The usual disclaimers apply. If you are offended by the thought of men having sex with men, then this story isn't for you. If you are not old enough to read such material, or if such material is illegal in your region/country, then this story isn't for you. Otherwise, lube up and have a good time!
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This story will also contain elements of raunch, including piss play, farting, and general gross guy stuff. This story won't contain any scat, though there will be mentions of shitting, etc. If these aren't your thing, proceed at your own risk.
This chapter is a bit more exposition/character introduction, so be prepared for that. There will be more sex in the next couple chapters, for sure.
The Brothers
Sunlight filtered in through the window, warming the sparse, wood-bare room. Having the highest room in the complex came with plenty of downsides - most stairs to climb at night, farthest walk to bathe, farthest walk to empty the shit pot, etc. One of the only upsides was the access to light. All of the other huts were well below the canopy, where light could not penetrate. This room, though, set right in the center of the limbs, always had a nice glow, even when the summer leaves filled in. During the winter, there were no leaves blocking the sun's rays, and they heated the otherwise chilly space.
Lyre lay on the bed, basking in the morning light. Despite the mild chill that persisted, he'd kicked the blanket off earlier. It served its purpose well at night but was little more than a distraction in the morning. Stroking his cock was much more pressing.
It had become a morning routine for the dark-haired youth. Wake up with the sun. Stretch and contemplate the day. Release the seed of the previous 24 hours. Clean up and find his way to breakfast. It was simple, and Lyre appreciated that he could repeat it each and every day without fail.
Except for, of course, the days on which he did fail.
This was one of those days. He was right in the middle of the stroking, really starting to hit the stride of his play time, when the door to his room burst open. No knock. No sound of heavy heels on the stairs leading to his room. No call of his name from outside. No warning at all.
"Hey Lyre-"
"SHIT!" Lyre yelled, quickly becoming a flurry of arms and legs as he tried to conceal his stiff, glistening prick from whomever was entering the room. The kicking and jolting made it hard to grab onto the blanket, but he did finally manage to pull it up over himself. Looking over, he realized it had all been (basically) for naught.
In the doorway stood Kipp, wearing the smile of someone who just found exactly what he was looking for.
"Looks like someone is up this morning."
"Ahhh, fuck off Kipp." Lyre groaned, falling back against his pillow, eyes closing in frustration.
Kipp stepped forward, pushing the door shut behind him. He eyed Lyre hungrily, his eyes focusing on the mound formed by Lyre's erection.
"Looks like you'd rather I do something else, Lyre." He sat down on the bed, hand rubbing the muscled stomach before him.
"Yeah, I'd rather you leave me be." Lyre reached out to grab the boy's hand, removing it from his stomach. Kipp looked back at him, eyes wide and pleading. It was obvious he'd hope to find Lyre in this exact position. How could anyone turn away a helping hand when they were already in the throes of pleasure?
"But," he reached out with his other hand and grabbed Lyre's cock through the covers, his grasp firm, "don't you need someone to help?"
Lyre tried to respond, but found that his body was faster than his mouth. His hips rose as soon as Kipp grabbed him, forcing his cock up through the young man's grasp. He could maybe play that off, but it would be much more difficult to brush away the groan that escaped his lips.
"I'm going to take that as a yes." Kipp smiled, looking down at him. "Let me help you, brother."
Those words. That word specifically. Brother.
It sent a shock to Lyre's system, causing him to bolt upright. The sudden movement of his body forced Kipp's hand away, much to the younger boy's disappointment.
"Godsdamnit Kipp!" Lyre yelled. His eyes caught Kipp's, only to see a large pair of doe eyes looking back at him. "Don't give me that, kid." His voice had dropped back to a normal level but had lost none of its seriousness.
"Not sure what you're talking about, Lyre." Kipp sounded softer than normal. He was really working to lay on the innocence. He reached yet again for Lyre's cock, which, at this point, was shrinking.
Lyre grabbed his arm before he was able to make contact.
"I'm done, Kipp. No more this morning." He looked into the younger man's face, furrowing his brow and trying hard to convey his seriousness. Kipp simply stared back, trying as hard as he might to keep his eyes large and glistening.
Lyre, sensing the uselessness in trying to run him off, sighed.
"What are you up here for, anyway? Just here to annoy me this morning?"
"Oh! I almost forgot!" Kipp giggled. "Milton wants you in the main hall as soon as possible. He sent me up here from breakfast." He paused, looking down again at the bulge created by Lyre's crotch. "He told me I might find you in a `compromising position.'" He used air quotes to accentuate this. "He obviously didn't need to say anything else."
"Yeah, I bet he didn't." Lyre breathed heavily, again laying his head back and closing his eyes. He almost immediately snapped back up, though, as he felt a hand running up his thigh. "Godsdamnit, Kipp, lay off. I've got places to be apparently."
"But Lyre... can't we have a bit of fun before you go? I don't know what Milton has for you, but he sounded serious."
