Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8671948.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      モブサイコ100_|_Mob_Psycho_100
  Relationship:
      Hanazawa_Teruki/Kageyama_"Mob"_Shigeo, Kageyama_"Mob"_Shigeo/Reigen
      Arataka, Kageyama_Ritsu/Kageyama_"Mob"_Shigeo
  Character:
      Hanazawa_Teruki, Kageyama_"Mob"_Shigeo, Reigen_Arataka, Kageyama_Ritsu
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_in_later_chapters, Sibling_Incest, Dubcon_Kissing, Non-
      Consensual_Kissing, Pedophilia, it's_not_as_bad_as_it_sounds, basically
      reigen_and_ritsu_are_creepy, and_teru's_love_is_pure, and_they_fight_over
      mob, Good_times, Masturbation, a_LOT_of_fapping_probably, Pining, endgame
      terumob, Friends_to_Lovers
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-27 Updated: 2016-12-10 Chapters: 4/? Words: 6022
****** Endgame (PROBS WONT EVER B FINISHED UNLESS S2 GETS ME HYPED ENOUGH)
******
by billbert
Summary
     Teru has realized something very important - he might actually be in
     love with Kageyama Shigeo.
     Unfortunately, the love of his life has a brother and a mentor who
     seem to be hellbent on fucking up each and every one of his advances.
     God help him.
Notes
     REIGEN AND RITSU MIGHT BE A BIT CREEPY IN LATER CHAPS, IF INCEST/AGE
     DIFFERENCES MAKE U UNCOMFY DON'T READ THIS IT AINT FOR U
     BUT IF U ENJOY TERUMOB AND A LOT OF WEIRD SHIT THEN GET ON IN HERE
See the end of the work for more notes
***** introducing: horny teenage boy *****
There were certain faces that were no less unreadable when asleep. Usually, all
stoicism and barriers melted away with consciousness, leaving someone utterly
vulnerable. As they slept, you could see them in their purest form - an
uncomplicated, simple expression coupled with monosyllabic exhales and the
occasional garbled word. Nothing cryptic. People are as they were at birth
during deep slumber.

Well, most people are, that is.

Hanazawa Teruki studied his best friend's sleeping face with somewhat
inappropriate fervor. There was nothing perverse behind the gaze, though to an
innocent bystander the image of a nervous schoolboy trembling above a sleeping
body might set off a few alarms. Teru took a deep breath as he let his eyes
roam over the exceedingly basic face before him. Over the past two years, he'd
come to know this face very well.

However, like braille, it was impossible for a commoner like himself to
understand. There were no wrinkles, no scars, no blemishes. Just supple, paper-
white skin stretched over what Teru could only assume was a perfectly spherical
skull. Mob's long eyelashes fluttered a little as he slept, and Teru could only
wonder what it was he was dreaming about. Mob didn't like talking about dreams,
though he insisted that this was because he simply couldn't remember his
dreams.

Teru always remembered his own dreams. As an esper, he felt his dreams were
more potent than the dreams of others. More vivid, more colorful, more
malleable. He was in full control of the dream from start to finish, always.
Lately he'd been abusing this little talent of his somewhat. He knew that with
puberty came sexual desire, and he'd honestly never given that part of life as
much thought as his peers seemed to.

Back in the height of his popularity, a few of his admittedly very simple
friends had clumsily asked him if he could jerk off without using his hands.
They knew little of Teru's powers, but they'd seen him levitate commonplace
items out of laziness, and so they made perverse assumptions. Truth be told,
Teru had never actually tried the hands-off approach. Or any approach, really.
He just didn't have the time.

It wasn't until recently that he'd started to have feelings of that kind. He
liked to think of himself as being ever-composed and hard to frazzle. Sexual
frustration could be taken as a sign of weakness. He couldn't have anyone
taking advantage of his youth, so he tucked away the feelings and paid them no
attention, despite numerous advances from his peers (mainly girls, though he'd
had a few admirers of the same sex, much to his chagrin).

