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When Bill wakes up on Georgie’s fifteen birthday, his first thought is I’m never coming back from this.
It’s probably a pointless sentiment. The point of no return isn’t today, and it wasn’t yesterday or the day before. It was the first time he didn’t run when he woke up with thirteen-year-old Georgie there, both of them hard in their boxers, neither saying a word. Or maybe it was the first time he let Georgie watch him jerking off, his eyes shut, terrified of opening them and coming from the look on Georgie’s face. Or the first time he helped Georgie, his larger hand overlapping the smaller hand on Georgie’s dick, seeing what his little brother’s face looked like when he came. Or the first time he took Georgie into his mouth for the thirty seconds the blowjob took, or the first time Georgie dropped to his knees in front of Bill and swallowed him down, looking up with those baby blues, asking am I doing it right, Billy?
The point is — today he’s going to fuck Georgie for the first time, but the path started a long time ago. And at this point, they’ve done everything but the real thing. He’s fingered Georgie open, swallowing down his cock at the same time, the feeling of Georgie clenching around his fingers painfully arousing. He’s jerked off over Georgie’s ass and, in a post-orgasm haze, pressed some of his own come inside Georgie’s hole. This final step is just the logical conclusion.
Georgie’s not in his bed this morning. His nightmares have slowed down since they started… whatever this was, a year or so ago (more than a year — late at night, he remembers that. Two months before Georgie turned fourteen. It makes him sick, makes him wonder what that means about him, what kind of brother he is that he would do that—) and, by Bill’s insistence, he’s moved mostly back into his own room. Mostly because their parents have been worried about their codependency for years, and at this point, Bill doesn’t want their parents to worry or wonder at all. He’s not sure he could stand the look in their eyes if they found out.
He misses it, though. He still reaches for the other side of the bed on instinct, feeling for the warmth of Georgie’s body, and has to remind himself that Georgie is safe. He’s just not here.
(Some deep part of his brain is entirely convinced that Georgie can’t be safe without him, that he should never take his eyes away. He tries to keep that part of his brain quiet. With varying levels of success.)
Georgie is in the kitchen when he gets downstairs, grinning that still-gap tooth smile, and he gives him a one-armed hug before sitting down next to him. Their knees touch, and under the table, Bill brushes his fingers across the inside of Georgie’s thigh. Higher, and higher—
“Who wants pancakes?” Mom says, and Georgie spreads his thighs, releasing Bill’s hand. Bill grabs for a plate.
He wants to kiss Georgie so badly that he aches for it, right here in the sunny kitchen with syrup on their lips. The fact that he can’t, that displays of how much he loves Georgie are confined to their bedrooms and the back of his car parked somewhere in the dark, is agonizing.
The birthday breakfast is a totally normal length, and it feels like an eternity. As soon as Mom has cleared the plates and Georgie has opened his last present, Bill makes his way upstairs, and waits in his room, the door open.
Thirty seconds later, Georgie comes in, closes the door, and kisses him.
His mouth still tastes like pancakes. He’s almost as tall as Bill, now, and Bill only has to duck his head a little to kiss him. Their bodies fit together, experienced from countless secret kisses.
Bill pushes Georgie down on the bed. Georgie’s hands knot in his hair and pull him close, and they stay there for as long as it feels safe. Normally he wouldn’t, not in broad daylight with their parents downstairs, but he can’t help himself.
“Happy birthday,” he whispers into Georgie’s mouth when Georgie pulls away for a breath. Georgie smiles and kisses him one more time before pulling away.
*
Bill’s still not sure how he managed it, but a couple weeks ago, he convinced his parents that he should take Georgie out for his birthday night. He’d promised them their own alone time, and said he would take Georgie out for dinner in Bangor and stop at a motel on the way back.
It doesn’t sound convincing even to him, but somehow it worked, and now he’s on his way to Bangor as the sun goes down, Georgie in the passenger seat. They’re holding hands, Georgie’s thumb rubbing slow circles on the back of Bill’s hand as he flips through radio stations.
When Bill glances over at him, he’s so happy that he thinks his heart might burst.
Bill reserved a table at the nicest restaurant he could afford along with a motel room, a steak-and-lobster place. The meal itself is nice, but as Georgie eats, Bill can’t stop looking at him and thinking, I’m about to take his virginity . He knows Georgie wants it, that they both want it more than breathing, but he can’t stop the anxiety clawing at his stomach, that he’s finally taking a step that he can’t come back from.
