Summers in Japan were hot and humid. The shadows stretched across Natsuo's room as the sun set in the window beside his bed. Open just a crack, a cool evening breeze cooled Touya's sweltering skin just enough. The monotony of evening cicadas filled the otherwise silent room.
Touya always overheated, even if he stayed inside the house. His quirk often overworking, like a hot engine running without a fan. One of the many reasons why the old man quit training him for greatness before he was a teen.
Now, he lurks at home. Too much of a coward to be willing to show his face in public. Too ashamed of the way people's faces contort into pity for the Number One Hero's prodigy-turned-failure. His body holds the tall tale signs of degeneration and deficiency.
He lays sprawled across his little brother's bed. The water running from the shower suddenly stops. A few minutes pass and Natsuo walks into his room with just a towel wrapped around his hips. Touya watches as the water droplets descend down his torso and leave a small pool of wetness in the recess of his belly button. His body was in that awkward teenage phase, where his limbs look too lanky and the muscle hasn't quite yet matured. Hairless, for the most part. Pink in all the right places. The face of innocence and inexperience wrapped up neatly in a bow for him.
Natsuo pauses momentarily in the door, looking Touya up and down, lounging on his bed. His eyes catch along the contours of Touya's chest and abdomen. The sweat glistens in the waning sunlight of his room and the dark shadows obscure most of Touya's face. All but those glowing blue embers focused intently on him. His older brother wears a thin pair of boxers and doesn't do much for his modesty. A pink tint colors Natsuo's otherwise pale face.
Gray eyes widen as he realizes Touya rolls a peach in the palm of his hand. The very same one he had left on bedside table earlier that morning before he left for school. When he had woken up with thoughts of Touya infiltrating his mind.
Catching the surprise, Touya's eyebrow lifts in interest, "Little brother," his canines glint in the soft golden glow of the sunset, an expression more easily characterized as wolfish than amusem*nt. His thumb dips into the hollow dug into the side of the peach. It's tender meat bruised and the skin split in exactly the same places where a smaller hand would hold it. Crescent shapes stamped into the marred side of the peach, "Were you wondering what a mouth felt like around your little co*ck?"
Natsuo's lips form a thin line, "You're literally so disgusting. What are you even doing with that? You're so gross." So adamant in not showing Touya mercy in their little game. In the end, Touya always wins. His little brother just wants the attention their parents refuse to give him. How could Touya neglect his own sibling? His favorite one that was always there for him when the old man tossed him aside like trash in favor of the novel protogé, Shouto.
The boy practically stomps to the other side of the room, refusing to glance at Touya as he drops his towel. The linen pools around his ankles and Touya's gaze follows the slender line of the boy's ankles up to the divot behind his knees. A place where Touya would eventually place hundreds of kisses with hundreds of prayers and hundreds of promises of devotion and love.
The new suppleness of the boy's rump was a feast for Touya's eyes. How divinely he was growing into his body. Spirits, Touya wanted to consume him whole right where he stood. Show him all the pleasures the flesh was willing to grant him so long as he just trusted Touya to guide him through it.
A dribble of milky cum drips from the maimed peach onto Touya's chest just as Natsuo turns back around to face him. Probably to yell at him about getting out of his room. Instead, his mouth hangs open in silence when Touya swipes two fingers through the mess and wraps his lips around the length of them. His fingers reach the back of his throat while he suckles the tasty morsel from them. Touya noisily pops his fingers out of his mouth; saliva, and cum, and peach flesh mixing on his tongue to deliver a sweet and heady flavor. Natsuo hasn't even started putting deodorant on, but the taste of his salty, immature spend sits heavy at the back of Touya's tongue.
Natsuo's eyes widen with a familiar greed as he watches Touya bite into the soft meat of the peach in his hand. Sticky juice dribbles down Touya's chin and splatters onto his chest. He eats the molested fruit with hungry vigor. Groaning as he sucks out Natsuo's spend from the shallow hole.
"If I'm so disgusting, Natsu, why are you so hard?"
Splotchy patches decorate Natsuo's cheek, "You're such a freak!" the boy cries as he bends over to pick up the dropped towel. He covers himself with both hands and the cloth. A scowl that was so ironically familiar sharpens his soft features. Touya can tell you how exactly Natsuo takes after their mother versus the old man. The baby fat in his cheeks would soon slim down into the stern planes of their father. But his eyes, shining with eagerness would always remain the same.
Such a fine blend of the two.
Touya sits up in the bed and tosses the remains of the peach in a waste bin across the room. Turning to Natsuo, he reaches for his slender wrist, but misses as his younger brother twists out of his grasp. The touch unwanted when he's encroaching on something so private.
He pulls back, hands palms-up to showcase his surrender, "Look, Natsuo. It's perfectly normal." When Natsuo's glare softens slightly, Touya tentatively reaches forward. Palming Natsuo's slender hip, Touya guides him to sit on the bed next to him.
Natsuo manages to swallow the stone lodged in his throat without Touya noticing.
Or at least he thought so.
The last thing Touya wanted to do was lose Natsuo's trust. As an older brother, he felt it was his duty to keep promises to Natsuo. Keep him loved and safe. If helping him through the awkwardness of puberty would help Natsuo, well, it would be just another thing for Touya to give to Natsuo freely.
