FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Relations in Dissonance

---

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Mirath

_ _

_ _

“Are you seriously asking me for help?"

Charles rolled his eyes and slumped back against the sofa in his living room, although it was, it had to be said, a very sparsely furnished living room. He wasn't exactly the sort for extravagances (well, fast cars would hardly fit inside an apartment now, would they?) and the only thing that his ill-gotten gains had really gone too that would have been out of place in most apartments was a security system, along with soundproofing, to ensure that unpleasant surprises could be, at least temporarily, held at bay. No one wanted to be heard through walls or the door or even the ceiling, after all, and there was far too much shady business going on in Charles' life for him to want unexpected visitors with badges and surly expressions turning up without an escape route planned. It would take a lot for them to get into his apartment, if they turned up, that was, but he would be long gone by the time that things truly came to a head.

He, after all, had no intention of going to jail for anything, despite his activities and the life that he chose to lead. No... Charles protected himself and what he deemed to be 'his' at all costs. And that was just why his two older brothers had come to his apartment, as alike in criminal activity as him and yet different in every other way bar appearance.

Frowning, Charles shook his head as he surveyed them. Just when had been the last time he'd seen them? John stood tall and smirked cockily, as arrogant as ever – the bastard. He was probably the one that Charles was most alike with his dark hair (albeit stronger in physique) but that only served to sour his expression further, turning his gaze on Donnie, the middle brother. He pushed his glasses back up his nose, although both them and the little action itself was merely for show, his hair more of a brown than a black, although it was just enough to make him look different enough to John for certain things that Charles really preferred not to dig too deeply into.

Donnie's long-sleeved shirt was rolled up to the elbows while John wore a black blazer and pants that could have been smart if not for the sneakers showing at the bottom. Expensive sneakers. There was no question at all as to those being acquired illegally, although from where was another question entirely, if not one Charles truly was bothered enough to ask. Let the fucker waste his time on clothes and crap, for all he cared. He had far more important things to worry about and distractions, at least, ran amok around him.

Donnie made a face that was something like a scowl, a man of few words and calculating scorn, although his intelligence was what truly set him apart from his older and younger brothers. More of one for crimes of technology and pushing the limits on where he could take himself in cyberspace, Donnie rolled his eyes and huffed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he eyed up John with something of a 'knowing' look that could only be shared between the two of them.

“He'll help. He's our brother."

And that was all he had to say as he turned his face away, although his eyes slid to the side, watching the scene playing out before him with some manner of interest, at least, in his peripheral vision. He may have been one to hold his words back until he truly had use for them, but he was not someone who cut themselves off completely. Shy, most certainly, was not a word that could be used to describe him.

Neither could it be used to describe John who leapt up from the sofa, a cocky grin pulling at his lips as he claimed the floor as if he was born to be there. In his mind, of course, it was his rightful place to always be the centre of attention and it was a role that he owned perfectly, seeming to dominate even Charles' sparsely furnished living room with his tall presence alone.

“Ah, Small Donnie..." John spread his arms out genially, eyebrows shooting up, almost into his hairline if he had had his black hair cut in such a fashion. “You don't know what it's like to have to ask our little, younger, brother for help. He'll think he's got a big head and all if we make a habit of this!"

Donnie frowned.

“Don't call me that."

“But you love it so much!"

Striding up with oozing confidence (though 'arrogance' was a shade more appropriate for everything he did), John grasped Donnie's arms and pulled him to him, pinning his arms against his sides with crushing, overbearing strength. As much as Donnie swore and cursed and spat out words that, truly, neither of the other brothers had the sense of mind to understand, there was little one could do to get John to release them once he'd made up his mind to be, well...very much 'John'.

“Donnie, the middle brother," he breathed, eyes burning with dark intensity. “Just what are we going to do with you?"

Throwing his arm up in the air, Charles hissed an interjection. Would they ever be done?

“If you two could cut this out now, I've got –"

“You took my card scanner didn't you?"

Donnie growled and cut in, his eyes more than enough to sear across the distance between him and his brother, John stepping back with his eyes wickedly wide and a very much not so innocent expression on his face, present in the curl of his lips and set of his eyes. To his credit, a little more refined in appearance and the way in which he held his body than his brothers, Donnie merely brushed off his shirt as if John had left some kind of residue or dirt there, throwing a simply scathing look in his direction.

“What? No..."

John fluttered his fingers, pressing them over his heart with his very best 'I have been mortally wounded by you, oh dearest brother of mine' expression plastered across his narrow face.

“Oh, Donnie, I would never do such a thing to my brother..."

Charles groaned and pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, lacking his fingerless gloves, for once. He'd have to find those. Maybe John swiped them – just another reason the bloke was a complete and utter ass when he wanted to be and often when he wasn't even trying.

“Just hand it over."

