Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/895074.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Harry_Styles/Marcel_Styles
  Character:
      Harry_Styles, Marcel_the_Marketing_Guy
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, Bullying, Hurt/Comfort, First_Time, Happy_Ending
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-23 Words: 4055
****** Shelter From the Mire of Life ******
by DaisyMayHoward
Summary
     Harry knows people bully his brother Marcel, but he can't do much to
     stop it. Instead, he'll have to show Marcel just how important he is
     to him.
Notes
     So... I wrote this because someone I follow on twitter demanded fic
     about Harry and Marcel being brothers and other stuff.
     She's really picky about what she reads. REALLY picky. So. I hope she
     likes this, even though it ended up with lots of feelings.
     I hope anyone else who reads it likes it too. If you don't, please
     don't say so. I don't take criticism well. That's probably why I
     haven't posted any stories online before this.
     Title is from Anberlin's "Safe Here".
See the end of the work for more notes
In all his years of being Harry’s brother, Marcel had never seen him quite this
angry.
“I can’t believe those bastards! I’ll kill them, I swear.” Harry kept on
ranting, ignoring Marcel’s attempts to get his attention. He raised his voice a
bit louder (“Harry!”) and his brother finally shut his mouth for a second.
“Harry, it’s okay. They didn’t mean anything by it.” Marcel attempted to calm
Harry down, but it seemed that his comment only made him more outraged.
“Didn’t mean anything- Marcel, they were bullying you! It’s not right! They’re
just jealous that they aren’t as smart as you. You shouldn’t let them push you
around like that.” After this final rant, Harry looked exhausted. Marcel led
him to his bed, sat him down, and told him to get some rest.
“You need to sleep. You look exhausted, and you have that test tomorrow.”
Marcel said quietly. Harry sighed and flopped down on the bed.
“You’re right. But we’re not done talking about his, okay?” He looked so tired
and worn out that Marcel couldn’t refuse. He never could refuse his brother
anyway.
“Alright,” he nodded, “now go to sleep.” As Harry went about doing just that,
Marcel turned off the overhead light, turned on his lamp, and got on his bed.
He took out his latest book (Crime and Punishment, which was exciting in the
beginning but rather obnoxious after the protagonist actually killed the woman;
he just wouldn’t stop rambling about it to himself). However, he found himself
unable to concentrate hard enough. He carefully placed his bookmark in it and
placed it on his bedside table. He sighed quietly, trying not to wake up his
now-sleeping brother.
He hadn’t known Harry would be so affected by the teasing; it wasn’t directed
toward him, why did it matter? Marcel was used to people bullying him, that’s
just how life is for anyone with an above average IQ and no sense of fashion.
He had built up something of an immunity to it in middle school. After several
horrible incidents, and harsh words spoken, he decided that he needed to accept
that this would always happen to him.
When people bullied him now, he just let it roll off of him. Mostly he tried
not to think about it. But it was time for bed now, and he needed to sleep or
he would be too tired to stay awake in class, no matter how interesting he
finds the subjects.
-
Marcel woke up to the oh-so-lovely sounds of his brother huffing about the
room, looking for his favorite (and desperately in need of some patching)
shirt.
“You alright?” He asked his brother this while he was yawning, and Harry looked
at him in confusion for a moment before he seemed to translate what Marcel had
said.
“I’m okay, it’s you that’s not, you need to get up or we’ll be late. I thought
you had already gotten up, but you’re even more invisible under your huge
blanket than I thought was possible. We have 10 minutes before we have to
leave.” Harry found his shirt. “Ha!” He threw Marcel’s clothes to him (Marcel
had a sad but ultimately helpful habit of laying out his outfits the night
before).
“I won’t have time to put my hair back!” Harry snorted at him.
“You look better without all that stuff in your hair anyway, Marcel.” He looked
at Marcel, taking in his sleep-rumpled hair, blushed slightly (which seemed a
bit odd to Marcel), and turned away. “Now get up!”
Marcel went about getting up and ready, and he attempted to comb his hair back
a bit to make it neater, but it didn’t help much. They were out the door on
time, and made it school without any hassle.
-
After school, Marcel had to wait around for Harry to be done with his club
meeting. He didn’t mind waiting. He knew Harry needed to have a lot of
extracurricular activities to beef up his college application. Harry was smart,
but not exceptionally so. Marcel had perfect grades, though, and he hoped that
that would be enough to help him get into college, because he didn’t like the
hassle of dealing with people that came with being in a club.
