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![Story written by LigeiaMaloy /// CoverArt and Characters by BlastedKing
Story on DeviantArt
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Plans within plans
The night was different from the day in only one aspect – darkness. No matter how dark the sky was, the heat never left the streets. The air stood still; it smelled of tar, of exhaust gases, of humans and of their sweat. Only those whose home was on the ground-floor reluctantly kept the windows shut. No resident of this part of the city would voluntarily offer their home and belongings to a stranger’s face – or rather to a barrel of a loaded, unlocked gun.
[[MORE]]
The absence of the burning sun mislead to the impression of decreasing head, but it was like It often was with first impressions – deceiving.
A few steps, even without haste, and breathing became already harder; shirts and light summer summer dresses stuck to the bodies within only a few minutes.
Streetlights and smugly cool shining stars along with the darkness reminded as the only ones that the day was over.
One look at the clock warned – the new morning wasn’t far away anymore.
Not all residents found sleep in a night like this.
Those of this district with a regular job tossed and turn in their beds, sweaty and exhausted. At daybreak they would be as tired as at the evening before.
So far after midnight the street might have been empty; most of the people however didn’t sleep. They flocked together – in taverns, in pubs, the only locations where it was even warmer than outside.
The street was living from the night; the night was the crossing into another world that was unimpressed by the late hour, the summer heat or freezing cold.
As long as people had a few extra coins left in their pockets and, more important, lust and desire for soft skin and willing flesh, the brothels of this world would open their gates.
Red and orange colored light began to flicker from the first minute of dusk; laughter, smells of perfume and expensive, thinned drinks beckoned.
Those whose senses finally grew tired of these charms, but who still weren’t ready and tired enough for their beds at home, surrounded themselves with thick veils of smoke and too loud music. They found refuge in places with fine-sounding, decidedly harmless names like “Home Sweet Home”.
The “Sweet Home”, as it was called most of the time, was as well-visited at usual this night.
Close to the whorehouses, but without a direct view to the sinful alleys, it was a popular and even from wary wives tolerated bar.
Its once modern splendor had faded, but many still wallowed in the nostalgia of the 40s, when the “Sweet Home” had been taken over by its new owners.
After a fire in the 50s many furniture and the wiring of the old building had been replaced.
Now, in the late 60s, the charm of the gone years still remained, as did a faint scent of burnt wood that would never vanish completely.
Sure, still calling it a bar bent the truth – only the choice of drinks somewhat resembled that of a modern bar of today, and, on a few evenings, the choice of music.
By itself, the “Sweet Home” was a pub. Blue-collar workers liked to meet here, especially on wet fall days, cold winter evenings, fresh spring nights and after a hot summer afternoon.
Strangers enjoyed to stay as well. They often visited after almost emptying their pockets for a favorable madam a few minutes around the corner, leaving them with a few last coins for a glass or two of cheap beer.
Women were rare guests, and those who came, were older. The few younger ladies who came once in a while were not 30 yet, but already on the wrong side of 20. They mostly trusted that, after the second drink, most men still found a note in the hidden folds of their wallet for a quick, cheap amusement.
Tonight, the two men who stood with slightly bent shoulders over their drinks at the counter were the youngest guests of the “Sweet Home”. They weren’t older than 24 or 25, but that wasn’t interesting about them. Even the broad shoulders and the athletic built of their bodies hardly caught any attention. Really fascinating to look at were the pale and in every detail identical faces. Twins were a rare sight.
Especially handsome twins like these. The almost unearthly resemblance didn’t only catch the interest of the few women present.
However, only one look in their eyes – bluer than the sky and cold as ice – let men and women alike halt before they dared to even say one single word to the young guests.
The barkeeper was a scraggy man whose long ponytail had become thinner and whiter with the passing years and that couldn’t hide the bald patch on top of his head. He had served beer and hard liquor for long enough – even before the fire, before the owners had changed.
These guys meant trouble, a quick glance out of the corner of his eye had been enough to notice the restless sparkle in the twins’ eyes. If his experience didn’t completely deceive him, he was certain that those men shouldn’t be underestimated, especially the slightly more muscular one. Even if his face remained blank when his brother whispered something in his ear and burst into laughter.
This kind of men, the barkeeper knew, were the most dangerous kind. Like a seemingly peaceful volcano before an eruption, or an unexpected storm surge. If the violence broke out of this silent guy, the barkeeper didn’t want to be the one to take care of it, and fortunately, this wouldn’t be his job. He only served them beer, and later, he would collect the amount due.
Everything else wasn’t his business.
With a shrug, he wiped over the wooden surface of the counter with a stained towel and threw it over his shoulder when he was done.
“Lothar! Your turn! And bring another round of beer!”
Right, these old blokes were thirsty, but not drunk enough yet to not understand why they would lose the game of dice against him later.
“Hey, are ya even listening to me, kiddo?” The more talkative twin gave his brother a nudge with his elbow.
“I tell ya, that’s gonna be the best shit we’ve ever pulled off!” His voice became unclear when he shoved a cigarette between his lips. A click, a second click, and the small flame of the battered lighter burnt long enough to lighten it. A sudden coughing fit didn’t prevent him from continuing his speech.
“Those assholes ain’t deserve any better! Fucking nut house. For every fucked-up day I’m gonna bust their asses a bit more, every single one of those motherfuckers!” He coughed again. He had had his last cigarette too long ago, but what did it matter? He had enough time to got used to them again. He tapped the ash off his cigarette to the floor and with his free hand, he slapped on his twin’s shoulder.”
“Ya ain’t shitting ya pants, are ya?” Being somewhere between anger and overeagerness just a second ago, he changed to light, almost docile banter.
“Those pricks gave ya a raw deal after all, too, right?” Almost gently, too gently for a brotherly touch, his fingertips ran over his twin’s neck, only for a second. The he gave him another slap on his back, forcefully enough to thoroughly spill the contents of a glass. If the talked-to twin had held his beer in his hands, if he had touched it at all.
“Gabe, all the more for that! Listen up! Tomorrow we gonna march through that door, you smash the face of the first white-wearing motherfucker ya seein’ and then take that shitty dump to pieces! We gonna tear every single one of them to pieces who pulled this shit with us!”
Supporting himself by putting his arm on the counter, he leaned forward and looked directly into his brother’s face.
“Don’t ya tell me ya wouldn’t enjoy this. In the end we gonna beat each other up who’s gonna wring the last fucker’s neck. See, told ya!”
This was the big advantage of having a twin, especially when there was such a tight bond like this between those two brothers.
Satisfied with himself, he straightened himself again, reached for his beer and emptied it in one go.
“Don’t ya forget, no more respawn. If ya promise me not to beat me to a bloody pulp, I ain’t gonna do that, too.”
Nobody cared much about the conversation of others, as long as they weren’t about about oneself. It was loud; the room was too small for so many voices, music from an old jukebox and the curses of an elderly carpenter, who just had lost the rest of his wage in a game of dice.
But the heads turned when the twin whose arms were covered with bandages up to his shoulders burst out with laughter, and for a short moment, the conversations had stalled.
The friendly gesture of fondling the hair of his still silent brother didn’t match the cruel sound coming from his mouth. The temperature seemed to drop by a few degree and not only a few felt an ice-cold shudder running down their spines, even more hardened men.
Those of the guests who saw the twins face when he threw back his head were scared. This wasn’t laughing – the white, bared teeth, revealed by a humorless grin weren’t even a threat – it was a promise. Blood would be spilled.
Some of the visitors waited a few more minutes until the babel of voices hesitantly returned. When the fearful moment was over, they stood up, paid their bill and hurried to get away from the street, right home to their still too warm, but safe beds. Hopefully safe.
Unimpressed by the interlude, the barkeeper nodded to them when the twin waved at him, and brought them another beer. He hesitated. The glass of the other brother was still full to the brim, the beer foam had already gone. It was impossible that this drink was still enjoyable, especially as the silent twin – Gabe, if he had heard it correctly – held the glass tightly with both hands.
A look into his face, and he kept his words to himself. Only a fool would throw a burning match into a lake filled with gasoline.
The awkward atmosphere that could unfortunately damage his business was just relaxing again, so he knew better than provoking one of those two madmen. No, he would do his job and supply them with beer. Besides, the night wasn’t over yet:
The door opened – another late guest, and the barkeeper sight. This person wasn’t very welcome her, but well, business first, as he always said. Time to care about the drinks. The twin already demanded more; how many glasses had that been now? Four? Five?
“Nah, forget it, drink ya dishwater yaself,” he was just repelling. At the twin’s question, if his brother didn’t want to finally drink his beer, he had shoved his glass over to him without a word.
“I can do well without such heated up piss. Idiot, ya have to drink this stuff while it’s still cold!”
“Mike? Is that you? My, this must have been, like, forever!”
The barkeeper turned his back to the small group, restraining himself not to laugh out loudly. With all the danger radiating from these guys – when such a shrill voice began to shriek directly and unexpectedly next to someone’s ear, even insane twins gave a start. Well, hopefully this didn’t mean trouble inside of the bar. However, sooner or later it would be sorted out; time to mind his own business.
“Stop screaming around, got it?” Mike hissed. He turned around and hesitated. His hands had already been raised for a blow, but he would either have to drop his beer or his cigarette.
The young women was about his age, a bit smaller and, of course, more delicate. She wore her long hair in a casual, untidy bun so that she had to shove loose strands out of her face over and over again. This alone already irritated him, and the weird orange color and the chemical smell made him sick.
No, she certainly wasn’t worth the waste of beer or tobacco.
At least she smiled at him, and even if he didn’t remember her face, he remembered this kind of expression.
Sparkling eyes, flushed cheeks, silly giggling. His brother wasn’t of much use today, so why not having fun with a girl again, for a change? They could get rid of her later anytime, one way or another.
He put his glass down and leaned with his back against the counter. He took a pull on his cigarette and grinned at her while he slowly breathed out the smoke through his mouth and nose.
“And ya knowin’ me from where again, beautiful?” In his eyes, ‘beautiful’ was definitely something else, but it didn’t matter.
‘Chicks dig this gab. When ya ain’t looking at their cake hole, they are all the same anyway,’ he thought not for the first time while being confronted with a woman with obvious intentions towards him. She wasn’t aware what caused his grin. She smiled even wider and blushed. Easy prey for Mike.
“Don’t you remember? Well, how should you, we haven’t seen each other, like, in ages! I was 15 and you, uh…” She thought about it for a moment, as if she had to count the years with the help of invisible fingers in her head.
“17, right? You know, my hair was black back then, but this looks so much prettier don’t you think so, too?” With a coquettish smile she wrapped another orange strand of her hair around her finger and let it bounce in front of her nose.
“Very pretty,” Mike assured her, not at all interested in her hair.
“Anyway, I’m Nicole, hi!” she finally introduced herself. She stretched out her hand but pulled it away quickly when Mike only stared at her while his smile began to fade.
“Well, Mikey…” Unimpressed she shoved herself closer to him – close enough for Mike to feel the heat of her body.
‘Easy prey?!’
One slender finger with a red painted nail ran over his chest down to his abdomen, gliding over firm muscles.
‘Easy prey, my ass!’ he chuckled. ‘That’s not even a prey anymore, but a carcass. Stinking, slimy and rotten carcass ya never get rid off once ya trod into it by accident.’
For Mike, almost a poetical, philosophical reflection. And he hated being called ‘Mikey’.
Oh yes, tonight he would have some fun with this Nicole.
“Do you already have plans for the night?” she whispered. “I have a room at Madame Yvette, and my shift is over. I can take you with me for a few hours, free of charge.”
Ah, this was why her name seemed familiar, she was one of the hooker’s district. Thanks, but no thanks, he wasn’t that desperate. His interest began to die away.
“Nicole, it would be a freakin’ feast for me.” The effort to let his words sound lovingly and enraptured failed. It simply wasn’t his style. He himself didn’t notice that, self-confident as he was, and she seemed to take it as he had wished: with eyes full of hope.
Slowly, her tongue glided over her own lips, an inviting gesture.
“But either yar blind or so sloshed that ya think ya seeing double,” he continued and this time, even she couldn’t ignore the lack of charm – she made a sour face, prepared to retort with a snappy remark. Mike had already turned around and pointed at his twin.
“I’m here with my baby brother, sorry, no time. I’m so sorry. Hey, do I have to bash somebody up to get something to drink?”
The barkeeper hurried over to them and brought a new glass. Before Mike could pick it up, she already had it in her hand and sipped the foam.
At this point, Mike was sure – this wasn’t her first drink and the flushed face wasn’t only caused by bashfulness. If he knew anything, then it was telling a blush from the face of a drunk.
“Oh dear, my poor boy. Do you still have to play the babysitter for this dunce? Gabe was it, right?” She took a long swig, closing her eyes. The shadow that fell over Mike’s still grinning face and disappeared as fast as it had come was unnoticed by her.
“This is so stupid, such a handsome man,” she purred and licked the white foam from her red lips,”always with his retarded brother in tow. Hey Gabe!” She grinned over the rim of the glass and waved at the silent twin in an exaggerated friendly manner.
“Can he even understand me?”
Mike glanced shortly at his brother. Gabe’s eyes were still focused on his drink, his face unaffected from the things happening around him. Apparently. Mike knew his brother well enough.
He laughed, pushed himself away from the counter and walked behind his twin.
“Oh well, quite some shitty situation, but what should I do? He’s family, right?” From behind, he seized Gabe’s chin and turned his face into her direction, his own head resting on his brother’s.
This afternoon, after the battle, they had taken a shower. Despite the smell of smoke, the scent of burnt wood and the stench of her sickly sweet perfume he could still smell the soap Gabe had used to wash his hair.
“A bit retarded, yeah. But he’s really pretty, isn’t he?” He grinned again, wide and revealing his teeth. A few steps away, the barkeeper almost dropped a glass. The young woman, however, did not think anything of it and smiled.
“Yeah, true, but well, twins, and with a hot brother like you… he cannot be ugly.”
“Quite true.” Mike nodded in agreement. “Wanna know a secret? Come closer!” He let go of Gabe’s chin and wrapped his arms around his twins neck. Curiously, she bent forward, her face only a few inches away from the twins’.
“My little brother, he’s still a virgin, can ya believe that?” he whispered as if he was convinced that nobody, even his brother, couldn’t hear him.
“No!”she exclaimed in astonishment and looked more closely at the younger twins’ face. Mike nodded.
“Tragic, isn’t it? Not even a blowjob or anything for him yet. Always he has to listen to the bragging of his big brother. Isn’t it a shame, with a face like his?”
“Yeah, you are right.” She giggled. “But what could be done about that?”
One of Mike’s hands ran through her hair and finally rested on her cheek. His lips were so close, they almost touched hers.
“Have ya ever had twins, Nicole? Suck him off, and I’ll more than return the favor. What are ya thinking? Nicole?”
She nodded, her gaze caught by ice-blue, coldly sparkling eyes.
“Where?”
*
One arm around her shoulders, one around Gabe’s waist, Mike and his companions left the “Sweet Home”.
Warm air was still surrounding them; the temperature outside was hardly different from inside. Only the clouds of smoke and the smell of stale alcohol and sweat were missing.
Mike inhaled deeply and coughed. The fresh air felt good, but apparently, he had smoked too much for a first day after their new freedom.
‘So what?’ Inwardly, he shrugged. ‘It’ll all be fine.’
He dragged his brother and their acquaintance of the night to the opposite side of the street. Dawn would arrive soon. Now, the street was still asleep, but once the sun was rising, people would either leave their home or return. Mike wasn’t in the mood for this kind of interruption.
Finally, they arrived in a narrow, dark alley. The buildings reaching upwards to their left and right had begun to slowly tilt inwards – in only a few years the roofs would touch. So the view to the sky was almost completely blocked, and from the sidewalk only a faintly glowing streetlamp shed some light.
Just bright enough to see what they were doing; just dark enough to not being seen.
Mike was still gazing at the bit of visible sky, trying to see at least one of the stars. Nicole had already freed herself from his grip and knelt down on the dark, dirty asphalt.
“Mike…”
Gabe’s voice was as unmoved as his face. Mike gave up on the sky and turned to his brother, nodding at him.
‘I know. Don’t worry yourself sick.’
The young woman in her red dress and her red high-heels, kneeling in gravel and pieces of garbage, was oblivious of the silent dialog. Her fingers were jittery from drinking and she didn’t want to spoil one of her long, pretty nails while she fumbled with the belt holding the pants of the younger twin.
She had heard Gabe saying the one single word though.
“He can talk?” Her hands halted. “I always thought he couldn’t do that.”
Mike laughed and walked behind her.
“Of course he can. Nineteen to a dozen, doesn’t stop at all. Right, Gabe?” Without looking at his twin, he continued. “He just doesn’t talk to everyone.”
“Ah, I see. So it’s a good sign and he likes me?”
Her way to giggle really jarred on his nerves.
“Oooh well…”
Without a warning, he bent forward and seized her by her shoulders.
She wanted to raise her head, asking what was going on. Gabe, however was faster.
He rammed his knee into her face, the thin bridge of her nose broke.
She gave a piercing yell and yanked up her hands, as if this would help her to stop the pain and the stream of blood running out of her nose. Tears ran over her face. Everything was happening too sudden for her to react.
With a mockingly friendly smile, Mike took hold of her hair and pulled her up to have a good look at her face.
“It is a very good sign, ya know. He wants to have fun with ya,” he explained, still ostensibly amiable.
“Ya know, it’s like that – everybody who hears him talk will nicely kick the bucket, except me, of course. A question of honor, guess ya understand.” He laughed when her eyes widened. Finally, she began to understand what was happening. She had let herself in for her own death, she had ignored all the warnings she had once heard and had set them at naught.
Abruptly, he dragged her back to her feet, turning her towards his brother. She stumbled, her hands still covering her face. She tried to scream, but more than a whimper didn’t come from her mouth. The hands of the older twin clasped her upper arms like he wanted to squash them.
He pulled her arms back, forcing hands away from her face, and Gabe lunged out, this time, with his fist.
It was difficult to tell if he missed the nose or just wanted to break another bone. Her jaws forcefully hit against each other – two teeth split.
“Ya have to know,” the spiteful voice whispered into her ear from behind, “my adorable little brother hates women.”
The words noisily rushed through her head; it was impossible for her to really grasp them. Her nose, her mouth… breathing hurt. Her own blood ran along her throat. It was warm and sticky and seeped into her cleavage. What else he said she didn’t hear; the punch into her stomach and another against her temple she hardly noticed. The broken teeth, the sore nerves in her jaws – these pains were stronger.
“Gabe, ya idiot! I talk to this slut all night so she comes along… and now she’s already wasted. Idiot!” he repeated impatiently. He let go of the woman. Lifelessly, she fell to the ground. Her eyes were half open and her chest heaved up and down quickly.
Of course. They weren’t amateurs.
The wounds were nicely bloody and painful, but not lethal, just the way it should be. Once she would be conscious again… well, what then? Beating her up again?
“I don’t wanna fuck this hoe, too filthy, yuck!” Mike voiced his thoughts. Except of a shrug, his brother didn’t react.
Boring. Their fun had ended far too quickly, and it would soon be morning, too. Now that the warm but clean air slowly weakened the effect of the beer, the plan to amuse themselves at the expense of their new acquaintance suddenly seemed less interesting.
Mike remembered what they had planned to do in a few hours. What had a half-dead whore who smelled of cheap perfume and alcohol to offer compared to that?
“Fuck it, let’s end this shit.” Indifferently, Mike turned the whimpering girl onto her back. She tried to speak, but the only thing coming from her mouth was more blood. She coughed.
Mike sat down on her chest. He put his hands around her neck and let his fingers constrict around her slender throat.
She twitched beneath him; with surprising strength her arms slashed around when less and less air filled her lungs.
Mike loved these moments wen the eyes of his victims rolled up and all he could see was the white while the color of the face slowly turned darker.
Suddenly, he released her.
Gasping for air, she tried to sit up, but he pushed her back to the ground at once. He continued to choke her, his fingers digging deeply into her skin, even slower than before. The game was repeated.
Then, Gabe stood in front of him.
“What?”
“Go away.” A short answer, as Mike was used it from his twin. Gabe took him by his shoulders and wanted to pull her away from the woman, but he wouldn’t dream of loosening his grip. If he accidentally killed her too early, Gabe better braced himself!
“Stop it!” Mike snapped at him. “You already had your fun, the rest is for me, dumbass! Never heard of sharing brotherly?”
Gabe snorted in disgust and Mike grinned. Sayings like this would be typical for those idiots from the base, but fortunately, those times were over for the twins.
Mike’s grin widened when his twin took a stand right above their victim, placing his feet to the right and left of her now crimson-colored head. With a lot less effort than the woman before, Gabe opened the buckle of his belt and unbuttoned his pants.
“He, I see,” Mike smirked. “All right, little brother, I promised you a blowjob earlier, so…” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence.
Both twins shared the passion for the sound of breaking bones, tearing away flesh and for the smell and color of blood – puddles, streams, lashings of blood.
Mike, however, felt more aroused by slaughtering than his twin.
However, Gabe’s dick already filled his mouth nicely, even if it wasn’t fully erected yet. It was enough to hinder Mike from speaking.
A hand seizing him by his hair prevented him from pulling away. Like he would ever had thought of it!
He tried to focus – on his hands, he wanted the process of strangling to last. On his tongue, how it moved over soft skin, along the shaft, over the tip. He felt it grow and opened his jaws a bit wider, taking the now a lot bigger dick deeper into his mouth.
The whimpering of his victim was joined by a throatily, growling moan.
‘Yeah, ya like that, don’t ya?’ Mike looked up. His brother was gazing down at him, his cheeks slightly flushed, the eyes wide open. There was no doubt – Gabe was watching him closely.
‘Sick bastard.’
Mike wished he could have said this aloud, although he didn’t really mean it. His own pants grew tight, but if he opened it, he would have to let go of the woman. That wasn’t possible, it was against the rules.
Slowly, Gabe pressed his brother’s head closer – the full length disappeared in Mike’s mouth.
‘Ya wanna see a show? Ya gonna get it.’ Mike tried to control his breathing and held his head as upright as he could to avoid gagging. He almost succeeded.
He coughed and groaned when his brother pulled back a bit. Only to push in forcefully again.
It was great. The fight for his own control.
He hardly couldn’t move his tongue, but he tried just the same; he fought against the firm grip of his brother – gaining a bit more leeway. Quickly, he let his tongue run over the smooth skin of the tip, enjoying the first salty taste. He looked again at Gabe, saw how his twin bit on his lip as he was determined not to moan. Mike almost pitied his brother. He would have a hard time to control himself if he were in Gabe’s place, too, here, free, smelling the scent of fresh blood.
Mike already found it difficult to remain calm anyway. However, he simply continued. He was only apparently placid, sucking with his lips, playing with his tongue. Carefully, his teeth glided along the shaft while the tip of his tongue ran over the corona. Gabe thrust again, faster. He ignored it when Mike squirmed and tried to keep control over his gag reflex. Small beads of sweat appeared on the older twin’s forehead and ran down his temples. They burnt in his eyes, so he closed them.
There was nothing worse for Mike than being helpless and at the mercy of somebody else. His brother was the only exception. Mike simply couldn’t remove his hands from the woman’s neck, it was impossible. This thing in his mouth and throat, now of its full size… why again were they in this damned alley, just before dawn?
Why weren’t they at some place where he could simply seize his twin and rip the clothes from Gabe’s body?
Where he could look at the scares and touch them while he spread his twin’s legs apart.
Where he could enjoy every single, almost painfully tight inch while he would slowly push in deeper, before he finally thrust in forcefully.
Taking revenge. Or returning the favor. Both. It actually didn’t matter, even if he were the one opening his legs. As long as there would be – more. As long as he could get rid of his pants and the maddening pressure in his groin.
He wasn’t the only one. Gabe breathed faster and the pressure against Mike’s jaws became stronger. Both twins were so painfully hard, but only Gabe’s dick finally swelled a little bit more, and only Gabe finally gave a deep, suppressed groan. The fingers that were still buried into Mike’s hair trembled.
‘Man, hurry, this isn’t a solo act!’ Impatiently, he wanted to break free and get hold of his twin and take what belonged to him. Who gave a shit about the time and place.
He couldn’t, the grip was still there, with all of its force and kept Mike under control.
The older twin looked up again.
The already bright, clear eyes were glazing over, but suddenly, Gabe grinned.
“Swallow it.”
Mike took a deep breath and a shudder ran down his spine, through the ends of his nerves, right into his groin. He didn’t really dig this stuff. Swallowing wasn’t something bad, it wasn’t a drama, but there were other things in his life he enjoyed more. Until now, there hadn’t been a reason to not just spit it out. Or to kiss his brother and give him his share. But well.
Closely watched by his twin, he began to swallow as well as he could. The viscous, salty liquid ran down his throat and didn’t seem lessen. He knew this was just his imagination, it had never been that much, so it wouldn’t be today as well. The stuff was disgusting, but this turned him on even more.
Touching… if Gabe would at least touch him! Being touched by his brother’s hand would be all he needed right now, he wouldn’t last for anything else anyway.
Finally, Gabe was satisfied with his twin and let him go. Mike leaned back and inhaled deeply. Still looking at Gabe, he slowly licked over his lips, catching a last drop.
“Sick jerk.” Mike grinned and stretched his arms, clenching his hands and releasing them again. The woman had died a little while ago – his fingers had cramped while still around her throat.
The blood already congealed under the markings of her skin. Not his problem. Careful not to stumble over his own stiff legs – and not to move a certain other stiff body part against the fabric of his pants more than necessary – he rose. Stepping over the corpse, he grabbed his brother.
“All right, little brother. I hope ya don’t think I’ll let ya get away with ya little prank.”
Both grinned. Gabe’s hand moved over Mike’s cheek, the hurting jaws and over the beard on his chin.
Impatiently, Mike seized him by the wrist and shoved the slender fingers deeper.
Bright light blinded them and both raised their arms to protect their eyes.
Mike blinked hectically, his brother quickly put back on his pants.
Through his narrowed eyes, Mike could catch sight of four bulky silhouettes and two sources of light – big, round headlamps.
They didn’t see the guns pointed at them, and it wasn’t necessary. The clicking, almost rattling noise from unlocking them was something they were familiar with.
To fight or not… but this was their freedom!
A few seconds and it was already too late, they had hesitated for too long. Two of the giants suddenly stood behind them and when the twins woke up from their paralyzes, there was nothing more they could do. Handcuffs and shackles clasped around their wrists and ankles; chains were put around their necks and tightened. Still dazzled by the light, they stumbled forward as they were pushed from behind.
The old chains. Mike hated them. They had just got rid of them, thanks to more luck than judgment.
Their big chance – wasted. Because of a dumb, easy whore. He felt like crying, but instead, he began to rant and to curse.
The world regained its shapes and colors slowly when they stood next to a long, black limousine. A door was opened.
“Are you finally ready, gentlemen? Well, then hurry. You! Make our runaways sit down with me, and fasten them down thoroughly!”
This voice… this hoarse, raspy voice.
“Fuck, the old hag…” Mike growled while one of her bodyguards tied his chains tightly to the seat. Another one did the same with Gabe, and two more of them still pointed their weapons at the twins’ head, the finger at the trigger.
They wouldn’t survive it when they tried something stupid, and they wouldn’t even take one of them with them to hell. Even Mike was aware of that.
“Yes, the ‘old hag’, although I prefer ‘Administrator’. Or simply ‘Helen’.” The boss of the company the twins were ‘working’ for sat in front of them in person.
Her features were hard and unyielding as usual and only showed the slightest movement when she took a pull on her cigar. Satisfied with the aroma, she nodded at her men.
“It’s good. Give the word that I want to depart, back to the headquarters. Meanwhile, you take care of the trash.”
Without a word, the men nodded and closed the doors.
