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"Hideki," Ichiro whispered, though really it sounded about the same as everything else he said - quietly dull. It was no wonder he was ignored.
"Hideki."
Flattening his arms to his sides, Ichiro rolled onto his belly and inched forwards across the dark room, if you could call it that, refusing to leave the comfort of his futon cocoon. Hideki continued snoring, limbs splayed out from under the covers in all directions as though he were an insect that had been crushed to the stage floor, twitching every so often to complete the illusion. If it weren't for his open-mouthed snorting and occasional but thunderous sleep farts it would be easy to imagine he was the aftermath of a car accident rather than a man at rest.
"Hideki."
Having completed his journey to his brothers side, Ichiro lay, still in perfect worm form, and stared into his face. This had always been a good way to wake him when they were kids, because no one could ignore the pull of his magnetic gaze for long, but over time Hideki had built somewhat of an immunity to it and so it took some patience now.
He could wait. Perhaps. Glancing up and over Hideki's heaving form, Ichiro scanned the field again, as if Mako would have miraculously changed her ways and come back with the five thousand-someodd yen she'd taken from under the floorboards moments ago.
Having the somewhat dubious honor of being the most morally grounded between the three of them, Ichiro would likely have reported the theft anyways, but not before getting the beauty sleep he needed. This, however, was not the usually stash of Mako Cash Hideki kept for her to blow anyways (since her 'borrowing money' was such a regular occurrence despite them not really being able to part with any of their income) but one of the places Hideki stored their actual dream money, the stuff even he wouldn't touch. There wasn't much of it but it was hard earned and honest money and if they couldn't afford to part with Mako Cash they really couldn't afford to lose this.
She was already long gone now. Ichiro stared dully into the night and contemplated. There was no way he was going after it alone (it's not like she'd skedaddled with something really important like Pandaikon) but he really should probably make an effort to stop whatever was about to happen out there. Hideki mumbled something, tossing an arm over his futon cover and squeezing the material lightly.
"Hideki," Ichiro tried again, "we've got a problem."
Hideki grunted like a pig. He was drooling a little.
"Hideki."
Ichiro's eyes lidded heavily. His gaze intensified. He tried to remember exactly the way he looked at his host club guests that made them do whatever he asked. He scootched closer.
"Hideki."
His brother's fingers twitched and hope rose inside Ichiro's chest, only to fall once again when Hideki's movement turned into a half-hearted scratching and then stopped again. Frowning imperceptibly more than usual, Ichiro decided it was time to bring out the big guns.
"Hideki, Mako took your money. Our money."
"Mmmmko?"
Brows drawing together lightly, Hideki shifted again. It was working.
"Mako took our money to go play pachinko. Or buy a new face, or something."
"Mmm," Hideki grumbled, "Mako..."
"Yeah, Mako."
"Mako..."
"She's wandering the streets."
"Ma...k..."
"Alone and unprotected."
"Money...ko..."
"Wearing skimpy clothing."
"Mako!"
That was all the warning he got before Hideki rolled onto his side and, with one bear like arm, grabbed Ichiro around the waist and pulled him in close.
"Ah. Um."
Hideki, still very much asleep, pawed at him blindly. He smelled sweaty. Ichiro remained perfectly still, partially due to the fact that he was now really cocooned inside his futon, arms pinned by Hideki's strong grip and the twisted fabric.
"Mako," Hideki growled, voice tough with sleep. Ichiro was the taller brother but the angle he'd been grabbed at put him in the awkward and disadvantageous position of having Hideki's mouth right before his eyes, and his foul night breath washed over them both in the scant space between them. Baulking, Ichiro twisted a little.
"Hideki..."
"Mnuhhh."
Hideki gripped him harder and Ichiro realized time was of the essence. He rolled over, trying to get the moist feeling of Hideki's mumbling away from his delicate nose. Apparently not liking this at all, Hideki followed, grunting. Both arms grabbed him this time, pulling him back tight and securing them together, Ichiro's back to Hideki's chest.
Hot breath was now mussing the hairs on the back of his head.
Ichiro slumped. He'd never been much of a fighter.
"Mako...mmMako..."
"I'm not..."
He wondered if he should bother. Hideki's arms were like those of a big, burly gay bar bouncer. This was a man who pulled daikon from the earth as easily as said bouncer threw disorderly queens into the alley behind the bar for indecent exposure, day in and day out. Speaking of which, the sun was only a few hours away from rising. Ichiro flopped like a limp noodle and decided to wait it out. Besides, at least Hideki was warm.
"Mako... Sexy Mako..."
Perhaps a little too warm.
"Um."
Blind to his cry, Hideki wriggled a little more behind him in what Ichiro was slowly realizing was a rather rhythmic and familiar pattern.
"Mmmko..."
"Hideki..."
"Yea, I like it w'n ya say m' name..."
The situation was not good. Mako was gone, with their cash, and Hideki was oblivious. And horny. And humping his brother. Ichiro's joints went stiff, and not in the good way. He stared at the big painted backdrop to their makeshift stage and home and wondered how much longer til the sun rose. He was significantly less concerned with their cousin's whereabouts all of a sudden.
"Hideki, it's me."
"Mmmk..."
"Hideki."
Ichiro squirmed a little again, and that was all it took for Hideki's blankets to fall away entirely, leaving him in his boxers alone. Perfect. Just what the situation needed. Despite being still wrapped tight in his own bedding, Ichiro could now no longer pretend he didn't feel the hard heat of Hideki's clearly awakened cock rubbing against the small of his back.
Hmm. He wasn't kidding about having a large daikon either. Good for him.
