dave’s clothed one, the presence of which was not lost on John who plucked at the fabric with his fingers.

”Why are you so wrapped up? It’s summer, dude.”

Dave swatted John’s hand away when he began walking his fingers up his arm. “I like being warm.”

”I’m warm right now. You must be sweltering.”

“‘m alright.” Dave mumbled.

”Can I have a go?” John gestured to the tank.

”Knock yourself out.” 

John grinned again and grabbed the tank and began to shake it, jostling Dave in the process. Even so, he didn’t move away, and neither did John. The way John was moving his arms was making Dave’s thoughts wander again, and he indulged that side of him for a bit longer than he should before he reached for the tank to try and slow John’s movements.

”No dude, you gotta flip it as well, like…”

”Turnways?” John chuckled, grinning down at Dave who grimaced back.

”Exactly. Like this-“ he grasped the tank, relishing how his fingers pressed down against John’s as he took the reins. His pulse quickened and his breaths came quick and shallow as he held John’s hands in his own as he showed him how to agitate the liquid in the tank. He was glad for the room’s red light because he was pretty sure his face was turning beetroot from the sustained contact. John, as always, was just having the time of his life and apparently oblivious to Dave’s inner turmoil.

”Okay it's done, s-stop and pass it here.” Dave stuttered as he pulled the tank out of John’s grip and set it down on the side. 

“Fun!” John’s eyes glinted playfully as he finally stepped away to look at something else in the room that had caught his attention. 

”Yeah, it's a real hoot. Don’t you have some class to go fail upwards at or something?”

“Aw, are you trying to get rid of me?” 

”No, I just. Shut up. I’m tired.” Dave finished up his work, removing the film from the tank and began rinsing it under the tap while John chuckled lightly behind him. As Dave had spent the most of his life behind a screen, he found it near impossible to get a true read on his best friend. Coupled with the fact that in recent years Dave had been harbouring conflicted feelings about the guy, he really did wonder if John was fucking with him sometimes. Maybe they were actually playing the world’s longest game of gay chicken and John was actually trying to gauge Dave’s own feelings on the matter. He glanced over at his friend, watching how he peered at each photo hanging up with genuine interest before moving onto the next. What Dave couldn't understand though, was why when he thought of John and him together, he felt sad.

Either way, Dave had resigned himself to not pursue anything. He couldn’t risk being wrong and ruining their friendship forever. If he told John how he felt and John was non-receptive, would they even be able to be in the same room anymore? And it would hurt too much, the thought of what could have been. It was easier to just keep it to himself. And John…even though John was attractive in all the right ways to Dave, he was too nice. Too pure. And Dave…wasn’t.. If it turned out John actually swung in Dave’s direction, Dave just knew that in time he would expose John to his corruption and ruin everything, making him all twisted inside, just like he was. Fucked up in all manner of ways, Dave thought bitterly. The side to him that he never dared show his best friend, the same side that reared its ugly head the night before. The secret that he and his Bro now shared. God, if John knew what had happened, he probably couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as him anymore.

John pulled out his phone as he checked the time. “Ah, shit. I do gotta go though. I’ll catch you later?”

”Much later. Maybe tomorrow. I’m gonna crash at home once I’m done here. I feel like I could sleep through the apocalypse.” Dave rubbed his eyes as he sighed, taking his shades off and holding them gently in the other hand. It was fine, John had seen him without his shades plenty of times before. That first time was a interesting afternoon, with John extremely close to his face and examining his unusually coloured eyes. It had taken a lot of self control to not just kiss him right there.

John frowned. “Are you alright? You seem a bit…off.”

”Just tired.” Dave peered at John with one eye. “Being so cool and indifferent all the time takes a lot out of a guy, didn’t you know?”

John just responded by sticking his tongue out and grinning as he headed towards the door. Just as Dave had turned away and began getting his thoughts in order to continue his work, he was interrupted as a heavy warm weight landed upon his back and wrapped around his front. 

“Wh-!” Dave exclaimed breathlessly as John tightly hugged Dave from behind, his long arms crossing around Dave’s chest and holding him close. John rested his head upon Dave’s shoulder and squeezed him hard as he made a sound of contentment in his throat. Dave had frozen, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides as he struggled with how to react.

”You looked like you needed a hug.” John said quietly in his ear, his hot breath sending shivers up Dave’s spine.

And then he was gone, the door swinging shut quietly behind him.

Dave stood, still frozen in place, eyes wide. 

After a few minutes, Dave began to slowly move, his movements robotic as he reached for the film that was soaking in a tray, pulling it apart and hanging it from the strings draping across the ceiling. It was probably ruined, with all the distractions and incorrect timing but he couldn’t focus on that right now. He thought of how warm John was around him, and the sensation of him whispering into his ear. He then thought of Bro. 

He thought about a lot of things.

Chapter Text

You’re sitting together on the couch, so closely as the backs of his fingers lightly brush your cheek as he laughs at something on the TV. You don’t know what, you stopped paying attention long ago. Around about the time he hooked his arm around your shoulders. His mouth is always slightly open and you can see his slightly too-big incisors jutting out above his bottom lip…he looks so much like John, it’s uncanny. In the dim light you could almost pretend it was him. Your breath hitches, not only at his touch but at that thought. John. Your best friend’s brother. Bro’s boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend. How the hell did you even get into this situation? His thumb lightly grazes the skin just below your ear and it takes all your willpower not to twitch. 

