by Quin Perin
“Paul, come out please.”
“No. I told you. I’m not dressed.”
Mark strode over to the tub and wrenched the shower curtain open, and there stood his little brother, fake lashes framing his wide eyes. Mark’s gaze tracked lower and took in every inch of Paul. His torso was covered with a blouse, a sheer black number tucked into a black skirt that fluttered over his fishnet-covered thighs.
Paul’s arms flew up and covered his chest. “Don’t look at me.” Tears slipped free, and Paul closed his eyes, his body trembling.
“I have to look at you, Paulie. How could I look away?” Mark said, keeping his voice quiet. He reached for Paul, letting himself enjoy the softness of his skin and the way he trembled when Mark grazed his thumb across his cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”
Paul opened his eyes. “What?”
“Look at you. You’re fucking sexy.”
Paul scrunched his face. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” Mark pulled his hand away, suddenly needing to create some distance before he shoved Paul into the wall and fucked him senseless.
“I’m not sexy,” Paul bit out, anger flashing in his eyes. “I’m chubby and not very tall. I have acne scars, and my eyes are too big.”
“Stop.” Mark turned and grabbed the red lip gloss off the sink. He returned to Paul. “Put it on.”
Paul took the tube with a trembling hand, clutching it as if it were a lifeline. “Why?”
“Put it on, Paulie.” Even Mark was surprised at the deeper tone of voice, not a request anymore, but a command.
A command Paul obeyed.
Two
Paul stepped past Mark and stared at himself in the mirror. He kept his gaze locked onto his lips as he smeared on a layer of red gloss. His cock was already shamefully hard, and he worried about how visible his erection would be. He glanced down, and sure enough, the nylons weren’t enough to keep his cock from tenting the front of his skirt.
He turned his face to Mark. “There. Happy?”
He couldn’t bear to look at Mark another minute. He tried to move, but Mark was bigger, faster, stronger, and instead of escaping out the door as he’d intended, he found himself caged against it. One of Mark’s deliciously strong forearms tensed next to Paul.
“Turn around. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Mark’s voice was dark, delicious. It held a tone that Paul shouldn’t feel familiar with, but part of him recognized the command, and almost against his will, he turned. He didn’t want Mark to look at him. He needed Mark to see him. To see everything he felt when Mark was near.
That first night there on the couch, Paul had felt nearly happy. Mark had been so close to him, and it was all Paul could do to keep himself from laying his head in Mark’s lap. He’d gone to bed that night with a dick as hard as granite and shame the size of a mountain. Mark had taken him in; he wanted to take care of him. He didn’t want his little brother perving on him.
But Paul had always felt that way about Mark. Ever since that first day, when Paul looked up and saw Mark staring down at him. He was so big and strong, so wide and comforting. He wasn’t mean like Frank or any of Frank’s girlfriends.
Paul’s mom’s boyfriends had all been like Frank. Loud, drunk, and mean. Mark wasn’t any of those things. He was large, but soft and kind. He’d protected Paul the best he could when he was there, and Paul had missed him when he was gone.
“Look at me, Paulie.” Mark’s voice was a soft caress now. Somehow, Paul had turned and was staring at Mark’s chest. He watched it rise and fall as Mark breathed just inches from him. “Look at me.”
Paul lifted his gaze. If he lost Mark, he’d lose everything.
He couldn’t stop the tear that slipped from his eye, but he made himself stay absolutely still. Any movement made would bring Paul closer to Mark, and if Mark noticed how hard his cock was, it was over.
Mark looked him in the eye. His gaze only travelled as low as Paul’s mouth, then raised up again. “You’re so pretty.”
“What?” Paul must be dreaming. Or dead, he thought. But Mark leaned closer, his tongue slicking over his lower lip.
“You’re so fucking pretty, Paulie.”
Paul didn’t say anything. He pressed himself against the door as though he could press himself through it and appear on the other side if he tried hard enough.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mark sounded genuinely sad. “You can trust me with anything.”
“Not with this.” Paul’s voice cracked, and he squeezed his eyes shut. It would only be a matter of seconds before Mark noticed his erection. His cock leaked in his nylons, his shame fueling his desire in a way he hadn’t expected.
