Good Intentions Ch. 03

"Hey boys, either of you want a snack!" their mother shouted from the kitchen. Brian instantly stilled, his head turning automatically in her direction. Quinten spared no more than a quick glance with his eyes to make sure she wasn't peeking in at them, and seeing no-one, continued milking his brother's cock, which only seemed to strengthen in his mouth, owing credence to his brother claiming that having their parents close by made his dick hard.

"Uh-h," Brian stuttered, looking adorably wasted and confused, "N-no?" His voice broke, coming out weakened. Quinten refrained from laughing.

"What was that?"

"I- I'm good!" Brian shouted.

"Quin, honey? What about you?"

Quinten ignored her. Brian set his hands on his shoulders as if to shove him off, but before he could, Quinten bowed down low over his brother and gave him the same treatment as he had last night, the dull smack of his forehead colliding with his brother's soft belly echoing about the living room in rapid succession.

"Ah, ah, uh, ah," Brian wheezed, helpless to do much else but take it, his body going on autopilot to match his speed and intensity, "fuckohfuckmeefucck- ohh, ohgodyes- yesss, fuck my dick," he moaned out in a normal talking voice, his words slurring together.

"Quin, did you hear me?" Her voice was closer, her footsteps impatient...

Quinten willed himself to go faster, his eyes locked with Brian's unfocused ones. Any second now and she would be walking in on them, screaming, alerting their father, destroying the family-

Brian abruptly clasped his hands around Quinten's head to hold him still and thrust up with all his strength, his balls all but leaping out of Quinten's hand to pop up against his soaked chin. "Uhhghh- shit, oh fuck me, oh- oh fuccccck- he's fiiiine!" Brian cried out, his eyes wide and watery as his cock tried jerking about the tight confines of his brother's throat. Seconds later, he was unloading a torrent of seed, his pale eyes rolling upward as his lips slackened and a low keening moan rumbled out of them.

Quinten watched him without blinking, the rush of his brother's cum warming his belly and causing his own untouched dick to have a minifit. To his astonishment, a burst of wetness exploded in his underwear, quickly followed by another and another in rapid succession as he realized with disbelief that watching Brian come undone seconds from being caught deep throating his little brother by their mother had made him cum without so much as being touched once.

"Er, okay..." Their mother muttered, and by some miracle, didn't come around the corner to see why Brian had shouted at her in his brother's stead. "Dinner will be done in twenty minutes." Her voice ebbed, returning back to the bowels of the kitchen.

Brian's eyes closed as his climax leisurely came to its end, his nails retracting from Quinten's scalp and his chest heaving with exertion. As his cock took its time going soft, he flopped back onto the couch and threw an arm over his eyes. He then started to laugh.

"Holy shit..." His voice came out wrecked; Quinten preened.

Pressing a hand against his sweaty groin, Quinten then began pulling his head back, allowing his brother's softened penis to slip through his mouth like a giant noodle. He then took the time to lick it clean of cum and saliva, his gentle ministrations causing Brian to twitch and let out tender little groans. It began to plump up a little but Quinten doubted he'd want to go again so soon. He set it to rest against Brian's belly, and as he sat back on his haunches to admire his handiwork, his brother stirred and looked down his torso at him. He lazily smiled.

"We should do that more often."

Quinten laughed.

Finding his answer acceptable, Brian placed his hands underneath himself and straightened up. "Alright, Quin," he announced, patting the spot next to him. "Your turn."

Quinten immediately blushed and looked away. "Oh, um, I'm fine."

Brian huffed and patted the cushion with a solid thump. "Stop complaining. I told you before that I want to help you. Quid pro quo."

"I- I know. It's just... I..." He swallowed. Would Brian laugh at him? Well, here went nothing. "The truth is, I um, I already came."

"..oh." Disappointment lighted on his face; Quinten hung his head with higher shame. "You were touching yourself?"

"Not exactly..."

Brian pulled a confused face. Hoping that actions spoke louder than words, Quinten gingerly stood up. Brian's gaze zeroed in on his crotch, the material darker than the rest with an obvious wet spot. He didn't say anything at first, though something dawned in his eyes. It took Quinten a moment to categorize it as perverted glee.

"Dude, did you cum in your pants? Without touching it? Show me!" he demanded at Quinten's furtive nod.

