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Everything is smaller in Canada than in the US, Bård thinks as he pulls his big brother’s shirt off in the yellow light of the toilet and finds his neck with his lips, immediately. The last time they did this was in the backstage toilet of the Today Show in New York, and Bård finds himself missing the roominess. But he forgets the slight claustrophobia the moment he hears Vegard slipping a moan at what is his little brother’s touch in his pants—Bård’s still good with his hands.
Vegard, he’s seeing stars already. He never really valued business trips until it reached a point of sex, everywhere, every time. He loves Bård, he’s struggled with telling that for so long. In fact, he’s never managed to say it, so the second best option has been putting it into his actions. He feels Bård’s lips sucking on his neck, kissing his bare shoulder and biting his collarbones. He grabs the side of his little brother’s face hastily and kisses him hard, just trying to give a glimpse of what he feels. He can’t tell if the message gets received in its entirety, but when Bård grabs his cock sternly again, he doesn’t really care.
Bård drops down on his knees in the limited space, carefully fixes a strand behind his ear and pulls all of his brother’s pants to his ankles. He loves this, in a way. He grabs a tight grip on the base of his big brother’s cock and looks up to him. Vegard struggles to keep his eyes open – one part of him longs to keep them shut and focus on the pleasure, the other wants to see his little brother down there, on his knees for him, just for him. The first one wins the same moment Bård’s wet kisses are placed on the side of his cock.
A monitor sounds outside, but they’re listening with only half an ear. Bård’s warm, wet breath only hovers over Vegard’s cock now as he strokes it with his long fingers. It’s funny how in that moment Bård’s excitement reaches close to his brother’s level—he kind of loves giving (head) more than getting, at least when it comes to Vegard.
”—and after the next two performances they’ll get here onstage to answer what does the fox say!”
Bård’s lips close around the tip of Vegard’s cock, he sucks on it and the older man slips out a moan. “Bård—fuck!”
Bård definitely loves it. The little brother retreats and chuckles. “Don’t think that’s what they usually say.”
Vegard grabs his brother’s hair, the lower strands by his neck and groans something obscure. Bård doesn’t mind—in fact he only enjoys to be ruled by his big brother. He enjoys it especially because he knows no matter how dominant Vegard can become, the little brother will always be the one to make his legs weak and pupils dilate.
So he takes all of Vegard into his mouth, gag reflex only a faint feeling—he’s used to this. And god, maybe it’s fucked up but he loves blowing his brother so much. He keeps adjusting his hand around the base of the cock, bobs his head back – swirls his tongue around the tip, Vegard likes it so –, and forth.
“I—,” Vegard chokes out, ending it in a low groan rising deep from his guts. Bård’s so fucking good at it.
It’s almost a contest whose grip holds the tightest, Vegard’s fingers planted deep in Bård’s hair, or Bård’s hand sternly by Vegard’s hip. It could be the younger one’s, but as Vegard keeps thrusting into the depth of Bård’s pink glossy lips with a rising tempo, the big brother’s definitely winning. It’s not a secret Bård loves it when it’s all a bit too much – with a pair of tear drops in the corners of his eyes and scalp stinging with pain of the hair pulling, he fucking loves it. And he surely does not hide how much he loves to swallow when his brother comes. Vegard’s jaw drops open to a soundless scream of indescribable pleasure when it happens.
Bård recognises the climax to be over as the other man’s grip in his hair finally loosens. At this point he notices the ache in his knees, so he gets up from the cold tile floor. Only to feel Vegard’s hand behind his head again though, both hands, actually. They pull his face to his, lips together and noses bumping awkwardly. It hurts a bit, but it’s not like they care. They’ve faced worse pain on their own, so nothing that happens to them when they’re together is really invincible. Bård’s hands climb up to the sides of Vegard’s face too, and he pulls apart from the kiss.
So it’s two brothers standing too close to each other, breathing into each other’s lungs with their foreheads pressed against the other. Vegard feels a bit dizzy looking so deep into the blue eyes, so it’s probably good Bård’s holding him so tight. God knows how many miles they’re away from the place they call home in a traditional sense, but it doesn’t feel like a holiday. It’s a home, even in a dirty bathroom 30 minutes before getting on stage to sing to a few thousand people. It’s good enough.
They’re standing in the corridor dressed in those worn costumes, looking more forward to the show to be over than starting. Bård’s actually standing in front of his brother, waiting for the first beat to start playing and the staff person to tell him to run to the stage. He turns around to give that one look to his brother he always gives before a show. It’s more assuring than asking if he’s ready. Vegard nods, though for them it’s communication more than needed. The little brother turns around again, hearing the hosts’ introduction.
Vegard still looks at him – or his leather jacket covered back, in this case – keen gaze holding on and looking through to what he knows to be a genuine smile. It really is love they feel. Vegard can’t say it, maybe next time. He still owes Bård one.