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Felix should have known that the world was trying to tell him something when his best friend cancelled on their camping trip. But exams were finally over, and Felix was so desperate for a much needed change of scenery that he’d decided to go anyway. Besides, it’s not like he would go alone. His brother was the one organizing it and he and some of his university friends were going, so he’d just tag along.
Or so he thought, until he met them face to face and was rudely reminded of how older and cooler they were in comparison to Felix, who was just a freshman. That’s when he begins to seriously miss Jeongin.
And, yeah, maybe the fact that Chan’s girlfriend is also there doesn’t help. Jiyoung is a nice girl, and Felix is happy that Chan finally found someone special enough to introduce to his family. Or—that’s what he should feel. In reality, it’s just weird. Whenever they interact, no matter if it’s smiles or more on the heavy side of PDA, Felix feels like he could crawl out of his own skin. He acknowledges they’re together, he just doesn’t want to see it. No one would. It’s normal, something he has to live with, either by looking away or going somewhere else.
Easier said than done when he’s one in a small group on a camping trip in the middle of the woods.
The trek up is nice enough. The scenery is beautiful, and even though their backpacks are heavy, it’s lightened by the good mood everyone seems to be in. There’s speaking-only games, songs, and funny anecdotes—plenty of chatter to accompany their walk through mossy floor and dew speckled greenery.
Things get a bit trickier when they arrive at the camping site. No matter how well-intentioned Felix is, he’s just not good at this. Not at setting up the tents, nor at cooking with the camping grill so they can eat dinner some time before midnight hits. He’s left to watch as his perfect brother sets up half the tents himself as if it were as easy as breathing, until Minho takes pity on him and assigns him to help set up the dinner utensils—you know, the very easy tasks that literally anyone could do.
However, he stops sneaking glances at his hard working older brother—just to check on him as he lifts heavy stuff, or as he deftly ties things securely—when he sees Chan’s girlfriend and some of the other girls actually cheering on him.
Ugh.
He almost loses his appetite, but it’s luckily easily revived once he’s sitting in front of the fire with a steamy cup of ramen between his hands, and a plate with freshly grilled meat. It’s nice, eating their hard-earned meal, even when Felix can barely participate in the ongoing boisterous conversation because he doesn’t know the people or the situations the group of friends keeps talking about.
Needless to say, when they break out the heavy liquor and the group’s speaking volume begins to escalate together with the topics of conversation, Felix decides to call it a night. The last thing he needs is for their attention to somehow turn to him and make him feel like he’s sticking out like a sore thumb even more than he already does.
He receives the expected booing and cajoling for Chan’s little brother to stay a bit more and have a bit of fun for once, but Felix pretends he doesn’t hear them and goes to his tent. His tent, for him alone, because Chan will be sharing his own with his girlfriend, and Felix doesn’t know Chan’s friends enough to be comfortable sharing a tent with them.
Small blessings.
Still, it’s not an easy feat to fall asleep to the sound of the raucous conversation outside, but Felix eventually manages.
☾
The first thing Felix notices through the wonderful heaviness of sleep is that he feels good. Unusually so. He’s floating, still half in his dream about eating soft oven-warm brownies, but it feels way too nice, like pleasant golden tingles have replaced the blood cells in his veins. The thought snags, and stays, making the solid heaviness of sleep begin to lighten. As it does, he becomes aware of more things. Like the weight all over his back, so grounding, so right.
And like the warm pressure of something hot against Felix’s core.
A silent gasp gets caught in Felix’s throat as a new wave of pleasure blooms through him, triggered by the hardness pushing against sensitive flesh. Two things become starkly clear at the same time. One, that this stimulation is the source of the pleasurable sensation that was as wonderful as out of place. And two, that there’s somebody in Felix’s tent when he should have been alone.
Suddenly alert in the absolute darkness of his tent, Felix’s muscles tense in dreadful anticipation at the intrusion, in more ways than one, but a voice interrupts him before he can do or say something.
“Fell asleep before me, hmm?”
Even though whispered, and even though Felix’s sleep-sluggish mind takes a few precious seconds to take in the man’s voice, there is absolutely no doubt about who it belongs to.
Chan.
His brother.
What is Chan doing? Is he drunk? But Felix knows his brother doesn’t drink, and even if that changed, Chan would never do anything like this to him.