It was only through dreams and fantasies that he allowed himself to explore
that sort of thing. In his final year of middle school, he realized with horror
that he wasn't as attracted to women as he'd initially thought. Not that he
wasn't attracted to them at all, mind you. They were certainly more
aesthetically pleasing than most males.

The key word being most.

Mob had always sort of broken Teru's rules. He'd absolutely decimated his
worldview upon their first meeting, and though nothing so earth-shattering had
happened between them since, there had certainly been moments of revelation and
surprise that had blossomed over the course of their friendship.

Mob was very nice to look at, Teru had realized fairly early on. He wasn't
attractive in the conventional sense, but something about his inherent softness
was really appealing to Teru. He hadn't taken this realization as something
sexual until much later - at first, the feeling seemed much like the sort of
lightheaded, heart-clenching air that overtook you when viewing a particularly
fluffy kitten.

Teru vividly remembered the night in which he'd come to understand the true
nature of his feelings - sat on the edge of his bed, heat pooling in his
abdomen for no reason in particular. Seeing as he was all alone, he allowed
himself a brief moment of indulgence. As he wrapped his hand around himself and
shut his eyes, he was horrified to be greeted with an image of Mob sans
clothing. It was a mistake, a little slip-up of the brain. He spun the
imaginary roulette wheel again and allowed his eyes to shut.
A slightly different image this time - Mob between Teru's own legs, licking
atthat-

Teru's eyes snapped open and his gave his cheek a little slap with his free
hand as though to somehow discipline himself. These thoughts weren't the usual.
Sure, Mob had appeared in fantasies before, though it had always been an
accident, something Teru had been able to quickly erase and replace. This time
it seemed different.
GIving it a final try, Teru returned to the darkness that hid behind his
eyelids, only to be welcomed back by Mob, who was cuddled up next to him in
clothing that barely concealed the more sexual parts of his body. Teru didn't
open his eyes - he went with it. What would it be like to have that kind of a
relationship with Mob? What would it actually be like to kiss those lips, to
touch that soft skin, to show him how much he was loved?

Teru's brain conjured up images that served as hypothetical answers to these
pressing questions, and all too soon he was snapped back into reality, left
only with a cummy hand and a heavy heart. Something about what he'd just done
had felt wrong, like stealing someone's virginity before their wedding day. It
was all in his head, so no major crime had actually been committed, but still -
Teru couldn't help but worry that somehow Mob had ways of finding him out.

As he cleaned himself up, he came to a bit of a realization - perhaps he liked
Mob. And perhaps he should try getting closer to him. That would surely be the
logical thing to do, right?

So that was why he'd found himself hanging over his best friend's face a year
later, lips dangerously close. Mob was asleep, and Teru wouldn't take advantage
of that, tempting though it may be. But still, this was a perfect opportunity
to memorize the face before him. The fullness of his cheeks, the tiny curve of
his nose, the plumpness of his pink lips - it made Teru's heart hurt.

No matter how hard he may try, Mob would always obliviously spurn his advances,
that much he knew.

Still, there was no point in giving up just yet - not when Teru had such a
great plan in mind. Shifting back into the bed alongside Mob's small, warm
body, Teru pulled the little paper scrap out of his pocket and went over the
script again.

Mob, I think I've come to realize something. Time and time again I've tried to
get closer to you, both physically and emotionally. You don't make it easy for
me, but I feel like slowly, I'm getting to know you better, and we're becoming
better friends. But just being friends might not be enough for me. You see,
lately it's been tough even being around you - my heart speeds up, I feel my
face go warm, and I just want so badly to hold you. I know that sounds weird,
and maybe it is a little weird, but trust me when I say this - I think I might
be in love with you. I can only hope that you feel, even in the slightest way,
the same.

God, it was cheesy. But the subtlety of Teru's usual flirting was lost on Mob.
This confession might be his only shot. Teru whispered it to himself as he too
drifted back to sleep.
Tomorrow would certainly kill him.
***** introducing: a gross time *****
Chapter Summary
     disgusting
"I have to go home." chimed the familiar adenoidal voice, the body it belonged
to coming into view shortly thereafter as Mob stepped out of the washroom. Teru
regretted that he had to leave so soon, especially since it was summer break.
Surely Mob wasn't in any hurry - he had no responsibilities aside from his
afternoon job as a con artist's assistant.

