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Tadashi didn’t remember getting a tattoo, or much of the previous night for that matter. So, it was quite a shock when the evidence if his newly acquired ink stared back at him through the bathroom mirror that morning. Despite the enormous hangover darkening the edges of his vision, he could clearly see a black line of an unknown pattern peaking shyly through a white, palm-sized gauze bandage on his right pectoral.
What had he done? He searched through his pounding brain, but could only recall small, broken pieces of what had transpired the night before. He remembered drinking with the gang. He had complained incessantly about Hiro finding him boring - (“Look, no offense big bro, but you’re kind of boring. It’s not a bad thing! You’re just kind of a nerd, is all.”) - and GoGo drunkenly suggesting that he get a tattoo to prove Hiro wrong. It must have seemed like a good idea at the time, because there it was, and by the size of the pained area, it was a fairly noticeable one.
Tadashi groaned. He used his fingers to massage his aching temples. He wasn’t a drinker by any stretch of the imagination, and he regretted allowing himself to indulge. He just wanted to “cut loose”, “have fun”, and for what? To prove Hiro wrong? Why did he even care so much to begin with?
His heart knocked against his ribcage as if to announce itself. Oh, yeah, that’s why.
Tadashi gazed away from his shame to examine the rest of himself. His hair was mussed, dark shadows pooled underneath his bloodshot eyes, and a stubbly growth peppered his jaw and chin. As he rubbed his face, he decided that he needed a shower. Wait, can he even take one? What were the proper measures of taking care of a new tattoo?
Tadashi groaned again before padding quietly out of the bathroom. He slowly, deliberately stepped onto the hardwood floor of his bedroom, careful to not make enough of a ruckus to awaken his little brother (although that was exceedingly difficult to do, nowadays). He sidestepped passed his divider and tip-toed to the side of his headboard in order to swipe the flashing phone that was sitting neatly atop of it.
When he clicked the phone on, the screen obnoxiously displayed that it had received an unread text message from GoGo. Tadashi wiped a hand down his face; did he dare to look?
After only the briefest of hesitations, his trembling thumb tapped on the notification. The message read: “Have fun last night? :P Don’t worry, my friend only uses sterile needles, so it’s all cool.”
Tadashi chastised himself; he hadn’t even thought of that! It was only by the sheer good humor of his friend that the consequences of his actions would only be skin deep. He silently vowed never to allow himself to drink again, while reprimanding himself with the same metaphorical breath.
He quickly went to his internet app and searched for the proper procedures for tattoo care. Apparently, showering was encouraged, but only after forty-eight hours of getting a new tattoo. Gross, no, Tadashi thought to himself. After a moment of contemplation, he decided that the best course of action would be to place a plastic wrap over the bandage to prevent it from getting wet.
But, how was he to do that without Aunt Cass noticing? Surely, she was up and about by now. He could simply wait until she was in the cafe. Then, what about Hiro? Hiro would surely notice that his habitual morning routine was off and question him on it. He was infamously known to notice more with less empirical evidence.
Tadashi was rudely pulled from his panic induced thoughts with a loud song of “Good Morning!” that originated from the other side of the divider. His head throbbed in response.
“I hate you,” Tadashi hissed under his breath as his little brother made his way passed the sliding rice paper wall.
Hiro nearly leapt from the entrance of his room and onto his bed, creating an unpleasant thud that reverberated through the elder Hamada’s skull.
“It’s such a beautiful day!” Hiro continued on musically. He bounced on the ancient springs of his older brother’s mattress. To Tadashi, the sound was akin to nails being dragged on a chalkboard. To a whimsically smiling Hiro, however, it seemed like the sweetest of music. “We should open all the windows and let the sunshine in, what do you say, big bro?” Without waiting for a response, the younger man scrambled over the ocean of comforters on Tadashi’s bed to sail for his window.
Tadashi growled. He reached out and took a hold of Hiro’s ankle before he could reach the blinds. He yanked, causing Hiro to breaststroke backwards through the waves of his blankets until the curve of his body spilled over the edge of his bed. Tadashi attempted desperately to avoid looking at the perfect ass presented to him, clothed only in grey boxerbriefs, but it was for naught.
Mercifully, Hiro rolled until he was laying on his back. His expression betrayed utter amusement until the line of his sight landed on the bandage situated against Tadashi’s chest. His eyebrows tightened and his smile slacked. “What’s that?” Hiro asked.
Tadashi didn’t get a chance to do much more than fidget uncomfortably before the younger Hamada sat up so quickly that his impaired eyes almost didn’t catch the movement.
“D-Did you get a tattoo?” Hiro asked with a rush of breath. His cheeks flared against his unabashed grin. A sparkle was clearly evident in his eyes. It almost looked as though he were bestowed with a gift.
