u/Daemon_D_Hart

Not My Brother's Keeper - 30 (Epilogue)

This is a work of fiction. All the characters in the story are over the age of 18. Not My Brother's Keeper is a dark romance involving two stepbrothers (unrelated by blood) who have trouble dealing with the overwhelming attraction they feel for each other.

Not My Brother’s Keeper

(Epilogue)

“I’ll get it,” I yell on my way to the door. Adrian is somewhere in the house, and after five years as a married couple – it still takes getting used to – we often communicate this way, while we’re busy doing things individually, but still together in a way that only living like this can make it happen.

When I come face to face with Madeline, I have no idea what to say for two, excruciatingly long, moments. All these years, she hasn’t once visited. And she wasn’t present at the wedding, either, which bothered Adrian a lot; I could tell. It was a quiet ceremony, but one that got its spotlight in a few magazines catering to art lovers. You’d think that I felt like a fish out of water, surrounded by those strangers, who were there because they knew Adrian, but it was actually quite the experience. Only artsy people would consider an ex-con to be an interesting person. Adrian didn’t hide this aspect about me; I believe he was even trying to provoke people to say something, only so he could tear into that person. Nothing like that happened. I got asked the strangest questions, but I lived. Stronger for it, even.

But I must say that nothing has prepared me to meet my mother-in-law like this. She’s older now. Her pretty eyes have many fine lines at the corners, but she has the same sunny disposition that I’ve known her for.

“Madeline,” I say, nonplussed. “Hi. I mean, please, come in.” I quickly move out of the door, realizing that I was being weird by standing there, gawking at her as if she landed at our doorstep from out of space.

“Jordan,” she says, and I can’t tell from the tone of her voice if she intends to say something cutting and unforgiving, or she’s just being polite. “Thank you.”

She steps inside gingerly, like people do when they don’t want to disturb. I inch closer to the wall so she doesn’t feel the need to go around me. One thing prison taught me is how to become aware of other people’s potential reactions. Potential for violence, mainly, but fear is just as strong a motivator.

Without a doubt, I don’t want her to be afraid of me, but if this is how she feels, there’s little I can do.

Wasting few words, I guide her to the living room, an airy space designed by Adrian, where I love to spend my time reading. Last year, I graduated from college. Adrian insisted that I should do the things I was deprived of while imprisoned, so I went back to school.

In the end, I became an accountant. Boring, I know, but I like numbers. I find them comforting, and their humdrum existence calm mine. Adrian often jokes, saying that someone in the family needs to be a pragmatist. I don’t know how much of that is true, although I am helping Adrian with keeping track of his art sales and whatnot. I do have my own practice, and a few small businesses trust me with the handling of their finances.

“Please, take a seat. I’ll go get Adrian right away,” I say politely.

“He’ll find his way here, I’m sure,” she says. “Just—please allow me to have a word with you, Jordan.”

I don’t particularly like this, but I am willing to hear what she has to say. So I take a seat across from her, the low coffee table between us as witness.

“Your father is unwell.”

I stare at her. This piece of news is not what I was expecting. “He’s getting old,” I say, for lack of anything else to say.

Madeline examines my face slowly, maybe waiting for me to express more than a simple fact of life.

“You look good, Jordan.”

“Thank you.”

I gave up on my buzz cut, replacing it with a modern fade that fits me and my dangerous allure, as Adrian says. I am quite plain, and I don’t stand out much, but Adrian is convinced I’m handsome and sometimes, he plays the fool, which is a way of saying that he pretends to be jealous. My clothes are nice, and I prefer to look like a bookkeeper rather than an ex-con, but that’s my ball and chain. People will always remember that about me. It suits me just fine.

Only not so much in the presence of my mother-in-law.

“I should go get Adrian,” I say, standing, since the silence between us is becoming uncomfortable.

“I was wrong,” Madeline says abruptly, stopping me mid-way. She’s not looking at me, but out the window, at nothing in particular. “To stay silent for all these years, instead of reaching out to you.”

I know for a fact that Adrian is in contact with her. He went as far as to ask me if I was bothered by it, even promised he’d cut ties with her forever. I told him to not even think of doing that. I like him happy.

I love him happy. It’s how I want him to stay forever. Since I’m a part of it, I’m doing my best to make sure his days are spent being happy. Funny how he prefers to be the one getting fucked now. I don’t mind it because I discovered that I have quite the knack for it.

Probably I shouldn’t think of fucking Adrian with his mom sitting in our living room.

“It’s alright,” I say. She’s struggling with her words, and I’m not interested in finding the right words for her. Whatever she needs to get off her chest, she has to do it by herself.

“Not really, no.” She’s wringing her hands, which she keeps in her lap. Her clothes are more conservative now, I notice. Somber colors that don’t match her sunny disposition that well. But, to be fair, she seems to have changed some, now that I can observe her closely after so many years of no communication.

“What’s on your mind, Madeline?” I ask her directly.

She gives me a sharp look. “You’re free to be mad at me,” she says.

“I’m not mad at you.”

“You saved Adrian that night.”

I shrug. “I did what I had to.”

“Not many would have been capable of--” she stops.

“Of killing somebody in cold blood,” I say, tonelessly. “It’s how the prosecutor presented the case.”

“That was wrong of him to say.”

I shrug again. “The man needed a win against the violence on our streets. So I heard.”

“Don’t you hate it? Him?” Madeline asks, leaning slightly forward.

I’m on my feet now, so inadvertently, I hover. Not the best look on an ex-con, but it is what it is.

“What’s the point? You shall not kill. I paid for it.”

She shakes her head. “Your father… he didn’t raise you very well, did he?”

“What is it that you want from me, Madeline?” I repeat her name, to draw her attention to the fact that she came here, in search of something. As long as I don’t know what that is, I can’t give it to her.

