Author's Note: The majority of this was written at the end of May/start of June, when thoughts of Taito were still swirling in my mind, but the actual thought of rewriting chapter five of XY was still hurting my brain (and I wanted that done before chapter two of XY: Beginnings). I then promptly got sidetracked from writing by a phenom who had caught my undivided attention (see: Adam Lambert). I am now trying to get back on track with XY, but seeing as though this was already mostly written, I thought I might as well finish it off first and throw you guys a bone before the inevitable longer wait for XY . . .
This was basically an excuse to write smut – but then, so was XY, lol.
. . . And I still can't let go of Yamato and Taichi as brothers, so, um . . . they're still half brothers in this story. INCEST YAY. :p
Warning: Taito, homophobic comments courtesy of Taichi, and rated M (moreso for future chapters – if they happen – but also for the last bit of the chapter).
Rough Trade
chapter one
Taichi tapped the steering wheel of his car impatiently with his fingers. School had let out almost half an hour ago, and he was still in the damn parking lot of Odaiba High, waiting for a certain brother to stop talking to his freaking friends and get in the car already so that they could leave. He'd already told Yamato on numerous occasions that he expected him to be at the car no later than five minutes after the final bell. But did the blond ever listen to him? No, of course not.
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. Really, he could just drive off without Yamato – but then the idiot would no doubt tell their father that he'd left him at school, and then of course he'd get a lecture about not looking after him . . .
Sometimes being the eldest sucked . . . though, it did have some perks.
Being one of the eldest students in the school, he was also one of the few who could actually drive. And because his father was sort of awesome, he even had his own car – one that he'd picked out himself for his eighteenth birthday. His father had paid for it in full, on the condition that he'd get half of the money back down the track. That's where the 'sort of awesome' came from, because he then had to get a job. Now Taichi worked part-time at HMV, the music store – a little ironic, seeing as he didn't really care for music; that was Yamato's domain. Speaking of the blond . . .
"Yamato!" Taichi yelled across the parking lot, his patience running thin. "Hurry the fuck up!" At that, Yamato turned his head to look at Taichi briefly, but then simply turned his attention back to his friends. Taichi hit his steering wheel in frustration. He hated it when Yamato ignored his authority – he hated it more when Yamato ignored it in front of other people; it made him feel a little self-conscious or something. Well, two could play at that game.
Taichi pulled his seatbelt off and opened the door of his car. He was going to physically drag Yamato away from his stupid friends – a guy from that moronic band of his, a guy from his swimming club, and two girls who obviously lusted for him – and see how Yamato liked being embarrassed. He took one step out of his car – and noticed Yamato was on his way towards him, as if he realised what he was about to do. Taichi smirked and got back in.
Yamato approached the car and removed his bass guitar – within its case – from his back, carefully placing it in the backseat. Without a word, he opened the door to the passenger's side and got in. He didn't like speaking to Taichi when not necessary – the brunet almost always insulted him, with or without reason.
"Finally," Taichi muttered, turning the key in the ignition, before looking over at Yamato. His lips formed the slightest of smiles. "It takes you that long to arrange a gay orgy with your friends?"
Yamato rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and staring straight ahead so as not to look at Taichi. Ever since they were little Taichi would insult him with gay taunts. It bothered him more than he let on. He hated to think how Taichi, an obvious rampant homophobe, would react if he found out that he was actually gay – or something much worse, like where his same-sex attractions actually lay . . .
"No, seriously," Taichi went on with an obnoxious smirk, "what were you planning with your boyfriends?"
Yamato ignored his dumb question, suppressing the urge to inform Taichi that there were two girls with him as well – but that would prolong the discussion and make Taichi think he was actually being taken seriously. "Put the hood up," he commanded instead in a neutral tone. Though not obsessed with his hair, he still didn't want the wind to mess it up; it was only practical.
This time Taichi ignored him, tapping his thigh idly as he waited for the car's engine to warm up, all the while still looking at Yamato. He'd never let Yamato know – or anyone, for that matter – but he was actually . . . well, insanely attracted to him. He guessed he'd realised it when he was young – in a subconscious way – because he had always attacked Yamato with claims of how he was gay. It was a childish defense mechanism really, but . . . well, Yamato ignored him all the time, and he didn't know how else to talk to him otherwise.
