Wounds We Cannot Heal Ch. 01

Author's Note: Hi everyone! I decided to start posting this story, chapter by chapter as I write it. This story isn't edited. This is a second draft and has a ways to go. I want to post it here to push myself to finish it, because I really want to, and putting pressure on myself helps with that ???? That being said, please do not comment on basic spelling and grammar errors. I am aware they are there. This is not the finished product. Please DO let me know if there are errors that make it difficult or impossible to understand, and please do feel free to give constructive criticism on other aspects of the story! Also, this is an erotic romance, but there is still a lot of plot. Feel free to skip the plot and just read the smut, but I hope you'll also enjoy the story!

Some content warnings: This is a semi-dark taboo romance between full blood-related brothers. It's not that dark, but there is dubcon and intense angst. There is sibling estrangement, mentions of a past near-death experience of a main character, mentions of past, severe illness, and possessiveness.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Prologue:

Twelve Years Ago - Ten Years Old

I was having a hard time going to sleep. We'd just gotten to Aunt Lydia's house that day, and as it always did, my brain struggled with the sudden change in environment. The fact that the day had been a whirlwind of activity didn't help.

We stayed with our aunt for about a week every month to help our parents with their busy work schedules, but Lydia always made sure we had fun while we were there. We'd gone out to lunch, and then to the movies after, and I had drunk way too much Dr. Pepper to be conducive to sleep even eight hours later.

I tossed and turned in bed, frustrated by the brief glimpses of sleep before my body jerked awake again.

I must have finally managed to slip under long enough to dream, because when I opened my eyes next, it was a bright sunny day at a park.

Damien was squinting against the sun to look at something at the other end of the empty soccer field. He had one hand on my shoulder, trying to get my attention.

"What is that?" he asked, pointing with his other hand. Frowning, I struggled to follow his gaze.

"What? I don't see anything," I complained.

"It's right there--it's shiny."

A glimmer of movement in the corner of my eye drew my attention to it. It was silvery, twitching in the grass as the wind disturbed it.

I shrugged. "It's probably just litter. A chip bag or something--" I broke off as Damien's grip suddenly tightened on my shoulder before releasing it, as it being pulled away by someone else.

"Dame?" I turned to him to find an empty space beside me. My heart thudded hard in my chest. Trying to swallow my panic, I looked around. He couldn't have gone far, it had only been a few seconds. "Damien?" I called out, getting to my feet. I couldn't smother the sense that something horrible had happened to him. We were the only ones here, he couldn't have been--

I cut the thought off before it could fully form. That wouldn't help anything.

Feeling increasingly frantic, I took a few tentative steps towards the line of trees at one side of the park, calling out for my brother again. Soon I was running through the trees, whipping my head around, searching for any trace of him.

"Damien? Damien! C-come on, this isn't funny!" My voice cracked around the plea. Tears stung my eyes.

The further I ventured into the woods, the closer together the trees grew and the darker the shadows became. The panic built in my chest, but I couldn't stop. I had to keep going, to keep looking for Damien. Maybe he was in here somewhere. I couldn't even remember why I thought he had gone into the woods, but it felt like the right direction, like a string pulling me deeper.

"D-Damien?" The air was thick, sticking in my throat as I breathed, settling heavy in my lungs. I felt like I was being smothered. "Damien!" There was the sound of a twig snapping behind me, and I whirled around to look, my heart leaping in my chest.

But there was nothing there but a wall of dark trees. As I stood there, straining to see into the darkness past them, I realized they were moving, closing in on me. As I turned, I saw they were all doing that, pressing closer in an-ever tightening circle around me.

"Damien! Damien, please!" I couldn't hold in the tears or sobs anymore, the cries hysterical even to my own ears. "Damien! Damien!"

But there was no answer. I dropped to my knees before curling into a shaking ball, bracing myself for--

"Damien!" I jerked awake to find myself in bed in the guest room at Lydia's house. My heart pounded in my chest, trying to break my ribs in its panic. My breaths came shaking and quick, and I struggled to calm down.

