Roan_Illdove

at first saxon denies it; he takes it as a compliment to his own size. there’s really nothing like the thrill of someone looking up to you and being intimidated by the size of your cock—“don’t worry about it bro, you’ve got the ratliff genetics, just because you’re not as big as me doesn’t mean you’re small. everyone can’t be as hung as I am.”

and when lochy insists that no, he’s actually quite small, saxon keeps bargaining—“so you’re a grower not a shower, that’s ok, we can work with that. you can just wait until you’re already chubbing up before you undress, that’s not too hard. and once she knows you know how use it, she won’t have anything bad to say about it”

the more saxon denies it, the more meek lochlan gets. there’s really nothing like trying to convince someone that you’ll disappoint them, because that’s what it is, right? saxon wants lochlan to get big and strong, just like him—to be a ladies’ man, second only to himself. lochy’s so afraid that saxon will take his little problem personally, like he’s is letting him down.

after a few minutes of back and forth, with lochy retreating more and more into himself, saxon finally just says, “ok just show me what you’re working with”

“show you?” lochlan squeaks out, and it’s barely more than a breath. surely he misunderstood

“yeah, come on, get yourself hard and show me. it doesn’t have to be weird. i’m just trying to get you laid, I need to know what you’ve got going for you”

“like, now?”

“yeah come on, I remember being eighteen, so horny a gust of wind could make me hard”

saxon makes no move to give him privacy, he looks on expectantly like he truly believes there’s nothing weird or wrong about watching his little brother touch himself. saxon sits down on the edge of his bed and gestures at lochlan’s, wordlessly demanding him to mirror him and settle on his own.

lochlan is tempted to ask him to look away, to give him a bit of privacy at least while he gets there, but if he’s being honest with himself, the attention is working for him. the fear of letting saxon down is still there, but he’s finding the humiliation of having to get himself hard for his brother in such a detached conversational setting to be surprisingly exciting. maybe he shouldn’t be surprised though, because right now he has saxon’s attention all to himself and his brother’s attention has always been the most valuable currency to him. he’s spent his whole life vying for his attention, always up against his friends, hot girls, the gym… a lot of things are more interesting to a teen/young adult than his preteen little brother after all. But now he’s got his brother’s attention on him 100%, saxon’s curious gaze flitting from lochlan’s face to his crotch, expectant.

he slides his hand into his shorts and boxers, and wraps it around himself. the whole situation is as titillating as it is terrifying. he’s still worried that saxon will take his size as a personal affront, but having the weight of saxon’s gaze on him is electric. he’s fully hard in under a minute, but he keeps stroking himself a bit longer, anxious about exposing himself and letting saxon know how much this is doing it for him.

he shimmies his shorts down single handedly, awkwardly keeping his other hand in front of his dick (fully hidden by his clammy palm), until saxon shifts closer and swats his arm to the side

a beat passes. two. lochy has his eyes on saxon’s face, desperately waiting for him to say something. saxon’s gaze doesn’t move from lochy’s crotch

“it’s so…” saxon trails off

“small, I know.” lochy finishes for him, meekly. then, “I was trying to tell you,” he adds stubbornly

but that wasn’t what saxon was thinking. more like pretty. cute. perfect. and yes, it’s certainly small, saxon can’t deny, but all he can think of is how well it would fit into his mouth, how perfectly it could sit on his tongue, how he could suck on it, keep it warm, keep lochy on edge for ages without it ever hurting his jaw.

So Lochy is just doing a standard “starts timid has genuine talent grows confident” routine. It’s a common trope. I think those are a metaphor for some kind of sexual conquest actually. Anyway Lochy’s just having fun and it’s all rather innocent, is the point. Nothing overtly sexual and the romantic interest is clearly framed as “aw, how adorable” from basically every woman except Chloe.

And the whole while Saxon is just there, smirking, taking swigs of that fucking beer with such a self satisfied look on his face. Because he’s getting off on this. He’s getting off on his little brother receiving attention from girls, even attention as pathetic as “aw the puppy can do tricks” which is bad enough. Saxon is getting off on this whole family trip as some fraternity initiation ritual, he’s so turned on by the idea of Lochlan fucking a girl and becoming a man.

Someone get this kid a deck of cards, he can go all night.

Saxon is sexualizing a kid shyly performing his passion and getting praised for it, maybe for the first time in his life. Saxon sees it as a tactic. He’s so impressed by this tactic that he gives Lochy that physical touch he’s always craving. The plan is proceeding nicely. Saxon is unable to see the authentic joy on Lochy’s face as different from the fake joy he always plasters on his own stupid cackling face. He sees Lochy’s smile and projects his own soulless grin onto it. It must be just a tool to disarm them. And that makes him hard.