“Would you come see your father?”

Ah, so it is all about that.

“I’m busy,” I say in a neutral tone. “Don’t tell me he asked for me. For his faggot son.” I use such a harsh word in her presence to remind her who my father is.

“He didn’t. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t need you.”

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Look,” I begin, “I’m sure you have the best intentions in mind, but he definitely doesn’t need me. Adrian is a lot like you, trying to get people to be good.” I chuckle and shake my head. “But I’m afraid that seeing me might make my father sick. Since he’s already ill, it won’t help.”

“He needs your forgiveness.”

Now this is something that gives me pause. “Sorry, what?”

“Yes. I know he doesn’t say it--”

“Madeline, he doesn’t say it because he doesn’t think it. Trust me, I know him well. And yes, he is your husband, but that doesn’t mean anything to me, with all due respect. I bet he’s never showed his ugly side to you. I mean, I hope he hasn’t. But with me, all he’s ever had was poison.”

She looks down. “He’s a religious man.”

“That he is.”

“And he wronged you.”

“I don’t care. There’s no point to insist. If I make the mistake to go see him, he’s going to have a fit. While it’s the same to me,” I say in an equal, monotonous voice, “I think it’s going to affect you. So let’s not make a big thing out of it. If there is anything we can help you with,” I emphasize the ‘we’, “such as money or other things, just let us know.”

“Jordan,” she says, and her voice is heartfelt now.

I stop again, though I’m itching to get Adrian so she can stop this conversation that leads nowhere.

“I can’t pretend that I understand you. I am still afraid that you are a very dangerous man, and that my son, my only son whom I love more than myself and my life, made a terrible choice by marrying you.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” I say.

Maybe she is right. Maybe I am a dangerous man. But she’s wrong about the other part. Even I have sometimes trouble believing how well Adrian and I work together. We’ve seen marriages of our friends crush and burn over the years, but we’re only going stronger. I know my feelings for him will never fade. I have no guarantees that his will remain the same over the years, but of what I’ve seen so far, my chances look damn good. I am his muse; and not only when I’m naked, though he loves moving his paintbrushes over my bare back only to tickle me. My face on his canvas, a bit different every year, is a reminder of the treasure my life is now. He’ll paint me when I’m eighty, he says; hell, he’ll do it when I’m one hundred years old. I’m sure that will be the face of a very happy centenarian.

“Why aren’t you defending yourself?” she asks, growing frustrated with my calm.

“Because I have nothing to say, and I see no point in doing that. If anyone, ever again,” I say in the same even tone, “tries to hurt Adrian, I will hurt them tenfold. Yes, Madeline, I am dangerous, but only because I love your son. I know I can’t compete with a mother’s love, but be sure that I’m right there, close to what you feel. He’s more important to me than my own life, and I’ll give it gladly if it means that he’ll be okay.”

Madeline stares at me, wide-eyed. I don’t get a chance to hear her thoughts on my rather dispassionate confession – dispassionate in tone alone – because Adrian walks in.

“Mom,” he exclaims and comes to hug her. “I hope you weren’t bothering Jordan with stupid questions.” He gives me a pointed look, and I relax. He doesn’t want us to fight, and he’s my lord and master.

“Would you like some coffee?” I say. “I’ll go make some.”

I leave them alone, but I hear their voices from the kitchen. Adrian keeps scolding his mom and telling her she should love me like her own son. She doesn’t outright deny his request. She says something along the lines that I look very handsome now. At least that’s a safe compliment she can use when it comes to me and my dangerous self.

The rest of her visit is spent rather normally for how it started. She promises to come again, and even exchanges a few polite sentences with me.

Once the door is closed behind her, and we’re alone again, Adrian hugs me tightly from behind. “Thank you, Jo,” he says.

“For what?”

“For being nice to her.”

“It’s easy to be nice to her. She’s a nice lady.”

He huffs and bites my ear. “For the longest time, she ignored you. I’m telling you. She won’t have it easy. I’m going to make her work hard to win you over.”

“You don’t have to do that. She doesn’t, either. Just say the word, and I’ll be the perfect son-in-law.”

Adrian laughs and kisses the side of my neck. “You know what’s hot, Jo?”

“I won’t know until you tell me.”

“That everyone is so scared of you--”

“Really? What did I do?” Besides killing someone for the man I love.

“Shut up, you’re interrupting me, while I’m getting ready for a little speech that will get you in my bed.”

“Oh, sorry, if it’s like that, please continue.”

Adrian nudges closer, though that’s a tough call seeing how he’s plastered against me. “They think you’re wild and crazy and a psycho. And they’re right.”

“Oh, really?” I grin, though he can’t see me.

“Satisfied with yourself much? They are right, but they don’t understand that you’re my wild, crazy, psycho brother.”

“And husband,” I remind him, chuckling and wrapping my arms awkwardly around him, due to our position.

“Yep. You’re my psycho,” he repeats, “and it’s like I’m having this guardian, this wild, untamed creature that will never let anyone hurt me.”

“One hundred percent true,” I agree.

Adrian laughs again, tickling my skin. “Good. Come on, wild thing. Let’s get to bed. I’ve gone unfucked for way too many hours now.”

I follow him to the bedroom. My step is light. My role in the world, why I am here, is all clear to me, and I will never accept another duty for as long as I’m alive.

I am my brother’s keeper.

~end

AN: This was it, this was the story. Thank you for being here. In case you'd like to have this as an ebook, I did publish it here.

u/Daemon_D_Hart — 9 days ago

▲ 9 r/gaystories

Not My Brother's Keeper - 28

Not My Brother’s Keeper

We roll on the bed until I have him trapped under me. “You’re crazy,” I tell him, searching his face for any signs that he might be having second thoughts. All I see is his smile.