“With what, Paulie? With how pretty you are?” Mark leaned closer, his thigh wedging between Paul’s legs.
Paul could feel Mark’s heat through his pants, and he groaned. He sucked in a breath and bit his lower lip to keep more shameful sounds from pouring out of his traitorous mouth.
It felt like an eternity passed, then Mark leaned closer and Paul felt his erection, hard and hot and impossibly large, press against his own. Paul whimpered when Mark ground himself against Paul.
“Is that for me, pretty boy?” Mark rubbed their cocks together again.
Paul nodded, and another tear slipped free. None of this was real. He’d wake up alone again in his cum-stained sheets, rub one out in the shower, and avoid Mark as much as possible.
Mark kissed the tear off Paul’s cheek. “I’ll take care of you. You can be my pretty boy. Do you like that?”
Paul dared to raise his hands. He placed them on Mark’s chest, splaying his fingers, watching his movements as if he were in a dream. “Mark?”
“Paulie.” Mark pressed himself closer. “It’s not wrong. If you want it too, it’s not wrong. Tell me you want it. Tell me the truth.”
Seconds ticked by, and the answer stayed caught in Paul’s throat. Terror gripped him. If he gave in, they were sick. Sick and twisted and wrong. But if he said no—he couldn’t say no.
“Mark.” He dragged his gaze up to Mark’s face and looked him in the eyes, letting Mark’s words sink into him like a mantra. It’s not wrong if he wants it, too. “Please.”
The world tilted on its axis. It must have, because suddenly he was in Mark’s arms, caged against his flesh, their mouths sealed together. Mark kissed with his whole body. He pressed into the kiss, their cocks rubbing together through too many layers of clothing. His hands touched Paul in a way he’d never been touched before, with a passionate sort of reverence, like this mattered to him—really mattered—and he wanted to remember it forever. Paul could only hope that was how Mark felt, because it was how he felt about Mark.
He clung to his brother and let himself be swept away in the rightness of it all. Of being here with him, dressed as he was. And Mark called him his pretty boy. Paul had never belonged anywhere, not until he met Mark, and he hadn’t belonged anywhere since.
“Mark, please. I need you.”
Mark growled and pulled Paul tighter. He opened the bathroom door, then swept Paul up into his arms and carried him into Paul’s room. Mark laid him down on his bed and straddled him, pinning him to the mattress. Beneath Mark, he felt small and helpless, and his cock leaked more precum in his nylons.
Mark stared down at him, and Paul felt very much like prey, trapped by a predator who had every intent on playing with its meal before it was ready to consume it.
“I want your pretty mouth around my cock,” Mark said, removing his hands from Paul’s wrists and freeing his erection.
Paul stayed absolutely still, terrified that if he moved, the spell might break.
“Do you want to suck your big brother’s cock, pretty boy?”
Paul managed to nod, and though he was eager to see it, he kept his eyes on Mark’s. He was rewarded with a predatory smile, and Mark shifted his position, bringing his cock closer to Paul’s mouth.
“Open wide.”
Paul closed h
is eyes and focused on the feeling of Mark’s cock sliding over his lips, across his tongue. Paul had tasted his own precum, and Mark tasted a lot like him, bringing home the fact that he wasn’t just a hook-up. Mark was his brother. Paul opened his eyes and stared up at him, then closed his lips around Mark’s cock, caressing it with his tongue. He lifted his head, taking more of it into his mouth. Watching Mark moan and throw his head back, then reach down and grip Paul’s hair was the best moment of Paul’s life.
Finally, he was exactly where he wanted to be. He closed his eyes again and continued to worship Mark’s cock, paying special attention to the thick vein that ran up the underside and the delicate head, which was fat and delicious.
Mark pulled out of Paul’s mouth far too soon.
Paul whimpered before he could stop himself, and Mark cocked a grin. “Relax, pretty boy. I’m not going anywhere. But I want to see you; to taste you.”
Paul sucked in a trembling breath. “Promise me, Mark.” The words were out before he could stop them, but he needed to know he had Mark forever. He couldn’t do this once and give it up. Now that he knew how good happiness could feel, Paul wanted to hold onto it with both hands.