"Your job isn't until the afternoon though," Teru remarked, voice slathered
with a desperation that he was positive Mob noticed. "You can stay here for
breakfast, at least. I can make us something nice, I'm not that bad in the
kitchen." He bragged, clambering out of the bed and flashing what he hoped was
a winning smile.

Mob's eyebrows crinkled with concern, eyes darting around like flies as he
struggled to find something to look at that wasn't Teru. A bit of a strange
response, Teru noted. Was he hiding something? Did he have plans he didn't want
Teru knowing about? Everyone had the right to privacy, of course - Teru decided
to ask only once before dropping the subject.

"Do you have plans?"

Mob looked down at his feet, thick fringe obscuring his face from view. Teru
could hear the little pop of his lips opening to let the words out, but all
that followed was silence. Heaving a petty sigh of defeat, Teru resigned
himself to not knowing.

That is, until Mob spoke up about a minute later, voice thick with something
Teru couldn't place.

"Sometimes my family worries if I'm not home by the time I said I'd be home."
Mob admitted, finally tilting his head upwards a bit to allow for eye contact.
And god, those eyes never failed to stir something deep within Teru - they were
the void taking on a physical form, something mysterious and primitive that
wasn't understandable to simpletons like himself.

"Surely they wouldn't have a problem with you staying for breakfast, though."
Teru mumbled, his own lack of confidence a little startling. He cleared his
throat instinctively, still a little shaken up by that look in Mob's eyes.
"It'd only be for another hour or so. And you shouldn't leave on an empty
stomach-"

Ever-submissive, Mob conceded and wordlessly sat himself down at the table in
Teru's modest kitchenette.

Teru beamed, happy to have a little more time with Mob. He practically leapt to
his feet, donning his slippers and heading into the kitchen, not even
embarrassed to be seen with hair disheveled and pyjamas wrinkled. He glanced
over his shoulder at Mob as he got out all the ingredients and accoutrements
he'd need to make some french toast.

"It won't be long. It usually takes me about ten minutes to make this stuff."
Teru ensured him, tossing a wink in Mob's general direction. At the mention of
how long exactly this would take, Mob stiffened. The next time Teru glanced
over at him, he was giving him a look of trepidation that made Teru spill a bit
of the egg-milk mix.

"Something wrong?"

"I can just get some plain toast or cereal. I really shouldn't dawdle too
long."

Was Mob trying to escape? Teru felt his heart sink to the bottom of his belly
as he realized that he'd basically forced Mob to stay for breakfast. Maybe he
really didn't feel comfortable being with Teru for this long -

"Oh...alright, then. I'll get you some cheerios. Sorry." Teru said, voice
susurrating through the empty room in a way that showcased his disappointment
to the fullest. He hadn't meant to be so dramatic in his tone and delivery, but
you can't always take the bravado out of one who had once considered himself a
god.

"No, no...it's okay. I think I can stay for a little while longer. After all,
you've already started preparing the meal. I just should get home right away
afterwards." Mob mumbled, voice settling into something akin to a purr as he
grew more quiet with each word. Teru's heart danced as he went back to his
cooking.

The tension was as palpable as the heavy silence that had settled over the
small room. The only sound that could be heard was the faint sizzle of the
toast on the greasy pan, Teru's spatula disrupting the harmony every once in a
while to flip the pieces. He'd confess over french toast and hot tea, all alone
with Mob in the warm, sunny apartment. His heart was doing calisthenics, his
mind was stumbling over itself as it tried to prepare for the oncoming wave of
stress.

All too soon, the toast was done and Teru no longer had a reason to mull over
his decision. He divided up the portions, three pieces per plate, and drizzled
a large helping of maple syrup over each one. He set the table with Mob still
sat there like a doll, laying out napkins, silverware, and cups of tea before
placing the warm meal in front of his guest.

