“Oh no, bro!" 05 (Patreon)

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Chapter 5: Tension

I was distracted all day at school. Just constantly off. My mind kept drifting back to the morning, to the edge I’d left myself on, to the way I’d stopped short on purpose. I hadn’t told myself why, but I knew. I was holding it. Saving it. For something. And when Brett left the shower, I had the bluest balls of my life.

Practice didn’t help. Running made everything worse. The friction, the heat, the way my body refused to get into game mode. Every time I stretched, every time I adjusted my shorts, it reminded me that I hadn’t finished that morning. That I was still carrying a huge load in my body that needed to get out. Images of porn flashed through my mind the whole time. Brett's big cock made an appearance in my brain too. My stomach was constantly in knots thinking about what the fuck must be wrong with me. But as long as no one else knew what was going on at my house

When I got home, my bag hit the floor hard. The house was quiet, but I knew he was there.

I walked in and found him on the couch.

Underwear on. Shirt off. Legs spread just enough to make it obvious he knew I’d look.

I didn’t hesitate this time. This time, I’m the one who wanted to hang out with him on the couch. He had left me hanging, and I was over pretending that I didn’t care. I still hadn’t finished since I played with my butt that morning. I had edged myself like crazy and gotten off and on boners all day through school. It had been an aching presence for over twelve hours by the time I came home and saw him there, casually watching TV yet again.

I told myself this was just about sitting down. About normal stuff. About killing time before dinner. But my body knew better. Every step toward the couch made my pulse pick up, like I was choosing something instead of letting it happen. I could feel heat pooling low in my stomach as I took the empty cushion beside him, close enough that our thighs brushed when I settled in.

He didn’t move away. That felt intentional. I adjusted how I sat, spreading my legs a little, then wondered if he noticed. I wondered if he was doing the same math in his head, pretending this was casual while feeling the same pressure I was. The TV kept playing, laugh track and all, but neither of us reacted to it. I could smell his soap mixed with the faint salt of sweat, and it did something to me that I didn’t want to unpack yet.

I shifted once more, my knee bumping his. “Sorry,” I said automatically, even though I wasn’t. He glanced down at the contact, then back up, lips twitching like he was holding something back. The space between us felt charged in a quiet way, like we were both waiting to see who would acknowledge it first. 

It felt normal to be alone with him now. I wasn’t tense anymore about when his next lewd joke was coming. I expected it. I virtually looked forward to it.

I dropped down next to him like that’s where I’d planned to be all along.

“You’re home early,” he said, not looking away from the TV.

“Practice sucked,” I said. “Coach was in a mood.”

He nodded, still casual. Still pretending this was normal. Something about that made my chest tighten. The fact that it did feel normal now scared me more than when everything felt off.

Our legs touched. Neither of us moved.

He shifted, then glanced down at himself, lifting his waistband and hooking his shorts and underwear below his dick and balls. He was half hard, as usual. He jiggled it around a bit, letting it air out basically.

“Does this look normal to you?” he asked, pointing at the faint line running down the back of his balls.

“Yeah,” I said, already short of breath. “Looks fine.”

Normally, that would’ve been a joke. A setup. A taunt, but today it was a tease.

He smiled like he knew it.

I stared at the screen, then said it before I could stop myself.

“I saw you. With the remote.”

The room went quiet.

He turned his head slowly, studying my face. Not surprised. Not angry.

“I know,” he said. “I found the underwear.”

The silence stretched. My ears rang. We were saying it out loud for the first time.

“I fingered myself this morning,” I said. The words felt unreal leaving my mouth. I could feel my face twitching a bit out of nerves. I was hard as hell already, and I added. “I did it because of you.”

He paused for just a second, studying my face, while my eyes refused to look at him.

“How was it?” he asked.

“Fucking slapped,” I said automatically, a nervous smile curling my lips.

He exhaled a laugh, then leaned closer.

“Show me.”

I froze.

“You spied on me,” he said softly. “It’s only fair.”

I was red. Ashamed. Terrified. Hard enough that there was no hiding it.

“You’re such a freak,” I said, but my voice didn’t carry any bite.

He stood up, gesturing toward my room.

I followed.

I dropped my pants and shirt on the way in. We didn’t talk as the door closed behind us. My heart raced.

I lay back on the bed. Lifted my legs. My hands shook.

He knelt in front of me.

At this point, I didn’t want space. I wanted him there. I had felt it when he left me alone in the shower. The absence had hurt more than the tension.

I started touching myself over my underwear.

He reached down and pulled my underwear. I didn't stop him, and when my ass was exposed, I reached down for my cheeks. He slowly pulled until my boxer briefs came off my feet, and he dropped them on the floor. 