-

Wrapping up quickly, you had returned home after college to collapse into your bed, sleeping so soundly you only had a vague memory of staggering to the bathroom at some point before falling back into complete unconsciousness. All in all, you reckon you slept for over half a day, judging by the amber glow spilling across your room. Even though it seemed to be a considerably cooler day than the day before, everything was still warm which was making it difficult to properly wake up. You think about trying to sleep the rest of the night away, but your stomach is feeling particularly empty. You hadn’t even bothered to check if Bro had returned when you came home, but you knew on some subconscious level that he wasn't. 

So now you’re just lying in bed, contemplating what to do. You grasp for your phone from underneath your pillow and open up Pesterchum, chewing the inside of your cheek in thought.

You could harass John for a while, although he hasn’t messaged you at all since yesterday morning. That upset you more than you wanted to admit. You fix your gaze on a patch of peeling paint on the ceiling. You let your thoughts drift to what you had been avoiding up until now.

Your relationship with Bro had been so completely unhinged before now that this didn't seem like the major catastrophic event it should be. How could you possibly go back to how it was when it wasn’t normal in the first place? You thump your head against your pillow in frustration. You were perfectly happy with the way things were, enjoying your twisted desires alone and not involving anyone else. Kind of. You’d blame yourself completely for what happened; like who actually gets turned on from a bit of roughhousing? Well, a lot of people. But how often does it work out that the person beating you up is getting off on it as well? Actually, probably still likely. But throw in a bit of incestuos brotherly love and the chance of this all coming together at once was near-zero. But here you are. You think maybe it was a consequence of your isolated upbringing where the majority of your life was spent with only one person. It was always just you and Bro, vs the world. You didn’t need anyone else. 

He apparently did.

You glance down your contacts list.

You suppose, in a way, that you had been more than a little annoyed when your Bro had started flitting off with his new boyfriend. Sometimes for days at a time, without a word or a second thought to how you felt. Only coming back when he had to. You huff loudly through your nose. Whatever. Striders dealt with anything that came their way without complaint. A stupid mantra, you always thought, but a hard one to grow out of. And on those particularly hard days where the loneliness was overwhelming, well, John was always more than happy to invite you over for dinner and a movie or two. You always made sure to plant the idea in his head first though, so it didn't feel like you were actually asking. Inner pride, and all that.

You type something quickly into the chat bar, and pause.

That was probably when it all started. In some desperate attempt to gain his attention, you had started acting like an ass, instigating fights and egging Bro on when he would’ve normally just laughed in your face and left you alone. He hadn’t always wanted to fight you. But you pushed and pushed, goading Bro into more extreme reactions as you tried desperately to keep his focus on you. It hadn’t even started off as a sexual thing, either. You just craved the attention, the feeling that you were something to Bro and not just an afterthought. You didn't want anything to change. You’re not even sure how the sexual association started. Perhaps you were so starved for physical touch that your brain took the only thing you had and made it sexual. Maybe you were just a bit fucked in the head. Maybe it was a little of column A and a little of column B. 

You stare at your phone, thumb hovering over the send button.

The main thing keeping you sane now was that Bro had instigated. Sure, he had been drinking but that was nothing new. He wanted you. He had been completely aware of what you were both doing, and he continued anyway. He crossed that line, and there was no going back. Or so you hoped. You hoped? You groan, rubbing your eyes with your forefinger and thumb. 

You hit send.

He wouldn’t reply. But he would see it. You stare at your phone and chew the inside of your cheek until you’re distracted by your stomach rumbling. You pull up a pizza app on your phone and quickly place an order. That meant you probably had about thirty minutes before it came, you’d just about manage that without fading away first. With a sigh and some effort, you sit up. Your room is an absolute mess, but you can’t deal with that right now because you feel disgusting. After a quick shower, you pull on some pajama bottoms and a vest and get ready to work.

Clothes of indeterminable dirtiness were strewn everywhere, while little trash piles were building up on every possible surface. Your computer was in serious danger of liquid spillage from the countless half drunk cans of soda scattered around it. You’d be embarrassed, but embarrassment died a long time ago and was replaced by indifference. Still, it couldn't hurt to pretend to give a shit now and then. Standing with a stretch, you decide to kill the time before your food arrived by tidying up. You pick up strewn clothes and toss them all into a large singular pile, deciding you’ll get around to doing laundry eventually, but at least it's all in one spot now. You turn to your desk, and immediately realize you need some trash bags to tackle this particular problem. 

As you trudge into the kitchen you realize the enormity of your task and quietly curse your past self. And Bro, for that matter. Fuck him for leaving you with this mess. With a sigh, you make your way around the living and kitchen area, picking up stray bottles and discarded food containers, stuffing them unceremoniously into a trash bag. It quickly fills to the brim and you tie it up while dumping it next to the front door. You then remember the overflowing bag in the kitchen and heave that out of the bin also, dragging it a little along the ground while saying a silent prayer to the bin liner gods that it doesn’t rip and leak bin juice everywhere. With a bag in one hand, you expertly use a leg to kick up and open the handle with your foot. The handle jerks downwards and as the door opens you wedge your foot into the gap and swing it wide open with a small triumphant shout that fades away when you realise there’s someone on your doorstep, arm raised in mid-knock and sporting a mild expression of bewilderment. Or was it amusement?

