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Title: Voices Carry Author: Anon Pairing: NB/KD Rating: NC-17 for incest He shouldn't be surprised, he tells himself when he sees the dark blue, curling scrawl across Nick's left shoulder blade. After all, it's not like he didn't see it coming from the minute Nick bounced up to him that night so many months ago, all twinkling eyes and rumpled-up hair. Not like he didn't know, from the moment he put his hand in Tressa's and pretended to smile at her while she blinked at the black in his eyes that he wouldn't hide and pretended to smile right back, that she was going to try to take his Nicky away from him eventually. He's handled it pretty well, he thinks. He didn't say anything when Nick started forgoing their regular Friday-night club cruising in favor of 'date night'. Or when Nick started wearing those god-awful shirts of Xander's even off the set, because 'Tressa thinks it's cute'. Not even when he decided - without even running it by Kelly first - that the two of them had 'better stop f-fucking around for a while, Kel. It's...it's just...not now, okay?' Kelly'd been there before everybody. Before anybody. He'd still be there when Nicky wasn't cute or rich or famous anymore, and nobody gave a shit who Nick Brendon was, except for the one person who never did. Not that he's a patient man. But a few months...a few years even? No big deal. He and Nicky both know where they belong. Let Nick put his fame and his youth and their beauty to good use. Have a little fun. He can wait. But this. This is too much. "What the fuck is this?" he asks, grabbing Nick's shoulder, turning him until they can both see the 'Tressa' reflected at them in the mirror. Nick looks startled, worried in the split-second before he shuts it down, smoothes his face out and gives Kelly his best 'humor the freaky person' public-appearance grin. "It's just a little ink," he says lightly. "Just pen. I want to live with it for a little bit before I decide." "Decide what?" he demands. He keeps his fists from clenching, but just barely. He's pissed, icy anger flooding his system, because he knows what Nick's going to say, and recognizes it for what it is: a warning shot, fired across Kelly's bow. He doesn't take kindly to such things. Shrugging his arms into the shirt he'd been holding, Nick doesn't meet Kelly's eyes. "If I want to get it permanently or not." "You're fucking kidding me." "No." Kelly watches Nick lick his lips, smooth his shirt down over his torso but make no move to button it. He looks up; Kelly can tell he's trying to look calm. Trying to look like he's not telling Kelly what they both know he is. "I'm not." He can wait, yes. He can even lend. But give away, stand by and watch while some curly-headed bitch takes *his* Nicky for her own? Not a fucking chance. "No." "What?" Nick asks, his laugh short, sharp, incredulous. Kelly meets his eyes evenly. "You heard me: no. You're not getting a tattoo of her name on your goddamned back." Shaking his head, Nick starts buttoning his shirt. "Last time I checked, Kel, you didn't get to decide those kinds of things." "Really?" Kelly's eyes narrow. "Because the last time *I* checked, Nicky, you belonged to me." Nick looks up. His hands are shaking and his face is white, but his nipples are hard and Kelly's willing to bet his collection of antique porn that Nicky's dick is too. "Fuck you." Kelly steps right up to him, chest to chest. Pushes forward until Nick has to push back or step back, and they don't stop until Nick's practically sitting on the dresser. "No. Fuck *you*, Nicky. As in, I'm going to. Right now." "Kelly. Kelly, c'mon. I'm going out." Nick's voice is shaking even more than his hands, but Kelly knows its every timbre, and this one's only pretending to be related to 'no'. "We won't be long, baby." Kelly runs his hands up Nick's sides and over his shoulders, slipping the shirt off easily. Nick's breathing speeds up and he's licking his lips, biting the bottom one until it's red and puffy by the time his shirt crumples softly to the dresser behind him. Smoothing his hands up and down Nick's arms, Kelly says, "You know, I'm a generous guy. I don't mind sharing. Really." He slides his hands back up over Nick's shoulders and down his front, running his