Tadashi felt uncomfortable by the sudden flurry of attention. He looked away. His hand crept up to the back of his neck to rub at its heated skin. “Well, about that -”
Hiro interrupted his flabbergasted brother with an exclamation of “That’s sick!” He bounced off the bed and landed between his brother’s feet.
Tadashi was uncomfortably cognizant of how close Hiro was. The boy shared every molecule of personal space he could possibly have to give. He could feel his younger brother’s warmth radiate over his bare chest and midsection. The ghost of his breath landed just to the side of the bandage, causing the skin it touched to prickle pleasantly. Tadashi felt his heart skip several beats while something in his tummy fluttered for escape.
Hiro’s honey-brown orbs peaked shyly through his long, dark bangs.“Well, what is it? Can I see?” he asked with a low quiver of excitement in his voice.
Tadashi gulped as he felt tingles of sensation dance over his spine. “I, uh, actually don’t know what it is.”
“That drunk, huh?” Hiro chuckled; the sound swam beautifully through Tadashi's veins. He reached out and gingerly placed the pads of his fingers on the top edge of the bandage. “Well, let’s find out together, shall we?”
Tadashi nodded hesitantly. “Be careful, though, it still hurts,” he warned with a slight, if precautionary, hiss.
“Relax, you big baby,” Hiro assured snidely. In a tinier voice, he whispered, “I’m not dumb.”
Before Tadashi could reassure the younger man that he didn't think him unintelligent, Hiro gingerly rolled the bandage away from Tadashi’s skin until only the bottom edge clung to him. The boy’s eyes widened and he brought a hand over his gaping mouth.
Tadashi could feel his muscles tense with apprehension. There was very little that could render Hiro speechless, and he feared to see what permanent etching on his skin horrified the boy this much. Regardless, he had to know, if only to assess the amount of laser removal necessary to fix his situation. With a deep breath and steeled resolve, he looked down.
Tadashi’s features mirrored Hiro’s, but not out of horror, but pure surprise. The tattoo was of an intricate feather quill seemingly in the finishing stages of writing the name "Hiro Hamada" in precise Kanji lettering. The ends of the plumage seemed to explode in a soft burst of black silhouettes of swallows or another such small bird. The linework was perfect. The art was utterly beautiful, and something he would have once admired on someone else.
Tadashi spared a glance at his brother. Hiro's eyes shimmered beautifully in the light that managed to stream through his blinds. The hand that was once over his mouth came to rest just next to the masterpiece on his flesh. "Tadashi," he breathed, "This - this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me."
Before Tadashi could call his awareness back to him, Hiro used his free palm to pull down on his neck until they were at even level. The younger Hamada then pressed his lips against his brother’s in a hard kiss.
Tadashi gasped into the rough affection. There were so many emotions that demanded to be processed all at once: shock, fear, happiness, love. But, the tip of Hiro's tongue, which danced playfully on his bottom lip, was determined to melt away his brain and rush lava through his bone marrow. The sudden heat burned away anything that wasn't absolute lust for the smaller form against him. He found himself unsuitable to think about the consequences of his actions, and allowed the power of his want to force him to wrap his arms around Hiro's back, trapping him in his embrace.
The younger brother moaned as their tongues met through the seam of their lips. The sound sent Tadashi's boiling blood south and his precaution to the wind. He found his hand winding through Hiro's long strands to press him even closer.
After several heartbeats, Hiro was the first to pull away. He broke away from the embrace, only to fall gracefully onto Tadashi’s bed. He spread his legs and beckoned his brother with a wave of his hand to join him.
Seeing his little brother so debauched and willing jump-started the logic portion of his brain. He pushed back his instinct to mount and take, and stopped. No, wait, this wasn’t right. He shouldn’t know what it was like to see Hiro spread before him like a platter of delicacies. He shouldn’t see his eyes clouded with dark desire and his lips curved into a playful, seductive smirk. He really, definitely, shouldn’t take notice of how flushed his face was or how messy his kitten-soft hair became from his touch.
“What are you waiting for?” Hiro asked, his voice pitched an octave lower than Tadashi liked. “You want this, I know you do.”
Tadashi growled against himself. He did, oh dear God, he did want this so bad. Ever since he caught himself admiring how well Hiro had grown up and how gracefully he had filled out over the years, Tadashi couldn't help but fantasize about that very moment.
Did Hiro even know what he was consenting to? He was of age, that was for certain, but that didn’t mean he had the maturity to handle the kind of relationship they would have, one of secrets and shame. Could he subject the person he loved the most to that? No, no he couldn’t. He couldn’t hurt him like that.
“No, Hiro, we can’t -” Tadashi sounded as though he were begging, and by the way Hiro’s smirk grew, the younger man was not perturbed by his words. If anything, he seemed even more amused. There was something of a challenge that brightened behind his eyes.