His hands felt numb as he unfastened his jeans, then at Brian's encouraging nod, hooked his thumbs into the band of his stained boxers and pulled them down until his cock, flaccid and covered with his own milky cum, flopped out. Standing there in the middle of the living room with his ass out and their mother humming cheerfully in the kitchen made him feel more than a little naughty. As if in agreement, his cockhead immediately drooled out a string that stretched for several inches before disconnecting and landing on the floor, followed swiftly by several thick beads, one of which splattered on Quinten's foot.

Brian's own dick jumped up at the sight, the shaft swiftly filling back out and throwing Quinten for a bit of a loop. Was his brother really that aroused by it?

"That's so hot..."

"It is?"

"It is to me." He held his hand out, which Quinten took without question.

He allowed Brian to pull him down onto the couch at his side, and felt a thrill shoot up his spine as his brother pushed him over onto his back and eased his jeans and underwear partway down his slender thighs, leaving him feeling very dirty indeed with his cum drying swiftly on his sensitive skin.

"Brian..." he murmured, unable to move as his brother kneeled over him, flicked his eyes up, then lowered his head and tentatively drew the tip of his tongue over Quinten's cockhead. "Oh god," he mewled, winding his fingers through Brian's curls.

Brian retracted his tongue and took a moment to savor his little brother's spent semen, the space between his eyebrows relaxed. Last night he had pulled a bit of a face after tasting himself on Quinten's tongue, but he didn't seem to mind it now. Brian abruptly looked up, a half-formed smirk on his lips as if having read his mind.

"I lost my chance to help you cum so I figured the least I can do is clean you up like you do me."

Without waiting for Quinten's response, he ducked his head back and went for it in earnest, his tongue boldly lapping up cooling cum from where he could get it -from his penis, his balls, his inner thighs and even his goddamn pubic hair- and swallowing it down with thick gulps. Quinten stared at him wordlessly, in sheer disbelief that his straight brother was not only licking up his cum, but taking it straight from its source and enjoying it. His breathing came out shallowly, not wanting to disturb the moment. His hips on the other hand would edge up, wanting to be closer to his brother's warmth and the comfort of his mouth. Luckily Brian seemed to find that charming and allowed Quinten to press his cock eagerly against his lips, where after the second time, he let it in and gently suckled on the tip, his tongue swiping across the slit to lap up a dollop of cum without pause. Instead of letting it go after having sated his curiosity, he merely lowered his head further, his eyes closed as he clumsily began servicing his little brother's cock.

"I-" Quinten stuttered. This was a dream. It had to be a dream. This wasn't happening, there was no way Brian was... "Nnh, please, please," he begged as Brian delicately cupped his balls in one large palm and stretched his tongue out beneath Quinten's shaft, his other hand holding firmly to his younger brother's stomach to keep him from jerking up. When Brian fluttered his tongue, Quinten thought he would die. "Oh, Brian, I love you," he murmured, his shoulders pressing against the couch cushions, hands forming fists in his brother's curls, his body feeling not entirely his own.

Brian chuckled darkly and began retreating. His cheeks pulled in as he sucked on Quinten's dick until it fell from his mouth, pink and swollen with new arousal. He licked the outside of his lips, grinning with amusement.

"You make the cutest sounds," he whispered, causing Quinten to turn bright red. Winking, Brian sat up and grabbed a hold of Quinten's jeans and removed them fully until they were equal in their nakedness. He curled his hands around Quinten's trembling thighs and spread them gently apart, then without hesitation lowered his head to take his brother back into his ardent mouth. "Mmm..." he hummed, his head beginning a slow, methodical nod, his eyebrows pinched down with concentration.

Quinten hissed, his heart palpitating and every one of his bones turning to jelly. His fingers idly caressed the nape of Brian's neck, encouraging his brother to take him in deeper but at his own pace, his eyes fluttering closed as he felt his twitching cockhead inch centimeter by centimeter to the back of Brian's virgin throat...

Brzzzzzzt brzzzzzzzt brzzzzzzt

Brian gagged and jerked back in surprise. His pale eyes blinked rapidly at nothing in particular before he turned his head to the side. Quinten sluggishly followed his gaze and saw that it was his phone, ringing and skittering across the coffee table. From his angle he couldn't see who was on the caller i.d, but Brian certainly could, and judging by the slight sneer of his lips, he could take an educated guess.

"Boyfriend calling," Brian said with false cheer. "You should get that." Before Quinten could piece together a coherent thought, his brother was snatching his clothes off the floor and redressing.