"Have you ever had french toast before, Kageyama-kun?" Teru asked, seating
himself across from Mob. It was intimate, eating together like this. The table
was really only made to accommodate one, so it felt cramped in all the right
ways. By the time Mob answered the question, Teru had already gotten so lost in
the labyrinth of those dark, beautiful eyes that it took him a moment to snap
back to reality.

"No, I haven't. It smells nice, though."

"Doesn't it? It's my favorite thing to eat for breakfast." Teru grinned,
starting to eat. He was glad to have something to do with his mouth, lest he
spill the confession too early and fuck up any semblance of a plan that he'd
had.

"Have you ever been to French, Hanazawa-kun?" Mob smiled, such a dumb smile
that Teru actually felt as though he might cry.

"Do you mean France? Yeah, I've been to France before. I don't think french
toast is actually that popular there, though." Teru explained, still a little
startled by the sudden blast of cuteness that was 'have you ever been to
French?'.

“Ah. Do you go overseas often? You look a bit foreign.” Mob mused, and Teru
couldn’t tell if he was genuinely invested in the conversation or if he was
just trying to keep the room from filling with an awkward silence.

“My family likes to travel.” Teru continued between bites. “My mother comes
from overseas. I think she might actually be French, but I’m not sure. I’m not
all that close to my parents.”

Mob let out a little noise that simulated curiosity and fascination, though
Teru could tell it was just that - a simulation. Mob had little to no interest
in Teru’s past, in fact, it seemed as though he was far more interested in the
french toast than in the french boy.

The meal was coming to a close far more rapidly than Teru had wanted it to.
That crumpled little script still lay in his pocket, and though he couldn’t
sneak a peek at it now, its mere presence drove him to begin the confession.
Here goes nothing, he thought, taking a deep breath and slowly tilting his head
up to look at Mob.

“Hey, uh-” Teru began, tripping over his thoughts, words, and tongue as he
tried to work up the courage that he needed.

Mob perked up and looked him in the eye, face tilted quizzically.

“Mob, I think I've come to realize something. Time and time again I've tried
to-”

There was a knock on the door. Of course there was. Teru tensed up, ignoring it
for the time being. It was probably the postman, and he could always leave the
mail in Teru’s postbox. After another knock, he’d leave. He’d definitely leave.
There was the second knock, perfect, now he’d leave. Teru listened for
footsteps, and -

KNOCKNOCKNOCKNOCKNOCK.

Christ, had the postman always been this pissy? Teru let out a barely audible
cry of irritation and stood up, meal still unfinished.

“Sorry, just let me get this. I’ll be right back.”

Mob nodded, looking delectably cute as always, and Teru, the poster child of
reluctance, dragged himself from the kitchenette and into the entryway, opening
up the door with a languid irritation that was sure to show the postman who was
boss.

Well, it would’ve showed the postman who was boss, provided that the figure in
the doorway had actually been the postman, and not Mob’s spitfire of a little
brother, who was currently wearing a look that suggested he’d bury Teru six
feet under if he didn’t retrieve his sibling immediately.

Tempted to slam the door, Teru settled on giving Ritsu the fakest smile he
could manage, grinning down at the slightly shorter boy with a palpable
irritation.

“Good morning, Ritsu! What brings you here so early? Shigeo and I were just
having breakfast-” Teru crooned, tossing around Mob’s given name as though it
were nothing, despite the fact that those three syllables were turning his
heart into a pile of mush as he spoke.

“Don’t call him that. And let me in. I’m supposed to pick him up now.” Ritsu
stated plainly, his words just as no-nonsense as his expression as he shoved
past Teru in a rather impolite fashion, not bothering to remove his shoes. Teru
wanted to tell him off, but he knew that he had to pick his battles. 15 year-
olds were never agreeable, and he reminded himself of that as he closed the
door softly.