Mark stretched out over top of Paul, smothering him with his own, much firmer body. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” He leaned in and nipped Paul’s lower lip. “Mine, baby brother.” He smoothed his hand down Paul’s side. That same reverent touch was back, and Paul melted into it.
“Yours,” Paul agreed, wrapping his arms around Mark’s neck. He brushed a tentative kiss against Mark’s lips. “Now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do to me?”
Mark nipped at Paul’s lip again. The look on his face made him appear practically feral. “I’m going to make you dirty. So goddamned dirty, Paulie. What do you think of that? Me wrecking your makeup, tearing your nylons off your body, licking your tight hole until you come all over your pretty little skirt?”
Paul arched into Mark. A thrum of need coursed through him, growing with every beat of his heart. He thought he might explode.
“Do it, Mark. Do it. I’m yours.”
Three
Beneath him, Paul felt like an angel, his body soft, his eyes wide and sparkling. The ruby redness of his lips had smudged a bit, but he looked beautiful pinned under Mark. Helpless. Mark could flip him over and thrust into him, take him hard and brutal. If he wanted to, and he didn’t want to. He stood up off the bed, and Paul didn’t move.
“Good boy,” Mark said, because it felt right.
Paul had always been a good boy, doing his best to stay out of the way, to be invisible. He thought no one noticed him, but Mark did. Noticed how hard he tried to make people happy and how little they appreciated him for it.
Under his praise, Paul brightened. His apprehension was apparent, though, in the way he bit his lower lip and clutched at the blankets. Mark reached down, petting him, stroking the side of his face and running his fingers through Paul’s hair the way he’d ached to do for so long now.
“Shhh. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Mark peeled his shirt off and cast it aside.
Paul propped himself up on his elbows to watch him undress. Instead of getting fully naked, Mark reached down and grabbed his erection, feeling it grow under his touch. He gave it a squeeze and watched the way Paul’s gaze lingered.
“Come here.”
Paul wasn’t graceful. He looked half-skittish still but determined to make himself sit up. He scooted closer to Mark until he was sitting right in front of him on the edge of the bed, his mouth nearly the perfect height for Mark to slide his cock inside of it.
“Do you want this?” Mark made a show of squeezing his cock, highlighting how hard it was. He pulled the fabric tight over the wet spot that had pooled there sometime between when Paul had put the lip gloss on and when he’d been pinned to the bed, helpless.
Paul’s hands fluttered like bird wings but came for Mark’s waist. His fingers were colder than Mark expected, but he forced himself not to flinch. Paul looked up at him, asking permission with his eyes, even as he tugged Mark’s pants lower.
Mark wrapped his hand around his cock and smeared the head across Paul’s lips. Paul opened his mouth. His little pink tongue poking out made Mark throb with need.
“Do you want this?”
“Please,” Paul said, his voice small and soft.
“Please, what?” Mark asked, toying with Paul, drawing out the moment to make it last as long as possible. It would be the first of many, but it was still the first, and he wanted to savor it.
“Please, big brother. Please let me,” Paul begged, his fingers biting into the flesh of Mark’s thighs.
“Do it, Paulie. Give it a kiss.”
Paul leaned in, closing the distance. His red lips looked obscene pressed to the head of Mark’s cock.
Mark released the grip on his shaft and moved his hand to cup Paul’s head. “That’s so good, baby. Get on your knees.”
Paul whimpered and slid to the floor. Mark watched his cock disappeared inside Paul’s pretty mouth. He went as deep as he could, gagging a little. His eyes immediately teared, and he tried to take more.
“Shhh, baby, take it slow and easy. You feel too good when you gag.” Mark swiped the tears away. “I won’t last.”
The adoration in Paul’s eyes nearly took Mark to his knees. Unable to resist, he cradled Paul’s head, pulling his cock away, then bent down to kiss him. He licked his way inside Paul’s mouth, thrusting his tongue in and kissing him breathless, then straightened, allowing Paul to return to his task.
Paul gave the head a lick with the tip of his tongue. Mark closed his eyes and let himself feel the way Paul took over, gripping the base of Mark’s cock with one hand, the other bracing himself on Mark’s thigh.