Through the darkened glass of the window Mike could see how the four men returned to the alley. Their broad backs hindered his view.
Abruptly, the car began to move.
“I really have to tell him again… he has to release the clutch carefully. Atrocious. Skilled drivers are difficult to find.” She sighed, picked up a newspaper and began to read.
Gabe was already retreating into his own world, as he always did when he wasn’t alone with his brother. Only a shadow was left from the young man who had been excited and aroused a little while ago.
Mike, though, was everything, but not calm.
“Well, well, old horny hag, did ya enjoy watching the show? Fucking hot, eh? Is that why ya have all this bondage shit with ya? Are ya up for an awesome fuck? How long has it been? 50 years? 70?”
The newspaper made a rustling sound when she turned a page. The Administrator kept reading without even lifting an eye.
“Don’t flatter yourself too much, young man. For your information, I’m an old hag with knowledge of the human nature who never underestimates her fellow human beings. Even if they rather resemble primitive animals.”
Her calm attitude only irritated Mike more. This was worse than being ignored. Underestimated or not, either way, this woman didn’t take him serious at all when she better should.
“Yeah, right, that’s why ya cruising the streets in the middle of the night. Surely searching a whorehouse, yeah? A little side job, as undead-whore?”
These words didn’t provoke her as well as Mike had hoped – or had wished. As if she had all time in thee worlds, she folded the newspaper and put it aside.
“My, my, haven’t you learned any manners at all, in all this time? I’ll have to talk with Sydney about that.” Completely at ease, with the authority only those humans possessed who had known and maintained the feeling of power for a long time, she removed a little fluff from her purple suit.
Next, she opened her briefcase. With a bored sighed, she checked a thin file.
“Michael, with all due respect for your skills as career adviser – it’s true that a job brought me out tonight in this area of the city. However, it is a bit different than you assumed so charmingly.” She browsed through the first two pages and began to read out loud.
“Nicole Masters, that was her name. No, please let me finish, this saves all of us precious time. After I was given notice about your little… let’s call it ‘field trip’, an old friend of mine called.”
Mike snorted and grumbled something about mummies and creatures that had unfortunately not drowned during the Flood. She ignored him and continued.
“To be honest, thanks to her I learned about the current location of my two runaways. Don’t blame men,” she interrupted her explanation and gave Mike an amused look. “I’m not responsible when you two decide to act predictably. Where was I… ah yes! This young lady, Miss Masters, had irritated my old friend. And when you two were around anyway… You know, I don’t like to owe people favors, especially not when I call them my friends. You don’t need to know about the details and I’m only interested in the result. The target is dead, and you are back on your way to where you belong, gentlemen.”
She closed the fail and finished her report. After putting the documents back into her briefcase she focused again on the newspaper. For a moment, Mike stared at her, aghast.
A state that never lasted long with him and as usual he did what he preferred to do in a situation like this.
“Fucking shit! What was this crap about with this stupid cunt? And why did your witch knew where we were? FUCK YOU ALL! Fucking shit, that’s what it is…” He paused at a sudden thought. A question burnt on his lips and the answer couldn’t mean anything good. Anyway, it was humiliating to pay her talk any attention at all.
“Why… are you telling us all this?” His curiosity won. Angry with himself he held his breath and glanced at his twin.
The whole time, Gabe had been just sitting there – silent and motionless. Mike’s shoulders dropped. Fighting was all they had. Except each other. Gabe was the way he was, and Mike didn’t want him to be anything or anyone else. Sometimes, though, it would have been a lot easier if he hadn’t been on his own in moments like this.
“Yes, why do I tell you all this.” Her mocking words brought him back to reality and he faced her again. Ice-blue eyes stared at dark ones.
“A good question, isn’t it?”
Confused, he looked at her. Of course he wouldn’t catch her revealing more to them than they needed to know. This woman knew what she was doing, if he liked it or not, and he was aware of it.
Her gaze wandered to the side. His eyes followed and again, he looked at his twin.
“Never free…”
“Gabe..” Both shocked about the fact that Gabe was talking at all and about the words themselves, Mike shook his head. He assumed more than he wanted to know, something that Gabe obviously was already fully aware of.
“And that’s that.”
Even Mike, who wasn’t interested at all in the moods and feeling of others couldn’t miss how amused the Administrator was.
“Now stop looking so ridiculously baffled already, Michael. Of course you’ll never be free. I have everything under my control. Yes, also you and your silent mirror image. Ah, what was it again…” she rolled up her eyes and tipped with her skinny, boney index finger against her temple, pretending to think very hard.
“Correct me in case I remember your words from earlier wrongly: ‘Everybody who hears him talk will nicely kick the bucket, except me, of course. A question of honor, guess ya understand.’”
She laughed and Mike’s blood ran cold. Since when had this witch been there and watched them? In the alley, earlier? Before they had entered the “Sweet Home”?
Slowly, he began to understand – more so, to feel – what ‘never free’ really meant. How did he wish he could simply leap at this old hag and wring her scrawny neck!
If she guessed his thought – and he was certain she did – she ignored it and simply talked on.
“Very amusing, indeed. Nice, really nice, this twins-thing. I’m fine with that. Just let me tell you one thing – should I really die through your hands one day, please make sure to improve the technique of your tongue until then, Mr. Connor. At my age, I don’t have all day for you to finish, I assume you understand.”
End](http://25.media.tumblr.com/ebf8667627b138c1995caae43c62f555/tumblr_mhsnv0rmqq1rvxzbro1_500.jpg)
Story written by LigeiaMaloy /// CoverArt and Characters by BlastedKing
___________________
Plans within plans
The night was different from the day in only one aspect – darkness. No matter how dark the sky was, the heat never left the streets. The air stood still; it smelled of tar, of exhaust gases, of humans and of their sweat. Only those whose home was on the ground-floor reluctantly kept the windows shut. No resident of this part of the city would voluntarily offer their home and belongings to a stranger’s face – or rather to a barrel of a loaded, unlocked gun.
Source: teamkingstorytime
Photo with 29 notes
![(Sniper/Demo NSFW)
Story written by LigeiaMaloy /// Characters by BlastedKing
[[MORE]]
The Bliss of Simplicity
(Sydney/O’Conner)
“Stop this bullshit, Squid!”“Ah non, mon petit, do not be shy. You will only be bored. Come, I will show you a better game than this.”None of the other men sitting at the table paid any attention when Jean wrapped one tentacle around Tyler’s waist and another gently around the young man’s annoyed face. They also ignored Tyler’s harsh protests while he tried to push Jean and the perky tentacles away. The Scout’s efforts were in vain, of course, and a few minutes later, the Tentaspy got his will. Reluctantly, but without real resistance, Tyler allowed Jean to drag him away from the table and out of the common room.Jo observed the pair out of the corner of her eyes and grinned at her brother.“This will never get old. Do you think we’ll live long enough to witness Ty not putting up this prissy act?”“I hope not, my dear, I’d miss this show. Aren’t they too adorable, the two darlings?” Syd chuckled. “O’Conner, please give me another one.”The dark man put the glass he was cleaning away and raised his eyebrows skeptically, first looking at the empty glass, then at the Sniper.“Ye sure ye ain’t overdin’ it?”Sydney put his elbows on the counter and let his chin rest on his hands.“Oh come on, honey. You cannot deny a hard working man the pleasure of a small drink after a long day. Or is there something… else you want to offer me instead?” Sydney added with a wide smile.“Sonny, you are unbelievable,” his sister scolded him. “Can’t you even survive one evening without making mooneyes at someone?”Sydney snorted in feigned protest and gripped his shirt right above his heart.“My dear Jo, how can you say something like this! I’d never…”“Yeah, yeah, whatever, lad. Here ye go, just drink slowly, ye hear me?” O’Conner filled part of a clean tumbler with whiskey, another one with water and put both in front of the Sniper. The former Demoman and Jo chuckled at Sydney’s enactment as much as the Sniper himself.“Listen to him. I doubt anyone of us is in the mood to carry you all the way downstairs to Martin in the middle of the night just because you have a blackout,” Jo couldn’t resist lecturing him when he slowly nipped on his glass, carefully tasting the amber liquid.O’Conner had returned to his previous task and continued cleaning the remains of the earlier meeting. It was close to midnight and fortunately for the cook, tomorrow awaited them another busy day, so they hadn’t decided to throw a party. Only a few drinks and a game of cards would do; this meant less work for him and he could find some time for a drink or two for himself in between.“My dear, it’s lovely that you are worried about me, but you shouldn’t. This is the second glass tonight. Besides, I’m only drinking to enjoy the taste.”He turned around and leaned with his back against the counter. With a gentle smile, he watched the men sitting around the table. He loved it when the members of his team had a good time together, especially when he could finally convince Lukas to take part in it actively . The young Spy’s face was red and his eyes looked nervously from Riley to Nicolai and finally, at Matthew, who shoved the pile of coins and cigarettes in front of him in the middle of the table.
Sydney felt a hint of regret. He had tried to convince Martin to stay with them after the meeting as well, but the Medic had insisted upon leaving – too much work was waiting for him. So the German had left once the official part of the evening was over, taking William, the zombie with him. And as usual, Michael and Gabriel were missing, too. Sydney sighed and wondered if all his efforts would succeed one day, and he could welcome the twins as normal members of the team. He refused to acknowledge the doubt he felt.“Well, take your time with that taste of yours.” Jo thanked O’Conner for the two beer bottles he handed her and stood up from her bar stool.“Meanwhile, I’ll join those kids and show them how this game is really played.”“Good idea, dear.” Sydney laughed and gave her a friendly slap on her shoulder. “Matthew has just lost the showdown. We don’t want our charming Soldier to bore himself to death until this round is finished. I’m proud of my unselfish sister.”“Bite me, Syd!” she hissed and raised her free hand threateningly when he only chuckled.“Ouch, what was that for?” he protested when, instead of hitting him, she stepped on his foot.“You deserved it.” Her disapproving frown changed into a friendly, warm smile as she walked towards the table and took a seat between Riley and Matthew.Sydney had already forgotten about his stomped on toe and smiled as he observed how Matthew engaged Jo at once into a light-hearted conversation while Nicolai handed out the cards for himself and the rest of the remaining players.“It’s amazing, first young Ty, and now Matthew lost against Lukas in a showdown. Me didn’t think he’d be that good,” an amused voice growled behind Sydney, and he turned around, facing O’Conner.“Yeah, amazing is a good word. His poker-face is perfect.” Appreciatively, the Sniper nodded. The other man laughed.“Aye, because the lad’s nervous and red like a beet, no matter if he holds a good hand or a bad hand!”“Be fair, my dear friend,” Sydney smiled softly. “It’s not only his pretty face – he has always been a good tactician.”“Yeah, me knows, me knows, no worry. Me won’t say anything mean about ye devoted assistant. What ye looking at me like this?” O’Conner’s grin widened, showing two rows of perfect, white teeth that Sydney couldn’t help admiring. The Scotsman pointed at his healthy eye.“This sharp eye ain’t missing anything.”Both men grinned. O’Conner poured out a drink for himself from the same bottle he had used to fill Sydney’s glass. Together, they watched their teammates for a while and discussed the game, chuckling when Nicolai’s bluff failed and the pile in front of Lukas grew even more. The second cook glared warningly at them, and they lowered their voices at once. His usual gentle temper didn’t mean he had forgotten all of his former profession as a Heavy.“Syd, why don’t ye join them?” O’Conner suggested after Jo had asked for two more beer and returned to Matthew immediately.Sydney shivered when the low, growling voice spoke right beside him. He hadn’t counted how much O’Conner had drank already. Although the Scotsman was still far from being drunk, he already spoke with the light slur the Sniper thought so charming.“Nah, not tonight.” He turned to the former Demoman and smiled. “Can’t let you stand here all alone by your lonesome self, honey, can I?” Sydney’s voice, too, was still a whisper. He picked up his glass and took a slow sip from the amber liquid while he looked straightly into O’Conner’s good, brown eye.O’Conner laughed out loudly, and Sydney, again, admired the contrast between the white teeth and the dark skin and beard.“Don’t ye worry about me, laddie, me’s gonna be alright. And ye know, if me wanted, I could join ye guys.”The Sniper rolled his eyes and put his glass down.“Honey, I’m worried about your sharp eye.” He leaned over the counter and, this time, he spoke into the former Demoman’s ear. “It has missed that I’m not interested in a game of cards tonight.”Once the Sniper moved away from him again, O’Conner seized him by the chin and held it with a firm grip. Intensely, he looked into Sydney’s dark blue eyes. The Sniper’s expression remained motionless.Then, a satisfied grin appeared on the Scotsman’s face.“Aye, that’s what I wanted to hear, boss.” He let go of him and reached for the bottle. “Have another drink, ye’ll need it.” With a wink, he refilled their glasses one more time.
*
“With your laid-back smile, nobody would guess that you are such a sadist.”O’Conner chuckled. He had already climbed out of the bed, leaving Sydney lying on his back. The Sniper groaned in frustration, wanting more of the man’s mouth on his dick and the strong fingers inside of him. Or better, O’Conner’s hard cock finally pushed inside - but as it was, he wouldn’t get anything of this soon. The Scotsman stood next to Sydney’s bed and pointed at his own erection.“With ya flirtatious attitude, nobody would guess yer such a lazy bloke. Now move yer pretty ass and show me that yer mouth can do more than smile.”“Just wait, honey, you’ll be begging to fuck me before you can say ‘sadistic tease’.” Sydney couldn’t hide a smile. If it had been his choice, he would have preferred this dick in his ass instead of his mouth this very moment. O’Conner really had a talent to leave him needy and wanting almost to the point of torture. He wouldn’t enjoy this little game half as much if it were different. Besides, it was always a pleasure to suck him.Quickly, he went on his knees and once he had the hard length directly in front of his face, he let his tongue glide over the tip. He was tempted to take it in as far as he could right away, but if O’Conner wanted to be a tease, fine. Sydney knew how to play that game as well.Slowly, but with firm pressure, his tongue moved along the shaft and returned to the more sensitive parts. He noticed, with satisfaction, the long, appreciative sigh coming from O’Conner.“Told you so,” Sydney hummed more to himself while his lips finally enclosed around the glans.“Don’t tell, show!”A hand took hold of Sydney’s hair and held his head in place. With soft force, O’Conner shoved his dick between Sydney’s lips. The Sniper opened his mouth wider only too willingly. He reached for the former Demoman’s hips and let one hand wander over the dark skin. The other had ran through the wiry, black hair and felt for the soft, but already tensed skin of the testicles. Gently, with the same rhythm his tongue moved over and along the man’s cock, the fingers began to massage them. Occasionally, he squeezed a bit harder, never to the point of causing pain - just enough to be rewarded with a pleased hiss.“Yer really something,” O’Conner growled contentedly.
Sydney looked up. The Scotsman grinned and observed him through his half-closed eye. A thumb placidly stroked through the Sniper’s hair, but the grip hadn’t loosened yet. So Sydney’s tongue and jaws continued to work on their cook’s dick while O’Conner kept thrusting into his mouth at a still deliciously unnerving, slow speed.“Alright, lad, I guess ye’ve earned yer reward.” O’Conner released the Sniper’s head.“Reward? Darling, I guess you simply can’t wait any longer,” Sydney replied with a smug grin and licked over his lips. He chuckled when the Scotsman his bent down and kissed him. The taste of whiskey reminded the Sniper why his head felt so light tonight. The cook had drank at least three times as much as Sydney, but obviously, the amount of alcohol had no effect on O’Conner. Right now, Sydney admired this strength, something he wouldn’t do if he were feeling less giddy.He enjoyed the relaxed countenance and the firm hand of the smaller, but stronger man whose grin widened at Sydney’s words.“Me likes a good challenge. Nah, just turn around,” O’Conner commanded when Sydney wanted to simply lie back and pull the Scotsman down with him. Sydney let go of his hand and did as he was told, again chuckling as a wide hand playfully slapped his ass.“Aye, we’ll see who can’t wait anymore.” With a laugh, O’Conner knelt between the opened legs. His hands stroked over Sydney’s backside and slowly continued with the long limbs.“Ye really got nice legs, ye know,” O’Conner growled into the Sniper’s ear, leaning over him. Sydney shivered at the coarse voice. He felt the heat from the other man’s body on his back; O’Conner’s massive hard-on was pressed firmly against his ass.
“Those aren’t the only nice things I have to offer, honey.” Sydney grew impatient, but of course, the Scotsman didn’t take any offense.“I’ll take this as a ‘fuck me already, dear O’Conner’,” the former Demoman laughed. Sydney’s chuckle turned into a groan when fingers covered with cold lube spread him and were pushed into his entrance.They left him again and for a moment nothing happened. Sydney felt that O’Conner was watching him and was probably delighted to see his boss shudder under his gaze. Before Sydney could say anything, the other man had mercy on him. Finally, the wide tip was pressed against his opening.Exhaling slowly, the Sniper sighed. His head rested on his folded hands while O’Conner slowly pushed in deeper, pausing in between, allowing the Sniper’s body to relax around him. Loving the feeling of being stretched, Sydney shoved his body back against the Scot’s pelvis.“Hey, yer job is ter hold still and enjoy the show.” O’Conner grabbed Sydney by his hips and stopped him from moving. Lowly, the Sniper cursed the man’s seemingly endless patience and endurance. O’Conner laughed again and didn’t think of changing anything about his speed at all.He pushed in his full length and paused once more. Sydney began to squirm, fighting against the grip that still hindered him from gaining any control.“Come on, don’t treat your boss like this!” he panted, only half jokingly. Sydney enjoyed the teasing, but with his mind still blurred with whiskey, it became harder to remain patient.“Ah, like me ever would not listen to me boss. Gimme ye hands!”Sydney reached behind himself, his face resting on the pillow. O’Conner let go of his hip, leaned forward and intertwined his fingers with Sydney’s. He pulled their hands behind the Sniper’s back and pressed them down, right above Sydney’s buttocks.Sydney shifted his body, trying to move his hips to finally feel the Scotsman move inside of him. In this position, however, bent over and without his arms and hands supporting him, he was almost as helpless as before.“Tonight, laddie, the boss isn’t on duty. So ye better not try ter order me around before tomorrow.”Sydney made an amused snort.The next second, he cried out.All of a sudden, O’Conner began to thrust.From one moment to the other, the slowness was forgotten and the Scotsman pulled out and pushed in again almost forcefully. Sydney groaned and struggled once more against O’Conner’s grip – he wanted at least one hand free and stroke himself. The built-up tension had become unbearable, and release was so close.As expected, O’Conner didn’t set him free.This was a part of their game and as Sydney hadn’t heard him pant yet, he could guess that the game would still last for a while. At this point, the Sniper wasn’t sure if O’Conner’s endurance was a blessing or a curse. Either way, it was wonderful; the Scotsman knew how to drive him crazy and his dick had just the right size to fill and stretch him without hurting him. Or maybe he had to thank O’Conner’s skilled hands and patience.Sydney didn’t care how and why; he felt coming closer with each deep, hard thrust. Any moment, he would finally come - just from the intense impulses his nerves were sending through his groin and up his spine whenever O’Conner pushed in deep enough.Of course that would have been too easy.The Sniper’s arms fell limply onto the mattress when O’Conner let go of them.To Sydney’s dismay, the Scot removed himself completely from his body.“Seriously, darling,” Sydney groaned, panting heavily. Sweat ran down his face and covered his back and he couldn’t stop shivering.“If you weren’t already working in the kitchen, I’d send you there to peel potatoes!”The empty threat earned him another slap on his ass.“If ye need it so bad, why don’t ye just come and get what ye want?” O’Conner made himself comfortable right beside Sydney, sprawling out on the bed. He crossed his arms behind his head and grinned widely at the Sniper.Sydney’s eyes wandered from the wonderful white teeth to the equally wonderful, still fully erected organ. This was an invitation he accepted with delight.Still shaking, he swung one leg over O’Conner’s lap, straddling him. With his hand holding the Scot’s length in place, Sydney eased his hips downward. This time, the welcome intrusion went inside easily.Finally being the one to control their movements, Sydney suddenly wasn’t so eager for a higher speed anymore. Slowly, he began to ride the other man, loving to feel the hard cock move so smoothly inside of him.His hands ran over O’Conner’s wide chest. The Scotsman might not have been groaning and panting like Sydney did, but the thin layer of sweat that covered the dark skin was evidence enough of the man’s excitement. The Sniper’s gaze focused on O’Conner’s face.Sydney liked the strong features and the relaxed smile. O’Conner had closed his eye; he was obviously enjoying having Sydney ride him. With the black beard and the eye-patch, the man always emitted a wild, almost dangerous aura – Sydney hadn’t been surprised when he had been lucky to discover O’Conner’s dominant nature a while ago.A low growl came from the Scot’s throat. Sydney trailed hand down the man’s body, over the abdomen, until he had reached and taken hold of his own cock.Stroking himself, it was easier – delightful actually – to endure the slow speed of the thrusts.
It was not for long.As Sydney felt himself coming closer again, his movements became faster. He leaned backward a bit, making it easier for the cock inside of him to brush over the sensitive, inner spot with almost every push.“Gimme yer hands.”“Not again…”Sydney hadn’t been aware that he had closed his eyes, so he hadn’t noticed he was being watched. O’Conner’s fingers gently pulled Sydney’s hand away from himself. Being held by both of his wrists, Sydney’s upper body was dragged towards the former Demoman’s chest.“Ye have ter learn ter be patient, young lad,” O’Conner chuckled. He pulled him a bit closer and kissed him. Eagerly, Sydney answered the kiss, hungrily searching for the other man’s tongue.“Can’t move fast like this,” he breathed when O’Conner broke the kiss.“Aye… guess in that case, ye have to take it slow.”“Damn you, O’Conner, you are a cruel, sadistic bastard! God, I love that!” The Sniper’s growl changed into a moan when the Scotsman again took control and thrust in deeply.“Heh, me knows, boss, me knows.”Sydney’s head rested on O’Conner’s shoulder. He could smell the scent of fresh sweat and aftershave, a mix that clouded his mind along with the remains of the intoxication. To his relief, O’Conner hadn’t been serious about taking it slow. He had seized the Sniper’s hips again and held them firmly while he thrust hard and fast. The hoarse groan that finally came from the Scot turned Sydney on as much as being fucked hard. And slow. Both. As long as he was fucked by this man and could hear him moan and growl right into his ear.“Time for a break, right?” O’Conner’s voice sounded breathless now, but the Sniper only noticed the words in his dismay.“You… honey, you want to kill me, don’t you?” Sydney panted heavily when O’Conner really stopped moving. The Sniper’s whole body was covered in sweat and he shivered.
He tried to take what he needed. Desperately, he hoped to gain the few final sensations from the dick inside and from the friction when his own cock glided over the Scot’s stomach.Again, he was at O’Conner’s mercy.“Yer really fuckin’ hot when ye squirm and moan like this,” the Scot chuckled. At this point, he decided that Sydney had suffered enough.
He removed his hands from the shaking hips, and at once, the Sniper arched backwards. Sitting on O’Conner’s lap with a straight back, his hands clinging to the man’s muscular legs for support, Sydney rode him hard.When O’Conner’s fingers wrapped around his shaft, Sydney found it difficult to maintain his fast, steady rhythm.He cried out when finally, just when he thought the pressure would only grow stronger and never end, a last stroke and another firm thrust brought him release. His head tilted back. He gasped for air, suddenly feeling dizzy. His muscles were exhausted, but before he would simply collapse, O’Conner pulled him down and kissed him again.Sydney felt his own semen sticking between their bodies when O’Conner put a hand on his back and pulled him a bit closer. His cheek resting against the Scot’s, Sydney listened to the heavy panting while O’Conner continued to fuck him a little bit longer. His own nerves tingled – soon, the stimulation would be too much. Right now, feeling the hard cock was almost more intense than before, now that his own need was satisfied and didn’t distract him.The growl when O’Conner finally came sent a shiver down his spine – if Sydney hadn’t already, he would have been driven over the edge now.When a sudden pain flared his shoulder, the Sniper hissed in surprise.
