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Brotherly Relations

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Mirath

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“I can't believe dear little Charles fell for that!"

John's cackle echoed through the abandoned warehouse, the long-haired man strutting through and pretty much 'peacocking' with his chest thrust out obscenely, acting quite as if he was trying to impress someone. Of course, he was arrogant to a fault and he only acted the way he did because he was completely and utterly inundated in the belief that he was the most important person in the room at any given time, regardless of who or what else may be there. He was impressive and he did very much indeed deserve to have all eyes on him, which was sometimes a problem for someone walking on the wrong side of the law. Regardless of everything, he wanted to be seen even when he, really, should have been aiming for a little stealth.

His younger brother (the middle brother of the three), Donnie, plodded along behind him, although it was not much of a plod with his long legs and his slender frame appearing oddly elegant even in a shirt that had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The slim-fit jeans were not chosen for any sense of style but he did hold a sort of 'techie' air about him, which was quite apt considering where his criminal activity was the most prominent. He frequently proclaimed, when he did talk, that was, that there were so many people in the world with more money than they knew what to do with that he was simply doing them a favour by taking a little of it off their hands. After all, he knew just what to spend it on when they, surely, did not.

All three brothers were of the same mind and manner, not really ones to talk about their early years but turning to a life of crime due to a sense of self-centredness and laziness that was passed down to them swiftly and surely. Why work hard when crime offered an easier alternative – an even more exciting alternative sometimes too? Sure, one could go skydiving or something for an adrenaline high but Charles' joy rides came free of charge and he did occasionally leave the nicer wheels he found for John to find later, stumbling across them with the tank empty and rubber burned but still usable, if he so had the energy or presence of mind to take them for himself.

It was a game of sorts between them to see just how far they could push their illicit activities, the oldest and youngest taunting one another with daring acts that could, just about, skirt the public eye. But they had to, in their own way, find something to entertain themselves with – at least, when the criminal underworld wasn't causing them bother and trouble that they had to actually get up and address for themselves. And that was exactly what had happened to John at that time, although he would have, of course, professed with great personal affront that he had done absolutely nothing wrong at all and was being very wrongfully targeted.

The warehouse was stifled with a dry, musty odour as if someone did come through from time to time but did not do all that much to keep all in check, the wooden boards dirtied and stained between the concrete blocks and pillars that gave the building some semblance of a framework. Cars lined it and nothing else bar a few wooden crates that may or may not have been used for something criminal at some point: they could simply have contained parts. The cars were not part of John's personal collection (not rare enough for his tastes) but there were some flashy models that would turn heads on the street, something that he was very much in keeping with the idea of. But they did not belong to him and his friend of sorts who allowed him to, occasionally, use the warehouse (for a criminal favour or two or three, of course) turned a blind eye if he took one out for a spin from time to time. Sometimes those in the hold of tentative power had to pick and choose what battles to fight, playing with favour and spending it as one would do with the literal form of money. Currency, however, had an always fluctuating bias.

Donnie skirted a shaft of sunlight, eyeing it as if he was suspicious that it held something he would not want to involve himself with, although he was someone who could have done with just a little more sun on his skin, if all was put in the light – so to speak.

“I can't believe you got yourself caught up in this," Donnie muttered, his lips seeming to shudder but not managing to force away his scowl. “It's just like you… You don't think anything through, do you? And then you come on down here expecting me and everyone else to dig you out of your usual mess just like always, typical…"

Spinning as if personally offended (John most likely, however, was not capable of that particular emotion), John raised both eyebrows, Donnie stopping dead in his tracks to avoid walking into him. The curse that burst from Donnie's lips, however muttered, was more in keeping with his general attitude though.

“Come on, Small Donnie," John crooned, taking his hand in his typically dramatic fashion and holding it to his chest as if he was about to proclaim something more seriously poignant than familial love. “You have to do this for me, you simply have to. Why, I don't know where I would be without every single last bit of your assistance!"

The emphasis he constantly put on his words grated on Donnie's nerves – and he damn well knew it too, which was exactly why John did it to begin with. A master of causing trouble and frustration, he laughed and made a face when Donnie snatched his hand away, lips twisting into a frown. But John did not yet have the upper hand and, well, he'd made it quite clear that it was some of Donnie's tech and brainpower that he wanted on this particular job, tilting the control, strangely, back in the direction of the younger of the two brothers. And he would have found himself very much amiss to not at least attempt to take advantage of that, just a little, while the ball rested in his court, however temporarily.