He goads me to continue. “I’ve entertained the craziest fantasies about you, Jo. I imagined that you got really bulky, put on a ton of mean muscles, and that you escape from jail so you can break into my house and fuck me.”

“Wow. You are truly crazier than me.”

“Isn’t that why you love me?”

He teases me, and I understand. I didn’t say it, either, not like I should have.

“It’s part of the charm.” I’m not beyond teasing him, either, because this happy banter between us serves to calm my nerves. “Tell me more about your crazy fantasy with your delinquent brother and boyfriend.”

When he came to our house with his mom, I detested the idea of having a brother. But I’m glad he is my brother and not anyone else.

“You were really strong,” Adrian whispers, running his fingers over my arms. “And you tied me up, while telling me that you came to collect your payment for your years of imprisonment.”

“Is this something you’d like? To be tied up?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t tried it. Didn’t I tell you I’ve had a really boring life for the last ten years? Especially my sex life was dull. That was why I kept fantasizing about you.”

“And after I tied you up, what happened next?” I keep him down, pressing my crotch against his. It strikes me how stronger than him I am now. I may not be the bulky brute from his fantasies, but I’m pretty strong.

“You had your way with me.”

“Is this really the moment where you get shy?” I move closer and tease his lips, biting them. My decade of loneliness is over, but I need to be careful so I don’t go crazy with wanting him too much.

He responds to my kisses, kissing back. “You held me by the hair and fucked me from behind. It hurt but it felt good, too. You fucked me until I cried and begged.”

“Shit,” I say. “I’d never hurt you, Adrian.”

“I know. You didn’t let me finish. I didn’t beg you to let me go. I begged you to go harder, make it hurt better.”

I understand what he means. Loving him has hurt me plenty of times in the past. Maybe getting kinky is the solution for two crazy mofos like us.

“I want you like crazy,” I confess. My cock is so hard, it might get permanent damage if I don’t do something about it and fast.

“Then fuck me,” Adrian says and bites my lips.

I give him enough freedom so I can turn him with his back to me. Things happen in a blur. I undress him while we exchange kisses. I cover every patch of his skin with my lips, my teeth, my tongue. He has no idea how it feeds my passion to have him surrender to me little by little.

His skin tastes like the best kind of spice. I lick a trail down his spine and bite each of his butt cheeks. When I open them, I dive right in. During my lonely nights, how many times have I revisited this experience, rimming him and having his asshole so close for penetration?

Adrian hasn’t been the only one with crazy fantasies. I didn’t get close to anyone and didn’t let anyone get too close to me, either, but I jerked off an impressive number of times. It’s a common pastime for people deprived of their freedom with not much to do on their hands. So they jerk off. I jerked off, too.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “So deep. Jo, did you train your tongue, too?” He reaches for my head and gets frustrated that my hair is too short so he can’t punish me over imagined sins.

I take a break from licking his tasty ass so I can put his mind at ease. “Yours is the only ass I’ve ever licked.”

Adrian snickers. “You got better at dirty talk, Jo. A good boy like you.”

“I’m not good,” I tell him, ready to go back to my delicious task.

“Then aren’t you afraid you won’t go to heaven?”

I don’t mean to launch myself in a debate over the evolution of my faith, so I keep it short. “Heaven is here,” I say. “It’s having your ass in my face like this.”

Adrian groans and pushes his ass back, letting me know how much he approves of my confession. So I lick his hole, I pull at his beautiful mounds and reach as deep as I can with my tongue, until I have him drop a string of expletives that stop making sense.

No matter how wet his ass got from all my rimming, I’m not going to go in like this.

“Do you have any lube?”

Adrian stares at me over his shoulder. “Fuck, I forgot.”

I sighed and drop back. “Any sort of lotion? Hand cream?”

“Can’t you just do it?” he asks.

“Don’t be stupid. It’s going to hurt.”

The look he gives me is something else.

“Adrian,” I warn him, “fantasies are one thing, reality another. My dick is bursting, but I’m not going to hurt you.”

He laughs and jumps off the bed. He’s quick as he rummages through his nightstand drawer and throws a plastic tube at me, which I catch right away.

“Were you curious if I’d fuck you without lube?”

Adrian shrugs and drops on the bed on all fours. He wiggles his butt at me, as if I’d need any incentive to fuck his lovely asshole.

“A bit,” he admits. “I wouldn’t have complained,” he adds.

“Sure,” I say. “Let’s see the tune you’re going to sing once I put my cock in you.”

I did stay chaste for the sake of Adrian’s love, but I’ve seen enough. Prison doesn’t give you much privacy, not to mention that some people get off on putting themselves on full display. Better than porn, what can I say?

And it made my fantasies of having Adrian all to myself all the more vivid. In a twisted way that I take full responsibility for, I’ve practiced – mentally – for this moment.

Still, Adrian’s ass is so shockingly tight as I try to open it with my fingers and plenty of lube. I mean it, every word about how I don’t want to hurt him. His suffering is the last thing on my mind, and I can’t begin to imagine that I’d ever be the source of his unhappiness.

“Are you going to take all day?”

He scolds me because he has no idea what goes through my head.

“You’re tight,” I say.

Adrian turns and pushes me on my back. He’s too quick for me to react; he straddles me, positions my cock at his backdoor and pushes himself down.

I think I’m going to die. The grip of his ass on my cock is pure heaven, and I mean it. There’s no way I can hold back. Only his soft moan of pain brings me back to reality. I try to help him get up, but he slaps my hand and pushes me down.

And he wraps his hands around my neck. My instincts shout at me, but I make them calm down; this is Adrian, not some fucker trying to mess with me.

His grip is tight, but not tight enough to hurt.

“You,” he tells me, boring his eyes into mine, “will blow inside me. I’m going to milk you of all your cum, and I’m not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. Nod.” I do. “Good. You’re mine now.”

