
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/14031612.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      IDOLiSH7_(Video_Game)
  Relationship:
      Izumi_Mitsuki/Izumi_Iori
  Character:
      Izumi_Iori, Izumi_Mitsuki
  Additional Tags:
      Masturbation, Sibling_Incest, Sexual_Fantasy, your_basic_"don't_like
      don't_read"_situation, underage_warning_cuz_iori_is_17
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-20 Words: 1616
****** forgive me, nii-san. ******
by pansythorns
Summary
     Iori has some unfamiliar urges.
Notes
     hi probably don't read this if you don't like brother incest
     happy first post in the mitsu/iori tag yaaay hahahaha... ha...
     ^_^;
See the end of the work for more notes
Iori lays back against his pillows, struggling to find a position comfortable
enough. He flips on his side once, then again on the other, then back to the
first side again. His hands splayed still at his sides, it's practically
unbearable to handle. Iori's dick strains half-hard under the fleece of his
pajama bottoms, his eyes squeezed shut so tight that it hurts.
For the past who-knows-how-many nights, Iori has battled a primal urge he
hasn't felt often before. He previously thought that only attention-starved,
"average" teenagers got awkward boners at the most inconvenient of times, and
for the most odd of reasons. Apparently, Iori was just that kind of attention-
starved average teenager. That wasn't the worst of it, though, Iori thought it
was bad enough erecting against his will at night, at least then no one could
see him, but he's also felt needlessly horny in the middle of practice,
specifically when he watches his beloved brother attempt to perfect his kicks
and twirls.
It was normal, right? Teens popped boners all the time for absolutely no
reason, right? It has nothing to do with the fact that Mitsuki's sweat-stained
skin glistens against the dim light of the practice room, that his ass bounces
every time he jumps to do a turn, that his gentle panting echoes ever so
slightly in the emptiness of the commons as he finishes his practice
performanceー
Or, maybe, it is specifically, all of those things. The denial Iori has that he
is, indeed, lusting for his brother is overwhelming; he can't possibly want
Mitsuki like that. He certainly does not wish that Nii-san was here right now,
guiding Iori's pants down with his thumbs, whispering to him that Iori is so
dirty for being horny for his own flesh and blood.
Or, again, maybe he really does, because Iori throws resistance out the window
at that last little dreamy thought, and tugs down his pajamas, just as he
imagines Nii-san would. Embarrassment and shame burns at the tips of Iori's
ears as he props himself up against the pillows, sliding his pants down until
they pop softly over his dick, revealing it to his otherwise empty bedroom.
"Ah," he gasps, quiet as he can when his stiffening dick hits the stagnant air.
He's not sure where to go from here; sure, he's masturbated before, but the
intensity he's already feeling due to his incredible imagination picturing
Mitsuki hovering above him, legs straddled on either side of Iori's hips, is
unlike anything he's felt before. Again, the thought alone strikes him directly
in the dick, twitching as Iori's shaky hand draws near. He gives an
experimental rub against the head, breathing slow as he thumbs the slit of his
cock. Except, suddenly, it isn't him touching himself. It's Mitsuki, and
Mitsuki is looking at him as if he were an entree, eyes half lidded and wanting
in Iori's imagination.
"Ghhー" Iori bites on his lip, careful not to let any brotherly nicknames slip
out of his mouth. He can moan, quietly, that's fine, but moaning a name is too
much. It makes it too real. Iori's fantasy already feels too real enough as it
is.
He pictures himself in Mitsuki's lap, back against his chest. Iori's taller, of
course, but Mitsuki seems to find a way to make them sit comfortably together.
One of his brother's arms is wrapped snugly around Iori's waist, one is teasing
Iori's inner thigh. Mitsuki's fingers dance across his skin, tantalizing in
their effort to make their way to Iori's thrumming cock.
In reality, Iori is splayed back against his bed, hand ever-so-slightly
gripping his aching member. He closes his eyes as he pumps once, twice, and
then he hears a voice in his head, not his own.
Iori, does it feel good?
He jolts when he imagines the sweetly sinful words sliding off Mitsuki's
tongue. What would Mitsuki say, in a situation like this? Iori thinks he would
try to act manly, dominant, to take control of Iori and make him pliant in his
hands. As much as Iori hates to admit it, that's exactly what he would
beーpudding in Nii-san's grasp.
He can hear Mitsuki's soft-spoken words of encouragement ringing in his ears.
It's okay, Iori. I've got you, alright? Just relax and let Nii-san make you
feel good.
In his mind, Mitsuki is gentle, loving, and concentrated in his strokes. At the
same time, though, he's relentless, headstrong, burning. The image in Iori's
head is so vivid and strong, lost so deep in his fantasy, that it feels like
Mitsuki is really there with him.