Donnie held out his hand with nary a change in his expression and, sure enough, the card scanner that he liked to use out in public to filch bank details and, of course, simply drain the bank accounts of complete strangers landed back in his hand as if it had never left. John could not keep the smirk off his face and even Donnie smiled a little, although he hid his behind the sweep of his hair, leaning back against the wall with just one hand left on the pocket containing the scanner, just in case. Not that that, of course, would stop the wiles of a truly accomplished pickpocket like the bored wiles of John but it would do well enough to keep him at bay for at least a little while.

But, of course, the brothers were there for a reason and they had to get on with that even as John and Donnie tossed the ball back and forth in their invisible little dance that no one with a good brain would dive into. No... There were some boxes best left unopened and Charles saw to see what he wanted alone as John smirked and tapped the side of his nose.

“So, yeah, back to business: if you could, like, get your little head cracking on this deal, little bro', we'd much rather be off on our way elsewhere."

Charles' eyebrows shot up as if they were going to disappear right into his hairline, an ugly scowl twisting his lips even though it was purely from family relations. And, well, who could really, truly, completely be held at fault for making a face or two when a brother was being particularly annoying?

“What, you're just going to dump your shit on my plate, is it?" He scoffed, flipping his hand dismissively. “You've got to be kidding... You get yourselves caught up in trouble and you think I'll be here to dig you out of it? Don't you think I've got better things to do? I've not got the time to waste on you two."

“Oh... Brother of mine!"

Dramatically, John slung his arm around Charles' shoulders, grinning madly as he gripped him, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises – that was, if Charles hadn't squirmed away with a muttered curse and a particularly foul look on his face. But John was not dissuaded as he spun with his arms flung wide, a look of complete and utter over the top dramatic woe plastered across his expression. Standing by the door still, Donnie groaned and pressed his fingers into the sockets of his eyeballs.

“John, for..."

“Oh, my brother has become my saviour!" He wailed, dropping to his knees and clawing his way up Charles' jacket as his younger brother tried to push him off to no avail, John hanging and dangling from him as if he was an accessory (or perhaps a leper) that could not be shaken off. “He will denounce his ways of simply avoiding the law and come to our aid in our time of need!"

He put so much emphasis and extravagant hand movements into his speech, as short as it, blessedly, was for once, that he nearly toppled over into Donnie, who shoved him off with his shoulder, although even he could not quite keep the smile from pulling slyly at his lips. The brothers were probably the closer of the three, although that didn't mean, of course, that they got along all the time or that Donnie wanted John in his lap most of the time either. Charles, however, was not entirely partial to their brand of relationship and, regardless of what he knew went on with them, most sincerely wanted no part in it anyway.

Casting his brothers a look that could have truly curdled milk, Charles shook his head slowly, even his hair bobbing lightly from one side to the other with the sway of the weight of him.

“Are you done yet?"

Standing up, John straightened his blazer and grinned. It was as disarming and charming as ever, although a particular kind of look that Charles had seen so many times over that he would have said that he at least was impervious to it.

“Just about. So, you'll do it: it's a done deal."

Charles pressed his lips together. Damn him! He always knew just how to put Charles in such a position that, well...he got just what he wanted at the end of the day.

John always got what he wanted.

“Anything to get you out of here," Charles said eventually, putting as much (which, admittedly, wasn't all that much for his usually placid and laid-back tone) vitriol as he could into his tone. “Really. Anything."

John grinned and took Donnie's arm, looping it through his with a possessive air that could not be missed. Donnie's lips pressed together just a little more tightly, tension coming together in the most beautiful of ways, muscles drawing taut as if to herald the presence of something a little more in the room. But what that something 'more' was – well, that was another question entirely and not one for a conversation and nuance of simply getting their younger brother to do their dirty work for them while they went off doing whatever it was that brothers (in arms, perhaps) did.

“So what the hell do I have to do to get the peace back and my place back to myself?" Charles demanded, drawing their attention back to him even as they made as if to go, what they saw as their job good and already done. “Who did you piss off and just who wants your head or whatever? They won't come after you, not after this, after me. So get it all out and over with, would you?"

“Ah-ah-ah," John said, wagging a slender finger at the youngest brother. “Patience! I was merely building up for the big finish!"

“Wouldn't that be the 'grand reveal'?" Donnie interjected, jostling his brother even as John scoffed. “Get your words right, would you?"

“Ah, well, you wouldn't be so pedantic about meaningless things like that if I didn't have –"

“Would you just give me back my goddamn card reader already?"

Smirking, John stepped back and held up his hands, although he was anything but innocent, as always.

“I don't have your card reader... But, coincidentally..."

Grinning, he joshed and pushed his brother, Donnie cursing and spitting words that were, perhaps, a shade too developed for the likes of John and his shady type of arrogance. He could be pushed further, of course, and would find his eloquence in speech, even if he'd much rather stand back and survey a situation, that was, for later analysis. A linguist he was not but that was hardly something that was going to stop him from finishing just what he'd set out, the joke set up right from the very start.

“...Is that a card scanner in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

“You're a dick."