Taichi looked in the rearview mirror, catching sight of Yamato's bass. The blond had the same deal with their father as Taichi had regarding the car, and had paid for half of it himself by doing a few print modeling ads – Taichi, of course, had given him crap about how fucking gay that was, but honestly, he'd always thought Yamato would make an awesome model. At least, Taichi certainly never minded staring at him – and neither did the girls at school.
Taichi was well-known and well-liked in their year because he was sociable, and thus got along well with almost everyone. Yamato on the other hand, though friendly, was still more quiet and reserved to most people outside of his circle of friends. Yet still, his looks alone made him popular and noteworthy to everyone else. Taichi wasn't bad-looking – in fact, he was pretty good-looking himself – just not in the same league as Yamato. You'd definitely look twice at him, but you'd be looking back at Yamato continuously.
At least, Taichi definitely did.
Home from school and Yamato was half-way through his reps when Taichi sauntered by and decided to stop. Yamato rolled his eyes and continued with his reps.
"Making sure you look good for your boyfriend tonight?" Taichi predictably insulted him with a smirk. Yamato, as usual, tried to ignore him. That didn't deter Taichi, however. "You know there's a theory that gay guys work out to make up for their lack of masculinity," he mused. "Well, that's you, right there." He laughed.
"The same could be applied to you," Yamato retorted, before realising how ridiculous Taichi would think he was for saying that.
And he was right – Taichi just laughed harder. "I'll be gay the day you're straight," the brunet proclaimed easily, amused.
Yamato set his weights down, giving Taichi a death glare. "Just fuck off would you? I don't need your crap today."
"Ooh, bad attitude," Taichi replied with a smile, completely unaffected by Yamato's biting request.
Yamato gave a frustrated sigh. "Taichi, if you leave me alone I can actually get done quicker, and then you can use it. That's what you're here for, right?"
Taichi shrugged, absentmindedly stepping closer to the equipment. That's when the actual weights Yamato had been lifting caught his eye – they weighed 80 kilos, which was more than he'd last seen Yamato using. "Hey," he began in surprise, eyebrows raised, "I didn't know you could bench your own weight."
Yamato gave him a curious, almost suspicious look – was he about to line him up for another insult? "Yeah . . ." he began hesitantly, "for a month now."
"Awesome," Taichi said, genuinely impressed – that was a milestone. He himself could bench 90 kilos, which was a definite feat seeing as it was over his own body weight – which was around 75 kilos – and was currently working his way up to 100 kilos. He wanted to reach that goal by graduation. "Congrats, man," he praised Yamato.
Yamato tried to figure out if Taichi was just playing with him, but his voice had sounded sincere. "Thanks . . ." he replied slowly. It was rare for Taichi to compliment him about anything – and they both knew it, as an awkward silence loomed before them.
"Well," Taichi grinned at last, "I'll leave you to it then. Your boyfriend should appreciate your efforts."
And there was the insult.
Yamato rolled his eyes as Taichi walked off.
Taichi sat half-naked on the edge of his bed, his legs opened and his trash can before him on the floor. "Come on," he hissed through clenched teeth, stroking his enlarged member at a faster pace. It was almost time for dinner, his hand was sore, and – godammnit – he wanted to finish. He'd conjured up visions of naked male celebrities he'd love to screw, random guys from school that he found attractive, and even Jou, his secret ex-boyfriend – and still, he hadn't been able to produce a single drop. He groaned in frustration, muttering curses to himself as he closed his eyes and finally relented, allowing himself to envision the one person who always got the job done.
Yamato.
Release hit his body in jerky waves, and he wanted to keep his eyes closed – wanted to keep that vision of Yamato there – but reluctantly opened them to make sure that his dick spurted his jizz directly into his trash can, seeing as lately the power and volume of his cum seemed rather wild, and he really didn't want to paint his room in the stuff. Really, he blamed Yamato. He was experiencing such an awesome orgasm, and he wondered how much better it could – would – be if Yamato had actually sucked him off –
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, and he gripped his dick in hand, looking at his locked door like he'd just been caught red-handed. Don't let it be Yamato . . .
