Good Intentions Ch. 05

Was this irony, he wondered, or something else? He was being given the green light and a valuable tool and couldn't do anything with them. Because Quinten wasn't his. He never was. In less than an hour, his brother would be romanced and catered to and caressed and made love to by a man he wished didn't exist.

From the start, Brian had had nothing, and at the end of the night, he would continue to have absolutely nothing.

**

Having the house to himself would have been a blessing in disguise for most people Brian's age, but as it so happened, he was feeling absolutely depressed.

Now more than ever he felt utterly alone, and though he knew it wasn't true, he honestly felt abandoned. Having given up on getting back into his game (not to mention the sharp smell of bleach that now permeated his room gave him a headache), he slouched downstairs to raid the fridge, and after finding nothing of real substance, grabbed the spiked eggnog his dad selfishly kept for himself and poured a shot. He took it into the living room and plopped down on the couch and began channel surfing while occasionally taking a sip. He didn't care what he watched as long as it kept his mind from wandering to less than pastoral thoughts.

At precisely 8:54 p.m., Brian's marathon of watching old stop-motion Christmas movies came to a halt when he heard the deadbolt clack open.

He straightened up from his slouch and fumbled with the remote to turn down the volume, unsure if he had really heard it or if the boozy drink was merely working its magic on him. There was another metallic jangle followed by the front door opening, closing, then getting relocked. A quick glance at the clock on the mantlepiece told him that it was far too early for his parents to come back from their date, and he was pretty sure that Quinten would be staying the night with his boyfriend.

Color him pleasantly surprised when his brother's small stature appeared in the archway of the living room, dressed to the nines in heavy winter wear and his eyes crinkling with a smile that lay hidden behind his woolen scarf. Brian's heart panged at the cuteness of it all despite his confusion at seeing him barely a couple hours after he left out.

"You're home," he stated uselessly. "Why?"

Quinten reached up to tug the scarf away from his mouth, revealing rosy cheeks and a nose that could rival Rudolph's. "I got homesick," he said jokingly, and when Brian didn't react to it, he sighed. "It's a long story, but the short of it is that Cal had something to take care of, so-"

"What? What was so important that he sent you home this late at night?" Brian was miffed, and rightfully so. The roads were slick with snow and ice, and driving in the dark could have easily been disastrous.

"Well..." Quinten hesitated, drawing the word out and tugging at his fingers on the pretense of removing his gloves. "He has a daughter, and she-"

"He has kids?" Brian couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had assumed that when Quinten said the guy had his own place that he was living in an apartment and was in his twenties, and while it wasn't unheard of for people to have children so young, it honestly astounded him that Quinten was dating someone with them. "I thought you hate kids."

Quinten dropped his arms to his sides, his lips pursed. "I don't hate them, I just don't like being around them. Besides, she doesn't live with him, and..." Again he hesitated, his eyes flicking off to the side and alerting Brian that he was definitely not going to like his next words. "And she's... she's thirteen."

"...months?"

"Years."

"What the fuck, Quinten," Brian blurted, appalled, before the age properly settled in his brain. He halfway didn't want to ask it, but... "How old is Cal, exactly?"

Quinten literally squirmed, looking like he'd rather be anywhere than be grilled by his irate brother. In a tiny voice better suited for a mouse, offered, "Thirty-eight?"

"Are you out of your goddamn mind!"

He jumped up from the couch, prepared to stomp over and shake the shit out of Quinten, who flinched at his yell and stared at him with wide eyes, his pupils growing large and fearful. Brian stopped and took a moment to compose himself. He wasn't going to hurt Quinten -he would never hurt him- but... thirty-eight. Good god.

"Look, I know you think you're mature enough, but he is way too old for you." He took in a breath, counted to five, then let it out. Their father's face came to mind, the speech he recited to Brian earlier that night echoing between his ears; he tried to emulate some of his words. "I'm not gonna tell you how to live your life. It's... the age gap is... fuck, I don't know. It's none of my business. If he loves you, then- then that's fine. At least I know that you'll be well taken care of."

Quinten's shoulders drooped from their defensive posture. "Y-yeah."