palms in deliberate circles over Nick's nipples. Nick's gasping, holding himself still, taut, but he's not pulling away. "But you're mine, Nick. Mine." On Nick's indrawn breath, Kelly undoes his slacks and reaches inside until he's cupping Nick's balls. He rolls them gently, smiling slowly when Nick bucks up into him. "Always have been." Moves his hand to Nick's cock, uses his other hand to push the trousers off Nick's hips. "Always will be." Nick's slacks fall around his ankles, and Kelly uses the same hand to rid himself of his jeans, stroking Nick's cock as he kicks them to the side. Nick's head is back, neck arched and trembling. "Step out of 'em," Kelly murmurs against the tangy sweet of his brother's skin before biting down gently. "Oh fuck," Nick groans, his legs starting to tremble as he lifts one and then the other and pushes the trousers away with a bare foot. Kelly's working Nick's cock, slow and soft at first, but pretty soon it's hard and rough and Nick is twisting and jerking under Kelly's hand, arching into the pull. Kelly bites him again. Nick flinches, puts a hand on Kelly's forehead, pushes. "Wait. Kel. You're gonna...that's gonna leave a mark there." Kelly bites him harder, ignoring the pressure on the top of his head, responding only to the begging of Nick's hips against his own. Swirls his tongue over the hot, red mark he's just left, then looks up and grins. "I know." He dips his head and starts working another patch of skin. "Here, too." Moves, repeats. Nick's starting to sweat; the bitter, tart tang sweet on Kelly's tongue. It's been too long. "And here." "Oh, god." Nick's fingers curl around the back of Kelly's neck as Kelly works up another angry patch on the soft skin between throat and collarbone. When the KellyKellyKelly starts, Kelly knows Nick's as ready as he is, and he turns Nick around, sliding a hand up the muscled groove of his back and pushing down as Nick bends over. It's Nick's dresser, so it takes a couple of minutes of fumbling for Kelly to find the condoms and the lube. Condom first; then lube on his cock and his hand and before long, Nick is dancing on the end of Kelly's fingers and Kelly thinks, like he always does, that he might come just from watching that, from seeing Nick's face flushed and damp and desperate in the mirror. He pushes in, sweet and easy and smooth as you please, until he's flush against Nick's ass, the curves and grooves of their bodies snapping tightly together like a jigsaw puzzle. Always the place where he loses control, this place where the not knowing where he ends and Nicky begins takes on new meaning, new dimensions. "Mine," he says roughly. Hot, hot, hot, so fucking hot, always, Nick tight around Kelly's prick, laid out under his hands, the line of his back stretched and gleaming. Hot enough to make a man lose his mind just from the sight of it, never mind the interloper scribbled across the smooth, golden skin. "Fucking mine," he repeats, leaning over and biting hard and wet, once, twice, three times, right across that goddamned obscenity. "Not going to share you, Nicky," he says, in between short, sucking licks over the already-appearing bruise. "Not now, not for good, not fucking ever, you got it?" Any other time Nick would laugh at him, smack him upside his head and call him for the caveman bastard that he is, but Nick's breathing is ragged, the air heavy and thick with recklessness and want as he arches up, whimpering, into the marks Kelly's leaving on him. He resettles his hands on the wood beneath them, dropping his head with a jerky nod. "I'll lend you out. You can fuck around all you want, but you always come back. You always come home," Kelly says fiercely. His voice is as unyielding as the fingers he's got wrapped around Nick's waist for all that he can hear the quaver in it as he starts to lose control. He's thought all this before, murmured it to Nick in his dreams, implied it by look and touch and carefully-timed chasing off of various men and women. But it's the first time it's ever been out in the open, real and solid and unmistakable, and the acquiescence in the push of Nick's body back against his own is killing him. He leans in and bites the center of the tattoo again, not softening the sting with kisses this time. "Nobody marks you but