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“Absolutely not! No way!” Ingo took a full step back, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. “I'm not doing that!”
“Not even for me? Your own brother? Your little baby brother? You wouldn't even do this for your most favourite person in the whole world?”
How? How did Emmet manage to cripple him so easily? With huge, round eyes that wobbled and watered, threatening a fount of tears that would drown him in regret. Ingo couldn't look away, couldn't tear himself from those glistening eyes and wobbly pout that knew exactly how to squeeze whichever desired outcome from him. “F-fine. Just this one time though!” And only because he loved his younger twin so much.
—
Ingo grimaced as Emmet's fingers streamed through wet hair, gently massaging an overpowering floral shampoo into his scalp. It didn't help that he could plainly see the bottle it came from, clearly labelled for use on Pokemon only. It was probably fine on humans, right? Just not ideal, right? The cartoon Herdier on the label taunted him with its stupid grinning face and dramatic hair bangs. Annoyance rumbled in his chest, not at all tempered by the rhythmic swirling and scratching of Emmet's fingertips.
“Oh my! Not a fan of baths, are we?” Emmet teased, and Ingo immediately felt a wave of self consciousness wash over him. He'd just been growling at a cartoon dog on a bottle of shampoo. Embarrassing.
“That's peeerrrfectly alright!” Emmet chirped gleefully. He placed one hand between Ingo's shoulder blades and the other across his scarred chest, guiding him down deeper into the water. “I've got plenty of experience with unruly Pokemon!” Archeops sprung to mind, the fossil an utter menace and seeming to think of every spray bottle and brush as prey to hunt. He wasn't that bad! He was behaving right now! Another wave of embarrassment washed over him at the comparison, and his immediate defensiveness over it. Emmet had a devious, knowing look about him despite the heat lights above that cast a halo of bright innocence. Ingo's knees rose above the water at the other end of the tub as he submerged the bottom half of his face, hoping in vain to hide his flushed cheeks.
Emmet didn't rub it in, though he was clearly delighted by Ingo's shame. “Oh, Ingo, I'll make you a verrry handsome stud. Verrry desirable.” Despite the drawl of Emmet's voice there was tension in his fingers, nails dragging over Ingo's skin hard enough to make the water sting. “But you are for private services only, of course. I do not share.”
Ingo trembled, teeth digging into his tongue, as Emmet carefully splashed water over him, washing away most of the flowery stench. It was actually kind of soothing, and he slowly allowed the tension in his shoulders to melt into the water. Emmet was very attentive and meticulous, experienced with quite the range of Pokemon of course. Not a single drop of soapy water made its way down his brow. Right. This was why he jumped at any offer to shower together.
“Good boy. Gooooooood boy…” Emmet's praise sent a shiver through him, rippling the water. “Enjoying yourself now? Looking eager to get to work!” The tease drew Ingo's gaze down his body, following the splash of Emmet's hand between his thighs. Oh. Why was he so embarrassed?
“Just relax, Ingo. You do remember I used to be a Pokemon groomer, yes?” He didn't. And somehow Ingo didn't believe that actually translated all too well to human grooming, anyway. Yet, begrudgingly, he didn't protest. Emmet looked like he was enjoying the scenario and if Emmet was finding pleasure, then he'd try anything at least once. For his little baby brother who just so happened to be his most favourite person in the whole wide world.
—
“Since when have you been so interested in the physical act of Pokemon reproduction?” Ingo eyed his brother suspiciously, watching as Emmet dug through his wardrobe, clearly looking for something. Of course Emmet was an experienced Pokemon breeder, but this was a touch beyond those expectations. Ingo pulled his towel closer around him, feeling uncomfortably exposed despite Emmet being totally uncovered, not even a modesty towel like he had. Usually he wasn't quite so in the dark about what was happening.
“Since I decided you look good in a muzzle and collar.” Emmet didn't even look back at him, didn't hesitate.
