Not Real | By : Lunarwench Category: +S through Z > Venture Brothers Views: 3774 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Venture Brothers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
AN: This was originally supposed to be a crack-fic, but as I was writing it, I...kinda liked it. ^_^; So forgive for the oddness. But...If you pay attention to the show, these two are SO gay.
Dean woke to a sound he'd heard many times before, but never this late at night, and never from so close.
Hank was crying.
Quietly crying, like he was trying to keep from letting the tears out, but Dean had always been a light sleeper and had awoken from the first muffled sniffles. And as he lay there, his heart pounding from being woken by such concern-causing vocalizations, those quiet sobs slowly grew louder.
“Hank?” He whispered tentatively into the dark, turning his head towards the dark lump of his older twin.
The sad sounds cut off abruptly, and there was one huge wet sniff then a very warbly, “What?”
Dean frowned. “Are you...okay?”
“I'm fine. Go back to sleep.” But Hank's voice was very tight, sounding almost choked.
Still creasing his brow, Dean tried again. “Are you sure? Because I heard you crying and-”
“I wasn't crying, dork-face!” Hank whispered fiercely, shifting loudly, no doubt to roll over and cover himself with his quilt.
Dean was worried. Though he and Hank didn't often get along, they were still brothers. And Dean still loved his brother very much. He didn't like to think of him suffering or crying, and not talking about it. Because Dean felt he could help. There was no way he was going to let his only brother be sad all by himself.
It was that last thought that had him pushing back the covers of his twin bed and silently raising from the bed and crossing the very short distance to Hank's bed. About to do something that neither of them had done since they were very young, Dean took a nervous breath. There was a chance he'd get punched for this. But he was willing to risk it for the chance to calm down Hank. Besides, they'd both had a difficult day.
Before Hank could react to him, he grab the corner of Hank's sheets and peeled them back, lifting them enough so he could slip into that small bed beside his brother. Hank had tensed as soon as he did that, but Dean snuggled up right against his brother's back, wrapping his upper arm around those stiff shoulders, before the blond boy could object.
“Dean, what the-?”
“You were crying and you know it.” Dean said sternly, dipping his head forward and resting his forehead in the crevice between Hank's shoulder blades as he scooted closer to keep from falling off the edge of the tiny bed. “And I'm your brother and I can't stand to hear you cry. It's just us here, so stop being so macho and tell me what's wrong, you big...dummy.”
Hank didn't immediately respond, but he relaxed and leaned back into Dean slightly, letting him know that eventually he'd crack and tell him. So Dean just waited.
After what seemed like forever, Hank shuddered and began making those sad little sobbing noises again. Dean could feel him struggling and trying to hold it in, and he tightened his arms, hugging his brother tighter. He made soft little soothing sounds in his throat, trying to calm the older sibling, and he nuzzled his face into the warm softness of Hank's Aquaman pajama shirt.
With a stuttering breath, Hank wheezed out, “We're...W-We're n-n-not...” He sobbed again.
“What? I couldn't understand you, Hank. Could you say it again, please?”
Hank tried again, with obvious effort. “We're...n-n-n-not...” He sniffled, bringing one arm to wipe at his nose with his sleeve. “Real.”
Dean blinked against his brother's back, confused at first, but then realizing what Hank was talking about. “You mean...those...things, right? In Pop's lab?”
Hank didn't answer right away, but Dean felt him nod weakly. So, Hank had figured it out as well. Those...bodies in their father's lab, they weren't just clones who would do their homework and clean their rooms for them. No, there were way too many loose ends that didn't have an answer, and though it hadn't been apparent right away, eventually Dean had pieced together what was going on. They were clones of them, obviously, and Dean had been thinking all day about those identical faces in those tubes in the lab. He'd noticed that there had been numerous copies. Why need all those copies? And when he'd thought about it some more, Dean had remembered little suspicious things, like their licenses, which said they were older; and that woman who had turned out to be their mom telling them they were older too. Well, if they were supposed to be older, then why weren't they older? Dean couldn't really think of any other reason than their scientist father keeping them young and never letting them age. Maybe as clones they didn't age, but their false bodies didn't last long, so they had to keep getting replaced with newer clones. Maybe.
And that meant, following logic, that Hank and Dean weren't even the Originals.
Dean didn't really think it made much sense, but he couldn't think of any other reason. And besides, it didn't really matter what theory he'd come up with, because he had made up his mind to ask Brock or his dad about it tomorrow.
