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You don’t like giving Caleb the cold shoulder. Caleb doesn’t like it either, and that’s why it typically lasts no longer than five minutes before his strong fingers are tugging at your cheeks, flushed and round with your laughter. But as you watch Caleb laughing with your colleagues, you wonder how efficient ignoring him can really be when you’re the one being ignored. Caleb turns from his conversation then, laughing and still panting from the frisbee game and his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his eyes seeking out yours immediately. Opening his mouth to call for you, he looks so sweet for a moment that you feel guilty for even being angry with him. That is until, your colleagues voice draws Caleb’s attention back.
“Ge, we’re thinking of watching a movie. You coming?”
The nickname makes your eye twitch. Caleb doesn’t even watch movies, you want to tell him, not unless I pick them out for us to watch. You bite your tongue, your frown deepening. None of you even know him, you want to yell, none of you have ever seen him flushed with sickness like I have, haven’t seen him weary and defeated in his colonel uniform like I have, haven’t had him almost crush your wrists between his fingers while he tells you he’s not your brother like I have. The last memory makes your frown turn more sad than angry.
“Sure,” Caleb smiles so brightly that you understand why they all flock around him, jumping up his legs like stray puppies. “Just let me speak to my cousin,” he adds, stumbling awkwardly on the title you’d used to introduce him.
He turns to where you stand then, standing arm-crossed and sour-faced beneath the shade of a tree, and jogs over still smiling.
“Hey, Pips,” he braces his hands on his knees while he catches his breath, shaking dark hair from his eyes like a dog, “You okay? Why are you standing here by yourself?”
“Too warm.” You reply shortly. It makes Caleb draw himself upright, smile fading and confusion knitted in his brows.
“Yeah? Want me to get you something cold to drink?” His voice is soft as his large hand comes down on top of your head, his thumb stroking your brow. He is not as at ease as he seems however, his brows still furrowed and his eyes roving across your face as if scoping your reaction.
“No, I’m going to get some with Tara and Simone. You shouldn’t keep them waiting. Go watch the movie,” you dip your head in the direction of your colleagues who have been at Caleb’s heels all day, unable to hide the bitterness in your voice and the crease between his brows only deepens.
“You’re not coming to watch the movie? I’ll come with you then,” he tells you, picking up your purse from where it sits at your feet.
“No, it’s fine. We are going to do girl things. We can’t speak freely if you’re there. I’ll just see you after,” you tell him as you take your purse from his hands.
He pulls his hand back as though stung, and it tugs on your heart enough that you force a smile before adding quickly, “I’ll be fine. I will come and find you later, when you’re free.”
This seems to put him at ease, his shoulders falling slightly, “You will?”
You nod, smiling.
“Okay,” a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, twin to your own, but you don’t miss his eyes dipping to your chest. He adds too innocently, “You’re going to the store like this?”
As he speaks, his fingers reach out for the thin straps of your tank top, lifting them from the sticky sheen of your sweaty skin and tugging them up, bringing the top further up your chest to cover your cleavage. His fingertips are too warm on your already sweaty skin. A shaky breath, barely audible, escapes his lips when he feels the heaviness of your breasts held up by the small straps, watching them bounce slightly as he lets go. You are never sure what to make of Caleb when he does these things. Overprotective older brother? Jealous boyfriend? The two of you danced a line so thin you often could not see where your Gege ends and Caleb began. It was all too confusing. After Caleb told you he was tired of being your brother, you had ceased to call him that at all. You would say you felt you were missing something, but the truth was while you had dropped the label, he still was your older brother. He fussed over you, teased you and lectured you like he still was. When he behaved like this, it confused you all over again. It didn’t feel fair that Caleb was tired of being your big brother, yet now you watch him be everyone else’s.
“Caleb!” You scold, swatting his hands away from your chest and trying to spin him around toward your waiting colleagues, snapping him from his daze, “Go away now, before I decide I want to go swimming and wear my favorite red bikini.”