There was movement by the door, and my frantic gaze jerked over to see Damien, a concerned look on his face. I could have sobbed in relief.

"Damien," I choked out. After a moment, Damien took a few hesitant steps towards my bed, coming to stand next to me. He reached out, unsure, and placed his hand on my head. I couldn't help leaning into the touch, needing the reassurance that he was here, that he was okay. "S-sorry," I stammered.

"It's okay," he said softly, gently stroking my hair. "It was just a bad dream." After a moment, he sat down, pulling me into a one-armed hug. "It was just a bad dream," he repeated.

"I-I didn't mean to wake you--"

He cut me off with a shake of his head. "No, it's okay. I was already awake. I was..." He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to. I knew what he had been doing. Standing in my doorway, watching me as I slept, as if scared some unknown force would spirit me away if he took his eyes off of me. This wasn't the first night I'd woken to find him there, his steady gaze on me. It should have bothered me, but... it made me feel safe. It was just Damien, after all. My big brother who always needlessly worried over me, who threatened to beat up anyone who bothered me if I looked like I was too upset about it.

I just nodded, and he let out a little sigh. Without a word, he laid down behind me, curled around me through the blankets. He was small for a twelve-year-old, but he'd always been bigger than me. I'd always felt safe next to him, knowing that he wouldn't let anything harm me so long as it was within his power. His arms tightened around me as if he, too needed the reassurance that I was safe. I could feel his breath in warm puffs against my scalp as he pressed his face to my hair.

Slowly, the muscles in my body relaxed, sinking against the mattress.

"There you go," Damien murmured drowsily. "It's okay. I'm right here. Go back to sleep."

My eyes were heavy, and they drifted shut to the rhythm of his reassuring murmurs. I felt okay going back to sleep so long as he was here, and I rested in the knowledge that he would still be there when I woke again.

Chapter One:

Present Day

I jerked awake from a dream that was already slipping away from me. Whatever it was, it had my heart pounding, a cold sweat beading on my skin, and my brother's name on my lips.

As if it were a reflex, my eyes flicked to my doorway. Empty. Nothing but smooth, white-painted wood stood there. I choked back disappointment and regret, pretending they weren't even there.

I had no reason to expect to see him standing there. He hadn't been there in years. I couldn't remember exactly when it stopped, but there was a gradual drop-off as he grew more and more distant, a chasm that I hadn't realized was cracking open between us until it was too wide to do anything about. He started coming to my room to guard me less and less, and then one night he was there for the last time.

I tried to not feel bitter about it, but it was impossible to shake the feeling that I had done something to drive him away.

I swallowed back the sour taste in my mouth, my day already ruined by the mystery nightmare and brutal reminder of how the most important relationship in my life had disintegrated.

With a sigh, I got out of bed to go through the motions of my day. Getting dressed, brushing my teeth, grabbing something to eat on my way out the door, driving to the small college that was located about twenty minutes away from where we lived.

I could barely focus on the lecture, which seemed to be a recurring issue lately. Resigned, I pulled up the recording app on my phone and set it on the desk so I could listen to it later when I went for a walk or something. It was a wonder I wasn't failing my classes. I just had to hang on another semester and a half. Just six more months, and I'd have my psychology degree.

The thought of having to finally figure out what I wanted to do with it was a whole other source of dread. I had several options I'd been considering, but trying to narrow it down had been hell.

I blew out a breath of relief when the professor dismissed us. I packed up my things and was out the door in record time. I received an email halfway through the lesson that my last class had been canceled last-minute, and for once I was grateful. I normally enjoyed school, but right then it felt like a prison.

The cool air on my face was welcome after being stuck in a room overheated by a dozens of bodies. Leaves crunched beneath my feet as I took the time to wander around campus for a bit, meandering in the general direction of my car, but reluctant to get in another enclosed space just yet.

