Davie and Me

II.

It started the night after I got there. No one was home when Mom dropped me off on the way to the airport, so I spent the day in my brother’s room, investigating his stuff, stealing a pair of his dirty underwear, and masturbating. I was intrigue to find he had a box of condoms right in the drawer by his bed, not even hidden at all. It made me crazy thinking about who he fucked in this bed of his. It sucked because although I was trying to find someone like him at my new school, in my new town, I hadn’t yet. I used one of his condoms as I jerked off so I wouldn’t get my cum on his sheets.

My old basement room was empty. It had always had this weird basement smell that I was the only one who could stand for extended periods of time. Without me, the room was just abandoned, which felt so sad. I wasn’t sure where I was going to sleep—I’d brought my sleeping bag, the very one I’d shoved under Davie when I’d raped him, just in case I wasn’t allowed to use my sister Chrissie’s bed. The heavy old desk I’d cuffed him to was still there. I opened up my sleeping bag right there where I’d taken him, got in it with my stolen pair of his underwear, and shot my second load into another of Davie’s condoms. I’d tied off the first one and left it in his bed because, well, that was the sort of annoying thing that I always did.

But it was stupid to waste the whole day inside—I went out with my new laptop to the local Starbucks and hung around. Around 7:30 Davie showed up, furious. He looked amazing—so fucking hot, it didn’t seem possible he was my brother—maybe Mom had sleep around, cause he was just so much better looking than the rest of the family.

“Get in the car,” was all he said.

I got in the car. We drove to the house in silence. I felt a little like crying. We hadn’t seen each other in two months, and that was all he said to me. I kept silent because I knew if I tried to talk, I’d cry.

“Are you crying?” he asked when he’d turned off the car, and we sat in the driveway.

I left my laptop there in the car and just bolted out of it, running blindly in the dark around the house, just wanting to get away. He caught me with a flying tackle that pinned me to the ground painfully. I started sobbing. He threw me up over his shoulder, saying, “Dammit, Tommy, don’t cry, you little shit!” Cursing he carried me back to the car, dropping me by the open passenger’s side door, saying, “Look, shit-for-brains, you could have had your laptop stolen. Now pick it up, lock the car door, and get your ass into the house, now.”

I obeyed, still sobbing. When I got into the house, I lay down on the hall carpet in front of the stairs, acting like a stupid baby.

Davie picked me up again and carried me upstairs into his room, dropping me on the bed. He felt my arms and legs, checking for broken bones, checked my teeth, and then said, “Dammit, Tommy, what the fuck is with you? You’re fourteen, not four! There’s nothing broken, not even your smart-ass lip! This is why I can’t stand you!”

That made me cry harder, and then with a curse, he said, “You act like a baby, I’ll treat you like one! I can’t go out with my friends because of you! Dammit, you little fuck!” And he went for my pants. Shocked I stopped crying and instantly got hard. But I don’t think he even noticed as he jerked down my pants and pulled me over his lap. That first slap made me cry out, “Davie! Oh, god, Davie!” And he kept at it until I was crying and squirming and pleading. He dumped me on the bed, and undid his pants, jerked open the night table drawer, and pulled on a condom. I just watched him on my hands and knees, panting, my red ass quivering, my little cock hard and already wet with precum.

He stuck his hand out to my mouth, and I sucked on his fingers, knowing what he wanted.

“Beg for it,” he said.

“Please, Davie, stick your fingers in me, shove them in me.”

He got on the bed behind me, and I felt his dry hand on my ass. But instead of putting those fingers I’d sucked on inside me, he slumped over me, and I could feel his face and hair on the small of my back and ass.

“Jesus god, what the hell are we doing? Tommy, this is crazy,” he said.

“Davie,” I whined, “I’m you’re little brother, and you haven’t seen me for months. Don’t I deserve some love from my older brother?”

“Tommy, Tommy, Christ,” he said, his face turning so he could press his lips just above my asscrack. One wet finger slid into me, and I pushed back, saying, “God, yes, please.”

“Tommy, how did you get like this? Did anyone, ah, well, ah—“

“Porn, Davie, porn. I watch too much porn. And I can’t come out at school, but I’m gay, so gay, and, oh, god, I want it, I like it, but I’ve never done it with anyone but you.”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy, your first fucking time you rape me?” He sounded so disappointed, so upset, but as he said “rape,” he shoved a second finger in me hard.

“I love you, and we were being separated, and you hit me! How was I supposed to know you loved me!” I cried out, feeling the hurt again.

“So I should have raped you to show you how I feel? Why do you think I was drinking and upset? Do you think I don’t miss you? Why the fuck I would, I don’t know, but you’re not there in the morning, walking in on me in the bathroom. Oh, Christ, that’s why you always would pick the lock and walk in on me, isn’t it? You were trying to look at me naked!”

“Ahhh, god, Davie, it feels so good!” I moaned, ignoring what he said because every speech was punctuated by his shoving his fingers in me hard.

Davie pulled his fingers out and slapped my ass hard, making me cry out again. “Go get the baby oil, Tommy.”

“Hey, you should get some lube, not just condoms,” I said as I got off the bed.

“Lube? God, listen to yourself! How the fuck do you know all this shit?”

“Porn!” I yelled back from across the hall in the bathroom. Soon I had the baby oil and was back in the bedroom. I shoved it in his hands and got on the bed facing him, rolling on my back, pulling my legs up and apart.

“Is this what they do in your gay porn?” he demanded his breathing heavy as he coated his hand.

“Yeah,” I said. “Only they try to find the prostate usually not just blindly shove their fingers inside. You remember, that place that felt good when I fucked you?”

