Corbin watches his brother undress with a peculiar mix of anticipation and contentment. While seeing Carson\u2019s scars \u2014 accumulated over years of encounters just like this one \u2014 doesn\u2019t excite him per se, they feel inviting, somehow. Like he\u2019s left little pieces of himself behind as darker lines on the younger man\u2019s skin. He reaches out to touch them and Carson melts into his arms, at least as eager as he is, for reasons that are nothing alike.<\/p>\n
Kissing Carson isn\u2019t like kissing his girlfriend. Never has been. It\u2019s like his younger brother wants to drink him up. He lets himself be pulled into it, as much as he can manage, to make Carson happy. It\u2019s hard to ignore that the chest he\u2019s running his fingers over is firm, flat.<\/p>\n
For once it\u2019s Carson who pulls back first, breaking their liplock. He sounds just a touch out of breath. \u201cYou\u2019re overdressed.\u201d<\/p>\n
Corbin chuckles, strokes his brother\u2019s cheek with the back of his hand. \u201cEager to get started?\u201d Of course he knows what Carson is really<\/em> looking forward to, and it\u2019s not what amounts to foreplay between the two of them. And Corbin can\u2019t blame him, not really. But as long as Carson seems satisfied with what they have, he\u2019s not overly inclined to question his brother\u2019s willingness to indulge him.<\/p>\n As bad as it would no doubt look to an outsider, what they\u2019re doing is harmless. That one time with Carson\u2019s cheek notwithstanding.<\/p>\n \u201cFuck you.\u201d Carson\u2019s hands are at Corbin\u2019s waist, inching his shirt out of his waistband until his hands can slip under it. His fingers are ever so slightly cool against Corbin\u2019s skin.<\/p>\n Corbin runs his right hand upward, over and past the inked-over bite scar on the side of Carson\u2019s neck, until his fingers tangle in his brother\u2019s hair. He seizes hold of a good handful, pulls hard enough to force Carson to meet his gaze. \u201cI could always leave.\u201d<\/p>\n They both know it\u2019s an empty threat, that Corbin wants this just as much as Carson does. Hell, Carson\u2019s prospects without Corbin are near-infinitely better than the other way around. Still, the younger man all but growls, his fingers curling against Corbin\u2019s skin, fingernails digging in. That better not leave a mark, or else he\u2019s going to have some explaining to do.<\/p>\n It\u2019s not long after that until Corbin\u2019s shirt lies discarded on the floor, and Carson catches him in another kiss as his hands get to work on Corbin\u2019s belt. He kisses back with fake enthusiasm, bites Carson\u2019s lower lip and only almost enjoys the gasp it draws from his little brother. His belt buckle jingles softly as it\u2019s released, and moments later the grip of his pants slackens further as Carson undoes his fly.<\/p>\n Fingers curl around the waistband of both Corbin\u2019s pants and boxers, and again Carson is the one to break lip contact, his face slightly flushed, lips parted. As he starts lowering Corbin\u2019s pants, he moves towards kneeling, until Corbin\u2019s hand, still in his hair, clenches and stops his descent.<\/p>\n \u201cCars. Don\u2019t.\u201d He doesn\u2019t know exactly why<\/em> he doesn\u2019t like the idea of his brother\u2019s mouth on his cock, but he doesn\u2019t. It\u2019s a boundary Carson chafes against, and every so often decides to push.<\/p>\n Carson lets go of Corbin\u2019s clothes, grabs his hips instead for leverage to haul himself back upright. \u201cYou\u2019re no fun.\u201d There\u2019s mischief in the curl of the black-haired man\u2019s lips. For all Corbin knows Carson considers his no a challenge<\/em>. Fucking Carson.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s not what your mom said.\u201d He releases his brother\u2019s hair, gives him a light push, just enough to send him backwards a step or two.<\/p>\n Carson\u2019s eyes narrow, the curve of his lips goes harder. \u201cAnd what would your<\/em> mom say about you<\/em>, Bee?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause you\u2019re going to tell Mom you want my dick so bad you practically beg<\/em> me to cut you. Sure.\u201d Mentioning it in so many words is enough to kindle a tiny, flickering flame in him, a near-invisible tint of heat to his face.<\/p>\n Carson rolls his eyes. \u201cYet your titfucking ass is still trash talking. I\u2019ve been<\/em> ready.\u201d<\/p>\n Corbin shakes his head, steps out of his remaining clothes. \u201cWhat you\u2019ve been is a pain in the ass.