Work Text:
Mikey stumbles his way into the house way past midnight, kicking off one shoe by the door and the other one half way towards the stairs. Of course, with how much noise he's making, he wakes his older brother up.
The door to Gerard's bedroom creaks open, he stands there, in star wars pants and an old faded band shirt that's still stained with paint. Rubbing his eye as he mumbles out “Mikey… you good man” Mikey can't stop the giggle that falls from his lips, not that anything was particularly funny, he was just that wasted. “Yeah… yeah Gee, I'm good” his words came out slurred and barely understandable “yeah? You don't look too good, kid…”
“Okay, maybe I feel a little sick… but” he just grins, his face scrunching up as he stumbles backwards slightly “well… don't puke on the fucking carpet, mum will kill you” Gerard lets out a sigh as he watches mikey slump against the banister, almost tumbling down the stairs. He grips Mikey's arm, pulling him down the hallway “come on, kiddo” Mikey lets out a groan, but follows anyway “can't keep calling me kid… I'm… I'm an adult now” another drunken giggle fell from his mouth, it was almost cute, if he didn't look like he was about to throw up all over himself. “Yeah… you sure are buddy”
Gerard shoves the bathroom door open, dragging Mikey into the room as he flicks the light on. The younger boy steadies himself against the counter as he watches his brother close the door. “Glasses” Mikey looks down at Gerard, a confused look on his face that makes his older brother sigh. He reaches up slowly, gently pulls Mikey's glasses off. “So they don't fall of when you puke”
“I don't feel like throwing up” he tries to reach for his glasses again, his vision that was already blurry from the alcohol, now even worse. “You probably should… come on” he gently tugs Mikey towards the toilet, his thin body moving like a wet noodle. He didn't fall gracefully or gently. His knees hitting the tiled floor with a loud thump that makes Gerard wince.
The young boy held his head above the toilet bowl, a grimace on his face “Gee… i can't…” his voice was bordering on whiny and petulant. Gerard slots himself behind Mikey, reaching around to bring his hand up to his little brother's face “open your mouth… trust me, i can help” and Mikey trusts Gerard more than anyone in the entire world, so without even thinking, his mouth falls open. Just wide enough for Gerard's fingers to slide in.
Mikey's thin body tenses up as he gags around his brother's fingers, his throat constricting against them. Mikey shoves Gerard's hand away just in time, the alcohol burning his throat on the way up. As Mikey heaved into the toilet all Gerard could focus on was how good it felt when Mikey's throat was constricting around his fingers, or the sounds of his gagging. It was definitely fucked up, getting turned on from making your own brother throw up, but he honestly didn't care, and Mikey was drunk enough to forget all about this… Hopefully.
With the little focus Mikey had, all being directed on throwing up, it was easy for Gerard to unbuckle the younger boy's belt, he hand slid past the hem of Mikey's jeans, rubbing him through his boxers “Gee… wha… what are you doing?” His voice was rough from having just thrown up, but it somehow made him hotter. “Just relax Mikey, I'm just trying to make you feel better. Isn't that what big brothers are for?”
With his lowered inhibitions, Mikey's hips grinded upwards into Gerard's hand, seeking pleasure, and a distraction from the pain in his stomach and the burning feeling in his throat. Mikey gasps as Gerard shoves his hand down his boxers, stroking his hard cock, his fingers still coated in Mikey's saliva.
Mikey slumps back against Gerard's body, his hips clumsily rocking against his brother's hand. “That's it Mikey” Mikey’s whining moans echo around the bathroom as he reaches back, grasping at Gerards messy hair “ahh… f-fuck… Gee” he bucks his hips upwards in a messy, uneven pace, chasing his pleasure in his own brother's hand. His face is flushed red and sweaty as he comes, spilling into his boxers and Gerard's hand. “Feel better now, Mikey?” He gives a rough nod, a whimper tumbling from his mouth in place of words. Gerard presses a kiss to his temple, dragging the taller boy with him as he stands. “Come on, let's get you to bed, birthday boy…”
Mikey wakes up the next morning, hungover and feeling like shit. There's puke around the collar of his shirt and cum staining his boxers and jeans that he never changed out of. And the best part of it all… he was too drunk to remember the feeling of his brother's hands on him.