He holds his hands up in surrender and laughs as he lets you push him away, “Okay, Pips, Okay.”
You watch him leave under the arms of two of your coworkers, the weight of jealousy in your abdomen making you feel sick. You turn away before he can think to come back for you.
⊰═══════════════════⊱
You’d lied. You never did go to find Caleb, your anger marinating in the time you were away from him. When you’d gotten back to the campsite, there was still no sign of him. You contemplate kicking his tent over as you stomp past it, remembering how he’d set up the tents earlier that day while everyone cheered him on. Smothering the urge, you climb into your own tent, laying down with a huff to stare at the blank ceiling. You had been avoiding Caleb, ignoring him and sometimes even been cruel to him, and yet your heart feels heavy beneath your ribs when you think of how he never came looking for you. Were you being too harsh? No. He was harsh first, you tell yourself. You turn over, eyes stinging with unshed tears. You loved Caleb so terribly you sometimes felt sick. He had always only been yours, there were never best friends or girlfriends, there was always only you. You did not understand what he was to you now. Your older brother Caleb was familiar, simple. Though you had slept with him a handful of times now, you weren’t sure he was quite your boyfriend, hence your stupid split-second decision to introduce him as your cousin. Even if he was your boyfriend, it feels unstable, flimsy, less than older brother. You felt lost in this peculiar state of limbo, terrified of Caleb slipping between your fingers, but having him close often being just as painful.
Laughter in the distance startles you from your thoughts, one laugh in particular standing apart from the rest- you would know it anywhere. Caleb. Stupidly, you are suddenly hopeful he will whisper your name from outside your tent, slip in silently and hold you in his strong arms, tucking your head into his neck. He isn’t going to, unsurprisingly, you realize as the laughter and footsteps fade following hearty farewells. He could hardly slip into your tent in front of your colleagues, but the realization stings all the same.
It is only when your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing evens out that you hear footsteps around your tent. Too tired now to care, you let your eyes close.
“Pips?” You hear Caleb’s voice whisper from outside the flap of your tent.
“Mm?” You murmur tiredly.
“Can I come in?”
“M’no.”
Despite your protests, you hear the zipper to your tent being carefully pulled down. You only turn over when you hear it zipped shut. You squint through the darkness to see Caleb beside you in your tent, hair messy and skin slightly wet with sweat from the hot summer night. Shyly, you avert your eyes and make room for him beside you.
“Why not?” he asks in a whisper, positioning his body beside you as he lays down.
The two of you lay on your sides facing each other and there is no air between you but the breath you share. It reminds you of your younger years when you would pad across the wooden floor of the hall, bare foot and frightened, before crawling into Caleb’s bed and into his open arms. Grandma eventually had implied at the time that you were too old for it, and implicitly asked you both to stop. You didn’t, of course, but just learned to be discreet.
“Why didn’t you come back for me?” You whisper, ignoring his question. The privacy of the darkness has left you feeling emboldened, though he is so close that his eyelids flutter under your breath.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he hushes as he brings his hand to rest on your jaw, fingers stroking along your ears as he explains quietly, as one would in order to placate a child, “I came back after the movie for you, but you weren’t here so I thought you were still with your friends. I didn’t want to intrude. You didn’t have many of your own friends before, other than me. I’m glad you have your own now, and I didn’t want to intrude. So we went to get food.”
You nod, somewhat satisfied with his response.
“Did you eat?” He asks, and you shake your head. He tuts, continuing with a grin as he reaches his hand behind his back, and he muses darkly: “Maybe I need to start tying you down to force feed you. I was gone for so long, how did you get by without me?”
You both have an unspoken agreement to not mention Caleb’s disappearance. It hangs heavy in the air between the two of you, ignored and festering, and you can tell he regrets his words the instant they leave his mouth when his movements falter slightly.
You decide not to make it easier for him, replying simply, “I didn’t.”
He looks agonized for a moment, but you wonder if it was only your imagination when his expression evens out, holding out what seems to be a box of take-out, “Good thing I’m here now then, hm? Be good and eat, or you’ll make me sad.”
