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“So, you're still a virgin?”
Sometimes completely unexpected questions arise in the air. The Kazan cold, winter, half a bottle of vodka blown out in one gulp, and the battery warming up his aching head did not stick with this mood in any way. Parents had been in the village for a week, and the brothers could not think of anything better than absorbing parental swill for two. Did Rinat really think that hiding the fact of his alcoholism from his wife in an apartment with two teenage boys would be a good idea? Alcohol relaxed him too much; Ilnaz did not even understand the question.
“Fuck off.”
“Got it.”
***
Actually, Ilnaz didn't drink. Firstly, drinking alcohol is a sin. Secondly, it is harmful to the liver. Thirdly, it makes people stupid and makes them stink terribly. Even stupider. Nevertheless, the possibility of not thinking about anything for at least one evening sounds too tempting.
When Insaf takes out another bottle of incomprehensible moonshine from the dresser, he turns his head away and presses his lips tightly. Before his eyes, everything melts and slides right and left.With shaking hands, Ilnaz adjusts his glasses and decides to leave the kitchen. Swaying slightly (no, not that drunk), he finds a lonely, shabby sofa in the far corner of the room and collapses onto it, almost missing and falling face first into the floor. Ilnaz tries to focus on the painting on the wall, but his body tells him a persistent "No!" and in the last split second, he is seized by such a powerful gag that Ilnaz forcefully pushes himself back onto the back of the sofa. His eyes are rippling with black. To his shame, he opens his mouth slightly to make it easier for him to breathe. He's not sure if he puked or managed to keep the alcohol in himself, but he's not up to it right now.
The world is still floating before his eyes, but he doesn't feel "drunk." More precisely, he is not attracted to hugging, jerking off, yelling stupid things, or singing—he is still the same Ilnaz Galyaviev; he just has a cloudy brain and strongly wants to vomit. That's why he hated alcohol. He puts his head on the armrest so that it hangs down, and the room turns over, causing a new powerful spasm in his throat. Ilnaz closes his eyes tightly.
Fuck all these images; he just wants to regain control of his mind. Or maybe even sleep.
He sleeps, it seems, for half an hour, at this time somehow distantly noticing that the light in the living room has gone out. He would have slept like this all night if it hadn't been for a gentle nudge in his legs that woke him up. Hearing gradually returns to Ilnaz, and he realizes that someone sat at his feet. Someone? There was only one person in the apartment with him.
“Are you asleep?” The man in front of him is his brother; he’s thin and doesn't look like him at all, a head shorter, though a year older. Ilnaz is about to answer, but at the last moment he decides to bite his tongue and rolls over on his side, putting his palms under his head.
“Mom just called me; they won't be back until Monday.”
“Yeah.”
Insaf purrs something in response and strokes Ilnaz's ankle. He twitches weakly (out of pure disgust, not even from reflex). Insaf pauses, his feet thudding on the sofa. Silence. It would be worth falling asleep, but someone's gloved hand continues to stroke his ankles and calves; Ilnaz does not even notice how his trouser leg is rolled up high.
“Insaf...”
“Mm-hmm.”
Ilnaz is silent because he forgot what he wanted to ask. Or he didn't even want to ask anything. It was stupid: why would even you say something if you're not going to ask anything anyway? Alcohol seemed to have a stronger effect on him than he realized. Gladly, he was still conscious.
After winning a staring contest in the dark, Insaf abruptly jumps up from his seat. He holds out his hand to Ilnaz:
“Let's go to the room; why would you sleep in the living room?”
Finally, his body gives a full-fledged malfunction, his legs give way, and his hip hits the coffee table while he tiredly marches to the bed.
His gaze rests on the floor so as not to accidentally stumble out of the blue. Insaf's hand is holding him by the side.
“Wait a minute. Did you really decide to go to bed just like that?”
"What the fuck are you suggesting I change into?"
Insaf clicks his tongue and throws Ilnaz over, leaning over him accusingly. Ilnaz sits down on the floor because he needs to untie his sneakers—only pigs go to bed with shoes on.
“Кардәш, шундый ахмак..." Insaf's hand gets into his hair and gently ruffles it. Ilnaz wonders since he started calling him brother instead of "ill tell parents that you smoke if you forget to do your dishes." Insaf's hand continues to hold his hair while the other begins to unbutton his jeans. Ilnaz shudders but does not know where to go.
"I'd really like to talk." But I'm tired." With these words, the older one very gently runs his hand through Ilnaz's hair to smooth it. “Do you understand?”
“What are you doing?"