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLook who\u2019s talking.\u201d Carson backs up and lets himself fall backwards onto his bed, onto the waterproof sheet he\u2019s spread across it to keep his bedding from getting bloodied. His half-smile is probably part bravado, but that makes it no less an olive branch. \u201cLet\u2019s?\u201d<\/p>\n On the nightstand, within easy reach, lies a disposable scalpel, still in its sterile packaging, next to a box of surgical gloves, a pump bottle of personal lubricant, and a bottle of something Corbin feels comfortable assuming from past experience is disinfectant. He\u2019s not going to say the words, but he can at least admit to himself that yes, Carson had<\/em> been prepared.<\/p>\n Corbin does like that about his brother. As long as he\u2019s available in the first place, Carson never seems to need much notice to set up for company.<\/p>\n Now he joins Carson on the narrow bed, half-lying to one side of his brother and reaching across him for the scalpel. He can practically feel they younger man\u2019s eyes on him; knows they\u2019ll be fixed on his face as long as he\u2019s holding the blade. The foil package is quickly torn and discarded, and for a moment he pauses to consider the sharp edge. It doesn\u2019t, in itself, do anything for him, but the thought of what he will do with<\/em> it is a different matter.<\/p>\n He leans in close enough for his breath to stir Carson\u2019s hair, and feels his brother tense next to him where skin touches skin. \u201cReady, Cars?\u201d Briefly, he presses his lips against skin, then pulls back.<\/p>\n For all that Carson\u2019s habit of smart-mouthing him \u2014 especially when they see each other in private like this \u2014 has only gotten more prevalent over the years, now he remains silent save for the sound of deep, deliberate breaths, and his nod is short, measured. Tense. And Corbin can\u2019t really blame him. He sets the tip of the scalpel blade against his brother\u2019s skin, then slides it along, pressing down. It stirs something inside him that nothing else can quite touch when he feels the tissue yield under the sharp blade and watches it draw a red line in its wake.<\/p>\n He can hear Carson\u2019s breath shift with every cut he makes, sharp intakes of breath turning into ragged, extended exhalations, but it registers more as background noise. His fascination, attraction, to the action of piercing his brother\u2019s skin is just that much more immediate, that much louder, to his senses.<\/p>\n It stirs up something else in him, too. That is, after all, why Carson lets him do this.<\/p>\n He is hard against his brother\u2019s thigh. Carson\u2019s jaw is clenched so tight the tension is visible on his face. With a sigh, Corbin wipes the sides of the scalpel blade against his brother\u2019s skin. Carson has been a good sport, and he doesn\u2019t want to actually harm <\/em>him. He starts to move down the bed, but a hand seizes his wrist.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m going on top.\u201d Carson\u2019s voice is unsteady, but his conviction isn\u2019t.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you really sure\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLie. Down.\u201d<\/p>\n On one hand, Corbin knows full well that his brother is more than capable of being assertive when he wants something. On the other, Carson\u2019s insistence now is making him slightly uneasy, even if it wouldn\u2019t be the first time his younger brother has ridden his cock. \u201cYou\u2019re not going to\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh fuck you, Bee!\u201d Carson gives his wrist a yank. \u201cWhat kind of gay panic ass question is that? Of course I\u2019m fucking not; if I wanted to fuck you I would have asked! I\u2019m not even into<\/em> topping.\u201d<\/p>\n Corbin tries on a sheepish smile, hoping it will placate his brother. \u201cSorry, Cars, I\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Carson rolls his eyes. \u201cYou\u2019re so fucking straight<\/em>, Bee. Lie your ass down and shut up.\u201d<\/p>\n He watches Carson as they both move, switching positions on a bed that definitely was never intended to have space for two grown men. His brother\u2019s jaw is still tense, and his movements seem almost too<\/em> controlled. But Carson is clearly not going to hear any arguments, especially not after the mouthful Corbin already had of his own feet.