You wonder if he thinks you stupid enough to fall for it, the memories of the day still weighing heavily in your mind. But maybe you are stupid enough, because you feel your resolve weaken.
“What is it?” You ask, embarrassed when you feel your heart weigh a little lighter.
“Chicken thighs.”
“Don’t like to eat it from the bone.”
“I know. I’m sorry. The stock was low. I’ll pick it off for you,” he answers.
“I’m too tired to eat.”
“I’ll feed it to you,” he says as though it were a given, “Anything else?”
You pause to consider, then shake your head and he smiles almost triumphantly. He props himself up then on an elbow, and you suddenly wish desperately that you could see his movements in the dark. You see the vague shape of his hands, and you imagine his thick fingers digging messily into the meat. Your stomach flips.
“Open,” he tells you, voice low and hushed. You do as he says, eyes never leaving his, opening your mouth obediently. He brings the meat to your mouth and presses it down on your tongue. His finger lingers on the muscle a beat too long. When he pulls his finger back, he brings it to his mouth, licking the mix of sauce and saliva from his fingers. Arousal pools low in your belly.
“Ah, maybe I do coddle you too much,” he hums quietly to himself as he brings another piece of food to your mouth, “Do you think?”
You shake your head, swallowing before closing your lips around the tips of his fingers and running your tongue over them, earning you a shaky exhale. The noise makes you rub your thighs together.
“No?” he looks almost dizzy now, brows knitted, and eyes fixed on his fingers sunk into your mouth as he pushes them deeper. You wonder if he is speaking to you, or just aloud when he continues, “Your coworkers think I do. But they don’t understand. How can I not baby you? My meimei…”
His words quickly snap you out of your stupor and his fingers leave your mouth with a pop. Meimei? But he said he didn’t want to be your brother anymore? He died, broke your heart, then destroyed the only consistent thing you’ve ever had in your life: your older brother.
“You said you didn’t want to be my brother anymore,” you breathe incredulously, still feeling dazed from the feeling of his thick fingers pushed deep into your mouth. You run his words back in your head, your voice rising with your frustration, “You said you were never my brother, and now I watch you run around all day and play everyone else’s big brother and-“
He shushes you before you can speak louder, gently but firmly, running an urgent hand over your hair when he watches your eyes well up with tears, “No, baby, I didn’t mean-“ he runs a hand over his face, looking almost guilty before continuing, “Big brothers don’t do the things I do to you.”
“So what? You can still-“
“But,” he interrupts before you upset yourself more, skimming gentle fingers along your wet cheeks, “I will always be your big brother. Only yours. I want to be everything to you. I want you to only need me, no one else. I want to do everything you want me to. Be everything.”
Realising your mouth is agape, you close your mouth as you process his words. You sniffle, “Really? Then why have you ignored me all day?”
“I think you were ignoring me,” he laughs at you, and you avert your eyes guiltily.
His words still please you however, and your fingers tangle in the collar of his shirt.
“I don’t want to share you anymore,” you whisper, tugging him closer so that he is leaning over you, and he is forced to brace himself on an elbow beside your head. Now he is closer, you can see his face properly in the darkness of the tent. His pupils are blown wide and he is flushed to his ears.
He nods, eyes set on your lips, “Only yours.”
Before you can reply, he instantly closes the gap between you. His lips collide messily with your own, wet tongue licking into your mouth and you whine. He kisses you harder. He tastes like beer and tobacco, and if Caleb’s lips weren’t pressing over your mouth, you might have asked him why he had been smoking.
“Missed you,” you whimper into his mouth between hard kisses, struggling to get your words out against the assault of his tongue against yours, “Missed-“ kiss “you so-“ kiss “much!”
“Missed you too, baby,” he pants against your lips, positioning himself on top of you, letting out a hiss between his teeth when he feels his erection press against your clothed cunt. Your wetness seeps through the thin layer of your sleep shorts, dampening his own clothes and he laughs quietly in disbelief, “You’re this wet from having my fingers stuffed in your mouth?”
