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Nov. 10th, 2010 08:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Prescriptions
Author:
ellerkay (previously published under
collectively)
Pairing: Michael/Gob
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: ~3,000
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Warnings: Incest, drugs
Summary: This is the story of a man with a terrible headache, and the one brother who could make it all better. This is Arrested Development.
This is the story of a man with a terrible headache, and the one brother who could make it all better. This is Arrested Development.
***
Michael Bluth entered the living room of the model home to find his brother Gob sprawled out on the couch, watching television.
“How’s it going, Gob?” Michael asked, sinking –
fortunately, not literally this time -
-onto the same couch, a little ways away.
“Not much, you?” Gob replied absently, and inappropriately.
Michael sighed. “I’ve got a splitting a headache. Where is everybody?”
“George Michael’s with Anne –”
“Her?” Michael interrupted.
At this point, it was a reflex.
Gob snorted. “Yeah. She’s not exactly winning second place in any beauty pageants, is she? Anyway, Lindsay and Tobias are doing something. I thought Lindsay said they were having a date, but I must’ve misheard.”
He hadn’t.
*Cut to Lindsay and Tobias at a nice restaurant, sitting silently as they wait for their food. Both look painfully awkward and bored.*
Back at the model home, Gob was still reporting on the whereabouts of the household.
“And Maeby is somewhere, I don’t know. She said she was going out.”
“You didn’t try to find out where?”
“I’m sure she called Lindsay and Tobias.”
She hadn’t.
“And what are you doing here?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m watching TV.”
Michael decided not to belabor the point and instead turned his attention to the movie Gob was watching, Baby Mama.
“Doesn’t that actress look a lot like your ex-wife, Gob?”
“What?” Gob squinted at the TV. “I don’t think so. But I kind of forget what she looks like.”
The movie went to commercial and Michael gave a soft groan, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb.
“What?” Gob asked, mistaking the sound for a word.
“It’s this headache, it won’t go away. I took a couple aspirin an hour ago and it didn’t make a dent.”
“Here.” Gob reached into his left pocket, pulled out a prescription bottle, and tossed it to Michael without glancing at it, or at Michael, so it ended up on the floor several feet from the couch.
“Take one of these. It’s extra-strength ibu profen.”
Michael bent to retrieve the bottle, wincing at the throb from his head. He opened the bottle and shook out a tiny blue pill, which had a sort of funny U-shape stamped on it.
“It’s awfully small, are you sure this is extra-strength?” Michael asked doubtfully.
Gob grunted in a vaguely affirmative manner. His eyes were glued to the TV screen, which was playing a “Girls With Low Self-Esteem” commercial. Michael shrugged and popped the pill into his mouth, then went to the kitchen for a glass of water. When he returned to the living room he gave Gob back his bottle and sat back down on the couch to nurse his pounding head and wait for the pill to kick in.
***
Twenty minutes later, Michael’s headache was gone. Not only that, but he was feeling better and more relaxed than he had in…well, ever.
Michael gave a hum of contentment so loud it was almost a moan and Gob glanced up at him. “Didn’t it help?” he asked, misinterpreting the noise.
“Oh, yes,” Michael sighed. “I feel...great.”
“Really? That’s good.” Gob was turning back towards the TV when Michael gave another half-groan, sinking further into the couch.
“This couch is so comfortable. God, I can’t believe how good I feel! Those pills are great. Everyone should take these, every single day.”
Gob was watching Michael carefully now, frowning. “Hey Michael, let me see your eyes.”
“Okay,” Michael said agreeably, smiling. Gob leaned in close. Michael’s pupils were huge.
Uh-oh.
“Uh-oh,” Gob said.
“What? What uh-oh? There’s nothing wrong! Everything is…awesome.”
“Um.” Gob rifled through his right pocket and pulled out a prescription bottle. He opened it and shook out a large white pill. “Is this what you took?”
“What? No, it was small and blue, and it had a U on it.”
“I think that might’ve been a horseshoe, actually,” Gob muttered. “Damn, that bastard was supposed to give me clovers.” He pulled a prescription bottle from his other pocket and glanced inside.
“Uh. Oops,” he said.
