Have some religious imagery Harrison x Jackson (also features Jackson x Carson), bitches love religious imagery
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Religious themes and imagery, praying, incest, unhealthy relationships, blowjobs, potentially abusive relationships
You can read it on ao3 now or below the cut!
Harrison had never really cared for going down on someone, especially not guys. In the past, whenever Jackson had propositioned him for this, he had been brushed off and told to seek out Carson if he wanted it so badly. Some of the time, he would. But Carson had always been quicker to verbally complain than Harrison. Jackson would be buried deep inside of his throat with Carson halfheartedly sucking before carefully pulling his head away. He’d look up at Jackson with watery eyes and a soft pout, and ask him if that was enough because his jaw was beginning to ache.
Most of the time, Jackson wouldn’t even bother with seeking Carson out. He knew it always left him unfulfilled and often more frustrated than when he started. He’d end up jerking himself off just the same, but after Carson’s feeble attempt, he was a lot more riled up and it brought out an ugly side of him. He hated that side of him, the one that contemplated purposefully hurting his brothers. That was something he always pushed down. And for Harrison’s lack of interest in certain things, one thing that could be said was that he never let himself do something halfway.
He wasn’t Carson. If by some miracle, he agreed to going down, he always devoted himself completely to it. Harrison had always viewed things as meaningless if people didn’t actually apply themselves to it; he'd be angry if he knew how Carson acted on the days when Jackson did seek him out. So, Jackson kept it to himself and lied to Harrison about finding the release he needed. It wasn’t easy, Harrison seemed to have an eye for dishonesty. Jackson had somehow worked his way around that and Harrison seemed to trust him enough to not question it.
“Why would I keep going to him if he didn’t do a good job?” Jackson had laughed as though his words were the most obvious thing in the world. More than anything, Harrison hated feeling ridiculous or as though he was missing something that was obvious to everyone else. Rage had flickered through his angelic features for a moment before he told Jackson that he knew that, he simply had to make sure. Harrison had changed the subject quickly after and Jackson was grateful.
Harrison’s wrath was terrifying when it was directed at one of them which was admittedly rare. He’d never raised a hand to either of them, he didn’t believe in it. But he was quick to berate them for their missteps, sometimes spending days harping about the same thing. Once something was in his mind, he wouldn’t let it go until he was certain the same actions would not be repeated. He didn’t raise his voice often, mostly just whenever one of them had severely messed up and their safety had been called into question. The idea of reckless endangerment of Jackson or Carson angered him the most.
His screaming fits were most often accompanied by him throwing things or knocking them off whatever surface they rested on. His aim was always directed well away from Jackson and Carson, even when he was blinded most by rage. It was never about hurting them, it was never even about frightening them. It was always just his frustration and fear becoming too great, having no place to go, and him needing to let it out before it ate him alive.
Harrison would be sobbing and trembling once the adrenaline left his body, one or both of them clinging to him to ground him back to Earth. He’d force their eyes to meet his and make beg them to tell him they knew why he did it. That they knew he loved them more than anything else on the planet and that his actions were only ever spurred by that intense adoration for them. They always knew. Jackson would always pet his hair and wipe his eyes, assuring him they loved him too, even in moments like those. Carson did nothing but exist, letting Harrison hold him and acting as a reminder that they were still there with him. That they hadn’t disappeared away from him.
Once he could breathe again, Harrison would always slip away from them. In the beginning, it had scared them and they pursued him as he retreated into his bedroom. They had been silent as they watched him drop to his knees beside his head and his head bowed. His hands clasped together in front of him and they fidgeted restlessly as he quickly murmured to himself. It was impossible to make out his words, but it was obvious he was praying. They scurried back to the living room to give him his privacy with the Lord. Harrison had always been the most religious of them.
Jackson’s faith had naturally left him as he grew older and Carson’s had never been strong to begin with, being raised in a slightly different generation that just didn’t put the same type of pressure on those things. But Harrison’s had always held firm. Despite it all, he was a hedonist in every sense of the word. His religion never stopped him from doing what he wanted. He’d always do it and simply ask for forgiveness later, believing in a merciful God rather than a vindictive one. He would take whatever punishment he needed, whether it was a natural consequence or a self-inflicted one, and would believe himself to once again be clean in the eyes of the Lord.
Despite it all, he saw Jackson and Carson in the same light as himself. Despite everything they did and believed, they were nothing short of innocent. They were perfect to him. Even when they had their disagreements, even when they fought and screamed, and used every harsh word their minds could conjure. Jackson’s weakest moment hadn’t even been an actual fight, honestly more of brotherly banter than anything else. He had been tired and sick, and Harrison had offered him anything he wanted to make him feel better. Of course, Jackson had asked for Harrison to suck him off.