Davie looked both shocked and furious at my question. He grabbed my thigh and pushed my legs back further, making my ass rise off the bed and slapped at one asscheeks hard with his other hand.

“You little shithead! You fucking little shithead!”

His slaps were hard on my ass that was already hot from his early spanking. I cried out, “Ow, Davie, Davie, oh god, Davie, it hurts!” But even though it hurt, I loved it, loved Davie’s passion focused on me, loved my vulnerability and helplessness. One of the first fantasies I’d regularly cum from was imagining Davie spanking me—I know, it sounds really strange. But in my bed at night, I would imagine the feel of his hand slapping down on my ass, and as I did so, I was clenching my ass, pushing my body into the bed. And I often rocked myself into an orgasm that way, thrusting against my sheets. That was back before I’d really seen a lot of porn, and I’d forgotten that fact that night I first was spanked by Davie. But on the ride to my new house with Mom, I’d remembered just about every fantasy I’d ever had and compared it to my memory of the real thing. I’d sat in the front of the rented moving van, my asshole sore and sensitive, with a map open on my lap, pretending to care about the directions so that mom wouldn’t see my erection.

Sometimes I’d slapped my own ass, but the reality of him doing it was so much better than the fantasy. My dick was dancing, and I moaned and wiggled, loving it.

With a curse he stopped and thrust three fingers into me. I screamed, “Davie, yes!” since I didn’t want him having more guilty feelings that might stop him.

“Jesus, Tommy, Jesus, you really like it. It hurt; I don’t get it; I just don’t get it.”

“It doesn’t hurt for me cause I play with myself,” I said, “You should—“

He jerked his hand out of me and sat back on his haunches, his mouth open. “You play with your ass?”

I rolled my eyes at him, little shit that I am, and said, “Ah, I’m gay, so like duh,” I said.

“But you could be the one that fucks,” he said.

“Watch me,” I said because I wanted something in my ass now. I grabbed one of his condoms and then two pencils and a highlighter. I rolled the condoms down over the pencils and highlighter and then smeared that with some of the baby oil. Davie watched horrified, but his dick in that condom stayed hard and even jerked and twitched a little. I lay back and began to fuck myself—I used rubber gloves instead of condoms as I had bought a whole box of them, supposedly for science class. The condoms felt better, and I resolved to get Davie to buy me a bunch of them. My ass was already loose, and two pencils and a highighter are just about the same size as two of Davie’s fingers. I got in a rhythm and started pushing them into me fast and hard at a pace that I couldn’t keep up long.

I didn’t have to—Davie suddenly snarled at me, grabbing my wrist, jerking out my improvised toy, and pushing his cock inside me instead.

Oh god! So much wider, bigger, and better! And we looked at each other—oh, god, that was the biggest turn on of all. That gorgeous face, that face that made my brother so popular, won him so many friends was hanging over me. And the expressions—oh, god, those looks, ah!

“Don’t ever do that again, shithead! You could hurt yourself! And it’s unsanitary you little idiot!”

“Well, what the fuck should I do? I can’t say, Mom, buy me a dildo or vibrator! And shithead, I don’t have your cock every night when I need fucked!”

“As long as you’re here you’ll have my cock every night, you little asshole!”

“Yeah, you like my tight little asshole, don’t you, Davie?”

“You’re one sick motherfucker, Tommy, now shut the fuck up and let me fuck you!”

“Yeah, Davie, fuck me, oh, god, fuck me!” I went crazy, squeezing around his cock, my one hand going at my nipple, pulling at it, my other stroking my dick.

“You sick fuck! What are you doing to your nipple?”

“I like—ohh, ohh--pinching my tits,” I gasped out, hardly able to talk, panting and moaning.

“Tits! For fucks sake, you do not have tits! Girls have tits!” Each time Davie barked out one of his angry little comments he slammed into me, feeling so good. And even though he sounded mad, his face looked anything but angry—he looked, well, like he was close to coming. Oh, god, I hadn’t got to see his face when he’d come last time, and I so wanted to.

“I’m close!” I cried, letting my hand fall away, “If you come, we can go together,” I said. “Please, Davie, please, I want to see you come. Oh, god, Davie, so fucking good!”

“Maybe I don’t want you to see me come,” he said, “maybe I should pull out and fuck you from behind, so I can smack that little ass of yours as I fuck you.”

“No, please, Davie, please, please!” I could see my brother loved my begging, and shameless, I poured it on, “Spank me later, just come in me now, like this! Oh, fuck, Davie, please, please! You can spank me, you can fuck me from behind, just come for me, come in me, love me!”

“Tommy!”

I don’t know if I shouted his name or even made any noise. I know I came, cause I had come all over me, but really the only thing I remember is how he looked shouting my name as he came inside me, came inside me to please me, not to hurt me.

I know now I’m loved, really loved. I saw inside him, I saw the real Davie, I saw all he felt for me, all he was, everything. Yeah, I know it sounds all mystical and shit, but hey, I guess I was high on Davie.

I know it’s wrong, and I was supposed to wait until I was Davie’s age, find another guy like him, and love that guy. But somehow I fucked up, cause I couldn’t wait and just went for my brother, not some brother substitute.

Poor Davie. He really feels guilty about it. But that only backfires on him because when he gets guilty, he gets mad and wants to hurt me. But all he ends up doing is getting me hornier and making our sex hotter and kinkier than ever before. Of course that makes him feel guilty again. Ah! I’m such a lucky kid! Sometimes, he looks a little lost, a little sad. But I’m not going to let it end because I know he loves me, and I love him.

Yeah, that’s my OTP as they say, my one true pair: Davie and me. Forever.