*
“O’Conner, darling, I can’t decide,” Sydney mused reproachfully while he examined his shoulder in the mirror he had picked up from his nightstand, “do I prefer this lovely souvenir or would I’ve rather heard more of your lovely voice? Maybe we really should go for another round.”O’Conner laughed out loudly and tapped the ash of his cigarette into the ashtray Sydney quickly handed him.“Thank ye. Aye, ye know, lad, me doubts ye’d survive the amazing O’Conner twice in one night.” He chuckled at the Sniper’s indignant expression.“Nah, just kiddin’ ye,” the Scot hastened to add before Sydney would defend his dignity with a theatrical retort. “It’s late, lad, ye have ter work tomorrow. And me, too. My day begins in three hours, mind ye! A chef cannot sleep in like ye lazy bloke!”“Respect your boss, darling,” Sydney scolded him and they both laughed. O’Conner extinguished his cigarette and swung his legs out of the bed.“Heh, did ye know that the German word for ‘boss’ is ‘chef’?” he asked while he picked his clothes up from the floor.“No, did Martin tell you this?” Tiredly, he stretched. He wouldn’t have admitted it, but O’Conner was right – Sydney would need some time to recover from tonight. However, with no regret, every second was worth it that he now felt like his muscles had been replaced with old rubber-bands.“Yeah. Me thinks, we can legitimately say, it’s fine that me’s the boss in certain situations.” He flashed the wide grin that had more or less started the whole thing tonight at Sydney.“Darling, like I’d ever mind. In certain situations.” Ignoring his protesting body, he climbed out of the bed and joined O’Conner’s side, wrapping one arm around the man’s waist.“You know I enjoy it every time, honey.” Sydney’s hand wandered down and stroke over the O’Conner’s firm backside.“Of course me knows.” He gave Sydney’s ass one last slap and then proceeded to put back on his pants. “Gonna boss ye around more another time. Now, me needs a shower.”“What a lovely idea, my dear. If you don’t mind, I’ll join you.” The idea of a hot shower really did sound nice to Sydney.Discussing the details of next week’s menu, they left Sydney’s room and headed for the bathrooms.- End -](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_med6alhQSH1rvxzbro1_r2_500.png)
(Sniper/Demo NSFW)
Story written by LigeiaMaloy /// Characters by BlastedKing
Source: teamkingstorytime
Photo with 62 notes
![Story by LigeiaMaloy // Picture by BlastedKing // Error by ds404 // Lukas/ShySpy, Sydney/SassySniper by BlastedKing
Based on this
____________________________
Unscheduled
;adaption new input, reaction configurationsystem temperature regulation constant=contact_1;repeatsystem temperature regulation constant=contact_2;adjustment alert function ;unknown contact solved 1;contact_1 definedcontact_1=Sniper_Sydney;contact_2 definedcontact_2=Spy_Lukas;expected error rate 0;test run primary functions complete 1;damage reports 0;memory data storage update complete 1;reported data loss 0;reported file corruption 0Rewrite process complete 1Begin switchovercontrol unit=artificial_ego_“Error”switchover complete 1The last, finalizing processes of the automatic reboot lasted only nanoseconds; only a very keen eye would have been able to perceive the bright flashes of light, and only if said eye would have had a chance to take a glimpse into the head of the delicate machine. This was the finalization of a complete scanning sequence. It began right after the shutdown, ending with Error opening his eyes. The robot himself wasn’t aware of the uncountable, rapid exchanges and aligning of information in his system until the last, confirming lines handed his body back to him. [[MORE]]For Error, it was like a wake-up call after a dreamless sleep. It was a moment not very different from humans awakening at the sound of the alarm clock. Only the side effects, like tired eyes and indignation, were missing – the bright red eyes were back to their normal performance and his brain returned to the usual routine the second his consciousness had been restarted. The machine worked perfectly, as expected from a complex creation. However, a variable uncontrollable by any logarithm awoke, too – Error’s self-awareness, and with it - feelings. Unlike his friends of flesh and blood he liked to associate with, the light coming from the lamp hanging from the ceiling didn’t hurt his eyes. But the confusion was genuinely human. The last memory his databank had applied was the close contact to Sydney, executed by the Sniper himself when he placed his large hands over Error’s temporary, now gone female curves. The same sensation of shock and bashfulness returned, as well as the memory of the actually pleasant touch. Unlike last time, his system remained stable, and the heat in his face didn’t reach a dangerous level. At least he had adapted to the idea to feel those warm hands on his body. Hopefully, his internal system had also taken precautions in case such an occurrence would happen again, unlikely as it was, since he had returned to his male form. Speaking of his internal system, he still didn’t know where he was right now and the ceiling didn’t provide him with enough information. The only reliable fact was that approximately 34 minutes had passed from his shut down until now. And with the restart, he had returned to his usual, male form. Thirty-five minutes since the shut down.“Oh… you… are awake?” At the sound of a timid, hesitant voice, Error sat up. Quickly, he registered his surroundings from the corner of his eye. A room functioning as an office, judging from the type of furniture. File cabinets, a desk, chairs, and the couch he had been resting on. Decorative items existed but his vision didn’t focus on details at the moment. But his eyes didn’t miss the fact that the desk was cluttered and drawers were not completely closed. Several every day items like cups and a half empty coffee pot added to the general impression of messiness. A nameplate stood at the edge of the desk. “Sydney”. So he was at the base of Team King. The Sniper must have brought him here after the shutdown to recover. Error smiled gratefully, and immediately noticed the change in the face of the other man present. Within a second, Error had sized him up. This was Lukas. He had seen him before. He was one of the Spies on the team. By now, Error had learned a lot about most team-members of Team King, but his data of this Spy was more incomplete than complete. Mostly hidden under too large clothes, the android wasn’t even sure about the physical shape of the man. His movements were flowing, which was not unusual for Spies. However, the few times the android had seen him, acted vague and uncertain - as if he was trying on purpose to remain inconspicuous. In this light, he assumed the other Spy’s eyes were blue. Lukas avoided looking at him directly so Error couldn’t tell the exact shade. The lower part of the Spy’s face was secluded from his sight by the over long scarf that was carefully wrapped around Lukas’ neck, covering up more of the young man’s features than the most important part of every Spy’s uniform - the mask.Error tried to add the age of the man to his data, but with only a part of the eyes visible, this was impossible to tell for sure. He couldn’t see the Spy’s hands. Despite the warm weather and the fact they were inside, the building – the place were he was well known and usually didn’t have to hide his identity - Lukas was still wearing black gloves. With what Error had – the bit of skin exposed, the posture and the tone of the voice – he estimated the man’s age to be between 24 and 27. Surprisingly young for this profession. It was as surprising as the fact that his whole mannerism was unlike most of the Spies he had met - usually known for their confident, if not cocky attitude. Yet, that said nothing. Error, himself, was hardly like most Spies. This wasn’t relevant now. He had just awoken in a room he in which he didn’t belong. Spoken to by a young man who could easily have been overlooked in this small space. Even as he sat right in front of him, he could easily be mistaken for another inanimate object in this cluttered room . Lukas’ whole demeanor was that of a man who did not want to be noticed. With his head bent down and sagging shoulders, he was coming close to that. His voice was so low, Error assumed it was often missed by fellow humans, even when Lukas was the only one speaking at a time. Actually, today was the first time Error had heard him talking at all. He added “Sweden” to his data. Error could interpret the man’s posture quickly enough. It was withdrawn and nervous. Lukas’ back and legs were tensed slightly, ready to escape the situation if he had to. This confirmed with former encounters and observations of the quiet, withdrawn Spy of Team King. New was the frown Error could clearly read from Lukas’ eyes, assumingly a reaction to his earlier smile. He wondered if he had done something to displease the young man.Of course! He was bothering him! Not only had he passed out earlier when he had met Sydney, but he had to be brought here as well. Second, the Sniper obviously didn’t have time to stay. Error’s smile widened a bit when he thought of the leader of this team. He held his team together with an odd mixture of unfaltering cheerfulness and adamant stubbornness. It was odd, but very alluring. He stopped his mind from wandering. Sydney wasn’t here, Lukas was. So the other Spy had been asked to keep Error company until he awakened. Lukas probably had more important things to do than keep an eye on a machine during the repair of its malfunction. “I apologize. For bother I am sorry. I go. Thank you for help.” He rose from the sofa and politely made a low bow. “Forgive please me being rude and demand of time.”
“W…wait!”
Dreading the whole situation, the Spy winced when the unexpected visitor was about to walk across the room toward the door, forcing Lukas to interact. Error was a stranger, and robot or not, interacting with strangers wasn’t Lukas’ strong point. He had of course heard of the artificial Spy who worked in the same profession as him. A machine that looked and behaved all human.Despite Error’s friendship with Sydney, Lukas had never really had anything to do with this unique Spy. But Sydney had asked him to watch out for him. He didn’t want to disappoint Sydney. If he wasn’t able to finish this little job, he definitely would… Or, almost as terrifying, Sydney might laugh at him and decide to ask somebody else to be his close assistant. Bracing himself, he swiftly stood up and caught up with Error. He inhaled deeply, and placed one hand on the robot’s shoulder. Inwardly, he sighed with relief when Error stopped. At least he had been able to prevent him from leaving. The second of ease was short-lived and vanished completely when Error turned around and faced him. Nervously, Lukas took a step back, almost stumbling over one of the many cardboard boxes lying scattered over the floor. He muttered a short, Swedish curse, annoyed with himself that he hadn’t found the time – or rather the courage – to persuade Sydney to finally clean up the chaos their sudden return from the last, short holiday had caused. This stranger was intruding on his comfort zone, and he couldn’t make up his mind where to go to avoid the close presence. Fleeing to the side would appear very impolite, and he didn’t want to anger their guest. Stepping backwards over the box was too risky. What if he really fell? Machine or not, Error had shown enough signs of human emotions, and Lukas was convinced that the white-haired man would laugh at him if that happened.For now, he simply looked down. He let go of the other Spy’s shoulder. To keep his hand busy instead of awkwardly hanging down by his side, he rubbed his on neck. “S..stay. Please, make yourself comfortable… uh… d..do you need something, I mean, Sydney said if you woke up… I mean, rebooted, well… fan helvete!” he ended with a curse. “No, no I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” The other man’s calm, polite smile was even more unnerving than a disturbed, angry reaction would have been. Sydney had a similar way to make him nervous. Whatever happened or whatever Lukas did, the Sniper only showed an amused smile. “You want me I rather go?” Error suggested politely.Lukas squirmed, flinching behind his mask and scarf. No matter how much he wished to be alone now, this wasn’t about what he wanted. Sydney’s words had been clear when he had left earlier. “N..no! Sydney said Error is our guest. I mean, you are our guest, and mustn’t leave before he’s back and you keep a close eye on… I mean, I keep.. I have to keep a close eye on you, that’s what he said…” Good, he had finally explained the situation. Bad, was the fact he had made a fool of himself, as usual. Here he was, another person who would never take him seriously… another Spy, of all people… creatures… things.“Sydney… comes back, and I wait?” Error answered, his face blushing.Lukas nodded, glad that he didn’t show any sign of a reprimand. Still, their visitor looked too happy with his smile and the reddened cheeks. Lukas was a Spy after all, so it hadn’t escape him in the past that this man was interested in his boss. It was awkward to stand so close to somebody who plainly had similar feelings about Sydney as he had himself. It was an absurd situation. Lukas did not intend to put up a fight for the attention of the Sniper, but being face to face with a rival Sydney ever so often had favored… ‘Absurd indeed, this is a robot, a machine, what is all this smiling and blushing anyway?’he thought, not realizing he was frowning again. He knew that he was blushing as much, if not more, than the robot when Error’s gaze became more intense. Turning his head as far away as he dared without fearing he was too impolite, he tried to advert his eyes. He was sure that he was being analyzed right now. Immediately, he regretted his harsh thoughts. “I’m sorry… I mean, yes, we wait, he comes back soon, it’s just… because of the horrible robot invasion… ah! Sorry! I mean, no offense, I didn’t mean to…!” If he had a talent, he knew it would be saying the wrong things at the wrong time. He raised his hands in defense, finally looking directly at the other Spy. God, what if he had angered their guest with a careless remark about robots? He knew by hearsay that Error was a formidable killer. And what would Sydney say if he heard how he, Lukas, had insulted the Sniper’s friend? Suddenly, he felt too warm under his scarf, and panic rose within him.
Maybe he could run and find Sydney. after a quick, polite excuse… if he could only come up with that quick, polite excuse now… He hadn’t realized he had been waving his arms nervously until Error touched him. Two hands lay down gently on his shoulders in a reassuring, friendly gesture and his own movements stopped abruptly. A part of him noticed that there was no hostility coming from Error and that the caring, worried look in the robot’s beautiful face was not false. The voice inside him was yelling too loudly. He felt threatened. He was certain that nothing good could come from this situation. To make matters worse, it was all his fault. “Your eyes! They have the bright blue color!” the robot exclaimed, almost cheerfully. “They look the very pretty.” This… Was this an attempt to calm him down with a compliment, or was this guy mocking him?Lukas’ eyes widened and he found it hard to breathe when Error stared directly at him. On an impulse, he almost drew his knife, but Sydney would never forgive him if he hurt Error. Not that he really wanted to hurt someone who wasn’t a real threat, but someone who was nice and friendly. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost control as quickly as that, ruining this beautiful face because of his own ugly cowardice.“You is feel alright?” The soft question seemed to come from far away and he nodded, being oddly lost while he gazed back at crimson irises. Any second, he would faint. He could feel it. He would simply faint.“And now, kiss!” a third voice suddenly laughed from the door at other end of the room.
Both Spies turned their head. Sydney! Lukas breathed easier, glad that the Sniper had returned. But had it really been necessary to make such a joke? Now, he blushed even more, only finding small comfort in the fact that Error’s face showed a similar reaction. Of course his brain refused to come up with something witty to say, and while he was still searching for an adequate response, Error was faster.
“You want to see that?”
Lukas didn’t believe his ears, and he knew Sydney’s answer before the Sniper spoke. This might have been a joke a moment ago, but Sydney already saw the potential of his silly remark. Lukas knew him well enough, and the intent was clearly written across his boss’ face. It was two against one. While this one would rather die than denying Sydney any wish, which didn’t really make the situation any easier. Nevertheless, Lukas shook his head. His eyes were fixed in agony on the Sniper’s lips as they seemed to form the answer in slow motion.
“Yes, honey, of course I want to see how my two favorite Spies kiss,” the Sniper answered with a grin and a soft chuckle. He grabbed one of the chairs in the office. The Sniper turned it around so the back faced the still gaping men. He straddled it, resting his chin on his crossed arms.Error recovered quickly. “W..wait…not…” Lukas tried to protest when slim, white fingers began to remove the scarf. He put his hands against the other Spy’s chest, about to push him away, but the long, woven piece of fabric was already gliding to the floor. “But Sydney own the wish and wanting see us kiss.” Gently, one thumb stroked over the now revealed lips. “Scar… she is pretty…”
Lukas swallowed hard. It was only the lower half of his face that had been revealed, and already he felt vulnerable. Error was serious. This was impossible. He couldn’t just kiss a stranger, watched by Sydney. Both thumbs had already found their way under the seam of his mask and began to push it up. “Wait…” he repeated. Error was a bit too eager. From the side, Sydney chuckled again.
“Loosen up, Lukas. It’s just a kiss, nothing to worry about.”‘Sure, it’s just a kiss. That’s why we’ve known each other for years and haven’t had one yet. But a stranger should be okay?’He wanted to express his uneasiness, but he couldn’t. His tongue refused to move. It was probably for the best, talking back was not something he liked to do. Nervously, Lukas smiled back at Error, not sure who the robot was a partner in crime with.‘Wish I was like you, simply obeying, not having any problems with this at all…’Well, if a machine with a crush on his Sniper, no, his boss, could deal with it, he should at least try.The mask had been taken away. As gently as Error had touched the old scar on his lip before, the now ran his hand through Lukas short, fair hair.
“Very soft,” the Spy smiled at him encouragingly. He bent forward and carefully pressed his lips against Lukas’. “Soft, too.”
Fighting the urge to turn away and simply run for it, the timid Spy cast another quick glance at Sydney. The Sniper’s dark blue eyes already glowed with excitement. This put him under more pressure than the man right in front of him.
He knew this look on Sydney’s face, had seen it often enough when handsome young men were involved and he better had to leave them alone. For the first time, this look was directed at him. Although not him alone, his mind stated bitterly.
‘But still…’
One hand kept stroking his hair, the other was placed on his hip. Both were shaking slightly.
“You no want at the all?” Error’s whisper sounded nervous, too.
This amazed him and also, to his surprise, comforted him a bit. He closed his eyes, and things appeared to be easier, now that he neither had to see red nor dark eyes staring at him. With a shrug, he reached for Error’s face, letting his fingers slide over the smooth skin and finally cling to strands of white and partly black hair.
Error understood and kissed him a second time, still careful, but with more intensity. Feeling the lips of a stranger on his was aggravating, but with his eyes closed, Lukas could bear it, even admit they felt nice. Warm and soft, not cold or artificial as he had feared. It was easy to forget for a moment that it was a machine who gently licked over the old scar. A thumb stroked softly over the joint of his jaws, and he relaxed a bit, realizing he had been clenching his teeth. Out of reflex he wanted to wet his own, dry lips, but Error’s tongue had already found its way between them. Tentatively, the other Spy licked over lips and teeth, waiting patiently for Lukas to relax a bit more. Finally, Lukas opened his jaws enough to let Error in.
Hesitatingly, still aware that Sydney was watching, Lukas answered the kiss, feeling the Sniper’s excited stare on his face. The Spy allowed his own tongue to move when Error’s slowly brushed over it. He shivered. A sudden rush of heat ran through his body.
The tension, his nervousness, and being touched and kissed by a robot was overwhelming… by an also nervous robot as he could tell by the trembling hands against his skin. Error, who felt so differently from what Lukas had expected. He even smelled differently than he had imagined, not like a machine. Like a man… careful and overwhelming… He groaned lowly, almost reluctantly leaning deeper into the kiss.
What a lovely sight, Sydney thought as he watched. His ever-present smile was wider than usual as adjusted the shades on the bridge of his nose – it would be a shame not to see this as clearly as possible.
Holding a group of rather individual, if not unique, characters together and organizing their lives so the team functioned efficiently was hard work. It could be a real pain, although nothing had seriously soured his mood completely so far.
A little game like this was a nice reward, and he wouldn’t be Sydney if he didn’t make the most of it. He knew that both Spies liked him, but he had decided not to think too much about that. Many people liked him, and he liked many back, so nobody should be hurt along the way. And those two definitely didn’t seem to be hurt in any way right now.
It was too sweet. Error had read him and understood at once what his mind was thinking. Man or machine, it didn’t matter - Error was astonishing. Always helpful, kind and polite, yet so easily blushing when he received some kindness in return. It was cute. The gentle way he handled Lukas and the growing intensity of the kiss they were sharing – beautiful. One hand was reassuringly moving up and down the other Spy’s spine, now holding him in a close embrace. All this revealed another, a more passionate, naughty side, and Sydney already loved the idea of exploring it.
Lukas… Yes, Sydney vaguely guessed that putting his assistant in such a situation wasn’t the most sensitive thing he could do. For a second he wouldn’t have been surprised if Lukas had fled. Or fainted. The Spy certainly looked like he might faint at first. But everything was fine now, as a short, low gasp coming from the nervous man reassured him.
So Sydney had been right; Lukas just needed a little push from time to time. Well, that’s what he was there for, right? Flushed cheeks made a sweet contrast to white and light blonde hair, and Sydney noticed with satisfaction that both men shuddered with more than just nervousness.
A lovely, torturing dilemma – watching this was too delicious for words and it didn’t escape his eyes that both were good kissers. Too good not to share their gift with a Sniper who only too happily acknowledged the outstanding skills of two attractive men.
Oh well, what to do? Of course he could also just wait until they finished… in other words, until his assistant ran out of air. He chuckled. No, that wasn’t an option, what a waste of this nicely built up tension. Really, Error was amazing. Sydney couldn’t tell if it was subconsciously or intended, but the robot shifted himself closer to Lukas, pressing his his groin against the other Spy.
Sydney stood up, time to intervene. He should have expected it – Lukas was shying away, and that was something that the Sniper did not want to happen.
‘Alright’, thought Lukas, ‘Sydney had his fun.’ They were kissing. Alright, he liked how the tongue of a robot felt in his mouth. No pressure, nothing extraordinary happened to him. Sydney had been right – it was just a kiss. Error’s lips were as warm as the hand caressing his back. Warm, gentle and experienced. That, or very well programmed.
‘Who programs a killing machine to kiss like that anyway?’ he wondered for a second and tried to forget about it. As always, he was thinking too much, and his mind already began to warn him. If he didn’t try to relax, he would put up a poor show, even worse than he probably already did. There was no way he was equal to Error, the perfect creation. This was enough to rekindle his nervousness.
He had no idea if it was a coincidence or if Error actually had reacted to his uneasiness, but the kiss suddenly became deeper and more demanding. The hand behind him wandered down his back, closer to his backside. Error moved closer, making their groins touch. Lukas opened his eyes. Hard. He felt definitely a hard-on through the layers of fabric, against his own. How was that even possible, he hadn’t realized… and Error was a robot! Was he really built for that?Lukas broke the kiss and shrank back when something – or rather someone pressed against his back.
Sydney!
“Too sexy just to stand by, darling,” the Sniper whispered in his ear from behind, his usual, amused voice altered by a low, growling undertone. Lukas shivered. Two long arms reached around him, taking hold of Error and pulling him closer.
“Error,” Sydney began, still close to the Spy’s ear. “you enjoyed this, too, didn’t you, sweetheart? Good,” he added when Error nodded. “You two are too adorable. Will you help me? We need to teach our Lukas here how to relax?”
“Sydney…” Lukas’ faint attempt of protest was cut off when the tip of the tall Sniper’s tongue moved along the outline of his ear. “Shh, it’s okay, dear. I know what I’m doing.”
‘Not reassuring at all…’
“Of course I have help. Lukas, and Sydney.” Again, Lukas closed his eyes as Error began kissing him, while placing the hands on the nervous Spy’s hips. Now it wasn’t only Error. From behind, the Sniper shoved his fingers under Lukas’ black sweater, letting them rest on his waist. Sydney’s tongue wandered to the Spy’s throat. Gently, he kissed the pale skin, playfully biting him a few times.
“Oh, Error, honey,” Sydney muttered in between kisses, and Lukas felt his boss’ notably hard dick pressed against his bottom. Caught between two aroused men, being kissed and bitten, made fighting back another moan impossible.
“Don’t worry about me, dear. I am relaxed.” The Sniper’s words were rather whispered than spoken, and his breath cooled the skin which had just been wetted by his lips and tongue.
Shivering at the tingle running from his throat directly into his spine, the blonde Spy tilted his head back. Lukas’ sweater covered his throat again the very moment Sydney stopped pushing it down, but the Sniper had something else in mind now.
Gently, he seized the chin of his assistant, and turned his head to the side.
“Hope you don’t mind,“ was the only warning Lukas got. For the first time since he had been working with this team and falling for his boss, felt the desired lips on his. Warm, a bit rough from too much sun. When he opened his mouth to let the Sniper’s eagerly exploring tongue in, he only responded shyly and hesitatingly, fearing he would be too nervous. Or too greedy.
Three hands were shoved under his sweater; fingers were running over his abdomen, his chest; the fingertips gently tracing his ribs. One hand held still his head in its position, but he hardly noticed it. Very slowly, he was losing his fear of failing.
The scent of the Sniper’s aftershave he knew so well now filled his nose. It clouded his mind and reminded him how close he was to this man. He returned the kiss now, not holding back the hunger he had felt for this moment for so long.
Pressed his back tightly against Sydney’s body, he almost didn’t notice how Error’s lips now glided along his throat. His sweater was pushed up by the other Spy, and the flat, almost hollow stomach exposed; milky white skin that almost matched the robot’s. A faint, pleased growl eased the last of Lukas’ worries away. His boss was satisfied with him.
Lukas enjoyed the taste of cigarettes and coffee. Wanting more, he reached behind his back, feeling for Sydney’s hips. He tried to grab him by the belt of his pants, which was excitingly difficult in this position.
His face felt colder when the Sniper suddenly turned away.
Confused, like returning to reality after a dream, Lukas blinked. Two pairs of hands were still touching him, but now it was Error who received Sydney’s attention. Bending over the Spy’s shoulder, they kissed. Now he remembered. They weren’t alone. There was the third one. A beautiful one, whose face with the perfect, delicate and smooth features was painful to watch when it showed the shy excitement Lukas had felt a few seconds ago.
Of course he had known it before, but now he saw it – both of them wanted Sydney. Both of them could have him now. This was better than nothing, right? Error… He was beautiful. The hands that were wandering deeper towards the blonde Spy’s belt knew what they were doing. He, himself, didn’t. Slowly, Lukas lifted one hand around the other Spy’s neck, feeling the soft, black ends of his otherwise white hair brush over his fingers. He almost thought he could feel the man’s quickened pulse when he touched his throat. Robots didn’t have pulses.
This was absurd. The whole thing was absurd. With such a rival and Sydney curious and horny as always…
Lukas just happened to be here, that’s all There was nothing to be curious about him. Before he had finished the thought, he tried to break away with a jolt. Finally, he would do the right thing, as he should have done in the first place – leave. Then he wouldn’t be… wouldn’t feel like he was in the way.
“You don’t want to flee now, not when the real fun is about to begin?”
Sydney knew his assistant well enough. It was actually a surprise that his try to escape had happened so late. He focused on Lukas again. His fingers of one hand ran through the short, blonde hair while his other arm was wrapped around Error’s waist. “Believe me, you don’t wanna miss that, darling,” the Sniper breathed between a few light kisses.
Without hesitation, his free hand glided over Error’s hip and reached for the pale Spy’s groin. He gripped the man’s hardened length through the fabric, drawing a surprised hiss him.
“I want you here. Both of you.” The amused tone had vanished, and all that was left was the low, growling timbre of a man who meant what he said. Even Lukas couldn’t deny it this time. The kiss, more a bite with a followed, soothing lick, wasn’t a lie or fabricated.
“Watch, or join, Lukas. I hope you decide for the latter.”
Error had misinterpreted Sydney’s body language. The Sniper’s hand so suddenly feeling for his dick – even if it was through his clothes – was unexpected. But it was good. Too good; he feared the new adjustments of his system would not be enough to prevent him from overheating a second time today. The situation was unpredictable. One second Sydney kissed Lukas. The next he turned around, opened Error’s jacket and helped him out of it. The Spy’s shirt was unbuttoned right after it.
Strong hands ran over his torso. He sensed how the warmth in the man’s fingers – in his whole body – increased. He wanted to learn more about it, feeling it directly, with his own hands on Sydney’s skin.
Still a bit hesitant, Error mirrored the Sniper’s actions, freeing him from his shirt.
Humans were so different. It wasn’t a programmed process to mimic life. It was life itself he felt pulsating under his sensitive fingertips, not for the first time in his existence. This time, though, it was Sydney’s life, and he, Error, could influence it with his touch, feeling the increasing temperature and the fast, strong heartbeat. He heard him breathing in sharper.
Sydney… the man was easy to read right now, it was addicting. More. He needed to experience more of this fascinating human. Sydney’s honest reactions encouraged him to lean against the Sniper. Error pulled him into a kiss that was answered right away; the apparent delight was a pleasant, satisfying feeling. He was positive that their encounter wouldn’t end here today with just kissing, and what would, would feel good.
How different from the kiss before…
His mind failed to analyze why the other Spy was so reluctant to enjoy his kiss, when Lukas’ body gave clearly its consent. It was confusing, but tempting, too. He didn’t need to look at the blonde Spy to know he watched them. He felt the blue eyes on his face and his body. There was no logical reason, but being observed like this added to his excitement. But that wasn’t what Sydney had hoped for and he knew it.
“Sydney, what is the want you have?” he asked, ready to manipulate the situation and do what was needed to fulfill the Sniper’s desires. The Sniper’s lips rested on Error’s collarbone as he smiled mischievously.
“Whatever Error wants,” Sydney replied at once. Error gave a rather human-like sigh, not even questioning why he did so. It was because he knew that this was what was called ‘to be teased’. A weird concept, but challenging.
He liked it, to be teased, by Sydney. He glanced at Lukas. The blonde had been teased before, but didn’t seem to enjoy it. His red met the other Spy’s blue eyes for a brief moment, but Lukas turned away. It was enough.
Lukas needed the same thing – the same person – like he did, but for some reason, he just watched. Error focused on Sydney, moving close enough so his bare chest moved over the Sniper’s skin as he stretched a bit.
“Want you to feeling good. And I want the you to make Lukas feeling good.” With his arms around Sydney’s neck, Error pulled him close for a moment. From the way how Sydney welcomed the little action Error could tell that the Sniper enjoyed the friction from his groin moving against his own.
“I can doing much to feeling you good…” he promised. The Sniper growled some incoherent words that didn’t bear any clear meaning, but Error sensed that Sydney approved of his answer.
“Bet you can, darling, and I’m dying to find out how good,” the man finally answered. “And I’ll do as you wish in return,” Sydney added with a grin, and reached out for Lukas’ arm. “Guess ya still can’t change your spots, right, dear? Come…” He smiled encouragingly at the tensed up Spy and dragged him along as he took a few steps backwards, towards the couch.
“Sydney…” Lukas groaned in a faint protest when the Sniper let himself fall onto the sofa, pulling the blonde Spy down with him.
“Yes, that’s me, handsome,” the other man laughed, one hand already busily trying to get rid of Lukas’ sweater while he seized the Spy’s hair and kissed him. In between, he gave Error a quick sign to join before he let his fingers wander over Lukas’ muscles again until they relaxed.
Those two humans together, kissing and caring, looked beautiful. A sudden sadness rose in Error, knowing he could never have that. Finding each other, loving each other, growing old and one day, leaving. While he had to say good bye and stay behind to watch others coming and leaving. He would befriend them, love them but never really be one of them… These thoughts were older than those two men.
Suddenly, he smiled. He could be with two humans now, and they didn’t mind to be with him, so not feeling happy was irrational.
Lukas was still tensed, but happier, he saw it in the blonde Spy’s face. Error stopped worrying. Not averting his eyes from the two men’s features, he knelt down next to Sydney. After opening the belt he quickly unbuttoned the Sniper’s pants and shoved them down. The underwear didn’t hide the man’s arousal; the outlines of his hard cock clearly visible through the tight piece of clothing.
Error briefly touched it and immediately, the Sniper shifted into a position to give him better access. Assured by this reaction, Error drew his hand away. He let his tongue ran over the fabric, tracing the shape of the secluded dick.
Above him, the Sniper groaned, but Sydney didn’t stop kissing the other Spy. He tried, with one hand, to open Lukas’ belt as well while his other hand was still buried in the man’s hair, as if he didn’t want to risk that Lukas’ insecurity got the better of him again. But the blonde, however, didn’t seem like he would try to get away again any time soon.
Satisfied with this result, Error focused on Sydney, ready to fulfill his part of the command. He peeled the underpants down, revealing the full, hard length. Now without any fabric in between, his tongue glided over the smooth skin. Increasing warmth. Firmness. Tensing muscles in the thighs and abdomen. A hissed breath. Yes, Sydney’s whole body indicated clearly how much he enjoyed the wet touches. Error paid close attention to the Sniper’s body language, to re-affirm that he was doing it right and, if necessary, to do better. But also because observing this man was exciting for him, adding to his own desire and wish to feel.