"Taichi?" came Yamato's voice on the other side.
Taichi bit his lip. "What?" he threw back gruffly, hoping that would disguise his heavy breathing and Yamato wouldn't suspect what he'd been doing. Being caught masturbating by his little brother wasn't exactly high on his list of priorities.
"Dinner's ready," was Yamato's flat reply. A pause. And then, with a scoff, "Stop playing with yourself and hurry up."
Taichi flipped Yamato off through the door – rather unnecessarily, as the other couldn't see – as he listened to his footsteps disappearing down the hall.
At least the cunt doesn't know that I'd just jerked off to him.
"Nice of you to join us, Taichi," Hiroaki commented as his eldest son finally emerged from his bedroom. No one was allowed to eat until all present in the household were seated.
"I was just finishing up on some homework," Taichi lied, taking a seat at the square kitchen table, adjacent to both Yamato and their father, who were seated across from one another.
Yamato snorted, knowing full well that Taichi had been masturbating. "Loser," he muttered under his breath, before sticking a fork in his mouth with the noodles he'd made for dinner.
Taichi heard him, however. "Shut up, cocksucker," he retorted back, never one to back down from verbal sparring. He was usually the one to start the arguments, though – and he almost always insulted Yamato by calling him gay, because the blond seemed to anger more easily at the insult than any other.
"Whatever," Yamato rolled his eyes. "Dad?" he turned his attention to their father instead. "So about curfew . . .?" He'd been trying to negotiate his curfew with their father before Taichi had joined them.
Hiroaki sighed. "I still expect you to be home by eleven on weeknights, and two on weekends, Yamato."
"But Taichi's curfew is twelve and four!" Yamato argued. "It's not fair. We're in the same year."
"Taichi's eighteen, and he can drive," Hiroaki reasoned – though he'd repeated the exact same thing to Yamato many times in the past, but his middle son just never seemed to relent on the subject.
"I'm a year older than you, fool," Taichi inputted, digging into his noodles. To be exact, he was actually a month shy of being a year older than Yamato – unfortunately, he was born two weeks too late to make the cut-off date to be in the year higher than Yamato at school. He'd always thought their rivalry stemmed from the fact that they were in the same year. "Besides," he added, mouth almost full, "as I am eighteen, I shouldn't even have a curfew . . ." He looked at their father accusingly.
"You may be eighteen, but you're still in school," Hiroaki informed. "When you finish school, you can do whatever you like."
"It's not like he ever goes anywhere," Yamato retorted spitefully. "The later curfews are a waste on him. He has no life. He just sits in his room mastur–"
"Hey, dicklicker," Taichi cut in before Yamato could finish. "Shut your trap. So I don't go around town all night getting junk shoved up my arse like you do, so what? I have a fucking life that at least involves girls." Well, the first part was true – he preferred being the junk shover – but the last part was absolutely not.
Yamato sat back in his chair and gave Taichi a death glare. He was really getting sick of Taichi's gay jabs at him, but he knew the more he reacted to the insults, the more satisfied the brunet got.
Hiroaki shook his head, used to his sons squabbling. "One day you boys are going to have to learn to get along."
"Yeah, that'll happen when Yamato stops sucking cock," Taichi drawled, grinning as Yamato's face tinged red from anger.
Hiroaki sighed, pressing his forefingers to his temples. "Taichi, don't talk about homosexual behaviour in this household. It's disturbing to hear."
"Sorry Dad," Taichi quipped easily with a lazy smile. "But when there's a fag in the family –"
"Shut the fuck up," Yamato yelled, finally losing his restraint. His hands were clenched into tight fists atop the dinner table, and his eyes were narrowed into slits.
Hiroaki knew it was time to step in sternly. "Taichi," he admonished with disapproving eyes, "stop calling your brother a homosexual. I didn't raise any of my sons to be that way."
Taichi finally relented, but with a small satisfied smirk on his face. He found Yamato rather attractive when angry, he conceded to himself.
Shortly after dinner, Taichi made his way into Yamato's bedroom to find the blond in just his underwear, looking through his closet for clothes to wear. Yamato glanced back at him as he entered, but then simply continued his search for clothes wearily. His only weapon against Taichi was to ignore him.
