Touch

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TOUCH

an Ender's Game fanfic

by lordoberon

Final Chapter - - -

They sat down on the rim of the tub together, neither saying a word, as the water gushed out. When the tub was near to brimming, Peter switched it off, and as he slid down with a graceful tilt, his eyes demanded Ender join him.

Ender got into the tub with a sploosh, feeling his face flush as water dripped out over the sides of the tub. He wasn’t as careful as Peter. He looked up at his brother from beneath his eyelashes, but Peter wasn’t paying attention to him, he was reaching up to the soap.

Ender watched as Peter washed himself, soapy hands touching all over, then the washcloth was grabbed and the soapy cloth scrubbed every inch of Peter’s body. He stared as that piece of cloth got to touch every inch, gliding down over shoulders, up and down the chest, around rosy nipples to descend, down, down. There, the cloth was occupied with Peter’s cock, with his butt, with the curve of hips and the flesh of thighs, until Peter had been scrubbed from head to toe.

Ender wanted Peter to touch him more. He wanted Peter’s body against his. While Peter washed his hair, Ender looked away, trying to maintain his composure, trying to pretend he wasn’t being driven mad.

Peter was winning.

But Ender liked it. For once, he wanted to know what Peter would do next.

The washcloth was squeezed and hung up to dry. Another was taken down, and Ender automatically ducked as Peter’s hand came towards him. He gritted his teeth as his ear was grabbed, and he was pulled up against Peter’s wet body.

Ender focused on the feeling of that wet body against his, as Peter washed him. The washcloth snuck over and around every inch of him, under his arms and behind his neck, down his back. His breath hitched as the washcloth slid down and over his butt, and then around to the front. By the time Peter was done, Ender was shaking.

He watched as Peter inserted a finger into his mouth, and then his hand ghosted up Ender’s thighs. Ender shut his eyes, panting, as that wet finger got closer to him. The slimy fingertip drifted over his cock, tickling, before suddenly the warm wetness was easing into his hole. He kept absolutely still as it slid up, and then down again.

On the second time, Ender moaned, as that finger crooked a little, pushed a little harder. It hurt a bit, but just beyond the pain he could feel a rising pleasure, a wave cascading down into him. When the second finger was inserted, Ender wanted it. Peter pushed harder, deeper, and suddenly the pleasure burst within Ender, and he cried out. He lost his control, almost falling over, but Peter’s firm grip around his waist kept him standing.

Suddenly, he felt the wet slickness of Peter’s hair brushing up against his thighs, and the cold tip of a nose against his cock. Peter’s hot tongue drifted over the head of Ender’s cock, just licking, and Ender moaned. That felt so good! He wanted more.

But Peter had different ideas. His hot little tongue glided down the length of Ender’s cock, but then kept moving, moving, and then, when those two fingers were inserted again, they moved around and around, in widening circles. The circles got harder, deeper, and Ender couldn’t breathe properly anymore. He was trembling all over.

The next he knew it, the soft heat - oh so warm and soft and slippery – of Peter’s tongue was licking around the edge of the circle, and then the finger slipped out, and Peter licked into his brother’s hole. His tongue traced the edges, and then slowly slipped against the tight muscles. To the sound of Ender’s groan, of Ender’s “Peter…Oh, Peter!” his tongue explored the edges of the circle, before diving, thrusting hard up into his brother’s body.

Ender was melting. He was falling. He was a mess of sound and animal heat, of pleasure exploding in him and through him and over him. It was inside him, it was Peter’s moaning, laughing mouth, Peter’s devil tongue shoving into Ender’s hole, fucking him and fucking him.

The tongue coaxed every inch of control and self and power out of Ender. The tongue ate it all, slurped up Ender and slurped his moans to transform them into pleading, into chains that enslaved Ender, made him gasp, “Please Peter…Please! More, more…”

And just when Ender thought it couldn’t feel any better, thought Peter was all done, that tongue was moving. It wetted Ender’s thighs and then slicked the length of his cock, and then that kiss-swollen, licking sucking mouth opened, and took in the head of Ender’s cock. He watched the silvery eyes half-open, and groaned in time to Peter’s sucking, watched the dark head of hair bobbing up and down.

That tongue flicked over and around the head of his cock, pushed the tip over and over, traced the veins and riddles of his skin. And when Ender came, crying out his brother’s name in glorification and surrendering every part of himself to Peter - Peter the god - Peter drank up the power and the love of his brother, and only a few drops of come remained to drip down the devil’s chin.

THE END
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