<\/p>\n All but the very shallowest of the cuts in Carson\u2019s skin are still bleeding, a couple of them enough for a trickle to wind its way down his body. Corbin doesn\u2019t pay much attention to what, exactly, Carson is doing, instead admiring his own handiwork as the younger man straddles his body. Cuts in various stages of healing along with the fresh ones, scars varying in color from slightly pinkish to a brown darker than the surrounding skin.<\/p>\n He can feel Carson\u2019s fingers curling around his shaft, slick with lubricant, through his whole body. They slide along his length, and he closes his eyes with a groan, focusing on the sensation. Then Carson\u2019s grip changes, along with his position over Corbin.<\/p>\n Corbin might not, himself, see the appeal of being where his brother is now, but there\u2019s no mistaking the sounds coming from Carson as he starts impaling himself on Corbin\u2019s cock as anything but positive, pleasured, fulfilled. He doesn\u2019t need to understand it to recognize it. He opens his eyes, and sees it written on Carson\u2019s face, too, feels it in every tiny shift of the younger man\u2019s muscles, with every fraction of an inch disappearing into his body\u2019s hot embrace.<\/p>\n His brother\u2019s expression is dazed, dreamy. Drunk not off alcohol, but off the moment.<\/p>\n It\u2019s not the first time he sees Carson like that, and it\u2019s probably the closest he ever gets to feeling anything like attraction for his brother.<\/p>\n Carson supports himself on Corbin\u2019s chest, and he reaches up with his left hand to squeeze Carson\u2019s right. Lets his brother set the pace, maintain control. Only when he feels he has a grasp of what Carson wants does he start rolling his hips. The pace is more sedate than he would have expected, but not so much that anything immediately strikes him as outright wrong.<\/p>\n It\u2019s difficult to tell how close his brother might be getting. He can tell, however, that over time his movements become a little more erratic, his breath more labored, and a slight tremor is spreading down Carson\u2019s arms into Corbin\u2019s chest. The sweat beading on his skin mingles with the blood that still hasn\u2019t dried \u2014 Corbin can\u2019t help but think that has to sting.<\/p>\n A loud sound, like something falling, startles them both. Corbin isn\u2019t sure whether Carson\u2019s left hand slips as he turns to look, or if his arm simply gives out under him, but suddenly his brother is falling forward, and he automatically moves to catch him.<\/p>\n He only remembers the scalpel is still in his right hand when it meets resistance, then is wrenched from his grip. Time slows down, yet he can\u2019t act fast enough to change what\u2019s already happened. The sound Carson makes rips his heart out.<\/p>\n Somehow his brother catches himself on now-shaking arms and manages to lower himself onto his side. His face is pale, and as Corbin regains enough composure to at least shuffle to the side to give him more space his right hand comes to clutch the left side of his chest, fingers splayed to either side of the scalpel grip sticking out between his ribs.<\/p>\n \u201cCarson? Carson, are you alright?\u201d Corbin could hit himself; of course Carson isn\u2019t alright.<\/p>\n Clearly Carson shares that sentiment, because all the answer he gives is a dark look as he slowly, slowly, works himself into a sitting position. His breaths sound\u2026 wrong, somehow. Shallow, labored. Looking pale and much worse for wear, his brother looks down at himself, grimacing at the sight of the chest wound.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat the\u2026 actual fuck\u2026 Bee?\u201d Carson sounds angry, but it\u2019s a flat sort of anger, like he can\u2019t find enough fuel to express it fully.<\/p>\n He doesn\u2019t know what to answer; of course he wants Carson to know it was an accident, but telling him that doesn\u2019t seem nearly as important as making sure that his baby brother is safe. That he will be okay. \u201cWhat can I do?\u201d<\/p>\n He can\u2019t remember ever being so scared in his life.<\/p>\n It\u2019s clearly not the answer Carson expects. The seconds of silence before he replies seem like hours. \u201cGive me\u2026 your phone.\u201d Another couple of seconds, then he continues. \u201cCheck on\u2026 Princess.\u201d<\/p>\n He finds his pants, pulls his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it before handing it to his brother. Carson\u2019s fingers transfer blood onto the glass as he taps an icon, then starts typing. Corbin remains where he is, watching in silent panic.