“Kill the love fest you two and give me the deal," Charles groaned. “Why you have to make a deal over everything, I'll never know. That's probably why you got caught up in things in the first place, isn't it? You were lording it about and then this – you stepped in front of the wrong car and screwed up the wrong fender... Now, I'm the one who has to dig you out of the mess."

John rolled his eyes, a half-shrug completing the completely and utterly dismissive motion, although Charles had, perhaps, hit a little too close to the mark on that one.

“Ah, you don't know anything about getting into the real big game around here. Mind you, neither does Small Donnie here but that's another matter, dear brother of mine!"

With some persuasion, he cut the dramatics eventually, although his over the top attitude was something that the two brothers, who were not the perpetrators of drama, were well and truly sick of. A piece of paper and a name exchanged that would have sent chills down the spine of one not so accustomed to the crimes of the underworld and the pulsing, sickening underbelly of a city that had truly sought to eradicate those who chose to live outside the bounds of the law for many years. There was only so far, however, that one could go in the realm of trying to make a living when times and lives were tight and some could not, honestly, be blamed for thinking that it was far, far easier to cheat and lie and steal rather than take an honest living home at the end of each and every day. There was a degree of respect too between criminals that was not always present in the business world, people trying just as hard to cheat one another out of earned cash, whether or not it came easily or not, either way.

So maybe, just maybe, they were not the worst of them. Not the best, of course, but not the worst either. But none of that mattered as his security system chirped and Charles' eyes popped up automatically to the screen depicting the camera at the very base of the apartment block, recognising a figure that had, at least, been green-lit to allow up and into his apartment when he was home. Maybe that would be his downfall too but Charles really wasn't a big enough player in any sort of criminal game to draw all that much-unwanted attention. He just liked to play it safe and that cast him as somewhat of a wimp with those who may have sought to turn his little, simple life of crime into something darker altogether.

No matter. Soren was coming and the brothers had to go, go, go – and quickly too! Not that they would do anything to Soren, of course, or even seek to use him against Charles, but there was something that was the same across all families that made him break out in a cold sweat even beneath his dark clothes. And that was something that even a man engaged in as much seedy activity as he was, skirting what the law cast a shadow over, would not want to invite under any sort of circumstances.

“Alright, you two – get out!" Charles flapped his hands at them foolishly as if had all of a sudden become a housewife trying to usher her kids out to school. “Come on, I've got plans and, well, now your trouble to deal with too... And that's putting very lightly."

“What's the rush?"

Of course, John didn't really care and the two brothers found themselves chivvied to the door just as Soren knocked, knuckles rapping smartly up against it.

Rat-tat.

_ _

John stilled. Donnie cast a look at Charles, lips twisted and eyes, just ever so slightly, worried.

“Are you expecting someone?"

“Yes," Charles shot back with a roll of his eyes, hastening his words as they spilt from his mouth in a rush. “And now you two are to go and not come back. For a good while, alright? Don't make a habit of this or I will really just leave you two and hang you out to dry. Got it?"

“As if we needed more convincing... You got the deets, right?"

“What are you, down with the kids or what?"

But it was too late for him to ensure that they'd avoid seeing Soren (not that either of them was, truly, a threat to Soren) and the door swung open by the security system to reveal the blonde-haired man standing there with his hands in his pockets, weight rocking back on his heels. If he was trying to make himself look small, he completely failed, his T-shirt still pulling tight across the mass of his chest, the work in the gym that he was still able to do after work and, well, whenever Charles was too busy to take a load off his mind and his feet too. He had to keep himself busy, after all.

“Hey!"

Soren blinked at the brothers who could not, really, be mistaken for anything other than what they were when standing behind Charles on either side, John mimicking Charles' smirking, conniving grin a little too perfectly to be entirely coincidental.

“Hey," Charles answered with a sigh that was rather uncharacteristic for him. “They were just leaving."

Shoving extra emphasis onto his words instead of jabbing his hands into the smalls of their backs (he didn't know where they'd been, after all...), Charles got them out the door even with that shit-eating grin on his brother's face. Soren slunk in behind him, seemingly as wary of John and Donnie as Charles was of John and Donnie actually saying anything to Soren, for brotherly jesting went a little too far sometimes and embarrassment was still something that even a hardened criminal was, of course, capable of feeling.

Somehow, Charles managed to end up out in the hallway with his brothers even though Soren was back in the apartment, at least out of sight. And he didn't like the grin on John's face one bit even as Donnie tugged at his arm, trying to get him to leave without actually forcing him. Maybe it was the unspoken dynamic between the two of them or maybe it was just Donnie knowing that he couldn't get John to leave anyway, but something was up there and it was irrefutable that there was little, regardless, that could be done.

Sometimes the futility of his brother was the most infuriating thing.

“So..."

John exchanged a look with Donnie who sighed and ran his fingers back through his hair.

“So..." Charles ground his teeth together, clenching his jaw so hard that a muscle jumped in the corner. “Are you going or what?"

“Who was that?"

