Archive of Our Own ^beta

Nai could be pretty nimble despite his size. He was a little on the chunkier side, although he'd prefer the term husky since he's not all soft like a jelly donut. Slipping between crowded or tight areas was far easier than many would think for him, his gut-sucking a sort of talent at times for how much leeway he could find. He moved like water, in waves and undulation that rippled through his skin. It was easy to forget his size could limit his mobility if he wasn’t careful. 

So to be stuck in the dryer after a bit too confident of a reach for a stuck pair of underwear was beyond embarrassing. 

Wiggling did little to help, his belly and sides scraping painfully against metal. It doesn’t help that the dryer is still warm, making any direct touch with steel hurt when his shirt rides up from shifting back.

He huffs and prays this isn’t how he dies. Sure, it’s a bit melodramatic to think about that right now, but a little part of him is panicked that could happen. He’s seen a few too many episodes of 1000 Ways To Die of some poor idiot getting stuck some way, somehow, and absolutely obliterating their body. There’s no way struggling by himself won’t end badly. Praying somebody came soon was better than tearing himself apart. 

Thankfully, after a few minutes of trying not to start really freaking out (his heart was only racing a little bit and his breathing had started to pick up pace), Nai hears footsteps. He’s relieved, considering Mom usually took far longer at the grocery store. Maybe she had a shorter list today. God really loved him today. 

“Ugh, Mama– I'm glad you're back early. Could you help me out? I-I thought I could squeeze back out…” He asks it in a soft whine, feeling small and grotesque at the same time. 

The footsteps stopped right up behind him, boots tapping against his knees.

“Not yer Mama, big boy.” 

God is dead. Everything is awful. 

This was worse than getting caught stuck by his Mom or Vash. 

“Nick,” Nai growled, “You should've said something–Hey!”

He choked on his spit as hands gripped at his hips, settling far more comfortably than they should. His love handles were squished and jiggled, not much of a help getting him looser. 

“Quit doing that!”

Wolfwood whistled and stilled his hands, and to Nai’s horror, saddled up closer to his rump. His bulge pressed up against his ass and Nai squawked, indignant and offended. He could feel the blood burning through his skull. 

“Nicholas,” Nai hissed out, a warning. “Get off of me right now. I'll tell your father if you don’t keep your disgusting crotch rot to yourself.” 

“Aww, you'd tell on me, lil’ bro? But I'm trying to help…” Nick cooed, petting his hands over his tailbone a bit too familiar. Too handsy. Too close. 

“In what way is this help to you?!”

Nick answered with a lilting tease in his voice, a tone that always spelled trouble. “I can get you to work up a sweat and slicken up that exit for you to pop right out.”

Nai burned from the back of his neck up to the top of his head. The nerve this boy had. He hated Roberto’s kid. Nick was so annoying. Infuriating. Always knew what to say to get under his skin and live there, rent free against his pulse. He hated how much he was throbbing between his legs, thinking of how familiar this kind of scene was to the gross hentai he watched in private. 

He takes a shaky inhale, nostrils flaring as he glares a hole into the back of the dryer. 

“Fine. Just– Make it quick.”

“Don’t worry, step-brother,” God, he could practically hear the shit-eating grin in Nick’s voice, “I’ll take good care of ya.”

The first roll of Nick’s hips against Nai’s presses him further into the dryer, his stomach free from the pressure of metal against it for a breathtaking moment, relief filling his lungs and heat swirling in his core. The rollback has Nai stifling out a grunt, stomach back against the opening ledge. His own hips follow Nick’s, chasing his warmth through jeans and pajama shorts. The only thing stopping him from following too far is the damn heated barrel of the machine. 

His step-brother is unnecessarily slow with his grinding against Nai’s ass, letting him feel the full length of his hardness through his jeans. Frustratingly, Nai can feel how tacky his shorts are getting despite the unsatisfying speed of things. 

Humiliatingly, Nai grumbles out to Nick, “Come on, go faster…” 

A chuckle echoes through the laundry room. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is my little brother feelin’ a lil’ needy?”

“Sh-Shut up.” He hisses. Nick keeps calling him that and his cunt clenches, hungry for his big brother. Nai has to bite his tongue from saying embarrassing shit out loud like that. The bastard knew damn well what he was doing, calling him little brother, when he had no right to. They weren’t even blood brothers! But all it took was Nai getting flustered about it once, and the sexual-slash-brotherly harassment just… Escalated to this. 

