He saw him running in the wet, cold grass, lit by the white lights of the stadium. Come on, come on... He dodged a few opponents, and when the opposing captain Waluigi barred the way to the goals, he jumped as high as he could, turned his head upside down, and his leg expanded. A moment when time seemed to slow down, the crowd, the commentators, the rain and the wind, the match, until he fell head first into the mud and the referee whistled. And Mario took off from his chair, overflowing with joy and pride. The bleachers thundered with him, raising the flags to his insignia: Luigi had caught up with Waluigi's team, 4 against 3. Waluigi kicked the ground. Luigi was sitting on the ground trying to catch his breath. Mario watched him gasp, joined by his companions who must be congratulating him for having crossed the entire field all by himself, practically. Mario sat back down, his face still smiling.

Soon the half-time would come, and he would go congratulate his brother. How happy he was for him! But when Luigi lifted his shirt to wipe his sticky face and hair, he remained transfixed. For the first time. Well, really the first time? Since he wanted to impress people preparing for the Striker Cup, he had started to run, to parkour, bodybuilding a little, simply playing football. A month and already his muscles were defined, long and nervous but flexible, solid. And not that Mario was attracted seeing his own brother wiping his forehead or dress up into a full turquoise plush after sport, but he felt a certain envy, envy to look like him, and envy to ... touch ... his body, see how it felt. It should not have been a problem for him, if Luigi wasn't so fragile, too easily embarrassed. Or Mario didn't dare, or he had never had that idea so far.

Mario did not know if it was a good thing not to break free of these thoughts. All of a sudden, he felt weird, in his belly, light and "marshmallow". He was still watching his brother in the huge television at the end of the stadium: Luigi had put his shirt back on and was drinking his whole water bottle. He'd have to shower and change his clothes after... Snap out of it, you dirty brother, he reprimanded himself, shaking his head.

I'll wait here. It'll be okay, that's not, it ... I just want to greet Luigi. I can not blame myself for wanting some hug. It'll comfort him, he'll feel better, and we're not going too far, so...we're brothers, it's obvious. But he knew very well that he was trying to repress his growing desire. He was beginning to imagine what he would do, and without realizing it, it was from an imaginary kiss that he was drawed, at the moment the doorknob creaked. Luigi rushed into the "captain room", wearing a towel. He was blushing, perhaps he had met someone through the locker room, and Mario realized he was not the only one to. Hidden behind the locker, his heart was beating louder and louder, realizing the situation he had set himself into, what he wanted to do. He breathed the smell of shower gel and shampoo, and like a little spy watched him dry his hair and mustache and put on his sports clothes, eve his shoes. There, I will not be taunted.

"Hey Weegee!"

Luigi jumped, but continued, "Hey Mario. I did not know you were there ... "

"I just wanted to greet you. That smash, weege, that was incredible ! "Mario jumped on him, grinning from ear to ear. "That's my bro!" Then he shifted to the small, hard couch.

"Th-Thanks bro ..." Luigi stammered, his hand tangling his hair.

"... you're worried, aren't you?"

"Yes. I've trained but I barely made it out, for now. I'm a bit tired and it hurts ... "

"It's okay, hey: if you are tired, what about them ! They ran as fast as they could to catch you up, and they panicked since your team draw level to them. "

"Yeah, you're right. Hehe, I'm sorry. "

Mario began to feel weird, harder even. There he was in front of him. Control yourself!

"Wanna hug?"

He felt good against him. He was still a bit cold, but ...

Luigi sighed a little as he began to massage his back as best he could. Why was not he surprised? Why was Mario surprised that his brother took this for a simple massage before the match? They moved away from each other, and when Luigi laid on his stomach, Mario began to release every tension in him, from the back to the legs. This is stupid, completely stupid, lame... Every time he compressed his back or relaxed his muscles, Luigi sighed or groaned with satisfaction. "There, just there. Oh this feels good," he whispered. He had to be smiling, delighted that his brother was doing this favor. "Oof!" he let out under a vigorous movement. Fifteen minutes left before the match. "Thanks bro, I really appreciate it. You can stop now. "And he got on his back, his face finally serene.

"You know Luigi, if you win this match, I might give you something special."

"Really? Oh you do not have to ... "

"But you will."

"Huh?"

He must have had noticed it then. Mario's gaze had darkened, at once calm and eager. He couldn't take it anymore, he had decided it: now or never. It was the perfect moment. All he had dreamed of...

"Well, I still can give you some reward right now."

"That's kind ..."

"You want it?"

"Hum ... yeah, if you want to ..."

"Close your eyes."

He was smiling. Lips moisten, he locked them on the other two, while blocking his arms. Luigi jumped but could not run away.

Mario realized after a while that his brother seemed weak under him. And that he responded to his kisses, still reassuring. He released a hand to tilt his head back and give easier access. Hot, sweet, eager even, while his brother let himself go, trembling. They stopped to catch their breath. Cheeks burning, in trance, Mario looked at his watch. Ten minutes. Shit. Gotta be quick. So he resumed, forcing his tongue between Luigi's lips, who complained slightly. Slowly, tenderly, he sliped his hand under the green and blue shirt and went to caress him. He even lift the piece of clothing, to slide his head under his neck down to the chest which he licked. Luigi was panting : "M-Mario, what, what are you doing ?! Stop, hah, stop please!" He blushed even harder, feeling that his feet had nothing but socks, and that his shorts went off with them. "Nice boxers Weegee," Mario commented. He smiled when he saw Luigi shaking with a spasm as he rubbed the bulge of his pale pink underpants. "M-M-Mario! Please, don't!" But Mario was going to do it until the end. Although ... An idea came to mind.

