Randoms:

Ryan had been half in love with Brock since the day his mum married Brock’s dad. He was sixteen then; Brock was nineteen, already a six-foot-four rugby prop with shoulders like doorframes and a perpetual tan from summer training camps. Brock moved through the house like he owned every inch of it, shirtless in the mornings, towel slung low after showers, the thick outline of his cock visible through damp fabric when he bothered with boxers at all. He’d clap Ryan on the back too hard, call him “little bro” with that easy, oblivious grin, and never once seemed to notice how Ryan’s eyes lingered on the dark trail of hair disappearing into his waistband, or how his breath caught every time Brock stretched and his abs flexed into sharp relief.

Ryan told himself it was hopeless. Brock was straight, girls in and out of his room, loud laughter on the phone, the occasional “mate, she was fit” tossed casually over breakfast. Ryan kept his fantasies locked tight: late-night wanks to mental images of Brock pinning him down, that massive cock splitting him open. He never dared hope.

Then their parents booked a ten-day cruise for their anniversary. They left on a Thursday morning with sun hats and selfies, waving from the driveway. “Be good, boys,” Mum called. Brock just smirked and saluted.

The house felt different the moment the car disappeared around the corner, charged, expectant.

Friday night Ryan couldn’t sleep. He locked his bedroom door, dimmed the lamp, and pulled up his usual porn stash: big-dicked tops railing eager bottoms. He was three videos in, shorts around his thighs, hand slick and flying, when the door handle turned.

He’d forgotten to check the lock twice.

Brock stood in the doorway, gym shorts low on his hips, arms crossed over his bare chest. His eyes flicked from Ryan’s flushed face to the laptop screen, moans still tinny through the speakers, then down to where Ryan’s hand was frozen mid-stroke on his leaking cock.

For one endless second, silence.

Then Brock smirked.

“Caught you, little bro.”

Ryan scrambled to slam the laptop shut, yanking his shorts up, words tumbling out in panic. “It’s not…I didn’t…fuck, sorry…”