Mark held Paul with both hands, cradling his head, not pushing or pulling. He let Paul set the pace, enjoying the glide of wet heat enveloping his cock. It felt good to have Paul there on his knees. Right, even. More right than having Paul down the hall avoiding him.
Mark couldn’t take it anymore. The feeling of Paul’s mouth on him had his blood boiling, demanding more from the beautiful boy on his knees at Mark’s feet.
He pulled away and stepped out of his pants, kicking them aside. His cock swung heavy between his legs, but it was his face Paul gazed at.
“Mark?” His voice was small and hesitant.
“Yeah, baby?” Mark knelt in front of Paul, grabbing his face and kissing him again, the way he’d wanted to a thousand times. It ended too soon, because Mark pulled away and gave Paul space to ask his question.
“Are you… are you going to… keep me?”
Mark grinned. Leaning in, he wedged himself between Paul’s legs, the skirt sliding up slightly as he ran his hands up Paul’s thighs. “Forever, Paulie. No one gets to touch you but me. No one looks at you but me. You’re mine.”
Paul leaned in timidly and kissed Mark on the mouth. It was the opposite of the way Mark had kissed him. Paul was shy and tentative as his lips lingered, pressing against Mark’s sweetly, then pulling away. He leaned back on the bed, and Mark took a deep breath, taking in the sight of him.
His hands slid up Paul’s legs, pushing the fabric of the skirt up around his waist. Mark kept his eyes trained on Paul as he leaned down and mouthed his cock through his nylons. Paul’s cock, covered in the tight, sheer fabric, was possibly the most beautiful thing in the world.
Eager to taste him, Mark tore the front of the nylons, and the way Paul squeaked made Mark’s cock jump. He flicked his gaze up to Paul’s face and smiled at the way his mouth was already open, his breaths coming out in harsh panting sounds—and Mark had barely started.
“Oh, baby,” Mark breathed, running his hands up the insides of Paul’s thighs. “I’m going to make this so good for you.”
Paul gasped when Mark leaned closer. His watering mouth opened, and he kissed the underside of Paul’s cock. It was average-sized, with a bit of extra girth
and a beautiful head slicked with precum. Mark kissed his way up to the glistening substance. He swirled his tongue over the head, tasting Paul. Salty. Sweet. Innocent. Wicked. His.
Mark took Paul’s cock into his mouth and slowly swallowed it down to the base. He stared up at Paul the whole time, his gaze unwavering. Paul stared back. There was a need in his eyes, naked and desperate, and Mark wanted to satisfy it.
He buried his nose against Paul’s skin, the frayed edges of the nylons visible. Mark loved the way Paul looked dressed like this. He loved the way the nylons looked torn apart; how slutty Paul looked with his cock poking out of the hole, his skirt pushed up around his waist and his lip gloss smudged.
Mark released him with a lewd, wet plop and took a deep breath. “You’re so fucking sexy, Paulie.”
“I—”
“Don’t argue, baby.” Mark kissed the leaking tip of Paul’s cock. “You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He slid his tongue over the head, taking Paul deep into his mouth again. He loved the way Paul smelled like sex and skin and a bit of vanilla. Mark ached to be inside him, or thrusting against him, rubbing against Paul’s ass. God, how he wanted this. His entire body thrummed with desire.
Unable to hold back any longer, Mark rose and slammed his lips against Paul’s. He pushed him down onto the bed, following him, pressing their bodies together. Clichéd stars exploded behind his eyes when their naked cocks brushed against each other. Mark kissed him deeply, his tongue plunging into Paul’s mouth. Paul answered back with little whimpers and throaty moans that made Mark thrust his hips harder, trapping their cocks together.
Mark straddled Paul and spit in his palm. He watched as Paul undulated beneath him, the sheer fabric of his shirt enticing Mark. With his free hand, he stroked Paul’s chest, feeling the softness of him, the hardness of his nipples, the smooth planes of his stomach. Paul wasn’t thin, which Mark loved. He loved being able to pin Paul beneath him like this and not worry that he was going to break him.