He talks big, but he can’t move much now that he managed to get half of my hard cock inside him. I wrap a hand on his hair and we keep each other pinned at arm’s length, only so we can stare at each other while we fuck.

My hips know better than me what to do. I start moving, and a full display of emotions dances on Adrian’s face. Yes, he is hurting but he demands it by pushing his ass down to meet my move.

It’s wild, the way we end up making love. My cock hurts, too. After all, everything it’s ever known was my hand, not this grip burning like a furnace. Adrian digs his fingers into my throat and drops over me, forcing my mouth open to kiss me.

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine,” he keeps chanting.

The way he claims me is everything. I can’t imagine ever being anything else but his possession. My life, the last decade, the empty years before I met him, don’t matter. Moments of happiness are all we got, after all.

Only that this time, I know it’s going to last. By doing this, by claiming me so completely and openly, Adrian takes on a burden and a responsibility. I’ll never be anything else but his, and his alone.

Tears pour down his cheeks, and I crane my neck so I can reach his face and lick them all. Adrian responds by kissing me hard. He gives up on choking me so he can run his blunt fingernails over my scalp.

And not once he stops slamming his ass down on my cock. The bed shakes under us, but we can’t give a damn.

“Fuck, I’m close,” I warn him.

“Do it, Jo,” Adrian orders. “Do it as deep as you can. Fuck me.”

I hold him down as I blow my load. My nuts must be getting all shriveled up as I come hard. My entire body is part of it. There isn’t a cell in my body that doesn’t love Adrian to the extreme. And now I get to mark him by shooting all my jizz inside him. He may not realize it right now, but now that I know how great it feels to be balls deep in him, I’m going to keep him on all fours, eagle-spread, on top of me, in all the possible sex positions ever invented by humankind all the time.

I spank one of his ass cheeks and squeeze it as I come for what seems like forever. It’s only my need to breathe that eventually stops me. Adrian remains impaled on my cock and continues to kiss my face, gently now that I’m no longer moving. I just lie there, surrendered to him, and he takes his fill of me.

“Come here,” I say in a ragged voice once I’m able to talk.

“I am here,” he says, his voice just as fucked up as mine.

“No, come with your cock here. I want to suck you off.”

It looks like Adrian prefers to remain stuck in my cock, but I coax him gently to move. Some of my cum pours down my cock and my balls, and Adrian huffs, feeling it, too.

“I wanted to keep it all inside me. It’s only your fault.”

“I assume full responsibility,” I reply. “Come on, brother,” I tease him, “fuck my mouth.”

That’s pretty much all he needs to hear from me. He’s quick to straddle my chest and feed me his hard cock.

“I wanted to come from you fucking me,” he says.

“It will happen,” I assure him and hold him by the hips while he pushes his cock through my lips.

I’ve missed this, as well – the sensation of having him all to myself, all his cock inside my mouth. Adrian enjoys it, too, because he moans and curses. For how many years has he waited for me and my mouth on his cock? I didn’t ask him when he got his divorce. I’m sure he’ll tell me, but there’s no hurry.

All I need to do right now is to have him so hard, alive and pulsing in my mouth. His cock is as tasty as I remember. It also leaks a little, so I get plenty of his precum on my tongue. Delicious. I can’t get enough.

The slurping sounds that escape me while I’m sucking his cock drive Adrian mad. He’s really into it, so much so that he gives me a play-by-play while I’m doing the work.

“Like this, fuck, Jo, you’re so fucking crazy. Why do you have to be so good? You’d better tell me the truth about not getting any in prison, ‘cause I’m going to have your balls if you lied to me.”

He is so possessive of me, and I can’t get enough, just as I can’t get enough of his cock. The position is not the best one, but I swallow as much as I can, until Adrian changes position and begins fucking my mouth for real.

Without a doubt, I’m going to end up with a sore jaw, but I don’t mind it. Compared to all that I’ve endured in my life to get to this point, this is nothing. No, wrong of me to misjudge it like this. This is a blessing. Yeah, Adrian’s cock in my mouth is a blessing.

My faith is what helped me endure the lonely years. It’s a thing between me and the Big Guy upstairs. But Adrian is my religion, and my choice. My one and only choice.

When he comes down my throat, I swallow everything. The only regret I have is that I can’t taste his cum properly like this, but we have time to do it all. Call me an optimist, because it is what I’ve become.

***

We sleep until it’s dark outside. Just seeing the world through the window feels so strange. After so many years spent trapped inside a big box with criminals, so much freedom is overwhelming.

Adrian stirs in his sleep, and I kiss his forehead to chase away any bad dreams he may still have.

“What time is it?” he asks.

“I have no idea. Late.”

“We should eat something. Ah, fuck, I forgot about the food.”

I sniff the air. “Nothing smells like it’s burning. Unless we died in a fire, and now we’re in heaven.”

Adrian slaps my chest and straightens up. “I only left it on the table, not in the oven, dummy. So I guess it’s spoiled by now.”

“I can go hungry until tomorrow,” I say.

Adrian laughs. “Like I’d let that happen. We’ll go out. Or order in. What do you prefer?”

I’m still getting used to being out in the open after spending the life of a trapped animal. But for Adrian’s sake, I’m turning a new leaf.

“Let’s go out,” I say. “But nowhere fancy, ‘cause my clothes are crap, and I’m going to cramp your style.”

He cuddles by my side and kisses my cheek. “I have a full wardrobe just for you. Let’s see how you look in your new clothes.”

This also takes me back, during our freshman year, when he helped me choose proper clothes so I didn’t up looking like a country bumpkin.

“Sure, why not? Treat me like your personal doll.”