He tentatively stepped forward, then once close enough, leaned into Brian's chest and slowly hugged him as if expecting to be shoved away. Brian's heart melted at the mere notion that he would do such a thing, and readily hugged him back. To his disappointment (and faint amusement), the bulky coat prevented him from actually enjoying the hug and pouring all of his affection into it, though going by the pleased sigh Quinten breathed out, the teen got something worthwhile out of it.

"Y'know," Quinten began after a minute had passed, "I can't lie and say that I'm not disappointed. I was really ready tonight."

Brian idly nodded. Quinten had been a flurry of activity all day, his eyes bright and his smile a mile wide. Truthfully Brian had been happy for him and found his giddiness somewhat contagious. And frankly, he had felt a bit of relief that this stage in their relationship would finally be over. Now that it hadn't happened, however, the future was once again murky.

"Maybe once he's back in town he'll make it up to you."

"Mhm, but that might not be until the new year. Actually, now that I think of it..." He tilted his head up, his lips cool against Brian's chin. "Wouldn't it be kinda hot getting banged out while bringing in the new year?"

"I... sure," Brian muttered, staunchly ignoring the mental visual of doing just that to the boy in his arms. "Uh, you wanna finish watching this movie with me?"

Quinten glanced over his shoulder to eye the cutesy characters singing a catchy jingle, his expression unreadable. "As much as I'd love to, I got a better idea."

"And that would be...?" Brian asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew what Quinten had on his mind.

Quinten smirked. He stepped out from Brian's arms and offered him his gloved hand, which Brian took without a second's hesitation. Truth be told, now that his brother was home and needy for attention, he was looking forward to enjoying his company for one last night.

Up on the landing of the second floor, Quinten tried leading them to Brian's room. Brian tugged on his hand, not ready to explain the odor of ammonia or anything that lead up to him having to scrub his floor. Quinten peered over his shoulder at him, confused.

"Let's go to your room," Brian explained, "it's already got lube and the dildo."

"Yeah, but, we always do it in my room. I want different scenery."

Thinking quickly, because Quinten's arguments were perfectly agreeable, Brian blurted out the first thing to come to mind.

"My sheets are in the wash."

An uncomfortable shiver ran through Quinten, which Brian took as a victory. Without his sheets, his bed would be cold, and a cold Quinten was an unhappy Quinten. If his brother decided to poke his head in, the lie would have fallen apart in an instant, but thankfully Quinten believed him and headed for his room instead.

"Fine, but next time, I want to do it in your bed."

Brian bit back a sigh. Next time... right. He kept his mouth shut, and once they were inside the familiar space of Quinten's bedroom, closed the door to keep the heat in.

"Do you need to prepare?" Brian asked as Quinten yanked off his leather gloves and stuffed them inside the coat's pockets.

He then began tugging off his puffy coat, revealing a new, fancy v-neck sweater underneath. It was dark green and form fitting without being restrictive, the fabric blinking attractively in the light with what Brian assumed was glitter of some kind. The sleeves stretched down over the back of his hands and ended at his knuckles, and in a glimpse of movement, Brian saw that thumb holes had been stitched in. What made it all the more ravishing was the cut of the collar showing off the three hickeys scattered about his throat, each one in a different stage of healing. Seeing them proudly on display was as sexy as it was mortifying. Maybe it was for the best that Cal had to back out; the man would have been furious.

"Prepare...?"

Brian's gaze followed the coat as his brother tossed it over on top of his desk, scattering his schoolwork and pencils without a care.

"Your ass?"

"Oh, that." Quinten arrogantly smirked, the sight of it making Brian's pulse race. "I took care of that before I left. I told you... I was prepared." He stalked up to his older brother, hips swaying on purpose, and threw his arms around his neck, effortlessly pulling him closer and down to his level with slender fingers curling into his hair. On reflex, Brian wrapped his hands around his waist and readily accepted a kiss, one that was quick and had their lips sticking together when they parted due to dryness. "Hmm." He darted his tongue unexpectantly against Brian's mouth, causing him to jolt. "I taste rum. Were you drinking?"

"Yeah, a little bit," Brian conceded, ignoring the fact that Quinten knew what rum tasted like. He licked his own lips, catching a lingering taste of the rich eggnog he'd been sipping on. "Don't worry, I can still get it up," he joked, nudging his hips suggestively against his brother's.

Quinten didn't laugh. "Why?"