Felix opens his mouth to tell him off, but Chan grinds into him once more, effectively cutting him off and making the words die on the tip of his tongue. The friction is electrifying, and exhilarating, and so, so wrong. It feels good, because any kind of stimulation there will feel good, but this his brother. It’s Chan’s cock that’s pressing against such an intimate spot, and his body should know better than to feel this good at something so prohibited, so why? Why does it feel so wretchedly good that it makes Felix wish this would never stop?
His eyelids flutter at the flood of sensation and the maelstrom of emotions charging against him, a voiceless gasp the only sound that makes it out of his mouth as his smaller body tries to assimilate everything. Immediately, a big hand closes over his mouth, sealing any potential sound from escaping him.
“Shush, love. We have to be quiet or they’ll hear, yeah?” Chan whispers against Felix’s ear, his voice low and sensual in a way Felix has never heard.
It sparks something in him, no matter how wrong it is, making his stomach clench and his heart surge against his blocked lips. He squirms under Chan out of pure instinct, but it’s like his brother is anticipating his moves, reading his body language like only dedicated lovers can. Because before Felix can do anything else—like, for example, push him away—Chan sneaks his other hand under him, effectively pinning Felix’s arms against his body. And, just like that, Felix is rendered immobile and placed to his brother’s liking. So when Chan’s hips inexorably grind down against him once more, the shock of pleasure is ten times better worse than before.
A high, whiny sound is born on Felix’s lips only to die on Chan’s palm, pressed securely over his mouth.
“Hmm. Been dying to fuck you all day, Jiyoungie.”
Jiyoung? Chan thinks that Felix is his girlfriend Jiyoung?
A simultaneous wave of relief and disgust washes over him at the mix-up. Now that he thinks about it, it would be easy to mistake one for the other in low light because they have the same shoulder-length blond hair and similar stature. Inside the tent, where not even the light of the moon reaches them, it’s so dark that it’s no wonder Chan thought Felix was Jiyoung.
It’s a likeness that Felix had never stopped to think about, hadn’t realized until now.
But Felix is Felix. Not Jiyoung. And certainly not Chan’s girlfriend, who he can grind against in the quiet of the night to get himself off.
Felix renews his squirming, trying to put a stop to the barrage of forbidden stimulation that he should never have experienced under the hands of his older brother. But his arms remain pinned by his sides, and he can’t get his knees under him because Chan is laying right between them, keeping him open. Still, he tries, trying to push him off even with his limited mobility, only for Chan to overpower him all too easily. He grinds into Felix with a low chuckle so dark and velvety that it has Felix stopping involuntarily to weather the new wave of pleasure coursing through him.
“Feisty today, huh?” Chan murmurs before kissing his temple, the horribly wonderful action sending sparks of confusing bliss down Felix’s spine. He can’t speak, not with Chan muffling his every sound, but his brother isn’t waiting for him. “That’s fine, you know I like it when you’re feisty, baby.”
And then Chan rolls against him with more vigor, striking Felix’s core at an angle that has a high whine meeting Chan’s silencing hand. It sounds so breathy and different from Felix’s usual voice. But Felix doesn’t have the luxury to dwell on it, because Chan repeats the action, again, and again, and with the pleasure mounting inside him, he feels perilously close to coming under the insistent rutting of his older brother.
No, no, no.
He can’t let it happen. Chan may have come into the wrong tent, but Felix has to stop before things can become even worse than they already are. He wiggles under Chan, tries to push him off, but Chan just takes it in stride, taking Felix’s bucking as a challenge and smothering any attempt to stop this with his greater strength. Felix feels small, and useless, and nowhere near ready for what’s about to happen.
At last Chan seems to notice his struggle, because his hips pause in a deep grind to speak to him again.
“You feel so good, baby, but you’re making it harder to stay silent.” Chan feels so heavy, so big above him, his powerful muscles stilled in a predator’s crouch. In contrast, Felix is trembling through the respite, breathing heavily through his nose as his mouth remains securely blocked by Chan’s strong hand. “You know what our non-verbal signal is, so stop this whenever you want.”