“And why, pray tell, must I do this?" Donnie shrugged, eyebrows raising. “You haven't given me any reason you can stand by yet, John, and I'm bored of this now. It was entertaining to send Charles off on the grunt work, the ridiculous side that would have been a complete waste of time for you or for me, but what's in this for me?"

“Why… My dear, dear Donnie…"

And then John grinned, the flashing white of his smile in a face that was, perhaps, still a little too pale and in need of just a touch of sunshine, spreading his hands out genially although there was no sense of giving in his posture and frame at all. His hair flowed loosely around his shoulders, not quite as groomed as he usually was, and Donnie's breath noticeably caught in his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing as, without thinking, he shuffled back half a step. Such a small action should not have had any effect at all on what was going on between them, the words left unspoken the most powerful ones at all, but even he would have found it impossible to deny just how his chest tightened, something stirring far deeper within him as, irrevocably, their power dynamic shifted once again.

“If you don't do this, Donnie," he said darkly, smile fixed and pointed. “I won't give you what you want. And you still want it, don't you?"

Donnie held his breath actively, not trusting himself even to breathe as his heart rate leapt into overdrive, the pulsing pound and drive of it making his palms sweat even as the charismatic John smiled as if pleasantly. There was no mistaking the tapping of his foot, however, the rap-tap-tap of the sole hastening and hustling him on to give the only answer that, truly, John would have accepted from him in the first place. It was, of course, the sort of rule and presence of their relationship that was unwritten but they still had to go through the dance regardless, or else they'd find themselves actually in a position where they'd have to stop and consider their relationship a little more seriously. And that was hardly something that either of them wanted to do – not when it was, well…

Donnie pressed his lips together, affecting as nonchalant an air as was possible for him. Despite everything, he had to play it cool, no matter just how his heart pounded and he shifted his weight from one edge of his foot to the other, taking the weight mostly on just the one leg. Casual to the last, he sighed heavily and threw his brother a look that told more than the words that followed.

“I guess…"

He huffed as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders, puffing out his cheeks with air and avoiding John's eyes pointed as he watched motes of dust swirl in one of the shafts of sunlight, birds up high cawing and rustling; they must have built a nest up in the rafters at some point. That would annoy John's friend to no end but it wasn't really Donnie's fish to fry or battle to win and the city and the job ahead called him on, not to mention the little promise of his brother's that made him want to forget all about the job completely and get right onto altogether more fun matters himself…

Of course, there was far more to be said but John had work to get done too, which was strange enough for him but they had to get down to it sooner or later. He smirked and ripped the cover off a car with a flourish, revealing a jazzed up white Supra of a year that Donnie didn't particularly care about, although the engines and inner workings of did, at least, hold some appeal and interest for him even if he was not so easily swayed by something flashy. It was one, he could assume, that was difficult to get hold of in the country, judging by the tiniest of sighs that broke the barrier of John's lips, his fingertips tracing a path over the hood as if he was suddenly reverent of one of the few things that could, just barely, hold his attention over himself.

He surveyed the car with pursed lips, trying to calm the churning of his guts, which he, at least, hoped that John was not privy to and could not tell just how much he'd affected him. But that was, most likely, just another one of his rather futile hopes at play.

“What's this?"

John grinned and gestured at the car with a flourish that was all showmanship and came without a drop of practice: he was simply that good.

“Our ride!"

Hardly subtle, hardly classy, hardly something that was going to allow them to skim under the radar. Donnie sighed but held back the roll of his eyes with great difficulty.

It was so John.

*

Despite not being particularly interested in the Supra – John didn't even rattle on about it, expecting Donnie to know every last little minute detail that he did and be just as in awe of it as he was – the speed at which John drove rivalled Charles, their childish competition reaching its peak in adulthood. The sunset would have been glorious, glancing off the skyscrapers as if it was striving to paint them an entirely different shade than intended, if they had been one bit interested in that but it was quite fair enough to say that neither brother was at all romantic in that sense, although they could well enough have had a sense of romance in the turn that their lives had taken. It was romantic in a strange sort of way to avoid the hold of the law and do whatever the hell they wanted when they wanted to, on the run and chasing down those who served to oppose them.

In a sense, they were the perfect team.