<\/p>\n \u201cBee.\u201d Carson hasn\u2019t even looked up. \u201cPrincess.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not worried about the damn snake; I\u2019m worried about you! What are you even doing; fucking Googling?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d Somewhere, Carson seems to find the energy to do more than strictly necessary, as he raises a shaky middle finger Corbin\u2019s way. \u201cPrincess. Now, Bee.\u201d<\/p>\n He hesitates for another few moments, then reluctantly steps away, around the bed, and towards the glass enclosure that holds Carson\u2019s without a doubt most treasured possession. The yellow-and-fudge snake is moving around, and he can\u2019t see anything obviously wrong with it. \u201cShe\u2019s fine.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat fell?\u201d Carson\u2019s voice isn\u2019t carrying as well as Corbin feels it should.<\/p>\n He looks again. What at first glance looks like a metal bowl with a black cord coming out of its bottom is lying on the bottom of the cage. The cord looks to be under tension, running all the way to the top of the cage where it passes out next to a piece of plastic, looking like the remnants of some kind of bracket. Looking again, there\u2019s definitely light, warm light, showing around the rim of the bowl-that-isn\u2019t-one. \u201cHeat lamp, I think.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFuck.\u201d<\/p>\n He looks over to see Carson start to rise, and steps over to stop him. The weight of Corbin\u2019s hand on his shoulder alone seems to be enough to turn it into an impossibility. \u201cDon\u2019t be an idiot, Cars.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLook who\u2019s\u2026 talking.\u201d Carson still sounds angry; glares at the hand that not ten minutes ago held the scalpel now embedded in his chest.<\/p>\n \u201cDo\u2026 You don\u2019t seriously think I meant<\/em> to stab you!?\u201d Corbin is too worried to feel insulted by the implication. \u201cDo you?\u201d<\/p>\n Carson shrugs. Maybe. He starts to lift his shoulders and winces, at any rate.<\/p>\n \u201cI should just call an ambulance for you\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t!\u201d The hand holding his phone moves, putting Carson\u2019s body between it and Corbin. \u201cI\u2019ll\u2026 take care\u2026 of it.\u201d<\/p>\n There\u2019s definitely something Carson isn\u2019t telling him, but Corbin doesn\u2019t think he can get his brother to talk. And not only because speaking, at the moment, seems to be difficult for him. \u201cYou are so full of shit right now. Need me to do anything about the snake?\u201d It\u2019s about the last thing he wants to do, especially when his brother is clearly hurt, but clearly Carson\u2019s priorities are about as straight as Carson himself is, and he doesn\u2019t want to risk the dumbass hurting himself worse.<\/p>\n \u201cTake\u2026 the lamp\u2026 out. For now.\u201d<\/p>\n Okay. He can do that much. It doesn\u2019t even involve actually handling Carson\u2019s pet.<\/p>\n By the time he\u2019s managed to complete what had sounded like a simple task, somehow not releasing the agitated python from its terrarium in the process, Carson has magicked up his well-stocked case of first-aid supplies from somewhere. Bloody pieces of gauze lie on the floor at his feet, his hands are gloved, and he\u2019s tying up a suture that seems to Corbin like it should be a lot less urgent than the wound in his chest.<\/p>\n \u201cCars, what are you doing<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n Carson looks up, rolls his eyes, and says nothing. His breathing is definitely, clearly labored. The fresh stitches on his chest and stomach aren\u2019t quite as neat as his usual work, either. When he goes to place another one, Corbin forces himself to look away.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m taking you to the emergency room.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot yet.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCarson!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIdiot.\u201d No elaboration as to what exactly earned him that one. Carson opens another sterile package of gauze; he can hear the plastic and paper crinkle as they\u2019re separated. \u201cJust let me\u2026 finish. Go wash\u2026 hands\u2026 or something.\u201d<\/p>\n It feels like a ridiculous suggestion, so out of keeping with the gravity of the situation. Corbin does it anyway, because it gives him an excuse to get away from the temptation to watch Carson\u2019s needlework. When he comes back there\u2019s skin tape and dressings covering every one of the intentional cuts he made today.