Iori readjusts his grip, tightening his fist around his cock in the way he
imagines Mitsuki might. His dick aches and burns as he lets his eyelids fall
shut, tipping his head back slightly. Iori's own fingers slowly become
Mitsuki's, soft, petite, and ample, as he gets more and more lost in this
sinful scenario he's played out in his mind.
Haah, Iori, you're so cute. You want your Nii-san so badly, don't you? Don't be
shy, tell me what it is you want.
Iori's breath hitches as he pumps harder, fasterーneeding, aching for Mitsuki.
His dream-self tells Mitsuki he wants him, that he's always wanted him, that
lately he's been so head-over-heels, slit-his-own-throat horny for him that
Nii-san is all he can ever think about.
A-ah, really? That bad, huh? Do you want me to fuck you, Iori? Does my cute,
cute little brother need Nii-san's cock inside of him?
Despite Iori knowing those words from dream-Mitsuki's mouth are far too big for
real-Mitsuki, they still sting and make his cock grow in his hand, drops of
pre-cum leaking from the slit. Iori stills his hand for a second, switching
position. He throws himself on the bed, chest against the mattress, ass raised
high in the air. A pillow is close enough to his face that he's able to muffle
his needy, overeager moans into it, and bite it, if need be. Hesitantly
releasing his hard dick, Iori moves his hand from between his legs to the
crease of his backside, sliding down until he can rub two fingers against the
pucker of his hole.
I-Iori, putting yourself on display like that... jeez, you're getting me all
excited now.
Iori brings his hand up to his face, sliding two fingers into his hot, wet
mouth. He licks and sucks on them, saliva dripping from his chin as he
imagines, of course, they are not his own, but Mitsuki's. Throwing previous
hesitation away, Iori moans as he withdraws saliva-covered fingers from his
mouth.
"N... nii-san..."
Oh, that doesn't sound normal at all.
His voice is foreign in his own throat, the familiar, innocent nickname tainted
with his filthy, lust-coated endeavors. But it excites him, and it excites
dream-Mitsuki, too.
Sliding his wet fingers back again to the crevice of his ass, Iori's breath is
unsteady when he pushes two digits beyond the tight ring of his asshole.
"H...hah..."
Ahh, Iori, this place really wants it... you're so tight back here, has no one
ever fucked you properly before? Am I gonna get to take my little brother's
virginity?
The vivid, yet imaginary words thrum against Iori's ear drums, pounding in his
head, pounding in his neglected cock. HeーMitsukiーbegins to thrust his fingers
in and out, leaving Iori's needy hole a little looser each time. With no lube,
it's difficult for Iori to get very far, but at this rate, he doesn't think
he'll need to go as deep as he can to get the desired result. He curls his
fingers to his best effort, and barely brushes over his prostate, eliciting a
long, drawn out string of gasps from Iori's throat.
"N-nii-san, please, o-oh please..." Iori babbles as he curves his fingers once
more. His legs shiver and ache under him, as well as his cock, still hard and
dripping fluid onto the comforter. Iori'sーMitsuki'sーfingers become his dick,
hard and delving deep into Iori's ass. He imagines Mitsuki digging his blunt
fingernails into his hips, dragging Iori's ass back into him as Mitsuki meets
him into even thrusts. He imagines Mitsuki, sweat dripping from his forehead as
he pushes back his bangs to get a good look at his cock sliding in and out of
his brother's hole. He imagines Mitsuki, breathless and panting as he drapes
himself over Iori, hands grasping under to get handfuls of Iori's chest,
relentless fingers pinching and prodding at his nipples. He, finally, imagines
Mitsuki's hands traveling from his chest downward, one gripping his terribly
hard cock, pumping him in all his hot-headed intensity as he breathes filthy,
yet encouraging words into Iori's ear.
"Nnh, hah, Nii-san... I'm s-soー"
Shh, shh, Iori... you're close, I know, you can cum, okay? Go on, cum for Nii-
san.
Everything hits him at once, Iori's violent orgasm ripping through his body
like a hurricane, seemingly endless and intense. His panicked gasps echo
throughout the room, and as he milks the last drops of cum from his exhausted
dick, Iori lets himself fall flat on his belly, blankets wet and slightly
sticky underneath him.
Minutes pass as Iori recovers, and as he blinks and breathes his last heavy
breath, the entirety of his fantasy is gone. Reality hits him like a brick, and
he feels instant shame. He quickly hikes his pajama bottoms back up and hides
his reddened face in a pillow.
"Forgive me, Nii-san," Iori muffles into the pillowcase as he falls into a deep
sleep. Before he closes his eyes he makes a mental note to wash his blankets,
and to never mention any of this to anyone. Especially not to Mitsuki.
End Notes
     i wanna fucken kill myself, also don't count how many times i wrote
     "nii-san" trust me bitch i know!
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