Dirty Little Secret

Summary: Everyone has some sort of secret hidden, some more than others. So exactly what sort of secret has Shori been harvesting for as long as he can remember and how does it retain to his brother? Will it eventually break him or can he overcome his hidden desires?

Rim: Yeah, I've stuck my hand into the Kyou Kara Maou pot finally. This is a little something I did for a friend.

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No matter what…my eyes will always follow him, and his every movement because he mystifies me just that much.

Sitting on the floor of his bedroom with the family photo album in his lap was Shibuya Shori, the current maou heika of Shin Makoku’s older brother. Exactly what was he doing sitting on his bedroom floor instead of doing something productive was something as simple as being reminded of the past. Flipping to another page of Yuuri dressed in a blue, layered, frilly dress covered in a ridiculous amount of lace and floral pattern, Shori could not help but smile in remembrance at just how adorable his little brother was when they were just children.

Their father use to be horrified at the sheer volume of girly clothing his youngest son was dollied up in, always pleading with Shori to talk the boy’s mother out of her obsession with playing dress up with son. Of course Shori remained silent in his father’s protests, the boy’s own desire to see his baby brother in the adorable clothing unspoken. Even at such a young age, Shori knew that he wished to keep the adorable, wide eyed, innocent child suspended in an endless time stream so Yuuri would always need and rely on him.

A sigh escaped Shori’s lips finding pictures of Yuuri beginning to become attracted to baseball cropping up. He couldn’t understand exactly what sort of transition came to a child once fond of the frilly dresses and bows that were more than a regular part of his attire. Coming down to it, Shori was not happy to see it go, along with a dependency to the older sibling who never allowed him too far out of his sight.

All of Shori’s plans to save Yuuri from the world fell through, leaving him with only those glossy prints neatly placed in the auburn album trimmed with gold to be reminded of the face he first adored.

At the thought of it, another sigh slipped away, Shori flipping back to earlier pictures. Stopping on a particular one, the young man smiled softly, lifting a hand to trace the outline of the sleeping face framed with thick black hair. A face he still watched to this day, not just out of fear of something happening to the one person he could never let go so easily. He often found himself studying that face in leisure, imprinting every little detail about Yuuri in his mind to think about later.

He was not about to lie to himself and deny he had a younger brother complex. He could name a hundred and one examples to certify his complex, however his rational mind gave him no reason to bother since it was confirmed. There wasn’t even a point in turning a blind eye to just how much he doted and worried over Yuuri when the younger was near or his insistence for Yuuri to refer to Shori as ‘oniisan’ and sinking into obliviousness towards it.

As of late, his thoughts concerning Yuuri turned for a more mature basis, leaving the young man slightly unsettled at the burning thoughts flickering in his mind late at nights. Shame no longer stung him when he fantasized of moving the teen against him, Yuuri moaning his name ecstatically whilst being driven over that ledge into the abyss. Many restless nights in the darkness of his room, he imagined these things, gasping into his pillow as the tension from his secret released for a momentarily period of time.

Resting his head against the edge of his bed, Shori stared up at the ceiling wondering what he was going to do with himself. There was no way he would force his obsession-to say the least-on Yuuri. Not only might his brother protest, but Yuuri would stay clear of him all together. That was the last thing Shori wanted, or needed; the very thought all but killed him. Another lamenting sigh escaped his lips concurrently as his door was pushed open, and in stomped his forbidden desire…dressed in a short, frilly dress that certain came from Shori’s subconscious where all his little fantasies stayed until nightfall.

And oh, how that diminutive entity many would proclaim as not a dress coupled with his brother’s extensive red blush pushed Shori’s mind into dangerous territory. Closing the album and setting it aside, Shori tilted his head to the side, performing a perfect puzzled stare to counter his racing thoughts of those smooth hairless legs on display to him.

The outfit Yuuri was on exhibition in resembled a French maid’s uniform; the lining of the black skirt and puffy sleeves were lace trimmed. The bodice trailed down at the neck into a v-shaped collar. Amusingly a white bow adorned Yuuri’s hair, topping off the décor.

“Should I question?” Shori wondered, slowly hooding his eyes to trace from the bottom of Yuri’s legs to where the dress stopped. The thought of those legs wrapped around his waist while Shori proceeded to go for what was under the skirt distracted the older momentarily, however quickly recovering as Yuuri started in on his rant.

“Can you believe Murata helped her do this! It was okay when I had no will of my own to resist. But--” Yuri exclaimed.

“You look ridiculous,” Shori chuckled, though he really wanted to tell his brother how incredibly adorable he was. He figured the teen wouldn’t care to think of the comment as flattery. A secondary shade of red tinged Yuuri’s cheeks towards his brother’s comment. “That’s not helping either.”

“Just help me unzip this thing,” Yuuri huffed, flopping down in front of Shori with his back to his older brother. The zipper situated in the center where Yuuri’s shoulder blades began.

“You sure you don’t want to keep it on?” Shori smiled, wishing the teen would, at least for a little while. “I’m sure there are plenty of people who would enjoy this little display.”

“No!” Yuuri shouted, Shori knowing another shade of red was highlighting Yuuri’s face. “Stop making fun of me!”

“I remember when you use to wear dresses like these all the time, you never complained back then. You were like the cute little sister I wanted,” Shori grinned.

“You know…” Yuuri bent over backwards, giving his sibling a flushed glare; subconsciously his bottom lip jutted out into a pout, the look endearing itself to Shori’s very core. “You’re not funny, now get this thing off me before I have okaasan and Murata plot to ambush you one day.”

“But I would never be as cute as you,” Shori said, pinching Yuuri’s cheek. The smaller teen made a face, straightening his back. Giving Shori a look over his shoulder, the young maou heika pointed to the zipper.

