Fraternal Love Ch. 02byPS_Lopez©
"I want it, Braxton," Kieran murmured, starting to pant. "Why haven't you dated anyone?"
I closed my eyes, shuddering as his hands ran up my sides again. "Because they weren't you."
He chuckled, and it sounded mocking and bitter. "Right." He raised his head. "You haven't exactly been celibate the past ten years."
I snorted, still doing my best to get his cock through my pajama bottoms and into my ass. God, I wanted it now. Kieran hadn't stopped moving against me, and he didn't stop now, either.
I chuckled. It sounded as bitter as his had. "Not at first," I admitted. "But after a while, it just wasn't worth it." I winced, groaning and wiggling as my brother drew his fingernails down my left side. Oh, God. I wanted to roll over and crawl onto him now. "You're irreplaceable."
Kieran stopped moving, hands grasping my waist. I inhaled as deep a breath as possible. He didn't shift off of me, but he still didn't move. I could feel his breathing and that was all. I turned my head, doing my best to look at him, and saw his bare knee next to my waist.
"You know I can't trust that."
I nodded, turning my face back to my pillow, forehead on my wrist once more. "Want me to drive you to where you left your car?"
He pushed his groin against my ass, and I felt his cock once more. "After we sixty-nine."
I knew I should refuse. He may still have been a little drunk. Had certainly made this decision on impulse. But I licked my lips, feeling anxious for a taste of his semen. It had been so long, and I'd always loved its flavor. I nodded.
Kieran removed himself from me and flipped me over by pulling on my right hip and shoulder. I reached for him, pulling him down for a kiss, and he tickled the tip of my cock through my pajama bottoms. I moaned into the kiss, chasing his tongue with mine as I raised my hips a little.
My brother nibbled my lower lip, chuckling, and raised his head. He smiled wickedly, tugging the drawstring of my pajama bottoms until it came loose. I watched his hazel eyes shift from green to a darker color as he teased me by tugging on the drawstring more after loosening the knot. He ran his hand towards my erection and back up again, tucking his fingers under the waistband of my pajama bottoms. I moaned and he grinned, chuckling again.
"If I kiss you again, will you take off your pajamas?" he asked, voice teasing.
I reached for my bottoms. Kieran grinned again and kissed me. As I pulled my pajamas off, he gently scratched in my pubic hair around my cock. I whimpered, forcing myself to move when all I wanted to do was lay there and let him tease me like this. I finally dropped my pajama bottoms to the floor and dropped my legs to the bed. Kieran ended the kiss.
"Okay," he said. "Scoot down and get onto your side."
I did as instructed. Kieran stretched out in front of me, sucking a spot on my scrotum. I stopped moving. He picked up my left leg and bent it so it overlapped his side under his left arm. I raised my left arm so his leg could settle in a similar position on me, sliding my hand up the underside of his thigh as I buried my face in his crotch to inhale his scent, his cock hot against my face. Kieran moaned. I sucked in one of his testicles. He nipped at mine.
We took our time. I pulled my face back enough to dampen a finger and circled his anus with it while I laved and sucked his balls. A moment later, I felt his finger circling my anus. He pushed his finger in and I groaned, doing the same to him. We shoved our groins against each other, moaning in unison. Kieran murmured something.
"What?" I asked.
"I wish we could do more."
I nodded, shifting my head to lick the underside of his cock. He sucked the underside of mine, near the base and I moaned, accidentally scraping him with my teeth. Kieran jumped a little.
"Do that some more," he begged.
I did, and he groaned. His finger wiggled in my ass and I twitched my hips, wiggling my finger in his ass. He pushed his groin at my face again. I scraped his erection with my teeth once more. He nipped at my balls some more, wiggling a little against me, the weight of his leg on my ribs increasing as he sought leverage. A moment later, I felt his other hand wrap around my cock. He sucked the underside at the base again.
I wiggled a little and took the head of my brother's erection into my mouth, sucking gently. Kieran moaned, his grip on my cock tightening while his finger jammed all the way into my ass; one of his elbows dug into my abdomen. I moaned as well, wiggling my finger deeper into Kieran's ass, trying to reach his prostate from this awkward position. I must have succeeded because he gasped and moaned, rotating his hips, which pushed his cock deeper into my mouth. I sucked harder.