“Shut up, Cay-“ you gasp when you feel him grind against you, hips immediately bucking up to meet his.
“I’m sorry. Don’t be embarrassed. Only wanna make you feel good,” his low voice murmurs into your mouth, rutting against you in slow motions.
A shiver racks through you, legs locking behind his back to pull him closer. The day has been so long, watching Caleb shirtless and sweaty, pleasing everyone but you, that you cannot help your desperation as soon as he has you like this, “Faster,” you gasp out.
He shakes his head, pushing closer into you when he wraps an arm around your back, the other cradling the back of your head and tangling his fingers through your hair. In this position, he holds you exactly where he wants you, keeping you still against his cock. Despite pausing, his body shakes with restraint, and you can feel him throb against your core.
Your hands come down to his hips to tangle in his belt loops for leverage as you try to make him move. He only laughs breathlessly, dropping his head to nuzzle into your neck.
“You gonna be quiet?” he whispers huskily into your ear, nibbling your earlobe. You stifle a gasp, nodding stupidly and he hums, “I’m not sure I believe you. I don’t know what your coworkers would make of your cousin, holding you squirming against his cock in your tent in the middle of the night.”
You bite your lip, fighting back a moan at his words, but it comes out a broken hum instead. You don’t know how Caleb says things like this to you. When you look at him in the day, all sweet smiles and childish nicknames, your head spins trying to reconcile it with your night-time memories. He raises his head to give you a warning look at the suppressed moan you almost let escape. You try to buck your hips, seeking friction but he only holds you closer, ceasing your movements.
“Please, Caleb. I’ll be so quiet. Promise,” you babble into his ear, his hand stroking your head soothingly, feeling mocking above all else. You wrap your arms around his neck tightly to whisper in his ear, “Need my gege to take care of me.”
“Yeah? Need Gege to make you feel better?” He asks sweetly, hips moving against yours again.
You throw your head back in pleasure, but before you can break your promise, his palm comes up to your mouth, muffling your sounds. The sight of his large hand dwarfing your face makes his cock harden unbearably, and his steady rhythm stutters. You look up at him apologetically, guilty that you almost broke your promise so quickly. The look on your face only fuels his arousal, picking up the assault of his hips against your own. You feel sticky where your bodies touch, and the stretch of your legs wrapping around his waist begins to ache, but all you can think is the pleasure building in your stomach. Your head nods up and down with each hard thrust of his hips and you dig your fingers into his shoulders in a futile attempt to ground yourself. He feels your whimpers against his mouth, reveling in the guilty look on your face for being so loud.
“It’s okay, baby,” he reassures breathlessly, nodding as his voice borders patronizing. You’re already too far gone to care, the restraint you’ve shown all day worn thin, “I know, it just feels so good. Don’t worry. Gege’s not angry with you– God, it’s been killing me all day, watching you walk around with your small shorts with your tits fucking spilling out your shirt. Was so close to just pushing you against that tree and fucking you stupid in front of everyone – fuck!”
You gasp at the crudeness of his words as he moves his hand from your mouth to brace on top of your head, gripping your hair tightly from the roots. He was rambling into your ear already, little words of praise that had you clenching around nothing. You let out a short whine of pain and pleasure at the feeling of his fingers tugging at your scalp, quickly moving to bite his shoulder to keep quiet. A closed-mouth groan slips from him.
“Wish you did,” you gasp. His grip tightens on your scalp.
“God, Pips-“ his tip catches on your soaked entrance, and he actually whimpers. Despite yourself, you let out a small delirious giggle, desperate to hear it again.
