Silly, silly Mikey. Gerard knows what you want; don't worry. WAYCEST one-shot. Read, review, rate and feel my love! :P
“So you want me to believe that you don’t like it when I do this?”
I lean forward and latch my mouth onto the exposed skin of Mikey’s swanlike neck, sucking down on it hard enough for me to be certain it will leave a mark, and swirl my tongue over the platinum plating of my diamond boy in the special way that always makes him moan.
Just like he is right now. Apart from it’s more like a whimper because he’s trying to supress it, trying to fight off what neither of us can deny. Not that I want to deny it; if anything, I want to show off my sixteen-year-old lover to the world, make everyone know that he’s mine and nobody else’s. My little toy, just like I’m his teddy bear whenever he’s in the mood for a good cuddling. I like it when he wants cuddling; he knows the price of a cuddle and he knows just how I like my payment. And boy, is he good at handing it over.
Too good for this to be as wrong as he’s trying to convince himself it is. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever known anything to be any righter. Maybe not to everyone else or even to Mikey, but to me it makes more sense than any of the stupid little lessons I was forced to sit through in school. Before I got expelled for burning down the sports department after a particularly frustrating dodge ball match. But this is even righter than that small act of gloriously sweet revenge.
I mean, incest isn’t that bad, right?
Of course it fucking isn’t. Not when it’s with someone as beautiful and precious as Mikey. As my baby brother.
It’s not like I’m some sort of perverted freak who seduced his kid brother when aforementioned kid brother was still only fourteen and oh-so delicate. It’s not like I pinned him to the bathroom wall and taught him how to kiss. With tongues. And hands. And how to take it like a whore against the wall, with nothing to make it any easier for him.
Okay, so maybe it is a little dodgy-sounding, but trust me; Mikey’s nowhere near as innocent and fragile as the little minx can make himself out to be. Half the shit we do is what he’s teaching me. It’s usually the smuttier half.
The whimper crackles in his throat like a shattering diamond, giving me all the drive I need to suck that little bit harder, work my tongue against his skin that little bit quicker and grip my hands around his hips as though I’m never going to let go. Well, I’m not. Not until I’ve won this, anyway.
I buck my hips and use his to pull him into me, the final straw that breaks the whimper into a moan.
“What’s wrong, Mikes? Is this you not liking it?” I whisper into his ear, my hot breath tickling his face as it glows like a ruby in the moonlight. “What about this? How much do you not like this?”
I cut off his desperate beg for reprieve by crashing my lips to his, turning the boy to honey in my arms and making him melt into me. The two of us, joined from thighs to nose, embracing each other as though it’s the last time I’ll ever kiss him like this. With teeth pinching at his lips and tongue wreaking havoc inside his mouth. It’s rough, as are my hands in the way they’re running around his back, but it’s a loving kind of rough; the kind that makes Mikey all hot and sweaty and hungry for something that only I can give him. Something that I really wouldn’t mind him feasting on right now.
At that thought, my hips involuntarily grind harshly against his own, earning me another moan of guilty pleasure from his gasping mouth. That’s what I love about Mikey; he’s not all that easy. You have to make him want it before he’ll give it to you. Maybe he wouldn’t be like that if I wasn’t his big brother, but that’s okay. The getting him to want it part is what makes it all the more appealing. I like a challenge to get my teeth into. Literally.
“What’s that, baby brother?” I ask indignantly, smirking at him as I pull my mouth from his and run a hand through his sandy mop of silk.
He sighs, trying his best to hide the beam that I can see fast infecting his features. I don’t know why he’s trying to hide it; he’s even cuter when he smiles. Like everything is right in the world because he’s happy. Then again, he looks really fucking cute doing pretty much anything. Especially fucking. That look he gets when he’s close, eyes scrunched and teeth biting down on his lip; like a wild animal, begging me to set him free. That’s fucking cute. Cute fucking.
“We can’t keep doing this, Gerard.” He swallows, fixing me with a stern stare full of the authority that he always takes on when he’s trying to be the sensible one. But he doesn’t do anything to stop me when I thread my hands into the back pockets of his too-tight skinny jeans. “It’s wrong. It’s incest. It’s wrong.”
He sounds like a broken record trying to convince itself to stop playing. To stop doing what is natural for him to do. For us to do together. I can’t lose this. It’s the one thing that’s kept me sane these past two years, knowing that I have my brother here to love me and find me beautiful no matter what happens. I can’t lose it. I can’t lose him.
He’s my everything. My entire fucking world.
Good thing he’s not going anywhere. I know he won’t; he never does. He’s always trying to come up with reasons for us to not be together and I always manage to smash his argument to pieces. It’s kinda like trying to convince yourself to go on diet. A great idea that you know you should probably follow through with, but the second you see a luxurious dessert of some kind you just give in. That’s what this is; him trying to do what’s right, but my offer of sumptuous indulgence forcing him away from the moral high ground. I mean, who wants a dish of over-cooked broccoli when you can have the most decadent sundae in existence?
“You enjoy it though, Mikes. I’m not stupid; I know the nights we spend together are the best you’ve ever had.” I pause and tilt my head so my lips are pressed against his ear. “The best you’ll ever have. I know I’m good, Baby, don’t act like I’m not.”
He gulps, recognizing the tone in my voice and what it means; I’ve won.
“Now stop being stupid and be a good little boy. Got me?”
He nods, our cheeks rubbing together urgently, like a match striking to ignite on the side of the pack. I guess we are kind of like matches; I ignite him, make him feel good and in return he shows me just how special I can be. How special we both are when we’re together.
“Stupid little boys need teaching, don’t they, Baby?”
Another series of nods and I can feel his heart beating hard against his chest. And that’s not the only hard thing I can feel.
Because, just like always, I’ve won.
A/N: I don’t really like this, but I was in the mood for writing a Waycest and this happened. I hope it’s alright and please let me know what you think! :)