A/N: uhhgsahja. I'm actually nervous about this fic here coz I actually took a load of time writing up chapters and stuff for it and planning out what would happen. I'm normally a oneshot person. Be gentle with meeee.
This contains more dirty gay incest. Why? Because I like it, and I like them, and I like writing them and I can't help myself, I'm a pervert, I'm sorry, yea. So please for the love of God, don't read this and then bitch me out saying "they're brothersss ewewew." coz, like, I know and you should know because you should have seen in the summary and right here, too. Bye bye.
Kenny stirred upon hearing a door click shut. He started to settle back into sleep until he was disturbed again by the sound of rustling. Kenny shuffled further under the covers, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. At that moment his little cocoon of sleepy warmth was snatched away quite cruelly from him. A small groan of protest left his throat and he finally cracked open an eyelid. His older brother swam into vision, clutching the duvet with a bemused expression. "Yes?" Kenny murmured into the pillow.
"What're you doin' home on a weekend?" The older McCormick brother slurred, swaying slightly as he spoke. Kenny sat up, blinking a few times trying to process the situation in his half conscious state. The first thing he notes is Kevin McCormick is absolutely hammered. He forgot his brother's question and settled for one of his own.
"Can I have the duvet back?" Kenny extended an arm out toward the duvet in question. Kevin looked at the duvet and then back at his younger brother. It didn't help him understand any better so he just shrugged. Kenny sighed. "Did you just get home?"
"Yea. I'm hungry, you got money for a pizza?" Kevin responded, eyeing Kenny's jeans where they lay on the bedroom floor.
"No." Kenny answered bluntly. The older boy frowned and took another look at the blonde's belongings, like he might be able to shake any hidden money out with his vision alone.
"I'm not." Kenny is. But he knows that if he hands the money over, Kevin's going to make his little brother tag along for the trip. His little brother who would, quite frankly, much rather be sleeping. "Kev, come to bed." The blonde McCormick murmured, as he turned away and flopped back down onto the bed. Kevin raised an eyebrow, smirking faintly. His eyes trailed briefly over Kenny's shoulder blades, down his spine, stopping just short of the small of his back. He tossed the duvet back on top of the younger boy and began to undress sloppily.
Kenny pulled the duvet tightly around himself. He felt the form of his older brother pressing up against him just that little bit too close. Rather than correct the distance between himself and his intoxicated brother, he just let himself drift away, back into sleep.
Kenny awoke the next morning, sticky with sweat, forehead pressed against Kevin's chest. He crinkled his nose as the smell of sweat mingled in with the alcohol that he could still smell on Kevin's not awfully pleasant morning breath. He rolled over and kicked the duvet cover back, stepping out of bed. He staggered over to the bedroom door, picking up items of clothing that were dumped around the room, trying to dress himself as he walked. Kenny took one last glance at his brother's sleeping body before heading off to the bathroom to take a shower.
As much hassle as Kevin caused him - waking him up at ridiculous o'clock for money – Kenny still played the role of the adoring little brother (though, maybe not in front of his friends). Kenny still listens intently to Kevin when he talks, because he's older and knows better. Because Kevin gets to go to cooler parties, and probably gets to bone hotter girls. Because Kevin knows how to get drunk faster and he doesn't even get sick. Kevin can do what he wants and he doesn't even get in trouble, most of the time. And if Kenny listens to him hard enough he might turn out the same.
Kevin slips out of the bedroom, grabbing up the bottle of vodka he'd brought in with him on the way. He closes the door softly behind him, so as not to disturb the girl left behind. Nothing spectacular happened. She burst into a hysterical drunken crying fit before it went anywhere worthwhile. Kevin had sat with her, patiently faking sympathy in the hopes that she might stop crying and suck him off at least. Instead she lay down for five minutes and was out cold. And so, Kevin took to drowning his sorrows at this disappointing turn of events.