Sydney leaned back and the corners of his mouth hinted at a content smile when his dick disappeared halfway in Error’s mouth. Warm and wet, not different from any human he had been with before. The Spy was carefully and slowly finding out what Sydney liked By repeating a movement of the tongue, or using a bit more of his teeth, Error was succeeding before the Sniper realized in his mind how good it was.
No need for directions or questions. Error was reading him and his body. And certainly not failing. Error… he was the kind of a perfect lover who received pleasure by giving pleasure, there was no doubt about that.
‘Perfection… comes in many forms…’the Sniper thought by himself. He had pulled Lukas close enough to gain a firm grip of the slim hips. His own fingers twitched when Error’s teeth brushed over the glans, feeling the anticipation of pain that didn’t come, and even that was soothed away at once by a slow lick of the tongue, followed by gently sucking lips. Short fingernails scratched playfully over the soft skin of his testicles, adding to the whole delightful sensations.
Hissing, then sighing, Sydney focused again on Lukas, a part of him glad for having this tempting, blonde and blue-eyed distraction from his groin. A good, skilled mouth was welcome; one that was too good even more. However, loosing himself too soon would not only be a pity in this situation – finishing already, with two handsome men by his side… he had to keep up a reputation after all.
‘Similar, yet different…’ Sydney mused for a second as he watched Lukas’ face - the blonde’s glowing cheeks were indeed similar to Error’s. But the latter openly observed, while Lukas’ blue eyes wandered nervously from the wall behind them to Sydney’s face. Then to Error’s - how the Sniper’s hard dick left the man’s mouth, the skin slightly wet, and long fingers now wrapped around the shaft, stroking, a thumb pressed against the tip.
Feeling Error’s fingers and tongue, feeling how the pressure rose up to an almost painful point and seeing Lukas’ face was almost too much. Lukas watched them, with an expression of arousal and guilty pleasure. Beautiful how plainly on the good-looking face. What a shame the young Spy always hid his features behind that scarf. Well, enough hiding today.
Sydney looked up at him, wistfully avoiding his eyes – he wouldn’t risk making Lukas feel the least bit uncomfortable after the insecure Spy had been coaxed into this little adventure thus far. As expected, Lukas abruptly turned his head when the Sniper moved his hand over the bulge forming under the striped trousers. Taking advantage of his assistant’s speechlessness, Sydney massaged the hard-on, and was rewarded with a low moan.
With a satisfied smile, the Sniper’s fingers continued rubbing over the still covered erection, felt carefully along the shaft, the glans. What he heard and felt was both very promising. Really, a very nice voice. With this voice, face and body there was nothing Lukas needed to be shy about. If only he’d realize this… On the other hand, having him exclusively without any other person around ever suspecting what could be revealed behind mask and cover was a sweet, delicious secret. Sharing with Error didn’t spoil it, it only added to the thrill.
Curiosity decided it was about time to have a taste of the young man; he was looking forward to seeing the reaction Lukas would display. If he remained shy and kept blushing. Or if Sydney was able to make Lukas let himself go. But when he began to unbutton the Spy’s pants, a cold hand stopped him.
‘I so desperately want you… I can’t stand having you now, just like this,’Lukas wished he could explain. Even if it had made sense in his own mind, his lips were sealed anyway. All his brain allowed him to do was to slowly shake his head when he felt Sydney’s questioning gaze on his face.
“Wanna stop?” The soft, attentive tone of the question stung, and he shook his head again. His boss wanted this and enjoyed everything happening as much as Error. And, in a way, as much as Lukas himself. That was why he hadn’t been able to look away, despite the nagging jealousy he loathed so much. No matter how much a part of him wanted to be in the place of the robot, he also liked what he saw.
Again, he caught himself staring. Error stopped sucking at the Sniper’s dick when he realized he was being watched and how the mood threatened to shift. Almost reluctantly Lukas answered the encouraging smile, but he swallowed hard, when a white hand reached for his wrist and tried to pull him down. He could have spared himself glancing at Sydney - of course he already nodded his delighted consent. Good, if that’s what his boss wanted, he didn’t mind so much. Giving was not so difficult. Receiving the attention, even if the thought alone gave him a shiver, was a completely different matter altogether.
Kneeling down next to Error, between his boss’ spread legs, he mirrored the other Spy’s previous actions. He shivered again as now his tongue licked along the shaft – but with more firmness, adding a little bit of extra pressure when he glided over the corona. Satisfied with the long sigh from Sydney, he continued trailing over the sensitive organ with the tip of the tongue.
With one hand lying on the Sniper’s bare stomach, he could feel the muscles move under the skin as they contracted and relaxed. If asked, Lukas would have denied it - if he had been able to say anything at all – but while at it, he knew what he was doing and that he was good at it.
Slowly, he relaxed, focusing on his task, not even minding anymore when Error joined him. A part of him finally accepted Error for what he was – a robot, but loving and attentive, even to him. Not here to ridicule Lukas, but to gently pulling him along, giving him the feeling to be wanted as well. And without Error, he would never have had the chance to be this close to Sydney, showing him that he was good for something.
For a second, the blonde wondered how the Sniper could bear this so long, having two men running their tongues over his dick from two sides.
A hardly understandable, guttural curse told him that his boss was enjoying it. As Lukas felt the dark blue eyes resting on his face, he could guess that the Sniper was also enjoying the show as well. Good, as long as Lukas didn’t look up, he would be alright. However, he closed his own eyes, just to be on the safe side, and relied on his sense of touch. Accidentally, his tongue brushed against Error’s once or twice and he was surprised that it didn’t scare or disturb him.
Here he was, on his knees in front of Sydney, licking his boss’ hard cock, and sharing it with Error, a robot. Weird as it seemed, it felt alright. Thrilling. He didn’t even shy back when his fingers moved over the tensed skin of the Sniper’s scrotum and met the other Spy’s fingertips.
Feeling how his face turned redder when he tried to imagine what Sydney saw right now, he focused his attention quickly on his tongue again. And Error’s. By now, Lukas wasn’t so sure anymore if the touches really were a pure coincidence, given how often it happened, and how long the other man tried to make the touch last.
Before Lukas could decide if he wanted to risk a glance at Error’s face, a gentle hand seized him by the back of his head. He hadn’t completely been pulled away from Sydney when the other Spy’s lips were already pressed against his, and an eager tongue was invading his mouth. Tasting Sydney on Error’s lips and smelling both men drove him crazy. As unlikely as it was for him, Lukas gave willingly into the kiss.
It lasted a moment and made him completely forget the uncalled for little grudge he had felt towards Error. This man was skilled, probably more than him, and passionate, but also tender and careful not to make Lukas uncomfortable. He could sense that. During this short moment of intimacy Lukas realized he wanted to like the other Spy, even if it hurt to share Sydney’s attention with him.
Another touch interrupted them.
Sydney bent forward and caressed his assistant’s cheek. Unintentionally, Lukas opened his eyes and looked to the side at once when he met the Sniper’s intense stare.
“Dear, that’s one hot, gifted mouth ya have.”
As if to stress his words, Sydney’s thumb moved over Lukas’ slightly parted lips. “Ya mind repaying Error with it, in my place? If you don’t mind, too, of course?” he addressed the second Spy, who nodded. As if Error would ever say ‘no’ to one of Sydney’s whims. Hell, Lukas was the same - if all this didn’t please his boss so much, Lukas would have never agreed to even kiss a stranger to begin with.
But, this wasn’t only about Sydney anymore. Error was astounding. Lukas still couldn’t ignore the fact that the other man was a robot, built to massacre humans on the battlefield. Yet this machine knew how to handle him; he helped him to relax, with a soft voice and small, gentle and reassuring touches. Slowly, Error had guided him into this, from the very first kiss on. He also seemed to touch Sydney the way he liked it, while finding enjoyment for pleasuring alone, without being touched himself.
The idea of a perfect lover should scare Lukas, but somehow, it was quite the opposite. Lukas found himself trusting Error’s gentleness, and without worrying about being pushed or rejected, he couldn’t deny he was curious to see and learn more about his fascinating rival.
At Lukas’ nod, Error stood up, and allowed Lukas to help to open his pants.
Still on his knees, the blonde couldn’t resist staring at the white organ for a moment. Everything looked so real; if it weren’t for the unusual skin color, he would never assume that Error wasn’t human. Every detail, even veins filled with blood – or whatever circulated through them – looked absolutely natural. And beautiful.
Embarrassed, he told himself that he wasn’t a boy anymore who was seeing a full grown and erected cock for the first time. Lukas hesitatingly wrapped his hand around it. Yes, it wasn’t different at all. A bit smoother, perhaps.
He moved closer, until the head was touching his lips, and opened his mouth. A bit more than half of the length he was able to swallow when Error stopped pushing before it became uncomfortable. ‘Probably sensing it,’ Lukas thought, by now certain that the Spy paid close attention to every reaction. Again, Sydney was only a watcher, while Lukas began to suck the length filling his mouth, making good use of his tongue.
With a hint of glee he only rarely felt he wondered if his boss maybe even needed a moment to cool down. Shy, timid, insecure and whatever the others called him, Lukas knew enough about a dick to notice when a man was close.
Error still had a bit of leeway, but Lukas didn’t mind. Licking and sucking the other Spy felt delightful, like a human male, yet a bit different… unique. Even if Error didn’t growl in a way Sydney did - his hissed sighs spoke undoubtedly of enjoyment.
“Hey, darlings, don’t forget about me,” an excited Sydney interrupted them.
The Sniper waited for Lukas to stop and lean back, releasing Error. Grinning, he leaned forward and placed his hands on the standing Spy’s hips. He pulled him onto his lap and enjoyed the lean back against his chest. Both men shivered when Sydney’s dick was pressed against Error’s backside.
Lukas’ wasn’t sure what to do with his hands – if he should move over to the two men, focus on Sydney, or on Error… He watched how the Sniper’s legs opened, spreading Error’s legs wide apart, offering an unhindered view of the heavily blushing Spy’s exposed lower region.
His arms held firmly by Sydney’s hands, Error’s range of motion was limited - a sight that didn’t leave Lukas cold.
He left his kneeling position and placed himself between the opened legs, reaching out to touch the other Spy, but, as so often, hesitated. Error didn’t look directly at his face, but he felt the red eyes resting on him. The feeling paralyzed him. He wanted to touch the other man while his own body seemed to be bound by invisible chains. At this point, this was not only unsettling, but even more arousing. He lifted his gaze from Error’s pale throat and looked at Sydney, realizing that the Sniper was observing him closely.
“Ya haven’t really touched him yet, have ya?”
Invitingly, he let go of one of Error’s arms and let his hand glide over the Spy’s shoulder, then his chest, until he stopped at the man’s waist.
“Come, try. You’ll be surprised.”
Following his boss’s lead was easier than following his own impulses. Slowly, Lukas’ fingers wandered over Error’s collarbone. For moment, he wrapped them around the Spy’s pale throat and his thumb pressed gently against the soft skin of the larynx. He heard Error breathing, saw his chest heaving. An imitation of life. If Error were human, just a little bit more pressure, right here… quickly applied… fast and clean… would end the problem…
His hand twitched back. What was he thinking?! Certainly not…?
Neither Error nor Sydney seemed to have noticed his temporary lapse of reason. ‘It was just for a second after all,’ he calmed himself, pushing the dark thought away. He also guiltily refused to acknowledged to himself that it hadn’t affected his excitement. On the contrary - Lukas believed, if Sydney would try to strip down his pants again, he wouldn’t reject him this time.
Being unaware of it, his hand had began to run over the robot’s smooth chest, only realizing it himself when Error shivered under his fingertips as they glided over the slightly rougher, firm skin of the nipples.
“Didn’t I tell ya?” Sydney grinned, and Lukas nodded.
Not one single hair covered the pale body, but the softness was still different. Not that of a battle-tested man. Or anything he had expected from a machine.
“Beautiful, eh?” the Sniper continued. “Almost like a woman.”
Lukas nodded again, although he thought more of a very young man rather than any woman. But yes, very beautiful, to the eyes and hands.
Still feeling guilty because of his earlier thought, he bent down, his hand still caressing Error. He kissed him, trying to be as gentle as the robot was before with him. His free hand reached for the man’s dick, colliding with Sydney’s fingers.
The Sniper smiled encouragingly once Lukas showed initiative and not only kissed Error, but also readily paid attention to the man’s erection. Nice development, very nice. He shifted his position a bit under the weight of the other man, making it easier for him to reach around the man’s waist. Feeling his way down the Spy’s groin, he went deeper.
At once, as if sensing his intention, Error adjusted his pose and shoved his lower body forward, just enough for Sydney to move past his scrotum. The Sniper couldn’t resist stroking over the soft sac, and for a few seconds, Lukas’ fingers joined him. Error enjoyed the undivided attention from both men, as Sydney could tell from the way the Spy pressed his back closer against the Sniper, and his lower body against their hands. It added to his own pleasure to see him so responsive to their touches.
“Lukas, dear, do me a favor.”
At the instruction of only few words Lukas left Error to the care of Sydney, who only to happily continued slowly, almost lazily, stroking the robot’s hard shaft. He glanced briefly at Lukas, who was the only one still fully dressed. Although the clothes were a bit too wide, Sydney could easily make out the slim build of the man’s body. The Spy’s movements were light and quick, although his hands seemed a bit shaky when they searched Sydney’s desk. Not from his usual nervousness, at least not alone. The excitement was clearly visible in Lukas’ face, and the Sniper wished he could look him in the eyes. Of course he knew about his assistant’s aversion for eye-contact, and respected it. However, he would love do more than to look at him directly.
He was curious how Lukas would react if he were in Error’s position; he wanted to know how his body would tense up, and his groans sound.
But if Lukas didn’t even allow him to help him out of his pants, Sydney had to accept that.
This was already a very delightful situation, so no reason why they shouldn’t make the best of it.
The Spy had returned and was already squeezing some of the content from the small tube in Sydney’s palm. Hand lotion. Convenient that Lukas knew the particular order of things in and on his boss’ desk as well as Sydney himself.
The Sniper’s long, now slick fingers took hold of Lukas’ hand, covering it equally.
“Thanks, Lukas.”
“You must not to doing that.” Error sighed when one slim finger pressed against his entrance, slowly but firmly finding its way inside.
“I can adjusting, no preparing needing. You can doing fuck me directly.” The back of his head now almost completely rested on the Sniper’s shoulder.
“And denying myself the treat to hear my favorite Error talking dirty?” Sydney chuckled. “Need or not, ya seem to enjoy it, right?” A second finger followed easily.
Being built to please, he really didn’t need stretching. His engineer had even taken rough handling into account, so he wouldn’t feel any pain even without any preparation at all. Error could feel the pressure though, and everything else a human could.
“Yes…” he obediently answered the question, hissing the words through his teeth. If Sydney wanted him to receive pleasure, too, it was a command he didn’t mind following at all.
“Sydney, I…” he began, but was cut off short by Lukas.
The other Spy’s hand was already stroking along Error’s length again, the sensation much more delicate with the lotion covering the skin. Before Error could finish his sentence, Lukas’ lips were on his and the tongue was pushed into his mouth, surprisingly vigorously, lacking the usual hesitance. A dominating kiss, coming from Lukas, was something Error would never have calculated on, given his observations of the human Spy. That was what he loved about humans – a part of them was always unpredictable.
He swallowed his own words, giving up the idea to speak and did instead as he was told – enjoying the feeling of two fingers widening his hole.
Error gasped in the other man’s mouth when a third one joined – this time, not from Sydney, but from Lukas. He wanted to look at the blonde, to see what thoughts were written on the man’s face.
However, even if most humans he knew usually closed their eyes when kissing, he didn’t want to risk meeting Lukas’ eyes, sensing that this would destroy the bit of courage he had gained all of a sudden. This man was not always easy to understand, not as easy as Error had assumed at first.
Thinking became more and more difficult for him, with his whole body shivering around the fingers inside of him and his mouth silenced by an almost hard kiss.
He was programmed to mimic humans in many aspects - not being able to keep unlimited control over his own arousal was one of them. So he squirmed, welcoming the touches, while trying to escape them at the same time, fearing he wouldn’t be able to last as long as necessary. It was a mistake, as with every shifting of his hips he thrust his dick in Lukas’ hand, that still was wrapped around it.
“Go easy on him, dear,” he heard Sydney’s voice advising Lukas.
At once, the kiss stopped, and the hand let go of his dick, making Error wish he would simply ignore the Sniper and continue. Another shiver ran through his body when the fingers were pulled out, leaving him with a raw want for more.
Sydney placed his hands on Error’s waist, but before the Sniper could give him a push, Error sensed what he was supposed to do. His legs still apart and resting on Sydney’s, he lifted his hips; his hands were clinging to Lukas’ shoulders for support.
Given the way he had been constructed, and being loosened up by both Sydney and Lukas, entering him should have been easy at that point.
However, Sydney refused to simply thrust in. Instead, he took it slow, pushing his hard dick into Error’s body inch by inch.
When the last, thicker part of the hard cock stretched him more, and finally disappeared in him, the Spy’s low moan mixed with the Sniper’s long-drawn-out growl. Error wrapped his arms around Lukas, feeling the other Spy shiver while the blonde buried his face in the crook of the robot’s neck.
With carefully controlled speed, the Sniper pulled out and pushed in again. Repeatedly. The hands on his hips held Error steady, hindering him from moving on his own, so there was nothing he could do to increase the slow-paced rhythm.
Lukas, meanwhile, freed himself from the embrace and shoved Error away and closer into Sydney’s arms. The full, massive dick seemed to go in even deeper, pressing harder against Error’s inner walls. For once, and for the first time in a while, Error dared to open his eyes, avoiding to look where he assumed the other Spy’s face to be. The glance was enough to see Lukas’ unreadable expression. The eyes shining even brighter in contrast to the red cheeks. For a moment, Error thought he sensed resentment, but as he dropped his gaze and let it rest on the young, still fully clothed Spy’s groin, he stopped worrying.
The fabric of the trousers clearly tightened over the man’s hard-on, a sight making Error wondering why Lukas refused to be touched by either of them. When he was so obviously aroused, only from watching and giving, why fight it?
The thought vanished from his mind when Sydney pushed in with a sudden long, hard thrust.
Then, the movement stopped altogether.
“Are ya in a hurry?”
For a short moment, Error struggled against the firm grip, but held still when Sydney more panted than spoke to him. “No,” he answered dutifully.
“But you want to be fucked – harder?”
The anticipation in the Sniper’s hoarse voice told Error how much this man was enjoying just hearing an answer from him. Practically, a simple confirmation, no physical act, no direct stimulation of sensitive nerves. Illogical as it was, listening to the almost breathless, deep voice whispering in his ear, Error understood – felt – the arousing effect of seemingly unnecessary words.
“Yes.”
He shuddered when his reply was answered by a low growl, expecting Sydney to finally continue moving. However, the Sniper didn’t.
“What do ya Lukas want to do with you?” Sydney asked instead.
The blonde inhaled sharply, and Error tensed up. He didn’t want to cause the other Spy any uncomfortableness by his own, selfish wishes. But he couldn’t refuse answering.
“I… doesn’t… what he is want…” He twitched when the Sniper bit his throat. It couldn’t hurt him, but he recognized it as a punishing reaction.
“More of this?” Slightly, Sydney thrust his hips inward; his dick only moving for an inch inside of the Spy. This time, a groan was the answer.
“Okay, then tell him what ya want him to do, darling.” Sydney, to Error’s relief, didn’t sound annoyed or impatient. He even seemed to enjoy this little game more than a straight answer.
Error didn’t even have to try to avoid looking at Lukas’ eyes - this time, he himself felt too shy and embarrassed himself.
“More suck… please…” His face grew hotter than before while he watched how the other Spy went down on his knees between his legs.
“Good boy,” Sydney praised, but Error wasn’t sure who of the two Spies he meant. He considered asking, but didn’t care when Lukas’ wet tongue glided over his dick, while he was still sitting motionless on Sydney’s lap, filled up with the Sniper’s steady, hard cock.
Seeing his boss’ face when the Sniper entered Error and fucked him, just like this, hurt.
Yet, it turned Lukas on, to hear Sydney’s low voice, and to see Error’s needy, hungry face.
He couldn’t help wondering how much of his own need and arousal he didn’t dare to show was mirrored in Error’s pale, delicate face.
Watching how the man he wanted was moving into his rival… it was painful, yes, but also thrilling. Error, how he shivered and panted, almost helpless with his lust when Sydney stopped, was a hypnotizing sight. So when the other Spy asked him – begged him – to suck him, Lukas moved calmly, like under a spell. Error’s dick in his mouth felt as hard as his own erection in his pants.
A few times, when his tongue went over the sensitive head, he thought that Error wouldn’t be able to hold back any longer, but even when Sydney began thrusting again, the robot kept control. Lukas wasn’t sure if he could have done that, if he were in the same position, but then again, what did he know about robots and their sexual features?
Switching positions with Error… having Sydney move inside… even without the other Spy present the very idea made him nervous. The lower region of his body thought differently however.
By now, neither touching himself nor having one of the men helping him with his own dick would soon become unbearably painful.
Alright, he had to admit it - he had changed his mind. Refusing Sydney because it had felt like exposing himself had been stupid. Of course he had, as always, made the wrong decision, and now it was too late.
Yet, he was still accepted to be here. They hadn’t sent him away because he was boring, so, why not trying to make the best of the situation?
He sucked harder on the long shaft, swallowing the cock as deep as he possibly could, and added some pressure with his teeth. Maybe enough to be painful for a human, but he had already understood that Error wasn’t able to feel pain. His efforts were rewarded with a moan, and a hand on his neck urged him to continue.
A sudden, tingling sensation on his tongue and lips, followed by a long, half hissed, half groaned sound from Sydney, made him stop abruptly.
“Gawd, what was that?” he heard Sydney pant, surprise and delight in his voice. Lukas stared openly at Error’s face in his bewilderment.
“I’m… I’m apologize…” the other Spy answered, bashful, but still caught up in his excitement.
“Rarely… when good, a lot, then statics… malfunction… happens… hurt you?”
Lukas felt for his lips. Only a small tingle remained and vanished within seconds, nothing painful.
“Hurt? Nah, not at all, that was amazing.” Sydney. Of course he was thrilled, even by unexpected electrical impulses.
“Can you control it?” the Sniper added curiously, but Error shook his head.
“No, very weak, very random, only when…”
“Only when ya really turned on, eh?”
Lukas couldn’t see his boss’ expression, but that didn’t matter - he knew that Sydney was grinning while he finished Error’s sentence.
Error nodded, and as sudden as they had stopped, Sydney almost forcefully continued to thrust.
“Let’s see if we can control it if ya can’t.”
Error cried out at the now increased speed of the dick being pushed into his ass. His fingers clawed into Lukas’ hair and the blonde took this as the signal to focus on the Spy’s erection again; first skeptical, but soon as intense as before. Error didn’t lie – so when he had said it was harmless, then it was harmless. Regardless, Lukas wasn’t as excited about the new revelation of Error’s features as Sydney. That aside, in spite of himself he enjoyed sucking the robot’s cock; not only was Error very responsive – which was rewarding - Lukas also liked the taste. The first few drops on his tongue were neither of the salty nor bitter taste he had experienced so far. If he had to swallow he wouldn’t mind.
Yet, as usual, whenever Lukas finally came to terms with a fact or situation, Sydney had another plan in mind.
“Ya said you are… adjustable…, right?”
Although the Sniper whispered, the blonde clearly understood him.
“Let’s see if both of us can take ya, at once. If these… statics happen again, Lukas can feel them, too.”
The blonde Spy let go of Error’s dick, staring at the man’s face. He saw the lips move but didn’t hear the answer – didn’t need to, he knew it anyway.
At first, he was about to protest. No way he could do that! Having sex with a stranger - as a faint, but still existing voice in him insisted - at the same time with Sydney…
His own dick ached in his pants as his gaze wandered over Error’s shaking body and rested on the flushed face, with the parted lips, the half-closed eyes…
Maybe there was a way.
Quickly, he looked around and searched for his scarf. Once found, he stood up and slowly bent over Error’s face. He kissed him lightly, buying a few, precious moments of time, before he finally could bring up enough courage. Holding the scarf in both hands, he laid it over the other Spy’s eyes.
“Can I…?”
Error nodded, only for a second looking directly at the blue eyes above him before he closed his red ones. For Lukas an uncomfortable second, but enough to see that the man trusted him.
With a fluid, knowing motion, he wrapped the scarf once around Error’s head and fixed it with a knot. He took a step back, looking at the quickly breathing, now blindfolded Spy.
Over Error’s shoulder, Sydney grinned and nodded approvingly at Lukas. With his hands under Error’s legs, the Sniper carefully leaned back against the wall. Ignoring Sydney’s face as much as possible, Lukas now paid close attention to the man in front of him.
The look in his eyes had changed the moment he knew Error could not be staring back at him anymore.
A hint of a grin appeared on the blonde’s face and he moved closer, until his lips slightly touched Error’s ear.
“You can’t get enough. Isn’t that so? You are that needy.”
His voice was still low, but unusually steady and calm.
“Help me with this,” Lukas whispered, grabbing Error by his wrists and leading the Spy’s hands to the waistband of his trousers.
For the second time, Lukas kissed him roughly, while Error removed the belt. His fingers moved surely, even though he couldn’t see. Within a few seconds, his pants were pushed down.
“Well done. No, don’t touch me!”
In a quick, short moment of raising panic, he seized the hands again and shoved them away when they clasped around his hardened, aching cock. “Please…” he added quickly, to soften his harsh words. Not that he wouldn’t have loved feeling the warm fingers; he, too, was close to his limits. But Sydney expected him to do more than just standing here, enjoying a hand-job.
That, and the fear of giving up the last bit of distance… Error’s eyes might have been covered, but Lukas still couldn’t explain his reaction to him, so he didn’t even try.
This time, he was more his gentle self when he nipped on Error’s lip. His own fingers brushed over the Spy’s hard-on, and, having his own free now, he couldn’t resist to bring both their dicks together. Both of them groaned, Error at the unexpected sensation, Lukas at finally feeling the close contact of another man’s skin against his erection.
Stroking, though, was already too much – at the touch, his body wanted to let go of the tension.
To control himself, Lukas forcefully bit in Error’s shoulder, not even surprised anymore how it wasn’t any different from biting a human. He could even feel the faint, salty and metallic taste of a blood-like substance when his teeth dug too deep into the artificial skin.
Error hissed through his teeth, but Lukas wasn’t sure if it was because of the friction between their erections or because of the sudden bite.
“Hurry… please.”
Whatever the reason was, Error apparently didn’t mind at all. As intended before, Lukas’ hand went deeper. Carefully, but without hesitance, he felt for the Spy’s entrance, not completely accidentally letting his finger slide along the root of Sydney’s shaft. The growl coming from the Sniper told him his touch was appreciated.
However, he didn’t even have to fully push a finger inside – the tightness easily yielded with a bit of pressure.
So, if he couldn’t hurt Error anyway…
Lukas placed his own cock over the Sniper’s, directly at the hole, and slowly pushed…
“Gawd!” Sydney’s growl was drowned out by Error’s long, deep moan when the Spy was further stretched, to a point that still didn’t cause pain, but pressure, to an almost alarming level.
Lukas bit on his tongue, fighting not to cry out.
Neither of the men was of small build, Sydney’s dick alone had filled Error very well.
Tight.
It was painfully tight being caught between Error’s only slowly stretching walls and the hard cock of his boss. But it felt good, more so as he pushed deeper. He was only half in when he paused, panting. Struggling to control himself, he waited for a moment, for Error’s body to adjust. It was too early to thrust, no matter how much he simply wanted to let go at this point and fuck him.
“Do it!” Error gasped into his ear, as if he was reading his mind. “Please, it is well! Can’t hurting me, just…”
Lukas lifted his head – the scarf was still in place, keeping him safe from the Spy’s eyes.