Neither of you say a word. You’re standing there holding two considerably heavy trash bags, starting to feel a little ridiculous while this stranger is blocking the way.  His mouth opens and closes like a damn fish as he looks you up and down, mumbling something incoherent. You’d be annoyed, but there’s something about him that seems oddly familiar, and it isn’t until your mind catches up with your eyes that you realize this guy looks very much like John. An older, tanner and bigger version of John. You let your arms drop and the bags clink quietly against the floor. 

“…Jake?” 

This seems to surprise the guy as his face breaks out into a large, toothy grin. Oh yeah, he and John were definitely related.

”That I am! And…I believe you must be Dave?” He thrusts his hand out towards you and you take it; he clasps his other hand over yours and wildly shakes your hand up and down so roughly that your shades rattle on your face. He releases you and places his hands on his hips as he looks you up and down. 

“The one and only.”

He flashes you another smile that makes your skin prickle.

“Your er, brother. Might he be home?” His accent was strange and you couldn’t place it, like it was a mix of several places all jumbled into one. 

You're on edge now as you fix him with a level look. “No, he’s not here.”

Jake pauses, watching you for a second too long. “Drat. John did mention that you said he hadn’t come home since our…” he looked up at the ceiling again. “Disagreement. And I reckoned, rather than play silly Chinese whispers, I would come check for myself. He’s not answering my messages either, you see.” Jake gives you a hopeful look, as if you would be able to magically produce Bro from behind your back like you had been hiding him this whole time.

You lean to the side and give a half-hearted shrug. “Just me, man. Me and a whole lotta trash I gotta take out before my food comes.”

At this, Jake looks down at the aforementioned bags in your hands like he hadn’t noticed them before now. Maybe his eyesight was really that bad. You sometimes teased John about the thickness of his glasses, but you really found them kinda cute. Jake was sporting a similar pair. Must run in the family. Kind of like you and Bro.

“Oh, where are my manners!” He exclaims quietly before grabbing both from you quickly and hefting them aloft easily with a smile. “Right. Where am I going?”

”You really don't have to-“

”Nonsense. Might as well lend a helping hand while I’m here! You’ll need to point me in a direction, though.”

”Just, back down the corridor and through the doors and take a- you know what, let me just grab some more and we’ll go together.” 

Jake responds by smiling wider, which is starting to get on your nerves. There’s something about his whole schtick that feels off, and his smile doesn’t fully meet his eyes. You go back into the apartment to quickly fill another bag with all the shit from your room, but mostly you take the opportunity to whip out your phone and aggressively message John to get some answers.

= turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering ghostyTrickster [GT] at 17.12 =

TG: john

TG: just a quick question

TG: minor thing

TG: just wanted to run it past you

TG: no biggie

TG: just

TG: why the fuck is your brother here

GT: jake?

TG: no the other brother you have

TG: yes fucking jake who else would it be

GT: did you know he’s actually my half-brother?

TG: what

GT: he’s my half-brother, from dad’s side. 

TG: john does it look like i give a fuck about that

GT: wow.

TG: yeah no that was kinda shitty im sorry

GT: it’s fine! 

TG: is it

GT: yeah :B

TG: im just wondering why hes here 

TG: at my door wearing booty shorts swinging around trash bags full of bottles like they weigh nothing

TG: does your brother lift

TG: it seems like he lifts

GT: idk about lifting but he’s really into lara croft.

TG: what does that even mean

TG: every guy is into lara croft thats a fucking ridiculous statement

TG: fuck gimme a sec hes waiting for me i have to go

You stuff your phone back into your pocket and grab the bag before sprinting back to the front door. You pull it open and he’s still there, just happily staring off into the distance before his attention comes back to you with a glint in his eyes. You feel just a little unsettled but fix your expression into one of cool stoicism. He smiles at you again and jerks his head towards the corridor.

”Lead the way.”

You traipse down the hallway, Jake following a respectable distance from behind. You don’t really know why he’s hanging around, when you clearly said Bro wasn’t home. Maybe he wanted to be around for when Bro came back. Your jaw clenches as you reckon that’s not a good idea for anyone involved. You didn't particularly want a front row seat to an argument between these two, and then you find yourself idly wondering if Jake and Bro ever resolved their problems physically. Or was that something Bro only did with you? Come to think of it, you don't really know what kind of relationship they had. Bro sure as hell never talked about it, just like he never talked about anything, and the only indication you had was how badly he reacted the other night. 

You sweep your eyes up and down Jake’s physique from behind your shades as you hold one of the double doors open for him to pass through. He definitely looked like he’d be able to hold his own against Bro, if the toned arms and thick thighs were any indicator. Jesus Christ, who told this guy he could wear short shorts? It was distracting as hell. And the walking boots with knee high thick socks were definitely a choice, although it definitely worked for him.

You arrive at the trash chute for your floor and unceremoniously stuff your bag into it before stepping back and letting Jake take care of his. As he’s preoccupied, bending over in a way that makes you raise your eyebrow slightly and your cheeks flush, you subtly check your phone and continue to pester John.

TG: ok i see the lara croft thing now

TG: to his credit he kinda pulls it off

GT: yes i’m sure he does it on purpose, so his clients tip more.

