Eeping Out Those Dar Thoughts

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional incest or fictional incest content.

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Keeping Out Those Dark Thoughts

I.

My head was throbbing as I awoke in the darkness, sitting up in my bed and squinting to clear my blurred vision. I stared at the window blinds that bent and swirled slightly from my adjusting eyes. It was still pitch black outside. And boy, was I thirsty as shit.

I hobbled out of my room and towards the bathroom, stopping by to unload a fierce torrent of piss. I knew I had hit the mark from the splashing and gurgling sounds, which pierced the gentle blanket of silence draped over the entire apartment. I swore I heard a strange noise coming from my little brother's room. I made a mental note to investigate it after I went to the kitchen. Filling a glass of water and guzzling it down, I perked my ears and heard a hushed mewling emanate from his bedroom.

I stopped in front of his door and pressed my ear up against the hollowed wood material. He was groaning a bit, and it was occasionally interrupted by his ragged breaths as he gasped lightly for some air. My knuckles paused just before knocking on his door. My face reddened at the thought of walking in on him pleasuring himself.

I started renting this place about two years ago when I moved into the city after finding a job at the local sanitation department. It wasn't exactly the most interesting or gratifying work, but it was as good of a position as I could get with my public administration degree and it also payed pretty decently as well. Harper was living with our parents until he got accepted into a college near here. While he didn't seem happy about it at first--bemoaning the fact that he had to share a roof with his older brother--he relented to Mom and Dad's wishes and began staying in my apartment's spare bedroom to save money.

Harper was a rather shy person and kept mostly to himself, spending most of his time outside of classes in his room gaming online with a few of his friends from school. His face was sort of pale and soft, as was the rest of his somewhat chubby body. Harper wore these glasses with square, thick black frames and tied his brown hair up in a long ponytail. He had this classic nerdy look, but even as his brother, I had to admit that he was undeniably cute. While I had no knowledge on makeup or the like, I wondered if he also touched up his feminine facial features at times in the morning.

I wasn't sure if he was gay or something. I've never seen him talk with women in a non-friendly way or go on any dates. Hell, I wasn't sure if I was gay or not, though I watched my fair share of both gay and straight porn.

Now, the sounds were growing a little louder and much clearer. No, I really doubt he was touching himself in there. It sounded like Harper was sobbing quietly to himself in despair. My brotherly instincts kicked in and I knocked quickly prior to opening the door. I stepped into the pitch black room, and could barely discern a shaking mass under his bed covers from the faint light of the hallway nightlight.

"Hey......Harper...are you ok?," I said gently, trying not to startle him.

I saw him wiggle and pop his head out from underneath the heavy blanket. His hair was messy and his eyes were puffy and glistening with tears. I sat next to him--the weight of my body sinking into his spongy mattress--and rubbed his back through the covers.

"What's wrong? Anything bothering you?......You know you can tell me anything, right? I'm always here if you need someone to listen."

Harper looked pretty rough. His eyes were downcast and he stared at our lengthened shadows projected onto the carpet.

"It's--it's just that...," he said, halting mid sentence and retreating back inside his wooly den.

I wasn't going to stop now. He was in a tough spot and I can feel a real breakthrough ahead of us. I was going to support my little brother and make some real emotional progress with him. We were so close back then and I felt us drift apart when we became teenagers. Falling to my side and resting my head on top of his unused pillow, I snaked out an arm and lifted the covers to expose his face once more. He was all flustered and slammed his eyes shut as he threw the blanket down once more to hide himself.

"Fine," I said, accepting his self defense mechanism, "But can you at least speak to me through it?"

I waited in silence, sensing that he was choosing his words carefully.

"I--I...I can't help but think these dark thoughts at night when I'm all alone. It just really hurts......I know my life is easy and all...but my heart just really fucking hurts and I don't know what to do about it," Harper whispered, his voice quivering.

Shit, what kind of deep stuff was bothering my brother and making him suffer this much? Had he been battling with depression? Or was he getting bullied at school? Was he struggling with his identity? I clenched my fists at whatever or whoever was hurting him, only loosening my grip so that I could cradle the back of his head and stare at him through the dense cloth. I needed to be a source of strength for him--a shoulder he could reliably lean on.