No. Felix doesn’t. Because he’s not Jiyoung, Chan’s girlfriend. He’s Felix, Chan’s younger brother, pinned down by his heavy body on top of his and with his cock rubbing against his most intimate part in glides that are becoming slicker by the second. Because Felix’s confused body is merely reacting, responding in kind to Chan’s wonderful but misplaced actions.
And Felix doesn’t know how to stop it. He’s helpless, uselessly weak as his brother gives him more and more unwanted pleasure that should never have felt this good. In this position, pinned down, restrained, he’s at Chan’s mercy, whether he stops this after they both come or keeps going. If this situation is anything to go by, Chan could continue long into the night, and Felix wouldn’t be able to stop him. He’d be lovingly and inexorably forced to take it, to give to his brother whatever he demands from him.
It’s this thought that sends Felix over the edge, his muscles contracting and his legs quaking as Chan’s hand muffles his strained, bitten-off whine. It feels so right. It feels so wrong.
But above anything, it feels world changing.
“Oh, you came already?” Chan croons against Felix’s burning ear, though he doesn’t let him go, as if he doesn’t trust him to alert their friends of their activities. “Does the fear of being discovered turn you on, honey?”
Chan rubs himself against Felix as if savoring his orgasm, drawing it out a few more seconds until the pleasure melts into Felix’s bloodstream. Chan is… good at this. Something Felix should have never found out, and even less, experienced for himself. Because if this is good already, then how good is Chan at the rest?
The thought alone makes the fire inside Felix reignite.
Once more, Chan isn’t waiting for an actual answer, his hand firmly placed over his mouth. The pressure of Chan’s weight eases off Felix, but he’s so disoriented and boneless after his orgasm that he doesn’t move nor take advantage to get out of the situation.
A shock of cool air on his bare backside brings him back to the present, but just when he realizes the sensation is because Chan lowered Felix’s pants and underwear in the intimate darkness of their shared tent, a wonderfully thick finger sinks into his slick pussy. Probably anticipating the whiny sound that Felix can’t contain at the breach, Chan’s hand presses more firmly against his mouth, reducing the sweet protesting sound to barely nothing. Felix blinks at the absolute blackness surrounding them, his mind trying to catch up with the fact that his brother is fingering him. Chan’s wide and vascular hands are touching him, inside him. But Chan is unaware of his plight and doesn’t allow him that leniency, instead gently pumping his finger in and out of Felix’s wet channel.
Felix’s cheeks flame at the wet sound the movement produces, and he knows it’s not his fault, but at the same time it feels like it is. This shouldn’t be happening at all, and yet here he is, having just had an orgasm under his brother, and gearing up towards a new one thanks to Chan’s fingers slickly gliding into his pussy.
It’s so messed up.
Blissfully ignorant of Felix’s dilemma, Chan adds another finger, this time reaching even deeper inside him. The digits waste no time in crooking against his walls and hitting a spot that has Felix’s whole body jolting at the shock of pleasure. And then Chan hits it again, and again, and Felix feels wild with pleasure. He had never found that spot when having fun by himself, let alone with his past boyfriend, and yet Chan found it so infuriatingly easy, like Felix’s body is an open book that Chan has lovingly perused and knows by heart. And now he’s using this intimate knowledge to his advantage, attacking the spot with merciless drive.
It feels so good Felix feels like he’s going insane. He bucks against the hand at his mouth, against the body hovering over his, and brings his newly freed arms to claw at whatever part of Chan he can reach. It’s mainly his forearms, but his brother is undeterred, wholly focused on Felix and his pleasure.
It’s a battle Felix simply cannot win.
“Gonna have to start calling you my kitty, hm?” Chan murmurs against him. “Shush. You’re going to wake everyone with your pretty moans.”
That’s when Felix realizes he had been making high, pitiful sounds, muffled by Chan’s unshakable hand but dangerously close to being heard over it. Felix knows he shouldn’t, but his body obeys Chan on its own, as if it weren’t Felix’s to command anymore. But when his throat closes against the sound, restricting even his air, the sensations heighten even further. It takes just one more pump of Chan’s fingers and he’s coming again, clenching and unclenching around the slowing digits in rhythmic contractions.
And yet, his brother doesn’t stop, instead keeping the stimulation and prolonging what is most certainly the biggest orgasm Felix has ever had. It keeps going, taking away all of his senses in favor of feeling the highest ecstasy there could ever be. Shivering with the aftershocks and weak with pleasure, Felix digs his fingers against Chan’s forearm and bucks forward, shakily trying to escape his brother.