Ingo curled his fingers around the thick leather that had bound his neck since his bath, reminded of the chainlink snaking down his spine. He could take it off, if he wanted to. “Muzzle?” Ingo echoed, fingers falling from the collar. He crawled toward the edge of the bed, only stopping when he was sharply reminded of the chain. It was suddenly difficult to swallow.
“Well…you will look good in it. We did not actually try this before. But I am verrry certain!” Emmet chirped as he turned around. Light glinted off a metal wire cage and Ingo scrambled back until he hit the headboard of their bed.
“I'm not-” Ingo began, mouth moving too fast for his words. “N-nope!” That would be embarrassing. He was already collared and chained, but to be muzzled like some dangerous beast? Ingo pulled the towel up over his lower face, as if it would protect him.
…
Well…maybe the implications did intrigue him…
…
…
…
Not that he would be letting Emmet win.
Emmet cocked his hips and crossed his arms, muzzle dangling threateningly from a finger, swaying side to side. “I am Emmet,” Emmet began, pausing to take a rather ominous step closer, “and I am Ingo's most favourite person in the whole. Entire. World.” His grin broadened, bordering on unsettling, words punctuated with smooth strides that brought Emmet right up to the side of the bed.
Of course! Ingo stared up at his brother, hoping Emmet could see just how adored he was, given his sudden heavy tongue.
“And you would do anything for me. Because you love me. And I love you.” Emmet gently pushed his arm down with one finger, his smile dazzling and hypnotic and causing Ingo to forget whatever it was that had upset him.
Yes! Ingo nodded, letting his eyelids droop shut as Emmet's hands delicately cupped his face and brushed silky soft hair behind his ears, stirring up the floral scent of the shampoo. He groaned softly as roughened fingers followed just behind, brushing along his jawline, slipping behind his head and clicking together.
Ingo jerked back, ripping himself from Emmet's hands. The chain rattled sharply. There was no hiding the smugness about Emmet.
“You!” Ingo gasped out, hands slapping his cheeks as he confirmed his suspicions. He could see the wires down his nose, could feel the fabric padding on his cheeks and the straps that curled around the back of his head. He'd been muzzled. Like a beast. It made his hair stand on end.
“You said you would,” Emmet pouted. Silver eyes stared down at him, encouraging the heat in his cheeks. He had said that, hadn't he? “Besides. It is just a safety measure. ” Everything Emmet did or said seemed perfectly designed to fill Ingo with guilt, and he hung his head. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be ashamed about, though.
“Good boy!” Emmet chirped and the shame instantly dissipated, replaced by warmth and delight at the praise. Yes! “Now do not make me call you a bad boy and punish you!” Emmet waggled a warning finger that made him shrink back. It wasn't often that Emmet sent him into this mushy headspace, typically the other way round. He supposed he understood why Emmet enjoyed it so much. Kind of.
Ingo forced himself to settle, forced himself to effectively ignore Emmet as he crawled onto the bed and cuddled up to his back. Emmet's fingers tickled at his ears as he adjusted the muzzle straps. Seemingly satisfied, Emmet leaned back and the TV mounted on the wall flashed to life. Emmet leaned on him once more, chest pressed against his back, one arm draped over his side and idly tracing the softened definition of slowly disappearing abs.
Despite being laid out across their shared bed as he'd been dozens of times before, Ingo felt rather vulnerable wearing nothing but his collar and muzzle. Not even a pair of boxers to at least pretend to hide Emmet's effects on him. He couldn't focus on the TV. The voices were fuzzy and distant by the time they reached his ears. Emmet was laid flush against him and not leaving much to the imagination. Not that he was given much of a chance to fantasise. Emmet was insistent on touching him, fingers brushing back and forth over his favourite scars - the ones that made Ingo fidget the most, that carried the worst memories. Emmet said they meant he was destined to come back to him.
He didn't understand the point of this. Emmet wasn't watching the flashing colours on the TV either; he was much too busy murmuring inaudible words and frisking over his form. It didn't make sense and his body whined at him about how unfair it was. How uncomfortable it was to have the muzzle making it impossible to rest his head. The collar pressing into his neck. The chain ever present in the back of his mind. He was a good boy, though! He would deal with it. He would wait for Emmet to decide what to do next.