He chuckled.
“If you beg so nicely.” His words couldn’t conceal his own lust, but for once, Lukas didn’t care if the others noticed. With a long, hard thrust he finally pushed in completely. A delicious pain rushed from his cock to his groin, from there through his whole body. Just the kind of good pain he could find himself to love in rare moments like this.
“Fuck, Lukas!”
Sydney’s tensed voice, when it normally would have caused him to nervously try to get away, added to the thrill this time.
Slowly, he pulled back, fully aware how he was gliding along Sydney’s dick, caught together in another man’s body. With every full thrust, he felt how Error widened more around them, until pulling out and pushing in became easier. Between them, Error squirmed and shivered, and the Spy’s hot, throbbing cock was pressed against Lukas’ firm stomach.
How did it happen that he was in control now, Lukas wondered, but he didn’t question it any further. Not now. Not when he wanted to let go, of the tension, his lust.
His aggression.
It was not easy to move, to thrust as it would have been him alone. Didn’t matter. The shuddering body pressed against him was amazing, as was everything about Error. Even his ass, that so easily could take in two cocks was amazing.
Lukas pushed harder, urged on by the the outcries of the mechanical Spy.
“Lukas…” Sydney’s voice.
Fucking, and hearing him say his name. He pressed his face against Error’s hot cheek, partly burying it in the soft hair, feeling the fabric of his own scarf. The Sniper’s head was close to his; he could hear him - feel him - pant.
“Lukas, look at me…”
No.
He hated to deny him one of his wishes, but no, not now, especially not now. But like driven by a force that wasn’t his to control, Lukas opened his eyes, looking over Error’s shoulder.
Only a quick, short glance at dark, dazed eyes. It was more than he wanted to see.
But it would probably be the only chance he would ever have to see Sydney like this – hot, flinching with lust, the forehead covered in sweat.
Calling his name.
And, feeling the Sniper’s dick sliding along his own, while they both thrust into a synchronized rhythm into Error… Lukas knew, he would never again have Sydney so close to him. Amazing, arousing, and bitterly cruel.
“Mig något att göra för att… jag älskar och jag hatar dig…” He wasn’t aware of speaking at all, especially not of using his native tongue. Increasing the speed of his movements, he drew another groan from the Sniper who was too lost to listen.
The fingertips of one of Error’s hands ran and clawed frantically over Lukas’ back; the Spy could feel how they would leave red marks. The robot’s free hand reached for the blonde’s head, feeling for his face, the jawline, the scar…
Lukas shoved the hand away, and pressed his lips on Error’s, cutting the shivering man’s groans short with a desperate and hungry kiss, finding comfort when the eager, accepting tongue met his. He squeezed his own fingers between their bodies, easily finding what he was searching for.
Firmly, despite being hindered by the lack of space, he stroked Error’s length, one finger rubbing over the wet, sensitive head, while his hips were still thrusting without slowing down his pace.
It was all Error could take.
Short fingernails left small, bloody marks on Lukas’ back, and in short intervals a warm, vicious liquid covered the blonde’s Spy’s stroking hand and both of their abdomen’s.
But Lukas missed the long, deep, almost agonized final moan.
At the very moment of Error’s release, he felt another rush of the weak statics emitting from the robot’s lower body.
The weak, tingling impulses ran through the sensitive nerves of his hard cock, shooting up to his spine and directly into his brain. They weren’t painful, but strong enough to blind him from the world for few seconds, and to make him forget about control.
The last, strong push was final, and as another faint impuls seemed to flow right between his and Sydney’s erection, he could only let go.
His balls were painfully hard. From the still lasting electric tingling the muscles in his groin contracted, forced him to thrust even deeper, every movement causing more of the unbearable need.
Then, it was over. Trying not to cry out, he bit into Error’s shoulder, leaving a second bite mark. He not only felt the abrupt pulsating of his own dick, but also Sydney’s as well. With a loud, almost feral last growl, the Sniper joined him.
Error’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and embraced by him, Lukas listened to the slowly calming down breaths from the Sniper.
His knees were shaking and his whole body, now that the tension was gone, gradually went limp. Soon he would have to pull out, to give up the warmth and the closeness. He would return to his nervous, distant self, probably never being able to look straightly at Sydney or Error for the rest of his life. Not after this. Not now, he didn’t want to regret what happened now. Still panting, he accepted Error’s kiss, not sure to whom the hand lazily running through his hair belonged.
***
The Spies walked away from the headquarters together in silence after Sydney had been called by Jean, who insisted that the matter at hand couldn’t wait.
Most of Sydney’s sweet, cheerful words went unheard by Lukas while the young Spy had quickly pulled up his pants and put on his mask. When Sydney had given him a last hearty hug – the same he gave Error right afterwards – the blonde had already hidden his face behind the layers of his scarf.
They had left once Error was done with adjusting his hair and clothes, making every evidence of the last hour disappear, except for a persisting blush. Following Sydney’s order – or rather suggestion – Lukas had agreed to see Error off in the Sniper’s place, accompanying him until they reached the limits of the grounds of the base.
“Uh… from here… you know the way, right, I guess?”
He was what the appropriate gesture to say goodbye would be to a man he had just fucked together with his boss. Although he had hardly known him before.
So Lukas simply stared into the distance, roughly into the direction where he assumed Error’s base to be.
“Lukas…” The other Spy hesitated a moment, then he put a hand on Lukas’ shoulder.
“I understand the Sweden, and… I’m sorry, I hurting you, I don’t to want to.”
The worried voice surprised him as much as the message.
“What are you talking about?” For the first time since they had broken the last kiss between them, after he had come into this man, Lukas raised his head and looked at him in confusion.
“You do no remembering? While we…earlier…”
So, Error was even human enough that the last series of events embarrassed him as well, Lukas realized with an odd sense satisfaction when the other Spy searched for words with a blushed face. Inwardly, he froze when he heard the rest of Error’s explanation.
“You saying ‘for doing this to me, I hate and I love you.’... I’m being sorry, Lukas. Don’t do wanting you be sad, wanting be your…”
“Forget about it,” the Spy hissed sharply.
“Don’t ever mention that again, to me or anyone! You are a robot, delete it! I’m sorry, I…” Immediately, he regretted his harsh words. He was unfair, the mess he was… all this wasn’t Error’s fault. The other Spy didn’t even see a rival in him, while his own behavior towards Error was disgraceful and shabby.
“I’m sorry, Error, I didn’t mean to… I just don’t want to talk about it, please…”
“Talk about what?” Error asked. At the friendly, mildly curious voice, Lukas raised his eyebrows.
“What do you… you really deleted it?” Suddenly, he began to understand. Did this mean… “You can delete it, just like that, because I say so?” Error nodded.
“I only accepting command from few people. Two is you and Sydney. I liking and trust.”
The shy Spy blushed, feeling more guilty than before, for his hostile jealousy. He had not only made up his mind to like Error – it was simply not possible to not like somebody with such a caring, gentle nature, who gave affection so openly and unconditionally. But even fully aware of this, he couldn’t completely get rid of this damned, nagging jealousy.
“I envy you…” he sighed. His body was still exhausted and oddly satisfied. But this would fade soon, and the old desire would rekindle, maybe even stronger than before. As for his mind… even when his body forgot, from now on his memory would always remind him how it felt to have Sydney so close to him, if only for a short time… and how he had to share.
“If I ask you to delete what happened today, would you do that? Forever?”
He avoided the questioning look by staring down, at the dirt between his feet. The sudden hint of sadness in Error’s eyes hurt.
“Yes. Temporarily and forever. You want?”
Lukas nodded, now feeling sick. He was betraying two friends that trusted him.
“Delete everything that happened since you woke up in our base. Temporarily,” he quickly added when he saw how the features in the other man’s face altered.
The command was promptly executed.
The silent, relaxed happiness disappeared, along with the hints of trust and friendship. Lukas hadn’t even noticed them to be there until they were gone. He began to doubt if he really had gained anything from his order. If the price wasn’t too high for the already vanishing illusion of making today undone by having the memory only for himself. And Sydney…
However, it probably was for the better, and what was done, was done.
But what now?
“Thank you for bring me here, Lukas,” Error finally said in his usual polite, amiable and soft manner. “Tell Sydney I sorry to not seeing him, but have to going home.”](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mb4ogxeQgt1rvxzbro1_500.jpg)
Story by LigeiaMaloy // Picture by BlastedKing // Error by ds404 // Lukas/ShySpy, Sydney/SassySniper by BlastedKing
____________________________
Unscheduled
;adaption new input, reaction configuration
system temperature regulation constant=contact_1
;repeat
system temperature regulation constant=contact_2
;adjustment alert function
;unknown contact solved 1
;contact_1 defined
contact_1=Sniper_Sydney
;contact_2 defined
contact_2=Spy_Lukas
;expected error rate 0
;test run primary functions complete 1
;damage reports 0
;memory data storage update complete 1
;reported data loss 0
;reported file corruption 0
Rewrite process complete 1
Begin switchover
control unit=artificial_ego_“Error”
switchover complete 1
The last, finalizing processes of the automatic reboot lasted only nanoseconds; only a very keen eye would have been able to perceive the bright flashes of light, and only if said eye would have had a chance to take a glimpse into the head of the delicate machine. This was the finalization of a complete scanning sequence. It began right after the shutdown, ending with Error opening his eyes. The robot himself wasn’t aware of the uncountable, rapid exchanges and aligning of information in his system until the last, confirming lines handed his body back to him.
Post reblogged from OVERDOSED DELUSIONS with 26 notes
Matter of Time
YO! This is a gift to Bk, inspired by her latest Scoutcest picture. -Kay
On DA as well http://reposhillo.deviantart.com/#/d5a1emx
————————————————————————————————————-
Heavy panting echoed through the small room, accompanied by small whimpers, sharp hisses, and the occasional chuckle. Slowly Tyler regained his lost sense of time, but only for a brief point before Mike reclaimed his lips anew. His thoughts jumbled, trying to figure out exactly how this came to be. With him. Trapped between two psychotic, murderous men.
It all seemed to happen so fast. He recalled leaving the tailorshop trying to break in a new outfit Jean had made for him. It was late and he was making his way to his own room for some sleep. However when he opened his door and stepped inside, his insides twisted and he felt…uneasy, and he soon found out why. They seemed to appear just out of the shadows. A hand closed over his mouth firmly, two seized his arms, and another trailed along his hip before he was pulled to the ground.
Post reblogged from OVERDOSED DELUSIONS with 19 notes
A Show of Force (Mike/Tyler) Complete
Don’t judge me. I’ve wanted to write this since Matter of Time fic. Only I wanted this one to be a secret so I could surprise BK.
Pair:Mike/Tyler NSFW Only if you squint and look at it upside down could you glimpse and see Gabe/Tyler. Edit: I’ve decided to mash all parts together to make a whole, as I did with Matter of Time.
Sequel to this http://reposhillo.tumblr.com/post/28839846905/matter-of-time
———————————————————————————————————-Tyler panted, finding the day’s battle to be overwhelmingly exhausting. He had been called in to help the Red team with their struggle for the intel today. He quickly ran inside an abandoned building, running down a hall before sliding along the wall to sit down for a moment. He had cuts and bruises marring his body and his sailor uniform was ripped here and there. Jean would have a bitch fit over that. Closing his eyes he slid a hand down his thigh and traced a scar that thankfully Jean hadn’t seen. He remembered how a certain night several weeks ago, two certain psycho’s had escaped from their cell, and gave him a little surprise visit.
Photoset with 36 notes
((Tumblr won’t show the real cover so watch it here ^^ - This is the last Chapter…and it’s pretty long. Tanks to everyone who read this story ♥ ))
Story by Ligeiamaloy // CoverArt and CBS Twins by BlastedKing//
[[Part 1]] // [[Part 2]] // [[Part 3]] // [[Part 4]] // [[Part 5]] // [[Part 6]] / [[Part 7]]
_____________________________________
“Mike! MIKE!” He threw himself around, his legs too shaky to stand up, and half crawled, half crouched towards the cellar door. “MIKE!”
Photo with 68 notes
![Story by Ligeiamaloy // CoverArt and CBS Twins by BlastedKing//
[[Part 1]] // [[Part 2]] // [[Part 3]] // [[Part 4]] // [[Part 5]] // [[Part6]]
_________________________
December 1958
“You’ll hate me like him, right? One day, you’ll hate me, too, won’t you? Gabe?” Carefully, Mike reached for his brother’s face, but quickly withdrew the moment Gabe hit at him. Empty looking, wide opened eyes stared at him. Mike opened his mouth and closed it again, not really sure what he should say. With the back of his hand he wiped his lips. Blood.[[MORE]] Exhausted but satisfied he had fallen asleep maybe one or two hours ago, when a punch in his face had made him sit up with a start. He had hissed at his twin, even given him a push, but Gabe had only opened his eyes. Not a word, no reaction. It was frightening. Reluctantly, Mike got up and sat down on the edge of Gabe’s bed, watching his brother anxiously. It was cold, probably the coldest winter they had ever experienced. Another year living in the dim light of an old, flickering light-bulb had passed, and there were only two ways to distinguish the different seasons – by the clothes of their parents and how cold it was. These days, it had been colder than he could remember. When he touched the wall under the window it felt smooth beneath his hand. With every year it grew more and more moist in their home, and now the surface of the wall was beginning to freeze over.
They usually wrapped both blankets around them when they huddled together; one alone was too thin. Now this meant Gabe had both covers while Mike had nothing to keep himself warm. He was still naked from earlier this night; for a moment he considered putting on his clothes. A quick glance around, and he found them lying halfway between the beds and the stairway. How on earth had that happened? Only faintly he remembered how they had argued again. Not really argued, as he had to admit. He had attacked Gabe, his twin had hit back… or had it been the other way around? Either way, most of all, it worried Mike that he couldn’t clearly remember if Gabe had really provoked him. Or if he, Mike, had forced him. He hoped not. After all, his twin had hugged him when he had been done, and kissed him. So everything was right, wasn’t it? Why was it so annoying? Was Gabe awake or not? “Had a bad dream? Wanna cry? Or fight? You need another round? Dammit, if you are awake, say something!” It was chilly and Mike already began to shiver. Maybe clothes would help, but he didn’t feel like walking over the cold stone floor at all. Anyway, he didn’t want to bother with dressing or anything right now. He wanted to crawl back under the covers and feel the warmth of his twin.
It wasn’t the first time Gabe had a nightmare. Mike himself had them often enough, too, so both of them were used to them after all these years, even if their terrifying dreams were made of different horrors. He could easily assume that Gabe’s nightmares were worse than his own. However, this was different. The way Gabe stared at him, how his lips moved without speaking – it scared him. He hated to be scared. Being forced yet again to only sit by, watch and wait he hated even more. Unsure what to do, he rubbed his arms. He hadn’t been wearing bandages for weeks now – the last time their mother had brought clean ones had been three months ago. The newer injuries were healing. And itching. He scratched until he was bleeding from several tiny wounds; the warmth of his own blood felt comforting. “Idiot, wake up already and warm me!” Snarling at his brother was another way of comforting himself, even if it didn’t make a difference. Again, as so often before since last December, he wondered if what he was doing with Gabe was good or not. Or rather to him? Their parents more or less knew about it; their secret had been impossible to hide once they had seen new bruises and bite marks.
Not to forget the lecture they had received from their mother after the first time. About forbidden, nasty and filthy sins, how it was already wrong that they shared one bed. Mike could only laugh when he thought about the sight of his mother sitting on the stairs, too drunk to stand steadily for long. Talking and talking without even looking at them.
Forbidden or not, painful or not, it was good. It was the only way for him to be the closest to Gabe, not being shut out anymore since their father had started forcing the younger twin. As for Gabe – he wanted it, too. Right? He attacked him, provoked him and didn’t stop until Mike gave in. Which didn’t usually take very long. It didn’t happen very often anyway and usually only after his brother returned from upstairs. When it had been extremely bad. Then it was up to Mike to make him forget for a while. Gabe needed this, didn’t he? Mike sighed and blew into his hands, rubbing them, hoping to warm them up a bit. While he had his panting brother under his own body, thrusting into him, biting and kissing him, being bitten and kissed in return, he was absolutely sure it was what both of them wanted.
Later, whenever Gabe started to dream again, or when Mike saw his blank, spiritless face when he had to go with their father, there was doubt. But as long as his brother wanted him, too, tempted him, everything was alright….wasn’t it?
He wished their parents were dead. Everything would be much easier. Nights like these wouldn’t happen. Yet he sometimes wondered – would Gabe really want to be touched or kissed by him if it weren’t for his wish to forget the disgusting, sweating hands and lips and body of their father on him? In him? Couldn’t they just die? He tried to think about the outside world, imagining how it would feel to walk freely away while looking at the sky. On some days, it was easy – how he suddenly was quick and strong enough to fight their father down, strangling him with this damned chain… freeing himself and Gabe, running upstairs, pushing their mother down, not even caring if she died instantly after breaking her neck… On other days, or nights like this, it felt so unlikely, so impossible. Nothing to hope for, nothing would ever change. Their father would torture Gabe as long as they were alive while all he could do was wait. Before he continued his father’s work. But Gabe had told him that it was okay, that he didn’t want that man anymore. He had never told Mike to stop…
The chain of his thoughts repeated itself.
“Filthy, worthless creature. It is God’s will.”
Startled at the sudden noise and the weird words, Mike raised his head. Gabe’s gaze hadn’t changed. “He’s a child, Charles. Shut up, he’s a whore, like you. Not worth the love of God or any living being. You hear me, bastard?”
Confused, Mike looked at him. At first, it didn’t make any sense to him. Random words, said with Gabe’s monotonous voice, like they didn’t mean anything. No fear, no hatred, no affection. “Gabe, are you awake?” he asked cautiously, not really expecting an answer. “Don’t leave me. You promised. Obey, bastard child, hold still. You and your brother, worthless…”
Finally, Mike began to understand. Slowly, he stood up, and sat down on his own bed. He shook his brother by his shoulder, but Gabe didn’t react. “Please, wake up, Gabe. It’s a nightmare, he’s not here!” Still, nothing. “GABE! HEY! DON’T IGNORE ME!” He shook him some more, even boxed lightly on his chest – in vain. For a while, Gabe simply spoke on, repeating their father’s words, many of them not new to Mike. Those he hadn’t known and that told him more about Gabe’s time upstairs terrified him. He was still left out, the gap was growing and he didn’t know how else he could stop it, if violating his own brother would be enough to keep him close. The voice had changed, from toneless to a softer, bitter tone, a strong contrast to the hard, merciless words in between. “I need him. Stop. Stop! Worthless scum! That’s all you’ll ever be good for! Grateful, for having a purpose! Stop… Mike…” The older twin stiffened, sharply breathing in when he heard his own name. Together with the words of their father. So his fears had been right… “Let me go, back to him, back to Mike… brother… need my brother…” For minutes that felt endless, Gabe repeated the words over and over again, their father and occasionally their mother talking through him. And, in the end, Gabe himself, begging to be left alone and be returned to his twin. Mike smiled sadly at him, finally daring to touch his brother’s head. A probably worthless gesture as Gabe still didn’t seem to realize where he was and that his twin was with him. He was stuck in his dream, and Mike was forced to wait and watch. Like always. About half an hour later, the younger twin’s voice slowly faded more with each word. He closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep. “Need you too, Gabe.” This was good, wasn’t it? He wasn’t blamed, he was needed, so everything was fine. Suddenly remembering that he was still unclothed, Mike realized how cold he was. Quickly, he climbed behind his brother, snuggled against his back. “Mike? You’re cold… why?” a drowsy voice asked. “It’s winter, sleep now.”
In the morning, Mike would feel warm again, and the future seemed less bleak. Sooner or later he would kill them, their father first. He would make him suffer for everything he had done to him and Gabe. Every little bit of pain that man had caused should come back to him. Mike would take his time, revenging them both. After that, they would go away. With a smile on his face, his eyes still closed, he would plan the end of this kind of life like in a dream. A bit later, Gabe would turn around, and see the new, already healing gush on Mike’s upper lift. He would ask how that had happened, because it hadn’t been there the night before. As Gabe would neither remember his dream nor the words he had said or how he had hit his brother, Mike would lie to him.
***
21st of February, 1959
Caroline nipped slowly on her glass. Half an hour ago, she had opened a bottle of wine, the last one. It was already half past eight in the evening; the shops had closed many hours before. Another dull weekend lay before her, with nothing else to do than sitting on the couch, watching TV and trying her best to ignore what was happening an arm-length to her left. Over the rim of the almost empty glass, her eyes stared at the flickering screen. During the last year, the TV had broken down several times, but Charles refused to call for a repairman. Too expensive, and, as he never missed to point out, the house wasn’t in the condition to invite other people in. Instead, he had repaired the appliance by himself. It worked fine, most of the times, if one chose to ignore the constant flicker. She had asked him why he didn’t buy a new television set a while ago, theirs was very old anyway. From the few occasions when she left the house she had learned that most of the neighbors had already bought a color TV. She would have liked that. A bit more color in her life, and since she spent most of her time watching all kinds of shows, she was sure it would improve her days immensely. First, he had slapped her, then laughed. The old TV was good enough for her, she shouldn’t complain that much. What did they care, and if everyone from the neighborhood thought it would be a good idea to buy ten color TVs, it wasn’t his problem.
That had been last December. She hadn’t known then that her husband had lost his job. He had left the house every morning and returned every evening, like he had done all the years before, since she had known him. It had taken her some time to figure out what was wrong. After Christmas, he simply had stayed at home. When she had asked if he was still on vacation, he had hit her. After the first week in January, he had casually told her that he had had to quit his job and would stay at home now. The compensation was good, they had enough savings and it wouldn’t be too long anyway before he would receive his pension. That had been all about it and she hadn’t asked him again.
Since then, he spent his whole days at home and seldom left, except for the church meetings. On those few days he would shower and dress like he used to do, comb his hair and shave. The perfect image of a man.
She snorted at the thought. Perfect indeed. Her perfect days were ruined. Not much had changed though. She still spent most of her time on the couch after she had finished her housework. Or at least those parts that couldn’t be delayed any longer. For a moment she wondered if it was already time to wash the curtains again. And the remains of today’s breakfast still stood on the table. She decided those things could wait a bit. She would have to clean the kitchen first anyway, but certainly not this evening or tomorrow, on Sunday. Refilling her glass, she told herself to stop once the bottle was half empty. She had forgotten to go to the grocery store yesterday and in the early morning hours of Saturday she had still been asleep. Charles had bought enough food for the next week, but he hadn’t thought of adding more wine to the list. He didn’t talk her out of her little habit, but he didn’t help her either. However, as long as he left her alone with his violent outbursts and insults she was fine.
She even had gotten used to her son being upstairs with them. After the first glass of wine it was surprisingly easy to ignore the noises coming from the other end of the sofa. It had been very hard at first to hear Gabriel scream and cry, and her husband’s laughing and groaning. But since he was with them almost every day now after Charles’ early retirement, it had become easier. She avoided looking at them for too long anyway, therefore she was alright.
The telephone rang and she put her drink down. Right, Saturday evening, how could she forget. She switched off the TV and gave Charles a nod. If he hadn’t put his hand over Gabriel’s mouth to prevent him from making any noise, she would have thought he hadn’t even noticed her standing up. She went over to the small table next to the television set, shoved a few dried fir branches – a reminder of Christmas – aside and picked up the phone.
“Hello mom. Yes, I’m fine. Thanks.” Slowly, she walked to the kitchen door and leaned against the inner frame. She hadn’t drunk much today and felt a bit dizzy; her hands were trembling slightly. At least her voice wasn’t shaky today, so she could speak quite easily with her mother today without causing her any worries.
“Yes, Charles is fine, too. I shall tell you he said ‘hello’. What… yes, of course I will. He’s just a bit busy now.” While speaking of her husband, she turned around. Busy indeed. With her son on his lap, amusing himself with the scrawny boy for how long now… one hour? Two? Long enough to exhaust him enough so he didn’t even cry anymore. But she could hardly tell her mother that. After all, this was Charles, the son-in-law of her dreams. Now she was really longing for another glass. Mother had sent a bottle of Scotch for Charles’ birthday, she remembered and wondered how much was still left of it. “What did you say? Oh…” she said when the elderly woman repeated her question. Of course not forgetting to add that Caroline shouldn’t always have her head in the clouds.
“Mom, I know he’s wonderful. That’s why I married him. No, please, not that again.” Since when was Gabriel looking at her? He hadn’t looked at her for… she couldn’t remember. Usually, the boy gazed into space while being raped by the husband of the year, she thought sarcastically, feeling both jealous and guilty. Three men in this house, and nobody ever looked at her. Being despised by Charles was one thing, but being rejected by her own sons had made her bitter.
“Mom, I’ve told you, it’s not my fault that I didn’t become pregnant again, it’s just… no, sorry, but… yes, yes I know that a good wife should… Are you listening? I wanted to have another child, but…” Why did she try anyway? Charles was the good, great, faithful husband, and in the eyes of her mother, Caroline would always fail as the ideal wife for such a man. Another child indeed. How, if he hadn’t touched her for more than 15 years? How when he rather slept with her son? One of two sons. Healthy, beautiful twins. She wished she could simply shout the truth through the telephone cord and make her mother’s ears fall off. Stifling a giggle, she continued listening to all the well-meant advices she had heard hundreds and hundreds of times before.
Gabriel was still staring at her. Somewhere in her heart, something broke to her surprise. She had been sure there hadn’t been anything left to be broken. Charles had gained a lot of weight during the last two years and his hand looked fat and giant as it covered the lower half of the youth’s face. He was so thin… The boys had grown a lot lately and were now several inches taller than her, but they were too skinny. She tried to remember when it had been the last time she had brought them something to eat. Yesterday? Or the day before yesterday? She would definitely have to make them something tomorrow. If only Gabriel would close his eyes. So bright and blue. And desperate.
“Yes, Mom, I understand. Of course we will… yes, it was a shame that I didn’t feel well on Christmas, it would have been lovely to visit you… yes…” She wished she could turn away, but she couldn’t free from the intense gaze. ‘Help me.’ Gabriel hadn’t talked to her for years; he had even stopped to acknowledge her presence at all. Always huddling against his twin. No, they didn’t need her. But she could clearly understand him now. A silent, yet deafening plea for help that even drowned the voice of her mother in her head. It was just unfair. What did he expect her to do? What did her mother expect her to do? She hadn’t asked for this to happen. Charles should be with her, instead of grunting in delight when the boy squirmed on him in pain. What could she do? All she wanted was to end this unnerving telephone call and return to her bottle, emptying it before she got a headache. Maybe she could walk to the gas station tomorrow and buy a small supply that would help her to survive this weekend. Slowly, she shook her head as a reply, unaware that she did so. Something in the boy’s eyes changed, and unwillingly, she took a step back, refusing to recognize the feeling as pure hate and disgust. Gabriel, her little angel, he wouldn’t hate her, it was impossible. She was his mother. Everything could have been so beautiful, a beautiful little family.
“I will talk to him about your birthday. Maybe he can get a few days off, it would be lovely to spend some time at… yes, of course, no, Mom, this isn’t an excuse, we will visit soon, I promise…” Finally, her mother was satisfied. After a few more minutes and exchanges of kind, loving but empty phrases, Caroline put down the receiver. Exhausted. She felt so exhausted. While she lifted the glass from the table and gulped down its contents in one go, the last few groans coming from her husband told her that he had finished, too. The content smile on his face was sickening. Shoving the boy aside, Charles stood up and stretched, yawning. Caroline wasn’t sure if her son was unconscious or just too worn out. Without anyone holding him, he simply fell onto the carpet and lay there, not moving at all
“Take care of the waste, woman, I’ll take a shower and go to bed,” he lazily asked her, missing the usual sharp tone when he spoke to her.