Chan misunderstands him completely.
“I know, I know. I’ll fuck you now, baby.”
The words don’t even register in Felix’s brain, too busy trying to recover his breath after his high. However, when he hears some shuffling behind him he thinks this might be the end, that everything will be over now.
“Be still for me, love,” Chan croons against his heated ear.
Right before he presses the blunt tip of his cock against Felix’s cunt and pushes in, almost effortlessly sliding inside his body. Felix both feels and hears the sinful groan Chan lets out at the penetration, and the wreckingly hot sound coupled with the forbidden sensation of fullness, of his brother gently fucking into him, makes a new wave of pleasure wash over him, as if his orgasm wasn’t fully done wrecking him with bliss.
He’s barely breathing as his body keeps spasming around Chan’s wonderfully thick cock. No one’s cock should be this perfect. Even less his brother’s.
“So sensitive today,” Chan rasps, and even his brother’s breathlessness fails to give Felix any sense of satisfaction. He’s too wrecked, too far gone for that.
Chan is breath-stoppingly big inside him, but when Felix thinks there’s no more space inside him, that Chan is already fully sheathed, his brother rocks back just to roll back in a little bit further. It shouldn’t even fit, not with Chan’s seemingly ridiculous length, but Felix’s body has been perfectly primed by his brother’s attention, and the wetness soaking him only seems to welcome more of him. Felix takes him, all of him, until Chan’s pelvis meets his butt cheeks, and Felix would have sobbed with wretched relief if Chan’s hand wasn’t still quieting him.
“Fuck, baby,” Chan whispers against his hair, voice raspier than he’s ever heard him. “I fucked you this morning, but now you’re so tight.”
Fully buried inside Felix’s body, Chan circles his hips, not retreating, but like he’s savoring the tightness of his brother’s cunt. The movement draws soundless gasps for air that die on Felix’s lips, his eyes fluttering as the sensation blooms through him in delicious ripples. He feels full, sinfully and heavenly so, and if there had been anything to see other than the darkness of the tent, his vision would have blurred with overwhelmed tears.
This has to be a dream. Or a nightmare. Except nightmares don’t feel good, and dreams don’t feel this excruciatingly good.
Before Felix is even remotely ready for it, Chan begins moving.
And reality just stops existing altogether.
The sensation of Chan’s cock dragging against his walls on its way out is pure sin, and then the powerful thrust back in makes the tears in Felix’s eyes fall down his cheeks. Chan fucks him, gently, lovingly, while keeping him securely pinned to the bedroll so he can’t escape. Like this, Felix is surrounded by his brother’s strength and vigor, a fire roaring in his core because.
His brother is fucking him.
Chan is fucking him, driving in and out of him with sinuous rolls of his hips meant to consume and leave nothing for him. It shouldn’t be Felix feeling this, it should never have been him in this position, yet he feels like he’s forever damned with the knowledge.
Because he was absolutely right. Chan is good at this. Way too good, it’s unfair. It’s been less than a minute and Felix feels blind with pleasure, clenching helplessly around Chan’s cock, body alight with unadulterated bliss.
Chan repositions the hand over his mouth, no sign of stopping any time soon or giving even an inch.
“You’re being so good for me, staying silent,” he huffs against the crown of Felix’s hair. His voice is rough, a huff of breath as his hips keep thrusting into him in moves that make Felix’s toes curl.
It’s not that. This isn’t Felix being good, he doesn’t have enough clarity of thought to want to stay silent. It’s just that he can’t get any sound out even if he wanted to, he’s too busy feeling this unending barrage of sensation internally.
Nothing in this world has the right to feel this good. Each thrust is better than the next, and Chan keeps going, rolling his hips, biting down his own moans as the sounds of the bedroll’s rustling slowly pick up for only them to hear. He doesn’t stop, not even when he periodically murmurs sweet praise to him, like how good Felix—no, Jiyoung—is, how nice his body feels and how good he’ll make him feel in retribution. Felix isn’t allowed to reply, of course, even when that last sentence feels more like a threat than a reward to him.