…Which was apparently to tease him. Emmet's hand slid down the crease of his thighs and Ingo fought to stay still, to not repel his brother's agonisingly slow advances.
“So verrry patient!” Emmet purred, the praise heavy on Ingo's ear as he reached his destination. Ingo bit his tongue, shoulders and jaw tensing at slim fingers finally giving his neglected cock a sliver of attention. As Emmet wrapped his hand around him, Ingo let out a heavy, long sigh, almost as though all that evening's anticipation was finally let out. “So. Very. Patient!” Emmet giggled, squeezing with each word. Ingo couldn't help panting at the stimulation and shallowly humping against Emmet's fist, certainly playing into the image of a beast.
“You should let me take a sample and get it tested. See just how virile this old man really is.”
Ingo blinked a few times, trying and failing to process such an odd desire. “Wuh-why?”
“Just curious,” Emmet shrugged and propped himself up on one elbow so he could peer over Ingo's shoulder. He tickled a finger under Ingo's balls, and Ingo's leg lifted automatically in response at the same time as a shallow groan escaped him. “I have wondered for a while, actually. Just how good is my brother's sperm? Can it really get a man pregnant like he seems to think?”
Ingo suddenly found the flickering colours on the TV rather interesting. Had he really claimed that Before? Emmet didn't have…he couldn't…Ingo felt the heat rising in his cheeks. Could he? No. Right?
“Maybe even take you to the doctor. Get some bloods done. Score your hips and other joints…” Emmet peppered kisses all over his shoulder, interspersed with quick nips that pinched the skin and kept him alert and in the moment. Emmet hummed thoughtfully against his shoulder, taking in deep breaths. At least he smelled nice now. After brief thought Emmet leaned away and Ingo heard the drawer on his bedside table open, the sound sending a Pavlovian thrill through him. A thin trail of precum had begun to ooze its way down his length.
“Hmm!” Emmet only made that sound when something intrigued him. “Seems you remember the important things,” Emmet teased, patting Ingo's ass.
Something within Ingo recognised the unusually loud sound of lube being squeezed from the bottle, but he wasn't sure why he was mildly concerned over it. He fidgeted with his collar.
“Last of that one,” Emmet muttered from somewhere behind him. Alarm flashed through Ingo and he jerked forward. Away from Emmet.
Emmet scooted closer.
Ingo wriggled away. He was already running out of bed to retreat to.
“What are you doing?” Emmet asked, oh so innocently, resting against his back now he was teetering at the edge of the bed. Emmet's fingers slid between his thighs, slipping and stroking over his sensitive perineum. Ingo pressed his thighs together, effectively chasing Emmet off.
“I…hmm…I am not comfortable with this progression,” Ingo admitted hesitantly. He wasn't being a very good boy. Good boys did as they were directed to.
Emmet let out a noise of confusion, but Ingo couldn't meet his eye. “What's wrong? Genuinely. Time out. Brakes pulled. Red light. We are temporarily stopping at this station.” Emmet hovered over him, forcing him to meet wide silver eyes, brimming with concern.
Ingo’s natural frown deepened and he hummed nervously, teeth grinding and jaw flexing against the muzzle as he tried to chase down his thoughts.
“You are doing that thing. The hmm hmm hmm thing. And you are not looking at me,” Emmet's stern concern softened, “your most favourite person. In the whole world. Who you can tell anything . Because I will tell you anything too. Like how much I love you. I am Emmet. And I love my brother! Verrry much!” Emmet sounded so confident, so matter of fact, draping himself dramatically over Ingo's shoulder and side. “So much that I let you put your dick in me. And that I also suck it. And swa-”
“Y-yes, Emmet!” Ingo was quick to cut him off, cheeks flushing at his brother's words. Anything. He'd never had anyone to truly discuss anything with in Hisui. There had been Rei, a displaced soul like himself, but there had already been such an inherent distance between them, and it hadn't felt right to burden a teenager with even more.