With a sigh, she walked over to the boy and carefully shook him. From the expression of his face she still couldn’t tell if he had fainted or not. The eyes were back to their usual, empty stare, his features blank. The cheeks were still a bit wet from his earlier crying, but no new tears were running from his eyes. “Gabriel, my angel…” she hummed softly.
“Caroline? Don’t sing him a lullaby, bring him downstairs before he gets used to the comfort!” This was more like Charles’ usual way with her. She hesitated.
“What is it, woman?” Instead of leaving for the bathroom, he had turned around, looking displeased. “Can’t you handle this thing alone? I doubt the bastard would hurt you. Look at this wimp!” In an almost playfully manner, he kicked against the boy’s hip. Caroline didn’t dare to lift her head and look at her husband. “It’s not him… the other…” She had never forgotten how the second twin had attacked and almost killed her. Yes, she was sure, he would have killed her if Charles hadn’t returned in time. Michael was only waiting for her to come close enough. “It’s in his eyes… like an animal. A clever, mean animal. I know it, Charles, whenever I look into his eyes I can see how he plans to kill me, to tear me apart… I won’t go close to him, even if you hit me. At least you won’t kill me.” Smiling softly, she petted her other son’s soft hair. It needed to be cut again. Gabriel was a good child, he never attacked her. Whatever she had believed to see in his face earlier, it had been her imagination. Such a sweet, pretty child.
“Well, Caroline… I don’t like it if you don’t listen to what I say, but in this case…” her husband began and paused. A moment later, he nodded firmly. He bowed down and seized the boy by his hair, pulling him up. “Gabriel, I know what the two of you are doing. Sinners! It’s time to stop this nonsense; I have tolerated your immoral behavior for too long already.” A finger of his free hand poked ungently against a bruise on the youth’s collar bone – a mark made by his twin’s teeth. Another purple bruise on his throat hadn’t been added by his father either. “I will put a stop to this twin-shenanigans once and for all. After all,” he added with a wide, smug grin, “how am I expected to purify your filthy body when the other bastard soils you again? You should thank me, maybe there’s hope for you. Although I doubt it.” He let go of him and the boy fell to the ground once more. “Caroline! Make sure that he isn’t able to throw a tantrum. I don’t want him to wake the whole neighborhood. Find a place to tie him to and shut him up for the night. His new place is here.”
For the first time since his father had finished abusing his young body this evening, Gabe showed a reaction. Weakly, he raised his head and tried to push himself up into a sitting position. “No… Mike…” A fist hit his temple and he fell into darkness.
The last thing he saw through his half-closed eyes were the legs of his parents.
“What should I do with Michael?” Disgustingly soft voice.
“Who cares? Feed him or not, it’s your son. If you don’t, the problem solves itself sooner or later.” The voice of the same beast that was still burning inside of him. They shouldn’t talk. Should bring him downstairs. To Mike. No, they wanted to make him die? They couldn’t! He needed to feel him, soon, or he would… The thoughts whirled through Gabe’s head and stopped the moment his head touched the carpet.
*
Cold. Wet. Gabe shivered, turned around, his hands searching for his brother. Something hard. There was water. Why? Slowly, he opened his eyes. Pale pink. Water poured over his chest, hands on his skin. Drowning! Not even fully conscious yet, he panicked, began to kick and thrash around himself. His head hit hard against the bathtub. Dizzy again. His breathing became faster, too fast, the air didn’t fill his lungs. He gasped, croaking his brother’s name.“Charles! Help!” Her! Gabe felt sick. She had touched him; he didn’t want to be touched by her! Two strong hands, very familiar, hated hands, grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him under lukewarm water. Pulled him up again. Gabe coughed. His legs hurt from hitting the hard surface of the tub, his head hurt, his whole body. And now his throat.“Is there any reason why washing him takes so long? Don’t waste too much water on him, I’ll use him later anyway.” Washing. He could wash himself. Downstairs. Without her help. The pain in his head worsened. Blackness invaded his mind, streaming into his whole body, filling him. Mike, he needed Mike. To make it go away. Mike could make it go away, could erase the pain by hurting him the way the beast did. Cover it up. But he wouldn’t see his twin. He would be used again. Again. Again. This was day three. Or four? Day or night? His wrists burnt. Wet rope scraped over the skin. The handcuffs – gone, replaced. After he had been forced to go down on his knees. For one moment, he had fought back, when he had refused to open his mouth, when he had raised his hands to shield himself. And he had hit him. Accidentally, but right into his groin. Gabe had been beaten worse before. To be punched was better than having the man inside. Rope was less hard than metal cuffs. They hurt only him. Hurting the beast had been so good. Better than hurting Mike. Being hurt by Mike was the best.Gabe didn’t react when spoken to, he didn’t hear them. Not his mother timidly begging him to stand up. Not his father’s stern order. In the end, the man dragged him out of the tub. The mother dried him off with a towel. Without thinking, he bowed his head a bit so she could dry his hair. He still hadn’t realized he was taller than her. “That’s enough, woman, go and make some coffee.”She left the room, and they followed him. Gabe was pushed through the corridor by his father behind him. Since the first time six years ago, the youth had always turned into a nine years old boy the moment he left the basement. So it wasn’t a tall, lanky young man, but a child that his mother had tied to the radiator for the night a few evenings before. A small, powerless, apathetic child.As long as they wouldn’t allow him to return to his brother, he wasn’t able to become himself again. Mike had to help him, to bring him back. Mike would allow him to cut him and he would be able to see blood running over the scarred skin. Living humans bled, and if Mike was alive, Gabe was alive, too. If Mike hurt him, it was what he, fifteen years old Gabe, wanted. But as Mike couldn’t do any of all these things, their father buried a boy under his heavy, sweaty body, as he had done countless times before. Sometimes, Gabe cried, sometimes he screamed. The last few days he had been silent. The pain, the feeling of being torn apart hadn’t disappeared. He still couldn’t really grasp it, and it was too strong for his mind to simply shut down. They didn’t let him go back. He couldn’t replace his father with Mike. His brother was his only link to his real self, to his sanity. Since yesterday, this last link had disappeared when Mike had stopped screaming Gabe’s name. Since yesterday, Gabe had lost himself somewhere in the darkness of his mind. He still felt his father’s weight on him, how the man forced his way into the boy’s body, but Gabe didn’t feel like it was happening to him. Bit by bit, he was vanishing. Soon, he would be gone, and all that would be left for him to feel was that man hurting him. He wanted to scream, but couldn’t find the strength anymore. Waiting. Enduring.If hours or minutes had passed didn’t matter. Finally, his father had enough. The weight was withdrawn from his back and his body was almost too numb to feel the burning pain the man had left in him. He didn’t notice how his mother came over and turned him on his back. It was easier to breathe, facing the ceiling instead of being pressed into the cushions, yes. Gabe would rather suffocate than having her hands on him. She said something he didn’t hear and didn’t care about. She did something to his wrists. Probably wiping the blood away. They were sore but had stopped hurting, or he had stopped realizing that they were hurting, he didn’t know. It didn’t matter. He didn’t react or watch her as she cleaned the wounds, plucking several little fibers to stop the already beginning infection. She should go away. It was Mike’s job to tend to their wounds. First, they would hurt each other. Then heal. So easy. Something smelled weird. He knew the smell - it came from one of the bottles. His mother drank while she looked after him. And talked more. Slowly, he turned his head and stared at her. One more time. Only this once, then he would never try again. He didn’t want to, but he had to.“Downstairs… Mike…” He closed his eyes. She hadn’t even looked at him while she shook her head. The two words, the first two words spoken while not being alone with his brother, after so many years, had exhausted him. Worthless whore. What was she good for? Nothing. She just looked and shook her head. Always. What was he good for? For being used by his father, to be thrown away afterwards? Not worth to be loved, that was what he said since Gabe could remember. Mother had said she loved them, she had said that man loved them. She had never helped them, never helped him. Gabe didn’t understand. He was a tired boy, wanted to sleep, to be with his brother. But he would have to stay here and soon, he would be tied up again, for hours, until his back and limbs were stiff. They would use tape or a rag to prevent him from screaming. He couldn’t scream, not anymore.“Dammit!” the harsh voice came from across the room, followed by a meek and worried “Darling, what happened?”Hurriedly, her steps rushed over the carped. He lifted his eyelids and saw their legs, how they stood next to each other. “Just a paper-cut, nothing to worry about.” Gabe looked up a bit and saw her how she held that man’s hand, carefully inspecting it. Hate. He hated them. How they stood there, like nothing had ever happened, like nothing had ever been said. Like all her promises had never been made and never been broken. Hated her. Hated him. And even Mike wasn’t here. He had promised to kill them, and to go away. But nothing had happened. All that was left for him to do was lying here, waiting until his father ordered him to open his legs and hold still. He shivered. Finally, his mind drifted out of conscious. If he could sleep or faint, he wouldn’t have to think. His muscles already relaxed and his right arm fell down by his side. His mother was till busy tending to his father. As long as she did, they would leave him alone. Maybe he was lucky and would never wake up again. That wouldn’t happen, Gabe knew it. The man had beaten him worse before. And although today had been bad, even that had been far worse before. With only one difference… after the worst night he could remember he had returned to the basement. And finally made Mike sleep with him. Mike… he longed to rip his brother’s skin open so bad, to feel the warm blood under his fingertips… hand… Suddenly wide awake, he raised his hands. The rope was gone. He hadn’t even realized she had removed it. She was gone, too. Not far away, but she didn’t pay attention on him. Neither did his father…“Have you looked after the other bastard lately? Is he dead? I don’t want a rotting corpse in my home.” What was he talking about? Mike wasn’t dead. Gabe would have known. Did they want to kill Mike? Who should help him if they did? Something in him clicked. The two figures standing at the other end of the room slowly dissolved into a blurry, gray mist. The words formed by the voices didn’t make sense. Only one little thing was clear in his vision – a tiny, red drop of blood, running down his father’s hand. So bright. Slowly and unnoticed, he sat up. Blood, from the same hand that had tortured them for years, that had pressed him down, or mockingly slapped his butt. That had been placed over his mouth when his screams were too loud. Despicable, evil hand. But it could bleed. Gabe stood up, his legs weak and his knees shaking. He wanted to see more. Wanted to see the hands been covered crimson with their own blood. Being drowned, being punched, being whipped, the loss of his first two baby teeth… How gently the trembling hands of his mother held the horrible hand.“What do you think you are doing? Why is he free, you silly goose?” the man half laughed, half snapped at her. Step by step, slowly, Gabe staggered forward, grabbing an almost empty whiskey bottle as he passed by the table.“Oh my god, Gabriel!” she shrieked and he couldn’t help grinning. ‘What is it, mother?’ Gabe’s lips formed without making a sound. The man only laughed. “Stupid bastard. You really think you can attack me? Come at me, if you dare, worthless monstrosity!” There was no fear in the faces of either man. Gabe only saw his father’s mouth moving, trying to remember how he had looked so many years before, when blood was dripping from his nose. What was the sound of a breaking nose? He wanted to know. Something was different. When had he grown? The floor seemed so far away, it made his head dizzy. What if he wasn’t a little boy anymore, what would he do if he wasn’t? With a loud, grotesque outcry he jumped at his father, angry and cheerful alike. The man’s laughter stopped abruptly; the sudden, unexpected attack took him by surprise. He tumbled backwards when the bottle hit his head, but didn’t go down. “Little bastard, I should have killed you…” Gabe didn’t listen. “I hate you!” His voice was too shrill, more the voice of a child. “I hate you! Die!” He didn’t notice his mother’s screams when she saw blood streaming from a gash on her husband’s temple. “Die! You’ll wish you’d die once I’m done with you!” The youth wasn’t a match for his father’s strength. Still not fully grown, undernourished and exhausted from the strain of abuse, Gabe was easily thrown to the floor when the adult tackled him. Fists already slammed against his face, but he didn’t let go of the bottle. He knew his own, now he wanted his father’s blood. This time, he hit him hard enough to shatter the bottle. A shard of glass stuck into the man’s cheek, the rest of the liquid sprayed into his eyes. With an angry growl, he backed off. Gabe seized the opportunity and crawled away from him before his father could get a hold of him again. But the raging man didn’t hesitate for long and was over the youth once more, ready to strike out again. In defense, Gabe raised his hand, just when his father bent down, and the sharp, pointy edges of the bottle cut deep into the skin of the man’s throat. Gabe didn’t realize his luck, he only saw the stream of blood and heard the gargling noises coming from his father’s mouth. However, what fascinated him the most was the agony in the distorted face. He had never seen that before, certainly not in the face of his father. Nobody had ever told him, but he knew he was seeing the face of a dying man. The one who always had sneered at them, and bathed in delight whenever he had hurt him. Grunted and groaned in his ear when he had raped him.Anxiously, Gabe got back on his feet. This was going too fast. He hadn’t even really noticed how it happened. It was the bottle that killed him, not Gabe himself. His father was already on his knees, pressing his hands against the open throat. Gabe saw how heavily he was panting, and with each breath, more blood spurted from his mouth and through his nose.“You devil, you think you win? No!” His laughter changed into a cough. Gabe stared at him, watching the bright red stream dropping from his father’s chin. “God will not allow you to forget me. Worthless bastard child. The face of your brother will always remind you of your worthless existence.” Half of the words were drowned by a growling, splattering gargle, but Gabe understood them. He understood them very clearly, more than he wanted to. “You and Michael, you will never forget me. I controlled you, I tied you up, I made you obey. I fucked your ass, whore! Fuck him as much as you want, you’ll never forget how my dick…” Appalled and horrified Gabe stared at his dying father. “NO!” His hands covered his ears. He didn’t want to hear him anymore. The man still laughed. Hardly audible, his face an ugly, blood-smeared grimace, but Gabe saw and still heard him cackle. “In your dreams, Gabriel, I return… dreams…” From some place far away, a woman’s hysterical screams ripped through the air. “NO!” Gabe yelled again, and leaped at the collapsing man, bringing him finally to fall. “Dreams… Gabriel, in your dreams…”Gabe ended the dying man’s haunting curse. Howling and giggling in turns, he smashed his fist against the face, heard how the narrow bridge of the nose broke. A familiar, grinding sound he had never forgotten in all these years came from the open mouth when a tooth cracked. He didn’t stop. With all the fear and terror he had been forced to feel for 15 years put in his blows, he continued punching. The skull cracked under the impact and while the bloodstream already died away and dried, Gabe broke his father’s jaw. The knuckles of his hands already felt sore and it wasn’t only his father’s blood that dripped from them. He cried. It was over, but he didn’t want it to be over. The force of his punches became weaker, and regret filled him. No matter how much he refused the truth – whatever he was doing now wouldn’t be felt by this man. Limp and lifeless. Like the cat. It was too late, he would never be able to make him pay. Sobbingly, he wiped the tears away, leaving a crimson smear of blood on his face. With his father lying still and quiet underneath him, and his own angry shouts disappeared, he finally heard her. The second person who sobbed and cried. He stood up. Thin threads of red ran down his naked chest, blood was splattered over his whole, bare body. Still partly caught in the daze of his lust for blood, he simply followed the weak, mewling sound. ‘Mother…’The moment Gabe had attacked his father, the shock had left her unable to stop them. Even running away had been too much. All she had done was taking a few, shaky steps backwards, falling over her own feet. During the fight, she had withdrawn into the corner of the room. She was hugging her knees and rocking back and forth, like she had used to do after a nightmare when she had been a little girl. Of course she had watched them.“You always looked.” Gabe stated. The feeble weariness from before was gone. His voice was both high as it had been when he still was a boy, and hoarse and deep, hinting at the man he would be one day. She shivered. Everything had been alright only half an hour ago. Everything would turn out alright again. If she just waited. Charles would stand up and yell at both of them for being tiresome. Maybe slap her, then he would relief his stress, using the child, and everything would be alright.“Gabriel, my little angel…my baby. I love you, your mother loves you…” she spoke more to herself than to her son.“You never helped me.”“Love you so much. You are a good son. We all love you. Give your mommy a hug, my beautiful angel…” She broke into a shrill, hysterical giggle as she sang on, her arms still around her knees. Gabe had picked up the poker from the fireplace and her grotesque smile died away when he raised his hand.“Gabriel, no! Don’t! No!” She tried to crawl farther into the corner, but the walls were unyielding. Her eyes now filled with tears and fear, she bowed down her head and began to beg for her life. “Please, Gabriel, you are my son! I’m sorry, you are right, I’m a horrible mother! Please, please forgive me, don’t hurt me! Gabriel, you won’t hurt me, will you? Please, spare my life!”His face darkened. The tears stopped as he stared down at her. She had always watched. Always watched. Always. Whatever his father had done, how much he had hurt him. When he had looked at her, helpless, hoping she would do something, stop that man from burning him from inside. Watched. Shaken her head. He hated her. His father had hated her. But he hated her more.“Gabriel, darling?” Hesitantly, she lifted her head, gazing at him, her eyes full of hope.“Disgusting…” he sneered, the last word he would ever say to her. The iron rod flew down and hit her on the top of her head. Her jaw dropped open, her eyes rolled up, and limply, she collapsed. A small line of blood appeared on her forehead, slowly running down her face. Yet, she was not dead. Gabe saw how her chest still moved. He kneeled down, turned her on her back and straddled her. For a moment, he looked at the frozen expression of her face. He could see fright and horror, but also a small, still not completely vanished hint of hope in her stunned eyes. As she had always done in the past, he now denied her any hope. He waited a bit more until her eyelids fluttered and she began to speak some incoherent words. One hand around her throat, he began to punch her with his free fist, listening closely how the bones in her face broke. It took him longer to make her shut up forever – there was no deadly injury. He would wait until she recovered when she was about to faint, and continue. In the end, she would lie still. A little while longer he smashed her face – now with both hands, not finishing before it was an irrecognizable, bloody mass. Gabe grinned. How much father and mother looked alike now.He stood up and sat down on the sofa, looking at the two dead bodies. The blood around his father was drying and left one large and many fine, dark-brown sprinkles on the grayish carpet. The blood of his mother was still fresh and bright. Probably even warm. He stared at his hands. Red. They trembled. He opened and closed them again, expecting them to hurt. Nothing hurt. The pain had been washed away, leaving nothing but a dull, bizarre feeling of coldness. Dark and empty. It was over, yet he felt it would never really be over. The last words of his father still echoed in his head, mixing with the pleading voice of his mother. It had been so easy, so fast. All these years. But nothing disappeared. The memories, still there. His parents, still there. Dead, but he could see them, hear them in his head. Only the pain was gone. The fingers of his right hand trailed over the open skin around his left wrist. It didn’t sting. He poked into the wound, nothing. As strongly as he could he bit into the flesh of his own arm, the teeth digging deep enough to tear the skin open. He tasted his own blood, saw the marks and the small, reddish spots. He didn’t feel anything. He began to tremble. This was scary, scarier than being hurting. He stood up, paced the room, stepped over the corpse of his father. Ran against the edges of the table on purpose. It should hurt, but it didn’t. Drowning. It was like drowning – the world around him faded, collapsed, shutting him out. The rushing noises in his head damped his senses. Gabe broke down beside the dead man, ignoring the squishy sound of the blood-soaked carpet underneath. He howled, drumming with his fists on the man’s torso. In vain. Freed himself from them, in vain. He was still here and would always be. He didn’t want to lose himself and vanish into nothingness.“Mike! MIKE!” He threw himself around, his legs too shaky to stand up, and half crawled, half crouched towards the cellar door. “MIKE!”
*](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7rqo7f2rm1rvxzbro1_r1_500.gif)
Story by Ligeiamaloy // CoverArt and CBS Twins by BlastedKing//
[[Part 1]] // [[Part 2]] // [[Part 3]] // [[Part 4]] // [[Part 5]] // [[Part6]]
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December 1958
“You’ll hate me like him, right? One day, you’ll hate me, too, won’t you? Gabe?” Carefully, Mike reached for his brother’s face, but quickly withdrew the moment Gabe hit at him. Empty looking, wide opened eyes stared at him. Mike opened his mouth and closed it again, not really sure what he should say. With the back of his hand he wiped his lips. Blood.
Photo with 30 notes
![Story by Ligeiamaloy // CoverArt and CBS Twins by BlastedKing//
[[Part 1]] // [[Part 2]] // [[Part 3]] // [[Part 4]] // [[Part 5]]
_____________________
December, 1957
Winter arrived early this year. Falling snow covered the roofs and gardens of the suburban town. From the morning hours on, young and older men busily removed the white splendor from sidewalks and garage drives. Later that day, once when school was over, children would conquer head-high snow-piles; rebuilding them to castles and caverns while their mothers, aunts and grandmas were busily preparing and baking, adorning their homes for the coziness of the Christmas season.
[[MORE]]
For the two boys still asleep in their basement, it made no difference if tree branches were swaying under the thick layer of snow or if worried parents warned their children not to play under arm-long icicles hanging from the roof gutters. In the 13 years of their life, they never had set a foot on a snowy meadow. The last time they had seen snowflakes through a window they had been six, or maybe seven. They didn’t know of Christmas Carols, the scents of cardamom, aniseed or cinnamon rising from the stove. Under the vigilant, cruel eyes of their father they had learned what Christmas was, but nobody told them about a festive season, nor had they gotten the chance to experience it through their parents’ behavior.
December was a very cold month, not as cold as February, but reason enough to sleep as long as possible, sharing one bed and the warmth of their bodies under one cover. The younger twin didn’t refuse his brother’s urge to touch and to be touched, to demand and to give release. Whatever amount of additional heat and closeness they could receive was welcome during those chilly weeks of December. However, learning about this new value of touching and how they were affected by it was the only thing that had changed. Violence was still a daily routine and continued every little while when they were alone. In those moments, in which a tender hand couldn’t calm Gabe’s violated mind and body or Mike’s growing rage and hatred, new wounds were added on Mike’s arms, or older ones torn open, either by Gabe or the older twin himself. Often enough, Mike would push his brother away first, to the ground, against the wall, before he pulled the struggling youth close again by his chain. Yet, no matter how overwhelming blind hate, empty frustration or desperate need might have been, in the end they would sleep in one bed, under one blanket, as closely huddled against each other as possible.
The last day and the following night had been exhausting. With a father in a bad mood - angry at some person they didn’t know – who loved to regain his happiness by making them suffer, there were always seemingly never ending hours of pain to expect. Too much pain to make it disappear with hugs and a long kiss before falling asleep. Naturally, their eyes were still closed and their chests heaving in a steady, peaceful rhythm when the parents returned from the weekly church service. Lazily lifting one eyelid, Mike didn’t even bother to turn around. His back was directed to the stairs and Gabe had wrapped his legs around him. The younger twin’s chained hands rested a bit uncomfortably on Mike’s throat; however, he didn’t really want to change this position or to wake up his brother. From the clicking noise of flat heels coming from the other end of the room he heard it was only their mother anyway. Sleepily, the forefinger of his right hand traced the purple bruise that had developed on Gabe’s cheekbone. A new mark, one of the few not caused by their father. Slightly feeling guilty, he smiled. No matter how much his brother had to endure from that man – whenever Mike lost his temper and attacked him, the quiet boy wouldn’t hesitate to fight back. Mike could still taste stale blood on his tongue and he didn’t have to look at his right arm to know how deep a rusty nail had been buried into the flesh. More than once, it had been stabbed into his shoulder before Mike could finally push his twin away.
“Michael! Gabriel!” an exasperated voice rose up from the end of the stairs. Annoyed by the disturbance, Mike sighed, still refusing to move. He could imagine the sight clearly – how she stood there, wearing a long, clean dress. Feet stuck in black shoes. The grey hair probably pinned-up, unlike the untidy mane she wore when she didn’t leave the house. Nose and cheeks red, eyes teary. Maybe make-up was smeared all over her face again, maybe not yet. Who cared? Who cared for a woman with a thin-lipped, aghast face, showing the same expression she always did lately when she found them lying like this in one bed, always shouting the same words. “Michael! I know you are awake! I told you, you are to big too sleep together like two little children! It’s inappropriate! Get up and go to your own bed!”
As the gust of indignation wasn’t about to stop, Mike covered Gabe’s ear with his hand, careful to avoid hitting the peaceful face with the chain. Just a few more minutes, why shouldn’t they have them? He would come for them soon enough, she was not in the place to order them around! Gently, his lips brushed his twin’s forehead. A very different part of his body was about to wake up now. She should just go away already; he had his own mind how he wanted to wake Gabe up.
“Michael! That’s… Are you even listening to me? Get up and stay away from your brother or…” Almost laughing at the attempt of a threat, the older twin finally turned his head around, gazing at her with a smile.
“Come,” he whispered, lowly under his breath, but clearly. “Come and make me, if you dare.” At the underlying, unmistakable maliciousness in his words, her hand unconsciously moved to her throat. Mike grinned wider. Oh yes, she still remembered very well how he had attacked her, and she was aware he would do it again, not caring for the consequences. Still smiling to himself, he turned back to his brother. Bleary, bright-blue eyes blinked quizzically at him. “Nevermind, Gabe. It’s ‘kay,” he mumbled, hands already moving over the smooth chest of his twin.
“Imprudent children, I know you will atone for this, he will make you.” There was no threat in her voice, only the certainty of her husband being in the right, calming and agitating her mind equally. Everyone in the house knew that another drink would diminish her grief before ten minutes would have passed.
*
She hadn’t told Charles of her worries. Of what kind of disturbance she was thinking every time she saw her sons holding each other even too close for twins. For now, her mind refused to clearly shape what she already felt was about to happen between them, if it not already had. However, it was not in her hands to do something about that. As it wasn’t in her hands to stop her husband from whatever he thought was right. Instead, her mind told her that obviously, being a faithful man after all, Charles did the right thing. Sins had to be punished. Even if he punished them with another sin. But he was a man of faith, a believer in the words of God. What if this was the only way?
Those and other thoughts filled her head, and she rinsed them thoroughly with another glass of wine until they became a nice and plausible, pink fog.
She had stopped leaving the room years ago. In fact, she had accepted having her son upstairs with them for hours as a new routine. The screams had been harder to get used to, and she feared she would never fully be able to shut them out of her mind, like those noises from her husband she had never heard from him when he still had used to be with her. Maybe she only didn’t remember. After all, it had been more than 13 years since he had slept with her. Guilt had mixed with the pain the sting of jealousy had caused in her heart. It wasn’t right to condemn her son. Especially when she thought of the broken, pleading eyes when he looked at her, silently begging her to help him. Only contempt and more wine could soften the pain those eyes inflicted in her. Eventually, his piercing screams would fade, sometimes he almost made no noise except some whimpers. If he cried out, it was less shrill since his voice was already losing the childlike pitch. They had grown so much. Not a small child lay under her husband’s heavy body, almost crushed by the weight. Both boys had become surprisingly tall, considering the circumstances. All she had learned about healthy nourishment that was essential if children should grow properly had been read in vain. Redundant information, the children grew anyway. She glanced to the side from the corner of her eye, catching a glimpse of Gabriel’s face. The features were distorted by pain, his eyes shut closely, his lip bleeding as his own teeth had broken the skin. Quickly, she looked away. So tall already. With the face of a teenager, the boyishness almost completely gone. She sighed, remembering how she had taught them to read, played with them, hugged them. Now it wasn’t her who ever embraced them. As long as Charles was around she didn’t dare to show any signs of affection. When she was alone with them they wouldn’t accept her gentleness. And she wouldn’t ask for it anymore. It had become too dangerous.
Telling herself that the agonized wailing came from the crime mystery shown on TV, she turned her head, staring out of the window. It was late afternoon, but the whole day had been grey, with a sky hidden behind thick clouds. Since yesterday, it hadn’t snowed. She wondered if Charles would allow her to decorate the living room with some candles this year. Maybe if she asked him later, once they were alone. He would probably be in a good mood then, the best opportunity.