Taichi leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest. Yamato's back was turned to him, so he had no problem checking out his arse as the blond pulled on a pair of designer jeans. "So what guy are you fucking tonight?" Taichi opened up with snidely, eyes now tracing Yamato's toned arms. Getting no rise out of the blond, however, prompted him to get to the point – at least, the point he wanted Yamato to think he was there for, since 'I'm just here to check you out' wouldn't go down so well. "Did you steal my condoms?" he asked, making his tone sound unimpressed. "I'm down to, like, three."
Yamato pulled on a tight black T-shirt before turning around to face Taichi. "It's not like you use them," he replied in a bored tone, grabbing his wallet and keys from his bedside table. "And you don't need a condom to fuck your hand, you know." Having everything he needed, he made his way towards the door.
Taichi snorted, but he wasn't amused. "Keep the condoms." He smirked. "I mean, I wouldn't want you getting AIDS or anything. Just don't ride your boyfriend for too long, though – curfew, remember?"
Yamato stopped just in front of Taichi. It irritated him, but he could never throw anything gay back at Taichi and actually get away with it. First because he didn't feel comfortable using it as an insult, and second because Taichi was so goddamn masculine that the brunet would probably just laugh at him – which he had earlier that afternoon. So instead, he just said, "As if you give a fuck." It didn't come out as personal, but it actually was. He wished Taichi cared about him – but, being a guy and all, you don't say that to your brother. Especially when you had the crappy relationship he had with Taichi.
"Hey," Taichi began in a fake sincere voice, "of course I give a fuck, Yamato. I'm your big brother, it's my job to give a fuck."
Yamato didn't like Taichi condescending him. "Really?" he feigned a look of confusion. "I always thought you were my little brother –" At which point Yamato promptly found himself shoved up against the doorframe Taichi had previously been leaning on. He wasn't surprised, though – that was a sensitive spot with Taichi, what with the fact that the brunet was actually a few inches shorter than him, despite being older. To be honest, it was such a minor height difference that Yamato didn't even understand why Taichi got so bent out of shape about it. But if it made Taichi pissed off and insecure when brought up, then so be it.
"How 'bout I kick your arse?" Taichi threatened gruffly. He had both hands gripped onto the front of Yamato's T-shirt, and though he didn't really intend to carry out his threat, he would if Yamato pushed him to it.
"You can try," Yamato retorted back simply, acting tough. In actuality, he didn't like that Taichi was always so hands-on and in-your-face – the aggressive behaviour didn't sit well with him, but if Taichi knew that, he'd think he was a wimp.
Taichi snickered. Though they were definitely close in strength, he edged Yamato out by a small margin, perhaps simply from being a year older, or more likely, the fact that he tried to go to the gym at least three times a week, versus Yamato's two times a week.
Silence reigned.
Yamato glanced down at Taichi's hands still latched onto him – and took a perve at his arms without seeming obvious. Taichi's arms were slightly thicker, slightly more defined than his own, and though he thought Taichi was an idiot for letting weight-training interfere with school – his school marks could've been higher than they actually were if he'd spent more time studying – at least the idiot looked good. Yamato flicked his eyes back to Taichi's. "Let go of me," he stated cooly.
Taichi banged Yamato against the wall once more before letting him go. "You're lucky I'm not in the mood to smash in your pretty boy face."
"Whatever," Yamato retorted, pushing past Taichi.
Taichi would occasionally take a drive out with the implication that he was going to hit up a girl at a club – or something heterosexual, anyway. But, really, it was just to make sure his father didn't suspect him of being a hermit homosexual. It was true what Yamato had said about him not going out a lot; he just didn't have time, what with school, work, and going to the gym and all. And then when he did have time, he'd be driving around Odaiba aimlessly with no real destination, faking that he was up to something indecent with a girl. Which was what he was currently doing.
He wondered what Yamato was up to – probably fucking some girl. He did go through a lot of his condoms . . .
Fuck, thinking about Yamato with girls was depressing.