Giving himself a moment to replenish his composure, Teru could hear the chatter
of the Kageyama brothers in the next room over. Ritsu chiding him for being an
airhead, Mob sighing and asking if he could finish his french toast. Upon
reentering the kitchenette, Teru was greeted with the superbly uncomfortable
sight of Mob eating the last piece of toast as his suprisingly-tall brother
towered over him, not allowing for any elbow room.

Standing up with a bit of an awkward air, Mob gave Teru a rare smile. Ritsu’s
attention had been elsewhere. It was a private gesture of friendship, meant for
Teru’s eyes alone. His heart was hammering rapidly as he tried to smile back as
handsomely as he possibly could.

“We’ll see ourselves out.” Ritsu declared, taking Mob by the hand and leading
him out like a child.

Mob looked over his shoulder with another heartbreaking grin.

“See you later, Teru.”

Teru’s hands fell into his pockets, one pressed against the confession and the
other curled up into a tight fist as he tried to process the fact that Mob had
just used his given name.

He had it so bad.
***** introducing: awkward incestuous time *****
Chapter Summary
     @ritsu: what a weirdo

It is said that sibling rivalry is at its most potent when it takes place
between two boys who are close in age. If the parents of these two children
happen to show any signs of favoring one child over the other, a deep hatred
can brew within the 'un-favorite'. In some cases, even the favored child can
harbor resentment against the child who is more often cast aside.

Freud would've had a field day had he stumbled across Kageyama Ritsu.

Throughout his life, everything had come very easily to Ritsu. He was blessed
with good looks, a capable body, and a mind that learned new concepts at an
alarmingly fast rate. All in all, he was a child that his parents could very
easily be proud of. When compared to his older brother, who was lacking in
pretty much every area imaginable, Ritsu shone even more brightly.

Though he'd long had a bit of an inferiority complex when it came to Shigeo’s
psychic abilities, Ritsu had awakened to his own unique powers in his first
year of middle school. Two years later, after copious amounts of training, he
could now say that his power rivaled that of the most powerful espers in his
age group.

One would think that someone who was blessed in so many different areas should
have no reason to be unhappy.

However, a Cain complex thirteen years in the making doesn't disappear with a
snap of the fingers. Despite his own powers being on the impressive side, Ritsu
was acutely aware of the ability gap that separated him and his brother, and
his hyperactive mind wouldn't let him forget it for even a second.

With this complex came an unhealthy obsession with Shigeo. It would manifest
itself as admiration, jealousy, animosity, and all number of emotions, both
negative and positive. Lately, however, Ritsu was finding a new way to deal
with his feelings. Possessiveness.

Perhaps his mind would let him rest if he could possess Mob. If he could be the
owner of such great power, he might not feel so awful about being around said
power all of the time. It was a narrow, distinctly middle school way of
thinking, but it was the train of thought that Ritsu was currently riding at
the time. It was delusional at best, but Ritsu still attempted to control Mob's
life in any way he could.

His parents didn't think of the constant hugs as anything other than brotherly
affection. It never occurred to them that having Ritsu trail behind Mob, arms
around his older brother's waist, might be seen as being a little abnormal.
Really, they were just happy to see their sons getting along so well.

Ritsu picked Mob up from high school every day and walked home with him. He had
begun to chaperone him to and from his job at Reigen's place. He'd even
established a system wherein Mob would have to ask his permission before going
to hang out with a friend. It was excessive, and Ritsu knew that, but his ever-
trusting older brother didn't suspect a thing. Whenever his methods were
questioned, Ritsu would explain that he did this out of love.

They fell into such a happy routine that of course Ritsu was a little shaken up
over the fact that Mob was an hour late coming home from Hanazawa's place.
There was something about that guy that Ritsu really didn't like - perhaps it
was the obvious affection with which he treated Mob. Those blue puppy-dog eyes
of his always made Ritsu sick. It was disgusting how lovey-dovey someone could
be without even realizing it themselves.