Those were the thoughts that kept her mind busy while she continued to watch TV, only leaving the room once to replace the empty bottle with a new one. Highly interested in modern dance music lately, she switched through the three channels until one finally aired what she was hoping for. She turned up the volume, humming along the cheerful tune. Given the kind of poor in charm, sad life she had been living, this was actually the most pleasant way of spending an evening she could think of. She didn’t have many other options. Even if she left the room, she would learn about those happenings later, when Charles told her the details. She might as well stay here and enjoy the TV and another glass of wine.
Fortunately, her husband had to go to work early on Monday. The weather made it more difficult to pass the roads, often not cleared from the snow. Charles didn’t like being unpunctual. Around 10pm, he finally had enough of her son. Stretching with a satisfied, relaxed smile on his face, he left for the bathroom. He would brush his teeth now and take a quick shower before he would dress for the night. So it was her job today to urge the boy, who now lay curled up and trembling on the carpet, to stand up. It was a blessing that Gabriel didn’t share the aggressive temper of his violent brother. She didn’t fear him when she pulled him up and handed him his clothes. Whatever mess might have been left this time, she would clean up once she had closed the door behind the youth’s back, leaving him to the dim light and his brother. She had taught Michael how to treat any injuries, so she didn’t have to worry about that. Whatever they did or not besides that was none of her business. Matters concerning the twins were something Charles took care of. As he had always done, when he had decided they should be allowed to live as long as it were under his conditions. When he had decided how to teach them the words of the Lord and obedience. When he had decided that paying a school was too much of an expense and a waste of money for those dim creatures. Why should she care about the rest then? If they thought they have to sin against God, the punishment they received another day was at least earned. Still humming the tune from before, she shoved the boy through the door and locked it. Once she was done putting things in order in her little realm, she followed her husband, feeling optimistic that he would grant her the wish of some tasteful Christmas decoration.
*
Mike’s reaction to Gabe’s return lacked any kindness or relief. The last hours he had spent, as so often, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. Engulfing loneliness dragged his spirit down every time he was left behind alone and nothing sparked his interest. True, there was not much to do for him, the chained prisoner of this basement. However, over the years, they had managed to hide a small collection of books and magazines given to them by their mother. For someone who never really had experienced other spare time activities than reading, he had never grown very fond of books. While his brother was with him, he had no use for them anyway. But when some time had passed and he knew that he would soon be alone because Gabe had to leave with that man, he often thought that he should try everything to make the time pass faster. Dreading being alone for hours, nothing seemed too boring as long as it would distract his mind. In the end, he would lie in his bed, unable to do anything. Only rarely he paced the room or even tried to read by browsing through the pages without really looking at them. There was just enough strength in him left to climb back under his blanket as the heaviness of being the only one in this dim, cold room pressed him into the mattress.Lately, it had become worse. In the past months and years, the paralyzing apathy started once Gabe was gone and vanished when he heard how the door was opened. Today, after he had showed their mother her place, it hadn’t been so bad. A few days ago was another matter. They had been left alone for two days and the moment Mike had opened his eyes, feeling his twin curled up against his back, he had known it was time. There hadn’t been any hint, only a little voice in his head telling him that, in a few hours, their father would come and everything would start over again. A certain knowledge with no chance of escaping or changing the inevitable. The warm breath of his sleeping brother in his neck suddenly became unbearable, like he couldn’t muster up the strength to feel and accept the closeness, let alone actively dealing with it. Gabe was still with him, yet the loneliness had already taken hold of Mike, the presence of his brother too unreal. It didn’t matter if he was there or not, he would be gone soon. So the older twin had left the bed and crawled into the empty one, refusing to talk to the confused Gabe or even acknowledge him being there. There was nothing his twin could do or say, Mike had already withdrawn from his surroundings, lying still and staring at the ceiling. He didn’t move when their father took Gabe away. The first time he had reacted this evening, by turning his head, his twin had already been back for an hour, huddled against Mike’s side, trembling. “Well, look who’s comin’ back?” This evening, the paralysis ended the moment Gabe passed Mike’s bed, dragging the long leash behind him. Wonderful, the night wasn’t over yet; as always when their mother sent Gabe down, another visit from their father would follow. Most of the time that man didn’t stick to only simply fastening the chains. “Thought I’d never see ya face again anytime soon.” The older twin’s mood was bad, caused by hatred and built-up anger. While being alone with his thoughts, Mike had felt nothing but emptiness. Missing his brother, longing for him… the deep disgust for what their father was doing to him – all this came to him now, overwhelming him. An indestructible wall in his head pushed words of comfort and affection back before he could even think them, no matter how much he felt them. ‘Come here’ or just ‘how are you?’, simple words that seemed awkward lately. ‘What happened?’ - a stupid question. More promises, how he planned to end this one day, the same promises he had made since they were small? “Enjoyed your stay upstairs?” Finally, something, not close to anything Mike wanted to say. Not when his twin was kneeling in front of the toilet, throwing up while cold sweat covered his face. Mike listened how Gabe rinsed his mouth and washed himself, apparently not minding the cold water. Well, at least they had running water tonight, despite the frosty weather. When he showered this long, it had been very bad. “You were quiet today, didn’t hear you at all,” Mike said, as indifferent as possible. Silently, Gabe passed by, shaking his head violently. Icy drops of water sprayed over the older twin’s face. One of those days Gabe wouldn’t speak at all, even not to him. For Mike, just another day of uselessness. There was nothing he could do, never. Not today, not in the future. There was no way to change anything, and now he wasn’t even able to say something of value. He hated that man, and his own life. “You gettin’ used to it, eh?” he spat out. Taking out his anger and disgust on his twin didn’t make him feel better at all. Gabe continued ignoring him. Maybe he didn’t even hear him - Mike didn’t know. Without a word, the youth picked up his clothes. Mike sat up, looking at his brother’s bare back. New bruises, on his legs, his hips, along his spine. The shoulder… this morning, Mike had bitten his brother, leaving a clearly visible mark on the crook of his brother’s neck. Now, on his shoulder, was a second one. Larger and deeper than his; bright-red imprints of large teeth, glowing mockingly at him, screaming at him:”he’s mine, not yours!”.“No, he’s not yours!” he growled, unaware he voiced his thought at all. With one quick jump, he stood behind Gabe. One arm resting on the slim hip, one hand shoved between the youth’s legs from behind. Mike hadn’t planned to startle his brother, so the violent reaction came unexpected. Gabe turned around and pushed Mike forcefully away from him. The older twin staggered backwards and tripped over his own feet. Before he landed on his bed, Gabe had already leaped at him and punched him in hard in his face. Crying out, more because of the surprise than of pain, Mike fell on his back, buried under his twin. Even now, while Gabe hit after his brother again and again, he remained silent, only uttering inarticulate, almost feral noises. Mike recovered quickly from the shock, partly due to the pain inflicted to his nose by Gabe’s fists. Quickly, he grabbed the chain with both hands and tugged it hard enough to cut his twin’s breath short. Gabe let go of him at once and dragged feverishly, more in a wild trance than in control of himself, at the collar, only succeeding in tightening it even more. Using the moment of distraction, Mike seized him by one arm, jerked forward and easily turned around, now pressing his twin onto the mattress. With their positions reserved, Mike had more control over his brother who still fought to catch his breath. Straddling him, Mike watched his twin’s face. Eyelids half opened, the blue eyes seemed to be so far away. His gaze followed the features of the thin face, wandered along the jawline and finally, the pale throat. At the shoulder, his eyes stopped, caught by the sight of the teeth mark from their father. Slowly, he opened his pants and pushed them down. Freeing his legs from the old piece of cloth, he lay down on his brother, covering the cold body with his. Tenderly, he traced the new bite mark with one of his fingers.“You hold still when he touches you, right? When I want that, you hit me, you think that’s fair?” The words sounded far less malicious than he had hoped, only sad and desperate. The scent of soap, wet hair and skin clouded his senses.The older twin’s mind grew more and more dominated by anger and arousal. And an always underlying guilt. He was guilty, a sinner - because he treated Gabe like this. Because releasing his rage while having control over his brother made the crazy heat rush through his bloodstream until it focused in his groin. Three of the seven deadly sins. Pride… wrath… and first of all - lust.‘I’m not like him,’ a terrified voice in his head screamed, but he was unable to listen. Now, he was driven by instinct, more guessing than knowing what he was about – wanted – to do. His torso heavily resting on Gabe’s chest and face at his brother’s throat, he inhaled deeply. His hands – chain and cuffs jingling with ever movement as they brushed over pale and bruised skin - went deeper, feeling between his twin’s buttocks.Hissing in pain, he pulled back. Gabe’s hand had clasped around Mike’s shoulder, fingernails purposefully digging into a fresh wound that had been added only a day before. Mike blinked, slowly returning to a reality in which he lay on his naked, choking twin, ready to hurt him in any way necessary to claim him back from their father.“Mike…” his twin’s voice was too low to be clearly understood. “Dammit.” Cursing himself, Mike quickly raised his hands and reached for the collar, helping Gabe to loosen it. Being able to breathe freely, the younger twin gasped for air, exhaling slowly. Then, with fully opened eyes, he looked at his brother. “Do it.”“What, Gabe..!” Still not fully comprehending how they had ended in this position, with Mike forcing himself on his twin, the older twin shook his head.“Come on, Mike, do it!” Gabe shouted, his voice surprisingly clear and determined. Spreading his legs, he took Mike’s hand and shoved it as far as he could between them again. “Don’t want me anymore?” He mocked him. Of course Mike wanted him. Even if his brother’s words had woken him up from the blind rage – the desire remained unbroken. Fighting for control over his own mind, he flinched when two ice-cold hands stroke over his cheeks. Gabe pulled him closer and they kissed, roughly and hungrily. The younger twin teased Mike, bit his lip, chewed on it until it hurt. Mike fell for the provocation, and bit back, tearing at the soon swollen lip until he tasted a first drop of blood. Groaning lowly in the back of his throat, Mike pressed his hips as close to his brother’s as possible, wishing his hands were free. Although he enjoyed this little game of hurting and being hurt, he wanted his brother to join, yet he felt, having Gabe’s lower body under his, that his twin didn’t share the excitement. But restricted like this, he had to be careful not to strangle Gabe more than sufferable.“Mike, do you know how to…?” With the weight of his twin on his chest, Gabe’s breaths were short and the question a hoarse whisper. “Of course, idiot,” Mike cut him short, sounding less confident than hoped. He moved between his brother’s legs, supporting his upper body by pressing his chained hands on Gabe’s stomach. “Too heavy? Good,” he sighed when the other twin shook his head, using his hands to guide him. Mike’s hands had just enough freedom between them to use one to steady himself and one to follow Gabe’s between the younger twins buttcheeks. The chain rested tautly across Gabe’s lower body, slightly cutting into the sensitive skin of that area.“Do it, Mike, just push. As hard as you can.” The younger twin tilted his head back, closing his eyes. “Don’t know, Gabe, feels pretty tight, you sure…”“WHO ARE YOU, VIRGIN MARY? A COWARD? LIKE HER, TOO STUPID TO DO MORE THAN SAYING ‘NO, DEAR, YOU SHOULDN’T’?!” The sudden outburst was so unlike Gabe, so loud and distraught. The words and how they ended in a violent sob were more than Mike could deal with. His mind blank, he didn’t hesitate anymore. His hands seizing his brother’s shoulder, he did as he was told – pushing inside his twin’s body with a long, hard thrust. He shivered, his long, growling moan drowned by Gabe’s pained cry. For a moment, Mike himself found it hard to breathe – he had been right, his brother was tight, too tight, around him. It hurt. He inhaled slowly. Yes, it hurt, but it also felt good, so good. “You okay?” he asked under his breath, already panting. “Move already!” Gabe pressed through clenched teeth, shifting his hips slightly, but with his brother lying on him, his range of movement was limited. Mike nodded and careful not to hurt himself or his twin more than necessary, he slowly pulled back and thrust a second time. “God…” The heat, the pressure around him, the friction as he roughly glided in again drove him mad. “Gabe…”The younger twin sobbed, and Mike felt being pulled even closer when his brother’s legs wrapped around him. “As hard as you can, Mike. Don’t stop, I still feel him, don’t stop!” By now, Gabe was crying. His hands, caught between both their bodies, twitched helplessly. “Mike, I don’t want to feel him anymore, please!” The older twin shuddered. Gabe begged him; he didn’t want him to beg, or to beg himself. They should beg, the day they would have to pay… until then, this was what he could do for his twin. Without holding back anymore, he thrust, as forcefully as he could, his fingernails scratching over his twin’s chest while he tried to keep his balance. Gabe’s cries, his pained moans – Mike knew his brother wasn’t enjoying this, but his own body didn’t care. He knew how his brother had to endure this for hours with the man they both hated, but he felt the muscles in his whole body already tensing up. His own lust for his twin was unimpressed by the guilt that grew in his mind. He wanted his brother, like this, close, as close as possible, making the presence of that man disappear, erasing the remains of him from Gabe’s body, from the in- and outside. Halting before the next thrust, he changed his position just enough so he could reach Gabe’s shoulder. With the next push, he bit down into the reddened flesh, overwriting their father’s mark with his own teeth. The shrill outcry still echoed in his ear when he lifted his head and searched for his brother’s lips. He felt and heard Gabe’s short, agonized gasps while he kissed him. He slowed the kiss down – which was difficult to do as he didn’t change the abrupt, forceful movements of his hips. His tongue went deeper into his brother’s mouth and for the first time since Gabe’s return, he believed that the following shivers implied at least a bit of pleasure.Mike panted faster, almost choking on his own breath. He clenched his teeth as his back arched. His hips bucked, thrusting one last time – then it was over. Exhausted, he collapsed on his brother’s body. His hands took hold of a few strands of Gabe’s hair, and he stroked it gently while he tried to recover his breath. With the release of the tension, he left his brother’s body as soon as he shifted his hips to find a more comfortable position. He regretted the sudden loss of the warmth, the feeling of being so close to his twin. Suddenly, he was tired, wished they could simply fall asleep. But Gabe was still shivering under him, and crying. Sighing as every bone and muscle seemed to hurt now, Mike lifted his body and let himself slide to his brother’s side. Gabe turned his head, facing the older twin. “It’s you.” Mike looked thoughtfully at the new mark. It was rather deep and bleeding at some points; the bruise already turned purple. “You still feel him?” he asked, worried and tired. “It’s you,” his brother only repeated, rolled on his side and tried to move closer again, like he was afraid of the few inches of distance. “It’s you now.” Mike understood. So this had been a good thing for his twin, too. In another way though. He took Gabe’s left hand in his right, and the fingers of his free hand gently moved over the split bottom lip. The small wound from their rough kiss from before had already stopped bleeding. “Want me to touch you, too?” he offered, but Gabe shook his head. “Sleeping,” was the short answer and he already huddled against his twin. “Okay.” Mike was really okay with this. Sleeping sounded good. “Wanna wash yourself first?” he asked nevertheless as their legs intertwined. The skin between Gabe’s thights felt sticky. “You mind?” Gabe asked back, eyes half-closed, and Mike shut his own. “Nah, it’s okay.”A strong kick against the bed and cursing, threatening words woke them up in the middle of the night. That man had finally come. Still more asleep than awake, they kept their eyes shut. The twins clung to each other, hoping behind reason it would change anything. For once, nothing happened. Their father only put the loose end of the leash to its place and left again. The leash. Mike had forgotten about that. That didn’t make sense. “Hey, Gabe, you are an idiot. You would have been safe from me if you had run to the stairs, and not attacked me…” Irritated, his brother lifted one eyelid. “I’m not an idiot. I knew that. I’m tired.” Mike looked at him with an uneasy feeling. Sometimes, it had become difficult to understand what was going on in Gabe’s head. “You didn’t run so I could…” he began cautiously, but stopped when his twin glared at him with wide open eyes. Deciding to drop the matter for now, Mike shrugged. Strange behavior or not – obviously, it had earned them what both of them had needed at that time.
***
[[Part 7]]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7kv9biTza1rvxzbro1_500.jpg)
Story by Ligeiamaloy // CoverArt and CBS Twins by BlastedKing//
[[Part 1]] // [[Part 2]] // [[Part 3]] // [[Part 4]] // [[Part 5]]
_____________________
December, 1957
Winter arrived early this year. Falling snow covered the roofs and gardens of the suburban town. From the morning hours on, young and older men busily removed the white splendor from sidewalks and garage drives. Later that day, once when school was over, children would conquer head-high snow-piles; rebuilding them to castles and caverns while their mothers, aunts and grandmas were busily preparing and baking, adorning their homes for the coziness of the Christmas season.
Photo with 34 notes
![Story by Ligeiamaloy // CoverArt and CBS Twins by BlastedKing//
[[Part 1]] // [[Part 2]] // [[Part 3]] // [[Part 4]]
___________
1957
Gabe was with him again. At some time during the morning, not his mother had come, to bring them something to eat. No, only the old bastard. To take Gabe with him. So it was Saturday. Lying on his back, facing the ceiling, Mike threw an old tennis ball and caught it again. The mother gave it to them, so they wouldn’t be too bored. How fascinating.[[MORE]] He stared at his hand when he held the yellowish ball. Long, slim fingers wrapped around the worn-out toy. He had grown a lot during the last few months. His mother said that was the reason why he felt so tired lately. Was it so unusual that he preferred lying in his bed? It was not like he was always asleep anyway. Even if he wanted. Gabe had grown, too. Sometimes, it was still like looking into a mirror when Mike saw his twin. Sometimes, it felt weird. Suddenly restless, Mike stood up and paced the room, the chain rattling behind him. Everything was so weird lately. How late was it, afternoon? Evening? His twin had stopped screaming a while ago. On the other hand, he didn’t scream so much anymore anyway. In his mind, he saw his father’s hands touching his brother’s body. “SHIT!” Angrily, he hurled the ball across the room. The old toy bounced from the walls, rolled over the floor and finally disappeared under Gabe’s bed. When this had started, four years ago, he had no idea what was going on. However, over the years, especially the last months, he somehow felt what all of this was about. All of this his father was doing to his twin. Well, of course nobody had thought of telling him anything. He threw himself back into his bed and turned to the wall, curled-up under his blanket. He had given up asking his mother years ago. Gabe, too, refused to talk.
Back then, four years ago, Mike had feared his brother wouldn’t talk to anyone ever again. The whole night, and the following day, Gabe had clung to his twin, only moving when Mike moved. Cried when Mike had left the bed. Grabbed his shirt when Mike had returned. Once Mike thought his brother would finally relax a bit, he was brought upstairs again. Everything was back – the man’s laughter, his brother’s screams. Blood between his legs, bruises of the shape of their father’s hands covering Gabe’s hips. Mike couldn’t do anything to help him. Whatever he said to him, his twin didn’t react.
Finally, after the fourth of fifth time, Gabe came back downstairs. He sat down on their bed, next to Mike, and pointed at the older twin’s arm. Mike understood and loosened the bandage, uncovering old and healing wounds. With a nod, he handed Gabe a shard of glass. A moment later, he almost cried. The cuts were deep, deeper than usual. Three…four… five… on both arms. Mike soon felt dizzy, he was losing too much blood. Gabe stopped when his brother was about to faint and renewed the bandages, as firmly as he could. That night, Mike fell asleep quickly, suddenly feeling very tired, even too tired to leave the blood-soaked bed and go to his own. Their mother’s scream woke them up the next morning. She had been horrified when she saw the twins sleeping on the now dark-red mattress, the bandages around Mike’s arms completely red. For a second, she had feared the worst. A little while later, she tried her best to sew the long gashes. Removing the ordinary cotton thread would hurt, but at least the feverish boy wouldn’t die of blood loss.
Lost in his thoughts, Mike’s hands stroke over his arms. Many smaller cuts had almost vanished, some were still clearly visible. The scars of the deep cuts still looked ugly. It didn’t matter, the pain was long gone and he only removed the bandages when he washed himself or Gabe needed him. No permanent damage had been done and – most importantly – after that night, Gabe had talked to him. Never about what happened when he was alone with his father though. Weeks later, it had become another routine. The beatings hadn’t stopped, too. Sometimes, they were left alone for a few days. He remembered the first time, how scary it had been. Now, they knew their parents would return for sure, and everything would be back to normal. That man would come down, beat them until they were bleeding, and sometimes, once he was done, he would take Gabe with him. Well, if he insisted… Mike tried not to care. As long as these routine procedures entertained their father, he wouldn’t think of crueler methods. After all, that man obviously hadn’t been bored for four years now. Nothing had changed. Nothing but them maybe. He hadn’t noticed it until a month ago, when their mother had come for them and he could almost see straight into her eyes. Only a few more inches, and he would be taller than her. Gabe, too, of course. She had said it was a wonder that they had grown so fast and so much at all. Whatever she had meant. She had been nervous – Mike liked that. Sighing, he closed his eyes when the door opened. He saw no reason to turn around – Gabe always looked the same when he was finally allowed to return. Empty gaze, more bruises. Trembling, naked, carrying his clothes in his hands. Sometimes bleeding, sometimes not. He had grown so much. Mike saw the long legs and the skinny torso strongly enough in front of his inner eyes. That was bothersome enough; he didn’t feel like really seeing his twin at all.
“Hello Mike…” Only their mother. How late was it? Partly, he felt guilty because he was a bit relieved it wasn’t his twin. Anyway, the feelings of worry and annoyance were more intense. “Cleaned bedclothes.” Did he care? Of course not. He wanted her to go away. Stupid drunk woman. He didn’t want to have her around, hear her talking. There, again. Only complaining about life, how sad she was, how empty her existence was… How much she wished for a complete, happy family, maybe with a little girl… “Can’t you shut up for once, stupid woman?” he ranted suddenly, and bit on his tongue. He hated it when he caught himself using words he had learned from his father. Irritated with her and himself, he turned around. She stood in front of his bed now, glaring at him. “How are you talking to your mother? Haven’t you ruined my life enough?” Great, she really was drunk again. He rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that look! Move your ass, I want to make your bed, too.” Narrowing his eyes, Mike did as he was told. For a moment, he stood right in front of her. He could smell her breath and see the small, red veins in her eyes. Her hair had turned gray over the years. Had he really once thought she looked pretty? He couldn’t imagine at all that he and Gabe had once liked being touched and held by here. “What are you looking at?” she snapped. Her voice might have sounded nervous, but her stare remained surprisingly steady. “Stop that! I’m sick seeing your face, while that bastard with the same face is just being fucked by my husband! First my life, then my husband! You…” Mike didn’t hear the rest of her sentence. Suddenly, he felt hot, like the fever from almost four years ago had returned. In his mind, everything turned into a whirl of black and screeching crimson. Blood and darkness drowning her slurring voice. Her puffy face disappeared and he saw his father, his disgusting hands, his brother’s slim body. “WHORE! GODDAMNED WHORE! DIE! HATE YA! JUST… DIE!” he yelled, not even realizing how he had jumped at her and knocked her off her feet. Kneeling above her, he hit her face with his fists. She screamed, calling her husband’s name. “SHUT UP!” he shouted back, his hands wrapping around her throat when she didn’t stop. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”
He came back to his senses when he felt a strong pull of the leash and the collar around his own throat tightened. He let go of her at once, trying to loosen the chain, gasping for air. The next thing he felt was a fist punching his face. He fell to the hard floor, his back hitting against the frame of his bed. The cold ground cooled his burning cheek and slowly, the raging storm in his mind vanished; the world took shape again. He shook his head and blinked. In front of him stood his father, angry, raising his arm for another blow. About a meter or two away, his mother. Lying on the ground, her hand at her throat. Coughing. Her face oddly red, almost bluish, the eyes bulging. The rest of the room behind her seemed so far away, and blurry. Yet he could clearly see his trembling brother. Still undressed, the youth held his clothes in front of him, like a shield. Gabe stared back, looking puzzled. Mike smiled, but then his twin disappeared from his vision. His father had kicked his side hard, and Mike squirmed, not even hearing the threatening voice shouting curses at him. The shoe hit his temple. This was the worst beating he had received in a while and it wasn’t over until he was about to pass out. Through swollen eyelids, he saw how Gabe came closer – following their father’s order – and was chained to his bed. Mike waited until the man had helped his wife to stand up and had left together. Carefully, he tried to move. His ribs hurt, and so did his face. The skin was broken in several places and blood dripped from his forehead. But the bones seemed fine. Gritting his teeth and more crawling than walking, he reached and climbed into his bed. Groaning with pain, he carefully turned around until he faced the wall. The bed creaked when Gabe sat down on the edge. Cold fingertips touched his neck – Mike shuddered. “Go away!” he hissed, trying to shake the hand off. Gabe didn’t move; he only placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“Why… didn’t you kill her?” Weird question. It wasn’t like Mike had planned to kill her. Hell, he hadn’t even realized that he had attacked her until they had fallen down and he had his fingers around her neck. Did he want to kill his mother? Now that he thought about it, not really. But he wouldn’t have cared if he had. He shrugged. “Not enough time. You and he finished too quickly.” He had intended to make a stupid joke, but the words came out unexpectedly sharp. His brother pulled his hand away and didn’t say a word. Lately, Mike didn’t like the silence. It was different from before. A new kind of uncomfortable, tensed silence. Finally, after several minutes had passed, Gabe hesitatingly spoke again, and the words made Mike shiver. “When… would you kill her when you had more time?” What did his brother mean, more time? He didn’t mind at all that his twin was asking if he could kill their mother. Mike knew his brother had stopped trusting or liking her many years ago, even when he still did. So Gabe suggested keeping his father busy. Voluntarily. He was about to ask if Gabe suddenly had began to enjoy those encounters. The spiteful thoughts surprised him, and he held his tongue, waiting until the rekindled rage calmed down again. “Leave me alone. Go into your own bed. Or better, wash yourself. You stink of him, it’s disgusting.”
If Gabe had followed his advice – or if the irritating scent had simply faded overnight – Mike didn’t know. When he woke up in the morning, he held his twin, who had curled up in his arms. They had been too big for sleeping comfortably in one bed about a year ago. It was difficult to move or turn, and around that time, Mike had begun to insist on sleeping alone.
All of a sudden, having his brother so close had felt awkward, and whenever Gabe ignored his wish, Mike had simply shoved him out of his bed and turned his back on him. This morning, Mike had a headache, and his face and body still hurt from yesterday’s kicks and punches. The warmth of Gabe’s body, the sound of his regular breathing… It was comforting. Still half asleep, he sighed; his arms pulling his brother closer, his legs wrapping around Gabe’s. The soft, tousled hair tickled his nose. Suppressing a sneeze, he inhaled deeply. A faintly dusty smell, and soap. So he had washed himself, just not his hair. Didn’t matter. Comfortably, he shifted, snuggling closer, mumbling sleepily his brother’s name. One hand now gently stroke Gabe’s neck. Felt good. His twin moved in his arms and Mike, completely at ease for the first time in months, growled lowly. A sudden, horrified scream woke him up for good, shattering the tranquil, relaxed mood disappear at once. Gabe had pushed him away and jumped out of the bed, his face pale and tired. Mike’s eyes followed his brother’s gaze and he blushed, quickly covering his lap with the blanket. It wasn’t Gabe’s fault, or the fault of the small beds. Because of his own body he couldn’t bear sharing one bed anymore. As long as he didn’t really understand what was going on, he just wanted to be left alone.
“Sorry.” Pulling the blanket up to his shoulders, he turned around and closed his eyes. Maybe he could sleep a little longer and forget about this. Which was not very easy when the reason of all this confusion – his brother – climbed back into the bed, under the cover and huddled against his bed. “I’m sorry,” the younger twin began to explain. “He suddenly was in my dream. Don’t want to sleep alone. Didn’t want to wake you up.” For Gabe, this was an astonishingly long speech, and he hadn’t finished yet. “Do you hate me?”