Taichi turned a corner into another street and slowed down, looked fondly at the park he'd enjoyed playing many a soccer games with his friends when they were small. At this time of the evening, though, the park was totally deserted – at least, the actual playground was. In its car park, there was one lone car, and – Taichi squinted – there were definitely people in there. As he got closer to passing it, he realised the car looked awfully familiar – he had to have seen it a lot. It was probably someone he knew, then – a friend, perhaps.
He swerved into the car park to see. If they were his friends, maybe he could hang out with them or something until he had to head home at curfew. He drove closer and pulled up beside the car –
Holy . . . fuck.
He stared into the stunned eyes of none other than Yamato. But what was more surprising was that he was with their mathematics teacher, Mr Fujiyama. And even more surprising in the realm of bat shit crazy was what they were doing – which was fucking, to put it mildly.
Forcing himself to get over the shock, and still feeling numb, Taichi quickly scanned the inside of the car (no wonder it had been familiar – he'd seen it all the time in the school parking lot). Fujiyama was seated supposedly normally on the backseat, but of course was completely naked. Yamato was sat on his lap – his dick – with his legs over the top, and the front seat was rolled forward so that Yamato could rest his back and head against it.
Taichi gaped at them in astonishment for several more seconds.
But then suddenly another emotion hit him – anger.
Taichi quickly wound his automatic window down with a push of a button. "You," he started venomously, eyes locked with Yamato's, "in the car. Now."
He wasn't even sure if Yamato could hear him clearly from the closed interior of the other car, but he knew he knew what he wanted as the blond began to move and shuffle around to find and put his clothes back on. Taichi turned away sharply so he wouldn't have to look at the utter fugliness of Fujiyama doing the exact same thing.
What the fuck, anyway?
Yamato, and . . . Fujiyama!?
His hands clenched around the steering wheel tightly as he resisted the urge to pummel the teacher.
Shocked, nervous, anxious . . . scared – Yamato was feeling all of these emotions. They were almost home, and Taichi hadn't spoken a word. Not one. And that scared the fuck out of him.
Taichi was only quiet when he was really angry.
Yamato looked discreetly at Taichi's profile to gauge what the brunet was thinking. His eyes and focus seemed entirely fixed on the road ahead in a stony gaze. Thoughts ran through Yamato's head: What was Taichi more angry at, the fact that he was gay, or the fact that he was sleeping with a teacher? And was Taichi capable of – of beating him to death, just for being gay? The thought would've seemed absurd in any other setting, but right now, in this moment . . . he really didn't know to what extent Taichi's hatred for homosexuals was. What if instead of taking him home, Taichi was going to take him to some vacant alleyway and off him?
He had to say something. Explain things – calm Taichi down. He opened his mouth – only to realise his throat was dry. Shit. He was that nervous? He swallowed a few times for moisture, before trying again. "Taichi . . ." he began. His voice was small, hesitant. Taichi didn't seem to take much notice at all. "Taichi," he began again, a little louder, a little more forceful. Still no reaction, but he went on anyway, "I think we should talk . . ."
Taichi kept driving, his vision still fixed firmly on the road ahead. After a few minutes, without even so much as a glance at Yamato, he let out a flat, "So you're a faggot." It wasn't even a question.
Yamato couldn't judge Taichi's colourless voice too much – his tone was too straight-forward with no hint of emotion. He might have a chance to make things 'right' here, but he needed to play this carefully – Taichi had the upper hand, so he was on volatile ground. "Look," he began quietly, persuasively, "it was just a one-time thing –"
"Bullshit!" Taichi cut in roughly – unexpectedly, as he'd only said four words prior. But he wasn't having any of that 'one-time' shit. He gave a short, bemused laugh. "What? You tripped, fell, landed on his dick?"
Well if Taichi's reaction didn't quite tell Yamato how ridiculous he thought his proclamation was, the fact that he was quoting an Eminem lyric did it. He could feel himself getting a bit angry himself. "You know –"
"I know what?" Taichi cut him off once again. "That you're a poof? That you like cock up the arse? That Dad's going to fucking disown you when I tell him?"