It was nice out here this time of year. Not yet cold enough to be unbearable, but not unpleasantly warm. The smell of wood smoke drifted over campus, carried by the wind from the houses with wood stoves nearby.

When the weight of my bag finally started to make my back ache and the late autumn chill bit at my fingers uncomfortably, I finally gave in and made my way to the car, quickening my steps. It wasn't cold enough, and the drive wasn't long enough, to bother with turning the heater on. Instead, I kept my coat on as I made the drive home on the long, winding roads.

Sounds echoed down the hallway as I stepped into the house, closing the door behind me. I kicked off my shoes and dropped my bag by the door, a habit my mom had tried to break me of for years. I was sure I'd get an earful if she tripped over it again. At the moment, I couldn't bring myself to worry about it.

I paused at the end of the hall, straining my ears to listen. They were loud enough to be heard from a few feet away, but they were muffled and indistinct.

My mouth went dry when I realized what I was hearing. It sounded like moaning, like the sweaty slap of skin on skin, coming from my brother's room. His door was open just a crack, a sliver of light spilling out across the floor. My skin prickled as I froze in place. Surely... surely Damien was not having audible sex with the door open when anyone could enter the house and hear him.

Morbidly curious, I crept down the hall to his door, the sounds becoming clearer as I grew closer to it.

"Fuck," an unfamiliar voice moaned brokenly. "Please."

A man's voice.

I didn't know my brother liked men. That familiar bitterness at the reminder that I no longer knew who my brother was mixed with an unexpected bolt of arousal. My breath caught and my cock stirred as the filthy sounds of fucking and dirty talk filtered through the door.

"Take it," my brother groaned. "Fucking take it for me." The other man cried out as the sound of a loud slap met my ears.

I couldn't help nudging the door open, just a little more, just enough to see inside. The slight movement was enough to disturb the air, and the pungent scent of sex, sweat, and cum filled my nose. The smell should have been repulsive, should have turned my stomach and had me backing away, wishing I could bleach my brain.

Instead, it only made my balls tighten and my cock twitch with guilt-riddled pleasure and need.

What is wrong with you? a judgmental voice in my head demanded.

I didn't know. I didn't know anything anymore, only that my hear was pounding and my cock was achingly hard.

From here, I could see Damien's bed. He had a man I didn't recognize beneath him, holding him down against the mattress as he fucked into the man. My eyes widened when my gaze landed on my brother's cock, catching glimpses of it as is slid in and out of the man's hole. He was big. Bigger than me, and I definitely wasn't small. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the place where their bodies connected, Damien's sheathed cock glistening with lube as he stroked in and out of the man's asshole in long, deep thrusts. Damien's balls, fat with pent up cum, swayed with every stroke.

I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be watching my brother fuck another man with my cock this hard.

But something kept me right there, rooted to the floor. I couldn't stop my hand from going to my crotch to press against my aching cock. This was so wrong, I knew that, but for some reason the knowledge of how fucked up it was only fueled my desperation to cum. Barely conscious of what I was doing, I humped into my hand, practically jerking off while I watched the live porn show that I had not been invited to. And something about that, that I was unwelcome, intruding, pushed my arousal even higher.

The man beneath my brother sounded like he was dying. The sounds pouring out of him were filled with pleasure-pain, begging my brother to go just a little faster, a little harder, and then choking on a scream when Damien gave it to him. I could hardly believe my eyes, the way that my brother fucked him so savagely, like he would rip the man apart if it meant he got to cum. My brother, who was reserved and quiet, a gentle and steady presence even if he wanted nothing to do with me. I struggled to reconcile that man with the one I was watching destroy this man.

"You sound like a whore," Damien moaned, his voice strained. He lowered himself on top of the man completely, pressing their bodies flush together as Damien savagely rolled his hips against the man's ass. "You wanted this. Begged me for this. To rip your ass open, to fuck you through the mattress." His moans and grunts grew deeper, more guttural, his thrusts becoming faster and less coordinated, as if he was getting off on his own words.