During Hanazawa's visits to their own home, Ritsu would lurk in the kitchen,
eyes on the qui vive for inappropriate actions. Sometimes the two would settle
into a casual cuddle whilst giggling over a TV show, but scenes like this were
easy to interrupt. All it took was a baleful look or two and Hanazawa would
reluctantly retract his disgusting arm.
Ritsu couldn't have anyone getting closer to Mob than he himself was. He saw
Hanazawa as a threat, in all honesty - but of course, Ritsu had the advantage
in this situation. He was around Mob more than anyone else, after all.

He’d retrieved Mob from Hanazawa’s place with ease, although the grossly
domestic scene he’d walked in on had certainly done a number on his psyche. Who
did that guy think he was, invitinghis brother over for cuddle-laden sleepovers
every other week, forcing him to stay over longer just so they could hold
awkward eye contact over soggy plates of french toast?

Ritsu was royally pissed off, to say the least. He might’ve been holding Mob’s
wrist a little too tightly, because he heard a faint whimper of protest as he
yanked the boy down the street. Composing himself, Ritsu stopped dead in his
tracks, releasing his brother’s arm from his iron grip.

He turned to face him, and god, that little pout on Mob’s face made at least
half of his anger wither away.

“Sorry. I just...I got a bit worried about you. You were an hour late, after
all. Maybe I was a little rude to your friend.” Ritsu murmured sheepishly,
finding that all his prior conviction had done a moonlight flit and thereby
left him defenseless in the face of his brother’s lovability.

“That’s okay. I tried to contact you as soon as Hanazawa requested I stay over
for breakfast, but I just didn’t have the time.” Shigeo apologized, giving
Ritsu a bashful sort of half-smile.

“Well, as long as you don’t make a habit of it.”

His mother had often scolded Mob for his lack of punctuality, so in a sense,
Ritsu’s concern was just an extension of his Mother’s. That’s how he would
explain it to anyone who asked. Their family was tight-knit, their bonds were
firm and strong and could not be broken by Hanazawa Teruki, no matter how many
shitty pieces of french toast he flung at the weakest link.

Upon arriving home, Ritsu settled into his usual position - bent over, arms
around Shigeo’s waist and face resting atop his soft little bird’s nest of
hair. The two of them fit together so snugly, so naturally, it would take a
special kind of cynic to doubt their closeness.

Mob would give the occasional roll of the head, and Ritsu would keen into it,
taking the chance to inhale the sharp scent of strawberry shampoo that wafted
off of the inky locks. His heart hammered against its confines with the
attitude of a caged animal, repeating itself over and over -

I Love Him. I Love Him. I Love Him.

They made their way to the couch, still thoroughly entwined. Ritsu was
enraptured by the feel of his brother’s warm body against his own in a way that
bordered on perverse. Parting, however brief, was torturous, and it was with a
sense of sadness that Ritsu let go of Mob, allowing him to take a seat.

But within seconds the heat was back and Ritsu was touching him everywhere at
once, hands in his hair, traveling down his chest, caressing his waist,
drifting over his thighs, alarmingly hungry and wanting. Shigeo seemed to think
the assault commonplace, for he didn’t give any outward reaction.

Ritsu was about to take a leap of faith. Shigeo was so complacent right now,
even more so than usual. His crazed mind was still enamored with the idea of
getting close to this perfect angel in a way that no one else, not even
Hanazawa Teruki, could.

He feverishly smashed his mouth against Shigeo’s, and despite the teeth, it was
three seconds of bliss. It would’ve lasted longer had his older brother not
nudged him away, an unreadable display of emotion playing out on his face. If
Ritsu had to guess, Mob’s eyes and mouth suggested he was horrified.

But he couldn’t bring himself to believe that. He tried again.

Teeth and wetness and warmth and want, and less resistance this time. There
were fragile noises of protest, but they were ambiguous enough to be moans of
pleasure, and so Ritsu kissed him into oblivion and back.

The sound of the key turning and the door handle creaking into a new position
tore the two apart, and with superhuman speed, Ritsu turned on the TV.

Animal Planet, Mob’s favorite.