Michael tried to sit up abruptly, but everything felt so good that he ended up sort of floating into a more erect position. “What do you mean, oops?”
Gob was cringing like he was expecting to get hit. “Uh…you might have…sort of…takensomeecstasy,” he finished all in a rush.
“Taken some…Ecstasy?” Michael exclaimed. Suddenly he was far too warm and he unfastened the first couple buttons on his shirt, feeling anxious.
“Don’t worry!” Gob said quickly. “I’ve done it tons of times. It’s fun.”
“Fun?!” Michael started, but Gob put his glass of water in his hand.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
From his older brother, these were not words that filled Michael with confidence.
“Here, drink some water. You need to drink lots of water.” Michael drank, and the water tasted so fresh and felt so cool and soothing flowing over his tongue and down his throat that he kept drinking, making small noises of pleasure. He had drained three-quarters of the glass before Gob pulled it away.
“Not too much! You’ll throw it up.” Gob thought for a moment. “Well, I’d better do this with you.” He was swallowing a pill with a sip from Michael’s glass before Michael could react.
“Hey hey, I thought you were supposed to be taking care of me!” Michael protested.
“I am! You don’t want to roll on your own, it’s no fun. I’ll get us both some water.” Gob disappeared into the kitchen. “Do you have any lollipops or, uh, binkys or anything?” he called.
“Uh…pacifiers, no, but I think we got some Tootsie Roll Pops for the kids.”
“Perfect.” The sound of several loud bangs came from the kitchen.
“They’re on the island, Gob, in the candy bowl,” Michael said, hoping all the cupboard doors were still on their hinges. “Hey, I want cherry!”
Gob returned to the room and tossed a sucker at Michael. He put two full glasses of water down on the coffeetable in front of them.
“What’s the lollipop for?” Michael asked, unwrapping his.
“So you don’t grind your teeth,” Gob replied.
“I’m not –”
Michael realized that he was, in fact, grinding his teeth. He stopped, then did it again. It felt great.
“Maybe I want to grind my teeth,” Michael said thoughtfully.
“It’ll give you a jawache in the morning. Try the lollipop,” Gob advised.
Michael did. It was nearly as good as grinding his teeth, and it tasted much better.
He sat back with a happy sigh. They were quiet for fifteen or twenty minutes, while Gob watched TV and Michael stared into the overhead lights, wondering why he had never noticed how stunningly beautiful they were. Also, the lollipop was delicious. The soft support of the couch seemed to cradle him. Michael was suddenly inspired to take off his socks and dig his toes into the carpet, and was well rewarded by the delightful sensation.
“You know,” Michael said suddenly. Gob looked at him – Michael had a big, goofy smile on his face. “I never would’ve done this on purpose, but since it happened, I’m kind of glad. And I can do it with you!” He reached out and ruffled Gob’s hair affectionately. “You’re a good brother.” The feeling of Gob’s hair was both pleasant and fascinating, so he kept running his fingers through it. Gob’s eyes fluttered closed and he moved his head with the caress of Michael’s fingertips.
“I think this shit’s started to kick in,” he said dreamily.
“Maybe you should drink some water,” Michael said.
“Mm,” Gob muttered noncommittally, then launched himself into Michael’s arms, half-lying in his lap and hugging him awkwardly, stretched across the couch. Gob’s hugs were always abrupt. “You’re a good brother too,” he declared, voice muffled. His face was pressed into Michael’s chest, halfway between his shoulder and his armpit.
“Thanks, Gob,” Michael said. The hug felt surprisingly good, and he let himself settle into it as he never had before, enjoying Gob’s warm weight. Gob turned his head and rested it on Michael’s shoulder, and Michael ran his fingers through Gob’s hair again, and over the back of his neck, still fascinated by the sensation. Gob gave a little sigh and pressed his lips to Michael’s neck.
The feeling was so good it sent a jolt through Michael’s body straight to his groin and he jumped. Taking Gob by the shoulders, he held him at arm’s length, suddenly terrified.
“Gob, what are we doing?” he asked, with a false calm.
“What are you talking about? We’re rolling. That’s what you do when you roll.”
“You kiss your brother’s necks?”
“Well, not Buster’s.” Gob shuddered, and Michael had to suppress a shudder of his own.