Smirking, John leaned back in the driver's seat, elbow on the edge of the open window as the wind caused by their passage lifted his hair from his neck and shoulders as if it had suddenly become alive and quite with a mind of its own. Of course, it was a mere illusion and Donnie sucked in a breath as John boldly rolled the seat back, allowing himself more space to relax and stretch out, although his legs were almost as long as Donnie's and, in that kind of car, just on the edge of being uncomfortably cramped into a space that was too small for him to be comfortable.

Yet Donnie's eyes could not help but drop, taking a moment in which to admire the much more entertaining and interesting scenery within the span of the car, John's hips rocking up from the seat as he undid his belt with a one-handed skill that spoke volumes. It should not have been something done between brothers, much less brothers involved in the kind of work that they were, but Donnie was trapped in the passenger seat of the car, breath quickening and raking down his windpipe as he tried to suck in enough to steady himself in the presence of something altogether lewder.

It had started strangely for the two of them, something that everyone and anyone knew was 'wrong' but so much of what they did in their lives together was wrong that it had, eventually, turned into something very 'right' indeed. Donnie tried to look unaffected but he wasn't fooling John even in the slightest as he licked his lips and turned his cheek, the rise and flush of colour in his cheekbones giving the game away even as he pressed his lips, quite firmly, together. Secrets in their world could not be sealed back behind such lips, however, and John confidently rested both hands back on the wheel as his cock throbbed and plumped up, hard and full of desire, although he didn't need his hands on the wheel, of course, to control the car. No, his confidence was in that his dearest of brothers would take care of another particular kind of itch and need for him while they were traversing the entirely boring route to their destination.

John just didn't do boring.

“Quickie?"

Donnie scoffed and flipped his hand at the offer that was really more of a demand, sliding his gaze away out the window at the city flashing by, although he already knew where they were going.

“You're not that slick."

“No. But you're getting hard."

John was right, as he always was and Donnie eyed him, pushing his glasses up his nose for the effect of it rather than because they were slipping down or out of place at all. It was as if everything they did, all that they took on, was pre-meditated and arranged in a sense, a movie scene playing out as John forced the car's engine on, roaring down the main street with single-minded, driving determination.

He didn't have to do it, although it was not because John was his brother or anything like that. But the grudging admiration that had flourished between them left John well and truly on top and Donnie would not have wasted breath on denying the fact that his cock was, rather obviously, tenting out the front of his jeans too. There was no point in wasted words when his lust was already up but he still made a show of scoffing and flipping his brother off as if he was going to refuse, even though the two of them knew that he was going to give in, that his answer had already been given to his brother the very moment he got into the car with him.

Easy. Too easy. Natural, even, despite the act of incest – yes, Donnie would call it by its name and smirk at the illicit meaning, the taboo nature of what he could only take on his own shoulders. It was right and it was the right kind of wrong that stirred up his soul in the best way, although the submission of it, well… That was another kind of power play entirely where John dominated. As if John would ever, not even in his wildest, most fever-induced of dreams, imagine himself to be on the bottom of anything at all! That had made Donnie the perfect choice when they'd started fooling around and his lips had grown well-used to the shape and girth of his brother's cock. So much so that it was as simple as stepping back into his own home to take John's cock into his mouth, the rumbles and bumps of the car around him only serving to jostle him further down to take more into his mouth than, perhaps, he had initially been ready for.

“Yeah… That's the stuff…"

It was all said for his benefit but Donnie shivered all the same: John knew just how to work him over, exerting that sense and level of control that stole into his dreams of a night, turning even the worst of nightmares to seductive sensation. John could drag him out of the worst of days with just a rough, rampant session, although they were hardly things that Donnie actively thought back on, just memories that seemed to appear through his subconscious whenever they were actually needed. And that shaft felt right between his lips, allowing him to forget all about the wrongness of it, not that something like that would have really stopped Donnie in his tracks anyway. It only made it all the better to do something and enjoy it when everyone else would have gasped and said how terrible it was.

Maybe that was why John's pre-cum felt so good drooling onto his tongue as he bobbed his head slowly and languidly, his movements ever so slightly erratic as John's driving worsened, foot inching down on the gas pedal. Of course, that must have been why he drove to begin with: he was more the sort of man who would put himself in such a position that he could be chauffeured around as he pleased, too important to put himself behind the wheel if there was someone else, anyone else, present in the car with him at that time. He'd planned it all along to get his rocks off and what kind of brother would Donnie have been if he had not pushed to give him what he so clearly wanted after all that thought?