GT: i'd be embarrassed but i'm kinda used to it.

TG: clients

GT: no, not like that! he’s a private tour guide that people hire out to visit really remote and dangerous places.

TG: that doesnt sound like a real thing

TG: are you sure hes not a prostitute

GT: yes i’m sure!!

GT: he’s really popular, too. especially with the older ladies ;)

TG: again I ask are you sure hes not just a prostitute

TG: although if he was i could see why hed be popular

TG: hes got a good ass

GT: why are you staring at my brother’s ass, dave?

As you continue to not stare at Jake’s ass, he stuffs the second bag down the chute. It’s apparently giving him a little more trouble than the first as he’s muttering quiet curses under his breath. You’re sure you hear the words ‘blimey’ and ‘poppycock’ and you’re desperately trying to suppress a smirk until you see his forest green waterproof rise up just enough that you see something dark and shiny tucked into the back of his shorts. The smirk slides away and your blood runs cold.

TG: john

TG: why does your HALF brother have a gun

GT: he needs it for his job, i believe. dangerous wildlife and all that.

TG: yes but hes not on a job right now is he

GT: no but i don't think he owns many clothes so he just wears his work stuff at home.

TG: what

TG: that doesnt answer my

“I hate to interrupt, but that blasted bag ripped and I’d appreciate it if I could wash my hands…?” Jake’s voice breaks your focus and you look up at him a bit too quickly.

“Er,” your voice betrays you by croaking slightly and you cover it up by clearing your throat. “Sure.”

Jake beams again, this time noticing there’s a hint of something else hidden behind his smile. And then you’re not sure you saw anything at all.

”Fantastic.” Jake doesn’t wait for you this time, and instead brushes past you a little too close to not be on purpose and strides off down the corridor. You watch him go, feeling uneasy. 

You follow after Jake slowly. You didn’t like guns. They had a sense of finality to them that was unnerving. One wrong move, and you’re gone. Swords, knives, heck, any kind of bladed weapon was cool as fuck in your eyes. You’d love to own a sick-ass sword one day. Hang it up on your wall or something. 

And okay, Jake may need it for his work but why would he bring it to his boyfriend’s house? Oh god. You run through all possible scenarios in your head and feel yourself starting to panic. Get a grip, Strider . The guy’s an Egbert, he’s probably as lethal as a puppy. He probably carries it around as a habit. John said as much, didn’t he?

GT: i wouldn’t worry about it.

TG: that’s easy for you to say

TG: what if hes here to blow my bros brains out over their disagreement

TG: and mine as well now because i saw the whole thing

TG: no witnesses

TG: john if I mysteriously die dont believe the suicide note

GT: o_o

GT: haha! i thought you liked weapons?

TG: i like swords you dumbass

You push the front door open and see Jake drying his hands on his shorts. He glances over to you with yet another toothy grin and you’re reminded of John so strongly it's jarring. Maybe, you think, John could look like this in a few years time. That was a pleasant thought. Jake catches your gaze lingering and he throws you a cheeky wink that makes you turn away and clear your throat. He’s clearly fucking with you but the annoying thing was that it was working. He may look like John but he’s at least got a bit more self awareness. 

There’s a knock at the door. You flash step to it instinctively and wrench it open so fast the delivery guy jumps a little. You mutter an apology and take the pizza from him, the smell awakening your stomach and causing it to twist and grumble loudly. 

As you close the door behind you, you see that Jake has already made himself comfortable on the sofa, rooting around the cushions for the remote and pulling it out with a small ‘aha!’. It’s bewildering how at ease he seems to be in your home, despite you giving off major vibes that he wasn’t welcome. He glances over the back of the sofa, waving his hand to call you over. You oblige for some reason, drawn by the tap-tap-tap of his palm on the empty space beside him. You stop, hovering by the arm of the sofa.

This felt a bit like dejavu. You plant your feet and straighten up into what you hope was a confident stature, undermined only by the pizza box in your hands. 

“Look, Bro isn’t here and probably won't be for hours,” Jake turns his head, a bit too slowly, to look at you with a weird smile. You shift your weight back onto one foot and continue. “I can ask him to call you when he’s back-“

“It’s fine, I’m happy to wait.”

You gape at Jake, whose eyes narrow slightly as he brushes you off. You think of his concealed weapon and the strange vibes you’ve been sensing and decide not to push it any further. This guy may look like your best friend, but everything else reminds you too much of someone else. Someone you were very familiar with.

You sit, dropping the pizza box onto the coffee table, flipping it open before grabbing a slice and devouring it with such speed that under any other circumstances you’d be a little embarrassed. Courtesy can go fuck itself when you’re starving, though. A second slice follows suit and you’re halfway through the third when the twisting hunger in your belly starts to settle. You lean back against the sofa and finish the third slice much slower, savoring the cheese and sweet tomato sauce on your tongue while sighing quietly in contentment. Jake has found something he likes on the TV, something about antique appraisals and is watching it with interest, his arms stretched back and resting casually behind his head. You think about checking your phone and continuing to bitch at John, but at this distance and low light Jake would be able to read your screen way too easily. 