Ilnaz really wants to lie down and fall asleep right on the cool floor, but Insaf's hand does not allow him to do this, and he sniffs in frustration. Insaf pulls off his trousers and leaves them hanging at the level of his ankles. He pulls the hair down from the top of Ilnaz's head, and he lifts his face. It hurts him a little, and he wants to express his displeasure, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he felt something unambiguous sticking into his lips.
“Oh….”
Then something slides into Ilnaz's mouth, and a not very pleasant smell hits him in the nose, and he feels more sick. His consciousness is shaken so much that alcohol involuntarily fades into the background. Ilnaz jerks violently, but Insaf's hands suddenly clench tightly on his shoulders, as if he had anticipated his reaction.
“Shush...” Insaf's voice trembles slightly, and his fingers gently twist one coarse hair around himself to pull with force. I thought we wanted to relax.
Ilnaz tries to grumble something incoherent, but the vibrations of his throat send a large tremor through Insaf's body, and he bends slightly. The last remaining brain cells in consciousness are trying to force Ilnaz's muscles to fight back, twitch, bite, and twist, but he realizes with complete hopelessness that he does not want to do anything.
He was tired.
And it's not like he hasn't experienced sexual coercion before.
Insaf purrs something in his ear, and he shudders. Stop shaking; everything will remain between us.
Automatically, Ilnaz tries to nod, but Insaf hisses in pain and abruptly fixes his face between his palms. He steadies his breathing for a couple of seconds (did such a simple gesture of Ilnaz scare him so much?) and then begins to move smoothly.
Ilnaz instinctively clutches Insaf's bare thighs, and he hisses in pain. He puts one hand on Ilnaz's neck, gently squeezing and holding him in place; the other continues to pull his hair. Insaf moves in time with Ilnaz's dizziness, so that he can barely tell if he feels something; of course, deep down, he hopes not to vomit.
“How are things at college? I heard you've made friends.”
Even during sex, he doesn't stop talking.
Sex? Ilnaz is vaguely aware that he and Insaf are having sex right now. Insaf, his brother.
What did he say? Something about college. There is nothing to say for now. He frowns, showing a negative response.
“You know, this Vlad dude looks trustworthy. It's good to have friends at university," Ilnaz suddenly pushes towards him sharply. “More motivation to study..."
Was Ilnaz really moving towards him, or was it just his imagination? He would definitely never do something like that. Something scratched his scalp painfully, and he realized that it was Insaf's hand that had been guiding him all this time. He did it so easily and imperceptibly, as if he were a professional. You're so pretty, you know? Especially with these glasses, Insaf purrs low, continuing to play with Ilnaz's hair (it will be necessary to shave them off), and Ilnaz really starts to feel sick because the old fuck apparently forgot about all manners and began to take him rougher. Ilnaz makes a protesting sound, and Insaf switches to a smoother, slower tempo.
Here's the strange thing: men usually accelerate towards the end and seem to lose control of themselves, but Insaf was superbly in control. He moved just as easily and steadily, avoiding the sharp teeth of Ilnaz and soothing him with a light massage, and this went on rather tediously and for a long time, until he gently announced that he would soon finish. Still moving calmly.
Insaf tries to pull away with a suppressed groan, but Ilnaz's hands, still resting on his hips, hold him firmly in place, and he falls forward. It was the only moment when he felt the viscous bile actually go up his throat, and for some reason he hoped that Insaf did not feel it. Insaf cums in his mouth, and he obediently swallows. It's not like he hasn't done it before. Actually, it's none of your business. Fuck off.
“Ильназик… Рәхмәт сиңа, кояш. Минем яраткан. Мин моны һәрвакыт теләдем... “ Insaf showers him with affectionate names, gently kisses his face, pats his head, and hugs him as if he had just taken over Ilnaz on purpose, while he could not control himself.
Ilnaz suddenly realizes what he did not like so much about his brother using him. No, not a dick in his mouth, although let's all forget about it together. ..
“Bitch, wait a second."
“Mm-hmm? What is it?
“How do you know about Vlad? Back when we just entered the room," Ilnaz growls, and Insaf takes his hands away in fright, "I didn't even fucking tell you about him! I didn't tell anyone at all! What the fuck!"
Insaf shrinks fearfully in his place, but this does not help—all the discontent and all the anger of Ilnaz, along with all the restrained emotions, pour out directly on him, and he screams and swears for a very long time and comprehensively. In the morning, the neighbors will call their parents.
***
The door to the auditorium creaks disgustingly; it is impossible not to notice such a large figure as Vlad. He sits down next to Ilnaz.
“Oh, hi, have you seen my brother the other day?”
“Oh, yes, I came to return your notebook, but he opened it instead. He said that you were in the store. Did he mention me?”
“Yeah, he did.”
His jaw involuntarily closes until the teeth creak; it will hurt to eat cold food again.