John probed, intent on following his train of thought now that it had begun, regardless of just how intent Charles was on, currently, seeing the back of him.

“Yeah, who is that, bro?" Donnie played along, a bit wicked too, to his credit. “I didn't know you had a boyfriend too..."

Charles' glare could have seared through ice and it was probably for the best that his brothers made good their escape at that point too, hustling off down the hallway to the main entrance. John, however, threw back a few loud quips about his 'boyfriend' and Charles darted back inside with surprising agility, lips twisted into the sort of scowl that only his brothers could draw from him. There most definitely was a very big reason that he didn't see his brothers about all that often.

In the living room, Soren stood with his arms crossed, not because he was angry or annoyed at anything but just because that was where he liked to keep his arms when he was resting. It did have the unwanted effect of making him look a little surlier than usual, but he did have a bit of a frustrated resting face too, which came in useful from time to time. Not because Charles needed any kind of bodyguard, of course, but it was entertaining!

“They were your brothers?" Soren said with a smile that softened his features just a bit, his shaved face making him look younger again than he actually was. “They seem... Uh."

But what could he say to that, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and shifting his weight. Some things were better left unsaid and Charles shrugged, at least thankful in some little, softer part of his dark heart that Soren understood that in part.

“Yeah," Charles snorted. “Blood thicker than water and all that... I don't see them often."

Soren shook his head and half-shrugged again. His shoulders were going to get sore if he kept on doing that.

“I get it. I'm not very close with my family either."

An awkward silence – uncharacteristic, for them – stretched between them and Charles rubbed the back of his neck, abruptly uncomfortable. Just why did his brothers have to cause a ruckus whenever they turned up? Normal families, not that he wanted anything at all like a normal family or the crap that came before ever again, didn't have to deal with that. He could have gone with grabbing a burger or something with them. Food was usually a good thing, as long as he wasn't the one making it, which was where the caveat came into play.

But none of that. He wouldn't be on the back foot anymore on his own turf and with Soren hovering about expectantly, just as he always was. Laughing lightly, Charles flipped his hand, grabbing his gloves off a hook that was supposed to hold keys beside the door. Of course, he didn't bother with keys when he was usually off jacking some car or another. And, for those, he wouldn't even keep any stolen keys as a trophy: too much evidence.

“Yeah. Maybe. But come on. I've got a job to do, no thanks to those idiots. Did you bring your car? It's a bit of a drive so I hope the radio is working this time, hellish boring without some tunes..."

Soren sighed. It wasn't going to be so much of the relaxing day that he was looking for, after all. But what more could he have hoped for, concerning time with Charles? The thickness and tightness at his crotch would have to wait in lieu of something that he hoped was just a little adventure.

What? He couldn't help that he was a man with needs too!

*

“The thing with my brothers is that they go big, regardless of what they're doing. You hear me?"

Out of the car in a shadier part of the city, Charles hummed a tune to himself, the paper denoting the details of, well, what needed to be done tucked away in a pocket. Of course, he didn't need it. Everyone knew about Lord, an up and comer who thought he was top dog in the city underworld, taking what he wanted and leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. He wasn't much of a threat, if one was watching their steps closely as it was, but he thought he was, which was, sometimes, more dangerous in itself.

Soren shook his head, following Charles with his usual, rather worried, look in his eye. The man needed to lighten up a bit, really!

“Charles, you should be doing this on your own... I'm no good here."

“What, you'd leave me out here on my own to deal with him?"

Charles hid his grin as Soren backtracked rapidly, scurrying quickly to keep up even though he was taller and with longer legs than Charles. He was a funny one... And neither did it take much to get him flustered, although Charles did suppose that going through an abandoned hospital outside the city was not the most usual and reassuring of tasks to do or places to be. He was well enough used to being in dark, dank places in the city but there was always an air that there was someone waiting around the corner, someone always not all that far away, regardless of what was going on.

The hospital creaked underfoot, although their movements weren't what made them so uneasy or even caused the noise. Charles kept a wary eye out, although it was like playing a video game, in a way, to be sneaking about through an abandoned building with clear plastic sheeting covering some of the windows, torn off on most sides and flapping in a breeze that, strangely, he could not feel himself. It was a hospital that, they said, had been used a lot in the eighties and was several storeys high, although not all that impressive either when it came right down to it, as it had been abandoned before its time. Parts had been finished and parts had been used but it was the sort of eerie, dirty building that had a history to it.

It came as no surprise that needles and evidence of blatant drug use littered the area, further cementing the idiot crime boss' – seriously, if he had to proclaim himself to be such, he most definitely was not one – position in the seedy underworld. It wasn't even a central location, one well off the beaten track of city life and surrounded by an abandoned section of industrial units that, really, were only empty because of the greed and superstition that surrounded the hospital itself. After the war, no one had really wanted to return there, even if it had not been one fought in the country: the memories haunted as well as any ghosts.

