Title: Blood Is Thicker Than Water
Disclaimer: I make no money from this.
Set during Season One. Dexter is about to kill his dear, deranged Brother Brian, who asks for only one thing in return. Written because I never write in present tense and I wanted to try it.
His hand is shaking. This is the only thing his mind can fix comprehend, the way tremors rock the appendage until the fingers are jabbing at the air and the grip has slackened on the knife. He is about to kill his brother and
his hands are shaking.
"Nervous, Dexter?" Brian smiles past his split lip, eyes crinkling at the corners. That easy widening of his mouth seems mocking, as if the fact that Brian Moser is tied to the table, plastic wrap covering his body, rendering him unable to move with the edge of a knife glaring down at him…is only a slight disadvantage.
"No." Dexter tells him. A lie. The Dark Passenger is strangely absent although he can feel it somewhere inside himself- rattling around, rapping at his skull.
Dexter gently pushes the sharp point of the knife to his own index finger, testing its deadliness. A bead of crimson blossoms. He thinks he hears the plastic groan as Brian tenses against his bonds.
"I don't even get a last meal? That's cruel, little brother." Brian grins, still struggling in plastic, and the flash of teeth sets off the cut on his lip, making blood once again well up on the bow of his mouth. Dexter has to look away.
"See if I come here again." Brian seems at ease, facing death. Dexter almost admires him for the effort.
He leans in very close, so that his lips are inches away from the shell of Brian's ear. "Don't worry, Brian. You won't." With the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders, he raises the knife until it hovers over Brian's chest.
"Wait." The verbal imperative halts his hand. He slowly lowers his arm.
"Don't- I-" Dexter watches Brian lick his lips, licking the blood away, eyes flicking left and right as if watching a tennis match.
"Dexter…can I get a last request?"
Dexter knows he should just stab him. Let his knife slice through his skin, let the scarlet tide cascade down cooling flesh. But he can't deny his big brother.
Dexter looks down, at dark curls and brown eyes, a long nose, straight brows and full lips. His sister found Brian so appealing. He doesn't look a thing like Dexter- but below the skin, there the blood dwells, the similarities run as deep as a well.
He doesn't hesitate to obey, leaning down so his lips meet those of Brian Moser's. The brief warmth of flesh on his is both familiar and alien at the same time. Lips. His brother's.
He pulls back.
"Please, Dexter." Brian's eyes are wide and pleading. Dexter allows those eyes to draw him in, until he is completely bent over Brian's restrained body, his mouth hovering over Brian's cut lips before they connect again. His tongue is slipping down into Brian's open mouth, feeling teeth pull at Dexter's own lips, as if to keep him in place. Dexter's grasp of the knife grows weak, the blade falling to land beside Brian's bubble-wrapped body. He tangled his fingers in Brian's curls, pulling him closer as he's gasping into his lips. And then the Dark Passenger is nodding in approval, throwing its head back appreciatively.
Dexter's head is swimming; overwhelmed by everything that is Brian Moser. His legs buckle so that he has to throw his full weight against the table…
So swept up in these feelings, he doesn't even feel Brian wriggling beneath him, or note the absence of his knife. Then all he's aware of is the indignant screech of plastic as Brian cuts himself free, springing up from the table, their kiss breaking, mouths torn from one another-
And then there's a stinging pain as something pricks Dexter's arm, his vision blurring as his eyes see the needle in Brian's hand, what he now knows to be his own needle full of M99 flooding through his body.
"B-Brian…" he croaks, lurching forward. Brian is immediately at his side, a hand on his elbow and another at his waist, helping him sit down with his back against the wall.
"Shhh…Dex, it's ok, let me help you." Brian coos, fingers running fondly through Dexter's hair. The younger man's eyes begin to close as his body readies itself for sleep but at last he manages to say-
"Brian- are you going to kill me?"
"Wouldn't dream of it, brother." Brian smiles. He turns to the door. "Besides, blood is thicker than water. Have a good sleep, Dex. When you wake up, I'll be gone."
And with that, he steps over the threshold and closes the door behind him. Dexter sleeps.