Georgie notices his discomfort when he’s half done and Bill has barely touched his plate, and kicks Bill under the table, gently. “Eat,” he says, and it’s so entirely non-threatening that Bill finds himself smiling against his will. He cuts off a piece of steak and takes a bite.
After dinner, Georgie pushes him against the car door and kisses him again. Neither of them can keep their hands off each other, even in the dark corner of the parking lot.
Bill pushes him gently away when he sees another car pulling into the lot. “C’mon, the motel’s not far,” he says, and Georgie grins. He steals one last kiss before going around to the passenger side and getting in.
As Georgie buckles his seatbelt, Bill looks over at him, and thinks, this is it .
*
Georgie won’t stop squirming as Bill pushes his first finger inside. He’s flushed, the colour going down his neck and across his chest, and he looks so goddamn pretty that Bill wants nothing more than to take him apart.
“Fuck, Billy,” he gasps, clenching around Bill’s finger. “More, please, I can take it, please—”
“Yeah, Georgie,” he says, sliding in a second finger. “I know you can, baby, I know you’re good.” He can’t stop the endearments from slipping out when he’s looking at Georgie like this. Normally Georgie protests, and normally he feels a little bad, but they’re both too turned on right now to care.
“Fuck.” Georgie bites down on his lip and squirms again, fucking himself down on Bill’s fingers. He’s so tight and Bill is losing his mind already imagining fucking him. It’ll take a miracle if he keeps himself from coming in under thirty seconds. “More, Billy—”
Third finger, and Georgie whines, so loud that Bill instinctively flinches. But there’s no one around them, just this shitty motel room. No one cares. They can be as loud as they want. They can go over and over. It’s dizzying, the possibilities that have seemed unfathomable.
When Georgie feels ready, he pulls his fingers out, and watches, fascinated, as Georgie clenches around nothing, his stretched rim begging to be filled. Bill is already hard enough to pound nails, and he wastes no time slicking up his cock and pressing the head against Georgie’s hole. He leans over him and kisses him, and Georgie grabs his forearms, his nails digging in.
“Fuck me,” Georgie says, and nothing on earth could stop Bill from obeying that. He pushes the head of his cock inside.
Georgie’s eyes roll back in his head, and Bill has to bite his lip to keep from gasping. It’s hot and slick and Georgie is clenching down, making it so goddamn tight for him. He pushes in another inch, and another, and Georgie’s legs lift to wrap around his back, pulling him in.
Going this slow is painful, but it’s worth it when he bottoms out, completely enveloped inside his brother. Georgie cries out, heels digging into Bill’s back, as Bill stays in place. Keeping him full. “Fuck, fuck,” Georgie gasps, and opens his eyes wide to look up at Bill. He darts up to kiss Bill’s open mouth, hard and almost painful. “Please move, Billy,” he says, and Bill does.
He starts out slow, rocking in and out, staying deep inside. He doesn’t want to leave yet; this is the best feeling he’s ever had. But Georgie squirms a little, impatient, and he gives him what he wants. Deeper and faster, fucking into him, until the bed is creaking and Georgie is gasping with every thrust. Bill adjusts his stance, hiking Georgie’s legs up around his ears, and the angle is better, hitting that spot inside Georgie every time.
He’s known for a while that Georgie is vocal during sex, and it’s made their clandestine moments together a little more difficult a few times, but the gasps and swears from before have nothing on this. Georgie is almost wailing, gripping Bill’s forearms so hard that Bill’s sure he’ll have hand-shaped bruises. But he can’t even feel the pain; he’s lost in the expression on Georgie’s face, the flush and the tears leaking out of his eyes as he cries out with every thrust. Bill goes harder and faster until Georgie is fully crying, and begging him for more.
“Please, Billy, please, please—” Georgie begs, and Bill buries himself inside his little brother and comes so hard that he truly sees stars. He’s never done that before.
When he opens his eyes, he’s just in time to see Georgie grab his own cock and pump once, twice, and come as well, clenching painfully around Bill’s softening cock. Bill leans in to kiss him through it and tastes salt on Georgie’s lips.
He stays there, on top of Georgie, until Georgie pokes him in the ribs as a cue to get off. Bill pulls out, both of them wincing at the feeling, and lies down next to Georgie.
“Thank you,” Georgie says after a moment. “I know you felt like — like you shouldn’t do this, or that you were doing something bad to me, but I really wanted it. And I loved it.”
Instead of responding through the growing lump in his throat, Bill reaches for Georgie’s hand, and squeezes it. Georgie squeezes back.