“Why not? Does it make you feel too close to God when you’re down on your knees and sucking my cock?” Jackson had demanded, words feeling harsh as they tumbled out of his mouth. He hadn’t even thought about them before he said them. That was the first and only time Harrison had ever hit him, fist colliding with his jaw before he could even register what was happening. And honestly, he deserved it. Harrison later apologized for losing control of himself, but Jackson never took back his own words. He had a sneaking suspicion he hadn’t been wrong about them.
It wasn’t to say Harrison never went down, that certainly wasn’t true. He would do it at times and he did it well when he did. It felt extra tortuous like that and part of Jackson wished the older man was bad at it. He wouldn’t miss it as much if Harrison was unskilled or unenthusiastic, but he was neither of those things. That was why Jackson was already so close to finishing when Harrison had only just started blowing him. He would always finish embarrassingly fast when it was Harrison. But he never felt judged when he was with him, his brother always treated the act as sacred.
Jackson’s fingers carded through his brother’s hair as he rested on his knees carefully. Harrison was still wearing his cross. Jackson knew it was a weird thing to focus on when his older brother was down on his knees in front of him, soft lips wrapped around his cock. But Jackson couldn’t keep his eyes off of the tiny necklace. It was small and silver, a thin cross that hung low on Harrison’s chest, easily hidden beneath his shirt when he had it on.
He was fully nude for Jackson now, though. Every inch of delicate skin exposed for the younger man’s pleasure. It was a stark contrast between Harrison being completely stripped down and Jackson still wearing all of his clothes. Harrison had simply undone his jeans and pushed them out of the way enough to pull his cock out. Jackson hadn’t complained about being left clothed when Harrison had stroked his soft skin until he hardened beneath his touch nor when Harrison had licked a broad stripe across the head of his cock. That had drawn a sudden, broken moan from Jackson’s throat.
This act was selfless and Jackson knew it was purely for his benefit. He watched as Harrison continued licking along his skin, making a twisted face when the acrid taste of precum hit his tongue. Yet, he persisted. His lips had wrapped completely around the tip and begun suckling gently, willing to take his time to worship at Jackson’s altar. Jackson’s fingers moved to play with the delicate chain around Harrison’s throat, letting the man move at his own pace. He wanted to lose control and force Harrison down to take the rest of him, but he also wanted to savor this moment.
He wanted it to last for as long as it could. Harrison took more of him at his own pace and it turned out to be perfect, a good mix of fast enough to keep Jackson’s attention without seeming like he was rushing through it. He seemed to be perfectly attuned to Jackson’s body and pleasure. And as Jackson gasped for air, he felt holy. It was as though he found Christ at the back of Harrison’s throat. The feelings overtaking him were damn near a religious experience. He wanted a picture of this moment, Harrison nearly praying at his feet and pleasure in every one of Jackson’s veins.
“Heavenly Father,” Jackson choked out the words and Harrison’s eyebrows furrowed, but he never broke away from the task at hand. They both had their eyes closed, the hand on Harrison’s necklace gripping so tightly it nearly choked him. “We thank you for allowing us this moment and the abundance of blessing that has fallen on our family. Guide us through penance for these actions and allow us forgiveness in your eyes,” Harrison seemed to be intent on getting Jackson off at this point, putting all his energy into it. Jackson tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat as he felt his orgasm washing over him and seeming to take him away with it. “Please deliver us from sin and protect us from temptation. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Jackson inhaled sharply as his body trembled, eyes staying closed as he finished down Harrison’s throat. Before he had come, his hand had loosened enough so that Harrison could pull away if he wanted to. Both of them knew Jackson wouldn’t judge him for doing so, but he never did. He was intent on seeing his actions through to the very end. His eyebrows furrowed at the first shot of warmth hitting the back of his throat, but he stayed where he was and swallowed regardless. He drank down everything Jackson gave him as though it had been consecrated.
“Are you okay?” Jackson asked shakily as he finally finished, pulling himself free from Harrison’s mouth to avoid overstimulation. Immediately, Harrison’s head had fallen with eyes still closed. His head hung low and Jackson reached a hand to cup the side of Harrison’s face, his thumb stroking over warm skin. “Harry?” He murmured when he didn’t get a response quick enough, worried it had been too much for him in some way or another. But Harrison simply nodded.
“Yeah,” Harrison replied in the softest voice Jackson had ever heard him use. His voice sounded hoarse from his throat being used and Jackson worried he had been too rough with Harrison. But his brother was stronger than anyone else he’d ever met and certainly wouldn’t have been quiet if something hurt. He’d never been the type to suffer in silence and Jackson had never been more grateful for it. He kept his hand holding Harrison, just grounding him to the moment and giving him something real to hold onto. A few long seconds passed before Harrison uttered a final word, “amen.”