Brothers Love_(0) by NaomiWeiss

Silas locked the door behind himself and slipped out of his necktie and belt. He strung them around the bedpost where Ian lay, in case he should need either for a restraint later. He sat on the bed and stroked Ian’s back, and the boy stirred.

“Good morning, sunshine. How are you feeling?”

Ian tried to move, but his energy ran out and he lay still, his eyes still closed.

“You’re fine, don’t try to move too much. You won’t remember very much of this until you wake up a little more. You won’t feel it until later, either.”

Silas undid his fly but nothing else as he stroked Ian’s back, gently prodding him. When Ian seemed to stir more, letting out confused little moans, Silas watched for his eyelids to flutter. It took a few minutes of gentle petting, but eventually Ian began to wake up.

His eyes opened slowly and blinked long, slow blinks. Eventually he was able to focus on Silas, sitting on the edge of the bed with one hand on his own crotch. He tried to make an effort to move away, and Silas thought he heard him mutter, “No,” but he pulled the boy closer.

“Yes, this again. You did very well before, even if you did try to bite me. But it will get easier with practice.”

Silas pulled his white slacks open enough to reveal himself, and he leaned over his brother’s face.

Ian became aware enough to turn away, but Silas grabbed a fistful of hair and turned his face back to meet Silas’s crotch.

“You’re getting good at this, so here’s where we’re going to start today.”

Silas forced Ian’s mouth open with three fingers, holding it open. With the drink still buzzing in Ian’s system, his level of resistance was weak. Silas slipped himself inside with little difficulty.

He rocked his hips back and forth until Ian began to gag and tried to turn his head away, but Silas tightened his grip on the back of Ian’s head. He pulled back to give the boy a breath, then pushed in deeper and held himself there an extra beat.

Ian raised and arm to push him away. Silas swatted it down and pressed his knee over his brother’s wrist pinning his arm, and Ian seemed to relax into the rhythm. But Silas knew it was just fatigue, not complacency, and certainly not consent or obedience.

He pushed into Ian’s mouth a few more strokes, reluctant to pull out, but he was too used to enjoying Ian’s unconscious body, and wanted him to learn to reciprocate. He pulled back and released Ian’s arm, and watched as the boy tried to distance himself from the edge of the bed where Silas stood, rubbing a hand over his wet member.

“Do you remember how far I went last time you were awake in this room?”

Ian was quiet a while, but eventually nodded.

“How far do you remember? Answer me with words.”

“Too far…” Ian whispered. It seemed as loud as his voice would go.

“Do you remember me undressing you?”

Ian nodded slowly, his eyes still seemed to be swimming.

“Do you remember anything after that?”

Ian closed his eyes, as if concentrating, but he shook his head.

Silas clicked his tongue. “That’s too bad. I guess I’ll have to start over. You’ll need something stronger to remember this time.”

Ian’s eyes snapped open, then widened in fear as Silas reached for the belt and the tie that he wasn’t wishing to use.

“I’m not going to tell you to relax, because I know you won’t. But you’re still too stoned to fight back, so I’m not too worried.”

Ian made weak attempts to push his guardian away while Silas grabbed his arms and wrapped the belt around his wrists and bound them to the bars on the headboard.

“Please… don’t…” Ian said weakly.

“I’m doing this so you’ll remember, so there’s less I have to repeat next time. I want to get to the end of this, instead of wasting my time repeating lessons. So tell me, what do you remember from before? Maybe I won’t have to jump so far ahead before your body’s ready for it.”

Fear dripped from Ian’s eyes and soaked the pillow.

“Y—you… you were on top of me.”

“Yes,” Silas nodded, his hand still on the belt buckle. “What did it feel like?”

“It felt like… a wet snake.”

“Where?”

“Between my…” He didn’t seem to want to say it.

“Inside?” Silas pushed. “Or just between.”

“Between. But it hurt like… inside. After I woke up.”

“So all you remember is me teasing myself on your cheeks. You don’t remember what I did after.”

Ian shook his head, burying it in the pillow.

“That’s too bad.” He picked up the tie and worked Ian’s jaw open again, knowing he wasn’t ready to open his mouth on command yet.

