The Anderson house is close to empty. It's always this way; Thomas and Elaine were always on some sort of lavish vacation or a business trip, something to improve his campaign – he was going for senator now, and he needed to kiss as much ass as possible. Cooper was always left in charge of watching Blaine while their parents were gone, which he didn't mind. Blaine kept to himself for the most part, and there were perks to being in an empty house. For one, Blaine had no problem strolling around in his boxers and nothing else, or with a towel around his hips. God, Cooper loved watching him right after a shower, clinging to the deep navy and grey striped towel around his hips, dancing like no one was watching as beads of water rolled down from his sopping wet curls, sliding over each dip and bend in his back until they disappeared into the absorbent fabric. Blaine was careless when they had the house to themselves. Too careless, maybe.
Blaine peered around the room, careful to make sure no one was watching him, though he was fairly certain no one would. He'd had an impossibly persistent aching in his groin for hours, and he needed to relieve it before he exploded. He'd been thinking all day about his dreams the previous night, how he'd imagined his big brother – strong, manly, with the enticingly musky smell of a hard day's work clinging to him – bending him over the bathroom vanity and taking care of him in ways he'd never imagined. Settling on his bed, propped up against too many pillows and the cherry wood headboard, Blaine's hips rise as he pushes down his gym shorts, completely bare once the fabric was gone.
From his spot just outside the cracked door, Cooper has to bite his lip as he stares at the thick, hard cock lying flat and needy against Blaine's deceptively toned and tight tummy, twitching against the heat of his tanned skin. He knows he can't make any noises or his baby brother would hear him, but that isn't a problem because he can scarcely breathe when he sees Blaine like this, loose curls falling into his eyes as he runs his fingers tentatively down his length, teasing himself, drawing it out, like he's imagining it's someone else. He always does this; every time it gets more arousing.
How many times had Cooper watched him as he's done this? The older boy had lost count.
Blaine leans, exposing his bare ass unknowingly to his brother as he crawls over to his nightstand, knees spread just enough that through his limited viewing space, Cooper can see his tight, puckered hole – still completely untouched even after seventeen years. That thought sends another jolt of static electricity to the blue-eyed man's cock, hard beneath his too-tight jeans. So many nights he's gotten off to the idea of claiming Blaine completely, fucking him until he couldn't breathe, couldn't move, talk, or think. So hard he'd forget his own name.
Cooper doesn't even realize he's slipped his hand into his pants until he looks back up, noting that Blaine is pumping thick, creamy lotion onto his hand, and even from here Cooper can smell the faint scent of the mango and strawberry. Slowly Blaine wraps a hand around himself, mouth opening in a tiny 'o' shape as his head rolls back against the headboard, breaths growing labored as he stroked, slowly at first, twisting his wrist at the head and sliding his hand from his cock completely, letting it slap wet and hard against his stomach. It takes all Cooper has not to moan at the sound of skin on skin, letting his mind wander to the quiet smack of his balls against baby brother's beautiful ass as he bottoms out over and over.
"C-Cooper."
The sound once again yanks the older boy from his fantasies and his heart leaps into his throat, thinking he's been spotted. He fumbles to shove his cock back in his pants and is about to make a run for it when he looks up and realizes that Blaine's free arm has been tossed over his tightly clamped eyes. Blaine hadn't noticed him. He was moaning for him, imagining all the same things that Cooper was envisioning, maybe more. Cooper's hand dives into his pants again, pushing them down enough to expose himself completely as he grasps himself, try and firm, stroking quickly and jutting forward into his own fist. He leaned one arm against the door frame, his head resting against it, the first beads of sweat dripping down his brow and over his eyes and nose, cheeks clammy as he watched Blaine through fluttering eyes.
"O-oh, mm… Big Brother…" Blaine whimpered, and ohmygod he was reaching around himself, pressing a slick finger inside himself and pressing down against it, pushing it in and pumping it out and Cooper knows he's not going to last too much longer. He can still see the boy jerking himself off, every muscle tensing and releasing, his toes curling and flexing as he rises off the mattress, sliding down until he's flat on his back, working himself in ways that Cooper's never witnessed before.
It's when the younger boy reaches his climax with a cry, biting down on his hand and shooting his load up onto his stomach, chest, and even his chin that Cooper loses it, letting out his own shout and cumming, beads of white dripping over his hand and down onto the hardwood floor.
"Cooper?" Blaine's voice sounds breathless, wrecked and frantic as Cooper quickly tries to pull up his pants to make a get away, but the door is thrown open and Blaine grabs his arm before he can run. With a tug, the taller brother finds himself being pulled into the deceptively strong teen's chest, his leg against his still bare cock.
"You were watching me."
"I-I wasn't, I just-" Cooper doesn't get to finish though, getting lost in the look of exhaustion, confusion, and satisfaction in his baby brother's eyes. "I made you cum." The boy says simply, and Cooper's brow furrows.
"Y-yeah."
"How many times have you watched me?"
"This is the first time," Cooper lies, and he can tell Blaine sees through it as his eyebrow rises incredulously.
"Dozens."
Blaine doesn't say anything else, he just kisses his brother and pulls him into the room – they'll clean up the spilled drops of tongue later, for now there's more pressing matters to worry about - namely the fact that Blaine is hard again despite his oversensitivity.