The TV drones on while Jake makes small noises in approval or distaste at the screen, apparently he's got some real opinions about all this old shit. You really couldn’t care less. Disguising it with a subtle stretch, you turn your head just so slightly and glance over at your bedroom door and wonder if you could leave Jake by himself. He seems content enough, and then whatever he has planned for Bro’s arrival you can happily not be a part of it. If you had to, you reckon you could flashstep away and out of the apartment before he even realised you were gone. Yeah, okay. That’s a plan.

A heavy weight lands across your shoulders and pulls you close so abruptly that your train of thought is derailed as you find yourself squished up against Jake’s side. You try to shift away so that your arm isn’t as trapped between yourself and him but he holds you pretty firm. He sighs contentedly as he squeezes your shoulder lightly in what seems like reassurance. You blink a few times, assessing your situation. Jake squeezes you a little harder this time and smiles playfully as the reflection of the TV flashes off his glasses. Yeah, okay. This was fine. Just two guys cuddling and watching TV. It’s not like you and John didn't get your cuddle on now and then, so maybe they were a particularly cuddly family and didn't think too much of it. Yeah, that's probably it.

Except that it's totally not, as you feel fingertips lightly brushing against your neck, back and forth, up and down in a way that's spreading goosebumps all across your skin. When the fingers start to slide up into your hair you find your voice.

”Jake.” You croak.

”Mm?” He replies, not taking his eyes off the screen. 

“Why are you here?”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, as Jake snaps his head around to face yours and gives you a hurt look. You’d almost feel bad, that is until the fingers in your hair tighten just enough that it pinches painfully.

”I thought I was perfectly clear, my dear chap. I’m waiting for your brother.”

”A-are you? Because it kind of seems…”

“Oh? What does it seem like? Tell me.” His voice is low, daring you to continue as he pulls your head to the side sharply to expose your throat. You gasp. 

“I’m don’t- we’re not-“ you choke out as your brain short circuits. This was familiar, too familiar. Oh god why does this keep happening. I warned you about crazy people bro, you think weakly. Haha. 

You frantically reason with yourself. One one hand, he was hot. A dead ringer for your best friend. That you wanted to fuck so badly. And it’s not like you were related. Like that was an issue- okay, audience participation time is over, thank you.  

You hate yourself for it, but you’d be lying if Jake didn't do something for you and your downstairs region was in strong agreement as each tug on your scalp sent sparks straight to your growing boner. 

On the other hand, you didn't quite like the look he had in his eye.

“So?” he purrs. You flinch as his other hand touches your neck, with your head tilted so far you’re trying to glimpse his expression from what you can see from underneath your shades but its dark, too dark and his fucking glasses are reflecting the TV in a way that makes him look like a goddamn anime villian, oh fuck why are you thinking about that now he’s touching the fucking hickey Bro left on you oh god how did you forget that was there-

“Tsk. Such a nasty mark on such pretty skin. Who did this to you, little duck?”

You can’t respond, because you may accidentally blurt out the truth. Jake is holding your hair so tightly now you’re worried he’s going to pull it out. You frown. You like your hair. 

Breath catches in your throat when he dips his head and plants his mouth upon the same mark and sucks so powerfully at it so much that you just know it's going to hurt later. He’s not being gentle about it either, like the presence of the mark offends him somehow. Actually, that’s kind of hot.

”Jake…” you groan deeply as he nips at the skin with his teeth. Your hands wander of their own accord; one comes to rest on his thigh as the other wraps around the wrist holding you.

Jake hums appreciatively against your neck. “Yes, love?”

The pet name snaps you out of it. You’re confused. Dazed and worked up, but still confused. Why the hell was he coming on so strongly, did he not care about his relationship with Bro? “Why?” 

Jake sighs as his smile slips. The atmosphere becomes chilly as he fixes you with an odd look. He pulls your head forward, his grip firm. “Because why the fuck not, hmm? Because I want to, how about that?”

Your eyes dart to the front door and back to Jake, who, to your dismay, notices. You may be wearing sunglasses but this close he could see everything. He could see the worry hidden behind your eyes and was reveling in it. “Are you afraid we’ll get caught?” He presses a thumb into the newly-sored hickey and leans so close his breath fogs up your shades.

“A-aren’t you?”

He laughs derisively. “No, not in the slightest.” His gaze drops to your neck, trailing across your collarbone, down your arms and stops at your wrist. You try to pull your hands away, but he’s already seen it all. “He really didn’t come home last night, hm?”

The last syllable hums on lips that smile so, so widely at you that the allusion becomes clear.

Your eyes widen as you instinctively jerk away but it only results in sharp pain across your scalp. You whine and grasp at his fingers, trying to peel them away but they were like steel. Goddamn, Jake was strong. But you were probably faster, you just needed an opening…

”Ah-ah.” Jake chastises you like a child, wagging a finger in front of you and your face burns hot as you scowl. He continues, ignoring your attempts to pry his fingers off. “I asked you a question, Dave.”

You don’t dignify it with an answer.

Jake taps a finger against his chin in thought while huffing quietly. When he speaks, what comes out of his mouth is an eerily accurate impression of your brother. 

“‘Jake, I think the kid’s trying to get a rise outta me on purpose...’” He quotes, twisting his face up in mock concern. “‘He fuckin’ broke one of my horse statues yesterday and I swear when I beat on him he had a fuckin’ hard on…’”

You swallow thickly. Jake just grins at you, his oversized incisors starting to creep you out. You wonder how you could ever have thought it was cute.