"Yes," the man moaned as he lay there and took the punishing fuck. "I-I did, I'm--I'm a fucking whore, I needed this--"

I couldn't stand it anymore. As quickly and quietly as I could, I ripped the fly of my jeans open. I had to bite my tongue to keep from moaning in relieved bliss as I reached past my underwear, wrapping my hand around my bare, throbbing cock. The metallic tang of blood burst in my mouth, my eyes watering at the mix of pain and pleasure that was ruling my body.

It was almost painful to touch my cock, it was so sensitive. The tears in my eyes welled at the intense sensation, spilling down my cheeks as I briefly clenched my eyes, trying to cope with the sensations ravaging me. I braced my other hand on the door frame as my body curled forward, my back bowing. I couldn't look away from the two men fucking their brains out, their movements and sounds growing wilder and more animalistic, making the headboard rattle against the wall.

My balls pulsed and pulled up tight, hugging the base of my dick. I must have made some sort of noise, because seconds before I came, my brother looked up, directly at the door. At me. Surprise flickered through his eyes as they locked on mine. Time slowed to a near-stop, being noticed only pushing me right to that edge, instead of softening my cock like it should have. Damien's eyelids fluttered, his eyes rolling back as his hips stuttered. I snapped. My cock jerked in my hand, and I had to shove my fist into my mouth to muffle my shout as my cock burst inside my pants. Cumming with my older brother. The choked groans he made as he filled the condom intensified my own pleasure. I could barely breathe, my lungs burning and my body shaking with the effort of orgasming so hard it felt like my balls were turning inside out.

I sucked in a too-loud breath as my orgasm eased just enough, but the two men were too lost in their own pleasure to notice. I stood there for a moment as I held myself up against the doorjamb, wringing all the cum from my balls that they had to offer. I shuddered at the feeling of my warm cum on my skin as the soaked fabric rubbed gently against my softening flesh. When the room started to grow quieter as the two of them relaxed against the mattress in a sweaty heap, guilt and shame crashed over me.

I had just watched my brother fuck a man, jerked off to it, and cum with them.

Sick, that same voice in my head accused me. You're fucking sick for getting off to that.

I jerked my hand out of my pants and stumbled away from the door as quietly as I could. When I was out of sight, I turned and scrambled down the hall to my room.

I stripped out of my clothes like they were on fire, wiping my hand and dick off on them like cum rags. I kicked them into the corner of my room, refusing to look at them.

The exhaustion of the day suddenly caught up with me. Waking up in a panic, slogging through class and fighting with my brain to pay attention, then coming home and orgasming so hard I almost blacked out. I collapsed onto my bed, wiggling around enough to pull back the covers and slip beneath them.

I just wanted to sleep this off and forget about it when I woke up. I was sure we would both be too embarrassed to mention it.

What felt like only a moment after I closed my eyes, there was a hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake. I jerked, my head snapping around to see my brother leaning over me. I froze, staring up at him fearfully, waiting for him to say something about earlier.

"Mom wanted me to let you know dinner's ready," was all he said. His expression was as impassive as it nearly always was. After another tense moment, I allowed myself to relax. I was right, he wasn't going to bring it up. It would be too awkward for both of us.

"Okay, thanks," I said tiredly. "I'll be there in a minute."

Damien watched me for another beat before nodding and leaving the room. As he let go of my shoulder, the comforter slipped down my arm, and I was suddenly very aware that I was completely naked under the covers. My face burned. I was naked in bed after jacking off to my brother having sex. Naked while that same brother was standing right next to me. Touching me. Shamefully, my cock started hardening at the thought.

Shaking my head, I shoved those thoughts down deep. I glanced furtively at my closed door before getting up and grabbing some clothes. As I reached to open the door, my eyes fell on the pile of cum-soaked clothes from earlier. My stomach twisted nauseatingly. I wasn't sure I'd even able to choke down dinner, especially with the source of my unease sitting directly beside me.