“I will,” Adrian promises me and takes my hand to pull me out of bed.

tbc

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u/Daemon_D_Hart — 23 days ago

▲ 5 r/gaystories

Not My Brother's Keeper - 24

Not My Brother’s Keeper

“I’m really pissed at you, you know,” Adrian told me several weeks later, when I was finally a bit better. Apparently, a life spent dealing with my dad’s violence had turned me into a sturdy creature. I healed well and fast.

“Why?” I knew why, but I wanted to let him say it and get it off his chest. I really needed him to let it go.

“You should’ve reported him, make him swallow his fucking words. For fuck’s sake, Jo, do I have to tell you violence is bad?”

We were renting a small studio apartment over the summer, and I worked at a supermarket. Adrian didn’t need to work since his mom sent him money – though they weren’t on good terms since the incident with my dad. He continued to dedicate himself to his art, sketching furiously at times. From time to time, he landed a gig creating designs for various clients, small but generous, such as local bars and clubs, or websites launching new products. I was faced with another reality concerning the two of us. While he actually worked only a small fraction of the time and much less compared to me, he still brought in more money. His talent shone through, even so early in his career. It was my understanding that he still allowed his mom to help him financially, because he didn’t want to cut ties with her.

And he had no reason to do that, because Madeline wasn’t at fault for what happened in any way. She even called to apologize to me, though she had nothing to apologize for. Adrian, however, thought differently. He now hated my dad openly, and I was doing my damnedest to make him understand that it wasn’t a good idea.

I still had no idea who told my dad about us. I had no idea what he knew, besides the bits and pieces he’d let me know that day. It seemed that he only knew that I was dragging Adrian down with me, forcing him to live in sin. Sure, Adrian had made it all clear to my dad that I was the one taking it up the ass, therefore he now had a good image of what was happening with us.

It bothered me. I had to know who tattled to him. Could it be one of the students? But how? And why? As far as I knew, Adrian and I were the only people from my hometown attending our college, and no matter how much I wrecked my brains, I couldn’t recall seeing any familiar faces around.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Adrian poked me in the ribs, though he knew I was still hurting from time to time. That was his way to make me pay attention.

I was lying on the sofa and he was kneeling by my side, his face close to mine. At times like that, I wondered what he could possibly see in me. He kept telling me I was pretty, and I knew I had a decent face – one thing I got from my mother, after all – but in my book, that was hardly a reason for him to become so taken with me. There were other guys in the world, guys with less baggage than me. Or maybe he liked a bit of pain in his sandwich, and I was just the right combination.

“What should I say? It would’ve only made things worse. It’s water under the bridge, anyway. Don’t let it bother you.”

Adrian leaned closer. “When do you have to leave for work?”

“Not for a couple of hours. Why?”

“I want to show you something.”

He dragged me off the sofa and pulled me along until I was at the desk.

“What am I looking at?”

He opened his laptop with a flourish. I was stunned for a couple of moments. Though he preferred pen and paper, so to speak, it looked like he had gone the digital way.

That was me. My face. Encased in an elaborate frame with flowers, patches of colors, all kinds of shapes I couldn’t describe because it required me to know more about art than I knew. The most stunning part of Adrian’s piece of art was that it appeared to have come together from dashes of paint – digital paint, but still – with no actual sketch behind. There were no lines, anywhere, but I knew that was me.

And it wasn’t simply me. My eyes were closed, and my eyebrows knitted together in a frown. The corners of my mouth pulled downward, and there was a darkness coming off the painting which I couldn’t quite define. It was as if he’d seen the essence of my soul and poured it inside his art.

That was me, the real me, and it shattered my core to understand that Adrian truly saw me with his artist eyes.

He rested his forearms on my shoulders and angled his head to press his cheek against mine.

“What do you think, Jo?”

I was speechless. It had to be his best work to date. I didn’t want him to think that it was getting to my head that he enjoyed painting me so much. But I had to give him credit for making such an astonishing thing.

“It’s amazing.”

“Really?” he teased me. “Is it you?”

I nodded. I couldn’t bring myself to say it, to ask how he could see so much of me when I was someone else to the entire world.

“I took your advice,” he said, moving away.

I noticed only then the slick large device connected to the laptop. It was a huge screen that lit up and Adrian did a quick demonstration of adding a few details to the painting by moving a pen over it.

“It helps a lot, especially with corrections,” he said.

“Was it expensive?”

Adrian shrugged. “I had enough money, and that’s the only thing that matters, right?”

“You’re right. I’m glad you did that.”

Adrian observed me closely. “Are you sad?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Why would I be?”

It was too early for me to tell him how much I loved him because he could see me, the real me, without knowing that later it would be too late.

“You look sad,” he insisted, brushing my hair away from my forehead.

“This is my usual face. Morose by nature.” My joke fell flat.

He took my hands in his and then kissed me. I heard him closing the laptop, and I regretted that he seemed to be sorry for showing me that.

I was becoming more and more aware of how fortunate I was to have him all to myself when he could have anyone he chose.

Our lovemaking had become tender lately, mainly because of my healing ribs, and I was alright with it. Still, a part of me wanted to endure more punishment at Adrian’s hands because it would wash me clean. Of what? My sins, perhaps.

Adrian pushed me back toward the sofa. He was a giving lover, as I had come to realize. Once he’d decided on me, that he liked me better than anyone else, he did everything for me. I was hardly an invalid, but he batted away my hands when I tried to help by lowering my sweatpants.

He did it all, and he enjoyed doing it all. I have to admit that he was truly adept at making a man come undone. Though I was trying to protect myself by not giving in completely, that was a tall order once Adrian set himself to work.

In one go, my cock disappeared inside his mouth. In the past, being already too smitten with him, it’d been hard to focus on the technique itself. But now, I could tell that, like in his art, he was improving a great deal.