“‘I’m losing my mind, Jake. I don’t know what to do…’”

“What’s your fuckin’ point?” You growl, having heard enough.

“My point,” Jake sneers, digging the nail of his thumb into your sore flesh. “Is that I think you’re lying.”

Something inside you snaps. You grab the wrist that is holding your head and punch upwards at it with your other fist hard enough that Jake actually lets go, genuine shock flickering across his face. You then quickly jab at his neck and chest- you know you’ve hit your mark when you hear him suck in a deep breath that tapers into a choke. He grabs at his throat, a dark look sliding across his face that you really, really don't like the look of. You think it best not to hang around and decide to instigate escape plan number one. Twisting and tensing your legs, you frantically check where to flash step, this time you decide to chance it with the window at the end of the hallway. Fucking around with doors in a panic wasn’t a good idea. One movement and you’re gone, you’re fucking gone, away from this nightmare, you feel your body vibrating as you disappear but then- then there’s a vice-like grip on your ankle, no no no, how -

You made it halfway down the corridor. You definitely managed to get away, but Jake is behind you on the floor with his hand on your ankle somehow and the other around his neck as tears stream from his eyes. He yanks hard with a loud growl, so hard that you fall onto your knees onto the threadbare carpet. The impact stings as you fall forward, using your hands to stop yourself from falling over completely. Twisting around, you try kicking at him with your other leg but he just grabs it and presses it to the ground while his nails grip so hard against the thin skin you’re sure it’s breaking. He’s upon you now, wheezing slightly as he crawls up your body, batting away your flailing limbs to settle himself upon your lower stomach, sitting just in a way that it's making it hard to breathe deeply. You lash out with your hands, your arms, anything you have and he's deflecting most of it but occasionally you get in a slap or punch but you can feel yourself weakening quickly as you realise the energy from what little you’ve eaten over the past couple of days is fading fast. To add insult to injury, Jake is laughing breathlessly as he wrestles with you, apparently having the time of his life. You take a small comfort in noticing that you’ve made him break a sweat. 

His legs encompass your own, hooking his ankles around your knees as he spreads your legs wide, effectively trapping them in place as he leans his weight on top of you. You’re very aware of his erection pressing into your stomach as he grabs both your wrists deftly in one hand and pushes your face into the floor with his other. You can't move, except to take quick shuddering breaths as he presses his weight down and rocks his hips against yours. You glare at him from behind your shades, concern for your most precious possession taking your mind as you hear the tell-tale squeak of plastic being bent out of shape. 

Jake catches his breath, flicking his hair back out of his eyes as he chuckles darkly. “Gosh, you nearly had me there! Good thing I know a thing or two about your flashy tricks.” 

You scowl into the carpet. You wriggle underneath him, trying to buck him off and he just fucking laughs as he rides your movements, pressing himself back against your crotch and fuck, you’re hard, how could you possibly be hard right now. You’re trapped underneath a complete headcase who’s signals you’d been willfully ignoring up until now. It’s like you knew.

”I’ll give you this, you’ve got more fight in you than your brother!” Jake remarks as he grinds down against your erection again and you suppress a groan. “But it's become quite clear that you Striders doth protest a bit too much.”

“Get. Off. Me.” You grind out between your teeth as you jerk your hips up sharply, dislodging Jake enough that he releases his grip on you as he falls forward with a giggle that reminds you too much of John and that fact just enrages you completely that you grab his fucking smug face between your hands and headbutt him, hard.

There’s a nauseating crunch as he rears back with a yell, you don't know whether it was his glasses or his nose, as your head spins from the pain and you can’t think let alone open your eyes. This kind of pain was blinding, hot and spreading out from your brow so unbearably that you claw at your face to try and stop it somehow, pressing down on your eyes with the palms of your hands.

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck-”

Jake’s weight upon you shifts and there’s a moment of relief where you think he's getting up, hes conceding and you actually won this fucked up tussle but then something cool presses into your cheek and you realise that he wasnt just fighting dirty, he wasnt fighting fair . How did that saying go? Something about bringing a gun to a knife fight. Except you didn't even have a knife. You carefully move a hand away and open one eye just a crack, your forehead thumping in agony, and you see Jake’s shadowy figure looming on top of you, one hand covering his nose and mouth while his eyes flash wildly. It looks like one of his lenses is missing. Good.

Jake trails the muzzle of the pistol along your jawline and you tremble at the touch, terror coiling in your gut. Hunting wildlife, your ass. He looks like he’s about to eat you alive and you’re honestly not sure to be more scared or aroused. 

”Let’s get rid of these, shall we?” 

You don't know what he's referring to until a hand brushes against your forehead and fuck, your shades are gone. There’s a small clatter somewhere above your head. You try to crane your neck to look for them but Jake taps you sharply on the forehead with the butt of the gun. 

“Eyes on me, Dave.” 

You comply.

Any resemblance to John you once saw was long gone, emerald green eyes wide and blown out as they bore deep into your own, jet-black hair sticking against his forehead. He removes the hand covering his mouth and you see that sickening grin plastered across his face, purple bruising beginning to blossom across the bridge of his nose as you realise with triumph that you got him right on the bullseye. A trickle of blood leaks from one nostril and starts dripping onto his shirt. If he noticed or even cared, he didn't show it as he just watches you with something akin to fascination, nostrils flaring with each deep breath. He’s just waiting, watching, and you can't help but let your eyes flick between his face and the gun he's casually tapping against his chin.