But Emmet was different. It didn't come easy. Vulnerability was weakness. But Emmet knew him. Emmet was his partner. And very understanding, even if a little impatient.
“I…” Ingo drew out the sound, vying for any time he could get before inevitably disappointing his brother. “I do not…find…the idea of, uhh, penetration…particularly pleasurable. I understand-”
“This isn't for my dick.”
“What?” Ingo blinked, taken aback by Emmet's apparent telekinetic abilities.
“I don't want to put my dick in you. No thanks! Besides. Whoever heard of a bitch breeding the stud?” Emmet barked out a short laugh, patting Ingo's hip with his lubed up hand. “I was just going to tease you a bit. Get you ready to breed. You know. Foreplay.”
Oh. Ingo felt quite dumb. That made way more sense. He stared blankly at his twin's expectant expression.
“May we continue?”
“Oh. Umm, y-yes,” Ingo cleared his throat and repeated himself in a stronger voice, “yes. Of course, Emmet.”
It sounded like Emmet almost squealed with delight at being granted the go ahead. “Back on track!” Emmet declared, wasting no time in cupping Ingo's balls in a warm, sticky hand. “Verrry nice. Large. Good form. Verrry attrrractive.” Emmet's fingers rolled over the sensitive organs, subtly squeezing and tickling at him with experience Ingo didn't remember him having. “Definitely experienced.”
That comment deflated Ingo's swelling pride. He wasn't entirely sure exactly how old he was now, but Emmet had taken a fascination with the possibilities. Experienced had come to be a bit of a backhanded compliment in place of old. It didn't bother him, not anymore. Not now that he understood Emmet was utterly enamoured with his older twin.
“Private services only,” Ingo reminded him, his confidence returning. Emmet responded with a playful squeeze that made him gasp, and a pleased hum, shifting his attention to Ingo's neglected dick. Ingo shuddered, letting his head fall back as Emmet oh so lovingly stroked him, hand slick and sticky with far too much lube that clumped up his hair and drooled down his thighs. Emmet's hand squelched loudly as he rolled his fingers up and down, rhythmically working the mess into every little crease and ridge on his cock.
“My use only!” Emmet corrected with a sharp tug of the chain that made it difficult to swallow. The pressure eased after a few seconds and Ingo took in a deep, gasping breath. He nodded obediently. Emmet's use only.
“Anyway!” Emmet walked his fingers over Ingo's chest, effortlessly pulling Ingo onto his back so there was no escaping the desire practically dripping off the younger twin. “You clean up nice, Ingo. Pretty and handsome. It's not fair to make me wait.”
Ingo sat up and watched as Emmet settled on his knees across from him, at the far edge of the bed.
“I like when you stare,” Emmet commented with a smug grin, raising a coy finger to his lips. He kicked a leg out and made a rather captivating scene of turning around. Emmet didn't need to look back at him to know he had Ingo's undivided attention.
This wasn't an unfamiliar sight, not in the slightest. He'd seen Emmet on hands and knees, facing away from him, many times by now. And usually he would pounce on the invitation! Yet here he was, watching, utterly captivated as Emmet made good use of his hesitation to hastily prepare himself. Oh, Emmet was devious. He knew what he was doing hand moving with clear familiarity. How many times had Emmet done this for him before? To make it appear so effortless? The implications made him shiver.
“Do you need a written invitation, brother?” Emmet teased, swaying side to side. Absolutely not! Ingo jolted to life, quickly closing the space between them. Though not taut yet, the chain weighed down on Ingo's collar. Ingo wrapped his arms around Emmet's waist and simply pressed against him, struggling against his muzzle to kiss anywhere on his brother. He couldn't even rest his chin on Emmet's shoulder for how bulky it was.