Taichi drove into the entrance of their apartment building's parking lot at that moment, and Yamato subconsciously felt a small sense of relief – Taichi wasn't planning to beat him to death any time soon. However, the last part of Taichi had said gave him something else entirely to worry about, washing away the anger he felt towards the brunet momentarily.
"You can't tell Dad," Yamato told him, trying to keep his voice from sounding like he was begging. He hadn't actually thought about the possibility of Taichi telling anyone, because he'd been too concerned the entire ride with what Taichi was thinking and feeling towards him now that he saw him have sex with a guy. He'd often thought and worried throughout the years about how much Taichi would hate him if he were to ever come out – and now it suddenly seemed like he was getting his answer.
Taichi snorted. "Are you making a fucking demand?" He found an open parking spot, and began to ease the car into place.
Yamato shook his head. "No, not a demand – a request." He needed to be on Taichi's good side for once in his life. "You can't tell Dad," he repeated, this time not managing to keep himself from sounding like he was begging. "Please."
Taichi shut off the car's engine, and looked over at Yamato. "Request denied," he said simply, but still with a rough edge to his voice.
Yamato's stance changed at that. Taichi was being difficult, and he wanted to punch him. He really did. Instead he clenched his fists. "Taichi, I am asking you –"
"Yeah, I get that," Taichi told him sarcastically, as if he'd been patronising him. "But, see," he went on, "you're gay. That means you have no rights."
Yamato felt his anger rise. Taichi had just degraded him with words – yet again – but punching him would be a really bad idea. "OK. Whatever." He kept his voice neutral. "I'm gay and I have no rights. But you cannot tell Dad."
"I can tell whoever the fuck I want. That includes Dad – and, hey, I'm sure the guys at school would get a kick out of the fact that you're gay." Taichi gave a snort. "I mean, they all think you're going to steal their girlfriends, when in fact it's them you're after. Fuck the boobs, right? You're all for dick."
If Yamato clenched his fists any harder, he thought for sure he'd start drawing blood. He narrowed his eyes at Taichi. "You don't know me. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm less of a person than you are. My worth as a human being has just as much value, so stop insulting me because of my sexuality."
"Nice speech," Taichi told him condescendingly. "I'll let Dad know you said that when I tell him he has a daughter for a son."
That did it. Yamato's hands were clenched onto the front of Taichi's shirt – but Taichi had quick reflexes, and his own hands paralleled Yamato's on his shirt. The two stared each other down for a few tense minutes, before Taichi finally released his grip on Yamato with a small shrug. "Hit me," he taunted the younger, "go on. Give me an excuse to beat your faggot arse into a coma. You're disgusting." He was lying through his teeth, but the blond didn't know that.
Yamato slowly let go of Taichi's shirt as his words impacted him. Did Taichi not know how much he hurt him? Well, of course he fucking knew. He just didn't give a flying fuck. And that fucking hurt him so fucking much – and, fuck, it made him feel so weak. He never wanted Taichi to see how weak he was.
They looked at each other in silence, and Taichi could tell he'd really hit a nerve with Yamato – and he knew how sensitive the blond could be. He felt bad, but . . . this was too perfect an opportunity. Cocking his head to the side as though pondering something over, he began slowly, "If you do what I tell you to . . . I might consider keeping my mouth shut."
Yamato lifted a tired eyebrow, knowing instantly that there was a catch. Taichi didn't do him favours for free. But, if this kept his sexuality under wraps from their father and the kids at school, he'd suffer being Taichi's slave or whatever the fuck he wanted for as long as he had to – until Taichi graduated and hopefully moved far the fuck away to some distant country. He nodded his head reluctantly. "OK," he agreed, his voice subdued. He was still mentally recoiling from Taichi's tongue lashing. "Fine, whatever," he added, defeated. He unbuckled his seatbelt so he could get out of the car – that is, until Taichi's voice stopped him.
"Stay put," Taichi commanded. "I want you to do something."
Yamato gave an exasperated sigh and a roll of his eyes. Just when he thought he was free to go. "What?"
"You like sucking dick, right?" Taichi was rather point blank with his rhetorical question.
Yamato's lips drew together firmly. After their agreement he thought Taichi's digs would at least stop for the night. "And?"
Taichi was blunt and straight to the point. "Suck mine."