Quinten wanted to reach out to him, but he knew better than to let Calvin go straight to voicemail. Heaving a sigh, he sat up and swung his legs over to grab his phone. By then Brian was standing up and buckling his belt, his movements swift and precise. He was doing his best not to choreograph his disappointment, but Quinten could clearly see tension in the line of his shoulders. Quinten couldn't stand the notion of Brian being upset with him, not now when he needed his support the most.

"I'm sorry," Quinten said, eying his traitorous phone.

Brian paused, then with a world weary sigh, squatted in front of Quinten and cupped his face between his palms. "Don't be, it's not your fault." His thumbs moved, stroking his cheeks and the delicate area under his eyes. Quinten nuzzled into his hand and leaned forward in the hopes of snatching one last kiss. Thankfully Brian accepted it with a smile before standing and giving him privacy to answer the call.

God, did Quinten not want to answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, baby, great news," Cal greeted, "I'm free earlier than I thought I'd be so you can come over now."

Quinten eyed the clock on the mantle and saw that it was only a little before five o'clock; it was an entire hour before their original rendezvous. "Oh, uh, okay, but I need to take a shower first."

A heavy silence followed, one that made a bead of sweat drip down the back of his neck. "A shower?" Cal's voice pitched low with annoyance. In hindsight, maybe coming up with a lie would have been better... "This late in the day? What the fuck have you been doing this whole time? Seriously, Quinten? Do I need to write you up an itinerary?"

Quinten felt the usual embarrassment and shame that descended upon him every time Cal became disappointed in him. Couple that with the great time he'd just had with his brother, and he outright wanted to cry. He was so, so glad Brian had left him alone, he probably would have snatched his phone out of his hands the moment tears sprang to his eyes.

"No, you're r-right, I'm sorry. It's just..."

A long sigh crackled the phone's tiny receiver with static. "Your brother, right?"

Unease crept up the back of Quinten's neck before he remembered that he used Brian as an excuse for not showing up last night. He didn't respond though, his throat sticking with more than just remnants of his brother's cum.

"Alright, whatever. Be here in thirty minutes."

"Okay," Quinten started, only to snap his mouth shut as Cal unceremoniously ended the call. He lowered his phone and stared at it, at his reflection gazing back with uncharacteristic sorrow.

**

Roughly forty minutes later, a heavily bundled up Quinten rang the doorbell to Calvin's lake house and waited with none of the bravado he normally showed. He stood there on the Welcome mat like a drowned puppy, his arms wrapped tightly around himself while his teeth chattered loud enough to make his ears ring. The temperature had dropped into the low forties as evening rolled through town in the form of frigid winds; combine that with the fact that his hair was still damp from his rushed shower, he was absolutely freezing his ass off. Brian's face when he walked out the door dressed like Hell had frozen over would forever be seared into his memory.

Thankfully, the front door swung open within mere seconds to reveal Cal's formidable form. Like always, standing in his presence left Quinten with the feeling of acute awe. At six feet tall and built from head to toe like a robust stallion, he looked like a runway model with his immaculate posture and chiseled face. His short blond hair, normally neatly combed back, sat at an artful tousle across his brow and blue eyes, turning his usual stony stare into a smoldering glare that made Quinten's cheeks burn. His beard was kept down to a tasteful stubble tonight, surrounding plump, kissable lips and the slight cleft in his chin. Instead of his usual 'hot lawyer' suit and tie, he was wearing nothing more than an old t-shirt and pajama bottoms, his feet bare. As the cliché went, he could put on a potato sack and make it look like it cost thousands of dollars.

Cal looked him over with obvious annoyance twitching around his eyes, but much to Quinten's relief, he didn't start berating him about running late (which was totally not his fault, he couldn't control the ice slicking the roads or other people's driving) and merely stood back to let him inside. Quinten hurried in, and hoping it'd warm Cal's attitude, wrapped himself around the man like a boa constrictor, mostly to steal his heat. Cal immediately hugged him back, the tension in his muscular frame thawing as he squeezed the teenager to his chest and ran a calloused hand along his shivering back.

"You're freezing, baby," Cal murmured, his voice a deep rumble. "C'mon, I have the heater set up in the bedroom for you." He took up Quinten's smaller, gloved hand in his and led him further into the house.