"Oh, hi, hun," Mom said with a warm smile as I entered the kitchen She was pulling a casserole out of the oven. "Can you grab those plates and set the table for us?" She nodded to a stack of plates sitting on one end of the island.

"I thought dinner was ready," I said mildly as she started tossing together a salad. I didn't know why, but our parents insisted on eating at the table, all prim and proper, as if we were rich assholes instead of a working class family whose sons were first generation college graduates. Well, one graduate and one hopefully-soon-to-be graduate. Trying not to look too annoyed, I grabbed the plates and started setting the table.

"I told your brother that so you'd actually be here on time." Somehow, she sounded both sheepish and smug. I rolled my eyes and put the next plate down on the table a little harder than necessary, ignoring the side-eye she shot me.

Damien wandered in as if summoned. He leaned in the doorway, just watching me. His gaze was heavy on me, as tangible as a touch on the back of my neck. I tried to avoid looking at him, my face heating. He was always watching me, even if he wasn't doing it while I was asleep anymore. He was so confusing. That intense look in his eye, the one he had always leveled at me when we were kids, when we were close, had never left, not once. I couldn't interpret it.

But I couldn't deny that there was a part of me, a large one, that enjoyed it. That coveted every scrap of his attention that he would give me.

I risked glance at him. He was stretching, hands reaching for the ceiling, his shirt riding up. My eyes caught on the little exposed strip of skin just above his waistband, watching the subtle shift of the muscles beneath the skin.

Abruptly, his shirt slid back into place as he lowered his arms. My eyes snapped up to find him staring at me. Watching me ogle his bare stomach. My face flamed, that same guilt from earlier twisting my stomach into knots.

But he didn't look angry or disgusted like I would have expected. He looked... almost pleased, a barely-there smile curving his lips. I didn't know what to make of it.

Mom yelled for Dad to come eat, and Damien and I took the hint and sat down at the table.

I had never felt more uncomfortable at the dinner table. Damien sat right next to me, uncomfortably close. His let pressed flush against mine from thigh to knee. I tried to focus on anything else that was happening at the table, to focus on the conversation our parents were having. I tried to ignore the warmth of his body against mine, the way our arms would brush occasionally. I went through the motions of dinner, taking dishes as they were passed and scooping some onto my plate. I tried to join the conversation, but I ended up staring at my plate, picking at my food, and trying not to hyperventilate.

"Callum." Mom's voice jerked me out of my head, and I tried not to jump out of my skin like I'd done something wrong. "How was your day?"

"Oh." I relaxed a little. "Uh, I--"

"Cal came home early," Damien said mildly. There was a barely-there emphasis on the word "came." My blood froze. "Why's that, Cal?" He turned his full attention on me. I squirmed under the scrutiny, trying to avoid his eyes, but they kept slipping back up to meet his. It was like gravity pulled me back into his gaze.

"Uh-umm," I stammered idiotically. My mind was completely blank and my body felt like and electrical current was being fed through it.

"Leave your brother alone, Damien," Mom scolded. After another tense moment, Damien relented, leaning back in his chair and turning his attention back to his plate with a bored expression.

"Now, " Mom continued, "why were you home early? You know we talked about you skipping. We aren't paying for you to get half an education."

Relief washed over me when I realized Damien was just trying to get me in trouble with our parents, rather than trying to expose me for watching him earlier. It just happened to come with the added benefit of psychologically torturing me.

"I wasn't skipping," I promised. "My--" My breath hitched when Damien's hand landed on my thigh. No fucking way. His hand was large enough that his fingertips just met my inner thigh, way, way too close to my cock. I almost couldn't believe this was happening. In front of our parents, no less. I fought to keep my face neutral. "My last class got canceled, so I just came home." Mom gave me a long look like she wasn't sure she believed me. I rolled my eyes. I'd skipped part of a class only a small handful of times because because I wasn't feeling well, but to my parents, that meant I was practically flunking out. Begrudgingly, she gave a slow nod and let the subject go.

