A/N: How about a P.O.V. change?

A week flew by faster than Dave had anticipated.

It seemed like just the other day Bro had shoved his tongue down his throat, but apparently not. He hasn't seen or heard anything from his guardian in that time. As far as he knows, Bro is on the fucking moon. He thought to check his brother's room on day three - just to be sure - but he can't go in there. That area is strictly off limits. And Bro would definitely find out if Dave tried to invade his personal space. He always does.

It's a Saturday and the middle of July, so Dave has no reason to get out of bed early. The only reason he moves at all actually, is because the TV in the living room is on and the noise is preventing him from enjoying sleep properly. Dave doesn't really remember leaving the TV, but he was pretty tired when he finally shuffled to bed last night. He wouldn't put it past himself.

He yawns, stepping out into the living room in his pajamas. Which is just a pair of boxers. It's too hot in Texas to sleep in anything else, especially when one takes into consideration his faulty air conditioning. Bro has tinkered with it, and so have professionals. Evidently, it just hates them, because no one has yet to find a single thing wrong with the wiring.

Speaking of Bro, he's taking up the entirety of the couch. And he's using the TV to watch My Little Pony. And not even the newest version, which is at least tolerable. He's watching the old version where Rarity is a disgusting color of pink and a princess and an earth pony. Dave hates the show, but Bro has made sure that he knows all of the main differences between the old cast and the newest one. Forget paying taxes, this is information that will be totally helpful later in life. (Sarcasm heavily implied.)

Sometimes he forgets that his Bro is a complete nerd.

"Play it a little louder, why don't you?" Dave rolls his eyes, stepping past him and into the kitchen for breakfast without making eye-contact. "I don't think the neighbors can hear yet. And what better way to wake up on a Saturday than by listening to poorly-plotted lessons of friendship at six in the morning?" Dave says sarcastically.

They don't even play that show on TV anymore. Or, at least, not on any channel they have. Not that it matters, because Bro has every season on DVD. Sadly, he does it unironically, too. It stopped being funny when Dave was five.

Bro doesn't reply, but the TV gets a little louder, so Dave guesses that he heard him.

Yawning, Dave opens the fridge to see what they have for breakfast. About a year or two ago - around the same time as Lil' Cal's disappearance - Bro stopped keeping his swords in there, but that still doesn't mean that there's food. Both of them are too lazy to shop most of the time, so usually it's just leftover takeout and snack foods. Not really a great diet, but Dave's metabolism is high enough for him to not give a damn.

He bends down, pushing aside the takeout on the lower shelf (Chinese - Italian on the shelf above), and reaching for the apple juice he knows that he stashed in the back. When he doesn't see it though, he scowls, straightening back up and shutting the fridge

"Bro, where did you-?" He starts to ask his brother where he put the apple juice, but when he tries to step back, he makes sudden contact with the aforementioned brother's torso, hardened and solid after decades of careful exercises. Dave's impact - unsurprisingly - doesn't shake Bro in the slightest. It just causes him to push back against the fridge to put some distance between the two, and Bro takes the opportunity to grip Dave's waist tightly.

"Dave." He says seriously, and Bro's breath tickles the back of his neck pleasantly. "We need to talk. About that incident on the roof."

And there's what he wanted to avoid.

Dave tries to keep himself under control. His lips tingle at the memory of what happened, and he has to suppress a shiver. Did Bro know how much he liked it? How disappointed and disgusted with himself he was after his guardian left? Because he is Dave's guardian. He raised Dave. Bro shouldn't touch him like that, but Dave had wanted him to.

He closes his eyes. "I don't want to." Dave tells him stiffly, struggling experimentally in the vice-like grip on his waist. Bro just holds him tighter though, so it looks like he's stuck.

Bro's lips brush along the nape of his neck, and this time, Dave can't help the pleased shiver that works its way down his spine at the feeling. "I think you do, though." He insists softly, the hands on Dave's hips inching towards to front. Bro squeezes his thighs gently, and Dave inadvertently lets out a barely audible whimper. "Don't pretend you didn't like it. Or that you don't like it now." Bro's voice takes on a hardened edge, and Dave falls silent. His mouth is too dry to form words now, not that it matters. Bro wouldn't listen to his protests anyway. They both know that denying anything Bro just said would be lying. And he doesn't tolerate when Dave lies.

Bro kisses the bottom of Dave's hairline softly, inching his way up his neck like he has all the time in the world. Dave quickly grows uncomfortable, for reasons that involve impatience more than any desire to push Bro away. His lips burn against Dave's cold skin, and when Bro's tongue darts out to tease the shell of his ear, he can't help the moan that comes out.

He hums in approval, nipping at Dave's earlobe teasingly. "You sound better than I imagined." Bro tells him with a smirk, and goddammit if his words don't send a wave of heat directly to Dave's already hard cock.

Because he actually imagined it. Bro imagined Dave moaning for him, and probably doing a lot of other things. He doesn't know how long Bro has wanted him. Dave doesn't know why it even matters how long he's waited. The fact remains that it's illegal. He's underage and Bro is his legal guardian. Which means that this needs to stop, regardless of how much Dave likes it.

"Bro-" He gasps out, his hands flat against the fridge as he squirms in his brother's hold. "You need to stop-"

And just like that, Bro does.

The weight holding Dave in place is gone without warning, and he feels strangely cold without Bro's warmth all over him.

His heart pounds as Dave turns back around to face Bro. He's not there, though. He has to search for a moment, but his gaze lands on Bro sitting at the couch once more. He's still watching that awful show - completely relaxed as if he hadn't just been touching Dave and talking about how he wanted his younger brother.

Suddenly, Dave isn't hungry. He doesn't want to be around Bro until he can work out his confused feelings. So - still flushed bright red - Dave walks back to his room as fast as possible, not looking over his shoulder or even at Bro at all as he leaves.

The walk to his room seems longer than ever before, and Dave practically sprints the final few steps, slamming the door closed behind him and locking it with shaky hands. Bro can unlock it easily if he wants to, but it still gives Dave a sense of security.

He curls up on his bed - blankets and pillows surrounding him on all sides like a fortress - and tries to cry. Dave really tries. After all, he was just sexually assaulted by his brother. He should be beside himself with tears, right? So… why isn't he? Dave should be mentally traumatized by this. But instead, all he wants to do is go back out there and ask Bro to continue.

A/N: You guys probably don't appreciate how much writing I have to do to update regularly. I have a YouTube channel to keep frequent, too. And I made a 20 second video today that took 4 hours. 4 hours of my day. Gone. Plus school work, and chores, and keeping consistent within my friend group. They all add up. Anyway, this rant has nothing to do with anything. Consider it irrelevant while you wait for an update. Which should be in just a few days. Promise.