He had tried to join a club his freshman year (because it certainly couldn’t
hurt, could it?) but being around humans was exhausting. Going to class was bad
enough.
He sat down in the hallway near Harry’s meeting and took out his book.
Dostoyevsky was getting a bit old, but he wanted to finish the book anyway. He
had only gotten a couple paragraphs in when a group of boys came around the
corner and started snickering to each other.
“Hey look, it’s Marcie!”
“What’s that you’re reading? Some fancy book?”
“Ooh, you think you’re better than the rest of us, nerd?”
Marcel pointedly ignored them, hoping that would make them go away and let him
read in peace. Sadly, it did not work.
“Hey, geek, we’re talking to you!” One of them kicked him. Not hard enough to
make him react, but it would definitely bruise. Another one of them grabbed his
book and threw it against the wall. Now Marcel stood up.
“That’s a library book,” he stated quietly, and made to go and pick it up. One
of his aggressors grabbed his arm hard and shoved him up against the wall. His
head made contact, and it hurt rather a lot. He sighed. “Can you please let me
go?”
“Why? So you can go back to reading and feeling all self-important? No! You
need to be taught a lesson. You’re no better than the rest of us.” He sneered,
a great ugly twisting of his mouth. “Repeat after me; I’m an ugly fucking
geek.”
“I would rather not, if it’s all the same to you. Can I please go?” Marcel
tried to ask again, but instead of being released, he was on the receiving end
of a horrible punch on his cheek. He closed his eyes, trying not to cry out,
trying not to give them anything to use against him. He was really glad they
hadn’t hit his nose; he knew that they were prone to breaking.
“No, you can’t go! Say what I told you to say!” Marcel resigned himself to the
fact that he wouldn’t be going anywhere until he did as they asked.
“I’m an ugly fucking geek,” he said quietly.
“Good! Say this; I’m no better than the rest of you, I’m just trash.”
“I’m no better than the rest of you, I’m just trash.” Marcel again repeated the
words.
“That’s right! What are you?”
“Trash,” Marcel answered, trying to ignore the stinging pain that came from his
tears running over the cut on his cheek.
“Correct answer, geek!” The head bully decided to punch his stomach then.
Doubling over in pain, Marcel heard them jeering and laughing as they finally
walked away. Once he felt he could move, he got his book (and his glasses,
which had flown off when he was punched in the face) and walked to the nearest
bathroom to clean up his face.
He used some paper towels and mopped up the blood on his face, hoping that it
wouldn’t be too visible to Harry. He knew his brother was still upset about
yesterday, and this certainly wouldn’t help anything. It hadn’t developed into
a full-on bruise yet, but it still looked pretty bad. He decided to put off
looking at his stomach yet, he didn’t feel he could handle it just yet. He
returned to his spot in the hallway to wait for Harry, but he decided to walk
home instead. They were only a neighborhood over from the school, and Harry
only really drove to school instead of walking because he liked being old
enough to drive (you would think he’d get over that already, since he’d had his
license for nearly two years now).
He trudged out of the school and down the many blocks it took to get home. He
started to regret his decision, because he couldn’t stop thinking. He had
thought that he was tough enough to ignore the bullies, but maybe he had just
started believing them. He certainly felt like trash today.
When he got home, he went straight to his and Harry’s room and buried himself
in his covers. He fell asleep, though that had not been his intention.
-
When Marcel woke, he heard Harry slamming the door to their room and dumping
his stuff down. Marcel made sure to stay still. Pretending he was asleep was
easier than facing Harry just yet.
“Marcel, I know you’re awake. Why didn’t you wait for me? You always wait for
me.” Harry sounded hurt, and Marcel felt his chest twinge. “If you really
didn’t want to talk about yesterday, I guess we don’t have to talk about it,
but you didn’t have to run off.”
Marcel sighed. He kept his face buried in the pillow, but he answered, “I’m
sorry. I was just really tired.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Harry sounded really concerned. “You’re still
wearing your shoes.” Marcel quickly pulled his foot back under the blanket.
Harry was right. He hadn’t taken his shoes off before falling asleep.