"No, not this morning, Kipp." Lyre racked his brain. Anything to get this kid to go away, at least for now. "If Milton is asking for me, I need to go quickly." Pushing the blanket aside, he stood up. His cock had deflated enough that it didn't even stand out from his body, just lightly bounced over his balls.
"Damn. I was hoping you'd want to." Dejected, downtrodden, defeated. Any of these words could have accurately described Kipp as he stood and walked toward the door of Lyre's room. "I'll see you around, then." The words were barely a mumble.
Lyre watched him go, only registering his sadness as he turned to close the door. In an instant, the look on Kipp's face transported him back to a time he'd never forget.
~ He'd heard the sound as he passed a mid-level room. It sounded like sobbing. Granted, it had been a long time since Lyre heard that particular sound, but he was pretty sure he'd heard it. Now just to figure out which room it had come from...
The sound could have escaped any of them; they all had open windows. In the middle of summer, it was the only way to vent the hot, sticky air from the rooms.
But which room had someone in it? Most, if not all of them, should have been empty. It was the middle of the day, so most of Milton's students would be out practicing or on assignment. Luckily, Lyre's assignment for the day had been easy, so he'd had time to make it back for a nap.
It did not take much looking to find the source of the sound. Each level of the complex was only made up of ten or so rooms, and he'd found what he was looking for in the 5th room he'd peeked into.
It was a young boy, sat directly on the floor of the room, facing a bowl of water, and sobbing. It was a true sob, too. Only the hand across his mouth prevented the sound from leaking out. A steady line of tears streamed down his cheeks, over his hand, then dripped from his chin. His shoulders shook with each muffled cry.
Not knowing what else to do, Lyre rushed into the room and knelt beside the boy, whom he did not know from the wilderness.
"Hey, shhhhhh, shhhhh, shhhhh," he said as he rubbed the boy's shoulder. He couldn't think of anything else to do or say in the moment. It wasn't like he was going to be able to find the boy's parents. "It's okay. Whatever it is, it's okay."
He remained there, rubbing the boy's shoulders, softly offering bits of hope. Surely, someone would eventually come along and help him. This wasn't his forte; he didn't know how to care for a kid.
After what seemed like an eternity to Lyre, the boy at his feet sniffed loudly. A pair of large, brown eyes looked up at him, the whites red from crying for so long. Light from the opened window drew attention to the wetted lines running down his cheeks and the moistened inner corners of his eyes. Without thinking, Lyre reached up and wiped, clearing the lines with his hands.
"Whatever it is, it is okay." Lyre said, trying hard to smile and hold the boy's stare. The boy looked at him, sniffled, then looked down at the bowl of water.
"It's NOT okay. I can't do it." The boy basically shouted the word "not." He followed up with another sniff, threatening to burst back into tears. Lyre jumped, working quickly to say anything he could to prevent the kid from continuing to cry.
"No, no, I promise it's okay. Whatever you are trying to do, I'm sure it just takes practice!" He looked from the boy to the bowl of water. "How about this? How about you tell me what you are trying to do, and I'll see if I can help?"
The boy looked at him, eyes still wide. Even though Lyre's hand was on the boy's shoulder, rubbing softly, the boy still eyed him with suspicion.
"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't even introduce myself," Lyre began, "My name is Lyre. I have been here for a while, and Milton has taught me a lot of what he knows." The boy continued looking at him but didn't respond. "You know Milton, right?" The boy did acknowledge this, nodding his head rapidly.
"Of course he knows Milton," Lyre thought, "he wouldn't be up here if he didn't."
"Is Milton the one who asked you to do... whatever it is you're trying to do?
Again, the boy nodded, not taking his eyes off of Lyre.
"Does it have to do with the bowl of water?"
Another nod.
"Okay, I understand. You know, Milton asks everyone to do something when they first get here. Hell, he asked me to turn a feather into a piece of silk. He does it based on what he expects of you, and, between you and me...?" Lyre leaned in, lowered his voice, and raised an eyebrow, indicating the information to be a secret. The boy, understanding the body language, nodded his head vigorously. "He doesn't ever give you anything you can't do. That's what I have learned."
Lyre leaned back, hoping he'd spun enough of a little tail that the boy would buy in. Of course Milton didn't give a task he didn't expect to be completed. He didn't take in anyone who couldn't do the basics. But the young boys never knew that, and Lyre knew very well what that felt like.
The boy sniffed again, looking up at him but revealing no more regarding the task at hand.
"If Milton asked you to do something," Lyre turned to the bowl of water, "then I know you can do it. How about letting me help though? I've been here a while. I bet I know a trick or two." He winked at the kid before him, who turned back to the bowl of water and stared.
It took a moment of silence, but the boy finally spoke.
"He wants me to make it ice."
"Oh!" Lyre practically screamed. "I know for a fact you can do that. Water into ice is an easy one!" He shifted his body to look at the bowl of water, then held out both hands.