"Oh, God, Braxton," he muttered before sucking his way up the underside of my cock.
I forgot my duties during that trek and closed my eyes, panting. It had been so long, and none of my lovers after I'd left the family had been able to match Kieran's skill with this. They'd either sucked too hard or too lightly, afraid of hurting me. He added a nip and I groaned.
"Suck me, Braxton."
I obeyed, sucking him into my mouth as deeply as I could while I tried to brush his prostate again. Kieran gave another gasp and a moan, pushing deeper into my mouth. His finger wiggled in my ass.
"God, this hurts the wrist," he muttered.
Then he brushed my prostate. I moaned, mouth still full of his cock. He chuckled and sucked the tip of my cock, digging his tongue into the slit. I shoved deeper into his mouth. He welcomed me and I pulled my head back, sucking him as hard as I could. I brushed Kieran's prostate again, and he gasped and moaned once more, then brushed mine. I moaned and Kieran shoved into my mouth. I pulled out of his and he sucked the tip, digging his tongue into the slit again.
I pulled him closer with my leg around his back and he obliged, wiggling some, his leg pulling at me as well. We worked at each other slowly, experiencing interruptions as brushes on each others' prostates caused distractions. When Kieran stopped gasping and started moaning only, I knew he was close and increased my efforts, sucking him harder, until he lost all pretense of control and just shoved his cock deep into my mouth with thrust after thrust.
I moaned, even though he'd stopped attending to me. Hearing his pants and moans was enough at present. His finger slipped from my ass to grip the left cheek, fingernails digging in as he got closer to climax. He tensed, writhed a little, and shoved his cock into my throat, uttering a loud groan as he came. My erection slid against the side of his neck as he breathed past my thigh, hips twitching. I drank every drop he gave, savoring my first taste of his rich bitter-musky flavor in years.
He relaxed, panting. I closed my eyes as the sensation of his breaths warmed my balls. Kieran gave a little groan and shifted, nipping at me again. He sucked at the base of my cock once again, then up it, reinserting his finger. It was dry, but I didn't care. Having his finger in my ass again felt exquisite and I moaned. He chuckled. I grinned, knowing why he'd chuckled; he felt pleased over my reaction to his attentions.
He sucked me in the same time he brushed my prostate. I moaned, thrusting deeper into his mouth. My brother chuckled, and I shivered, pulling out and shoving in again to feel that vibration run up and down my cock. His arm shifted and he murmured something around my cock. I didn't bother asking him what he'd said. He added another finger and I saw his elbow rise. A moment later, he brushed my prostate again. I shoved into his mouth.
Kieran kept at it, varying the pressure of his sucking, taking breaks. It had always taken me longer to reach climax, but, like every time before, my brother showed that he could be as patient as necessary as he sucked and nibbled my erection, digging his tongue into the piss slit while he massaged my prostate. When I finally came, I thought I was going to shake apart.
I rolled onto my back with a groan, carefully raising my leg so I wouldn't accidentally hit my brother with my foot. I kept my eyes closed as I panted, trying to catch my breath. Kieran sucked my thigh, then moved, curling up against me, leg thrown over mine. When he kissed me, I opened my eyes for a moment, participating in the kiss.
I shifted my right arm, wrapping it around my brother, unwilling to leave the bed quite yet though my bladder wanted me to empty it. I refused to take this opportunity for granted. I didn't know when--or even if--I'd get another chance to hold Kieran like this again.
He rested his head on my shoulder and raised my left hand to look at my watch.
"It's only nine," he said. "I don't think the bar I went to opens until around eleven."
I smiled a little, pulling him closer as he entwined his fingers with mine.
"Plenty of time for breakfast," I said.
"Let's go out."
I chuckled. "Okay, but I'm buying."
He kissed my neck a few times. "Okay. Have you really not dated for two years?"
"Yeah. Actually, almost three."
He sighed, but didn't ask any more questions. I didn't know whether to feel relieved or upset about that. I doubted he would have believed me if I'd told him I'd never done more than what he and I had just done with anyone else. I just hadn't been able to convince myself to move on, had always clung to the hope that Kieran and I would see each other again one day, would one day reconcile and become lovers again.