“Of course, I’m fine!” Marcel tried to sound reassuring, but Harry narrowed his
eyes and came a bit closer. He started to take Marcel’s blanket from him, and
Marcel quickly made sure his face was hidden and his shirt was covering his
stomach adequately. The blanket gone, Harry looked even more suspicious.
“Show me your face, Marcel.” Harry’s tone booked no argument, but Marcel
remained stubborn. Harry moved to roll him over, and despite all his best
efforts, Marcel couldn’t stop it. He moved his hands to cover his face, but
Harry caught his wrists.
Harry gasped. “What the hell happened?” Marcel kept his face down.
“Nothing, I just ran into a wall. Just a bit clumsy, is all.” Marcel deflected
the question.
“Bullshit. It was those bullies again, wasn’t it? Please tell me you at least
got a punch in.” Harry’s eyes looked inexplicably teary. Marcel didn’t answer.
“Please, please just tell me what happened, Marcel, please.” Unable to
withstand the terrifying power of his brother’s teary eyes, Marcel gave him a
bit of the truth.
“They just found me reading in the hallway. They said some stuff, pushed me
around. That’s it. It doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t matter? Of course it matters! You’re my brother, and you’re wonderful,
you don’t deserve to be pushed around!” Marcel found himself getting angry at
his brother’s words.
“It doesn’t matter,” he nearly yelled, “because they’re right! I’m just trash!
I’m just another nerd who will end up working in a cubicle and wasting away.”
“Is that what you think? Is that what you really think? Because you’re wrong.
You’re not trash, you’re amazing. You’re a genius, and you’re going to do
amazing things. Those bastards,” he nearly spit the word out, “are just jealous
because they know they’ll end up working at fucking McDonald’s for the rest of
their lives. You’re not fucking trash, you’re my brother.”
“Exactly! I’m your brother! You have to be nice to me. You’re biased.” Marcel
was really angry now, because Harry just kept lying to him, and he didn’t like
it.
“Most kids aren’t nice to their siblings! We’re not normal siblings! I,” here
Harry quieted down a bit, “I love you.” He looked at Marcel, and he looked so
earnest that Marcel faltered. “You’re amazing, Marcel.”
He fell into Harry, his head on his shoulder, and he started crying. He let it
happen. He was too exhausted emotionally to stop himself. Harry seemed like he
really meant it, and Marcel was confused. Why would Harry think he was amazing?
Sure, he was kind of smart, but Harry was smart too, and he was funny, and
beautiful, and sociable, and all around better than Marcel. Compared to Harry,
Marcel was just a geek. But if Harry really believed what he was saying, then
maybe he wasn’t trash.
Once he had calmed down a bit, Harry lifted his head and placed a soft kiss on
his bruise. “Was it just this, or did they hit you anywhere else?” Marcel
wasn’t sure he wanted to tell Harry, but his brother was bound to find out
sometime anyway. He lifted his shirt to show the other bruise, watching as
Harry’s eyes flashed with – something, then what looked oddly like guilt.
After a pause, Harry bent down and placed another soft kiss on the bruise on
his stomach. He looked back up at Marcel’s face and asked quietly, “Anywhere
else?’ Marcel felt something stomping around in his stomach, but he answered
anyway.
“I’m not sure. I might have a bruise on my leg, they kicked me a bit.” Harry
began to slowly unbutton Marcel’s pants and pull down the zipper, and as he
followed Harry’s prompting to lift up a bit so he could slide his pants off his
legs, Marcel decided that he felt very strange indeed. His heart seemed to be
getting crushed and flying away at the same time, and his stomach had more than
butterflies. It felt more like elephants were having a party.
Harry found a small bruise on Marcel’s leg, a couple inches above his knee,
where one of the bullies had kicked him. He wrapped his hand around the side of
Marcel’s thigh, brushed his thumb over the bruise, and kissed it gently. He
left his hand there, but looked up at Marcel again.
“Marcel. When I said I love you, I-“ he broke off. He made a strange noise in
his throat, but continued, “I know you’re my brother, but I really love you.”
Confused, Marcel asked, “Like… you have feelings for me?” His cheeks were
surely flaming red by now. He felt like his whole face was on fire (not just
the bruise). Harry was blushing too.