“Whether it’s Buster or me, I’m not sure it’s really…right.”
Gob looked confused. “Sure it is. Everyone takes Ecstasy to make out. It’s about feeling good. Look, I’ll show you.” He leaned forward and kissed Michael on the lips. Michael froze for a moment, but the drug’s influence was distracting him, focusing his attention on the soft warmth of the flesh against his, the wet heat of lips and tongue, and Gob was actually a really good kisser…Gob was…oh, shit, Gob!
Michael pushed him away, horrified at what was happening and still more horrified at the realization that his body appeared to be not at all horrified, but actually enjoying itself thoroughly.
“Gob, we’re…we’re brothers, this is – it’s really wrong. And I’m not even gay!”
Gob shrugged. “Me either, but it doesn’t count if you’re on Ecstasy.”
“That’s not really the main problem.”
Gob looked downcast. “You really shouldn’t take Ecstasy and not get to hook up with anyone,” he said sadly. “I know you’ll never do this again. I just…want to show you a good time.” He ran his hand up Michael’s chest. Even through his shirt the heat was intense and Michael’s back arched at the roughness of the fabric over his nipple, his mouth falling open. Gob let his hand continue upwards to rub the back of his neck and then run his fingers through Michael’s hair. Michael was beginning to see how Gob got so many women, something which had been a mystery to him for years.
He tried to suppress this thought and think rationally. “Gob…why do you have this stuff, anyway?”
Gob’s hand stopped moving and Michael had to bite his lip not to tell him to keep going. “Well, sometimes girls like to take it before we fuck. This girl I was seeing asked for some, but we broke up before we got a chance to take it.”
“Why do you carry it around with you?”
“It’s always good to be prepared, Michael.”
Michael half-smiled. “I bet you always have a condom in your wallet, too, huh?”
Gob frowned. “No, why would I have that?”
Steve Holt!
“Anyway…” Michael tried to remember what his point had been, and Gob took the opportunity to slip a couple fingers into the gap between two of the buttons on Michael’s shirt. He leaned in to kiss the skin at the nape of Michael’s neck, exposed by his open collar. Michael felt like his brain was short-circuiting, unable to think about anything but how good he felt and how wrong this was. Because it was wrong.
…Hot wrong.
When the phrase entered his head it was as if the logic processors in his mind clicked into place – either that, or they had shut down entirely. Because suddenly, Michael was realizing that after all, they were on drugs and couldn’t really be held accountable for their actions, and it’s not like this was hurting anyone after all and the incest taboo was a part of society and evolution because of the risk of inbreeding, and honestly it’s not like either of them was going to get pregnant, and now Gob was unbuttoning his shirt and Michael could hardly move, let alone protest.
Michael’s hands fell limply to his sides and he let his head fall backwards against the couch. Gob was unbuttoning his shirt, humid lips on his skin and Michael shivered. Gob ran his hands up Michael’s chest, bare now, and Michael responded automatically, arching into the touch. He felt like he was watching this from a very long way away.
Gob’s lips were by his earlobe now, and he dragged his teeth over it before speaking in a low voice. “You…you okay, Michael?”
“Oh, sure,” Michael said. His voice sounded far away, too. “Just – you know. Sitting here, letting my brother seduce me. It’s a normal night.”
Gob sounded unsure now. “If you don’t like it –”
“That’s the problem, Gob. I do like it.” Refusing to think about what he was doing, Michael suddenly found energy in his limbs. He rested a hand on the back of Gob’s neck and pulled his face close, kissing him roughly and with a certainty he didn’t feel. There was no backing out now.
Gob kissed him back eagerly, with that slightly desperate quality that pervaded almost everything he did, and which was both endearing and repulsive. Michael found himself quite naturally sliding his free hand up Gob’s shirt, and Gob moaned into his mouth. With his hand on his chest, Michael could feel Gob’s heart racing.
Gob pulled back and Michael watched as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt. He pulled it off and threw it carelessly to the floor, then bent down to kiss and nip and suck at Michael’s neck again. Michael’s eyes rolled back in his head and he lifted his hands to Gob’s arms, touching his skin and squeezing his shoulders, feeling like he was holding on for dear life. Gob straddled Michael’s leg and Michael bit back a groan at the feeling of his cock pressing into his thigh. It made his own, desperately hard cock throb. Gob pulled away again and Michael saw him making a face like he was thinking very hard.