Shoving his hand under his back to lift Luigi against him and lick his nipple, his head a few inches away, he infiltrated his hand under the boxers, and tried with a finger. "AHH, n-n-no, aaahh!" Mario hadn't realized it that clearly: Luigi loved it? For he was turning his head to hide his expression of pain and intoxication at the same time, he wanted to fight off Mario with his hand and yet let it go. "M-Mario! Ma-ahhhh! "He must have felt the crazy pleasure running up his spine, at every back and forth, stroking the package just above ...

"Ahhh - AAAAAHHH ! MAARRIIOOOOO ! " The other held him firmly as he squirmed under orgasm. Luigi let out the hottest moans Mario had ever heard. When finally his hips stoped humping, Mario resumed.

Luigi was suffocating. He couldn't take it anymore, any longer.

"Mario ... pleasss ... stop ... I ... let me go!"

"Nah, Luigi, I said you're getting a reward, that's what I'm doing."

He could feel the white liquid flowing down his hand, but still plunged it slowly, tenderly, but always coming to the goal, even when Luigi tried to stop it.

"Nnggh ... But I ... I'm gonna be late! Please Mario ... "

Indeed, he had only one minute left before somebody came.

"I won't stop though."

Luigi started grunting again. He sighed, desperate:

"Then ... make this quick ..."

"Oh, so you want it?"

"No, just ... hhhh ... finish that off, so ... g-ggah ! ... so you can ... let ... mmhh, me go ..."

He nibbled him gently, while Luigi focused not on the fear that someone would see them like that, but on every sensation, breathless and teary-eyed. "C-Come on ..." Mario had stopped moving back and forth to push just behind those organs, which gradually made his brother ecstatic.

"Ahh, ahh, AHH! More, more! "

He obeyed, rubbing faster, Luigi moaning in rhythm, again, again, barely able to soften his shrieks, until someone knocked the door.

They jumped. Mario hurriedly reassured the team that everything was fine, and that his brother was just getting dres - getting ready talking to him. He thanked them for the warning, and waited at the opened door. His hand on his mouth and his eyes clenched, Luigi lowered his T-shirt, put on his shorts, his shoes. He tried as best as he could to breathe calmly and not to blush so deeply. Oh that was frustrating; oh how close had he been to freeing himself, but still in erection, he had to go play. He showed himself a few seconds later. Worried that he had been heard. Sweaty and hair undone. Oh, that wasn't going to matter, because it was raining. Nevertheless his team gave him a strange look. He apologized. He leaved.

"Good luck, bro." He stopped.

"If I win," he whispered, "will you ..?" His brother smiled mischievously.

"Maybe."

Mario regained his place on the bleachers, greeting people on the way ; he didn't belive it. He was still excited about what had happened, there wasn't any return after all. But above all, he felt pleasure about unintentionally teasing his brother, who was entering the stadium. It wasn't a good, but he still chuckled as to know why ... to know why his brother's eyes were half open, why his legs were real noodles, and why a whitish liquid was running out there. Poor Luigi. He lost the match.

It was midnight when Mario came home. It wasn't complicated: the pipes of the Mushroom Kingdom were real teleporters. So Luigi had disappeared since the end of the match. Mario was upset, really upset. He really was blaming himself. He closed the door behind him. For hours, his brother had fought to strengthen himself. For weeks, he had sweated training. He had hoped to win the Cup this time. But because of a brother's whim, who nevertheless should have lead him to victory, he had ended up in the bottom of the list. Mario ate some chocolates. Here, he even heard his brother crying. That's right, he would have pleased him only if he won. But Mario felt his guilt even more violently. To make his little brother fail, AND to leave him without reward? He had played well. Despite his attention drawn to Mario, despite his still weak body, he had played, just less quickly, less accurately, less ... He sighed. Not much left than to go comfort his little brother, and in an orthodox way, because he wasn't so sure that Luigi wanted to see him "ever again". Another sob that came from above. He climbed the stairs silently. He opened the door. "Luigi?" No, he did not expect that. Well, it was legitimate, but seeing his brother desperately trying to push a sex toy inside while stroking like Mario had done, through his underpants, it sure guarantees a shiver. This time he could see how he was fidgeting on his blankets. He hadn't even taken time to prepare them to cover him in case Mario came back. He was more concerned, tongue at the corner of his lip, to find the spot that had provoked so many sensations and to brutally push the object against, hoping to finish the job.

He gasped, and cried a little. Whether it was the sadness of losing the game, or the pain that went along with the movements, Mario was less sure of it than the fact of not being able to find the same pleasure again. He heard him moaning, yes, a few "Mario ..." sometimes, then blushing furiously for a moment, Luigi turned his face to the wall, ashamed in front of any person who could observe. It was so hard, he was sweating. Mario couldn't help feeling a certain excitement, and some "pride" to give pleasure so easily to his brother. As if he knew him by heart, he had known that his brother, with a little submissive and feminine fantasy, would love to be ... well, taken like a girl. It was just a shame that there was no way to remove the pain, nor the jam, that as much as he knew there wasn't any Vagina Mushroom yet invented. Because Luigi was so hot and cute at the moment that Mario wanted to help him…

But another idea - again - came to mind. It would be more intense in a place that would embarrass her brother, right? Like the locker rooms, just before the match. A little spice maybe? A little teasing again ... That's why Mario only observed him, brushing against his own erection and smiling calmly at this little show. Finally Luigi gave up and started crying for good. Do not worry brother, I'll make myself forgiven.