I carefully ease my fingers from Oliver’s wet hole, watching for any signs of discomfort, and slick my cock before dragging him down the bed and into my lap. His ass settles on my thighs as his head rests just below Nash’s soft cock and loose balls. The pair of them watch me—one of Oliver’s hands laced with one of Nash’s hands as Nash strokes Oliver’s flushed throat, and upper chest. Soothing him, maybe. Even though Oliver is older than me by eight minutes, and does eight minutes really even count between brothers, I’ve always been his caretaker. On bad…