Yamato's immediate reaction was – well, dumbfounded. He stared at Taichi for a few seconds, trying to gauge if he was joking, before his face morphed into animated disbelief. "I'm not sucking your cock," he scoffed incredulously, shaking his head.
Taichi shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "OK." He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his car door. "Then I guess I'll go have a word with Dad –"
"No!" Yamato cut in quickly with force and a hint of panic, grabbing Taichi's elbow to stop him from getting out of the car. Disbelief was still frozen on his face. "Taichi, I'm your . . . I mean . . . we're brothers." How the fuck did Taichi just ask him for a blowjob?
"You're not my brother," Taichi replied derisively. "You're just a faggot." He sniggered, adding, "Who should be sucking my dick if he doesn't want the entire world to know that that's his favourite hobby –" he paused, "– no, wait – second favourite hobby. A dick up the arse is first, right?"
"You're such a homophobic cunt," Yamato ascertained incredulously, still numb from what Taichi had asked him to do.
"I don't think it's in your best interest to call me a cunt right about now, do you?" Taichi retorted. "Now either start sucking, or let go of my fucking elbow so I can tell Dad secrets about you," he patronised.
Yamato remained frozen. Taichi was obviously disrespecting him for being gay – but to tell him to do that? How lowly did he think of him? He really shouldn't comply . . . but the thought of their father – and ultimately the world – knowing that he was gay? He couldn't handle that, not right now. Not when he was in high school. He wouldn't be able to face people. And besides . . . it was just a blowjob, if he thought about it in simple terms. He just had to ignore the nagging sick guilt he was feeling over the fact that he'd actually wanted to give Taichi a blowjob for years now. "Close the door," he uttered quietly.
Taichi may have looked bored as he did as Yamato asked, but on the inside, he was ecstatic.
Yamato tore his eyes away from Taichi as he reached into his jeans pocket for a condom – making it more real. He really couldn't believe he was going to do this – he'd thought about it in his fucking dreams but never did he think he'd actually get to do it or choose to do it in real fucking life when the chance arose. Not that this was a 'dream come true' scenario, because Taichi was forcing him to do it against his will, and that was definitely not part of the dream.
"I don't need a fucking condom," Taichi invaded his thoughts with a dry laugh. "You think I have diseases? It's just a fucking blowjob – suck me bare, retard."
Yamato eyes were ever so slightly narrowed. "It's not just that. It's for when you ejaculate."
"Why the fuck do you think I'm telling you to suck me off?" Taichi retorted. "Girls never swallow. But you're fucking going to."
Yamato gave Taichi an evil eye before shoving the condom back into his pocket. He thought swallowing Taichi's cum would be an act too weird, too involved for the brunet – then again, the arsehole did ask him to suck his cock in the first place. Not exactly what older brothers make their younger brothers do. "Well then," he began, "take your dick out . . ."
"You take it out," Taichi countered swiftly, lifting his arms up to fold behind his head. "I'm not doing anything because I'm not a faggot nor do I want to feel like a faggot."
Then why make me suck your dick in the first place?
Yamato gritted his teeth, making sure to avoid eye contact with Taichi as he reached a hand over and began to slowly unzip the brunet's pants. Once done, his fingers paused at the waistband of Taichi's underwear momentarily as conflicting thoughts filled his mind. He didn't want to do this because it was wrong, Taichi was forcing him and it wasn't what he wanted – and yet he'd wanted to do this for a long time, to be able to reach over and feel Taichi's cock in his hand, his mouth . . . his arse.
Shit.
"Hurry up," Taichi told him, annoyed. "It's almost your curfew, you know. Dad'll be up waiting for you, and maybe he'll come out here to check if you take your goddamn time . . ."
Yamato clenched his teeth, aggravated, but nonetheless made his hand disappear into Taichi's underwear, wrapping around his cock and pulling it out of its material confines. His heart sped up in pace. Now, it wasn't as if Yamato had never seen Taichi's cock before – they weren't exactly shy, and had seen each other plenty of times getting in and out of the bathroom – but he'd never been so close to it at that level of being under-the-waist and actually touching it. Taichi's penis was slightly thicker, longer, and just looked more filled out than his own penis – essentially a fully grown version of how his would be in a year or so, except the colouring was different due to their skin tones. Still, this wasn't his penis – this was Taichi's. And that's what made his heart race.