“Tadashi-” Hiro began softly, though his words had a slick edge to them. It was the same kind of predatory calm Tadashi would have expected from a demon who was bartering for souls. “-I've been giving you signals for years now. I want this too, believe me.”
The elder Hamada was taken aback. Years? When had that happened. He wracked his mind for the answers that wouldn’t come. Had he really been that oblivious?
Before Tadashi could think too much more on the subject, Hiro sat up and took a hold of Tadashi’s wrist. He gently coaxed Tadashi to kneel between his legs with a pull. “Come on,” Hiro whispered against his elder brother’s mouth, sending a tingling sensation from his lips straight to his groin, “You’ve already made one bad decision, what's another?"
What was another, indeed? Tadashi thought as his brother wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. How could he argue with that kind of logic?
-
One bad decision led to another, and to another, and to another, until eventually Tadashi was eight inches deep inside of his lover. It felt so good, too good. The pulsing, warm wetness around his cock was pure ecstasy. Though he only allowed himself to rock gently inside of his brother, he felt himself begin to reach the precipice of his pleasure all the same.
Hiro, on the other hand, looked contemplative, as though he wasn’t quite sure if it felt good or not. It was enough for Tadashi to falter, if momentarily, and ask him if he was okay. Hiro assured him that he was fine with a smile and a nod, but after several moments of watching that same unsettling look flicker over his face, Tadashi stopped his movements.
“What’s wrong?” the elder Hamada asked gently. He palmed his little brother’s flaming cheek; his thumb rubbed a soothing line over the curve of his face.
Unexpectedly, Hiro burst into a fit of giggles. “Geez, Tadashi,” he cried through his obnoxious snorts, “You’re such a cheeseball! I didn’t think you would be so stereotypical!”
Tadashi’s eyes narrowed at the boy. A flare of annoyance burned in his coiling stomach. “What do you mean?” he asked with a sour slant to his question.
“You’re just so - you, I mean, I thought you would finally lose control when we got to this point, but you’re so -”
“Boring?” Tadashi supplied with a bitter snarl. The word was still boldly inscribed in the deepest part of his insecurities, and Hiro’s laughter only served to illuminate it like a neon sign. While Tadashi wouldn’t say he was angry, or even hurt, he did feel something unpleasant settle itself inside his skin. It was something akin to determination, though it was tainted with something dark.
Hiro’s face softened minutely. His childish grin remained on his face, but his eyebrows knitted together. His hooded eyes stared deeply into Tadashi’s. “Hey! There’s nothing wrong with -”
Tadashi interrupted his brother’s soothsaying with a heavy growl. He pulled out from Hiro’s warmth without much care, causing the boy to yelp. Tadashi leaned in over the crook of Hiro’s shoulder and placed his lips against the shell of his ear. “On your knees,” he commanded with a snarl that promised so many heinous pleasures. The elder Hamada could feel the boy shiver beneath him.
Tadashi lifted himself from his lover, giving him enough room to do as was instructed. Hiro scrambled to get on his hands and knees, presenting himself in front of his brother. The older man lifted himself on his knees before lining himself up with his little brother's puckered entrance. He teased it with the tip of his cock, relishing Hiro's impatient whine.
Just as Hiro turned his head to voice his complaints, Tadashi pushed the entirety of his length inside with one, well-placed thrust. Hiro stifled his shout by burying his head in the mattress. Regardless, Tadashi felt bliss pool over the base of his spine as he took gratification in the muffled sound.
Tadashi stripped himself of all precaution. This was what Hiro wanted, and who was he to deny his beautiful baby brother anything? He wore a devilish smirk as he snapped his hips back and forth, over and over again, only keeping in mind to hit the spot that made Hiro tighten and sob beneath him. It felt absolutely, breathtakingly amazing. Hiro’s slick heat was overpowering, sending waves upon waves of satisfaction to crash over him.
The sight of Hiro’s fingers clenching at the sheets below him while his toes curled drove Tadashi crazy. His whimpers, moans and mewls demanded that his elder brother continue his ministrations, if only harder and faster, bringing the squirming teen ever closer to the edge. The room became polluted with the obscene noises of Tadashi’s grunts and their skin clapping where it harshly met.
Too soon, Tadashi felt himself come undone. He leaned forward and took a fistful of his brother’s hair in his hand. He pulled until Hiro’s head snapped up from where it was buried in his comforter. Tadashi trailed harsh nips up his lover’s slick neck to his ear. There, he commanded Hiro to “come” with a harsh rush of breath.
The younger Hamada gasped. He quaked, tightening around his brother, who spilled deeply inside of him.
As Tadashi came down from his high, and relished the way his brother chuckled through his pants, he resolved to allow himself to make more brash decisions in the future.