But, he couldn't help but be surprised that Hank had come to the same conclusions as he did. Not that Hank was dumb or anything, but Dean knew he was the brainier of the two and he often could put this stuff all together in his head. Making sure to keep the amazement out of his voice, he asked, just to clarify, what Hank had meant when he'd said 'real'.
Hank was still crying quietly, though he wasn't moving away from Dean's trying-to-be-comforting presence. “We're...just clones, copies...and we won't ever age...or something...” Hank trailed off, sounding confused, and Dean furrowed his brow again.
“Or something? You don't have a definite theory?”
Shifting uncomfortably, Hank kept silent for another couple moments. “Well...I didn't really understand what I was reading, but...”
“What do you mean by that?”
Hank continued to squirm. “I, uh...I read it in you're...diary...”
Dean gasped, lifting his upper half off the bed to glare over Hank's body at his guilty face. “Henry Allen Venture! How could you?! Why would you do that?! How could you desecrate the sanctity of my private journal like that?!” He slapped at Hank's arm, trying his hardest to make it hurt, and felt a little better when Hank hissed in through his teeth and rubbed his arm sorely.
“Jeez, Deano. Calm down.” He said with a pout, sitting up as well but not meeting Dean's eyes. “I just...I guess I like to know what you think sometimes...I don't do it a lot, and you'd been writing all day, and I was just wondering what you'd been so preoccupied with. I figured it was that bimbo Trianna or something, and I was looking to see if you'd written anything pervy.” Hank began fiddling with the blanket on his lap, and Dean could see his cheeks get darker by the faint light of their nightlight. “But...I saw all that stuff about the clones and maybe never aging and it really messed up my head...” Hank bent forward over his crossed legs and buried his face in his hands. “It just...I don't wanna be fake. I want to be real.” A broken sob rushed from his throat. “I want to be real!”
Dean wasn't really mad about Hank sneaking peeks at his journal, not when his brother was so depressed and in obvious need of comforting. Without a thought, he closed the small gap between them and wrapped his arms tight around Hank's neck, squeezing him close and making them press together. His mouth was conveniently right near the older boy's ear and he whispered soothingly, “But we are real, Hank. I'm real, and you're real. Can't you feel me here?” He hugged even tighter, to prove a point, and Hank breathed out quickly, right into his own ear. “We're both alive and our hearts are beating, and I can feel you and you can feel me. Right? That means we're real. And nothing can change that.”
Hank's body was warm against his own, and his brother smelled like soap and the salty mixture of tears and sweat. As those arms came up and hesitatingly clutched around his back, he unconsciously breathed in that scent, nuzzling into Hank's neck as he did. There was no complaint, and he stayed there, hugging his twin brother and trying to convey just how real they both were.
When Hank didn't continue to cry, Dean shifted, preparing to disconnect their awkwardly-angled hug and return to bed, but Hank's arms tightened.
“Don't go...” The blond whispered, and Dean could feel his brother's face heat up in what must be another blush. Hank coughed lightly, and cleared his throat, obviously trying again. “Uh...I mean, I still feel kinda...freaked out by all this...Will you, uh, stay here? Like, we could share, like we were kids again. Please, Deano?”
They didn't share beds often, only when necessary, like at the white house, and Dean never thought he'd hear his older brother ask him something like that. Not 'I'm a tough guy' Hank. No, not at all. But that last please made him pause, and he couldn't say no to him. It might be awkward, a little cramped and kinda too hot, but Dean didn't want Hank to cry again. So he nodded, pulling back and waiting for Hank to lay down, then laying down himself.
Because it was such a tight squeeze, they were basically pressed right up against each other, and Dean gulped, a little weirded out at the larger, lightly muscled form of his brother crushed against him. But, they were brothers, and it was okay to be this close to someone you loved, so Dean didn't protest it.
Instead, he simply rolled onto his side, watching in the dark as Hank did the same, now facing him, and they both closed their eyes and easily fell into separate sleeps.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
His whole body felt...hot
Uncomfortably hot, but also...kinda good.
Like, there were tingles shooting up his spine, making him want to thrash, and he slowly realized he was waking up, though it really only took a couple seconds to happen.
And when it did, his first realization was that Hank was sprawled half-way over his chest, his head resting in the crook of Dean's neck, and breath puffing wetly onto his collarbone.
The second realization was that Hank had an erection and was slowly grinding it into Dean's thigh.
He jolted awake, unable to move because of Hank's heavy form draped over him and unable to make any noise out of sheer disbelief.
His brother was...humping him!
And making soft breathy whimpers with each slow thrust against his scrawny leg.
