Work Text:
Martin was 18 when he realized he was a shitty brother.
Their father had left when Juhoon was six. Just walked out one night and never came back. Their mother followed three years later, trading her kids for a boyfriend who lived in another city. She called once a month, if that. She sent money sometimes, but it was never enough.
So Martin became the man of the house. At least, that was what the neighbors said. That was what the social workers said. That was what everyone said.
But Martin knew the truth.
He wasn't a man. He was a boy playing pretend.
Juhoon was twelve now. Quiet. He had his mother's eyes, big and brown and always wet, like he was about to cry. He never complained. He never asked for anything. He just existed, taking up space in the corner of the apartment.
Martin noticed him. He just didn't know what to do with him.
He tried at first, he made sure Juhoon went to school. He made sure there was food in the fridge. He made sure the lights stayed on. But he was tired. He worked a part-time job at a convenience store, and when he came home, he didn't want to be a parent. He wanted to be a teenager. He wanted to jerk off and play video games and forget that his life was a mess.
So that was what he did.
And Juhoon learned to take care of himself.
The apartment was small.
His room was a mess. Clothes on the floor. Empty soda cans on the desk. A laptop that was older than Juhoon, its screen cracked in the corner.
Juhoon's room was neat. He kept it clean because no one else would. His bed was made. His books were stacked. His clothes were folded.
They moved around each other like ghosts. Passing in the hallway. Eating at different times.
Martin didn't think about it. He didn't think about much.
He worked. He slept. He jerked off.
That was his life.
It started on a Thursday night.
Martin was in his room, the door locked, his laptop open on his bed. He had a bottle of lube in one hand and his cock in the other. He was watching a video of a woman, probably in her thirties.
He was close. His breathing was ragged, his hips thrusting into his fist. He was so close.
And then the door opened.
Juhoon stood in the doorway, his eyes wide. He had a glass of water in his hand. He had probably knocked, but Martin hadn't heard.
"Fuck," Martin hissed, scrambling to cover himself. "Get out!"
But Juhoon didn't move. He just stood there, staring at the screen. At the woman. At Martin's hand.
"Juhoon, get out!"
Juhoon looked at him. His face was blank, but his eyes were curious.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Nothing. Get out."
"Is that porn?"
Martin's face burned. He wanted to scream. He wanted to hit something. But instead, he just sat there, his cock still hard, his hand still wet with lube.
"Yeah," he said, his voice flat. "It's porn. Now get out."
Juhoon didn't get out.
He walked closer. He set the glass of water on Martin's desk. He sat on the edge of the bed.
"Can I watch?" he asked.
Martin stared at him.
"What?"
"Can I watch?"
Martin should have said no. He should have grabbed Juhoon by the arm and thrown him out of the room. He should have been a good brother.
But he wasn't a good brother.
He was tired. He was lonely. He was sick of being the one in charge.
"Fine," he said. "But don't tell anyone."
Juhoon nodded.
They watched the video together. Martin's hand was still on his cock, but he wasn't moving. He was just sitting there, his heart pounding, his mind racing.
Juhoon was watching the screen with an intensity that made Martin uncomfortable. His eyes were fixed on the woman.
"Do you like it?" Martin asked.
Juhoon nodded.
"Have you ever done that?"
"No."
"Do you want to?"
Juhoon looked at him. His eyes were dark, unreadable.
"I don't know."
Martin grabbed his hand and pulled it toward his cock.
"Then learn."
Juhoon's fingers were cold. They wrapped around Martin's cock, clumsy. Martin guided him, showing him how to move.
"Like this," Martin said. "Slow at first. Then faster."
Juhoon obeyed. His hand was small, but it was warm. Martin closed his eyes, letting himself feel it.
"Good," he whispered. "Keep going."
Juhoon kept going. He learned quickly.
When Martin came, he grabbed Juhoon's wrist and held it tight, his seed spilling over his brother's fingers.
Juhoon looked at his hand, at the white fluid covering his skin.
"Now lick it off." Martin said.
Juhoon hesitated. Then he brought his hand to his mouth and licked.
