"Do you want to talk about it?"
Yuuri flung himself back on his bed with a thud and rolled his eyes. "Shori!"
"Call me big brother," the older boy corrected as he closed the door to Yuuri's room—at least the one he used while he was home—and sat next to him without being invited. "You are the king of a strange place and you don't have anything you want to tell your brother about that? There isn't a single thing the person who has taken care of you for the last fifteen years can help you with or advise you on?"
The young king did what any dignitary in this situation would do. He grabbed a pillow and threw it over his face before emitting a muffled, "Go away."
There wasn't much Shori could say to an argument like that. So, he tickled him instead.
In moments the pillow was gone and Yuuri's hands were scrambling over his big brother's arms. When did he get so strong?
"You are engaged to some prince and you don't have anything you need to discuss with me?" Shori shifted to keep Yuuri from kicking him. His weight held down Yuuri's legs as he leaned down to keep his little brother low to the bed. Slender fingers worked their way under the baseball jersey to get directly at the sensitive skin. His younger brother was really growing up, but he still hadn't sprouted any chest hair. He felt warm and smooth beneath his swiftly-moving fingertips.
Yuuri was gasping and laughing and writhing beneath the other man. "He-he isn't my fiancé! It was an—AGH!" His hips jerk upward, accidentally rubbing against his brother. "An acci...dent."
Shori looked down at the wide, black eyes, flushed cheeks, and mussed hair of his baby brother. It was so good to have him at home where he could keep him safe and protected from the big, bad world that placed too many demands on the young man. Didn't anyone care about that? Didn't anyone else care about his Yuuri? How could he be asked to do so much, so far away, without his brother to watch out for him?
"...Shori?" Yuuri breathed out in an unusually soft voice. He sounded so fragile. If only there was some way to show him how much he was loved.
Shori drew a hand up to run through that thick, black hair he had ruffled so many times before. He never realized how soft it actually was. And then slowly—so slowly—he brushed his lips to that small mouth shaped so much like his own. Maybe he drew it out because he was afraid and maybe to give himself or Yuuri, or their mother walking in with the laundry, or that dog they should have gotten as children but didn't, or ANYTHING, or ANYONE to stop him from what he was about to do, but nothing and no one did.
He was kissing Yuuri. He was kissing his little brother. And the strangest part was Yuuri was kissing him back. And the bed wasn't collapsing. And the walls weren't caving in. And the earth wasn't opening up to swallow him whole. It was just a kiss—a nice kiss, a loving kiss, a long, lingering kiss.
When Shori finally pulled away it was Yuuri who followed after him, drawing him back for another taste. His smaller hands curled into the fabric of his brother's shirt to keep him close even though only moments ago he had been pushing him away.
Somehow, he would find a way to keep his brother safe no matter where he went. He had found a way to be with him even if he couldn't physically be there. "I love you, Yuuri."