Emmet wiggled against him, reminding him of their intentions. Right, right. Ingo pulled back and felt Emmet quiver in his arms. It felt right, like he was playing the part Emmet wanted, to nuzzle against Emmet's neck in place of what would usually be a gentle kiss. He could sense Emmet's impatience and, taking only a moment to test their coupling, gave Emmet what he so clearly wanted.
Ingo could almost cry with relief as he was finally, finally allowed to sink into his brother. His bitch, as Emmet had so eloquently put it. He knew what this felt like. It wasn't new, even within his limited memory. This reaction wasn't warranted. It didn't make sense.
Ingo dug his fingers deeper into slim hips, nails clawing at bone as though Emmet might yet slip away from him after all this play. Emmet winced under his touch, but said nothing. Gave no indication to stop. Oh, Emmet was wonderful in every way. Ingo slowly leaned forward, easing Emmet into supporting his weight.
“Fuck. You are…heavy.”
Ingo would almost feel bad if Emmet weren't so willing. Weren't so capable.
Emmet groaned quite loudly and wobbled beneath him, and Ingo snapped to attention. Emmet didn't want to let him go, clinging impossibly tight and ensuring Ingo felt just how much he loved him as he pulled back.
He'd already been worked up and teased for so long.
Emmet was his bitch.
And he was a dangerous beast; muzzled and chained up.
The appeal suddenly dawned on him. Ingo slapped against his brother with enough force to cause Emmet to stumble onto his elbows, hips raised oh so invitingly. Emmet's shuddering moan only encouraged him.
Again. Emmet was more prepared for him this time, crying out and spasming around him still as he drew back. His wonderful twin didn't stand a chance. Ingo revelled in the unrestrained moans, eagerly shortening the breathy quiet between each sound his brother made. Emmet squirmed in his white knuckled grip, only driving himself deeper into the bed.
Ingo knew he wasn't going to last long, not after Emmet's teasing all afternoon. All he needed to do was make sure Emmet knew his place. Squirming and wriggling beneath his older brother.
Emmet sank down onto his belly, grabbing at the pillows and sheets and anything else he could to brace against Ingo's purposeful thrusts. Ingo sprawled over the top of him, propped up on his elbows, chasing what only Emmet could deliver.
A service worthy of all Emmet's grooming and preparations, Ingo hoped as most of his strength leached into Emmet. Only a few seconds later he clumsily rolled to the side, not wanting to crush Emmet beneath him. The last of his energy seeped into the bed and his eyes drooped shut. Heavy fists on his chest rudely kept him somewhat alert.
Emmet stroked through his hair and Ingo half heartedly swatted him away, turning away from him.
“You can keep it on if you really want. I would like to kiss you though.” Emmet patted his chest and Ingo slowly turned back to him. The moment the muzzle came away he rubbed at where it had dug into his cheeks and jaw, groaning softly with relief. He barely had the time to massage the ache out when Emmet claimed that task, fingers sliding up his jawline and thumbs rubbing soothing circles over his cheeks as Emmet kissed him. “The collar looks too good on you to take it off, though.”
Ingo scoffed and flung his arms over Emmet's shoulders, strength and energy rising inside him just long enough to pin a squealing, squirming Emmet to his chest and roll over on top of him. “And you look too good beneath me to be allowed to roam free!” Ingo retorted, burying his face in the crook of Emmet's neck and blowing a loud raspberry that made Emmet shriek and kick his legs. Emmet wasn't really trying to break free, just putting on a show for his dear twin. After a brief, playful struggle, Emmet rolled Ingo off him and burrowed into his side. One arm draped over his chest and one leg over his waist, clinging to Ingo like a Komala.
“I actually think you would look better beneath me. ” Emmet murmured conspiratorially. “My old brother deserves to rest most of his aching bones. You can just massage my achy legs as thanks!”
Ingo felt his chest tighten, and a smirk tinted Emmet's grin. “Another day,” Ingo compromised, returning Emmet's loose, draping hug, “you'll need knee pads.”
“I will hold you to that!” And likely make him almost regret it.