Lord... What the hell sort of name was that? Charles scoffed, eyeing up the main elevator and disregarding it. There was no reason to suspect something like that would even work. But the man, probably younger than him again, didn't even to have half a foot at all in reality with what Charles heard on the grapevine, news filtering down through the city as it did. He didn't need to be making headlines to be a threat, of course, but he also needed to be making more than a toddler's tantrum ripples. He could see just why his brothers didn't want to waste time with him when they had bigger fish to fry but it was also a petty, little, nagging thought that he shouldn't have to do what he was doing for them, even if they were family and all that. It was a pain, that's what it was, but the only thing that made the whole pain in the ass ordeal even the slightest bit better was that he had Soren's company. A friend could make a lot better and he had, even if he wouldn't admit it, warmed to him over time.

Just a bit. Not much. Just a little bit.

Soren, however, wasn't all that pleased to be out and he didn't need to say that out loud for it to come across to Charles right and loud and clear. He just knew, watching the set of his jaw and tense lines running through his body, visible even through his light jacket. Charles, of course, was just wearing his gloves for how fitting they seemed on his hands, something that was always there and would have otherwise been out of place, if so missing. His coat hung down to his calves but he left it open, knowing in all practicality that he may need to move quickly, even though he did not, by any means, predict that things would be at all difficult. He wouldn't have brought Soren along, after all, if he thought there was any danger and, well, there was something to be said about the sex after something that Soren thought he 'shouldn't have been doing...

Charles smirked. Just a touch of manipulation. It couldn't hurt. Could it?

“So..." Soren said quietly, although his voice still seemed too loud in the comparative silence. “What do you have to do here? There's someone after your brothers."

“Yeah, but not for long. He won't be about for long so it's not something that I need to go to an extreme with. They just don't want to show their faces around here. Donnie's got to keep his good looks in order, don't you know."

Affecting a voice from another place and time, Charles chuckled and shook his head wryly, although the touch of sentiment would not serve him well and, so, he pushed it away as quickly as it had shown itself. That would not do. That would not do at all.

On with the job. Who knew what floor those souls were on but he didn't have to worry about that: his part of the job was simple and easy, beautifully so. And it was an easy one indeed with a little help that his brother was likely not even aware that he'd given him in the form of a small device of terror and corruption, as innocuous in appearance as a remote control but far, far deadlier in use.

Down the stairs a level to get down the back way. Although he was sure the area was deserted and Donnie's little gift (stolen gift, that was) was in his hand already, he tapped the few buttons necessary to disable the cameras, for cameras didn't need to be on show and viewable to be in action. He would have thought that Lord or whatever was a tad slyer than that but it was better to be safe and he knew the code to punch in to do the trick.

Soren watched him, his curiosity raised even if he would not ask what Charles had (he wouldn't have honestly wanted to know). Smirking, Charles winked and tugged him out onto another floor that seemed to be set up with meeting rooms rather than anything strictly hospital related. Perhaps it was one of the floors that had had temporary patients during the influenza epidemic? Some metal beds on frames and wheels lay against a wall, one on its side, but the remnants of a hastily evacuated business teased his own sense of desire to simply know. Maybe that would have to come at another time.

“He's so obsessed with that card scanner that he doesn't watch what else he's got on his person," Charles chuckled, tossing it from one hand to the other. “And he had the tool to do the job right there all along with him... Idiot."

But whether or not his brother was an idiot or simply, perhaps, an evil genius was by the by as he headed to the only place in the whole building where any sort of electricity lay. And there he would plant the seed of his brother's design and generation, sowing distrust in the systems for just long enough to occupy Lord. He was no big boss and he would be taken down easily, even if Charles didn't all that much care whether he was about the city or not, just whether he was going to cause trouble in his own life. And that included whether he would be making his brothers whinge and complain to him half the time to. Honestly, the two of them were worse than children!

But he had what he needed to do the trick and heading into the belly of the not so abandoned building – perhaps just taken up fresh residence – would see him through. A quick code implemented into a weakness in a system that the fool himself had publicised on the rumour mill... He was an idiot and Charles was brilliant, was he not? And he was using a thieved piece of equipment to complete the job (hey, if it was a job, just why wasn't he getting paid for it?), which was truly the crème de la crème of a job well done.

“Is this going to be long?" Soren ventured, although he was not one to ask questions except when nerves prompted him. “I just... Charles, this is..."

Yet there were hardly the words for what he was experiencing, breath catching in his throat and wariness up. He couldn't keep his heart rate from increasing, licking his lips even though his mouth was far too dry for any sense of comfort. Not even Charles' hand briefly but reassuringly gripping his shoulder was going to soothe him, not that Charles was really much of the soothing type. No... He kept on just telling himself that he only really had Soren there in the first place because he had a car and, well, that was at least something to get him about when he was too busy or something to take a car that wasn't his. And, for some sense of a quiet life, he didn't really want to steal cars all of the time... He pressed his lips together, reassuring himself that there was nothing there, that it was just a convenient excuse.