And then when Chan picks up the rhythm of his thrusts, they’re firmer, faster, and Felix has to put in some desperate effort in order not to sob or moan at the pleasure—he honestly isn’t sure which one would come out of his mouth if he had leave to do so.
Following this pace, it doesn’t take long for Chan to come, his exhales coming out more desperately at the same time that his hips chase Felix’s heat with a hungry drive. Felix is almost disappointed that it’s over, in his mind he thought his brother could go longer, but at that moment he’s just relieved that this is going to be over soon. His eyelids already feel heavy, his muscles wrecked by the unexpected but vigorous fucking.
But then he feels a telltale warmth bloom inside him, and his eyes snap open. Chan… his brother… just came inside him. Bare. Without protection. And maybe he does this regularly with his girlfriend, maybe Jiyoung is on some kind of birth control, it’s probably nothing out of the ordinary for them. But Felix isn’t. And it isn’t, not for him. And now he has his brother’s come painting his insides.
He needs Chan off. He needs to go wash off, clean the come out of his pussy, probably consider taking Plan B as soon as he can get to a pharmacy tomorrow—
But Chan effortlessly suppresses Felix’s resistance once more, holding him down as if Felix wasn’t struggling at all.
“Don’t worry, baby, I can fuck you again.”
In a move that Felix has entirely too little functioning brain cells to understand, Chan maneuvers them so they’re lying on their sides. He somehow manages to stay inside Felix the whole time, keeping them connected despite him already growing soft. And that’s when Chan’s words register, the same instant when the hand not covering Felix’s mouth wanders down, over his stomach until it reaches his clit. The touch makes Felix’s whole body jolt almost violently, but Chan has no trouble keeping him contained in his embrace.
Felix has never been a match for Chan’s sheer strength.
“Stay silent for me a bit more, okay, baby?” Chan whispers, the sound barely heard over Felix’s heavy breathing.
His brother stops momentarily, only to place Felix’s leg over Chan’s and spreading him so his hand has better access.
This is it.
This is the moment when Felix should try to push him back again. To somehow signal that this is wrong, and it isn’t his girlfriend he’s fucking. But… it felt so good. This is the best sex Felix has ever had, to the point he felt like he was going insane with pleasure. No one is ever going to compare to his brother, he’s not going to feel like this ever again. Is it so wrong to want it once more? They already crossed the line that should never have been crossed. Who is there to count all the damning minutes of it? The number of rounds?
Chan takes the decision for him, like the good older brother he is. His hand returns to Felix’s clit, this time unencumbered by the tight space of his legs pressed together. And Felix—Felix has never been the strong of the two. So it’s wretchedly easy to keep his leg where Chan wanted him, and abandon himself to the pleasure.
For some reason Chan knows exactly what to do, how to touch him and how fast or slow to go. Wound up as he was, in just a few seconds Felix is writhing in his hold, breathy and high pitched whimpers that sound completely unlike him leaking from his muffled lips as the pleasure surges inside him, unmatched. But Chan keeps up with him, rubbing his clit with dexterous hands, undeterred by Felix’s involuntary thrashing.
He knows it then, as the irrevocable and sinfully hot truth that it is. That no matter how challenging Felix makes this for his brother—Chan has never lost a competition.
Felix isn’t sure if his eyelids close of their own accord or it’s because his eyes roll back into his head because of the sheer pleasure, but the orgasm that crashes over him is so intense that it leaves him breathless and sightless for the good handful of seconds it lasts. When he comes back to himself, he’s breathing heavily to recover his oxygen while small, overwhelmed sounds meet Chan’s palm.
“Fuck. Feels so good,” Chan grunts from behind him.
And then Chan’s hand, which had been covering Felix’s mouth this whole time, lets him go. Felix sucks in a breath, his body tensing in sick anticipation. But the hand slides down to his neck, and those terribly wonderful fingers stop over both sides of his throat. Just like that, Felix’s voice is gone, his speech capability completely revoked from him by the mere threat.
“Shush, silence,” Chan whispers against his ear, barely audible over Felix’s deafening heartbeat.
But the sound of Chan kissing that particular spot between Felix’s neck and shoulder is obscenely loud in their suddenly quiet tent. Chan’s lips on Felix’s skin feel like the worst kind of sin. They return, again and again, and a whimper builds in Felix’s lungs only to die at the base of his throat.