You’ve locked the irrational part of you into a tiny little box, because right now you didn't even want to entertain the possibility that Jake would actually shoot you. Was it even loaded? It was just a game. A test. A full body shiver trembles through you when you realise Bro and Jake were more alike than you could've ever imagined and you idly wonder how much of what John relayed to you about their relationship was actually true.

If you had thought Bro was from crazy town, this guy was the fucking mayor. 

You wondered what that made you. 

To prove your point, Jake snaps his fingers loudly which jerks you back to the moment. A large hand grasps the front of your shirt to pull your head up slightly from the ground as he spins the gun once with expertise before resting it against your lips. Your eyes widen.

“Open wide, little duck.”

”Mmph-“ you shake your head to try and protest as you thrash in bewilderment, but Jake tuts loudly as he pulls down the hammer of the pistol with a loud click that makes your whole body freeze. Your defences shatter as your mouth opens just a fraction and immediately he begins forcing it past your lips. It’s cold and unyielding as it clatters against your teeth and a part of you wonders if he’s done this to Bro, because this felt awfully fucking familiar. 

You think about grabbing the gun out of his hands but you knew it wasn’t wise to make any sudden movements especially with a goddamn gun in your mouth . Instead you submit with a moan and it tastes like, well, it tastes like metal and what you can only guess is gunpowder as the barrel presses down on your tongue and holds your mouth open. Your hands flex and find themselves grabbing at Jake’s calves, squeezing them as he pushes the gun deeper into your mouth. 

“That’s it, good boy…” Jake murmurs as he pulls it back out just a fraction, watching the movement with fascination before pressing it back in and the hard edges scrape up against the roof of your mouth. You blink rapidly to try and clear the tears watering up in your eyes because your mouth is being forced open so fucking wide your jaw is burning as he continues to fuck your mouth with a gleeful grin. You lick along the edge and lap at it with your tongue to try and lubricate it as much as possible but the angles are all wrong and it has no give, and it's not like Jake is exactly being gentle, either. But goddamn if this wasn’t hot as hell, as you pushyour hips upwards against Jake’s ass, desperate for more friction against your aching dick. God, you’re so fucked up.

Jake responds in kind by rolling his hips against yours so sensually that it drives you insane and you can't help it when you grab Jake's hands and the pistol within them and suck down the muzzle with increased fervour as moans slip past your abused lips. Jake murmurs words of encouragement but you’re so far gone you cant tell what he’s saying as he lets you take the lead, bobbing your head up and down the shaft so eagerly and it feels fucking amazing, being pinned down and being forced to take it deeper and deeper down your throat as all your worries and concerns just disappear and all that matters is this. Fuck everything else, you want this . 

Jake shifts back, still holding the gun you’re deepthroating while hooking one of your legs over his shoulder as he starts to rut against you. The sensation drives you wild and it only takes a couple of thrusts before you come hard in your pjs, gagging around the barrel as you grind desperately against Jake’s cock.

-

Something drips onto your cheek, and it’s kind of ruining your come down. You peek and see the gun muzzle a bit too close to your face for comfort, your saliva glistening thickly along the length as a drop falls onto your nose this time. Gross . Jake is watching you with what looks like admiration and definitely lust, while you slowly return to the present. You feel lightheaded. You’re not sure how much of that was because of the dull ache emanating from your forehead and what was from the absolute mindfuck of fellating a gun. 

”Oh, bravo!” Jake croons. “You took to that like a duck to water, colour me impressed. It took your brother a little more coaxing before he’d even try it.”

You don't even realise you're doing it as you try to swipe at him, and he just pushes your hand away lazily with a weary chuckle. “That’s a real sore spot, eh? Do you not like hearing that you’re as much of a whore as your brother?”

”Not particularly.” You respond, voice gravelly and sore. You need a drink. Maybe several thousand drinks. Jake lets your leg drop rather unceremoniously to the floor before he pushes himself to his feet with a small grunt. He considers you for a moment before kicking your calf.

“What?” You snap, annoyance bubbling to the surface as you’re feeling discomfort start to creep into your bones. The wet spot seeping across the front of your pants feels particularly disgusting. 

“Get up.”

”Wh-“

”As much as I’d love to fuck you into the floor, my knees wont love me for it. Get up.”

Even though you were spent, you’d be lying if that statement didn’t go straight to your groin just a little bit. Jake stands over you, twirling the soiled gun around a finger as he regards you lazily. The bulge in his shorts is alarmingly big and you’re trying not to make eye contact with it as you drag yourself to your feet, using the wall as support. Jake saunters off towards the kitchen, whistling a jaunty tune. You spare a glance towards the hallway window; it's slightly open. You could just leave. You know you don't want to. Something on the floor catches your eye and you stoop to collect your shades, quickly pocketing them before stumbling after Jake.

You expect to see him waiting on the sofa but he’s in the kitchen, having dragged one of the chairs to the side of the kitchen table. The gun is on the tabletop and he's fiddling with his belt buckle when he sees you come in. You wonder if he thought you would run. You wonder if he knew if you’d stay. The dark look in his eye and his dangerous grin makes your knees tremble as he nods with his head to the space in front of you. 