Ian fought and whimpered, trying with all his might to avoid Silas’s fingers, but his strength failed him, and Silas slipped the tie between his teeth.

“Stop complaining. I’ll have to pick up there, then, or you won’t remember next time either. And then we’ll just be here longer next time.” He finished tying the knot around Ian’s head. “Not that I’m complaining about that. I could be here with you like this all night. Listen, you’ll be glad I gave you something to bite down on in a moment.”

Ian answered with a whimper, but rather than relenting, Silas relished in the sound.

“Listen carefully. You’re going to do what I say. You won’t relax no matter what I tell you, so I won’t bother with that. But don’t try to buck me, or I won’t be gentle. This is happening, and you will let me. Am I clear?”

Silas put a hand under Ian’s chin and lifted until the boy was forced to look up at his brother.

“You will let me,” Silas repeated.

Ian blinked tears from his eyes, but didn’t try to speak through the tie.

Silas released Ian’s chin and worked on the drawstring at the boy’s waist, lifting him at the hips to do so. He slid his pants down as Ian released a quiet sob. Silas climbed on top and straddled him, pinching his cheeks through the fabric of his boxers.

Ian was tense, and Silas knew there was nothing he could do about it, so he ignored it and continued. He slid the boxers down and Ian didn’t fight, but when Silas leaned forward and let his flesh touch Ian’s—just a caress—Ian fought.

“Please don’t!” he whispered hoarsely.

Ian twisted his body, trying to wrench himself out from under Silas’s weight.

Silas pinned Ian’s arms down, then pulled on the tie at the back of his head until his neck bent backward and Ian’s noise silenced.

“You will let me,” Silas hissed. “If I just wanted to fuck you, I wouldn’t need this room. I could overpower you in your own bed and be done with you in the time it takes to mix your drink. I am training you to be complacent. Eventually, I’ll work on obedience. I don’t want your desire, or I would try to groom and seduce you, slowly over time, until you want this as much as I do. But that’s not the kind of sex I want. I want you to lie there and shut the fuck up.”

Without another word, Silas spat on his hand and rubbed himself until he was wet enough, and roughly forced his way inside his brother.

Ian let out a silent cry, spit soaking the silk tie.

Silas noticed the reaction, grinned, and pushed himself in deeper. He pulled out enough to spit again, then slid inside, smoother this time. He picked up the pace quickly, making no attempts to be gentle.

Ian began to fight, and Silas responded by pressing himself down on his brother with his full weight, which seemed to take the breath and the fight out of him.

“I told you that if you fought me I wasn’t going to be gentle. Do you believe me now, baby brother?” Silas panted.

Silas maintained a steady pace, occasionally pulling back to see how much red he was wearing. The amount wasn’t terrible—Ian had bled much more the first time, and Silas had learned to lubricate himself more.

Ian sobbed gently into the pillow, but when he seemed to have had enough, he shook his arms and tried to throw Silas off balance, which nearly worked.

Silas braced himself on his arms on either side of Ian, keeping him boxed in, and grinding his hips as hard and deep against Ian’s as he could.

Ian shouted in pain, the loudest sound he’d made since waking.

“Do you think you can get me to stop by doing that?” Silas demanded. “Lie still and let me fuck you.”

“I hate you,” he responded through the tie, voice still sounding groggy.

Silas pumped into him with shallow movements, the feeling in his gut growing more intense.

“You will, for a while. But this is still happening.”

“Why?” Ian had the nerve to ask.

Silas laughed. In spite of himself, he pulled out of his brother’s warm depths, his wet member bobbing. He let himself rest between Ian’s mounds.

“Why? Because I want to, if you couldn’t tell. And because I can.” Silas laughed again, jamming a finger into Ian’s loosened hole. “Because I dream of a day when I can lock the door to my office, stand at my desk and say to you, ‘bend over’, and you will. And you won’t do it because you’ll get off—I’ll make sure that you don’t—but because I’ll get off.”

“Never.”

“You will. How long we fight until I get you there—and you get me there,” he added with a smirk, stroking himself and smacking Ian’s cheek with it, “is up to you.”

“Never,” Ian repeated.