Fucking was one thing. But this… this is somehow worse. This is love, and devotion, and Felix should never have felt it coming from his brother because he cannot be expected to live without it from this day onward.
Chan keeps kissing his neck, sometimes loud and chaste, sometimes open-mouthed and hot. Felix melts under him, silenced by the deluge of misplaced affection that’s making him an irrecoverable addict as the seconds tick by. And when Chan’s plush lips are replaced by the hint of teeth, the man is fully prepared, hand once again rising to cover Felix’s mouth just in time to silence his high pitched whimper when Chan bites down.
Felix feels electrified, like his veins have been replaced with sparkling wires. If his brother’s kisses were soft and passionate, Chan’s bites are hungry and possessive. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin, no doubt leaving mark upon mark on Felix’s untouched skin.
Felix never knew being claimed this way would feel so ungodly good.
When Chan finally separates from the skin of his neck and breathes heavily over the wet and sensitive area, Felix feels raw, exposed. And when his brother rearranges his limbs so that Felix is exactly where he wants him, spread wide for him while Chan is snugly pressed against his back, Felix lets him, even if it leaves him feeling no more than a doll to be used for his brother’s lust.
“Be good for me again.” The whisper against the nape of his neck has the thin hairs there rising.
He shouldn’t be surprised when Chan nudges his hips into him and Felix realizes that his brother is getting hard again inside him. In hindsight, he should have known that Chan didn’t last as long as he thought precisely because of this, because he knew he’d get hard again in no time and would be able to fuck him all over again. And again. For however many times Chan wants to fuck him, because Felix has finally accepted the reality that he won’t be able to stop him.
Chan hugs him, holds him, before he begins moving, in a pace so slow and careful that it steals Felix’s breathing. In this position, he’s best primed to feel every sinuous roll of Chan’s hips against his core, every wet glide of that sinful hardness that Felix had been missing even if he’s just had it minutes ago. It’s too much, too good. There, in Chan’s strong arms while being so thoroughly fucked, Felix knows his brother has ruined sex for him.
He doesn’t fight Chan’s hold anymore, even if he squirms out of pleasure, and maybe to feel the security of his brother’s arms keeping him in place for him to take. Chan keeps his rhythm steady, rocking into Felix as if following a dance where their heavy breathing is their only soundtrack.
Pleasure and emotion stack layer after layer inside Felix, the sensations rising inside him like he’s never felt before. Though he’s not sad to warrant any crying, Felix’s eyes fill with saltwater that spills down his blushed cheeks as Chan keeps fucking him slowly. Decadently.
It’s laughably easy to succumb to his brother’s effortless dominance, to surrender to the pleasure that’s filling him to the point of overflowing. He doesn’t fight to keep the next orgasm at bay, doesn’t even try, couldn’t even if he wanted to. His breath catches as he comes around Chan’s cock, and it’s quiet but blindingly intense, with wave upon wave of pleasure scorching him from his core to the tips of his fingers.
When Chan keeps going well after his orgasm has melted, when his brother kisses his neck with murmurs of praise, Felix lets him. And when Chan comes inside him only a few minutes later, he welcomes the evidence of his brother’s love inside his body.
They fall asleep this time, after their breathing calms down and the rhythmic tempo becomes their lullaby. Still joined. Still hugging. How could Felix not, after such an unending amount of pleasure, and while safely held in his brother’s arms?
Maybe it’s minutes, or maybe it’s hours. He just knows he fell asleep because he’s woken up from the pleasant heaviness of a dreamless sleep some time later to the feel of a tongue in his pussy.
This time his arms are free to fly up and cover his mouth, to muffle the soft pleasured sounds that threaten to leak out as Chan licks and sucks him with an ardency that has Felix weak and pliant under him. By this point it doesn’t surprise him that his brother seems an expert at this too, doesn’t question it, and instead just surrenders to his skilled lips and tongue as if that’s how it’s meant to be.
Chan is absolutely merciless. With a ravenous hunger that doesn’t account for the multiple rounds they’ve already gone for, Chan has him coming three more times, with barely any respite between orgasms. With each one, Felix has to struggle to and clamp his arm over his mouth in order to contain any sounds that may betray him.
