
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/934253.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Richard_Brook/Jim_Moriarty
  Character:
      Jim_Moriarty, Richard_Brook
  Additional Tags:
      Sex, Underage_Sex, Teenagers, it's_not_really_rape
  Series:
      Part 1 of Hope_for_the_hoplesss
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-20 Words: 2085
****** My secrets are better then yours ******
by ProfessorPlum
Summary
     When we are ten Jim tells me that he’s going to fly away someday. Not
     in an airplane but that he’s going to grow wings and fly away just
     like a bird. I know it’s not true and I think he does too but I
     pretend that he’s going to leave and I cry. Jim always hugs me when I
     cry and makes me feel happy again.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
 
 

When we are seven, Jim makes it very clear who is the boss out of the two of
us. Though he is only a few minutes older, he makes it seem like the minutes
are years. He always assures me that he is the smart one and that I am the
following orders one. We make a good team that way, catching bugs for Jim to
keep in jars and chasing birds to watch them fly away. It makes him happy when
I do what he tells me, and I like it when he's happy. He holds my hand
sometimes when we run at the birds even though I think it's mean to scare them
away. I do it anyways.


When we are ten Jim tells me that he’s going to fly away someday. Not in an
airplane but that he’s going to grow wings and fly away just like a bird. I
know it’s not true and I think he does too but I pretend that he’s going to
leave and I cry. Jim always hugs me when I cry and makes me feel happy again.  


We are twelve and I have a secret girlfriend, her name is Rosie. I hold her
hand and I give her a kiss on the cheek sometimes and she laughs. Jim is the
only one who knows my secret and doesn’t like it, he stays in his room and
calls me bad things and says I’m stupid for thinking she likes me. I don’t talk
to Rosie after that and I think she’s not my girlfriend anymore. Jim spends
more time with me when I don’t talk to her, and says he’s sorry for calling me
names. He says that I don’t need a girlfriend that he and I will always be
together then he kisses me on my cheek.


At thirteen my voice drops too low to be in choir at our church anymore but Jim
has to stay even though he hates it and just mouths the words anyways. I know
he doesn’t want to go to church with me and mum. Jim hates it. He says that god
doesn’t love him and he’s happy about it. I don’t say anything because thought
I want to be like Jim I don’t want god to hate me too. We are nearly fifteen
before he finally gets out of choir.


Soon after our fifteenth birthday mum gets sick. The really bad kind of sick.
Jim says he doesn't care, just shrugs when I ask him if he thinks she'll be
okay, but I know he's sad deep down. She has to stay in the hospital for weeks
at a time and has friends check on us every now and then to bring us food and
say how she’s doing well. Jim likes mum being gone because now he can sneak out
at night. I don’t like when he does it, because he leaves me alone in our house
and Jim and I have always been together, even before we were born.


“Lock the door when I leave," Jim tells me as he put on his blue jacket, the
one that is slightly too small for me. Jim has developed an unusual eating
habit as well as a strange sleeping pattern. His arms are too thin and next to
him I must look fat. I try not to eat dinner so I can match him but I get too
hungry. I am taller too, only by a few centimeters but we look less and less
like each other every day.


"Okay," I say with a nod because I have no other choice in the matter. I sleep
in Jim's bed when he leaves so I can feel like he’s there too.


I suppose everyone leaves eventually. Our father left when Jim and I were just
babies, our mother is in the hospital except for the rare occasions when she
can come home for the weekend. And now Jim is leaving almost every night. I am
the only one who has not left. It makes me think something might be wrong with
me for not flying away like the rest of the birds.


Jim still doesn't have any friends. I have friends at school that Jim doesn't
know about because he is a year ahead of me and would no doubt get mad if he
knew about them. He gets more affectionate when I do see him, and I think it
must be because mum has stopped coming home on the weekends because she is too
sick. Jim says she's going to die but I think she might get better still. "Hope
is a lie," he tells me but I try not to listen to him. He kisses me on the lips
sometimes like my secret girlfriend does at school. I kiss him back sometimes
because I think he must need me and I don't like when he leaves during the
night. Sometimes he isn't home for days and I always think he won’t come back
but he does.  He always comes back.


Sometimes Jim gets too affectionate. He will climb over me on the night he
stays home and kiss me awake. He will palm me through my trousers and I feel
bad for thinking it feels good. I tell him that we're brothers and he can't do
that and he gets mad. I let him do it anyways because I don't want him to leave
again.


I am reading a book in bed with my back against the headboard, glancing out the
window every now and then to see the sky getting darker. I don't think Jim will
go out tonight because he seems to be on a pattern and Jim loves patterns.
Books are like friends to me, I think if only Jim read a little more he would
be happier instead of always saying he wants to die when he has nothing to do.
I hardly see him walk into my room but I look over as he climbs onto my bed and
straddles my waist. "What are you reading?" he asks in a playful voice.