The guilt knocked at his heart, but Ritsu did not let it inside.
***** introducing: euueuuUEUEUGHGHHHH *****
Chapter Summary
     a creepy ritsu moment feat. penis
The dinner that night had been beyond awkward. Curry, as usual, was served upon
imitation china, and the usual banter between the parents filled up the room
with a sense of desperation, lest that suffocating silence blanket their table
again. The two sons sat in stony silence, refusing to look at anything other
than the grains of rice upon their identical plates.

The parents pretended not to notice. Of course, when it came to raising teenage
boys, there were bound to be nights like this. Nights where their sons had
perhaps gotten into something of a fight and had mutually agreed to give each
other the silent treatment. It really was nothing to worry about, though it was
an oddity at their dinner table.
Usually, Ritsu would have his arm around Shigeo for half of the meal, eagerly
engaging in bright, shiny conversations about the day’s events. There would be
smiles and giggles abound, unlike the clenched teeth and tense muscles of
today’s dinnertime.

The parents didn’t suspect a thing, and Ritsu was glad. He knew that they’d
simply think that he and Shigeo had gotten into a tussle of sorts. Which,
technically they had, albeit it was a tussle that involved far more lip-to-lip
contact than what was considered to be normal. Ritsu’s lips still clung to that
warmth, they still buzzed with excitement, all the nerve ends sparking and
dancing as they remembered Shigeo’s softness.

Heart thudding, Ritsu left the table a few minutes early, scrubbing the dregs
of curry off of his plate. There was that guilt again. Though Ritsu had the
mental strength to convince himself that he was in the right, this guilt was a
formidable enemy.

How could you do this, it would cry. How on earth could you molest your own
brother like that? It was all because Shigeo was so damn pliant, so
irresistable. He had an inherent softness to him that made him amazing to hold,
amazing to touch, and Ritsu imagined that it’d be amazing to fuck him as well.

He knew that wondering what it’d be like to fuck your own brother was abnormal,
to say the very least. But in all honesty, he wasn’t too fond of the idea of
anyone else taking Mob’s virginity. Just the thought of someone owning him in a
way that Ritsu never could was infuriating and actually sort ofscary.

Especially if it was that Hanazawa guy. That douche probably tried to get more
intimate with Shigeo at every syrupy sleepover of theirs. He’d scooch closer,
envelop Mob in his half-foreign, half-hard warmth, rutting against that tight
little pyjama-clad ass until-

Ritsu hadn’t realized how tightly his fists were clenched. White-knuckled, he
stood up and took a deep breath, hoping desperately that the increase of oxygen
in his bloodstream would result in an increase of rational thought in his mind.
Alas, this sorta shit never works out, and the brother-fucking fantasies
remained at the forefront of Ritsu’s twisted mind.

Flopping his rear back onto the comfiness of the mattress, he decided he’d let
off a little steam. His usual masturbation fantasies consisted of interactions
with Shigeo, though these fantasies contained as little explicit material as
Ritsu’s erection would allow. Even a guy like Ritsu had a moral compass - of
course he did. And that compass was always pointing in the exact opposite
direction of incest, as was the case with most people.

And besides, usually even the thought of the soft skin on Shigeo’s thigh was
enough to do it for Ritsu. Sometimes he’d picture himself running his hands
over it, or gently grabbing at it, but nothing more. He couldn’t allow himself
to get off to anything more profane and fleshly than that.

Today, however, his mind was running on the adrenaline of having just kissed
Shigeo, and it was near impossible to keep his fantasies under control. As he
touched himself, Ritsu couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to press his
dick between those plump thighs. God, he hated himself for it, but the thought
felt fantastic.

Shigeo would certainly let out a few cute noises of surprise, especially when
he felt his younger brother’s erection rubbing up against the underside of his
balls - just imagining what that weak cry would sound like brought Ritsu close
to his climax. Not wanting the reverie to end just yet, Ritsu slowed down the
movements of his hand just enough to keep from cumming.

Shigeo would have his hands up against the wall, bent over to make it easier
for his brother to thrust between those delicious thighs. He’d tilt his head
just enough to make eye contact, and in those watery eyes you’d see arousal,
you’d see love, you’d see devotion. I’m only doing this for you, Ritsu, he’d
say.I’d never let anyone else see me like this.