Whether or not was true, however, was another question entirely as he showed Soren the little remote, letting him see it even as he pressed it up to the control panel he'd been seeking out. Lord truly was far, far too predictable... And that was just why he wasn't worried about anything, not one bit.

“Donnie doesn't know I have this but, really, I don't know why he wouldn't use it himself and get the job done quicker still. I mean, they knew where Lord was so..."

But Charles knew the reason that they hadn't wanted to waste time on something that they saw as, truly, a menial task and shook it off, lips turned down in a frown that he didn't really want to acknowledge at that moment in time. Let them do whatever the hell they wanted to do, as long as they didn't ask him to engage or be a part of it. Their infatuation for different reasons, one as different from the other as they were alike, was...

...Strange. Yes. He'd go with strange.

Let them be. They'd do whatever it was that they wanted to do and he was sick of the musty, metallic stench of the hospital already, the acrid tang of it working its way up into his nostrils in such a way that he doubted he would – not very easily, at least – be able to rid himself of it later, the cloying thickness hanging on his clothes.

“And you're sure this will work?"

Charles shrugged.

“Enough. It'll work enough. It wouldn't really do anything for someone who really wanted to hurt my brothers or me...or anyone else. But it'll keep them busy enough for me to do a few more things in the meantime."

He snorted, the gadget buzzing as if it had, all of a sudden, been infested with bees. The high-pitched twang thrummed through and Soren's fingers twitched, the man clearly fighting down the urge to pin his hands over his ears. But that would be childish and so he stubbornly kept his hands in his pockets, breath raking through his throat with each and every lungful he dragged in, pulse up and everything appearing to move in slow-motion. Even the flap of clear plastic to the side of the room, which should not have been so very integral (alas, Lord was flawed in himself and would not be memorable or back for more either) to the workings of what he'd set up, Charles knowing just a little more about what was going on than he let on.

Yet that was a conversation for another time, if it even needed to come up at all, and he pressed his lips together as he sealed the deal, a code chiming through as he gestured with a particular kind of flourish, pleased with what he well enough saw as a job well done.

“That should do it!"

Standing, he swept his arm out, smirking. What more could he say?

“Now, let's –"

“Initiating sequence."

That had not come from either of them and they stared wide-eyed at one another for the briefest of moments before a red light swallowed them up, spilling over them as if every tile in the ceiling of the hospital floor had been layered through with beams that betrayed a deeper, more deadly intent than any mere light possibly could have.

“Charles! What's going on?"

“What?" He snapped, pummelling his fist into the wall as he snatched Donnie's creation back. “Did he rig this? Fuck!"

But it was not rigged, just a wannabe crime overlord with too much time on his hands and not enough money in his pocket to really make anything of himself. The floor rumbled and they lunged for the exit, cursing as the wall itself seemed to crumble but the tremor was only blocks falling with odd strategy out of the ceiling at intervals as if Lord had been playing one too many video games. There was no rhyme or reason to it and what he'd set up, clearly, was easily dodged, although that didn't stop them from panting and gasping, curses only serving to steal breath from them that they sorely needed.

What sort of idiot set a trap like that? Although it was hardly a trap at all and Charles leapt with a giddy sort of whoop, sliding down the railings bordering the stairs as they made good their escape, a trail of crimson beams following them, although there was nothing behind them. What sort of crime boss did Lord think he was? Charles could have done a better job than him? It was all laughable, simply laughable, although Soren wasn't all that entertained at the moment, fumbling his steps and staggering as they reached the ground floor and raced for the main entrance through which they'd come. But the door slid down, the inner metal barrier creaking and grinding to life as if Lord's last wicked call to keep them trapped, even though he should have, perhaps, chosen something crueller and more intrepid if he had really wanted to rig his hideout, if it could have even have been called that.

Diving for the door, Charles yelled for Soren and he leapt with him, sliding underneath even as the barrier jammed itself down with a grinding clank, searing into the ground as if it was trying to pummel through. Newer and shinier than anything else in the hospital, it proved to be just another remnant of what Lord thought was control, intimidation that may have thrown a lesser soul than Charles but, well, he would have too had to have the manpower to back it up. And Charles was hardly one to admit that he'd been caught on the back foot, not even for a second, especially considering how feeble the attempt itself had been.

It was almost as if they'd been wanted to escape...

“Fuck..." Charles exhaled, his eyes wide at the door that had slammed down, only a hair's breadth after their heels, far too close for comfort. “What's this bastard been watching – Portal or what?"

Soren blinked, chest heaving and jaw agape, his mouth a dark hole into which one could descend, horror twisting the muscles in his face into tense, aggravated lines.

“What..." He couldn't even get out the words he needed to, heaving himself over onto all fours and hacking a cough, his lungs near enough giving up. “What... What the hell is Portal?"