"Good." Martin said.
He pulled Juhoon closer and kissed his forehead.
"Don't tell anyone." he said again.
"I won't." Juhoon said.
The next morning, Martin woke up late. The sun was already high, the apartment hot and stuffy. He stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.
Juhoon was sitting at the table, eating cereal. He looked up when Martin walked in, but he didn't say anything.
Martin poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat across from him.
They ate in silence.
The only sound was the crunch of cereal and the hum of the fridge.
"School today?" Martin asked.
"Yes."
"Did you do your homework?"
"Yes."
Martin nodded. He didn't know what else to say.
He finished his cereal and put the bowl in the sink. He grabbed his keys and his wallet.
"I'm going to work," he said. "Don't stay up too late."
"Okay."
Martin paused at the door. He looked back at Juhoon, still sitting at the table, still eating his cereal.
He wanted to say something. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to tell him that last night was a mistake.
But he didn't.
He just left.
It became a routine.
Every night, Juhoon would come to Martin's room. They would watch porn together. Juhoon would touch him. Martin would touch him back.
It started small. A hand on his cock. A finger in his mouth. A kiss on the neck.
But it grew.
Martin taught Juhoon how to use his mouth, taught him how to take him deep, how to breathe through his nose, how to look up at him with those big brown eyes while he choked.
Juhoon learned fast. He was a good student.
"You like this, don't you?" Martin asked one night, his cock in Juhoon's mouth.
Juhoon nodded, his eyes watering.
"Say it."
"I like it." Juhoon said, his voice muffled.
"Say it again."
"I like it."
He just smiled.
Martin grabbed his hair and fucked his throat, hard and fast. Juhoon gagged, but he didn't pull away. He took all of it.
When Martin came, he held Juhoon's head down, forcing him to swallow.
"Now your turn."
Martin pushed Juhoon onto his back and pulled down his pants. Juhoon's cock was small, hard, leaking.
"Look at you," Martin said. "You're so hard. You like this, don't you?"
"Yes." Juhoon whispered.
Martin wrapped his hand around Juhoon's cock and stroked him, slow and deliberate. Juhoon whimpered, his hips bucking.
"Please…" he begged.
"Please what?"
"Please, hyung."
Martin smiled.
He stroked him faster, his thumb rubbing the tip. Juhoon came with a cry, his body convulsing, his cum spilling over Martin's hand.
"Now lick it off." Martin said.
Juhoon obeyed.
After that night, things changed.
Martin started touching Juhoon during the day. A hand on his shoulder. A finger tracing his spine. A kiss on the top of his head.
Juhoon didn't pull away. He leaned into it.
They watched TV together now. Martin would sit on the couch, and Juhoon would sit next to him, close enough that their thighs touched. Martin would put his arm around him, pulling him closer.
It felt normal.
Martin stopped thinking about whether it was wrong.
The first time Martin touched Juhoon while he was asleep, it was an accident.
He had come home late, drunk, stumbling through the dark. He went to Juhoon's room by habit, to check on him. Juhoon was asleep, his face peaceful, his lips slightly parted.
Martin stood there, watching him.
He was so small. So fragile. So innocent.
Martin sat on the edge of the bed. He reached out and touched Juhoon's cheek. His skin was soft, warm.
Juhoon didn't move.
Martin's hand drifted lower. Down his neck. Across his chest. Under the waistband of his pajamas.
Juhoon stirred, but he didn't wake up.
Martin's fingers found his cock, soft and small. He wrapped his hand around it, feeling the weight of it.
He stroked him, slow and gentle.
Juhoon moaned in his sleep. His hips twitched.
Martin kept going, his heart pounding. He was hard himself, his cock pressing against his jeans.
He stroked Juhoon until he was fully hard, until his breathing changed, until he was close.
And then he stopped.
He pulled his hand away and left the room.
The next morning, Juhoon didn't say anything.
Martin wondered if he remembered.
He decided it didn't matter.
The second time was deliberate.