Dean could feel Hank's penis digging into his skin, surprisingly hard and there was also some kind of moisture soaking through his Spiderman pajama pants.
After a moment, he blushed at the sudden realization of what that wetness was, and he shifted uncomfortably.
His brain, which had momentarily shut down in shock, now roared to back to life and told him cautiously that Hank must be having one of those 'wet dreams' they'd learned about from the sexual education lesson they'd each had to take. Remembering that also made Dean remember other...stuff.
Like, how they'd been unable to look each other in the eye all day, and then that night...how they'd...just...messed around a little bit. Just a little. And then after, they'd sworn each other to secrecy about it, promising never to do it again.
Dean was already blushing beet red from the unconscious attention of his sleeping brother, but the memory of that night made him want to squirm. Hank was shifting slightly, moving more on top of him and clutching at his shoulders a little desperately in his sleep.
A wayward thrust brought Hank's hip bone right over his groin, and Dean bit back a surprised gasp at the sudden heat that rushed through his stomach. And Hank kept steadily grinding into him, now hitting his unwanted erection at a better angle.
Dean had to wake him up, to stop this, but...Gosh, it would be embarrassing. Hank would probably boot him out of his bed and never let Dean comfort him again. Which would be horrible. Dean didn't want to do that, so he tried to figure out what to do.
Well, he could just sorta...push Hank off him, right? True, Hank was heavier than him, but he could wiggle out from underneath. With that tactic in mine, Dean shifted a little, arching his back and tilting his hips to the side as he tried to move.
“Mmmmm...Dean...”
Dean froze. Hank should not be saying his name in such an...aroused fashion. And Dean...Well, Dean should certainly not get all flushed upon hearing his brother moan his name like that.
But he did.
His stomach got all tense and he wanted to squirm again, into his brother. But, that wasn't acceptable, and he tried to get away again, without waking Hank and making this whole thing so much more uncomfortable than it already was. Once more, he shifted his body, tilting his hips to the side to make sliding away easier.
Before he could escape, Hank's hands clutched harder at his shoulders, keeping him trapped, and he realized abruptly that Hank was awake.
“No...Stay...” Came Hank's needy breath in his ear. Sweaty palms groped down his chest then, pawing under the bottom hem of his pajama shirt and swiftly stealing underneath to flatten against Dean's stomach.
“H-Hank?!” Dean whispered fiercely, his breath hitching slightly at his brothers hands upon his skin. Then there was another slow grind against his thigh, resulting in a long press of hip into groin, and Dean whimpered. “What are you d-doing?”
But Hank only pushed his hands up Dean's stomach, fingers fanning out over the sensitive buds of Dean's nipples.
“Hank!” Dean yelped, ineffectually pushing at the heavier boy's shoulders. “S-Stop that!” It was no use though, and Hank merely burrowed deeper into Dean's neck.
“Deano...” He murmured, still grinding into Dean's thigh and brushing his hands awkwardly over Dean's chest. “I just...”
Dean felt his body reacting alarmingly to his brother's ministrations, and his stomach clenched without his meaning to. “Hank! Stop! We said we'd never do this again!” Which was true. Sure, they'd messed around, experimenting a little bit with each other, but, that had just been that one time. And they'd only...touched each other a bit. It hadn't been anything like this.
Dean almost shrieked as Hank suddenly pulled back enough to press his lips sloppily to Dean's.
They'd never...kissed before.
Not like this. With Hank awkwardly licking at his closed lips, like he was trying to eat ice cream or something. Dean opened his mouth in surprise, about to tell Hank to get off him, but then there was a demanding tongue shoved past his lips.
Teeth clacked together, and there was far too much spit involved for Dean's comfort and he finally was able to shove Hank off him, but since Hank's bed was so small, his poor brother ended up falling to the floor with a wounded yelp.
“Ow, darn it, Dean! What was that for!” He whined indignantly, rubbing at his bottom.
Dean could only blink down at him, painfully aware that he was very hard and it was sticking up and forming an embarrassing tent in his pajama pants. “You...Well, you were...kissing me! What was that for?”
Hank only sat on the floor silently, leaning forward and burying his face into his knees and wrapping his arms around them. He looked so dejected, sitting there in his orange Aquaman shirt and green briefs and socks. Dean couldn't stay mad at him for being so weird.
“Hank? Why did you do that?”
“Nothin'. Shut up.” Came the childish pouty reply, somewhat muffled by Hank's knees.
Still slightly out of breath with the blood rushing through his head, Dean leaned down and lightly touched Hank's shoulder. “But...”
Yanking himself away from Dean's fingers, Hank just snorted. “I said it was nothin! Go away.”