Silas smirked. “You can try to hang onto your ego if you want, but we both know I’m stronger. You’ll only last out against the pain for so long. If I make obeying your easier option, eventually you will roll over and offer me your body whenever I ask. But I don’t need you demanding anything from me, and that’s why it still has to hurt. I won’t be a slave to you.”

Silas untied the necktie and removed it from Ian’s mouth.

“I’m too close to getting off, and I’m not nearly done with you. So open your mouth.”

Ian shook his head.

Silas jammed three fingers into Ian’s bloody hole, and his mouth shot open. Silas grabbed a mass of hair with his other hand and pointed Ian’s face at his crotch and pushed inside.

“Don’t you dare bite me,” Silas warned. “Hear me?”

Ian’s eyes rolled up to Silas’s face, and he gagged and tried to spit, but eventually nodded.

Silas pumped slowly, pulling out at each stroke so Ian could take a breath, and to put off Silas’s own pleasure.

“You taste like shit,” Ian spat, and turned away so Silas had to jerk his face back to position.

“You mean I taste like you?” Silas taunted. He dropped Ian’s head and gave him a moment to relax, but the boy remained tense.

“Let’s practice what you’ve learned. How many of your attempts to fight me have succeeded?”

Ian answered with a glare, and Silas reached for his ass again. Ian, in a moment of panic, cowered and closed his eyes.

“Please don’t!”

“Answer me.”

“None.”

“That’s right. How many times that you’ve fought me have resulted in more pain?”

Ian lay with his eyes closed on the pillow, whimpering and shuddering.

Silas grabbed his jaw, and his eyes snapped open.

“All of them,” he whispered.

“Good answer. For the test,” he said, dropping Ian’s face again, “open your mouth.”

Ian hesitated, but eventually laid back and opened his mouth, clenching his eyes shut tightly.

“Good boy,” Silas crooned, and kissed him on the cheek.

But Silas ignored the mouth and crawled over Ian, his body still twisted with his bare ass in the air. Before Ian could react, Silas straddled Ian’s hips, pulled his cheeks apart and pushed inside his warm canal.

Ian braced himself and tried to protest, but Silas’s focused expression seemed to silence him.

Silas pressed in deep until he felt Ian’s ass against his sack, then rocked forward and pumped, over and over again. Ian pushed and protested, but Silas’s face twisted in mounting pleasure, his mouth dropping open and his eyes closed in concentration.

He pulled back and began thrusting harder, slapping against his brother’s ass as he went, beginning to pant and cry in pleasure while Ian sobbed in pain.

“Tell me how much it hurts,” Silas moaned as he thrust. “Let me hear you.”

Ian stopped holding back and sobbed loudly, and Silas’s pace picked up.

“Baby, cry for me,” Silas pleaded, wrapping his arms around Ian as he fucked him. “Tell me how much I’m hurting you,” he said, pressing his forehead lovingly against Ian’s back.

For the first time, Ian didn’t fight the command he was given.

“It hurts!” he gasped between sobs. “Please stop!”

“I’m almost there, baby. I’m almost there.” He thrust harder, the pace drawing sweat between their bodies and between Silas’s shoulder blades. “You feel so hot, you’re going to make me come. Tell me again.”

“Stop!” Ian cried, his face and pillow soaked, and he pushed weakly back. “Please.”

The sound of Silas’s thrusting bounced off the walls as he ground deep inside his little brother’s body as he riddled it with pain and blood. Silas clung to him and pushed and ground, grunting as he drew too close to contain himself.

He pushed as deep as he could and held himself inside his brother, and wrapped a hand around Ian’s jaw, pulling his head back too far for comfort, just to make his ending hurt more. He lay there for nearly a minute, panting while his nerves sang and Ian struggled to breathe. He thrust a few more times, groaning in pleasure before pulling out and falling limp beside his brother.

“You’ll remember that next time, won’t you?”

Ian nodded, and broke down in sobs.

Silas curled up beside him, kissing every inch of his shoulders and neck from behind.

“If you don’t, we’ll just have to repeat the lesson, which I won’t mind at all. I love you, Ian.”

“I still hate you.”

Silas kissed the back of Ian’s head.

“I know.”


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