Caleb had fucked you before, but never anything like this. This side of your relationship was so new, it had taken everything in him to exercise restraint, to take you gently, to make you feel safe. He had no regrets, but this was something else. He had held himself back for years, this was nothing new to him, but today had been a new kind of torture. To have you before him, cleavage damp with perspiration, turning from him in your frustration only to be met with your denim shorts hugging your figure- it was all too much. To have you cling to his arm, forbidden from touching you other than how family should. He hadn’t planned to end the night this way, finishing just from rutting against you like a teenage boy, but the long day only fed his desperation. From the way your hips were rutting wildly back against his cock, using him to chase your own release, he could tell you had been feeling just as frustrated as him.
“Fuck- inside!” you gasp out, clinging to him for dear life, rocking violently with the strengths of his thrusts as though he were inside already.
To your dismay, he only shakes his head, “Can’t-“ he manages, “haven’t got a condom.”
You can tell your desperate request had an effect on him though when you look at him then, hair fallen over one eye and a vein bulging from his forehead. But before you can protest, he tugs your shirt up to your neck, hungrily watching your tits spill out. Before you can register the movement, you feel his wet mouth close over your hardened nipples, and you throw your head back with a loud moan. His hand clamps over your mouth again as he continues his messy assault on your breasts.
“And you’ll be too loud,” he mumbles against your cleavage, continuing his answer to your previous question.
“Caleb,” you try to call out in a whine, though the shape of your words is muffled by the weight of his palm on your mouth, but you beg anyway, “want you to kiss me!”
Somehow, your words reach Caleb, and he pulls himself off your tit with a pop! You aren’t sure how he worked out what you wanted – maybe sibling intuition, you think – but you stick out your tongue messily and he quickly wraps his lips around it, sucking with the rhythm of his hips against your core. Your sleep shorts are uncomfortably wet now, sticking to your cunt, but you struggle to think of anything other than Caleb’s hard cock pushing against you desperately, panting like a dog against your open mouth.
“Tell me,” he whispers shakily, wrapping a hand around your jaw to force your unfocused gaze onto him.
“What?” You ask, putting all your effort into keeping your eyes open on his.
“That you need me,” he all but slurs, drunk on the feeling of having you like this, flushed and desperate and stupid below him, “tell me you’ll only ever need me. No one else. That you know I’ll take care of you-“
He was rambling now, turned needy from having you clinging to him and whimpering sweetly into his ear. You can never deny him, your Caleb, your protector, your brother. You forget the tears of anger, shame and hurt shed because of him, now desperate for him to know what he is to you.
“Always gonna need you, Caleb!” your voice comes out choppy against his frantic rutting, only spurred on by your words, “It’s only you. No one knows you like me… Always gonna need my Gege, want you to feel good and use me to cum- fuck- love you so bad!”
He quickly covers your mouth with his own. It can hardly be called kissing, what he’s doing, all tongue and spit and teeth. You don’t mind, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him somehow even closer.
“Not gonna last much longer-“ he manages, forehead pressed against yours as he grips at your tits roughly in a poor attempt to ground himself, “You close?” you nod your head fervently, and he grunts out, “Need you to cum first. Hold onto me.”
The sudden move makes your head spin as he sits up on his knees, tugging your body up with him and your hands quickly fly out to cling to his shoulders. Settled on his knees, cock still hard against your core, you struggle to pull yourself any closer to him.
“Make yourself cum,” he mutters, strained and already gripping your hips and guiding your movements, “Don’t have to do it by yourself. Gege’ll help you.”
His words only serve as fuel for the tightening coil in your stomach, and your hips move more frantically as you push your chest up to his face in a silent request. He catches on immediately, latching on with a hard suck. You gasp when you feel his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs.
“Caleb,” you gasp, trying desperately to suppress your moans, “So close-“
He nods against your chest, whispering hotly against your flushed skin, all but cooing to you now, “I know, I know. Try and keep quiet, okay? My meimei, only mine… “
He looks up at you then, mouth slobbering messily against your chest and eyes wide and adoring. It frightens you so deeply for a moment- having Caleb this way, ready to do anything you ask and anything you won’t ask for. It shouldn’t be fair, holding this kind of sway over another person. For a long time, the thought never crossed your mind. Caleb was not even another person, but moreso an extension of yourself. But he was separate from you, you learned when he died, and he loved you so much that he never came back for you, thinking you better off without him. The thought and the feeling of having Caleb against you makes tears well up in your eyes, and you hold him tighter. When Caleb sees your mind straying, he smiles up at you then. Lovely, warm and a little sad, and your climax washes over you, racking through your body. Caleb pushes his mouth against yours in a futile attempt to muffle your noises as your body shakes in his arms. He moves against you slowly, letting you ride out your high.