As soon as her eyes left me, Damien's fingers inched closer to my cock. Mortifyingly, my dick hardened, stretching down my thigh as if drawn to his touch. I choked on the bite of food I'd managed when his fingers stroked over my rapidly swelling cockhead. I coughed to clear my throat and took a sip of water, trying to not look at Damien. Ignoring him didn't help. He didn't remove his hand, and, if anything, he became bolder. I stared down at my plate, trying not to shake from the reluctant pleasure. I squeezed my eyes closed as his hand stroked slowly down the length of my hard cock, the gentle touch maddening. I knew this wouldn't make me cum, but it made my cock and balls ache. The fact that Damien could keep me on this edge with no relief for as long as he wanted was pure torture. At the same time, it's not like I actually wanted him to make me blow my load in front of our goddamn parents.

"Cal, are you okay?" Dad asked. I grimaced, opening my eyes reluctantly to look at him. I hoped my expression was pained rather than pleasure glazed.

"Yeah. Just, leg cramp," I gritted out, jerking when Damien squeezed my cock. I resolutely ignored him.

"Oh, honey," Mom said sympathetically. "That's no good. If you want to go stretch it out, I can put the rest of your dinner in the fridge for you."

"That would be great," I said with a forced smile. "Thanks."

Damien's hand fell away from my lap as I turned away from him to stand up, but not without a final, firm rub over my tip that made me stifle a startled moan.

I managed to get out of the kitchen without our parents seeing my hard-on, beelining for the bathroom. I resisted the urge to loudly slam the door behind me, instead closing it with a soft click and locking it. Our parents would get pissy if they knew I locked the door, but I could not bring myself to care even a little bit at the moment.

Releasing a long breath, I sat down on the lid of the toilet seat, willing my traitorous erection to go down. I couldn't keep my mind from wandering back to earlier in the evening. The sounds of sex when I walked into the house. The humid scent of cum and sweat and cock when I nudged the door open. The way Damien had seen me and hadn't looked away.

Your brother looked you straight in the eye as he came.

A groan slipped out before I could stop it, my cock throbbing painfully. My hand went to my crotch, squeezing. Pleasure darted through me, making me shiver. I forced my hand away. I couldn't do this. I couldn't jerk off in this bathroom to thoughts of my own brother.

I couldn't jerk off to thoughts of him at all. Anywhere.

I shook my head, hard, before standing. I turned the cold water tap for the sink on to full blast, giving my hands a quick wash and splashing my face to try to get my body to calm down.

My erection let up enough to not be painful, but still made a very obvious bulge in my pants.

I sighed and dried my hands. Maybe I should just go to my room for a bit.

I opened the bathroom door and almost walked directly into Damien.

"What--" I started, shrinking back. He had always towered over me, and right now I felt especially small, looking up at him in the dark of the hallway.

"Shhh," he whispered. I frowned, but before I could say anything, he took my arm and pushed me against the wall, holding me in place with his forearm across my chest. His touch was gentle, but he caged me in with his body. I wasn't leaving unless he wanted me to.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I hissed.

Damien leaned in close, his chest pressing into the arm he was pinning me with from the other side. "Be quiet," he whispered. I shivered, our proximity and the way his breath brushed against my ear when he said it making my cock harden the rest of the way again, aching.

I sucked in a sharp breath when he pressed his palm flat against my stomach, just above my pelvis.

"Stay still."

I didn't think I could have moved from where I stood if I'd wanted to.

He didn't take his dark eyes off of mine, his stare threatening to swallow me whole. Agonizingly slowly, he moved his hand down, watching my eyes flutter as he cupped my dick. It kicked against his hand, as if trying to escape my jeans to get to him.

"Damien..." I breathed, struggling not to press my cock into his hand.

