Free My Brother's Keeper by Adrienne Wilder

farmhouse was old enough that plumbing was likely an addition. Strange how such a simple space could hold so many warm memories.
    Ellis stood on the thick mat next to the tub and started to unbutton his shirt.
    Jon brushed Ellis’s hands away. “Let me.”
    “I can take off my clothes.”
    “I know you can.” Jon removed the shirt then peppered soft kisses across the golden freckles on his shoulders. Ellis lolled his head to the side and Jon nipped the line of his jaw all the way to his ear.
    Jon dug his fingertips into the tight muscles of Ellis’s back. He groaned and leaned into the contact. Jon moved to Ellis’s other shoulder, kissing him there as well.
    “Did you mean it when you called us your family?” Ellis wrapped his arms around Jon’s ribs.
    “I did.”
    Ellis sighed. That one sound conveyed so much—happiness, peace, contentedness, trust.
    Jon finished undressing Ellis and stripped while the water heated up. When Ellis got in, Jon followed.
    Under the spray Ellis’s hair, went from gold to brown. He picked up the soap and washcloth.
    Jon took it away. “You relax.” He adjusted the water temperature, making it hot enough to steam.
    Ellis hissed. “You trying to cook us?”
    “It’s not that hot. Give it a few seconds and you’ll get used to it.” Jon washed Ellis’s neck, shoulders, arms, and fingertips, working up a lather by making small circles with the washcloth.
    When he reached Ellis’s armpits, he jerked and laughed.
    “Sorry, I forgot you’re ticklish.”
    “You’re not sorry and you didn’t forget.”
    No, but it got a smile out of Ellis and that was all that mattered. He dropped his chin to his chest. His serious expression returned.
    “You don’t have to worry all the time,” Jon said.
    “I feel like I don’t have a choice.”
    “Let me carry the worry tonight.” He knelt and his bad knee popped.
    Ellis opened his eyes. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
    “I’m fine.” He leaned on his good one.
    “What are you doing down there?”
    “Washing you.” To make a point Jon swept the washcloth over Ellis’s thigh then around to his butt cheek. Jon pressed his face to the top of Ellis’s thigh holding him as much as washing him. He’d lost so many people in his life and survived, but he would not survive if he lost Ellis. His unconditional love was the glue holding Jon together.
    He ran the cloth down the narrow line of hair going from the middle of Ellis’s stomach until it widened at the base of his cock. Soap bubbles clung to the dark hairs.
    “Spread your legs some.”
    “Why?”
    “So I can get between them.” Ellis did and Jon switched the washcloth to his other hand. He slipped his soapy fingers into Ellis’s crack and made slow strokes over Ellis’s opening. The small helpless sounds Ellis made echoed through the bathroom. He parted his lips and a flush bloomed across his skin. Jon placed a kiss on Ellis’s thickening cock before taking it into his mouth.
    The length of flesh hardened against Jon’s tongue. He dropped the washcloth and pulled on Ellis, encouraging him to thrust.
    He threaded his fingers into Jon’s hair.
    He swirled his tongue around the tip of Ellis’s cock. He tightened his hold on Jon’s hair making his scalp ache. Again he encouraged Ellis to thrust. To be aggressive. To take charge.
    Ellis rocked his hips and Jon hummed in response.
    The salty, bitter flavor of precum grew rich. Ellis made a strangled sound, his thrusts lost rhythm, and cum filled Jon’s mouth. He swallowed, but his lips were numb and his jaw fatigued. The water washed away what ran down his chin.
    Ellis held Jon’s face. At the moment, Ellis’s eyes were dark and hungry. He bent down, covering Jon’s mouth with his.
    Ellis sucked at Jon’s lips then returned to kissing him, feeding Jon his desperation. “Stand up.”
    Jon’s bad knee didn’t want to bend. He braced a hand against the wall to pull himself up. Ellis raked his teeth along Jon’s jaw.