“Why are you crying?” he asks sweetly, fingertips dancing over your wet cheeks before pressing his soft lips to your cheek bones.
You shake your head, answering him quietly, “Nothing. Just love you,”
Caleb lets out a surprised laugh at your answer, beginning to rock against you again. You gasp, dropping your head to rest in the crook of his neck.
“Always such a crybaby,” he sighs, but he cannot hide the desperation in his words as he clings to you now, moving you faster against him.
“Do you like seeing me cry?”
He shakes his head, but the movement comes a beat too late as he hides his face in your chest, afraid you might read the answer in his eyes. You laugh, pulling him back gently by his hair and the movement forces a groan from his mouth, baring his throat and bringing his eyes to yours.
“Are you lying, Gege?” you ask him sweetly, and your honeyed voice has him gripping your hips so harshly you think he will leave welts the shape of his fingernails in your skin. When he doesn’t reply, you give his hair a light tug.
“Yes!” He gasps out, movements now frantic and frenzied, and you pray no one decides to leave their tent now, because there would be no way to hide the quick rocking of the tent. Caleb continues in a stream of pleas, “I’m sorry. I do. Only sometimes – God – stay still, just let me-“
Sensing him about to reach his climax, you decide to take him by surprise, your hands tangled in his hair and unrelenting when you tell him sadly through your own gasps, “I want you to tell me you’re sorry.”
“What?”
“Tell me that you’re sorry, for what you did to me. Leaving me, coming back different, locking me away,” your words come out a broken whisper, almost sobbing from the overstimulation and the unwanted memories.
“I’m sorry!” his voice is muffled in your neck, and his hand comes up to cup the back of your head tenderly, at odds with his quick, frenzied movements. He continues, his impending climax making him more agreeable, “I’m so sorry. I love you. I love you so much. Forgive me, please. I’m so scared for you sometimes. I’m sorry.”
“I love you, Caleb.”
He cums against you then, hard and messy, with a choked sob against your hair. Wetness seeps between the non-existent gap between your bodies. You stroke his damp hair, trying to slow the ragged breathing tumbling from his lips. He lays you both back down onto the messy blankets, long fingers still tangled in your hair. He pulls your top down back over your exposed breasts, and you can’t help but smile at him.
He answers your smile with a quick kiss, and you murmur against his lips, “I would love you even if you weren’t sorry.”
“I know. And it scares me.”
Before you can ask him why, you hear the sound of footsteps and voices growing nearer your tent.
“I swear, man, I heard something over here!” You hear your coworkers voice, muffled slightly by the walls of the tent.
“I don’t hear anything…” you hear an answering voice.
You look at Caleb, suddenly cringing in embarrassment and scrunching your face. Caleb, unfazed, only shakes with silent laughter as he pulls you closer to him, whispering so cute against your cheek. The quiet sound of your hushed laughter dancing together dissipates some of the tension left in the air from the sad reality of your earlier words. It was easy to fall back into normalcy with Caleb, the familiarity of his presence making you feel warm all over as you run a finger along his parted lips.
“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper to him.
“Anything,”
“I think I am spoiled,” you tell him defeatedly.
Through the darkness, you see him smile before answering, “It’s my job to spoil you. Can I tell you a secret?” when you nod, he continues: “The take-out did have boneless chicken.”
“What?” you laugh, mind reeling for a moment as you try to understand. Before you can, he is on top of you again, tugging at your shorts impatiently.
“Can I spoil you a little more?”