Pulling himself away from that thought, Ichiro concerntrated on pulling himself physically away from the whole ordeal. Using his most stern and assertive voice, Ichiro steeled himself and spoke in what constituted as a shout for him.
"No..."
Predictably, there was no response. Hideki's clumsy hands were searching the futon for "Mako's" breasts. He squeezed the fabric tightly in his thick hands and Ichiro jumped, startled by how rough his brother was getting. That kind of attitude was likely what kept Mako uninterested. That and them being blood kin.
"Hideki, no..."
"Yeah, Mako!"
Hideki's grip intensified and he shifted closer, keeping Ichiro in a vice grip. He was about to object to their position again when Hideki spoke, and something changed.
"Mako," Hideki repeated, "Mmmm," and Ichiro felt, with acute sharpness, the bristles of his brother's scruffy, yet to be shaved morning beard.
It was soft. Not panda fur soft, not particularly light and floaty like his marimo balls, but there was a quality to it, a fluffy, boucniness. How it prickled and tickled the back of his neck, the peachy fuzz of a grown man's face, curls that sprung against his skin.
A shiver ran from his toes to his scalp, visibly.
"Mako, my li'l Mako," Hideki was mumbling, and with each syllable the fluff danced along Ichiro's neck, not a tease, not a touch, but a rough and rugged brush.
"Oh no."
The situation felt completely flipped. Ichiro's tired determination to escape morphed into a maidenly shock at the treatment. No soft thing had ever touched him this way before. So soft and yet so hard. So demanding.
"Oh nooo."
It was too much in what should have been all the wrong ways. Hideki's hard dick working a rut in the futon cover along his back and just barely pressing between his buttocks, his hairy hands fondling at invisible breasts, and his warm, fluffy five o'clock shadow ravishing his fragile neck. Blood rushed to Ichiro's face, marking him a fetching shade of pink.
"H-Hideki..."
"Mako!"
Ichiro was already hard. There was so much friction to help him along; the grip of his black briefs, the futon, now hopeless wound around him, Hideki's relentless grinding. The softness had rendered him completely inert, at his brother's unwitting mercy.
"Hideki... noo..."
Hideki cooed at him like a dove with a smoking problem.
"I know it'taint leg'l, Makooo," he slurred, the caress of each word sending Ichiro into a trembling frenzy, "bein' that we're kin... But I l'uv ya..."
"It's too much," Ichiro intoned, gasping. Sweat rolled down his brow, between his thighs, which he rubbed together desperately. His nipples were hard as tacks and, even if Hideki's bulky grip wasn't quite on the mark, just the touch of his night shirt against them was now almost too much. Ichiro arched as best he could in the bracket of Hideki's arms, trying to guide him closer.
"We c'n run away, tie that knot su'mere where 'ts legal..."
Ichiro couldn't keep his eyes open, mind filled with images of Hideki's swirly golden curls as they wound with his own hair, creeping down the back of his shirt. So soft...
"Hideki, oh no..." The hitch in his breath almost made his voice rise beyond a leisurely hum. He craned his neck back, trying to get more of the feeling against his throat.
"Mmmk...chro?"
"Ahhhnn~!"
Back bowed, Ichiro came with Hideki's strong arms keeping him pinned, his own hands clenched helplessly at his hips, just as Hideki fully awoke. He didn't even know it had happened at first, so wound up in the way every muscle in his lower body squeezed, the hot release, that blissful, blinding fluffy feeling inside him spreading to every extremity.
Then he was panting, malleable and doll like again, and he glanced to his side to see Hideki's wide and thoroughly horrified eyes.
"Ichiro," Hideki began, licking his lips nervously, "what are you doing'?"
Ichiro stared at him.
"Mako took our money and went shopping."
"Uh-huh."
Hideki still hadn't removed his vice grip from Ichiro's waist, unwilling to admit his own participation in this. Or that the front of his boxers was undeniably wet, that his fingers were tingling in post orgasmic shock. His throat was too thick to swallow right.
"I was trying to wake you."
"Oh."
They stared at one another. Ichiro, now completely beyond any state of possible shame he could have felt, yawned quietly. That seemed to be what it took to snap Hideki from his trauma induced daze and he dropped Ichiro like a hot cock - rock, he meant rock.
"SO Mako, eh, she, uh, she took something?"
Rubbing the back of his head as he tried to scoot away, Hideki spoke entirely too loudly. A cat spooked in a nearby garbage pile and screamed its way into the night.
"Yeah," Ichiro muttered, snuggling into his blankets with his now free arms. His underpants were becoming uncomfortably cool and sticky but he couldn't have cared much less. He'd change before work.
"M-money, you said?"
"Mmhmm."
Hideki couldn't look at him. Oh God, he was thinking, What the hell happened, what the hell did we just do, why the hell isn't Ichiro freaking the fuck out like I am?
"Well, uh. We. We'll just have to. Figure that out. When she gets back."
"Mm."
Ichiro was already asleep, still curled against Hideki's bare thigh. Torn between pushing him off and running for his life, Hideki sat there in frozen indecision for the next hour, thinking about how Mako, in his dream, had started to look a little taller, a little darker, and a little more like she had a dick towards the end, and how Ichiro's delicate little breaths as he slept felt disturbingly comfortable next to him. How had he managed to grow up this fucked.
He looked back down at Ichiro, who was thoroughly unfazed, and finally caught the reason for everything that evening: the removed floorboard. The empty ziplock bag that had once contained a small portion of their misleadingly named fortune. Mako's pristinely abandoned bed. The perfect image of his daikon dome shattering for the millionth time in his mind.
"Wh- Hey- Ichiro! Mako! MAKO! DAMNIT!" and he woke up the neighborhood.