Dean pushed himself off the bed and crouched down at Hank's back, not touching him, but close enough to know the other felt his body heat. “What was that about?”
There was a tremble of Hank's shoulders, almost suppressed, but Dean could still see it. “If you're going to be stubborn, then why don't we just go back to bed?”
“...We?” Hank whispered, sounding hesitant.
“Well, yeah. I'm tired, and I'm sure you are too. It's almost 1 in the morning, and we need to get some rest.” With that, Dean just stood and climbed in his own bed, pulling his covers up to his shoulders and preparing to just ignore what had just happened.
But Hank was climbing in next to him, wringing a surprised squeak from his lips, and making Dean whip himself around. Hank was looking anywhere but at him, and Dean furrowed his brow. “Hank. What is going on with you? Have you been smoking marijuana or something? Because you're-”
Dean was effectively silenced as Hank's sweaty palm closed over his mouth, and he watched wide-eyed as his brother leaned into replaced it with his lips once more.
Dean jerked, trying to shift away, but Hank had a firm grip on his thin shoulders and was pinning his legs. Hank always was heavier than him, more muscled and broad. Though, Dean was an inch taller, so at least he had that.
But there were more demanding issues at the moment than who was taller or bigger, cause Hank was using Dean's distracted surprise to hike up his shirt to his shoulders and begin pawing at his chest again. Though the wayward brush against his nipples felt...good, Dean swatted him away angrily, breaking the kiss and attempting to sit up. “Hey, stop that! I'm not a girl, Hank!”
Hank just moaned, sounding frustrated and aroused, and shoved Dean back onto the bed. “For cracker's sake, Deano, can't you just for once shut up?!”
Dean blinked up at him, surprised by the outburst. But he quickly recovered and frowned. “Well, you'd be asking questions too, if you're brother started...being indecent with you!” Actually, now that Dean thought about it, since Hank was already trying, he probably wouldn't react the same way.
In his distraction, Hank took advantage to tug at his pajama pants, baring his hip bones to the chilled room air.
“Hank! Seriously!” Dean shoved once more, this time only causing the other to fall back to the foot of the bed. “What is wring with you?!”
Suddenly, Hank growled, pouncing forward and planting his palms on Dean's shoulders and shoving him back to the bed, then he threw one leg over Dean's waist and held him down. “Damn it, Dean! Will you just shut up for one damn minute?!”
Dean gawked at his brother. “Hank...” He mumbled quietly, shocked at Hank's behavior. “You...You swore at me.” For whatever reason, his brother's swearing surprised him more than the...other behavior.
Hank's face was a mix of conflicting emotions, and he sat looking down at Dean, who could only wait while whatever was going on his his brother's head sorted itself out. Then, he leaned down again and kissed Dean again, only this time, it was soft. Soft and sweet and unhurried like the others had been. Dean found himself arching his body to get closer because of it.
But then he realized what he was doing and he pulled his face away, turning it to the side and glaring sideways up at the blond. “Hank, just...tell me what's going on.”
Hank seemed to collapse then and he slumped down to drape over Dean, hips and chest and knees all fitting into the spaces of his body. His lips landed near Dean's neck, not touching but there were soft puffs of breath on the skin, making Dean flush uncomfortably.
“I just want...to be close to you. I want...to prove we're real, and here, with each other. Can I...?” Those lips connected with the pulse of Dean's throat and move slowly over it, pressing awkwardly.
His brother's voice had been so heartbroken, so full of longing and fear, that Dean couldn't really say no to him, and besides, he kinda liked what Hank was doing. His brother's erection was still pretty hard and digging into his thigh again, and Dean wondered at how he'd managed to stay hard this whole time, but then Hank's hands smoothed down his stomach and he forgot to care. “Hank! Oh, what-?” He gasped as his brother's fingers smoothed over his hips and around to his back, sneaking under the waistband of his pants and sliding over his butt cheeks, kneading and palming him hesitantly and pulling their groins together. It made Dean's own erection form and he writhed fitfully, alarmed at how much he was enjoying this.
Hank nudged a knee between his thighs and Dean yelped as it rubbed him just the right way. Long muscled thigh pressed up against the underside of his dick, but Hank was still on top of him and holding him down. So he raised his arms and wrapped them around his brother's neck to anchor himself. His hips pressed up on their own, trying for more contact and a throb of heat in his groin made him falter. “Hank! Oh please! I need-”
Hank slapped his hand over Dean's mouth, making him cut off abruptly. “Hey, quiet down!” He whispered fiercely as he settled more securely between Dean's thighs. “You want Brock or Pops to walk in here and see what we're doing?”