Not now.
Don’t let him find out.
But his brother doesn’t, and when Chan leaves his favored spot between Felix’s legs to fuck him again, Felix is glad for the cover of darkness. Because even when Chan is fucking him face to face, he cannot see that it’s actually Felix under him.
This time the fucking is quick, both of them too tired to last longer than a handful of minutes, and Felix welcomes Chan’s weight on top of him as much as he welcomes sleep.
The next time Felix wakes up, it’s still pitch black outside and Chan is softly snoring behind him. With his heartbeat picking up, Felix knows it’s his chance to leave. To put his clothes back on as best as he can, leave the tent and try to come up with a plausible lie about tonight that will avoid destroying their sibling relationship forever.
Felix grits his teeth against his pleasure-weakened muscles and the sore and sensitive areas hindering his moves, but he manages to rise to a kneeling position. The plastic material of the bedroll makes every slight move sound overly loud in the quiet night, but Felix tries his best to be careful, to be silent.
His best isn’t enough.
Because in his next breath, Chan rolls over and snakes both arms around Felix’s waist before dragging him back to the bed, and Felix knows he’s lost the fight.
“Still not done with you,” Chan rasps, the sleep making his voice sound lower, more tantalizing.
Chan maneuvers them both until Felix is on top, and Felix has no strength to stop his brother as he grabs his cock and feeds it into Felix’s wet and welcoming body.
It’s not Felix’s fault, right? He’s not resisting anymore because it’s futile, because by now he’s learned his lesson and if Chan wants to fuck him, then Chan will, right? So it’s okay to relax on top of his brother’s muscled body, and to let his eyes close as his core pulses with newfound warmth thanks to Chan’s cock.
“Too tired, baby?” Chan asks, incorrectly interpreting the reason why Felix doesn’t move, doesn’t ride his cock like a normal lover would.
Felix nods with his head on Chan’s chest, throat tightening preemptively to close up on a sound that won’t make it out of his lips. Chan croons, and his hands slip down to circle Felix’s waist.
“It’s okay. Sleep. I’ll make you feel good while you sleep.”
And with that, his brother moves Felix’s hips to his own liking, dragging him back and forth on his cock, as if he were no more than a warm body for his brother to fuck. Or a cock sleeve. Every thought is more demeaning than the last, but instead of bringing dismay and snuffing out the flame of Felix’s desire, they make it burn even hotter, as if this kind of helplessness turns him on.
Felix didn’t need the confirmation that there’s something really, really wrong with him.
Feeling wonderfully heavy and weak from sleep and exhaustion, Felix lets himself be used, his light weight an advantage as Chan chases his own pleasure. And this time he knows to brace himself when Chan’s hand inevitably finds its way to Felix’s mouth, muffling him just before he plants his feet and starts fucking up into him savagely, all languidness from before forgotten.
He comes like this, draped on top of Chan, securely held down while his brother seeks his own release.
He doesn’t remember falling asleep after that.
The world doesn’t wait for the two lovers, though, and dawn breaks before Felix has one more chance to wake up before his brother and flee their tent.
Even worse.
This time he’s not the first one to rouse.
He first hears the rustling of the bedroll, movement behind him, and then he feels the grip around his torso readjust to bring him closer. He’s just starting to surface from his deep sleep when he hears a sharp intake of breath, followed by a horrified noise.
Felix’s eyes flutter open as dread coils in his gut.
There’s absolutely no chance to flee now.
He shouldn’t have slept. He should have stayed awake after that last time and crawled out with whatever strength he had instead of falling asleep. He should have known better, he should have been more careful.
He should have avoided this at all costs.
Panicked blinks clear his eyesight, only to see Chan staring down at him, eyes wide in shock. For a fleeting moment, he wonders what his brother sees. Is it the dried pleasured tears on his cheeks? His marked up neck? His undoubtedly flushed face and debauched hair?
Or maybe it’s the come he feels leaking out of him.
“Fuck. Felix.”
His name, finally.
Only this is the last thing he wants to hear right now.
Felix wonders if there’s a way to keep himself from breaking at the pain in his brother’s voice, and the horrible realizations that dawn brought with it.
His arms cross over his naked body, as if to hide himself from Chan, though he knows damn well there’s no escaping this.
No escaping them.