Adult Content Warning
This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
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Summary
It’s early. He’s playing with your hair, downright paternal. It feels like an ironic charade of fatherhood, vaguely sleazy. You can see it from outside your body: Bro’s sharp shades, inverted reruns, time running backwards and unspooling, you across his lap. You’re nauseous, like that time you got heat stroke and puked down the front of Bro’s white polo shirt, it’s that same lurch in your stomach, or maybe somewhere further down – further back. It’s salt and sweat and his tacky leather gloves, his big palm, his thumb plowing furrows into your hair. You’re lax, ragdoll physics, rolling with his flat strokes across the back of your skull. You’re roadkill baking out in the sun. He’s pawing at you, rolling you over his dick, and you’re breaking down the center, brittle. It’s hard to breathe, now that you’re thinking about it, the air is too humid and whatever he gave you still has you fucked up, a bit too far to the side, slanting sideways. You can feel your heartbeat in your dick.