Martin waited until Juhoon was deep asleep. He crept into his room, silent, careful. He pulled down the covers and lifted Juhoon's shirt.
Juhoon's body was pale, thin, his ribs visible. Martin traced them with his fingers, feeling the bone under the skin.
He leaned down and kissed his chest, his stomach, his navel.
Juhoon stirred, but he didn't wake.
Martin pulled down his pajamas. Juhoon's cock was soft, resting against his thigh. Martin took it in his mouth, sucking gently.
Juhoon moaned. His hand moved, brushing against Martin's hair.
"Hyung?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
"Shh," Martin said. "Go back to sleep."
Juhoon's hand fell back to the bed. His eyes closed.
Martin sucked him until he was hard, until he was close. Then he stopped.
He climbed onto the bed and pressed his cock against Juhoon's lips.
"Open." he whispered.
Juhoon opened his mouth.
Martin pushed inside, slow and careful. Juhoon's mouth was warm, wet, slack. He didn't suck. He didn't move. He just lay there, letting Martin use him.
Martin fucked his mouth, his hips moving in a slow rhythm. He watched Juhoon's face, the way his brow furrowed, the way his lips stretched around him.
"You’re doing great." he whispered.
He came in his mouth, Juhoon swallowed.
Martin pulled out and licked him clean.
He left the room, closing the door behind him.
The third time was in the bathroom.
They were at a public pool. It was summer. Juhoon had been swimming, his hair wet, his skin tan.
Martin watched him from the edge of the pool. He watched the way the water clung to his body, the way his swim trunks hugged his hips.
He grabbed Juhoon's wrist and pulled him out of the water.
"Come with me." he said.
They went to the bathroom. Martin locked the door and pushed Juhoon against the wall.
"What are you doing?" Juhoon asked, his voice shaking.
"Shut up."
Martin dropped to his knees and pulled down Juhoon's swim trunks. His cock was soft, wet with pool water.
"Hyung, someone could come in—"
"Then be quiet."
Martin took him in his mouth, sucking hard. Juhoon gasped, his hands grabbing Martin's hair.
"Hyung—"
"Shut up."
Martin sucked him until he was hard, until his legs were shaking. Then he stood up and turned Juhoon around, pressing him against the wall.
"Bend over."
Juhoon obeyed.
Martin pushed inside him, dry, rough. Juhoon cried out, but Martin covered his mouth with his hand.
"Shh," he whispered. "Someone will hear."
He fucked him hard, fast, his hips slapping against Juhoon. The sound echoed in the empty bathroom.
Juhoon was crying, tears streaming down his face. But he didn't tell Martin to stop.
When Martin came, he pulled out and watched his seed drip down Juhoon's thigh.
"Clean yourself up." he said.
He left the bathroom, leaving Juhoon alone.
The first time they actually had sex, properly, was in Martin's bed.
It was late. Juhoon was lying on his back, his legs spread, his eyes closed.
"Look at me." Martin said.
Juhoon opened his eyes.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes."
Martin pushed inside him, slow and deliberate. Juhoon's body was tight and welcoming.
"You feel that?" Martin asked.
"Yes."
Martin fucked him slowly, each thrust deep and deliberate. He leaned down and bit Juhoon's neck, hard enough to draw blood.
"Mine." he said.
"Yours." Juhoon agreed.
Martin grabbed his cock and stroked him, matching his rhythm.
"Come for me." he said.
Juhoon came with a cry, his body convulsing. Martin followed moments later, spilling inside him.
They lay there, tangled together, covered in sweat.
"I love you." Juhoon whispered.
Martin didn't say anything.
He just held him tighter.
After that night, Martin started sleeping in Juhoon's room.
It was easier. Juhoon's bed was smaller, but it was warmer. They fit together like puzzle pieces, Martin's arms wrapped around Juhoon's waist, his face buried in his hair.
Martin would wake up hard, his cock pressing against Juhoon's ass. He would push inside him, slow and sleepy, and Juhoon would moan, his body arching back.
They would fuck in the morning, in the night, anytime, anywhere.
It was routine, and it stayed like that for years.