"I can show you, if you want, Natsu. I can show you how good it feels, hmm?" His voice a hushed whisper, despite it being late evening. Practically everyone at home was sleeping. Enji was on-call for night patrol this week.
Touya, encouraged by Natsuo's curiosity, hooks an index finger into the crook of Natsuo's palm of the hand clutching the towel to his naked body. Natsuo's breath hitches and Touya slowly peels the hesitant hand away.
The length of Natsuo's neck constricts as he swallows his initial wave of embarrassment and inexperience. He pulls the towel the rest of the way on his own.
There's a light dusting of white hair stretching up his navel, but it isn't thick with maturity yet. Touya fingers the soft baby hair, watching the way Natsuo's stomach shudders with a single, uneasy breath.
Vague outlines of muscles on his abdomen attract Touya's attention and he smirks. Natsuo's "what!" is indignant, swatting at Touya's caress, like he's ashamed to be witnessed so intimately. It's truly precious.
"Nothin'" Touya snatches his hand back, but returns his hand just as quickly when Natsuo makes no further attempt to obstruct his examination.
"Just admiring the way you look."
Natsuo's instant ruddy blush from chest to face was enough of a reward for the cheeky comment. He focuses past Touya's temple, as his voice wavers just a pinch, "Cut it out. Since when do you say sh*t like that? It's embarrassing." The furrow between his brows would one day grow to be as permanent as their father's. But for now, Natsuo's face is unblemished by the devastation of being a son of Todoroki Enji.
As Natsuo complains more, Touya's eyes shrink into half-moons. Touya knows everyone's secrets in this house. Natsuo's was the easiest to find out.
"Don't act like it wasn't my name you were moaning while you f*cked that peach this morning. I heard you." A calloused finger traces the line between his groin and upper thigh. Natsuo's lanky frame is wracked by a head-to-toe shiver. Despite his recalcitrant attitude, Natsuo spreads his legs apart, inviting Touya in.
Touya's fingers knead the flesh of Natsuo's upper thigh. He pulls breathy little whimpers from Natsuo, who's barely holding himself together.
Satisfied with his savoring (teasing), Touya kneels between Natsuo's spread legs. The tatami floor impresses its pattern into the skin of his knees as he admires Natsuo from this angle.
The skin was soft and supple with the peach fuzz of pubescence. It would be gone sooner rather than later though. It was time Touya enjoyed the blessing of youth granted to his brother before it disappeared forever. He was the only one who could both fawn over it as well as keep this moment in time safe.
Touya cups Natsuo's balls in his warm palm. A soft squeal of surprise from Natsuo makes Touya's fingers and toes tingle with excitement. Watching his brother's face contort into hesitant pleasure, he traces the seam up the sack and to the base of his little prick. Natsuo's whimper gets caught in the awkward voice-crack of puberty, the pitch going silent almost immediately. But he doesn't flinch away from Touya's probing.
The veins webbed across the delicate skin were blue and purple. Translucent, porcelain skin, just like the rest of their siblings. It was a slender little co*ck that would surely fill out with maturity. The tip just barely peeked out from the foreskin. Touya's mouth waters at such a pretty sight. It's f*ckin' enticing.
A gentle hand unsheathes the shiny, reddened head. In a jolt of intense pleasure, Natsuo's hands grab at Touya's, trying to resist the new, overwhelming sensation.
Natsuo's unwillingness was unconvincing.
Touya sticks the tip of his tongue out and watches Natsuo's face pinch into unfamiliar pleasure. A salty bead of precum escapes from the little slit at the tip. The droplet too viscous and weak in flavor. It hadn't been left to sit for damn near half the day inside an overripe peach.
"Not much fight left in ya now, is there?"
"Can you shut up, you're such--ahh--"
The squeal of insecurity dies in his throat, forming into a hushed groan as Touya wraps his lips around the flushed head. A tongue tip massages the slit, coaxing more of the tangy precum out. Hands frantically grasp at Touya's hair, begging him to keep going.
"Touya," he whispers frantically, barely able to contain the light jolts ricocheting him from head to toes, "Don't stop." The gentle tug on his hair turns to more desperate grasping, nails gouging into his scalp.
And f*ck, it feels great to be wanted so badly.
"Better than a peach, huh?"
"You're such a jerk!"
It doesn't take much before Natsuo's little balls contract in the warmth of Touya's hand. Simultaneously, he swallows the length, the head just barely hitting the back of Touya's throat.
Natsuo's whimpers sound so sweet as Touya wills himself not to gag on Natsuo's co*ck. He swallows the spurting spend with eagerness. The length throbs between the tight, wet heat of his tongue and the soft palette of his mouth.
As he lifts himself off Natsuo's already-softening prick, a sticky string of saliva stretches between his lips and Natsuo's brilliantly red head. He traces the underside of it with tender fingers as he lifts himself off the bed. The boy spasms from the overstimulation.
Touya readjusts his boxers as he looks down at Natsuo's limp frame laying across his bed. A dark wet spot stained the front of Touya's boxers, sticking to his skin and smelling of sulphur.
He can only hope Natsuo comes back to him for more.
"Sweet dreams, Natsuo."