I started poking my hole again, just getting used to the feeling of doing it with him watching. Everything felt sharper and heightened with him there as I stroked myself, trying to build up to the effort of penetrating myself again, this time with an audience. I thought about him shoving the remote inside himself, and I felt inspired to do this.

He suddenly stood and left the room, his tented underwear leading the way. Somehow I knew he would come back this time. We had gone this far. I just held still, my legs in the air, my most vulnerable areas on display.

He came back a moment later with the tube of Vaseline that was under our sink for years with no discernible use, until now.

“Oh,” I said. “So that’s what you used.”

He didn’t answer. Just squeezed some into his palm. Rubbed it between his hands.

I flinched with tension when he reached down to my ass, but I didn't pull away. I looked at my ass as he rubbed a circle around my hole. Something was finally happening. It freaked me out, but it felt inevitable at this point, and to be honest, my body was as desperate for it as my mind was terrified. The taboo nature of what was going on in my head had given me a higher resting pulse for weeks, and now we were moving on from implication to experimentation. My body was sweating even though it wasn’t hot out. His erection throbbed in his underwear while his hand continue to press more and more firmly against my hole. I held my cock, squeezing it every few seconds, just to milk out another drop of pre-cum.

“That feels good, dude,” I said, looking down my body at him.

He looked up at me, and our eyes met. He didn’t say anything as he pushed his middle finger deep inside me in one motion. 

He studied my face closely as he started feeling around, pushing and prodding.

“It’s…” I started, struggling to form a coherent thought, “it’s so different when you do it. It’s better.”

The corner of his mouth perked up, almost like a smirk, but with as much surprise as pride.

He stuck a second finger in me. It was so much easier with the vaseline, and with him controlling things. When he started prodding in and out with some aggression, I lay my head back and closed my eyes. The whole thing was too much for me. I felt like I was getting jerked off through my ass. I wasn’t even touching myself but felt like I might cum. The taboo of who was doing it to me was only making it hotter. 

When I looked down again, his underwear was gone. His big, superior dick, two years younger than me, was pointing right at me, almost threatening to invade my hole. He stroked it in time with his fingering of my hole. He started stretching me out, pushing outward at every angle. The fear returned as I pictured that thing stretching me open. 

His stroking went crazy, and his thumb pressed into my gooch while he pushed every button inside me that he could find. I was getting my prostate slammed and I had to let go of my dick or else I was going to cum. The only sounds in the room were our breathing getting faster and faster, his fingers slurping in and out of my hole, and his squishy hand stroking his big, lubed up cock. 

Before I could think clearly, the words spilled out of my mouth.

“Do you wanna put it in me?” 

His face scrunched, his hand paused on his cock. I thought he looked conflicted, for the first time ever. But then I realized it wasn’t emotional struggle, but rather an unstoppable orgasm that was showing on his face.

“Shit,” he said, looking down. He released a long string of white, thick cum that streaked from my chest to my balls to my ass. He aimed his next shots downward, but they still got all over me. He kept his hand in my ass, like he didn’t want me to think he had forgotten about me. His fast paced fingers never stopped pummeling my hole, and I felt my ass pulsing before I even realized that I was over the edge as well.

The feeling was nirvana. I gripped the sheets beneath me, and it felt like every ounce of dopamine in my body was released at once. I forgot about time and space. It was like having three orgasms at once. Everything that was built up from that morning, the edging I gave myself, the teasing he gave me in the shower, the tension in my body all day was exploding together at once. 

I didn’t even notice until I came out of my daze that he had grabbed my dick, milking out the rest of my load while his other hand worked me from the inside. His own dick still pointed at me like a wolf staring down a deer, but the hunt was over for now. We had released together, and I was the cum rag this time. 

“I’m… sorry,” he said, his eyes surveying the mess all over me. 

He pulled his hands away from me, letting my hole rest, and my cock drip the end of its contents onto my abs.

“No, it’s ok,” I said, catching my breath and dropping my legs. 

He stood back, wiping some of the vaseline and cum off onto his thighs. I looked at him, his skinny, naked body somehow contrasting with his large, developed, manly dick. I had to say something, finally. 

“Dude, why is your dick so much bigger than mine?”

He laughed, wiggling his hips.

“Yeah,” he said, “I noticed that. I remember the first time I saw yours. I was peeking on you in the shower. I wanted to see yours to know how big I was going to get when I’m older, but…”

“It’s not fair,” I said, “I’m supposed to be the big brother.”

“You have the muscles at least,” he said.

We laughed. I nodded. It didn’t matter anyway. What we had discovered together was beyond any kink. It was completely taboo. 

“So,” he said after a moment, “Do you wanna take a shower?”