evilsexdemon
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Summary
Many many years ago, a boy lived on a small farm with his mother.
In 1919, a young man struggled with life after the person he loved most was taken away from him, tending to his father's farm and feeding the chickens.
In 1986, an old man brings his brother a cup of tea.
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Now, Liam itched, and the cooling cream he’d nicked from the drug store didn’t really help. His only salvation was found on the surface of Noel’s thigh, short and just the right thickness to fit snugly between Liam’s thighs, as he rutted down against him, trying to ease the discomfort of his itching cunt. Leaving oval-shaped patches of wet on the knees of all of Noel’s best boy-trousers, the real wide ones that made him look like a big fucking rectangle.
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“But what,” Liam tutted, pressing himself against the small of her back. There it was, same as when they were young, Liam’s cock hard just from touching her tits. Noelle couldn’t help but feel a bit smug.
“But you’re gonna coax the milk out,” she hissed, and that stopped Liam straight in his tracks.
“What.” he said, hands dropping like lead.
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What it came down to was that he didn’t like the idea of Liam sitting on their unfinished garage floor, on his bare little knees, helping a fifty-something year old man sort hand-sized puppies from hand-sized blood clots, quickly so the dogs didn’t eat fucking either of the two categories. That was the exact vision that kept appearing to him– Liam-the-angel, his little brother, bare knees on the cold concrete, little hands covered in blood. Holding something so delicate he could kill it by squeezing, and he wouldn’t even have to squeeze very hard. Simultaneously, an older man’s front pressed against the back of ‘im, gut pressed against his shoulder blades, directing him what to grab and where to touch the entire blood-covered mess.
Liam, innocent. Noel, terrified.
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When he’s satisfied, he bends down as far as he can, chest to his knees, holding his hands behind his back. Noel watches. Liam leans forward and grasps one of the maracas’ handles between his teeth. When he’s certain it isn’t going to fall out, he carefully straightens out until he’s sitting upright again, maraca in his mouth. His jaw is clenching hard, struggling to keep the (presumably heavy) maraca in, and his pupils are somewhat dilated. He’s looking up at Noel expectantly.
Liam wants to give Noel his toys. Noel is enamoured with him.