Dean paled, shaking his head quickly. That was the last thing in the world he wanted. With the new fear of being caught in his mind, Dean managed to stifle himself slightly, instead latching his panting mouth onto Hank's collarbone as his brother started rubbing up and down his body. Hank was panting in his ear and mumbling something unintelligible, and Dean could almost picture his brother's face, most likely screwed up in concentration as he sought relief.
Then Hank reared up onto his hands, straightening his elbows and quickly thrusting against the juncture of Dean's thighs, whimpering and grunting softly, then he tensed and shuddered before collapsing back onto Dean's chest.
Something hot and wet soaked through Hank's little briefs and Dean's almost choked in embarrassment, but he was even more embarrassed by the fact that he hadn't been able to orgasm yet and he very much wanted too. He tried to keep from wiggling his hips, but it was no use, and Hank must have noticed cause he lifted his head tiredly and smiled at Dean, leaning down to give him another sloppy inexperienced kiss. But it didn't last long, and Hank pulled back, making Dean looked up in confusion at his brother's odd expression.
Then, his pajama bottoms were yanked down to his knees, baring his erection, and next Hank was going down too, hands on Dean's stomach and lips kissing at his knobby hip bones. A wet tongue licked at his erection, swiping up it slowly, and Dean bucked up, squealing. “Oh god! Ahhn!”
Dean bit down hard on his hand to stifle the scream welling up in his throat as he shuddered and started to come, attempting to shove Hank away before it was too late. “Oh god! Hank, don't-”
But Hank just held on, not moving his mouth and still sucking on him like he was a lollipop. It felt too good, too intense, and Dean moaned loudly, hips jerking as he tried to pull away. Then, the shocks grew softer and Dean still whimpered as it went from mind-shattering to still-good. His arm was a dead-weight over his eyes, and he let it fall to the side limply as he peered up at the ceiling.
Then Hank sat up by his thighs and spat on the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and making a face. “Jeez, that's foul.” He spat again. “Deano, you might wanna talk to Pops about that. I think there's something wrong with you.”
Dean blushed hotly, turning onto his side and pulling the sheet over his naked hips. “That's not my fault! A boy's ejaculate is comprised mostly of enzymes, salt, proteins-”
Dean was cut off once again by Hank's hand sliding over his mouth, smelling distinctly of skin and musk. A strong whiff off Dean's own teenage scent rushed up his nostrils and he blushed even redder at the reminder of what Hank's hand had just done to him.
“Dean, I don't need a science lesson, I know what's in your spunk.” Hank said sternly, ignoring Dean's embarrassed sputter. “I took the same capsule courses as you did, alright? Now, don't turn away from me. I mean, gosh, I'm a little weirded out by what just happened to but-” Dean jerked, grunting accusingly, but Hank continued, not moving away his hand. “Yeah, I know, I was the one who approached you, but...I don't know, Deano...” Hank shuffled up the bed to lay cautiously by Dean's side, and he let his hand slid away, though Dean had no intention to speak. “I just...Reading that stuff about being clones, and maybe not being real, made me feel so...so lonely and unimportant. And then I started thinking about you, and how maybe I was just a clone, and what if you were still real. Like, that really messed me up, cause you're my brother, my younger twin and I didn't...” Hank trailed off, eyes sad. “I didn't want to feel like I didn't have a connection with my only brother. I needed to make...I...I love you, Deano.” The blond blushed, looking away and chuckling in embarrassment. “I sound like a ninny, don't I?”
Dean didn't think so at all. All it took was one brief second to wonder how he would react if he thought him and Hank weren't real original brothers, and he knew he'd have reacted the same...Well, maybe not the exact same way, but in a similar way to how Hank had. His fingers rose of their own accord and brushed against Hank's cheek, making his brother turn in surprise. “It's okay, Hank. I understand why you...Uh...It's okay.”
They were silent for the moment, each a little uncomfortable from their previous actions, but also closer because of them. Biting on the inside of his cheeks, Dean finally just decided that they could deal with it later, and he adjusted the wayward sheets up to their original place around his waist and he moved them to make room for Hank. “Come on, it's late. Let's just go to sleep.”
After a moment's hesitation, Hank lifted his knees and crawled into the space opened up, tucking his legs under the sheets as well and laying on his side by Dean's back. A slow reluctant hand rose up in the sides of his vision and he saw it hover over his side. Then, Dean felt Hank fully rest that hand on his hip. It felt comforting and they both fell back asleep.
THE END
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