"A collection of poems," I reply quietly. I think poems are lovely.


"That sounds awfully boring, Richie. Why don't we have a little fun instead?" I
don't answer as he pucks the book from my hand and leans down to kiss me. I
have become rather good at kissing since I've gotten a girlfriend. I don't see
her outside of school but Isabel and I kiss in secret. Kissing Jim is not like
kissing her however. It is familiar, almost sickeningly so. His tongue and his
lips I have seen all my life and now they and pressed against my tongue and my
lips. He rolls his hips down against my own and I give a small squeak of
discomfort. "Oh Richie, you sound like a mouse," he laughs.


I don't tell him to stop. I should. I should push him off because I know I'm
stronger and tell him that it isn't right. But I don't. Instead I let him take
off my shirt, I let him kiss me until I'm out of breath and my lips are sore
and my forehead feels sweaty because I'm nervous. I try to protest when he
reaches down to my trousers but he says, "Shush my darling. I promise you'll
like this," while pressing a finger to my lips. He undoes my trousers and gets
up. "Take them off," he tells me.


After I take off my trousers he stares at me with hungry eyes that I am afraid
to see. He slips off his own trousers and I stare back at his thin legs. I have
seen my brother nude very many times but I have never seen him undress for me.
He tells me to take off my pants and I do with trembling hands. He tells me to
lie down and I close my eyes.


I have looked at other guys with lust before. I know it's a sin. I know that
it's bad and I would never consider acting on those thoughts that haunt me. I
have never wanted to have sex with Jim though. I have never looked at my
brother with vile intentions.


I feel the bed creak as he gets back on it. A small pop tells me that Jim is
opening something. He guilds my legs up, telling me how amazing I look in a
shushed voice as though we are in church. Before I can even consider opening my
eyes, there is a cold feeling at my arse intruding me, probing me. I whimper
and I feel a hand over my cheek before it moves down. "Shh, just relax," Jim's
voice tells me. What I now guess to be Jim's finger slides in an out of me
before there is another added.


I want to cry, it hurts, but then Jim's other hand is gripping my cock,
stroking me and I open my eyes in shock. "Jimmy, please," I say. I don't know
if I want him to please stop or please wank me off. But he doesn't stop, only
smiles. I feel Jim add another finger and before I know it they are all gone
and I can't help feeling hard in Jim's hand.


"Remember what I said. Relax," Jim reminds me and at once I know why. He is
pushing the tip of his own cock where his fingers were a moment before. I jerk
my hips wildly which only causes him to push in farther. My arse burns and I
shut my eyes as he leans closer. He's still wearing his white t-shirt and the
fabric is touching my stomach. The sounds Jim is making are far from sickening
but actually making me want more friction on my hardening member. It makes me
feel guilty for liking it. Jim's cock is covered in the same cold stuff that he
had used to prepare me. After a few minutes he starts to jerk his hips, causing
me to bite my lip to stop myself from crying out. "God fucking Christ, Richard.
You're so tight. So good." His hand is still moving at a painfully slow pace.


He moves faster though all I feel is pain and pleasure from Jim's hand. I
opened my eyes again. Jim is rocking back and forth above me, driving his cock
in and out. His eyes are closed like an angle and the sweat from his skin makes
the t-shirt stick to his chest. The sight is almost beautiful, and suddenly I
like the fact that he is doing this to me. I want him to be proud of me.


I've wanked off many times before in secret but Jim can cum a lot faster. It is
a very strange feeling; his cock is buried deep in my arse when he does. I'm
not sure I like the sensation but it’s soon replaced by a warm feeling in the
pit of my stomach while Jim keeps his hand clenched around my cock. His fingers
rub the pre-cum over my sex whether intentionally or not and soon I am cumming
over his hand and my chest and Jim's face is flushed but grinning down at me.


I sigh and shudder as Jim pulls away, disconnecting us. He falls beside me on
my bed with the same lazy grin he wears when he is extremely tired. I curl up
in a ball with my arse burning and waiting for Jim to move closer to me which
he does a few minutes later. I'm not sure I want him to touch me now. "I love
you Richie," he says in a content tone.


"I love you too," I mutter, though I know I don't mean it the way Jim does. We
walk together to the bathroom and sit in the tub so my back is pressed against
his chest as we wait for the warm water to fill up the bath and wash our
bodies.  I want to cry, I don't feel well but it does feel pretty good when Jim
is holding me close to him. I breathe deep breaths and close my eyes as Jim
splashes water over my chest whispering things to me. How wonderful I am. How
sexy I look when I cum. I fall asleep in the water, listening to my brother's
soothing voice and hoping he won't leave me.







To eventually be continued...
End Notes
     I'm no doubt getting better at writing smut. I'm also getting better
     at re-reading my work to check for typos. I plan to add Sebastian
     later in the series so just hang in there all you hopeless shippers.
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