"Was bored... and kinda lonely," Brian admitted to half of the truth, the other half being he also wanted something to numb his head, to which his brother responded by looking strangely chastised.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" he asked, nosing at his neck. Without the scarf in the way, Brian latched on to something woodsy on his skin, almost as if... "Mm. Not your fault... you had a date..."

"Yeah, but... still feel bad," he sighed as Brian inhaled deeply, his cock hardening at the realization that Quinten was wearing cologne for the first time in his life. It had no right to be this intoxicating, this scandalous, this freaking hot. "Guess it worked out in the end, though, huh?"

"Mmmhm." Brian had no idea what he was agreeing with. The cologne was proving to be quite the distraction, sending his mind all a whirl with the new discovery. Brian wasn't a connoisseur by any stretch of the name, but if he was asked to describe it, he would have equated it to a crackling fireplace accented with a peppery note that was equal parts spicy and happy. It was as comforting as it was merciless, firing off Brian's endorphins in a heady rush. "Oh, man," he murmured, salivating like a starved puppy, "you smell delicious."

"Oh, you like it?"

Brian didn't respond, the hard length of his dick pressed against Quinten's thigh answer enough. He began running his hands over the fabric of the sweater, the texture smooth and buttery against his roaming palms, the dark green accentuating everything that made Quinten fun to touch. Quinten shivered under his wandering hands as they roved up his sides and thumbed over his nipples, his head lolling back as Brian nosed at the sensitive spot under his ear before giving in to temptation and gently sucking at his perfumed skin. He didn't have any intention of marking his brother again, but he found him too irresistible not to put his mouth anywhere on him.

"Bry," Quinten gasped, all but turning into putty in his hands. "yes, right there..."

Biting back a moan, Brian regained control of himself long enough to pull off before introducing teeth, and migrated to Quinten's parted lips instead, engaging him in a deep kiss that worked in distracting Quinten from asking for another hickey. When they parted, Brian grabbed hold of Quinten's ass and squeezed, procuring a heady moan along with nails digging into his elbows, his brother's eyes glimmering with lust, his plump lips wet and inviting, all for him.

"I am going to hump the shit out of you," he said, feeling halfway delirious.

Quinten abruptly laughed, then trailing a finger up his brother's bicep, easily countered, "I expect nothing less."

Brian gently squeezed him again before slipping his hands up under the hem of the sweater to touch him directly. He didn't think his hands were cold, but Quinten's stomach instantly pulled in at the initial brush of contact. He hesitated, fully expecting Quinten to shove him off, but his brother surprised him by merely closing his eyes in pleasure. Taking confidence from that, Brian tentatively fanned his fingers out along his stomach until he was circling his waist. Like this, it amazed him how much smaller his brother was in comparison to him; even Garret, who was equally slender.

Taking his time, Brian slid his hands upward, the sweater ghosting over his forearms until inch by inch, the teen's torso was revealed to him. The pit of his mouth filled with saliva as his pale skin greeted him, and at the reveal of his pebbled, pink nipples Brian couldn't help but duck his head to tease one with his tongue before pursing his mouth around the areola. He delicately sank his teeth into it and gave it a little tug. Quinten moaned softly, encouraging Brian to do the same to the other while pinching the damp nub between his fingers. He gave the nipple in his mouth a little suck and flick, and upon backing away, a smooch.

Happy with that, he resumed lifting the sweater out of the way. Quinten lifted his arms obediently until it cleared his head, the fabric misplacing his curls briefly before they settled back into place in an artful tangle. He watched as Brian dropped down onto his knees with a thump and buried his face against his soft stomach, where he deeply inhaled the clean scent of his soap and reverently kissed him. Brian took a moment to calm himself down before undoing the buckle of Quinten's belt without fanfare, his light green eyes flicking upward to gauge Quinten's reaction, wondering if he too was having a flashback to that first night, when it had been the other way around and Quinten had been on his knees instead.

Quinten's expression was unreadable, but he watched intently as Brian pulled down the zipper of his jeans and lowered his eyes at the same time to look between the folds of denim. Brian's breath caught, a hot flush igniting on his cheeks at seeing his cock straining against the glossy fabric of a pair of evergreen briefs that Brian had never seen before, the head deliciously outlined by his spent precum. Sequin lined the top band, and when Brian gingerly tugged on his pants to bring them down a bit, saw that it was mirrored around the fine stitching around his bulge, giving it an even more dazzling look while simultaneously drawing the eye to the goods. He felt that on literally anyone else, it wouldn't have looked half as good.

