incomplete.

[that-flies.livejournal.com]

Title: Incomplete.
Pairing: Zbynek/Milan Michalek
Teams: Phoenix Coyotes/ San Jose Sharks
Rating: okay mix between pg-13 and R is...?
Zbynek's POV.
A/N: [INCEST!!!]
Well... for some reason I always thought Milan was older than Zbynek, so that's how I wrote it. Just please go along with the nonsense story? D:
The 'newer' stuff set during the 2008 summer.
My poor computer died so yay for...real notebooks. (Oh! I am so funny, I can hear you laughing from here. XD)
Keep in mind I wrote this like a week ago and it probably has spelling errors because as much as I'd like paper to have spell check, that has sadly not been invented yet.
By the way, Zbynek is supposed to be around 21 in this. I know Milan is 24 in real life, so I used that figure. *Now* I do know Milan is actually two years younger...
To add to my corny-ness, yes, the title and cut are from Incomplete by the Backstreet Boys. It's not my fault, I swear, it came on when I started writing.
Plot: Milan sorta kinda like tries to fuck Zbynek and Zbynek finds himelf craving Milan and yadayadaya. My not-so-legitimate legitimate reason for using the song in the first place.

My mom used to tell me that when I was a baby, my brother Milan used to look at me for hours. Just stare at me. He was little though, and she thought nothing more of it. As I grew older, though, so did his actions. He started by touching my face and rubbing my head. When I was 5, it had progressed to him stroking my stomach. My mom then separated us. His room was no longer closer to mine and she was going to watch his every move.

One day, when I was 9, he walked into my room after returning home from a hockey game. He dropped his bag next to my door and shut it.

"Lie down. Right there." He pointed to my bed. I started shaking and curled myself up in a tight ball.

"Mom told you to leave me alone."

"Well, she's not here to stop me." He threw me down to my bed. "I said lie down." His hands snaked up my neck and started chocking me. I squirmed beneath his force. "I like watching you struggle." He snarled through clenched teeth.

Once I'd given up trying to free myself from his grasp, he let go of my neck. Instead forcing his hands hard against my ribcage and knocking any remaining air out of me. He screamed jumbled words at me, ripped off my pajama pants and tied my wrists together behind my back with them. He bit my bottom lip and tugged it sideways, back and forth, like a dog with a toy it doesn't want to drop. He scratched his fingers against my cheek and bit deeper into my lip until it began to bleed.

I felt something hard strike me in the pelvis and found it come from within Milan's jeans. He arched back in pain and squeezed his eyes shut. He whispered my name and reached out his sweaty palm for me. I grabbed it and he brought my hand to his zipper to undo it. The bulge in his pants expanded and he started to sway sideways. A large wetness spread it's way across his underwear.

"Milan!?!"

"I'm-I'm okay." He muttered.

I let him fall into me and he fainted in my arms. I left him there and when he went looking for me, I hid.

The first time, in a long time, I was reminded of this. Mom called and insisted that Milan and I return home for the summer. But seeing as the Sharks were still battling in the Playoffs, I had to wait. I wasn't going to go home early and have to wait for Milan to arrive. No, I was going to wait, I was going with him on the flight. Of course, my plan didn't take the best turn because Milan hurt his shoulder. Guess he had to go like that back home with me.

He and I sat next to each other on the plane, but we didn't say much. I just kept looking over at him and how he held his injured side. Wincing as he moved it, even though it was in a sling. I extended my arm to touch him, but instinctively pulled it back. He'd been watching me and clamped my wrist with his good arm, placing it on top of his swollen shoulder. My heart pounded heavily against my ribs and I slipped my hand off his shoulder to rest it on his thigh.

The more hours that passed, the more drowsy I felt. I slid down the seat and my head rested on his lap. His free arm formed a protective grip around my chest and he bent forward to coo in my ear. He russled his nose though my hair and kissed the top of my head.

We were silent as we walked into the house. It was all too familiar, the smell, the colors. I didn't flinch when his hot breath sailed across the back of my neck. He slid his fingers with ease down my core and over my crotch.

I'd been for this, waiting for him to finish what he'd started twelve years ago. Here we both were, in the same house it all began in.

I was interruppted by his lips on mine. We drifted down to the floor, where he laid me on top of him. I pressed my fingertips down the sides of his muscular body. He lifted his face back to my level where he rubbed his nose with mine. I nibbled with caution on his tongue. He stroked his palms down my chest and dragged me down. Looking me in the eyes, he stretched farther down and started massaging my cock forcefully.

He had such precision that in one stroke, he'd also unzipped my pants. The next downward stroke his took, pulled my boxers beneath my cock, though they still were on my hips. The longer he stroked, the harder I got. He rubbed faster up and down my shaft. I could feel myself contracting in his grasp and without any control, I spewed precum into his unsuspecting hands. He wiped the liquid onto his pants.

"Come on Zbynek, you're almost there."

His voice made me hard again and he positioned himself his mouth directly on my tip. I clenched my fists into his back and bit the inside of lips to quiet my moans. Milan had started to such lightly and that was all I needed. His expectant mouth savored every last drop I could press out. He brushed my face and run his hand through my wet hair. He whispered I'm proud of you and cradled me in his arms.