I kind of wanted to tell him all this, but held back. I wanted to tell him when I could be certain he'd believe me, and I was growing more and more certain that what Dad had done to us would always be between us. I kept privately hoping that proof of Dad's interference would be found, but it hadn't yet, and it had been weeks. The broken-open file cabinet had yielded nothing according to Harlan, and files from neither of the cabinets holding years previous or following had had anything either.
I'd also been having second thoughts. It was taking a while, but we were still working through things. Maybe it would be best for that information never to be found, if it existed at all. I wasn't sure I wanted to ruin Kieran's sunny opinion of Dad. I didn't want to see my brother upset or hurt, and he'd feel both if he found out Dad really had treated me differently. It had been difficult enough pointing out the few discrepancies I already had.
Kieran pulled away from me. I watched him roll over and get out of bed. He glanced at me as he retrieved his underwear from the floor.
"I'm going to shower," he said.
I nodded. "Fine."
He left the room, underwear hanging from his hand, and I relegated myself to holding my piss until he'd finished. He wouldn't take long. If his tone of voice had been less wary, his expression less closed, I would have followed him, kept him company while he showered and invited him to do the same while I showered. But he'd awoken from his lust, and reason had returned.
I'd forgotten how much of an appetite morning sex gave Kieran, but he'd reduced his French toast to a few bites in a pool of syrup and eaten all but the last bit of his hash browns. I refilled my mug with coffee while my brother poked at his food, elbow on the table, fork swinging around to prod the neat little squares he'd made out of his main dish. His other hand held up his head, cheek cradled by his palm.
We hadn't spoken much since he'd gone to shower. Only necessities. We'd discussed which restaurant we wanted to eat at, I'd warned him before I'd stopped to get gas. Nothing, really. It had been so long since I'd been with him like this that it had taken me until I'd finished my much smaller meal to remember his silence indicated he had something on his mind.
Our waitress arrived. Kieran pinched the edge of his French toast's plate to retain it but passed her every other plate and dish one-handed. She stacked them on her tray and departed, and I noticed she'd brought another carafe of coffee. I added more coffee to my cup, then cream and sugar and drank half of it at once.
"What's wrong, Kieran?"
He looked at me, then returned his gaze to his food, adopting his previous pose. "I don't understand how you could hate Dad like you do."
I sighed, setting my coffee down. "No so much hate as have no use for him or his memory."
"Because I wasn't good enough for him."
I realized I didn't even feel angry about that any more. I once had been. Very angry. So angry that I'd entertained visions of patricide. Yes, I'd hated him, too, but that had died long ago, about the time of his death, because it was even more pointless to hate a dead man than it had been to hate one I'd had no intention of ever speaking to again.
"That's not true, Braxton."
I closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them again, I found Kieran's gaze on me. I looked away, because what I had to say would only upset my brother. It would also just make this situation worse. Those went hand in hand now. Upset Kieran, worsen the situation.
Between Kieran's reappearances in my life and my hope, I realized I was doomed. I'd keep trying to reconcile as long as he kept coming back into my life. Pain had no meaning for me any more, especially the pain he could possibly inflict, because his presence was a balm even when he hated me. I needed him in my life; it had been empty without him, and I'd take whatever he was willing to give so long as he came to give it.
I decided a change in topic was in order. "How did you find me?"
"P.I. She said I could have found you myself, it was so easy to find where you moved."
I nodded. "No reason to hide." I filled my half-emptied mug from the fresh carafe of coffee again.
Kieran ate one of his remaining bites of French toast, sighing as he chewed. I watched him, reminded of how he'd been when he'd been younger, happy, and with me. Right down to his present pose.
"I would have," he said after swallowing. He raised his head to sip from the coffee in his mug, then returned his cheek to his left hand. "I mean, if I'd done to you what you did to me, I'd have wanted to curl up and die."
"I did, Kieran. But God doesn't grant every wish, unfortunately."
He flinched a little and looked down at his plate again. "I would have left town. The country. The world, if possible."
I sighed quietly. "There's only one problem with a plan like that."
"And what's that?"
I stirred more sugar and creamer into my refilled cup. "No distance would have been great enough to alleviate the pain we both felt when I left."
Kieran snorted, glancing up at me, and I saw the anger in his gaze. "You couldn't have hurt as much as I did, Braxton."