You shuffle forward without another thought and fall to your knees in front of the chair, the dull thud only barely registering in the back of your mind as you look up at him, blinking slowly.

He was utterly fascinating, a perverted concoction of a physical representation of your unrequited crush and the twisted mental state of your brother all swirled into a irresistible combination that you were just utterly helpless to resist. 

You never stood a chance.

He shucks off his jacket and hangs it across the back of the chair before pulling off his shirt, revealing the beautifully tanned skin underneath. His chest hair is thick and dark, and it makes you feel self conscious about your own thin, almost-transparent body hair. It spreads across and down his chest so neatly as your gaze follows as it dips below his waistband. He finally hooks his thumbs into his belt loops and pushes his shorts down to mid-thigh before collapsing back into the flimsy chair with such force you’re surprised it didn’t break. Just like everything else in your apartment it was a piece of shit. He gestures with one hand as he picks up the gun with the other and the intent is clear. 

No point beating about the bush, so to speak. You’re upon it instantly, grabbing the base with one hand, wrapping your lips over his head, licking and lapping the slit so eagerly that he bucks into your mouth and exclaims loudly.

“Christ alive! You’ve changed your tune, haven’t you?” 

You smirk around his cock, feeling like you finally have the upper hand. You’re the master at dick sucking. It is you. The feeling is short lived, as a hand drags through your hair once more and forces you down further onto his length, so far that it's bumping against the back of your throat and rubbing against the sore spots the gun left in its wake. You groan deeply, the noise muffled. He sets a brutal pace, forcing your head up and down so viciously, only giving you a second to breathe and recuperate before pushing you down again. You can’t swallow fast enough to stop the flow of saliva filling your mouth, but it's making it slightly easier as you manage more and more of his length with each sloppy pass. You’re making a complete mess, but you don't care. You’re starting to get the hang of it, swiping your tongue under the head in a way that makes him groan in appreciation, and he eases off enough to let you experiment a little. It definitely tastes a lot different than the gun, kind of salty but not wholly unpleasant.  You obviously know what a dick feels like, being very acquainted with your own, but you marvel at how different Jake’s is in your hands, weighty and burning hot to the touch as you wrap both your hands around his length and duck your head once more.

”John, ah , talks about you a lot, you know.” 

You stutter, gagging slightly as the statement takes you by surprise. Your eyes dart up to look at him, but Jake’s face is flushed and his eyes closed as his mouth hangs open. He’s panting heavily, your epic dick-sucking skills obviously working its magic as the muzzle of his gun keeps bumping you in the side of the head. It’s actually a little bit annoying. You squint through your blurry vision at Jake. You could almost pretend it was John, but at that thought your stomach hollows out uncomfortably. 

”He’s utterly clueless, that kid.” Jake continues, panting as he pushes your head down once more. “Years and years of listening to him prattle on about you, going on and ahh , on about how incredible and amazing you were, hah , anyone would think he was infatuated with you.”

You thump your fist against Jake’s thigh to signal him to shut the fuck up but he just chuckles.

”Trust me love, he's not interested.” His head lolls forward and he’s leering at you, your face burns hot as you consider biting down. Maybe then he’d get the hint. You run the top of his dick against your teeth as a warning but he just moans shamelessly at the sensation. Goddamn it.

”Such a shame. Unrequited love just breaks my heart.” He finally lets you up for air and you suck in a large shaky breath, drool pouring out of your mouth uncontrollably as you manage your best scowl.

“Don't pout, Dave. I’m doing you a favour.” 

You rub your throat and wipe away some of the spit dripping down your chin. “The fuck are you on about?”

”You can’t have John, so I’m giving you the next best thing. Me!” And he grins as he spreads his arms wide and looks around the room like it's the punchline to the world's funniest joke. You’re not laughing. 

His gaze flickers behind you before he twists his fingers in your hair again and pushes you so far down onto his dick that waves of pain shoot all along your jaw, white hot and aching as he holds you there, pressing the gun muzzle hard against the back of your head. He finally comes and you swallow desperately against his cock as you pull against his grip, begging for him to let you go. Your lungs are burning, tightening so painfully in your chest while all you can taste is cum and you’re going to pass out choking on some guy’s dick, maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all-

Satisfied, his hold on your head releases and you slump backwards onto your calves with a loud wheeze, gulping down air and massaging your throat while your eyes water uncontrollably. You take a few moments to recover, slumped on the floor while Jake just hums contentedly above you, pulling his shorts up and crossing one leg over the other. Using the bottom of your vest you attempt to clean some of the fluids off your face. Ugh. He says something that sounds like an affirmation, but you’re too out of it to care. You don't need his damn praise. You think about telling him to fuck off, now that he’s had his fun and ruined your life forever - seriously, how are you even going to look John in the eye after this - but as you lift your heavy head and open your mouth to do just that, you realise he’s talking to someone else.

You turn your head slowly, so slowly, as horror and heat pools in your gut until you see exactly who you expect to see standing behind you. Triangular shades tucked into the popped collar of a white polo, wild and unkempt hair just like your own and just the hint of a five o’clock shadow. Admittedly looking a little worse for wear, but it’s unmistakably him. The only hint of expression is in the tightness of his lips and the frantic bobbing of his adams apple, not taking his eyes off you for a second as Bro pushes the front door lock into place with a quiet, yet discernible click.