Quinten followed close behind, eager to get back on Cal's good side so that they could have a great time. He'd already decided on the drive over that if Cal was impressed with him by the end of the night, he'd stop 'practicing' on Brian despite his earlier reluctance to do so. Make no mistake about it, he really did enjoy performing oral on him and had been over the moon when Brian attempted to reciprocate, but because of his lack of judgement (once again) he had allowed himself to piss his boyfriend off. Well, that would be the last time. Brian would always be his brother, but Cal could exit his life at any given point, and he was loathe to let him go.

As promised, the master bedroom was perfectly cozy thanks to the fancy space heater sitting in a corner of the room. It brought a smile to Quinten's face, one that he aimed up at Cal when the older male glanced over his shoulder at him for approval. It just went to show that even though Cal was upset with him, he wasn't a monster; he knew how easily cold Quinten got and had been attentive enough to take precaution.

Cal's lips twitched with his own smile. "I knew you'd appreciate it," he said as Quinten took off his gloves and stored them in his coat pockets. He experimentally flexed his fingers, and finding them perfectly dexterous, unwound the scarf knotted tightly against his throat, allowing him to breathe easier.

"I'll be so glad when Summer's here. I'd rather sweat than freeze," Quinten chuckled.

"I'm sure... now, then." Cal cupped balmy hands around Quinten's cool cheeks and angled him upwards. He then leaned down with intent, the smell of his expensive cologne seeping up the teen's nostrils. "Let's not waste any time."

The kiss was hurried, a little sloppy, and full of nipping teeth that left Quinten believing that he was bleeding. Though the memory of his brother's sensual lips and tongue needled at the back of his mind, Quinten gleefully wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's thick waist and gave as good as he got. As always, Cal took complete control of the pacing, making it a whirlwind of an affair, literally leaving Quinten breathless and dizzy by the time he backed off with a stinging bite on his power lip.

"Really missed you," Cal muttered against the side of his mouth, his tone guttural. He squeezed the teen's ass hard enough to make the tendons in his arms bulge out and slid his moist lips down across his hairless jaw and under so that he could give his neck a little attention with his tongue; Quinten gasped, turning into putty in his hands at the prospect of a hickey. "Please don't ever do that to me, again, baby..."

"I won't," Quinten promised, eyes closed and head tilted back. "I won't, I won't."

Cal hummed his approval and began walking backwards while dragging Quinten with him. He smoothly spun on his heel and pushed the teen down onto the King-sized bed. In the next moment, Cal was straddling him, his weight heavy but reassuring, his breath tepid against his ear as he grabbed the zipper on Quinten's puffy coat and began teasingly pulling it down.

"I hope you're wearing something sexy under this..."

Quinten stilled, his blood freezing in his veins. Shit. He knew he was forgetting something!

Cal read into his stiffened body language as though Quinten was a dusty old tome he was intimately familiar with. He let out a frustrated sigh and sat back to give Quinten the look. "Is this going to be a pattern with you?" His tone was low, his eyes flecked with stone. "One step forward, five steps back?"

Quinten swallowed and refrained from guiltily looking away. If this was Brian he would've bared his teeth and told him off for sounding like an asshole. But this wasn't his infuriating, good meaning brother. This was his serious, mature boyfriend who refused to accept any shit or signs of weakness. He couldn't just admit that he'd been feeling rushed and panicked after their last phone call. That would only confirm to Cal that he couldn't either handle the demands of their relationship or follow simple directions.

Luckily he could fix this whole fiasco with one simple thing.

"I've been a bit stressed with the thing with my brother," he said placidly, "but you know me. It's not a permanent thing. I can do better. I promise." He reached out and set his palm firmly against Cal's chest, where through the thin fabric of the shirt he could feel his hard abs. Cal tilted his head, his eyes following Quinten's hand as he began dragging it downward, then he looked Quinten in the face, expectant. "Can I make things up to you?"

"A handy isn't going to erase all your mistakes," Cal informed him without missing a beat.

Quinten refrained from cringing. "I know... I got something better in mind. Stand up."

Cal quirked an eyebrow at the demand but did as told. He stood there with his arms crossed, waiting as Quinten shrugged out of his coat and threw his scarf on top of it, the heater having done its job in warming him from head to toe. After, he straightened up and with his inner dialogue reminding him that this was what he wanted, that this was what he needed, that everything he did with Brian was leading up to this moment, Quinten fell into the role that never failed to stretch Cal's interest in him no matter how much he messed up: youthful innocence with a touch of sexual know-how.