"Is this what you were thinking of? When you watched me fuck someone else with your dick in your hand?" he asked, squeezing gently. I bit my lip to keep a moan in. "Were you imagining what it would be like to feel my hand around you? What it would be like if you were the one I was fucking?"

"Mmph!" I whimpered through closed lips, thrusting against his palm. His lips curved as he added a little more pressure, squeezing and massaging my cock.

"Is that it? You wanted to be under me? To know what it's like to take my cock in your tight hole?"

"F-fuck, Damien." I needed him to stop talking. To stop touching me, walk away, and never speak of this again.

But I wanted it too much. I was going to go to hell, but I couldn't think past how good it felt to finally have his full attention after so long of starving for it, and the overwhelming need to cum. By my own brother's hand.

The thought almost had me blowing inside my jeans. Again. Chest heaving, I let my head fall back against the wall with a soft thump.

"Please," I said before I could think about it. I couldn't believe I was in this situation, cornered by Damien and begging him to make me cum. It felt so out of left field, but it was as if our earlier encounter had flipped a switch.

I whined in protest when Damien let go of me, but he was just moving to undo my fly.

"Yes," I breathed. "Fuck, please..."

My hips jerked when his fingers brushed against my cockhead though my boxer briefs. His touch was light, pausing to stroke just over the very tip where I was already soaking through the fabric. The dragging of the fabric across my slit made my cock let out another little gush of precum. I couldn't stay still, my tip so sensitive it was almost to much. Damien's arm moved from my chest to splay his hand against my hips, holding me firmly against the wall as he teased me.

He kept his attention focused on my cockhead, rubbing across it maddeningly. The stinging pleasure kept me on the edge of climax, but the overstimulation was just enough to keep me from tipping over.

"Damien, I can't--please, I need--hah!" I broke off when he dug his thumb into my leaking slit. My eyes rolled back at the intense sensation, my legs shaking as I struggled to keep from cumming yet. "Dam-Damien!" I cried.

He went still against me, his grip tightening painfully.

"Be quiet." He sounded desperate, his voice edged with fear. He pulled his hand back and cast a glance down the hall. "If you can't keep it down, I'll leave you like this."

I bit my lip, quivering in need. "Sorry." My voice was barely audible this time.

"You will be if we get caught," he said grumpily.

I clamped my lips shut to muffle a groan at the thought.

"You like that?" His voice had softened again. He moved his hand back to my crotch, this time pushing the waistband of my boxers down. I sighed as my cock was freed, unrestricted and so hard it almost pressed against my stomach. I thrust my hips forwards mindlessly when he wrapped a hot, rough hand around me, trying to fuck into his grip. The hand holding me still against the wall pressed harder. "Be a good boy and stay still for me."

I whimpered. Damien stroked my cock slowly, up the full length of the shaft, and my knees threatened to give out. He squeezed around my cockhead, rolling his palm over the tip before stroking back down. I barely managed to hold my moans back, but my breathing was heavy and loud, filling the hallway with my desperate pants.

"You want Mom and Dad to come down the hall and see you like this?" Damien murmured, not letting up. "With your cock out, so hard you leaking, and your big brother's hand around you?" I moaned behind closed lips, the filth coming from Damien's mouth driving my arousal higher. He tightened his grip around my cock, his strokes speeding just a little. His thumb dragged over that sensitive spot beneath my cockhead, pulling choked moans from me. I was falling apart, my struggles to fuck his fist growing more desperate. "What would they say?" he went on. "Watching their two sons commit the most unspeakable sin right here in their home. Inches away from them.

"Fuck," I gasped. My balls tightened at the mental image of our mom starting down the hall, only to freeze in horror when she found us here in the hall. In my head, Damien wouldn't stop. He would keep touching me, making eye contact with her, until I was spurting. "Oh God."