It looked a little painful.
Quite suddenly Gob was on the floor between Michael’s knees. He ran his hands up the inside of Michael’s legs to fumble with his belt, and Michael was panicking again.
“I thought we were just making out!” he said, voice high and frightened.
“This is making out,” Gob said, undoing Michael’s belt with unnerving ease and working the button and zipper just as fast. He freed his cock through the slit in his boxers and Michael bit his lip hard, hips thrusting into Gob’s warm hand.
“Gob,” he said helplessly, lips parted. “I don’t – I don’t think that –” Gob licked a long, slow line up his shaft and circled a couple times around the head, and Michael was pressing his back into the couching, gasping, no longer able to form a coherent sentence.
Gob closed his mouth around the head and Michael’s head swam. He was grinding his teeth hard now, but that was really the least of his worries as his brother took him deep into his throat. He let his tongue slither along the underside again and Michael reached out blindly, hand finding the back of Gob’s neck and squeezing hard. Gob moved his head slowly up and down and Michael thought he would scream.
“Gob –” he finally managed to gasp out, “faster -” Always eager to please, Gob bobbed his head faster and with a defeated groan, Michael let his hips pump into Gob’s willing mouth. Gob held his hip with one hand and the other slid to his stomach, making the muscles there quiver and clench. Michael could feel his orgasm approaching with embarrassing swiftness and he tried to give his brother warning.
“Gob, you should – I’m gonna – I’m g- uhn,” and with a guttural noise somewhere between a moan and a cry, Michael spilled down Gob’s throat, shocked and rather amazed to see Gob swallowing eagerly.
When he had finished Michael lay limply back, feeling so good and so confused he was seriously considering never moving from the couch again. Gob rose slowly and shot him a little grin, then started undoing his own belt. Michael felt the fear rising again, this time without the distraction of insistent arousal to soften it.
“Gob, I don’t know if –” he began.
“It’s okay,” Gob said. “You don’t have to do anything.” He lay down on the couch, letting his face rest against the outside of Michael’s thigh, and started stoking himself, slowly and then with increasing rapidity. His eyes closed and his mouth hung open.
Michael felt guilty. Gob had…well, he wasn’t going to think too hard about what Gob had done to him, but it had been a big favor. And now he was completely failing to return it. Gob would probably have accepted a check as a thank you, but Michael thought a personal touch would mean more to him. He struggled not to think about of the fact that he had just considered giving his brother money for blowing him. Definitely time for a personal touch.
Brain screaming at him about what a bad idea this was, Michael reached slowly down and took a hold of his brother’s wrist. Gob’s eyes opened and the motion of his hand stopped.
“Michael?” he said, uncertainly.
“It’s okay, Gob,” he said, feeling anything but okay as he pulled gently on Gob’s wrist and replaced Gob’s hand with his own.
The Ecstasy was still affecting Michael, and for a moment he forgot what he was doing and got lost in the sensation of touching –
disturbing thought blocked
The velvet softness of the skin, the hard length, the heat…He ran a finger over the head and Gob made a little noise of pleasure, recalling him to the task at hand.
So to speak.
Michael swallowed and started stroking slowly. Gob’s hips bucked and he whined, reaching a hand up to clutch at Michael’s thigh, rubbing his face against his jeans. Michael sped up the rhythm and Gob pumped into his hand, moaning. His thrusts quickly got more erratic and with a grunt he came into Michael’s hand.
Michael wiped his fingers on the couch and let his head fall back again, sighing. He did his best to lose himself in the good feelings the Ecstasy was providing him, but it was more difficult now. He wished he still smoked. A cigarette would have been very helpful at that moment.
Gob shifted to put his head in Michael’s lap. “Are you mad?” he asked, and Michael looked down at him quickly.
“What? No, I’m not mad at you, Gob.” He let his fingers do what they wanted, which seemed to be to stroke Gob’s hair and neck. “You’re a good brother.”
“Thanks.” Gob sounded relieved. “You’re a good brother, too. Way better than Buster.”