I flinched this time, but nodded, conceding his point. "I'm sorry I hurt you like that."
"Right." He drew the word out.
"Believe what you will." It was the only thing I could bring against my brother's doubt.
He sat up, pushing his plate to the end of the table. "God, you're such a fucking wuss, Braxton. I always knew you were scared shitless of things, but, God, you're just a spineless lump now."
I knew he'd said it in a deliberate attempt to hurt me, and it did hurt. I couldn't be sure if he really believed it. That frightened me. And it hurt to watch, because if he didn't believe it, he was doing his best to make himself believe it. It also angered me, because he shouldn't have felt he had to do that.
"Braxton, couldn't you have talked to me?"
I looked into my coffee. "I couldn't."
I shifted. I wished he wouldn't ask such questions, but he wouldn't have been Kieran if he hadn't. My answer would not improve this situation any. I tensed and inhaled a deep breath.
"Because Dad forbade me to."
Kieran straightened, pressing his back against the back of the booth's seat. "What?" He sounded shocked, then enlightenment lit his features. "Oh, this is the 'Dad disowned you' excuse again, isn't it? Shit." He scooted to the end of the bench. "I don't have to listen to your lies. Don't worry about me, brother dear. I'll get a cab."
He rose and left the restaurant. After he'd gone, I put my left elbow on the table and my forehead in my hand, fighting tears. Tears of anger and pain and despair.
I heard the plate scrape away from the table but didn't look up. I dared not open my eyes; my eyelids were the only thing restraining the tears.
"Hey, you okay?" the waitress asked.
I swallowed, nodding.
She snorted. "Yeah, right. Lovers' spat?"
I nodded again, unwilling to speak.
"I'm about to go on break. Want to talk about it?"
I shook my head. She patted my shoulder.
"Well, you just take all the time you need. I don't mind."
I nodded, silently thanking her. That sounded like a good plan. All the time I needed to patch myself up so I could leave here.
I needed quite a while.
I read the date of Grandfather's letter to me. It was a brief thing because, seriously, what do you write to an eight-year-old who talks about school and friends when you're seventy-two? Whomever had organized the folders had set my letters to and from Grandfather, which Dad had apparently inherited, in chronological order, and I picked up the next one in line after setting aside the report card that had been placed between it and the previous letter I'd written. After setting Grandfather's letter face down on the small stack of mine and his combined, I placed the letter of mine after it.
For some reason, my brother had chosen to retain Harlan. I'd decided to during our meeting a couple months back, beaten by his efforts. Harlan had been right, after all. I knew him, we were friends. It made too much sense for me to retain him.
But why Kieran had, I didn't know. Harlan had told me that Kieran had told him to sort the files before officially hiring him, and I'd thought at the time that my brother just wanted to get the stuff out of his way. Who better than Harlan, who at least had some history with our family and had already had the files because I'd had them delivered to him? Besides, Harlan had been Mom's lawyer, and apparently Kieran had seen no reason to hire anyone from the firm Dad had chosen.
I hadn't expected Kieran to choose to retain Harlan. My brother's feelings were still too mixed up about me--thank you, Dad--after all. Why he'd want to keep the lawyer his brother had seemed unfathomable. Kieran could have hired anyone from any firm.
The files Harlan had given me yesterday contained most of the paperwork concerning myself that Dad had kept--and he'd kept everything. Report cards, these letters I was sorting to put in a binder, employment contracts from when I worked for Dad's company. Everything. He'd even kept my high school diploma, and I'd dumped it in the trash because I hadn't pleased Dad with my graduating status: not top of the class.
I frowned a little, reading the date on another of Grandfather's letters to me. Not only had Kieran retained Harlan, he'd told Harlan to share any information Harlan felt I should know with me. Any information.
That just confused me. I sighed. Perhaps I shouldn't have been confused, though. I already knew that Kieran had no idea what to think or feel about me. This willingness to share this information illustrated his need to have some sort of relationship with me, even if he hadn't come to talk in almost four weeks.
A little belatedly, I'd given Harlan permission to share any of my information that my brother asked for. I'd even given Harlan my work schedule, so that if my brother called he could tell Kieran when I'd be off. Kieran already knew my address.