"I'd keep you pinned right here, even if you wanted to get away. To hide so you didn't have to face what we'd done. I'd make sure you couldn't leave before I was done with you. Make you cum right in front of our own mother--"

I couldn't take it anymore. My body tightened, curling over as cum pushed up my shaft. My mouth parted in a soundless scream as it erupted from the tip of my cock. I jerked and trembled through the hottest orgasm of my life, Damien working me through it. I couldn't make a sound as my balls pumped out everything they had left, squeezing almost more painfully than they had before.

"Fuck, Cal," Damien groaned. "You look..." He didn't finish his sentence, moving his other hand to my chest instead. As I struggled through my climax, Damien found my nipple through my shirt and pinched it roughly, rolling the hard nub between his fingers. I gasped, the sensation forcing a few last pulses from my body. I gasped, the stimulation forcing a few last pulses from my body.

"D-Damien!" I cried out, as quietly as I could, jerking against him from overstimulation. "T-too much! Please, no--no more."

He gave me a few more rough strokes, his other hand stroking soothingly down my back. The juxtaposition between rough and gentle touches fucked with my head. After a moment, he slowed down and released me.

I slumped forward against his chest, clinging to him while I caught my breath, reeling from what had just happened. Tears stung my eyes as I struggled to process it all.

"So hot," Damien breathed, his hands moving to squeeze my ass. He didn't even try to pretend he was doing anything else. Because why would he, now? "You look so good cumming for me, Cal. Such a good boy, staying quiet and giving in."

I panted into his chest, his words filling me with a confusing, conflicting mix of emotions. Warmth at the praise, but I also felt taken advantage of. Violated. And yet, arousal pooled in my stomach as I thought of how he had touched me without even asking. One feeling that was notably absent was disgust. My own brother, my blood relative, had jerked me off to completion, and I wasn't repulsed by it. In fact, it only made it hotter.

My brother had all but forced me to commit incest, and it was the best thing I'd ever felt.

I was going to hell.

My breathing gradually slowed until it was almost back to normal, and when my legs no longer felt like they would collapse, I slowly pushed myself into an upright position. My eyes met Damien's, his almost black in the dark hallway. Not breaking eye contact, he lifted the hand I had sprayed with cum to his mouth and licked a drop of it from his finger. I shuddered, a thrill of arousal zipping through me.

"You taste almost as good as you look."

"Jesus," I whispered. I didn't even know what to say to that.

Blinking hard, I crashed back to earth. I became painfully aware of where we were and sucked in a sharp, almost panicked breath, before stuffing my soft cock into my pants. Yanking my fly up, I tried to move around Damien to go to my room, but he stopped me again. His hand wrapped lightly around my throat, pinning me to the wall.

"I saw your clothes on the floor," Damien said in my ear. "Soaked in your cum and tossed away like you were ashamed."

I stiffened, my cock somehow stirring again despite just having had a life-altering orgasm.

"Let me go," I pleaded quietly. "I needed some time to myself so I could sort out my scrambled thoughts. Reluctantly, he loosened his hold on me.

Before I could walk away, he said,

"I bet you wished it was your cum on my sheets instead," he whispered.

I jerked away from him. I couldn't listen to this anymore.

"Fuck you," I muttered, before squirming past him and retreating to my room. When I turned to close my door, he was still just standing there, watching me with a confusingly soft look in his steady gaze. I slammed it shut and locked it, not even caring if I got shit about it from our parents later.

I sagged back against the door, the wood cool against my back. I blew out a long breath, trying and failing to sort out how I was feeling.

Most of my cum had sprayed onto my t-shirt, and I suddenly became aware of how the fabric clung wetly to my skin, already cold. I shivered in disgust and quickly pulled it off, tossing it onto the pile with my other clothes from earlier, my pants and underwear joining them soon after. On second thought, I walked over and picked them up, taking them to my laundry basked and dumping them in before covering them with some of the dirty laundry already in it, as if that could undo what had happened today.

Grimacing, I threw on a clean white t-shirt and some clean boxers before laying down. I stared up at the ceiling in the rapidly darkening room. I brought my hands up to cover my face with a groan.

What the fuck am I doing?