"I don't want to force you to tell me anything--and you know that I'm always here for you--still... maybe I can help you more if you explain to me what exactly is hurting you."

"I'm so alone, Lane. My body...my heart...they yearn for the touch of another. But I'm so fucking pathetic. I don't think anybody would ever want to be with me or find me attractive..."

I see. It's a love and self image type of issue. Honestly, I was at a loss for words since those were things that I didn't have much experience in. Sure, I worked out a lot and my friends and family always tell me that I'm good looking and should go hit the dating scene, but the thing was that I had never dated before either and had no idea where to start. I had never loved anyone romantically and I wasn't completely set on my sexuality.

I slid my hand down and squeezed the back of his neck, trying to reassure him while I conjured a response to his predicament.

"I totally understand those feelings. They...can be so hard to deal with," I affirmed, pausing for a moment to appreciate our synchronized breaths, which fortified each other in opposition to the looming hopelessness of our late night sorrows.

Continuing, I added, "I want to be there for you--to be your rock, like old times. I don't know what happened between us in the past, but I want to put it behind us, ok? Please...if there's anything I can do to help...you need to tell me."

"Sleep with me."

"What...," I said, hoping I misheard him and awaiting clarification.

Harper poked his head out and pouted at me, asking, "Can I sleep with you, like old times then?"

I wasn't sure if that was a good idea. We were adults now and the dynamic between us was undoubtedly, drastically different. I didn't want to admit it, but there was a sort of charged energy between him and I--Harper being so adorable and dependent and me being the stronger and masculine one. Did I just call him adorable? Well, when combined with my mounting exhaustion of having my sleep interrupted, his teary eyes and wetted cheeks made it impossible for me to deny his request. I had to accept if it was the only thing I could do to soothe him. I gave in, scooting closer to him and pulling the blanket over my body as well.

"No! What are you doing?," Harper suddenly yelped, sitting up and jumping out of the bed.

He wore an oversized black t-shirt and a pair of white and purple striped panties--which barely peeked out from below the dangling hem of his shirt and I recognized it from all the times I had to do laundry for us. His soft form wobbled as he got up, and I was hypnotized by the wiggling flesh of his supple hips. My already delirious mind was thoroughly confused.

"Isn't this what you wanted--"

"No! We're sleeping in your bed, dummy. It has to be yours," he insisted, cutting me off.

I was seriously too tired to ask questions at this point, so I languidly shuffled to my room and sensed his lighter footsteps trailing mine. I fell on top of my mattress as if I were a lazing starfish--my limbs outstretched and face turned towards the ceiling. Harper climbed in beside me and enveloped us in the warm sheets as his arms traced the contour of my chest and settled into its final position of being wrapped around my left arm. One of his legs moved over mine and ended up below my crotch, his plump thigh dragging across my left leg and pressing against it.

I hated to admit it, but the close contact of our contrasting bodies just felt so right. He was tender and I was firm. He was cushioned and delicate while I was rigid and unyielding. I could smell his strawberry shampoo and the subtle, natural scent of his smooth skin. It was soothing, yet invigorating at the same time as it fueled the fire in my burning groin. Even the simple sensation of his gentle breath blowing against the side of my bicep drove me mad in a manner I couldn't explain.

"You better not be perving out on me while I'm asleep...," he cooed, nestled up cozily and half awake.

I prayed that Harper wouldn't be able to feel my heart pounding through my chest. I've never fantasized or looked at him sexually in any way. But all of a sudden, he became the one desire of my life--the one person I wanted and truly cared about. Blood was rushing to my dick. I pitched a visible tent under the covers and I broke out into a cold sweat. Fuck, what if he saw my arousal and throbbing boner and was completely disgusted at what a lecherous older brother I was, lusting over his little brother during an innocent cuddle session? Would he cast me out of his life and tell our parents? I felt a sharp pang in my heart. It was a level of pain that was completely alien to me. If he left, who would take him in and watch over him? Would anything be able to replace the emptiness in me he would leave behind?