But Charles was hardly going to answer that as he sprang up to his feet, jacket flying and flapping about his legs, a giddy laugh on his lips. It was funny how adrenaline could do that to someone at the point where they had, finally and justly, made good an escape and he could not help but spin in a circle, whooping for the sheer glee and release of energy. Of course, he wouldn't have done that if he hadn't already known that Donnie's tech hadn't wiped the cameras out already, although Donnie most likely would not have believed that he knew how to use any of his gadgets anyway. In a way, John was a blend of both of them, although he was his own person too and would stick to that adamantly, ignoring whatever trouble they wanted to get into or not with the big city players.

And his life was destined for a simpler time, a time where he could get on with what he wanted to do and, well, get 'done' himself in a far more pleasurable way. If he was not so close to the little big shot's lurk, he would have grabbed Soren and got his cock out right then and there, adrenaline coursing through his veins with a sense of luxury and strength that he had not had since, well... It must not have been since the last time since he'd tricked Soren out on some trap or another, letting the thrill of doing something that he really shouldn't have been doing rile up his friend until he could not help himself, growling and pinning Charles back up against a wall for the much-needed release of tension.

Charles smirked and held out his hand to Soren, still leaning back on the floor with only his torso propped up, legs sticking out like prongs from the main body of a thing. It was not his sexiest pose but, damn it, he'd be way better when he had his clothes off; that was something that Charles would never doubt or second guess, blood up and heart pumping furiously in the aftermath.

“Come on! Let's hightail it out of here! Their sorry as shit job is done and I don't want anything more to do with this hell hole."

“Jeez," Soren muttered. “You're... You know what, never mind. Definitely, never mind."

“What? Didn't you..."

But there was no time for that as they staggered up and, somehow, Soren was cajoled, shaking all the while into driving. Not because Charles could not drive but because he found a sick sense of thrill from making him do it, taking back control that had, albeit temporarily, been lost in the hospital, the sick job that his brothers had, most likely, set up for him to have a good scare from. They wouldn't have bothered with the pathetic fare of Lord and he could certainly see why in hindsight, hanging his arm out the window and letting the late afternoon wind ruffle his hair, torn loose from his ponytail as Soren ground his teeth together and broke the speed limit. Maybe it was good for Soren too.

Soren, however, stormed up the stairs, raising Charles' eyebrows and need even in the sickening, pulsing drop in adrenaline. And two bodies needed something for that even as they secluded themselves back away inside his apartment, Soren growling and near enough flouncing to the bedroom as if he was actually getting to demand and expect things from Charles himself. In a way, it was kind of impressive too. He couldn't help but be impressed, if only a little.

Just a little.

“You're a fool!"

Charles rolled his eyes, spreading his hands as he goaded Soren on, pushing him into the frame of mind that his pounding heart and throbbing loins needed, blood roaring in his ears for all the right reasons. A little job with a few complications... If he could set up a few more like that just to grind Soren's gears, he might get himself fucked real good just a little more often...

A man could but hope and, well, he most certainly could stir the pot too. Just for his own fun and amusement. Not that he didn't get something out of it too, of course. And he had to, his lips parted in a breathy smirk, hair hanging loose and prime to be pulled as he was forced down to his knees. For maybe there was a little pleasure too to be gleaned from the loss of control, even if it would take a bigger man than Charles himself to ever admit that.

“Say that with a little more attitude, Soren, those in China couldn't hear you from here...."

Yet it was not attitude that Soren needed, hands shaking as he snarled like a wild animal and flung Charles onto the bed, heart pounding like a beast trying to rip itself free of a cage that it, suddenly and abruptly, found itself trapped in.

“Are you insane?" He hissed, his tone low and dangerous, although, of course, it was merely the throbbing drive of sexual need along with the release of tension that had him so wound up – it could not be helped under any circumstances. “What you did... Your brothers tried to get you killed!"

“Oh, yeah?"

Charles' eyes narrowed, lips quirking in a smirk as he held his hands up in mock surrender, hair splayed back around his head on the bed like a dark halo. Somehow, the button on his dark pants had become undone. Convenient.

“So make me feel alive again!"

And Soren intended to do just that even if he would, at least, grunt and grumble some kind of apology for his sweet sexual aggression once they had come down from several highs later on, two bodies coming together in coarse passion. Clothes hit the floor in a pile, Soren's teeth lustfully at Charles' throat and he playfully submitted, trembling in his grasp as hot kisses and gropes were shared between them, Soren's shaft driving up into the tightness of his anal passage with, for once, a good helping of lubricant to guide him in. That was one of the benefits, of course, to fucking at home rather than out somewhere in a dank, dark alley or in the car, even: the creature comforts of home could be better acquired.

And it was worth it too for the toe-curling pleasure as he clung to the far side of his bed, which had been rammed up against the wall, blue sheets rumpled and faded from where they had gone through too many washes. It had been Soren who had forced him to get those sheets washed even though he'd not really been bothered to steal a new set: something like that was really small fry to him, not worth the effort, and no one was about to dump a new set on him for the sake of making his home life any nicer. So it was faded sheets to fuck on and that suited Charles just fine as he braced, hair spilling down around his face and shoulders, teeth grinding passionately as he slammed his hips back into each and every one of Soren's driving, punishing thrusts.