“Much, much better than Buster,” Michael agreed.
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Pairing: Michael/Gob
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: ~3,000
Disclaimer: All for fun, none for profit.
Warnings: Incest, drugs
Summary: This is the story of a man with a terrible headache, and the one brother who could make it all better. This is Arrested Development.
This is the story of a man with a terrible headache, and the one brother who could make it all better. This is Arrested Development.
***
Michael Bluth entered the living room of the model home to find his brother Gob sprawled out on the couch, watching television.
“How’s it going, Gob?” Michael asked, sinking –
fortunately, not literally this time -
-onto the same couch, a little ways away.
“Not much, you?” Gob replied absently, and inappropriately.
Michael sighed. “I’ve got a splitting a headache. Where is everybody?”
“George Michael’s with Anne –”
“Her?” Michael interrupted.
At this point, it was a reflex.
Gob snorted. “Yeah. She’s not exactly winning second place in any beauty pageants, is she? Anyway, Lindsay and Tobias are doing something. I thought Lindsay said they were having a date, but I must’ve misheard.”
He hadn’t.
*Cut to Lindsay and Tobias at a nice restaurant, sitting silently as they wait for their food. Both look painfully awkward and bored.*
Back at the model home, Gob was still reporting on the whereabouts of the household.
“And Maeby is somewhere, I don’t know. She said she was going out.”
“You didn’t try to find out where?”
“I’m sure she called Lindsay and Tobias.”
She hadn’t.
“And what are you doing here?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m watching TV.”
Michael decided not to belabor the point and instead turned his attention to the movie Gob was watching, Baby Mama.
“Doesn’t that actress look a lot like your ex-wife, Gob?”
“What?” Gob squinted at the TV. “I don’t think so. But I kind of forget what she looks like.”
The movie went to commercial and Michael gave a soft groan, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb.
“What?” Gob asked, mistaking the sound for a word.
“It’s this headache, it won’t go away. I took a couple aspirin an hour ago and it didn’t make a dent.”
“Here.” Gob reached into his left pocket, pulled out a prescription bottle, and tossed it to Michael without glancing at it, or at Michael, so it ended up on the floor several feet from the couch.
“Take one of these. It’s extra-strength ibu profen.”
Michael bent to retrieve the bottle, wincing at the throb from his head. He opened the bottle and shook out a tiny blue pill, which had a sort of funny U-shape stamped on it.
“It’s awfully small, are you sure this is extra-strength?” Michael asked doubtfully.
Gob grunted in a vaguely affirmative manner. His eyes were glued to the TV screen, which was playing a “Girls With Low Self-Esteem” commercial. Michael shrugged and popped the pill into his mouth, then went to the kitchen for a glass of water. When he returned to the living room he gave Gob back his bottle and sat back down on the couch to nurse his pounding head and wait for the pill to kick in.
***
Twenty minutes later, Michael’s headache was gone. Not only that, but he was feeling better and more relaxed than he had in…well, ever.
Michael gave a hum of contentment so loud it was almost a moan and Gob glanced up at him. “Didn’t it help?” he asked, misinterpreting the noise.
“Oh, yes,” Michael sighed. “I feel...great.”
“Really? That’s good.” Gob was turning back towards the TV when Michael gave another half-groan, sinking further into the couch.
“This couch is so comfortable. God, I can’t believe how good I feel! Those pills are great. Everyone should take these, every single day.”
Gob was watching Michael carefully now, frowning. “Hey Michael, let me see your eyes.”
“Okay,” Michael said agreeably, smiling. Gob leaned in close. Michael’s pupils were huge.
Uh-oh.
“Uh-oh,” Gob said.
“What? What uh-oh? There’s nothing wrong! Everything is…awesome.”
“Um.” Gob rifled through his right pocket and pulled out a prescription bottle. He opened it and shook out a large white pill. “Is this what you took?”
“What? No, it was small and blue, and it had a U on it.”
“I think that might’ve been a horseshoe, actually,” Gob muttered. “Damn, that bastard was supposed to give me clovers.” He pulled a prescription bottle from his other pocket and glanced inside.
“Uh. Oops,” he said.
Michael tried to sit up abruptly, but everything felt so good that he ended up sort of floating into a more erect position. “What do you mean, oops?”