"These new?" he asked, drifting the back of his hand against the downward sweep of sequins, making his dick flinch at the slightest hint of contact.

"Mhm. I figured I'd keep up the theme."

At Brian's head tilt, he shifted a leg forward, his foot rising up to rest on top of his brother's thigh. Taking the hint, Brian looked down to find that he was wearing green socks. They, too, looked new and luxurious, thick and perfectly suited for the weather. He smiled and ran his hand over the top of his foot until he could grip his slender ankle.

"You better not tell me you went overboard and dyed your pubes green, too."

He meant it purely as a joke, but Quinten went stiff lipped, his eyes skittishly looking off to the side. Brian's smile fell away as his mouth dropped open. No effing way. Wasting no time, he snatched the underwear and unceremoniously yanked them down, revealing-

"You little shit."

"Hahahaha, I'm sorry, but the look on your face! Fuckin' priceless!"

Brian rolled his eyes, his annoyance short lived in the face of Quinten's laughter and the enticing bob of his dick in his face. In the excitement, he forgot that Quinten kept himself trimmed down practically to the skin, what spare hairs he had an unexciting black.

"You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Not my fault you're gullible."

"You're mean."

Quinten quieted, his lips twitching at the pout Brian favored him with. He ran a hand through his brother's fringe, pushing it back from his forehead in what amounted to an apologetic pet. "I'm sorry. I love you."

Brian couldn't keep the miffed look forever and wound up smiling back, his heart feeling full. He leaned forward and nuzzled into Quinten's bare thigh before lightly kissing it.

"You're forgiven. Now, where was I?"

He hooked his fingers in the slouched fabric of Quinten's jeans and satiny briefs and tugged them downward past his knees. Quinten had to steady himself with his hands on his brother's shoulders as he was coaxed into lifting one leg then the other, the height of his cheeks dusted pink as he was unclothed. Brian smirked up at him, playing it cool even though the strain of his erection in his pants was starting to bother him; he couldn't wait to get between his thighs and have his cock milked dry later on.

"Y'know," Brian sighed, running his hands up the back of Quinten's bare legs, "I liked the underwear on you, but I like seeing you in nothing just the same."

Quinten's face turned a brilliant shade of red and he shrugged, trying to look unaffected. "M-maybe after I'll put them back on."

Brian groaned, his mind shifting easily to a visual of his brother presenting on all fours, his shiny green butt swaying enticingly in the air for him to fondle and smear his cum against. "Shit, yeah, I'd like that."

"You're drooling," Quinten pointed out, clearly teasing him.

"Yeah and whose fault is that? I can't help it if I find the idea of you wearing them while I fuck your thighs to be exceptionally hot."

Quinten squeaked out an 'oh', looking, for the moment, incredibly bashful. Brian wanted him, full stop. It wasn't a new revelation, and he knew he shouldn't allow his thoughts to stray too far away from reality, but in the here and now, he wanted to covet his brother in every way possible. And maybe he would. It was Christmas, after all, and the one thing he wanted most from his list was Quinten's heart and soul.

His mind set, Brian shot up to his full height, and giving no indication of his plans, swept his brother off his feet. Quinten yelped as he was scooped up into his arms bridal style and marched the few feet to his bed, where he was unceremoniously dumped. Brian hastily ripped off his knitted sweater and halfway flung it down onto the floor, his eyes trained on his naked brother lying there in an undignified sprawl, the only thing he had on being his socks, his darkened eyes wild and his chest rapidly rising and falling at Brian's behavior. He lay there frozen in time, only snapping to attention when Brian whipped off his pants and shucked his boxers somewhere behind him without giving a damn.

Quinten let out a pleading whimper as Brian's cock leapt up and smacked off of his stomach with the momentum of his actions, the sound loud and sharp. Holding back a smirk, Brian hiked one knee up on the bed and held position, allowing his erection to wobble freely before his brother's wide eyes, his full balls swaying like a hypnotist's pendulum. It was like he was seeing his dick for the first time, and much to Brian's pleasure, swallowed thickly. Not once, but twice.