I looked to him nervously and was overwhelmed with relief, seeing that he was fast asleep and snoozing quietly into my side. I stared into the ceiling with weary eyes, realizing it was going to be a long night of unintentional teasing for me and that heading to work in the morning was going to suck. He shifted against me throughout the night and mumbled unintelligible words.

"No one else...only me, Lane," I thought I heard him mumble in his sleep.

A wetness seeped into the sleeve of my shirt. Harper was drooling all over me. Whereas any normal brother would have been disgusted, my wicked mind could only imagine the taste of his spit or the slickness of his saliva coating my straining cock. Then, without warning, a slight bulge jutted against my lower thigh. Did he just pop a boner too? I was half asleep at that point and didn't know if it was real. I wrapped an arm around his torso to hold him close and drifted off into slumber, content with my brother's happiness.

II.

The alarm on my phone rang noisily and I jolted like a solider who was awoken in the trenches by the heavy thuds of artillery fire. Strands of the yellowed, early morning radiance penetrated the window blinds and found their way into my direction. I wiped my crusty eyes and saw that it was already eight o'clock. Fuck me.

"Euunnnnnnn--nnnnnnnnnnnn, turn it off!," Harper complained, swiping his hand in the air and thrashing about, trying to go back to sleep.

I set my alarm off--sparing him--and put my phone in my pocket as I got up and out of bed.

"Lannnnneeee, don't leave. Stay with me...," he pleaded, his eyes still closed.

Harper was sleeping on his side and the bedsheets were tangled between his exposed, shapely legs. I trailed my eyesight along his succulent frame until I landed upon his pretty feet, whose arches were slender and toes were painted a pleasant, glossy shade of dark gray. I returned to his head and stared at the stray locks of hair that covered his rosy cheeks and fluttered lightly from his rhythmic exhalations.

He was just like his old self again, like when I would have to get up earlier in the morning than him for middle school as kids. He would complain when I would leave and throw a fit when our parents woke him up for school.

"You know I have to go...," I said, a distant look on my face after reminiscing about my youth, "You sleep a little longer, alright? I'll call you later when you have to get up for classes."

I knew that he should set his own alarms, and that any responsible adult should be capable of waking up on their own. But I secretly enjoyed his reliance on me. It reinforced my position as his protector. These small things made me feel like an older brother again.

I walked to the bathroom and felt something sticky on my leg. I pulled on my boxers and the fabric peeled off my thigh with a crumbly rip--the cloth having been stuck to my skin because of a crusty stain. What the hell? Did I have wet dream last night? It was highly unlikely given the positioning of the stain on the side of my boxers--far away from my dick--and the fact that I never got wet dreams to begin with. I checked inside my briefs and found the tip of my penis to be dry and unsullied.

There was no way...did Harper? I couldn't tell if it was intentional or not on his end but I suppressed the thought as my hardness stirred in my underwear and my stomach grew queasy. I shook my head profusely, shaking off the idea that my little brother had humped my leg while I was asleep until he blew his load. It made me so horny and uneasy that I lost track of time as I ogled the dried patch of cum in front of the mirror. Checking my watch, I realized I was going to run late at this rate, and so I hurriedly finished my routine and threw on my clothes before running out the door.

The day at work was long and unpleasant. I spent the entire time leading the sewer overflow response to a major sewage leak in southern sector of the city that had been plagued by blockages and outdated infrastructure. I got home late and ordered takeout on the way back. I talked with Harper about his graphic design courses and my work projects as we ate. Pretty soon, he retreated to his room to study, game, or whatever and I loafed around on the couch before it was getting kind of late and I got ready to hit the sack.

I flicked off the lights in my room and collapsed face first into the bed. I laid in the darkness for a while, mulling over the previous night's occurrences and nearly falling asleep. Sensing light enter the room from the hallway, I cracked my eyelids open--finding Harper standing in my doorway with his arms wrapped tightly around the pillow in his chest. He took a couple of small steps into the room until we could see each other more clearly. His hair was done up in a messy bun and he changed into a pair of skin-tight, light gray boy shorts alongside his usual black tee. I swore I could barely make out a small lump in the shorts from his small cock and balls.

"Can I sleep with you again?......You know, to keep out the dark thoughts with your company?," he asked meekly, twiddling his thumbs in front of the pillow.