Gob was cringing like he was expecting to get hit. “Uh…you might have…sort of…takensomeecstasy,” he finished all in a rush.
“Taken some…Ecstasy?” Michael exclaimed. Suddenly he was far too warm and he unfastened the first couple buttons on his shirt, feeling anxious.
“Don’t worry!” Gob said quickly. “I’ve done it tons of times. It’s fun.”
“Fun?!” Michael started, but Gob put his glass of water in his hand.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
From his older brother, these were not words that filled Michael with confidence.
“Here, drink some water. You need to drink lots of water.” Michael drank, and the water tasted so fresh and felt so cool and soothing flowing over his tongue and down his throat that he kept drinking, making small noises of pleasure. He had drained three-quarters of the glass before Gob pulled it away.
“Not too much! You’ll throw it up.” Gob thought for a moment. “Well, I’d better do this with you.” He was swallowing a pill with a sip from Michael’s glass before Michael could react.
“Hey hey, I thought you were supposed to be taking care of me!” Michael protested.
“I am! You don’t want to roll on your own, it’s no fun. I’ll get us both some water.” Gob disappeared into the kitchen. “Do you have any lollipops or, uh, binkys or anything?” he called.
“Uh…pacifiers, no, but I think we got some Tootsie Roll Pops for the kids.”
“Perfect.” The sound of several loud bangs came from the kitchen.
“They’re on the island, Gob, in the candy bowl,” Michael said, hoping all the cupboard doors were still on their hinges. “Hey, I want cherry!”
Gob returned to the room and tossed a sucker at Michael. He put two full glasses of water down on the coffeetable in front of them.
“What’s the lollipop for?” Michael asked, unwrapping his.
“So you don’t grind your teeth,” Gob replied.
“I’m not –”
Michael realized that he was, in fact, grinding his teeth. He stopped, then did it again. It felt great.
“Maybe I want to grind my teeth,” Michael said thoughtfully.
“It’ll give you a jawache in the morning. Try the lollipop,” Gob advised.
Michael did. It was nearly as good as grinding his teeth, and it tasted much better.
He sat back with a happy sigh. They were quiet for fifteen or twenty minutes, while Gob watched TV and Michael stared into the overhead lights, wondering why he had never noticed how stunningly beautiful they were. Also, the lollipop was delicious. The soft support of the couch seemed to cradle him. Michael was suddenly inspired to take off his socks and dig his toes into the carpet, and was well rewarded by the delightful sensation.
“You know,” Michael said suddenly. Gob looked at him – Michael had a big, goofy smile on his face. “I never would’ve done this on purpose, but since it happened, I’m kind of glad. And I can do it with you!” He reached out and ruffled Gob’s hair affectionately. “You’re a good brother.” The feeling of Gob’s hair was both pleasant and fascinating, so he kept running his fingers through it. Gob’s eyes fluttered closed and he moved his head with the caress of Michael’s fingertips.
“I think this shit’s started to kick in,” he said dreamily.
“Maybe you should drink some water,” Michael said.
“Mm,” Gob muttered noncommittally, then launched himself into Michael’s arms, half-lying in his lap and hugging him awkwardly, stretched across the couch. Gob’s hugs were always abrupt. “You’re a good brother too,” he declared, voice muffled. His face was pressed into Michael’s chest, halfway between his shoulder and his armpit.
“Thanks, Gob,” Michael said. The hug felt surprisingly good, and he let himself settle into it as he never had before, enjoying Gob’s warm weight. Gob turned his head and rested it on Michael’s shoulder, and Michael ran his fingers through Gob’s hair again, and over the back of his neck, still fascinated by the sensation. Gob gave a little sigh and pressed his lips to Michael’s neck.
The feeling was so good it sent a jolt through Michael’s body straight to his groin and he jumped. Taking Gob by the shoulders, he held him at arm’s length, suddenly terrified.
“Gob, what are we doing?” he asked, with a false calm.
“What are you talking about? We’re rolling. That’s what you do when you roll.”
“You kiss your brother’s necks?”
“Well, not Buster’s.” Gob shuddered, and Michael had to suppress a shudder of his own.