Actually, he was getting better at deepthroating me. It was so good that my skin broke into goosebumps everywhere. Adrian had worked to nullify his gag reflex so much that I could feel my cock in his throat, getting squeezed from all sides. Damn, that feeling, that sensation was everything. I still think of it while I jerk off. Nothing would compare, ever. Since I never fucked him, so his ass wasn’t up for comparison. I’m sure I would’ve love them both the same, his ass and his throat.

I groaned and complained that he was too good for me to last. Under Adrian’s encouragements, I was learning about the importance of being vocal while having sex. It had felt so weird in the beginning. Are there people in the world who do this naturally? This is what I was wondering back then.

For me, it was learned. It all had to be learned, but I had grown up with a handicap, twisted and void of a good part of me. Lack of empathy could rise from that sort of upbringing. I wouldn’t call it that; just a selective lack of empathy in my case. After all, it’s better to save what you have in short supply for those who deserve it, right?

Adrian was moving his lips over my cock, over and over. He enjoyed doing this thing, starting from the root and pulling with his lips, creating suction while he moved toward the tip. I think I was oozing so much precum when he did that because he once complained playfully about it. Seeing my face, he’d sneak closer and whisper in my ear that he loved it, he loved my cum and wanted to have even my precum, though it was salty and so much because I couldn’t help myself and most likely enjoyed doing all that in his mouth.

Yeah, he was definitely better than me at dirty talk.

And now, he was on his knees in front of me, performing beautifully and sucking my cock. From time to time, he abandoned it in favor of licking my balls. Adrian gave himself completely, like he was in a trance when he sucked cock. I cannot bear the thought of him doing the same with other people.

He didn’t stop for a moment. He took me deep and opened his eyes to give me a look that conveyed everything, how much he enjoyed doing that, mostly. I came down his throat while losing myself in his beautiful eyes.

“Satisfied?” he asked once I managed to breathe more normally.

I only nodded.

He grinned and got up. “How about you put your ass up then? I need to come inside you.”

Adrian said such things like they were the most normal in the world, and I lived for it. So I adjusted my position, turning quickly and lowering my pants even more. I got so used to his dicking that we didn’t even need a lot as far as preparation went.

Never again have I ever allowed anyone else to do that to me. Whether brief associations, or friendships for life, they never mattered as much as it mattered that Adrian loved doing that to me.

One thing I loved but didn’t dare to admit it out loud was when Adrian chose to spank me during fucking. His cock went deep inside me, and my body welcomed him because it knew him so well. I could hear his labored breathing as he pumped into my ass. His first slap took me by surprise, but then I breathed out in relief. Adrian had a very specific way of doing this. After he landed a slap, he cupped his hand over the reddened spot, squeezing it, while he moaned in appreciation.

Yeah, he had a thing for my ass. It made me curious what he could see in it that would be so different from all the pussy he’d had in his life. But it was different, and it did matter because he wasn’t the sort of guy to do things by half.

“I can’t get enough,” he whispered. “Fuck, Jo, if only your dad saw you taking it up the ass.”

My ass squeezed his cock hard. We were a couple of weirdos. He shouldn’t have mentioned my sanctimonious father, and I shouldn’t have gotten hard over him talking like that.

But it did give me a deep, dark satisfaction to use my religious dad in that manner, to have him immobilized, with toothpicks holding his eyelids open, so he had no choice but to witness his son taking it up the ass, like Adrian said.

Yeah, as I said, we got each other freak on and getting right on it.

Adrian came deep inside me, slapping my ass a couple more times. I’d feel it later, that spot he preferred, sore and hurting a bit. At work, when I rested, at any moment, I’d feel it, and it would make me feel so proud.

He held me over his lap afterwards. One thing he appeared to enjoy a great deal was to play with his own cum in my ass. His fingers moved in and out and he spread his jizz around my asshole until it got all absorbed. It was his way of claiming me, and I was more than alright with it.

“Is it going to be hard for you to stack those shelves with a broken ass?”

I snorted at his lame joke. “Is this what a broken ass looks like to you?”

Adrian laughed, throwing his head back. I still had a hard-on, so I adjusted my position, making sure to poke him in the thigh with it.

He slapped my naked ass again but not so hard this time. “You’re insatiable, aren’t you, Jo?”

“It’s only because of you.”

“Good, that was my plan all along. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for work?”

“Fuck off, I still have a hard dick.”

He laughed and allowed me to get to my feet. I clenched my butt cheeks to keep his jizz inside me while he blew me again, taking his time now and teasing me until I was a blabbering mess.

When Adrian showed me my own cum in his mouth, coating his tongue, I knew I’d never love anyone else the way I loved him back then.

Because you only get to love, truly love, once in your life. It doesn’t have to be the first time, but it matters to be the last.

For me, he was both.

tbc

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u/Daemon_D_Hart — 2 months ago

▲ 12 r/TheGayErotica+1 crossposts

Not My Brother’s Keeper

My stepbrother kept his word and was now talking to me outside of our dorm room. At first, we got a few odd looks here and there, especially when walking together. It was clear as day that we were different. I even distinctively heard a girl asking Adrian why he was hanging out with ‘that nerd’ when she thought I was out of earshot. Nerd was a term I could live with. At least I was no longer the weird guy who preferred bible study to smoking and shooting the breeze, as I had used to be back home. All those guys and gals in my hometown, they should’ve known it was my father’s fault that I wasn’t spending time with them, though I have to admit I had developed a superiority complex from a young age, comparing myself to them and finding them lacking basic intellectual skills.

We threw ourselves into our studies, Adrian out of passion, me out of necessity. Although we didn’t have sex again for a while, there was a tacit understanding between us now. We talked, and we spent hours in silence, bent over our sketches and textbooks. And we were, to an extent, I like to believe, quite happy.