"Are you going to start sucking or what?" Taichi asked sharply. He must've thought Yamato was pausing out of hesitancy to do the act. "You're wasting my fucking time."
Yamato's eyes glanced up once to give Taichi a slight glare – he was still uncomfortable with what he was told to do – before he closed his eyes and parted his lips to accept the tip of Taichi's cock into his mouth.
Taichi was definitely glad Yamato had closed his eyes, because he was sure if the blond had seen the expression on his face as he watched those perfect fucking lips capture his dick – well, it would have been obvious that he had wanted it – that he was gay. No, that he was gay and wanted Yamato. And then the entire situation would have been reversed – Yamato would hold the power, not him. He and Yamato were both gay – which was fine and dandy, in some respects. But the fact he liked Yamato? Not fine and dandy. Yamato would spin that shit on him and do exactly what he was doing to him right now. He couldn't let that happen, even if Yamato's hurt expressions did make him think twice about what he was doing. No, it was better this way.
"You certainly know what you're doing," Taichi chuckled humourlessly to keep up his charade. "Experienced, huh? Whose cock besides Fujiyama's have you sucked? Or have you just been sucking his over and over since first year?"
Yamato didn't respond, apparently having chosen to ignore him. Well, that and his mouth was full. He sped up his pace to hopefully bring Taichi faster to orgasm so this whole thing could end – even though, admittedly, he was enjoying performing head on Taichi; the feel of his flesh between and around his tongue, the feel of solid thighs at his fingertips, and just the fact that it was Taichi. It was all making him wish to fucking god that he didn't get an erection. What the fuck would Taichi think if he got a boner from sucking him off?
Taichi tried to keep his breathing as normal as possible, but it was getting harder as Yamato sucked him closer to climax. It wasn't just the feeling of overwhelming physical pleasure and the thought of release – no, his clear full frontal view of Yamato sucking and bopping and licking around his member was enough to get his endorphin working overdrive. "You could suck dick for a living," he told the blond, only making it sound like an insult rather than a compliment – a thinly veiled excuse for why he was enjoying it so much.
A few more minutes passed, until Yamato's tongue flicked languorously around the underside of the head of the penis, and Taichi was done. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he gasped out between heavy breaths as his dick jerked within Yamato's mouth and released spurts of fluid, which Yamato expertly swallowed up, keeping in good pace.
When Yamato was sure Taichi had finished, he opened his eyes and sat up, releasing Taichi's penis from the confines of his mouth. He felt dirty. And . . . satisfied, like he'd done something he'd been trying to accomplish for ages. Fuck. He stared straight at Taichi with cold eyes. "Are we done?" he asked harshly. Subconsciously he was desperately wanting to go to the bathroom and jack off or something . . .
Taichi hadn't fully recovered from his release yet but he didn't want Yamato to know how his blowjob had affected him. He s-l-o-w-l-y tucked his spent dick back into his underwear and s-l-o-w-l-y zipped up his pants before prolonging the silence a little while longer, until finally giving Yamato an answer. "For tonight." He gave Yamato a pointed don't-fuck-with-me look for the tone he had used on him. "Watch it, Yamato."
Yamato threw him a dirty look, but it was nothing compared to how much he was seething underneath the surface. He had just sucked Taichi off at his fucking command and the arsehole was – well, still being a fucking arsehole to him. He roughly pushed opened the car door, getting out quickly before slamming it shut and stalking off towards the elevators that would take him straight to their apartment.
Inside the car, Taichi sat watching Yamato's back as he moved further and further away from him. Well, OK – he was staring at his backside more than anything. He smirked to himself as he wondered if he could get Yamato to agree to anal sex . . .
It was certainly an intriguing idea.
End of Chapter
YAY DONE. There are probably a lot of errors because it's late and such (or early, depending on how you look at it), and it's probably disjointed due to that fact - plus the fact that bits and pieces were written at different times, but . . . YAY DONE.
Please review and let me know what you think. :)