It was just what he needed, what he craved above all else, the feel of being penetrated, the pounding force of Soren above him softening to long, deep, languid thrusts that felt as if they could have gone on forever, his hips raised just enough so that his cock wasn't jammed into the bed. He hissed through his teeth, eyes rolling back into his skull, and ground back onto Soren's shaft, letting the larger, bulkier man pound him. Perhaps it would have been better, in a way, to have just gone to the bedroom to begin with but that wasn't part of the fun of it, the fun of getting Soren's heart racing to see just how hard he could go when he finally spun that cord of tension out on its course of sweet completion.

And then a hand closed around his shaft, the palm calloused as if Soren, for once, was slipping on his skincare regime: just another thing that Charles could tease him about. But he liked the feel of those rough hands on him, pumping his length as he moaned and tried to arch his back but found that he could go nowhere, trapped between Soren and the bed, just where he felt that he needed to be at that very moment.

It was impossible to hold back even as Soren humped and thrust to orgasm, anger falling away as if it had never, not really, been presented. Charles moaned out his climax, losing himself, his sense of time and place, and was swiftly rewarded for making a mess on those old, faded sheets with a load of semen pumped up directly into his anal passage, thick and full and undoubtedly heady. It spilt out of him as Soren pulled out, a mess well and truly left behind as it trickled down the backs of his thighs and dripped to the floor, a stain to remind him, later, of what pleasures had gone down there.

Ah, sucking cock and taking it had its joys but there was something still that held even more allure for Charles as he kissed Soren – not because he was romantically passionate about him or anything but simply because it felt right, right then and there, to enjoy the heated depths of another man's mouth. He may have been using Soren or he may have, simply, been kidding himself, but that was Charles' business alone as he firmly bore Soren back onto the bed in turn, his legs pulled up to expose the puckered hole of his anal ring too.

Things went both ways with them, of course, and Charles pushed Soren's legs back with his arms, hissing as his recovering shaft ploughed into him with only the barest amount of lube. They could have well enough have said that they were just the right size for one another, able to take with a nice bit of stretch too, but without causing too much trouble. Charles groaned deep in the back of his throat as he drove into Soren, the man beneath him submitting even though they were fairly evenly matched when it came to their drive for sexual pleasure. In strength, of course, Soren could have physically overpowered Charles, even though Charles was more agile...

Breathing heavily, Charles spat a curse that was from pure pleasure alone and hammered in, wondering if he would have to put his agility to the test at some point, all in the name of greater pleasure, of course. It would only be for fun, just for fun... Yet pounding Soren's tight hole made it hard to think, let along concentrate on anything else at all, and he howled out his pleasure as his cock throbbed thick and hard and drooled pre-cum, slickening his path even further for the ultimate pleasure of release. No words were needed as he shoved Soren's legs back as far as he could, physically, bend, his flexibility very much not what it could have been, but that didn't matter to either of them as they huffed and grunted like wild creatures, needing the release all over again despite having climaxed so soon already.

That was the beauty of their liaison as their bodies came together over and over again, one lusting for the other as much as the first. They needed it and the thrill of a job, an adrenaline rush, only made it all the better as Charles groaned out his ecstasy, filling his partner's hole with a load of cum that he could not help but continue to force out with each and every thrust along the length of his shaft. His thrusts could not be stopped either, jamming up against that needy match off overly sensitive nerves in Soren's backdoor passage just in time for the man beneath him to let loose with his own orgasm, shooting pearly droplets over his stomach as his cock throbbed and twitched. There could be no holding back for either of them and they heaved and panted through the afterglow, separating and sprawling as they laughed breathlessly, touching but still, somewhat, with a little distance. Just as Charles liked it.

It never did to get too close to someone but something that he could not have explained even to himself in the realm of hindsight made him grab his tracksuit pants before leaving the bedroom, dragging them on as he went, just shirtless, to get a glass of water. Or maybe beer. Was there vodka left? And when had been the last time he'd eaten? Damn, he should have ordered in takeout or something... Yet all that went from his mind, heart leaping into his throat and sitting there, tight and throbbing, as his eyes locked onto the grinning, twin forms of his brothers sitting on the sofa.

Sitting together a little too closely. But, no, he could not think of that as John made a face that could only mean trouble, their shit-eating grins too alike in a moment that Charles wished both that they were gone and that the floor would swallow him up too, just for good measure. But fantasies could not always become a reality.

Oh, hell...

_ _

“So... He is your boyfriend," Donnie said, waggling his eyebrows subtly. “Little brother... Who could have imagined that?"

“And did you enjoy our little adventure?" John chipped in, not to be outdone. “We thought you needed some time to canoodle, no?"

“Get out of my apartment!"

Brotherly love, for what it was worth, had to always go just a shade too far.

Even to get a job done.