Adrian didn’t mention again that I should come out to my father. I was content with that, because I couldn’t picture myself in that position. For all my determination to do things my way, there were strings holding me back, strings that stretched between me and the home I wanted so desperately to leave behind.

“So, you two are brothers?” A chick in goth makeup and shredded jeans stopped in front of us as we were enjoying a quick lunch on a bench in the quad.

“Yeah, why?” Adrian asked. I always let him speak when people talked to us, because he was the socially-adapted one. While I was, well, the opposite.

“You don’t look alike at all.”

“We’re actually--” I started, but Adrian stopped me by wrapping one arm around my shoulders and pressing his cheek against mine.

“Are you sure we’re not alike at all? Look closer,” he said to the girl.

She did lean forward. Didn’t she realize Adrian was making fun of her? She was cute in that punk way chicks who rebel against the norms are. Her whole attitude and clothes and makeup were screaming ‘don’t call me beautiful’, when they were all perks to make her stand out.

“Nope,” she concluded. “I’m not calling your mom names, but seriously, you two can’t have more than one parent in common. Biological parent,” she added quickly.

So she was smart, too.

“Also,” she added, “you two look more like a couple than brothers.”

That gave me pause. The skin on the back of my neck pricked unpleasantly and I tried to pull away from Adrian. He was too close, and we were making people talk.

“For real?” Adrian asked, drawling the word. “Then you wouldn’t be shocked at all if we did this, right?”

I had no idea what he meant until he turned his face to mine. I pulled back in terror. “What the hell?” I murmured, pushing Adrian away.

“Ah,” the girl snapped her fingers, “you must be stepbrothers. Whose mommy married whose daddy?” She looked completely unfazed that Adrian had been about to kiss me. In public. In broad daylight.

Unlike me; I was barely keeping from shaking, and the physical reaction I was having took me by surprise. If it all had been in my head, then I would’ve managed somehow to deal with it. But my problems and hang-ups ran deep, and they were beyond my control. The truth was: I was reeling from a simple touch and a joke. Adrian was known on campus as being unconventional, in the way artists always get away with, so if he’d just kissed a guy out of the blue, no one would’ve batted an eye. Even if that guy happened to be his stepbrother.

Adrian, shocked and hurt by my reaction, didn’t reply. He was staring into my eyes, conveying without words that punishment waited for me. I stared back, helpless and angry.

“His mom married my dad,” I said, without tearing my eyes off Adrian. We were starting to fight that very moment, and the goth girl just happened to be a witness to our drama.

“Cool. So you get along?”

Either she was tone-deaf when it came to social cues, or something else was happening.

“Not really, no,” Adrian said and pulled away from me. “Actually,” he said, pushing himself up and offering the girl his arm in an exaggerated old-fashioned way, “I was barely waiting for someone to come along and save me from this bore.” He threw the word at me, along with a hard stare, over his shoulder.

My punishment was starting. He continued to look at me, long enough that the girl, now hanging on his arm, gave him a questioning look. Then, her eyes moved to me, asking the same silent question.

I couldn’t answer that, not because it was a stranger asking, but because I was still frozen in place, unable to do or say anything. Adrian was waiting for me to do something, to prove my undying love or simply admit the fact that we were together now. I would prove it to him eventually, and it would be done in such an unequivocal manner that he’d never doubt me or my feelings again. As much good as that would do to us, but when you are left with no choice, you discover quickly that making yours is not hard at all.

“Let’s do something fun,” Adrian said to the girl, pulling her along and moving away from me.

I’d never get used to watching him go. But while in that moment, it all seemed possible, him coming back, telling me it was only a cruel joke he was playing, me calling after him and telling the girl Adrian was mine, stepbrother or not, it wouldn’t be forever that way. We waste so much when we are young: time, feelings, words, silences.

***

Adrian returned late. I was still studying, wanting to blame staying up late on needing to do that, so I could talk to him. If he’d never come back, I would’ve stayed up all night.

“Listen,” I started without looking at him, still pretending to be absorbed by my textbooks, “you can do whatever you want. Just don’t humiliate me in public again. Is that okay with you?”

He stopped, whatever was that he was doing. “Jo, are you for real?” He wasn’t taunting me; what I read in his words was curiosity and a bit of shock.

“Yes, as real as I can be. You’re not tied to me.”

Stupid young me, hoping he’d relent in front of my so-called indifference and give me what I wanted, despite me saying the opposite of it.

“You’re positively mental,” he accused. He began undressing.

When he threw his t-shirt at my head, I didn’t dodge. The smell of his sweat – his post-sex sweat – hit me.

“Did you sleep with her?” I asked.

“Does it matter? You just said I wasn’t tied to you.”

“You did. I hope you’re not imagining you can fuck me after you just fucked her.”

Adrian came closer. He leaned against the desk. When I stole a look at him, I saw that he was completely naked. His cock was hanging limp, and I could sense the rubbery smell of condom and spermicide. At least, he was playing safe.

“Have you ever fucked anyone raw?” I didn’t realize that the question came out of my mouth, when I thought I was just thinking it.

Adrian took one of my textbook, closed it and dropped it on the table. Then he proceeded to do the same with all of them, until they were stacked together to one side in a disorderly heap.

“Why would I answer that?” he said. “Why would I tell you anything at all ever in this life?”

His voice was filled with rancor, which surprised me because I was too inexperienced in feeling love to understand.

“You went with her.”

“You didn’t come after me. What will take, Jo? Do you want me to fuck you raw? Do you want that only if I’ve never fucked anyone else raw? What do you want from me?” He was growing gradually frustrated, putting me, as well, in a state of restlessness. And then, that fateful question: “What are we going to do, Jo?”

I pursed my lips and locked myself in stubborn silence. Adrian huffed and pushed against the stack of textbooks, making them spill over the desk and onto the floor.