“Yeah. I know I’m not supposed to, or whatever, but I love you. Plain and
simple. You’re amazing, and sometimes I feel terribly guilty because I want to
do filthy things to you.” He trailed off at the end, mumbling that last bit,
but Marcel caught it all the same. He couldn’t believe it.
“Why on earth would you like me? I’m not appealing or anything.” He was
genuinely confused as to why Harry would like him that way. He could do so much
better. Even if he wasn’t trash, even if he was better than those bullies like
Harry said he was, Harry could still do so much better.
Harry looked at him in disbelief. “I’ve just told you, my brother, that I have
feelings for you, and the first thing you think of is that you’re not good
enough for me? Which you are, by the way, too good for me, probably, but
shouldn’t the bigger issue here be our shared genetics? Or the fact that I’m a
boy and I don’t even know if you’re gay?”
“No.” Marcel shook his head. “I don’t know if I’m gay or straight or whatever,
until now, I’ve just been dormant, I guess. And I don’t care that you’re my
brother. I think I’ve always known that we’re closer than other brothers are,
and this would just prove me right, right? I just don’t know if you really mean
that or if you’re going to get tired of me really quickly or not.”
“Marcel,” Harry said in a very dry sort of tone, “I’ve shared a room with you
for the past eighteen or so years of my life. Don’t you think that if I was
going to get tired of you, I’d have done it by now?”
Marcel let out a small laugh. “I guess you’re right.” He shifted, then: “I
think I might be gay, actually, if my body’s reaction to your hand’s placement
is any indication.” Harry’s hand had drifted slightly up past mid-thigh, and
sure enough, Marcel’s cock had hardened a bit. He was embarrassed about the
bulge, given that Harry still was below eye-level and he couldn’t exactly hide
it.
Harry removed his hand and shifted up to straddle Marcel’s lap, keeping eye
contact as Marcel realized that his brother was also having a similar reaction.
“Will you let me love you, Marcel?” Harry sounded very serious, but when Marcel
nodded, he beamed. He took off Marcel’s glasses, and his shirt soon followed.
Harry leaned down and kissed his collarbone. Marcel helped Harry shed his
clothes too, and they were soon both in their briefs. Harry again climbed atop
Marcel.
Marcel was unsure what he was supposed to do. He was also still a bit dazed
that he was actually here, in this position with his brother. He had been a bit
oblivious, he supposed, looking back. Now that it had occurred to him, he was
very open to the idea of a relationship with Harry. Harry had always been there
for him, as his best friend and confidante. It would have been a bit vain to
say Harry was beautiful, because they looked nearly the same and Marcel knew he
wasn’t anything special, but Harry was beautiful.
Harry leaned in and kissed his cheek again. “I wish I had been there to defend
you. God knows you won’t do it yourself.” He brushed his lips against Marcel’s,
and Marcel pressed against him harder. Harry was surprised at Marcel’s
boldness, given his usual state of shyness, but then their clothed cocks
brushed and he moaned into Marcel’s mouth. He wanted to – he pulled back and
shifted down. He kissed Marcel’s collarbone again, nipping it this time. He
spent a bit of time licking at his brother’s nipples, then moved again to the
bruise on his stomach, kissing it softly.
“You’re acting like your kisses have healing power,” Marcel noted. Harry smiled
up at him.
“Don’t they?” He added another kiss with his cheeky smile, then moved lower to
mouth at Marcel’s cock through his briefs. Marcel moaned in shock and pleasure.
He had never even masturbated, since he felt like his time would be better
spent doing his schoolwork, but if it was even one tenth as nice as this felt,
he might have to try it sometime.
Harry looked up at Marcel and asked, “Can I suck your cock?” Marcel could only
nod. Harry pulled his briefs down and held him in his hand as he licked from
the base to the head, then slid his mouth down onto his brother’s cock. Marcel
was entirely incoherent by this point, and only Harry’s hands on his hips
stopped him from thrusting into his mouth. Harry kept at it, yet it was over
far too soon. Marcel spilled into his mouth, and Harry did his best to swallow,
but some ended up on his face as he pulled off.
Once Marcel was able to, he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come so quickly,
or in your mouth.” He was still recovering from his first orgasm, but he knew
enough to know that it wasn’t necessarily okay to come in someone’s mouth.
Harry leaned up. “Trust me, I’m okay with it.” He kissed Marcel then, and
Marcel could taste what he assumed was his come in Harry’s mouth. He returned
the kiss. He knew Harry was still hard, and he didn’t feel like he was done
either.
