Are you willing to do this again?
Probably not.
That was what Mikey had responded to Gerard in the aftermath of having just acted out a rape scenario. While Mikey did enjoy getting to enact his long-time sexual fantasy, it also left him a bit shaken up; luckily, his partner was able to comfort him, slipping out of his dominating and intimidating persona and caress Mikey in his arms, tending to his wrists and neck that had been tightly gripped.
But overtime, the more Mikey thought back on it, he eventually told Gerard that he was willing to give it another try–albeit a bit more tame this time. And so, it was set: on a Friday afternoon, as Mikey, once again, comes home from working at the office.
He opens the door and walks into the dark living room, all the lights having been turned off; the only source coming from the evening sky outside, through the windows. Shutting the door, Mikey hears a notable creak, and freezes.
"Who's there?!" he asks into the darkness.
"You don't recognize your own brother's footsteps?" came the reply.
"G?" Mikey's voice trembled slightly. "Wha-how did you get back in here? I threw away the spare key!"
"I made one myself," Gerard chuckled. He stepped into clearer view, a mischievous smirk on his pale face. "They're very easy to buy, y'know. If anything, I'd figured you would've changed the lock after last time."
"Gerard, please, get out of here and leave me alone." Mikey darted his eyes down, huddling his arms around himself.
"What do you mean?" Gerard questioned almost mockingly, coming closer. "You didn't like what happened between us? The way you moaned, tried to stay as quiet as possible because I told you to?"
"You threatened me with a knife!"
"But I could see you got into it."
Mikey pushes Gerard an inch back and treads away from him. Within the next few seconds, Gerard grabs Mikey's wrist, and there is a brief struggle, and he is pinned against the wall–once more.
"G," Mikey orders with grit, unable to move his arms, "let go."
"C'mon," Gerard huffed, "quit lying to yourself. Isn't this what you've always wanted?"
Gerard leaned in and placed his mouth over Mikey's long neck, who swiftly turned his face away, writhing slightly.
"No. Stop."
"You can't make me," Gerard mumbled.
Leaning back, he let go of Mikey's arms and quickly hoisted him up by the waist. He put a leg in-between his.
He continued, tone trembling with desire, "You drive me crazy, y'know." His thigh started to gyrate up against Mikey's groin, slowly. "The thought of having you for myself. You were made for me and me alone. I loved getting to fuck you, and I will do it again."
Gerard's movement began to pick up the pace, set a rhythm. With this, a series of grunts from Mikey's lips while he continued struggling soon dwindled to quiet moans; his eyes closed as he wrapped his arms around Gerard's shoulders.
"Yeah?" Gerard breathed into his ear. "You like that–my big, beefy thigh rubbing on your cock?"
As evident, there was a hardening growing from Mikey's crotch, his own hips beginning to return the movement, if only minutely.
"I can feel you getting hard, plus, the sounds you're making. I'll take that as a 'yes.'"
He eased his head down to bite Mikey's neck, earning a jolt and sharp intake of breath from the latter. Ignoring the reaction, Gerard continued to bite, lick and suck. After all, he would only stop what he was doing if their safe word was said.
Besides the sounds emanating from both mens' mouths, the only other noise that could be heard in the room was a rhythmic thudding by Mikey being thrusted against the wall.
Gerard grunted, "You better be a good boy and not tell anyone about this. Or else, you'll be known as the 'brother-fucker.'"
Mikey's panting and moaning were reaching a crescendo, along with his gyrations intensifying. His erection felt hot against Gerard's thigh.
Gerard asked, "You gonna cream your pants now?" He almost broke character and laughed at his own usage of slang for a female orgasm, but it was doing wonders for Mikey.
Gerard pulled back, putting his own grinding to a halt. He gripped a hand on Mikey's throat and pushed his head back on the wall with a thud, feeling the racing pulse in the process.
"Hold on," the comic book artist told him, "let me see you."
Mikey's expression was in euphoria: eyelids shut, thrusting forward and as hard as ever, reaching his orgasm and riding it out; his mouth opened wide as he gasped out, "Ah! Ah, ah…"
"You're like a dog in heat," teased Gerard, and laughed. "See? You do want me, after all."
Mikey's vocalizations reduced to sharp exhales, his hips slowing down, becoming less forceful. Then, with a heaving sigh, he slumped back on the wall, his hands dropping from Gerard's shoulders to his sides.
Gerard's hold on Mikey's hip loosened. His other hand left his throat, and replaced it with his lips, gently kissing the mark that was made. The firmness in his voice now softened as he whispered, "Let's get you cleaned up, baby."
He moved away, towards the table where an open box of Kleenex was. He pulled out several soft tissues, and grabbed a fresh pair of pants, folded and ready, on a nearby couch. Heading back, Gerard set down the items and kneeled before his lover, undoing his pants for him, pulled them down to the ankles. He had one hand around a calf, the other starting to wipe the mess Mikey had made onto himself.
"What'd you think?" Gerard asked.
"That was really good," Mikey replied, gazing down.
"Was I scary to you again, or…?"
"Not as much as last time. Probably because I didn't really look at your face."
They both chuckled.
While Gerard cleaned the penis, he asked, "Was I being too rough?"
Mikey considered before responding with, "A bit, but, that's the whole point, isn't it?"
Gerard now feels a pang of guilt like last time. He quickly heads over to the kitchen to throw the tissues away and wash his hands. He returns with an ice pack. "Were you uncomfortable to the point where you thought about using the safe word?" He places another kiss on the bitten skin of Mikey's throat before adding the ice pack on there.
"No, no," Mikey reassured. "I like receiving hickeys from you, remember?"
Gerard nodded, grinned and sighed with relief. "Yeah. I just wanna make sure you're okay with how I carried it out."
"Don't worry, I am okay," Mikey smiled softly at him, wrapping his fingers around Gerard's wrist.
Gerard brought the pack from Mikey's throat to the back of his head. "Did I hit your head too hard?"
"No," Mikey replied, but eased into the coldness regardless, along with his lover's supple touch and gaze.
"And your back?" He placed a palm on Mikey's lower back where it had slammed onto the wall.
Mikey shook his head. "Doesn't hurt too much."
Despite this answer, Gerard pressed the pack onto that part. Afterward, he then raised Mikey's palm with his own, cool one and gave kisses on the parts of the arm he had restrained, followed by massaging it. He gave the same treatment to the other arm.
"Thanks," Mikey said. It amazed him still, how his brother tended to his needs, made sure he looked over every part he had just manhandled–the complete opposite of his fantasy character, who did not appear to care at all about the victim he was hurting.
"Anything for the person I love most."
Gerard brought a hand to Mikey's cheek, patting it lightly before bringing him forward. They shared a tender kiss, and Mikey was given the clean pants, which he proceeded to put on.
"Hey," Mikey voiced as he pulled the pants up, "what about you? Didn't you come when…?"
He eyed at Gerard's groin, which contained no evidence of an erection or ejaculation. If he had gotten hard earlier, it must have eased down by now.
"No," Gerard said, chuckling upon noticing where Mikey was looking. "But I'll take care of myself later. And I'll be thinking of you–how you were just now."