me." "No, Kelly, Jesus, yes, whatever...whatever you want. Nobody but you, swear to god." Nick's voice is raspy, wet. "Whatever you fucking say, just shut up and fuck me already," he pleads. The one thing he has no intention of ever denying Nick, the one thing he doesn't need to be begged twice for, and Kelly half-chuckles, half-moans as he braces his hands on the cradle of bone at Nick's hips and starts fucking in earnest. Long, sure strokes that threaten to pull his heart out with every withdrawal, that leave Nick a helpless, convulsing mass in front of him. Faster and harder, the unguarded endearments Nick's been holding in for the last few months being fucked right out of him, every thrust pushing new ones up out of Nick's throat and into the air around them. It's the roughly-whispered string of 'Yours' that sends Kelly spinning off the edge after just a few deep strokes. They collapse together against the cold wood, Kelly folding against Nick's back, tasting the abandon sweating its way up through Nick's pores as he licks and bites, littering sharp bruises all over the skin. Nick comes with a shudder, his moan draining the last of Kelly's frustrated animosity. He's calm again when he pulls out, away, bending over to place a soft, almost-chaste kiss on the small of Nick's back before he goes to dispose of the condom. Nick's half-dressed by the time Kelly comes out of the bathroom, trousers safely done up, his fingers shaking only slightly as he buttons up a new shirt over the high-necked t-shirt he's now wearing. "Love you, bro," Kelly says quietly, finding Nick's gaze in the mirror as he slides his arms around Nick's chest and helps with the remaining buttons, kissing Nick's cheek softly when the last one's fastened. Nick sighs deeply, his eyes dark and introspective. Kelly tenses, hands flat against Nick's chest, wondering if he pushed too hard, too far, finally demanded so much of Nick that he's about to lose everything. "Love you too," Nick says after an adrenaline-inducing pause during which Kelly's mind is racing to think of how to take it all back in a way that Nick will believe. He doesn't lie to Nick often, doesn't like to, but he'll tell Nicky anything he wants to hear if it means keeping him. Kelly's turn to exhale. He drops his head in relief; Nick turns around, still in his arms, and kisses the top of it. Hands on his face make him look up, meet Nick's eyes. "I'm sorry." "What?" Kelly asks, confused. He doesn't have it in him to be sorry for needing so much from his brother, but he knows if anybody's got anything to apologize for, it's him. A warm thumb brushes the corner of his eyebrow, his temple. "For going away like that." Fingers trail down the side of his face, Nick pulling Kelly to him by the gentlest of touches. "Won't let it happen again," he promises with a kiss as soft and light as his tone, his hand. "Better not," Kelly says, fighting to keep the grin genuine and unworried. Falling ungracefully backward onto the bed, he wriggles his way to the top and under the covers. "I suppose the clothes mean you're leaving me," he mock-pouts. "Still have a date, dumbass," Nick points out calmly. He's turned around to the mirror again, tucking his shirt in, buttoning the cuffs carefully. Kelly watches Nick tilt his head this way and that, looking to see if any of Kelly's marks are showing. "Fine, go. Have fun without me. But you'll be thinking of me," Kelly says with a smug grin. "At the very least, every time you sit down." Nick grabs a pair of socks out of his top drawer and wings them at his brother. Kelly moves, but he's not very quick, not when he's tangled up in the massive pile of blankets that lives on Nick's bed, and the balled-up roll smacks him in the ear. "Fuck you," Nick says, but he's chuckling, and Kelly knows it's going to be alright. Kelly grins again. "Next time, promise. Now get out of here," he says, waving, shooing his brother out of his own room, and making himself comfortable as Nick slips into his shoes and leaves, tossing a quiet "Bye" over his shoulder. The click of the front door closing reaches his ears, and Kelly smiles into his pile of pillows, remembering the still-darkening bruise high above Nick's collar, just behind his ear. "Oh yeah. And be sure and tell Tressa hi for me." -End