“So damn childish,” I murmured under my breath. I was one to talk. However, pretending to be the grownup in the room, I started picking them up and putting them back on the desk.

I thought his little act was over, but he had something else in mind. The moment I had all my textbooks back on the desk, arranged neatly as I liked them, he returned and pushed them off and on the floor again.

His lovely green eyes were almost dark with fury. Do you know that old Chinese philosophy about yin and yang? I was cold while he was hot, I was darkness while he was light, he went and did things while I waited them to be done to me. I guess those ancient people knew a thing or two about human beings and how they function. Of course, such concepts refer to the feminine and masculine dichotomy, so I have no idea how they apply when both parts are supposed to be the same.

Hence my and Adrian’s problem. He expected me to be the same as him, and that was where he was wrong. I expected our love to be doomed because it couldn’t happen – because we were so different – when in fact, we were gravitating, drawn irresistible like a two-planet system that would either end up existing in balance, succumbing to a crash or drifting away.

We were clashing and crashing now. That was our phase.

“Are you fucking twelve?” I asked. He was trying to get a reaction out of me, and I didn’t want to give him any satisfaction. I didn’t get angry; my father had driven that out of me, and I had learned it as an important survival skill.

“No. Are you?” Adrian challenged me. It was hard to face him while he was naked like that. He was comfortable in his own body for sure. And he didn’t mind using it so he could get the upper hand in this confrontation with me.

“Definitely not. Stop being a brat.”

I grabbed my textbooks and huddled them in my arms. Giving him a triumphant look wasn’t the wisest choice. Next thing I knew, we were on the floor, wrestling with each other, my textbooks quickly becoming collateral damage in our little furious dance.

When he slapped me, it shocked me. It wasn’t even a hard slap, but it was meant to humiliate me and make me act for a bull seeing red. That was what he wanted to get out of me.

“What?” he hissed in my face. “Pretty nasty, right, Jo? Don’t look so offended, for fuck’s sake. Each time you behave like you did today, it’s a slap in my face.” He emphasized the last words. My, mine, me. These are words used by selfish people. But I didn’t mind him being selfish. I wanted him to be more than selfish.

“I can’t be that,” I said, my fury, which had been on the rise for the last half hour, subsiding already. “Out in the open like that. Adrian, I can’t.”

My honest reaction made some of his anger fade, too, but not enough. He wrestled me until I was on my belly, pressed against the floor.

“You asked me a question, Jo,” he hissed in my ear. “Unlike you, I’m going to be honest and tell you. I’ve never fucked anyone raw. But I am going to fuck you like that because you deserve it, you fucking scumbag.”

How was that a punishment? I suspected that it wouldn’t be a nice experience for me, but I still wanted it, that part of him that he’d never given anyone else.

“Aren’t you going to protest? Beg me not to do it, and I won’t,” he said, shaking me.

“Do as you please,” I whispered, and there must have been so much desire in my voice, so much want, because Adrian chuckled, making the hair on the back of my head rise in a pleasant, almost unbearable way.

He pleased to fuck me. Raw.

I didn’t pose any resistance as he took me out of my closest. We remained on the floor, so the carpet was rough under my knees and elbows as Adrian put me in a doggy-style position.

“Spit will do, fucker,” he mumbled.

Even if Adrian seemed bent on punishing me hard, he wasn’t inconsiderate enough to forego preparation completely. As much as he tried to be bad, he wasn’t good at it because it wasn’t in his nature. While I was all good and pristine on the outside, harboring dark thoughts and feelings underneath my veneer of respectability.

I knew what I was doing by not fighting back. If I’d done that, he would’ve stopped; I’m sure of it. But this way I was dragging him down with me, and as much as my conscience told me not to do it, I was too tired to fight my feelings anymore.

It was better this way, I told myself in that very moment. Adrian would see how wanting me tasted of ash and bad behavior and wouldn’t continue on that path. I’d be left with my suffering once he abandoned me, and it would all work out.

How’s that saying? When man plans, God laughs? The Big Guy surely had a field day with my bad choices because no good thought nurtured by my religious education stopped me then.

Adrian was behind me, struggling to get his cock inside my ass. He was growing frustrated because I wasn’t planning on making it easy and he wasn’t a rapist. But I loved it so much; I loved him so much. What I was thinking and feeling combined into a strange explosive cocktail, so much so that when he tried to push his cock inside me once more, I thought I’d come on the spot.

I could tell he was about to give up when I stopped him. I grabbed his hand first, that without turning; then I let go of it so I could search for his cock. Then I placed it at my backside, enjoying how silky, alive and pulsing it was in my hand and aligned it for proper entering.

“Jo,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” I said. “You wanted to fuck me raw, didn’t you?”

“Is that what you want?” Emphasis on ‘you’.

“I only want to make you happy,” I said instead of admitting the truth.

“Liar,” he accused me, but his voice had grown thick with desire as my ass started to swallow his cock slowly.

You may say that it’s psychological and all that, but sex did feel better when he took me like that. His cock slid inside me after a few more tries and more spit, and when he started moving, oh my heart…

To compensate for his lack of bad boy charm under the circumstances, he grabbed my hair. All over me, his lips over my ear, his nipples rubbing against my back, his pubes against my ass, we were closer than ever. And he kept telling me things, about how he hated me but couldn’t stop wanting me, that I was like a curse on his life but he wouldn’t bear not to have me.

I came twice. The first time happened after he was barely in for under a minute or so. The second, when he grabbed my cock and pumped it hard while slamming into me and making me see stars and heaven and all kinds of other beautiful things.

But the most beautiful was him coming hard inside me. Yes, it was the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to me until that moment.

tbc

AN: If you want to read chapters in advance or simply support me, you can do so on my SubscribeStar.

u/Daemon_D_Hart — 2 months ago