“Whether it’s Buster or me, I’m not sure it’s really…right.”
Gob looked confused. “Sure it is. Everyone takes Ecstasy to make out. It’s about feeling good. Look, I’ll show you.” He leaned forward and kissed Michael on the lips. Michael froze for a moment, but the drug’s influence was distracting him, focusing his attention on the soft warmth of the flesh against his, the wet heat of lips and tongue, and Gob was actually a really good kisser…Gob was…oh, shit, Gob!
Michael pushed him away, horrified at what was happening and still more horrified at the realization that his body appeared to be not at all horrified, but actually enjoying itself thoroughly.
“Gob, we’re…we’re brothers, this is – it’s really wrong. And I’m not even gay!”
Gob shrugged. “Me either, but it doesn’t count if you’re on Ecstasy.”
“That’s not really the main problem.”
Gob looked downcast. “You really shouldn’t take Ecstasy and not get to hook up with anyone,” he said sadly. “I know you’ll never do this again. I just…want to show you a good time.” He ran his hand up Michael’s chest. Even through his shirt the heat was intense and Michael’s back arched at the roughness of the fabric over his nipple, his mouth falling open. Gob let his hand continue upwards to rub the back of his neck and then run his fingers through Michael’s hair. Michael was beginning to see how Gob got so many women, something which had been a mystery to him for years.
He tried to suppress this thought and think rationally. “Gob…why do you have this stuff, anyway?”
Gob’s hand stopped moving and Michael had to bite his lip not to tell him to keep going. “Well, sometimes girls like to take it before we fuck. This girl I was seeing asked for some, but we broke up before we got a chance to take it.”
“Why do you carry it around with you?”
“It’s always good to be prepared, Michael.”
Michael half-smiled. “I bet you always have a condom in your wallet, too, huh?”
Gob frowned. “No, why would I have that?”
Steve Holt!
“Anyway…” Michael tried to remember what his point had been, and Gob took the opportunity to slip a couple fingers into the gap between two of the buttons on Michael’s shirt. He leaned in to kiss the skin at the nape of Michael’s neck, exposed by his open collar. Michael felt like his brain was short-circuiting, unable to think about anything but how good he felt and how wrong this was. Because it was wrong.
…Hot wrong.
When the phrase entered his head it was as if the logic processors in his mind clicked into place – either that, or they had shut down entirely. Because suddenly, Michael was realizing that after all, they were on drugs and couldn’t really be held accountable for their actions, and it’s not like this was hurting anyone after all and the incest taboo was a part of society and evolution because of the risk of inbreeding, and honestly it’s not like either of them was going to get pregnant, and now Gob was unbuttoning his shirt and Michael could hardly move, let alone protest.
Michael’s hands fell limply to his sides and he let his head fall backwards against the couch. Gob was unbuttoning his shirt, humid lips on his skin and Michael shivered. Gob ran his hands up Michael’s chest, bare now, and Michael responded automatically, arching into the touch. He felt like he was watching this from a very long way away.
Gob’s lips were by his earlobe now, and he dragged his teeth over it before speaking in a low voice. “You…you okay, Michael?”
“Oh, sure,” Michael said. His voice sounded far away, too. “Just – you know. Sitting here, letting my brother seduce me. It’s a normal night.”
Gob sounded unsure now. “If you don’t like it –”
“That’s the problem, Gob. I do like it.” Refusing to think about what he was doing, Michael suddenly found energy in his limbs. He rested a hand on the back of Gob’s neck and pulled his face close, kissing him roughly and with a certainty he didn’t feel. There was no backing out now.
Gob kissed him back eagerly, with that slightly desperate quality that pervaded almost everything he did, and which was both endearing and repulsive. Michael found himself quite naturally sliding his free hand up Gob’s shirt, and Gob moaned into his mouth. With his hand on his chest, Michael could feel Gob’s heart racing.
Gob pulled back and Michael watched as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt. He pulled it off and threw it carelessly to the floor, then bent down to kiss and nip and suck at Michael’s neck again. Michael’s eyes rolled back in his head and he lifted his hands to Gob’s arms, touching his skin and squeezing his shoulders, feeling like he was holding on for dear life. Gob straddled Michael’s leg and Michael bit back a groan at the feeling of his cock pressing into his thigh. It made his own, desperately hard cock throb. Gob pulled away again and Michael saw him making a face like he was thinking very hard.