Ritsu imagined that the flesh on Mob’s hips would yield to his touch, allowing
him to dig his nails in and bruise it as much as he’d like. The pressure of the
pudgy thighs around his cock would make it hard for him to last longer than a
few minutes - then he’d pull away momentarily, take himself in hand, and cum
all over that adorable ass.

It took a moment.

Since when had the door been ajar like that? Ritsu could see a single shadowy
eye, lid lowered in a somber manner. Someone had been watching. The tissues
were close, he could wipe and redress and confront them in a matter of seconds,
but he found that he was unable to move.

His hand grew stickier by the second, and through his disgust at himself he saw
someone who was inevitably a thousand times more disgusted than he was.

“Shigeo-”

Mob didn’t say a word, though he stepped through the door as if into the
afterlife, with a deep sense of resignation and disappointment. He closed off
the entrance behind him, lest a nosy mother confront this odd scene and react
poorly to it. The patting noise of his sock feet on the carpet was uneven and
unsettling.

“Shigeo-”

It was obvious that Ritsu hadn’t been as quiet as he’d hoped. Perhaps a moan of
“Nii-san” had slipped out. Shigeo’s expression was apprehensive, and Ritsu
couldn’t stare into those dusky eyes for a second longer. He averted his gaze,
and Mob stepped even closer, until his body was a meter away from the painfully
naked penis of his younger brother.

“Ritsu, what’s this all about?” He asked, voice as nondescript as ever. Ritsu
supposed that he just didn’t want to show any weakness.

There was no right way to respond.

“Nii-san, I just...I like you. I don’t really feel like talking about it. I-
you might- this is a weird sort of-” The words were glitchy, and the resulting
sentence ended up being nothing but word salad. A whole mouthful of emptiness.

“Ritsu...it’s wrong.”

Ritsu found that his mouth had dried up completely. His throat was parched and
his tongue was gummy and useless. He gave Shigeo a look of utter despondency,
and when he tried to speak, all that came out were a few listless crackles of
the ol’ vocal cords. Under Mob’s judgmental gaze, he’d aged fifty years.

“I know.” He finally spat. “I just love you. I love you, Shigeo. I want to be
yours.” He finally managed, cleverly subverting the weight of his actions by
making himself out to be an innocent victim of a taboo attraction. Really, he
did not want to belong to Shigeo. He wanted Shigeo to belong to him.

“Ritsu...” Came the brittle voice. Obviously softened by Ritsu’s words, Shigeo
sat down next to him on the bed.

Ritsu took the opportunity to casually clean the cum off of his hand. The
tissue was lifted into the trashcan in a discreet display of power that
actually made Mob titter a little. What a gorgeous sound that was.

Suddenly, there was a hand brushing against his cock. Shigeo’s hand - a soft,
pale, beautiful thing. Ritsu’s heart sped up. More blood was needed, more and
more and more - it all filtered up into his cheeks and down into his dick. He
became hard at an embarrassing rate, his stamina showing off at the worst
possible moment.

Then he felt the blanketing sensation of cotton over his erection, and it hit
him - Shigeo was redressing him, not initiating a handjob. Though obviously,
he’d noticed the boner and was now contemplating suicide, or something of the
sort. His face was grim and it was clear that he wanted to set fire to himself,
his incestuous brother, and the entire house. It was a small miracle that he
managed to stay calm enough to work the zipper with such precision.

“Ritsu, I think I’m going to sleep over at Hanazawa’s place tonight. Hopefully
that’s okay.” He said softly, though said softness was laden with a thousand
thorns that suggested Ritsu had better fucking comply.

And comply he did, nonetheless with a sense of reluctance. He’d pick him up at
nine sharp, not wanting to risk another maple syrup-coated moment that might
bring the two together.

Out of the window, he could see Shigeo making his way up the street, duffel bag
slung over his shoulder.

He was out of sight within moments.
End Notes
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