He didn't face me as he posed his question, looking into the corner of the room, but he glanced over at my eyes once I kept quiet for a short moment. I wasn't sure of what to tell him. Thinking back on his alluring frame and the "gift" he left behind for me during the night--which seemed to effortlessly flood my mind incessantly with gay, incestuous thoughts that ashamed me to no end--the same mix of arousal and unease made itself known inside me once more.

Harper wanted to sleep and cuddle with me because he needed love and affection. And for me to get so hot off of his body and his touch--I was sickened by the prospect of me, the older brother that he was supposed to trust and depend on, taking advantage of him while he was in a vulnerable state. I couldn't assume that he was also attracted to me. From my perspective, he would always be my innocent brother in spite of whatever may have transpired last night.

I considered myself a confident leader and had no problem whatsoever speaking publicly in front of my employees or large crowds of citizens. Yet, a large lump formed in my throat as I tried to croak out a response to his vexing request.

"We, um......I think--it would be a bad idea for us to continue sharing the same bed."

Harper shot me a dirty look that I've never quite seen before on his face. His eyebrows twinged and his nostrils flared slightly upon hearing my denial. Was I suddenly scared of him? Why would I be scared of Harper?

"And why--would--it--be a bad idea?," he asked tersely, almost spitting out his last words.

I sighed and rubbed my forehead with my sweaty palm, pulling my hand further up and rustling it through my unkempt hair.

"It's probably best that we don't sleep together again. I mean...god...Harper, we're not kids anymore and you're my younger brother......I mean, what would people think if they saw us? They'd probably think we were some weird perverts or that I was a crazy predator manipulating you......"

His heel thudded into the carpet as Harper stomped his foot in frustration. He rushed up to my bedside and stared me down as I propped myself up on my elbows against the wooden bed frame.

"Who cares about what other people think? It shouldn't fucking matter to them if I want to be with you within the privacy of our home. It's our house, and our lives. Plus, don't you try to tell me that you didn't enjoy it too," he said, his chest visibly rising and falling in agitation.

Maybe it wasn't as innocent as I had made it out to be. Cause the way Harper was talking about it, he made it sound like we were dating and living a secret life together or something. I desperately tried to squash the undeniable attraction I felt towards him that was blossoming in my heart. I was losing the internal struggle and it was so nauseating for me.

"Uh--we...," I sputtered, equally irritated by his persuasiveness and my own crumbling inhibitions, "We just can't sleep together. And that's that."

I led him out the door and shut it forcibly behind him. I slumped with my back against the door and buried my head into my knees. I didn't know what else I could do. I was compelled into picking between my brother's happiness and innocence. And with my moral and brotherly instincts kicking in, I couldn't do anything but to reject him. I could hear him stomp away and slam his door. I knew he felt hurt and betrayed, and the thought of him crying alone in aguish was absolutely agonizing.

III.

I was running late again for work the next morning since I didn't get much quality sleep and slept through the first few minutes of my ringing alarm. I hurriedly drank my coffee while buttoning up my light blue dress shirt and fastening the maroon tie. Stuffing my laptop and a number of documents into my leather briefcase, I closed my bedroom door and took two steps down the hallway prior to stopping by Harper's room.

"Harper?," I softly called out.

No response. He was either sleeping or still mad me--both probably being true. My knuckles hung in the air, though I decided against knocking on his door and I tried twisting his doorknob to watch him in his sleep and perhaps issue him an apology. No give. Harper had locked his door shut. He never locked his door since moving in with me. I knew I had seriously fucked up and did my best to forget it as I made my usual commute to the office.

I struggled to focus at work and my attention slipped each time I tried to think of a way to make it up to Harper. I told my boss I would be heading out early to meet some family, and he agreed in light of my perfect attendance and satisfactory performance on yesterday's sewage containment project. I wanted to be home earlier today so that I could spend some quality time with Harper and cook him up a nice dinner--his favorite, which was a hearty plate of mac and cheese, baked sweet potatoes, and some corn bread to finish it off. It was something our grandmother used to make us when we were younger. I never quite learned her cooking techniques, so I hoped that my online recipes and store-bought canned biscuits would suffice.