“Off now,” Yuuri replied.

Shori wanted to do more than just unzip it, but as mentioned previously, some thoughts were better kept to himself to keep his brother from rushing out the room like a bat out of hell. Instead, he obliged his brother, unzipping the dress down to Yuuri’s narrow waist. With a sigh, Yuuri pulled the dress up from over his head, tossing the offending article of clothing away from him.

“Thanks Shori, you’re a lifesave,” Yuuri grinned, turning to stare at his brother.

“You can thank me by calling me oniisan,” Shori said, folding his arms over one another and looking at some point by Yuuri rather than directly at the teen cladded in just his underwear. The last thing he wanted besides the impure thoughts already flashing in his head was action below his belt. What went on in his mind could be concealed better than his pants ‘magically’ becoming a tent.

“You are never going to let up on that, are you?” Yuuri questioned. “What’s your fascination with that?”

“It’s not a fascination,” Shori corrected. “I just find it proper to address me as such since I’m your brother.”

“Oniisan sounds so formal,” Yuuri frowned, shaking his head. “Besides, I like using your name. I like the way it sounds when I say it. And it doesn’t sound impersonal, so what’s the point of honorifics.”

“I see,” Shori thought with a light smile. It would have to be Yuuri who came up with something so simple yet heartfelt as the words which came from lips Shori longed to taste. He wondered what it was like gently caressing the other’s mouth. What sort of sound Yuuri might make as they kissed. Would he blush or boldly return the affection? Or be as dead as a doornail before pulling away and rejecting Shori? Hundreds of questions swirled within the older Shibuya’s mind, aching to be answered, yet knowing never acting out of fear that Yuuri would no longer treat him as they have been.

If his secret came out and Yuuri rejected him, an awkwardness severely profound would settle in and make life uncomfortable for the two. Eventually causing them to be strangers, drifting apart until Yuuri forgave him. Shori was going to do everything in his power to keep that situation from occurring.

“Shori?” Yuuri cocked his head to the side with a thoughtful look in his eyes.

“Hm?” Shori blinked, wondering what was on Yuuri’s mind.

“I--” Yuuri trailed off, a flush creeping into his cheeks as the shorter teen placed a hand behind his head, a shy smile forming on his lips. “Thanks for being there for me.”

“And where did this spring up from?” At this precise moment all Shori wanted was to wrap his arms around Yuuri and never let go. Yuuri only shrugged to the question, the smile on his face wavering as he leaned forward, hugging Shori. The older male momentarily let his arms remain at his sides, unsure if his control would break.

“Oniisan…” Yuuri said quietly, not sensing any movement from his brother. Another shade of red crawling to his face as he began to pull away. He didn’t know what he had been thinking letting Murata talk him into this. There was no way Shori felt anything. They were brothers after all.

Shori sensed a change in his brother, quickly wrapping his arms around the smaller boy, drawing Yuuri closer. Gently placing his fact to Yuuri’s hair, he inhaled what appeared to be a hint of sandalwood mixed with something else. “You’re welcome,” Shori murmured. “I’ll always be here for you no matter what.”

“I know…thanks Shori.” The two brothers remained like that for a while, silence settling around them as Shori continued holding on, inhaling Yuuri’s scent. He could never get enough of it. Closing his eyes, Shori nuzzled his face against Yuuri’s head before he could stop himself. Yuuri, who was equally enjoying the moment jumped at the action, Shori immediately opening his eyes, his arms coming from around Yuuri.

“Gomen…” Shori said, a flush curling from his neck to the tips of his ears. Looking away, he focused on anything but the large dark eyes on him.

“Shori…” The older refused to answer or even make eye contact with him, shifting to anything he spotted other than Yuuri. “Shori…”

“Gomen…” Shori repeated.

“You don’t have to apologize…” Yuuri replied. “Nothing happened right? I bet you were thinking of some girl you want to do that with, huh?” Shori looked back at his brother, seeing the wavering grin.

“I…” Shori started quietly.

“I guess if I was you, I would do the same thing. I’m not built like you yet. I remind you of a girl don’t I?” Yuuri laughed a little, covering his disappointment, getting up from where he sat. He began moving towards the door, shifting his eyes as Shori had been doing moments ago. “I have lots of growing before I fill out…I should get going. Thanks for helping me though, Shori.”

“Yuuri!” Shori reached up before Yuuri was too far out of his reach. To hell with ration for the time being. He wasn’t about to let the younger leave under those misconceptions. Pulling Yuuri in for a kiss, Shori captured his brother’s mouth for his own. Moving back, he stared up into the pair of eyes that mystified his soul. “No one could ever compare to you in my mind.”

“Shori…” The ends of Yuuri’s mouth twitched into what Shori believed was a smile concomitantly to leaning forward to taste Shori. “Arigatou…oniisan.”

~~~

Shori growled Yuuri’s name into his pillow, his eyes remained shut as he continued his fantasy after waking from the dream about his brother in the French maid attire. His breath came out in shallow gasps of breath. His sweaty palms ran roughly over the coarse material of his pajama pants, spurring on his need to free himself from the burden of his dirty little secret.

Working his right hand into the pajamas, Shori writhed from the cool touch against his heated skin, imagining it was Yuuri’s hands easing his need.

“Yuu…ri.” Shori’s words slipped into his pillow, the darkness his shelter as he set to relieve the weight of his desire from his shoulders temporarily.

One day night would no longer hold his secret. It would eventually burst from the seams, spilling over into the light. He had no idea what to do about it in the future, he could only live presently and deal with it as it came. Right now, he was satisfied with just that.