He moves in between clusters of people dotted along the hallway and down the stairs. He takes swigs of the remainder of his vodka as he moves through the living room, where most of the party has congregated and is dancing, or vomiting or making out on something that shouldn't be danced, vomited or made out on. Kevin doesn't know whose house this is. He doesn't much care, either and slips into the kitchen, scanning the countertops for abandoned shots. There's no such luck and so he just casually picks up a bottle of something fluorescent and toxic looking and tucks it under his arm, assuming the owner of this drink probably won't even realise it was taken until the morning.
He slips back through the living room and out through the front door, into the street. He feels a hand clamp down on his shoulder. "I've been looking everywhere for you!" Kevin cringes as he senses the annoyance in the speaker's tone.
"Sorry, I just sorta lost you when you went to the bathroom or somethin'." Kevin looks Shelley Marsh in the eye and is not sorry, knowing full well that he lost her on purpose. This was one of her college friend's parties and Shelley had been one of the few people who stuck to the rules and invited one other person who wasn't allowed to bring anyone else. Kevin was glad that somebody had clearly broken this rule, however, since there was a surplus of good-looking girls. Kevin had waited until Shelley was busy bitching about some girl he didn't even know and had slipped away looking for an easy fuck.
"Yea, I guess so." She responds turning away. She angrily fumbles with a lighter until Kevin takes it out of her hands and lights her cigarette for her. Her expression softens slightly, and Kevin feels a little less tense. "Thanks." Shelley mutters tucking her hands in her pockets.
Kevin eyes her cigarette as he takes another swig of vodka. "… Can I have one of those?" Shelley rolls her eyes.
"I figured there'd be a catch." She mutters, passing one over with her lighter. She watches him set down the bottles he'd been carrying, light his cigarette – watches as he exhales smoke and then she sighs, making a grab for his hand with her free hand. "Can we go home?" Kevin pulls away awkwardly. She frowns at him as he avoids her gaze.
"You mean go back with you?" Kevin gives Shelley a sideways glance, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Shelley throws her cigarette down and treads on it, folding her arms.
"Fucking forget it. If you want to be a dick that's fine by me." She tries to scowl at him, but her expression falters slightly and for a split second looks like she could cry.
"It's not that I don't wanna." Kevin adds quickly in attempt to rectify the situation. "Just can't." He moves on to the drink he stole, the rather noxious looking one. "Ken texted me, he needs me to go home." Shelley considers this and then nods solemnly. Kevin inwardly breathes a sigh of relief, confident that she's been suckered in. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you." He kisses her cheek to seal the deal. He turns to leave. Shelley calls him back.
"Kenny stops at mine with Stan every weekend." She tells him flatly, her face revealing nothing. Kevin feels his stomach muscles clench. He shrugs and quickly starts moving again.
On his way home he drinks as fast as he can stomach, mentally kicking himself for being so dumb. He should know that Kenny's barely home on weekends. He should have told her it was Karen. Shelley barely knows anything about Karen, beyond what she looks like. But for whatever reason, Kenny was the first person to spring to mind.
Kevin feels a sudden overwhelming wave of hunger and rummages through his pockets for any money he may have on him. He finds nothing, and picks up the pace, hoping he left some at home.
He enters the bedroom he shares with his little brother and scans the floor, looking for recently worn pairs of jeans. He ends up rummaging through all of them, because he is really desperate for a pizza. He hears a shuffling noise and looks up to see the duvet moving all by itself. He raises an eyebrow and staggers towards it, lifting it. Underneath it he finds his younger brother. His heart skips a couple of beats because he realises that now his alibi checks out. The blonde McCormick sits up and blinks at him. Kevin glances at his brother's mussed up hair and protruding collarbones and feels something. Something he isn't sure of because he's quite drunk.
When the younger boy tells him to "come to bed", Kevin inexplicably thinks of his "easy fuck" mission. He even considers it until he realises that Kenny is his little brother and he can't even see straight. He gets into bed and thinks that he should be horrified with himself. He wraps his arms around Kenny's waist and realises that he's not.