“Harry, will you fuck me?” He said it as quickly as he could, and he was
blushing again. He didn’t understand how he could still feel embarrassed when
his brother had just blown him, but he was.
“Are you sure?” Harry asked, “You could just jerk me off. We don’t have to fuck
yet.”
Marcel nodded. “I’m sure. Just be careful.”
“Of course.” Harry kissed him gently. “I’ll never hurt you, Marcel. Never.” He
got something out of his bedside table and returned to Marcel’s bed. “How much
do you know about how two guys have sex?”
“I know the general logistics of it. Lube, prep, proper stretching and all
that.”
“How do you know? Just curious.” Harry asked.
“I… read it in an advanced textbook on human anatomy and sexuality, if you must
know.”
“Where the hell did you get that textbook?”
“Not the school library, if that’s what you’re thinking. I read it when I was
at that college I visited a couple weeks ago.”
Harry stared at him. “You visit a college campus and you spend your time in the
library?”
“The library is the most important part, Harry.” Marcel gave Harry a very
serious look.
“Whatever you say, darling.” Harry dipped his fingers in the lube and pushed
one into Marcel slowly, beginning to prepare him.
“Well that’s… interesting,” Marcel remarked. He started to adjust to the
feeling of having something in his arse, and as Harry added another finger and
started to stretch him, he decided to reserve judgment. It wasn’t horrible, but
it wasn’t amazing.
After another finger, Marcel asked him to just get on with it.
“Alright,” Harry said, “If you’re sure.” Marcel nodded, and Harry put on the
condom he had grabbed from his drawer. He leaned down and kissed Marcel, then
slowly began to push in.
Other than the initial pain, Marcel decided that he did, in fact, like this. It
wasn’t necessarily the ‘having something large in his arse’ bit that he liked,
but simply the knowledge that Harry was inside him made him flush all over and
want more. Harry settled as he finally pushed in fully, and he paused to give
Marcel time to adjust. He looked at his brother’s face, and while he felt
amazing at the feeling of being inside Marcel, tight and warm and wonderful, it
was nothing compared to the happiness he felt when he saw the bliss on his
brother’s face. Marcel’s mouth was hanging open, but you could see the smile.
Harry bent down and kissed Marcel, not softly this time, but he tried as hard
as he could to pour his happiness and love into it, hoping that Marcel could
feel that. Marcel smiled into the kiss, and laughed.
“Is something funny?” Harry smiled, wondering why Marcel was laughing.
“I’m just so happy.” Marcel answered, still giggling a bit. Harry smiled softly
at him.
“Me too.” Harry began to move, slowly so he wouldn’t hurt him. Marcel groaned
when he felt Harry sliding in and out of him. He was overwhelmed that this was
even happening, his brain was shorting (traitor), and he was having a lot of
trouble forming coherent thoughts. All he could do was focus on Harry’s cock,
the way his had hardened again, and Harry’s hand holding his.
Then Harry shifted his hips and changed the angle a bit, and he felt something
odd. Very, very good, no question about that, but odd. That must be the
prostate, he thought, having read about it. After a few more thrusts, he found
himself suddenly coming again. He hadn’t expected it that soon, but when he
came, Harry came soon after. They stayed still for a moment, breathing, before
Harry pulled out and went about disposing of the condom.
Marcel began to feel sleepy, but he was sticky and needed to clean up before he
could sleep. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, expecting
to get some napkins or something to clean himself up, but when he tried to
stand up, the combination of the twinge in his backside and how utterly weak
his legs felt made him sit back down.
Harry came back over with some wet paper towels and helped him clean up. “Do
you want to sleep in my bed with me? Your bed is kind of… soaked in sweat.”
Marcel nodded sleepily and Harry helped him over to his bed. After Harry turned
off the light, they curled up together. Marcel laughed suddenly. Slightly
alarmed, Harry asked, “What?”
“It just occurred to me that we are really lucky the parents were out tonight,”
Marcel explained.
Harry smiled at him and kissed his forehead. “You’re right. Now go to sleep,
silly. I love you.” Marcel smiled and leaned into his brother’s chest.
“I love you too.”
End Notes
     I'm sorry for the crappy bits. Don't hate me.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!