"Here, hold out both hands like me. Now, open your palms. No, no, do it like this, face your fingers up." Lyre took the smaller hands in his and flipped them around, facing the fingers toward the sky. "Here, like this."
The boy simply looked at him and nodded.
"Hey," Lyre lowered his hands, "I don't even know your name. What is it?"
"Kipp." The boy responded, his hands not moving from the position Lyre had placed them in.
"Okay, cool. Alright Kipp," Lyre raised his hands again, "let me walk you through how to turn this water into ice. It really isn't hard once you have the hang of it."
Kipp turned toward the bowl and nodded his head.
"Let me do it first. Just watch what I do and listen to what I say, okay?" Lyre waited for a nod before continuing. "Focus all the energy you have into your hands. Just put everything you've got out there. It's going to feel like you're dying a little bit everywhere else - that's okay, it should feel that way. You are stealing all of your energy from the rest of your body and moving it to your hands. Don't worry - it spreads back out after you finish concentrating. I'm going to do it now, watch my hands closely."
Within a couple seconds, Lyre's hands started to glow with a soft purple light. Even in the faint sunlight, Kipp could see it. He recoiled but didn't run away.
"Once all that energy is in your hands, all you have to do is -" Lyre quickly snapped his hands shut, forcing his fingers down to form a fist. Nearly as soon as he did, ice trickled from the edges of the bowl, moving inward and quickly overtaking all of the water.
Kipp stared, wide-eyed.
"It just takes some practice," Lyre breathed, "I know you can do it."
"How old are you?" Kipp responded without looking away from the bowl. It was a question that caught the older boy off guard. Not that he minded responding, but he had expected something more along the lines of "how did you do that? or "can you show me again?"
"I'm 16." Lyre paused. "What about you, Kipp? How old are you?"
"11." The boy responded without pausing.
The two sat there in silence for another moment, each seemingly lost in his own thoughts.
"Can you turn it back into water for me?" Kipp finally asked, not looking up from the water.
"Oh. Sure." Lyre barely reached forward, flicking his fingers and turning the ice back into liquid water. "Let's see you do it, kid."
Kipp spent the next two hours working diligently. He would reach, concentrate, then grab at the air, closing his fingers into a tight fist. To begin with, he'd done nothing more than frustrate himself. Slowly, though, the water in the bowl had begun to ripple each time Kipp slammed his fingers closed. Lyre leaned back against the bed and watched, having given all the advice he could provide.
"Holy shit!" Kipp finally cried. He'd done it. He'd effectively frozen the water in the bowl. It had not happened immediately, but it had happened. He turned to Lyre. "I did it!" He yelled.
"You did." Lyre laughed. "See, I told you you could do it. Milton never gives tasks that can't be completed." He got up and moved toward the door. "I'm happy for you. I'll see you around, Kipp."
"Hey, Lyre!" Kipp yelled. Lyre turned back and stared.
"What?"
Kipp ran over and threw his arms around the older boy. "Thanks, Lyre. You're the older brother I never had."
~ "Kipp!" Lyre called, standing at the opening to his simple wardrobe. "Hold on."
Kipp stuck his head back in the room, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"Milton won't send me off today, I'm sure of it. He never sends people off same day. How about you come back over tonight? We can... have some fun?"
Kipp's face immediately showed his excitement. "Yeah! I'll be back over tonight. I'll come around dark." And with that, he was gone. Lyre could hear his heavy footsteps hitting the stairs on the way down.
"Of course he hid the sound on the way up," Lyre thought as he fell back onto his bed. Five years later, and Kipp was still a needy kid. The only difference was that, now, Kipp's neediness took on a sexual tone. No matter how horny Lyre was, though, he couldn't bring himself to defile the 11 year old he'd found. At least, not in the way that Kipp wanted.
Sure, they could masturbate together. That's where Kipp had gotten all of the crazy ideas. And yes, Kipp had finally worn him down enough to suck his cock (more than once). Lyre had to admit, the mousy-haired boy was good at it, too. Even on his first attempt, he'd done a better job than anyone Lyre had been with before. He couldn't quite get Lyre's entire cock down, but he worked hard. After that first time, Lyre couldn't justify turning him down for it again. He'd have to let the boy do it whenever he wanted (or Kipp would pester him to death).
But Lyre could not bring himself to sully the boy beyond that. When Kipp had found out Lyre had fucked some of the other students, he immediately wanted to try it. He'd brought it up time and again, but Lyre turned him down every time. It just felt... dirty. He'd managed to get over putting his cock in Kipp's mouth, but he just couldn't imagine fucking him in the same way he'd fucked some of the other guys. He knew he'd be too rough, too hard. Because of that day five years earlier, Kipp was special, and Lyre wanted to keep him that way as long as possible.
Thanks for reading! Be on the lookout for the third chapter soon.
If you have any feedback, let me know! My email is 48deekross@gmail.com. I'd prefer you keep any overly negative feedback to yourself, if possible, or word it in such a way that isn't hurtful. I am a person too, after all.
Until next time!