It looked a little painful.
Quite suddenly Gob was on the floor between Michael’s knees. He ran his hands up the inside of Michael’s legs to fumble with his belt, and Michael was panicking again.
“I thought we were just making out!” he said, voice high and frightened.
“This is making out,” Gob said, undoing Michael’s belt with unnerving ease and working the button and zipper just as fast. He freed his cock through the slit in his boxers and Michael bit his lip hard, hips thrusting into Gob’s warm hand.
“Gob,” he said helplessly, lips parted. “I don’t – I don’t think that –” Gob licked a long, slow line up his shaft and circled a couple times around the head, and Michael was pressing his back into the couching, gasping, no longer able to form a coherent sentence.
Gob closed his mouth around the head and Michael’s head swam. He was grinding his teeth hard now, but that was really the least of his worries as his brother took him deep into his throat. He let his tongue slither along the underside again and Michael reached out blindly, hand finding the back of Gob’s neck and squeezing hard. Gob moved his head slowly up and down and Michael thought he would scream.
“Gob –” he finally managed to gasp out, “faster -” Always eager to please, Gob bobbed his head faster and with a defeated groan, Michael let his hips pump into Gob’s willing mouth. Gob held his hip with one hand and the other slid to his stomach, making the muscles there quiver and clench. Michael could feel his orgasm approaching with embarrassing swiftness and he tried to give his brother warning.
“Gob, you should – I’m gonna – I’m g- uhn,” and with a guttural noise somewhere between a moan and a cry, Michael spilled down Gob’s throat, shocked and rather amazed to see Gob swallowing eagerly.
When he had finished Michael lay limply back, feeling so good and so confused he was seriously considering never moving from the couch again. Gob rose slowly and shot him a little grin, then started undoing his own belt. Michael felt the fear rising again, this time without the distraction of insistent arousal to soften it.
“Gob, I don’t know if –” he began.
“It’s okay,” Gob said. “You don’t have to do anything.” He lay down on the couch, letting his face rest against the outside of Michael’s thigh, and started stoking himself, slowly and then with increasing rapidity. His eyes closed and his mouth hung open.
Michael felt guilty. Gob had…well, he wasn’t going to think too hard about what Gob had done to him, but it had been a big favor. And now he was completely failing to return it. Gob would probably have accepted a check as a thank you, but Michael thought a personal touch would mean more to him. He struggled not to think about of the fact that he had just considered giving his brother money for blowing him. Definitely time for a personal touch.
Brain screaming at him about what a bad idea this was, Michael reached slowly down and took a hold of his brother’s wrist. Gob’s eyes opened and the motion of his hand stopped.
“Michael?” he said, uncertainly.
“It’s okay, Gob,” he said, feeling anything but okay as he pulled gently on Gob’s wrist and replaced Gob’s hand with his own.
The Ecstasy was still affecting Michael, and for a moment he forgot what he was doing and got lost in the sensation of touching –
disturbing thought blocked
The velvet softness of the skin, the hard length, the heat…He ran a finger over the head and Gob made a little noise of pleasure, recalling him to the task at hand.
So to speak.
Michael swallowed and started stroking slowly. Gob’s hips bucked and he whined, reaching a hand up to clutch at Michael’s thigh, rubbing his face against his jeans. Michael sped up the rhythm and Gob pumped into his hand, moaning. His thrusts quickly got more erratic and with a grunt he came into Michael’s hand.
Michael wiped his fingers on the couch and let his head fall back again, sighing. He did his best to lose himself in the good feelings the Ecstasy was providing him, but it was more difficult now. He wished he still smoked. A cigarette would have been very helpful at that moment.
Gob shifted to put his head in Michael’s lap. “Are you mad?” he asked, and Michael looked down at him quickly.
“What? No, I’m not mad at you, Gob.” He let his fingers do what they wanted, which seemed to be to stroke Gob’s hair and neck. “You’re a good brother.”
“Thanks.” Gob sounded relieved. “You’re a good brother, too. Way better than Buster.”
“Much, much better than Buster,” Michael agreed.