Mike gave a snort. “You are stupid. No.” The fingers of Gabe’s hand dug into his arm. “Why can’t I sleep here?” Thinking of a good answer was unnerving. What should he say? He didn’t really know why himself. “Because. Go away.” His good mood was gone and the uneasiness he felt whenever he had his brother to close too him lately returned. “No!” The fingers clung painfully to his arm. “I said, go away, Gabe. Now!” Mike almost shouted the last word. “NO!” was the obstinate answer. Crying out in frustration, Mike abruptly tossed around, finally shaking his brother off. His hands pinned him down by his shoulders, not letting go even when Gabe winced under the sudden, strong grip. Angry and breathless, Mike bended over him. “Stay away from me,” he pressed through clenched teeth, glaring at his twin. Desperately, he searched for the right words. If this were his mother, or that man, he would have known what to do. Beating them senseless. For a moment, he wished he could do that with his brother, too. He shook him, feeling torn between crying and shouting. “Just stay away from me! I mean it!” Gabe’s gaze remained unchanged, the blue eyes still focused on his brother’s face. “Why? Is it because…”
“Michael! Gabriel!” a harsh voice barked from the top of the stairs.
At once, Mike jumped back, releasing his brother. Gabe sat up, moving closer to his twin, and reached for his hand. The older twin squeezed it reassuringly, and Gabe smiled. A useless gesture, it wouldn’t save either of them from whatever their father had planned for them. Both of them knew that. Yet they only separated reluctantly when they were ordered to. Stoically, they watched their father. A pair of handcuffs closed with a metallic click around Mike’s wrists, and a new chain connected them with the choke collar. “Be grateful, bastard. You’ll still have enough freedom to scratch yourself or wipe your nose. But you’ll have a harder time attacking decent people.” The man patted the boy’s bruised cheek mockingly, and Mike had to hold back not to snap at him. Gabe was next. Once he was done, their father unfastened the leash and dragged the younger twin with him. Mike sighed, and let himself fall onto the bed again. He hadn’t even noticed his mother, who had placed a tablet with their food ration for today in front of the stairway. At this point, she was out of reach, just in case her son decided to attack her again. Mike lifted his hands, staring at the new bonds. It would be hard, no, impossible to properly strangle someone with the short chain between his wrists. Frustrated, he tugged at the new chain fastened to his collar. He would have to be careful not to strangle himself while being asleep. At least he now had a good reason why Gabe should sleep in his own bed, alone. He stood up and crawled under his brother’s bed, searching for the ball. Throwing and catching had become harder now. Trying to ignore the noises coming from upstairs, he wondered when they would return his twin to him this time.
***
Fall 1957
Alone again. From all the many things that happened to Mike, the loneliness was the worst. Their first nine years he had never been that often separated from his twin, and not for so long. Yes, Gabe didn’t talk much. Yes, lately it drove Mike mad whenever his brother was too close to him. Yes, sometimes he thought it would be easier to be alone, easier than being angry and confused. Nevertheless he felt the worst when he actually was left alone down. Even when they didn’t talk for hours, not even looked at each other – he’d rather have it like this than being without his brother. He also hated the look in Gabe’s face when the boy returned. It was already late, he knew that much, even without a clock or a window. Sometimes, they didn’t see their father for a week. Sometimes, he came daily for Gabe, only letting the exhausted youth rest for a few hours. And then, Mike would hear his brother cry and scream. He couldn’t decide what was harder to bear – hearing his twin yelling for him, or when Gabe was silent all of the sudden. Weeks ago, his brother had stopped crying when they were alone. Gabe was changing. Mike couldn’t explain it, but he felt it. Maybe he was only imagining things. The only thing that hadn’t changed was how his twin always tried to be close to him. This was something that was hard for Mike, too – why he shoved his brother away and snapped at him, even threatened him, Mike didn’t know. After all, it was better the way it used to be. Being close… It was all that man’s fault! If it weren’t for him… if he’d leave Gabe alone… if he’d just stop touching Gabe… If he, Mike could just find a way to make him stop already…
Sharp pain flashed through his right arm. He blinked, opened his eyes and was surprised to see the wall right in front of him. Confused, he looked around. Without realizing it, he had left his bed and started pacing through the basement, as far as his leash had let him. He also hadn’t realized how he had punched the wall. The short chain between the handcuffs jangled lowly when his left hand rubbed over the lightly bleeding knuckles. At least he hadn’t somehow managed to hit the massive surface with both hands. Unlike a few days before. He sighed. Another of those moments in the dark, as he called them. They happened way too often lately. A little while ago, it had not been a wall, but almost been his own brother. He had woken up just in time when Gabe had been calling his name.
Mike wiped the blood away on his shirt. Years ago, the fabric had been loose and white. Now, it was getting tight around his growing body, and the white had long ago faded to gray. Sometimes, their mother washed their clothes, but even then, it didn’t change the dull color or remove the many old, now brownish, bloodstains. A few more red smears or not didn’t make a big difference.
He sat down on his bed, and stood up again. Still no new noises from upstairs. He thought he heard the TV, sometimes the voice of his father. Otherwise – nothing, no sound from Gabe, and not from their mother. Again, he walked through the room. Restless as he was, he wouldn’t be able to lie still, let alone sleep. He almost jumped aside when a sudden, thumping noise came from above, but not from the cellar door. Lifting his head, he saw the old boards that covered the window. A howling wind raged outside, and rain heavily beat against the glass. Another stormy night, nothing out of the ordinary. Mike had never been afraid of them, even if they came with thunder. He didn’t know what was really happening outside, and all his childhood, Gabe had been with him, so there wasn’t something to be scared of. The window… “What the…?!” After 13 years down here, there had always been those long boards. All the time they had known they covered a window, but never really thought twice about it. He took a few steps back to gain a better view at the wooden construction and stared at it in bewilderment. They knew this room perfectly well, every inch of it, every little dust grain. They knew, of course, the boarded-up window. Yet, they had never spent a second thought on it or even questioned it. There was a window. Windows lead outside. Boards in front of it. If they were gone, he could see outside. He had never opened a window, but he knew that was possible. Maybe, if he just could… Nervously, he looked over his shoulder, facing the stairs and listening carefully. Still nothing but the TV and the wind. Stretching, standing on his toes, he tried to reach the lowest board. He didn’t even touch the wall underneath – the leash was too short. This was of no use, and he wasn’t tall enough anyway. And even if he succeeded in breaking the window open, what next?
If only Gabe was here. Thinking of what lay behind the boards – behind the window – was too much for his imagination. All he could think of were the memories of what he used to see through the window in the living room at daylight. People, trees, leaves. Cars. It didn’t matter.
Muttering several curses under his breath, he returned to his bed and pulled the cover over his head, trying to think of his brother, hoping he would come back soon. And annoy him. He would get angry and in the end, he would wake up in the morning with Gabe either in his arms or hugging him from behind. Nothing out of the ordinary. The rain became stronger. The tapping sound against the glass mocked him, growing louder and louder. It was disturbing. Still no sound from upstairs. People and dogs. Children of his size, walking around freely, without leashes and collars around their necks. Angrily, he tossed the blanket away and jumped to his feet. The stairs and the door were forgotten when he tried to push his bed closer to the wall. The metal frame screeched on the stone floor and he halted, remembering where he was. Counting to twenty, he waited. Nothing happened. As careful as he could, he continued pushing the bed, slowly, hoping to avoid as much of the ugly sound as possible. Every few steps, he paused, listening intensely. No key was turned, nobody shouted or attacked him. Finally, he decided it was close enough and climbed first onto the bed, then on its head. The old frame was slim and shaky, but he kept his balance, supporting himself by holding to the boards. He could reach them easily now.
Mike took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He squeezed the fingers of both hands between the lowest and the middle board, seizing the wooden edge. Carefully, he gave it a jolt. Old mortar trickled on the mattress and tiny, wooden splinters pierced through the skin of Mike’s hands. But the board didn’t move. In his mind, he heard their mother speaking. “We cannot go away. This is our life, there is no place for a mother with two sons. Our place is here, by his side. Here we belong.” How often had she repeated that when they had asked her if they couldn’t go to the next house and stay there? She had said it when they didn’t ask, when they used to be too small to ask and when they didn’t care anymore. What if she was right and there was nowhere to go for a mother with her children? What about children without her mother? Going away… to the trees or the other house… seeing how their basement looked, if they smelled of alcohol like mother or disgusting like father… Why did he bother so much? If he was caught he would be punished. For a moment, his courage left him and he was about to climb down, forgetting about the whole thing.
“Bullshit!” he suddenly snapped at the wall, strengthened his grip and jumped from the bed head. Finally, the long but rusty nails gave in. The board still in his hands, Mike staggered backwards, losing his balance, and fell from the bed to the hard floor.
“Dammit…” He flinched when he sat up again, his back hurting. Perplexed, he looked at his hands – it was true, he really had done it. Laughingly, he lifted his head. He couldn’t see much from this perspective, but it didn’t matter. He threw the piece of wood away and climbed back on the bed. This time, he was more careful when he jumped down and really – he avoided crashing to the ground this time. Now that he knew how to use his own weight to pull the boards down, things went more smoothly, and a few minutes later, his scratched, skinned hands rested on the slim windowsill. In front of him – the window. Not half as high or wide as those from upstairs, but there it was. Mike peered through the glass, his view blurred by raindrops running down the surface. He was both disappointed and confused.
Outside, it was darker than inside. The small light bulb dangling from the ceiling illuminated the basement at least a bit. He had expected to see a blue or maybe gray sky, maybe even a bit of the sun. However, now that he thought about it, he remembered the evenings they had to be upstairs with their father. The windows had been dark, too, he just hadn’t paid attention to them. They had other things to worry about. Of course it was dark now. It was late evening. It just never had mattered much to them how it looked outside during the different hours of the day, so he had forgotten.
Hesitatingly, he touched the glass. It was cold, even colder than the stone wall his body was pressed against. His eyes wandered to the frame of the window. There was the catch. Either he hypnotized the slim, rusty handle or it hypnotized him… he didn’t know. Stone-still he stood, staring at it. The overstretched muscles of his ankles hurt, and so did his back from the fall before. A few minutes passed. A few minutes more. Then, Mike was outside. Rain poured over his face and soaked him from head to toe. An angry storm blew violently through his hair and he shivered from the wet, biting cold around him. Yet, he didn’t take any notice of this. With shaking legs, he gazed into the black, clouded sky, desperately trying to see its end.
There was no end. His eyes began to hurt when more and more rain splashed into his face. Frantically, he turned his head from one side to the other. There they were, the bushes, the trees. Yes, he remembered looking at them. Very slowly, he made one step forward. His bare feet made a squishy sound on the wet grass. Mike stopped, lifting his head again. No matter where he tried to look at - the sky mercilessly demanded the youth’s attention to itself. For the first time in his life, Mike began to feel the meaning of the word horizon. And infinity. Insignificance. The countless times his father’s fists and feet had hit him, teaching him over and over again how worthless and useless they were… Mike had never imagined that something neither his hand nor his mind could grasp could crush him even more than that man’s beatings. The trembling grew stronger and his knees began to give in. His eyes still fixed on the endlessness of the dark sky, he slowly staggered backwards, until he hit the wall. A sudden, unreasonable fear of dying – mortality, another one of those big words he had seen in books but never really understood – overwhelmed him. He wasn’t endless. Breathing too fast, he slid down the wall until he sat on the cold, wet ground. The heavy rain had ceased and here and there, the thick clouds parted, revealing pitch-black darkness. And tiny, bright spots shining with a cold, twinkling light.
Stars.
So there was something up there, somewhere. The phrases their father had forced them to learn from the book appeared in his mind. When there was God, he was in this endlessness. A creature he couldn’t grasp in a place he couldn’t grasp. Somewhere between those cold, illuminated spots behind the clouds. His head began to hurt. Thoughts like these were too confusing, too abstract. Meaningless. Like him. Like their mother and father. And if he had to die, they would die, too. He would end them. Slowly, his thoughts came back to earth, back to the house, the wall. The soft, wet earth under him. Forcing himself to look at the trees in front of him, Mike got back to his feet, standing upright again. Endless or not, with so much sky there had to be more around him than a basement and a few trees and bushes, and he would find out about it. Once he would have gotten rid of the damned collar, once he would have killed those who held him back, he would simply walk away and see what would happen. He shivered more violently – the cold crept through his body. His clothes were wet and stuck on his skin and the chilly wind hurt in his throat and lungs. He thought of his bed, his blanket, how often he had been cold and uncomfortable, but now he felt like he was freezing. If Gabe were with him, they could warm each other. Gabe… he wished they could just lie down, feeling warm skin… angrily, he began to tug and pull at the collar. The chain tightened around his throat as usual, but he didn’t stop. His short fingernails scratched over the small lock. The surface was slippery and he couldn’t get a hold of it. His nails splintered, the few drops of blood feeling warm on his cold skin.
The pain in his fingers wasn’t very bad, he was used to worse, but it helped him calm down.
So what if he had managed to free himself, against all odds? Nothing. Before he would go and find out alone if there was a somewhere to go, he’d rather stay. A last look at the sky – somehow, the terrifying magic was gone. Endless or not, that wasn’t that important after all. He had to wait for his brother’s return and tell him what he had seen. Mike hurried back to the cellar window and climbed down.
No more wind, no more rain. Instead, the old, familiar wall surrounded him. Their room seemed so small now, but also oddly comforting, as Mike admitted reluctantly to himself. Weariness overwhelmed him when he sat down on his bed, his head feeling strangely heavy and empty. However, he pulled himself together and moved the bed back to it’s usual spot, so nobody would notice it had ever been moved at all. He slipped under the blanket of Gabe’s bed, burying his face into the hard pillow. The faint scent of old fabric, dust and his brother relaxed him, and he forgot about the still open window, and the planks that were scattered across the floor.
*
Less than two hours later, both brothers sat on their beds, staring silently at their feet. The scornful shouts of their father had turned into muttered curses and insults while he busily bricked up the window. Blood dripped from Mike’s forehead where his father had smashed him against the frame of the bed. Before he had beaten the boy up using one of the now useless boards. A last hit with the fist had been strong enough to break the skin of Mike’s lower lip. The man’s rage hadn’t vanished at this point, but there was a more important matter to resolve – the window. While his anger hit the older twin at its full force, his wife had carried bricks, a bag of cement and the necessary tools from the garage to the basement.
From the corner of his eye, Mike saw how the world behind the glass already brightened. Within the next hour, grass, trees and the sky were shut out for good. Even if he tried to tear the new wall down, it wouldn’t be of any use. Once the man was finished, he would go outside and repeat the procedure, as he had told their mother, not caring if the boys heard him or not. Both their mother and their father had pale faces and dark shadows under their eyes. So Mike hoped they would be too tired to deal with him and his brother later, when they were done with the window. When they were finally gone, he couldn’t help looking at the window, his brain still processing what he had seen and felt when he stood in the rain. His clothes were still wet and he was cold. Thinking about that, he finally turned away from the new, stronger barricade.
“What?!” he asked impatiently when he noticed his brother’s stare. Gabe didn’t answer, he only kept glaring at his twin. Mike decided to ignore him, distraught by his twin’s expression though. He seemed… angry? Anyway, if he was, he should just say so, was Mike’s conclusion, and he began to talk, mainly to end the uncomfortable silence.
“Gabe, I was outside and… boy, it was… I dunno, I can’t explain, it was just… so…” His search for the right words to explain his experience ended abruptly. Gabe’s attack was unexpected and both boys crashed down onto the floor when the younger twin tackled Mike.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Mike shouted, shielding his face with his hands when his brother hit him with his fists. “STOP THAT!” Quickly, he seized Gabe by his wrist and pushed him away.
“YOU WANTED TO LEAVE!” The shrill, panicking voice echoed in Mike’s ears.
“NO, THAT’S NOT TRUE!”
“YOU WANTED TO LEAVE! YOU WANTED TO BREAK YOUR PROMISE!” Gabe yelled and coughed when he forgot to breathe. His harsh, loud voice changed into a weak, desperate wailing. Now he grabbed Mike’s hands. The chains of their handcuffs clashed with a jangling sound. Mike’s back began to hurt again, and he became aware of their position – he lying flat on his back, Gabe sitting on his lap, crying. The chill from earlier that night still hadn’t left his bones, and the warmth of Gabe’s body was turned into an intense, burning heat. Away… he had to break away…
“Come back to me…” The whispered words brought Mike back from his panicking thoughts. “Idiot, I am here, are you stupid?” he retorted, partly reassuring, partly mocking his twin. “I came back, because I didn’t want to leave you behind, dumbass.” he added more sharply than intended, avoiding his brother’s gaze. His eyes focused on Gabe’s throat. The white skin was covered with purple bruises. The chain hadn’t caused those - they had the shape of fingers. That man again. That man who had been all over his twin, touched him, strangled him. The same man who hurt his brother in a way that Gabe refused to talk about. Mike hated him, because he hurt his brother and because he felt jealous without even understanding why. Bruises. Probably not only around Gabe’s neck, but also along his spine, on his hips… Mike’s thoughts dissolved and his mind filled with a painfully bright red and absorbing darkness. Not knowing anymore what he was doing, he jumped up, pushing his brother away from him. The younger twin rolled over the floor, taken by surprise by the sudden reaction, and crashed against the wall. Mike didn’t give him the chance to recover and pinned him against the hard surface just when Gabe had gotten back to his feet. There wasn’t enough chain between his hands to allow him raising one hand while holding his twin down with the other, but his still muddled brother didn’t even try to dodge him. His face distorted by blind anger, he lunged out at Gabe with both hands. The younger twin didn’t flinch or close his eyes when the fist came closer and finally hit the stone next to his head. “Dammit!” Mike howled, striking and hitting the wall again and again. His left hand and the chain were dragged along by the blows and brushed Gabe’s face, but not strong enough to hurt him. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” Finally, he stopped. Out of breath, his right hand and arm hurting so much it made him cry, he leaned forward, his forehead resting against Gabe’s.
“Don’t leave me.” The younger twin’s voice was steady, not demanding.
“Of course not.” he sobbed at once. His hand hurt horribly, yet not enough to fully distract him from his anger and desperation. Soft, warm fingertips stroke his throat. Mike knew, this was the closest thing to a hug under these circumstances. He felt pathetic. Although his brother had to suffer from their father so much more it was like he, Mike, was now comforted. Surprised by something warm touching his face, he backed away from Gabe. “You are bleeding.” His twin’s lips were covered with Mike’s blood. Of course, the wound from before, when their father had punched his face. Another storm broke loose in his head, less of the cold fury this time. Only desperation. Ignoring the warnings his mind screamed at him, he shoved his twin against the wall for the second time within a few minutes; pressing his mouth on Gabe’s, tasting his own blood. His injured lip hurt and he didn’t really know what he was doing, but it felt good, and his brother didn’t fight back. So it wasn’t wrong. His hands were shaking when he touched the face that looked so much like his own. Startled, Gabe gasped for air, opening his mouth. Mike shuddered, and before he could stop himself, he let his tongue slide over his twin’s bottom lip. Growling lowly when Gabe responded by mimicking his insecure movements. His hands reaching around Gabe’s head and - pulling him closer - Mike demanded more, deepening the kiss. Running over smooth teeth, his tongue greedily brushed over Gabe’s. He felt his twin’s body shivering and moved even closer, pressing their hips together. Even if his ideas what he really wanted or where this was leading were more than rough, he knew that this was good.
“Like him…”
Startled, Mike halted and took a step back. He almost hadn’t understood the faint words. “What?” Now his twin looked confused.
“You said ‘like him’, what do you mean?” Mike prompted impatiently, already beginning to guess the answer, dreading to hear it.
“I did? Don’t know…” The confusion slowly disappeared from Gabe’s face and Mike could see how his brother realized what he had been thinking. The younger twin lowered his gaze; Mike’s eyes followed and stopped at his groin. “Dammit…” Hard again, as so often over the past weeks when Gabe had slept too close to him. “It’s like him,” his brother repeated.
“I’m not like him!” Mike yelled back, irritated and self-loathing by the very thought he might resemble that man in any way. He raised his hands, ready to attack Gabe, and lowered them again. “Dammit…” he cursed once more, turned around and threw himself on his bed. His brother joined him, wrapping his arms and legs around Mike as close as possible. “I’m not like him, not at all!” the older twin insisted stubbornly, desperately fearing he might be wrong.
“I know.”
A shudder ran down Mike’s spine when Gabe’s teeth bit along his neck not all too gently. The pain relaxed him. “Never say I am like father again, Gabe. Never!”
“Okay.”
Mike sighed, unable to extinguish the heat he was still feeling in his body with his brother biting and licking the sore skin of his throat and his arms around him. “I’m sorry… I just don’t know…” He coiled himself up and tried to break away from his brother, but Gabe held him back. “But I know…” Before Mike could ask, he cried out when teeth finally broke through his skin. A hand glided over his hip. “You - that’s okay. But promise again you don’t leave me.”
Mike inhaled deeply; thin fingers found their way under the waistband of his shorts, making him shiver despite feeling warm as they touched his skin. Instinctively, he moved closer to his twin. The bounds hindered the hand’s movements and Gabe’s left arm pressed uncomfortably against Mike’s back. He turned around, facing his twin. “Told you, I won’t leave you behind. Hey, what are you…” he began to protest. Gabe, finding it easier to use his hands now, had opened his brother’s pants and shoved them down. “You need that, right?” The cold metal of the cuffs around Gabe’s wrists moved against Mike’s stomach as the younger twin’s fingers began to stroke him gently. Feeling the surprisingly sure touch along his sensitive, tensioned skin, the burning heat rushed from his groin through his whole body. Unknown. Too good for words, but still not enough. Seizing his brother’s face with his hands, he hungrily licked over Gabe’s lips until the younger twin opened his mouth. Mike’s tongue slipped in at once, and, a bit hesitant at first, Gabe answered the kiss. The older twin’s mind stopped thinking and the hot feeling took control of his body. He moaned lowly, his hands moving over Gabe’s heaving chest, gliding over his stomach. Hectically, Mike unbuttoned Gabe’s shorts, his fingers searching.
“Doesn’t work…” his brother muttered almost unhearably as Mike refused to interrupt the kiss. “Why not? You never feel like…wanting…something… this…?” Mike answered under his breath, chewing on his brother’s bottom lip roughly yet playfully. “Never. He says it’s not for me.” Gabe fell silent, his movements halted. “I’m filth. Not meant to be loved and feel pleasure. He says.”
Mike didn’t want to hear about that man, not now. More aware of what he was doing and feeling, he slowly pushed Gabe’s pants down, just enough so they were out of his way. A bit unsure but determined, his hands began to imitate his twin’s movements. Quickly becoming more confident when he felt the reaction as the softness under his fingertips soon vanished.
Gabe gasped, his bright blue eyes widening. “See, he’s a liar,” Mike whispered with a grin, and moved as close to his twin’s body as possible, wrapping one leg around Gabe’s. The other youth trembled, his head now resting in the crook of Mike’s neck. When the older twin’s slim fingers began to glide along both of them at once, Gabe gave a soft, whimpering sound, causing another shiver down his brother’s spine. Mike was in control now, tasting salty sweat when he licked along Gabe’s throat. The muscles in his body tensed and his spine stiffened as all his blood seemed to rush into his groin. An almost painful, low cry from Gabe, feeling his twin’s slim frame shivering against him were too much. Mike groaned, the heat in his lower body exploding, tingling flashes, not unlike electrical shocks, flashed through his nerve lines. Then it was over. Breathing rapidly, he felt his still trembling brother’s head lying heavily on his shoulder. “What the…?” Surprised, he drew back from his twin and flinched as he stared at his hand in confusion. Gabe followed Mike’s gaze and shrugged. Unimpressed, he angled for the blanked, pulled it up and wiped his brother’s sticky hands clean. “Happens always when he’s done.” He bit on his lip and all of a sudden, his eyes filled with tears. “Hey, crybaby…” Puzzled by the sudden change of mood, Mike reached for his twin’s face and pulled him down. Gabe pressed his face against his brother’s chest, his chained hands clenching to the shirt, and cried. Mike didn’t say anything; his hands unknowingly played with his twin’s hair. It had been a while – years – since Gabe had cried like this, sobbing and howling this desperately. Mike tried to think of the last time, but all he could remember was that he had been able to hug him back then. At one point, all they had done was crying quietly for a few moments, if at all.
“I want him to stop… It’s… bad. He sweats, he grunts. It hurts, Mike, it always hurts. Every time, all the time. She does nothing, just sits there! Help me, Mike, make him stop. I don’t want that…” The long stream of words was mostly muffled by sobs. This was probably the longest speech coming from Gabe since they had been very young; and the first time he somewhat talked about what was happening when he had to go upstairs. Mike couldn’t believe that his hatred for that man grew even stronger. Yet, the expected wave of blinding rage failed to overwhelm him. He was too exhausted, too sad, too desperate. As much as he wished he could say something to calm him down, it would have been a lie. He really wanted to tell his brother that he would help him. How he would kill their father the next time he would come for them. Making him pay and suffer for every time he had hurt them. Tearing him to pieces for touching Gabe in a way only Mike himself should touch him. He remembered their mother, who never said a word, never helped, never even tried to help. Although she had promised so often.
He didn’t want to be like his father, and he didn’t want to be like her.
“I’m sorry… I can’t… I want to, but can’t. When I find a way, I kill them both for you, Gabe, I promise. But I can’t make him stop now…” He, too, began to cry, despairing of his own helplessness and the pain his twin had to endure, over and over again. “But you are not filth, don’t believe him!” was the most comforting thing he could think of while he searched for Gabe’s hands and held them, like he did when they had been younger.
After a while, both brothers calmed down, more from tiredness than anything else. Gabe’s head rested on Mike’s chest, like his hands, that were still gently stroked by his brother’s fingers. “We will go away. Somehow. I almost did it. I’ll find another way…” Mike muttered, already half asleep. “Where?” the younger twin asked, more asleep than awake as well. “Outside,” was the short answer. “How is outside?”
Mike sighed, opening his eyes, trying to find the right words to describe the crushing, but also intriguing experience. “Endless and scary,” he finally began. “Big enough to go far away from here forever. We go outside and leave all this shit behind, Gabe. And he’ll never hurt you again because I kill him before we go.” He lifted his head a bit, wanting to see his twin’s reaction, but he only stared at the back of Gabe’s head. “Okay.” From the one word Mike could tell that his brother wanted to believe him, but couldn’t. Again, they were silent, and Mike listened to Gabe’s breathing, knowing that he wasn’t sleeping, and probably wouldn’t for a while. After a few more minutes, he poked him. “Hey Gabe. Wanna do that again?” Lazily, the younger twin turned his head, dazedly looking at his brother. “Hm?” Mike grinned. “Ya know, like earlier. You liked that, too, right?” Gabe sat up, gazing at him. “You want to?”
“If you want?” Mike retorted, and Gabe looked at him thoughtfully. Finally, he shrugged. “Okay.” Rolling his eyes, Mike grabbed his twin by the collar and pulled him down, into a demanding kiss. Unable to keep his balance without his arms free, Gabe fell onto his brother’s body, who wrapped one leg around him. “Okay,” the younger twin repeated, sounding appreciably less indifferent than before.
***
[[Part6]]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m77l7a7xrX1rvxzbro1_500.jpg)
Story by Ligeiamaloy // CoverArt and CBS Twins by BlastedKing//
[[Part 1]] // [[Part 2]] // [[Part 3]] // [[Part 4]]
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1957
Gabe was with him again. At some time during the morning, not his mother had come, to bring them something to eat. No, only the old bastard. To take Gabe with him. So it was Saturday. Lying on his back, facing the ceiling, Mike threw an old tennis ball and caught it again. The mother gave it to them, so they wouldn’t be too bored. How fascinating.
Photo reblogged from BlastedKing with 40 notes
Story by BlastedKing
Beta by Kirschenwasser (aka… rewritten by Kirsche xD Thanks again honey )
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