<\/p>\n \u201cCome here.\u201d Carson is looking worryingly gray. \u201cHold this.\u201d<\/p>\n He sits down next to his brother, lets his hand be guided to a folded piece of gauze. It puts his fingers right next to that damnable scalpel, and he has to consciously remind himself of some past first-aid class that talked about not removing impaling objects. He doesn\u2019t even remember when he took it. Had it been in school? For work?<\/p>\n \u201cReady?\u201d<\/p>\n Carson doesn\u2019t give him time to ask what he\u2019s supposed to be ready for; bloodied gloved fingers close around the scalpel grip and pull. The breathless half-scream his younger brother lets out makes Corbin\u2019s stomach knot. Then the sharp tool clatters to the floor and Carson\u2019s hand is clasped over his, pressing the gauze to the now freely bleeding wound.<\/p>\n He can see Carson\u2019s hands shake pulling out a length of tape that matches Corbin\u2019s skin better than his own. Clearly his brother has burned through his reserves.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you need sugar?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t worry\u2026 about it.\u201d Carson sounds irritated. \u201cAlmost done.\u201d<\/p>\n Somehow, the gauze gets fixed in place. A few strips of tape are a bit askew, but it doesn\u2019t matter. Then Carson returns to his case of medical supplies, pulling out a long, thin metal object in sterile packaging. With a look of intense concentration he reaches for Corbin\u2019s phone, wakes it up, and reads through the text on the screen.<\/p>\n Corbin watches with a sinking feeling that something is more wrong than Carson has been willing to let on.<\/p>\n \u201cBee. Clothes.\u201d Did he space out and miss Carson telling him the first time, or is his brother just being irritable? He\u2019s not sure.<\/p>\n He has blood on his hands again, but he doesn\u2019t care as he pulls on his own clothes, then goes to help Carson with his. He sees his brother slip the item from his first-aid case into the leather satchel that holds his diabetes supplies, but says nothing about it. It\u2019s something to do with whatever Carson isn\u2019t telling him, but he knows his brother well enough to know asking isn\u2019t going to do him any good.<\/p>\n \u201cCan I take you to the emergency room now<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n Carson looks exhausted, but one corner of his mouth twitches. \u201cYes. But let me\u2026 do the talking.\u201d<\/p>\n Fucking Carson.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Corbin watches his brother undress with a peculiar mix of anticipation and contentment. While seeing Carson\u2019s scars \u2014 accumulated over years of encounters just like this one \u2014 doesn\u2019t excite him per se, they feel inviting, somehow. Like he\u2019s left little pieces of himself behind as darker lines on the younger man\u2019s skin. He reaches more \u00bb<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[7,70,71,35,8,72,18],"class_list":["post-204","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-adult","tag-carson-emery","tag-corbin-emery","tag-incest","tag-mm","tag-piquerism","tag-violence"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/vixenscratch\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/204","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/vixenscratch\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/vixenscratch\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/vixenscratch\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/vixenscratch\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=204"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/vixenscratch\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/204\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":210,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/vixenscratch\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/204\/revisions\/210"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/vixenscratch\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=204"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/vixenscratch\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=204"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/vixenscratch\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=204"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}