Strangely, Nick actually shuts up and quits being a tease. He grinds harder against Nai’s ass, picking up pace to finally hump into him, giving Nai something to yip about. Nai slaps a hand over his mouth when Nick’s boner rubs against his cunt just right, smearing slick inside the crotch of his shorts, making a disgusting mess of his already sodden garments.

What's worse is Nick’s hands, gripping at his hips and touching more of his bare skin as Nai's shirt rides up. His fingers burn where they dip into soft flesh, and Nai squirms when his older step-brother’s pinkies slip under his jammies, tucking under the fat of his belly to brush up against his fupa.

He feels like he could scream. A perverse part of him wants to squeal out, big brother, where do you think you're touching? You're too close to my pussy! We shouldn't! But he bites his lip instead, bruising the flesh from inside his mouth and suppressing a too satisfied groan. 

Nai's shorts feel utterly soaked with slick, half worried he might've pissed himself a little. Anxiety crawls up his neck, a vicious tightening in his throat. 

“Nnh-Nick– M-Mom's gonna be home soon–”

His step-brother pauses for a brief second, as if to consider their predicament, but he goes right back to humping into him like he's his personal fuck-pillow. 

“You want your big brother to cum? That what you want, Nai-Nai?” 

The whine that scrapes out of his throat echoes in the barrel he's trapped in, Nai’s ears ringing. 

“Nick, hurry up–”

“No,” He says it matter of factly, like Nai was being bad for asking such a thing. And the son of a bitch betrayer slows down, rocking into him with deep, teasing rolls of his hips, a gravely groan rumbling in the laundry room. “Not unless you beg. You want me to cum, you ask nicely.” 

Nai's head drops between his shoulders, his core trembling. His knees ache and his elbows hurt. He wanted to cum against his step-brother’s jeans so bad, but it would take so much more than humping to get him there. 

Nick was awful. The lucky bastard could cum just from rubbing himself on Nai's ass. The fucking degenerate. 

Nai needed to feel him climax against his body.

He swallowed the lump around his throat, bracing himself on shaky arms. 

“Please… Please cum.” 

“C’mon, you can do better than that. Tell me how bad you want it.” 

If Nai could strangle him, he would. He whines long and low in his throat. 

“Say it.” 

It’s a great mercy upon him that Nick can’t see his face, how red and disgustingly sweaty he is right now. 

“Please– I-I want you to cum using me, big brother. Please use my ass to get off. I want it. I want to make you feel good. I want my body to be the reason why you're getting off. Please, give me your cum, please, please, please. I need it.” 

He wanted the dryer to swallow him into the wall and drop him into an eternal abyss. 

Nick's hips rut against him, slowly picking up speed to return to the pace he was at. Nai gets tugged by his hips, his belly rippling with every pull and push. A hand stays firm and hot just above his ass, the other petting down one of Nai’s thighs, goosebumps raising over his skin. 

The hand on his thigh grips hard, nails scratching against soft skin. 

“Yeah,” Nick grunts, and oh, those fingers are inching their way into his inner thigh and brushing against the inseam of his shorts where his cunt is rubbing against. “That’s a good boy. You beg so pretty.” 

He slams his hips hard against him and Nai can feel his thighs shaking, the groan Nick releases pornographic. Nai echoes the sentiment back, sweat dripping off the side of his face and tears pricking his eyes. 

“Take it. Take it, you dirty– Little– Minx–” Nick hitches his hips once, twice, thrice– Rides out his orgasm as much as he can, palm pressed against Nai’s mound through soft fabric that itches against his pubes. When he’s finally done using Nai up, he leans back and Nai suddenly is pulled back with him, popping out of the dryer with a yelp. 

The sweat build up really did help, in the long run. 

Nai finds himself with his ass plopped on the ground between Nick’s feet. 

“Hell yeah, pop goes the weasel! Told ya I could get ya to work up a sweat.” 

Nai scowls and smacks his calf. 

“Fuck off, you’re disgusting. Now I have to clean my shorts…”

Nick leans over his back and waggles his brows at him. 

“Cute. Did I get you to cum just from humpin’ ya?”

“No, and I don’t want your filthy paws on me. I’m not cleaning your fucking boxers, either.”

“You seemed to like ‘em just fine a minute ago… I can finish you off in my room, Vash doesn’t have to know.” He tries nosing at Nai’s neck, but the blond smacks his palm into his face to push him off, red as a cherry. 

The garage door groans, Nai’s saving grace and his demise. 

“Go help Mom with the groceries, pervert.”