Ah, one thought could not be followed through or held onto for very long at all, his mind hazing over with lust as he braced his hand on his brother's thigh, hard with tension: it was not easy for John either to concentrate on the road while he was getting head and Donnie took full advantage of that. He had to go for the battles, after all, that he could win and a little pleasure and control was all part of the game and the challenge between the two of them, what kept them interested, at least somewhat. He slurped lewdly, acting as if he was trying to draw attention to himself, but Donnie knew with a lewd little smirk of self-congratulatory glee that sounds like that, well…they'd have his brother ramped up and needing release sooner rather than later. If he 'had' to please him, he'd sure as hell control when he got to cum from it.

“God damn it, Donnie…"

But Donnie had him just where he wanted him and chuckled throatily around his cock, the sound muffled even as he bobbed his head with seemingly increasing urgency. John did not hold all the cards and the car sped up, the rumble vibrating through to Donnie's bones as he could not see just how fast they were going – he just knew that the situation was becoming ever-increasingly dire as John's proximity to orgasm grew closer and closer, feet shifting and jostling against the pedals of the manual car that required a bit more finesse than a man on the edge of orgasm truly had in his possession.

It was control and it was lust and it was, above all else, power that drove Donnie on, lips and tongue working to draw that sweetness from his brother even as his musk flooded his mouth, impossible to ignore. The wheel jerked and John fumbled past him for the hand brake, cursing fluently, but Donnie didn't care one bit about what difficulties he was having – and most certainly not as the first thick spurt of cum actually filled his mouth.

John swore and shuddered, fighting between maintaining control of the Supra and enjoying his climax, the most primal of things that a man could experience. He was not overly productive for a man and his orgasm was short and sharp and strong, filling Donnie's mouth as he quickly gulped down every drop that was offered to him. Of course, John would have demanded an orgasm off him even if Donnie had been so inclined to ignore his own lust and desire but that was by the by as Donnie managed to heave himself back up in his seat with what he hoped, at least, was a cocky smirk on his lips, tugging them up on just the one side as he appeared just a little too smug and pleased with himself for John's comfort. He patted his brother's thigh condescendingly, John's cock slowly softening in a gleam of saliva and remaining semen.

“Pent up?"

John rolled his eyes.

“Shut up."

Just another game to them. But it passed the time well enough as Donnie surveyed the street, bracing himself back in the seat as John screeched to a halt outside a swanky office building: a block that should have been composed of several different companies all under the control of a single, global empire. It was the head office, of course, where all that was of any importance in a tech empire went down, in every news headline of late and then some. Donnie scowled at the sign, although the name was one that only served to bring a foul taste to the back of his mouth.

Master Tech. How sublime. Not. Well, that was a bone he'd buried and wasn't all that particularly keen on digging up again, so he would do what he could to not dwell on it, following the dark shadow of his brother as he loosely tied his hair back, strands still cupping the curves of his ears as he kept the tie loose, just a scrap of leather that had, once, had some manner of meaning to him. Maybe he'd have to cut it shorter again, if it was going to go and get itself in the way when he had work to do. But that would be his choice, not anyone else's 'input' in his appearance and just how he should be.

In the front entrance, everything had been laid out to impress and Donnie shifted his weight back onto his heels as if he had suddenly become a small child who was intent on dragging their heels, pulling back and away from something that brought up bad memories. Of course, it was more the fact that he'd not been able to get in on it in its younger years and early stages, but that was by the by when it came right down to it. If he had not been drawn in himself to the languid 'employment' (hey, a job was a job regardless of whether it was a legal one or not) and the water features dotted with smooth pebbles flowing, continuously, with a supply of water – the source was hidden beneath the surface, like with so many other things – that mocked those who could not afford such gaudy extravagances. It had no purpose to be out there and, still, it turned Donnie's lips down in a frown.

Maybe that was why he hadn't made too much of a fuss when John had roped him in on the job, all to save his own back and bacon, of course. Although it had been a surprising one, Donnie had had to admit, regardless of what John usually snarled himself up in with wise comments that got his fast feet nowhere at all. It gave him the chance to have his revenge and payback nice and neatly all wrapped up, packaged and handed to him: what man wouldn't like such an opportunity, after all, to come a-knocking?

“Such a front…" John shook his head, entirely unimpressed at the display of wealth and grandiose before him. “You'd think that they'd be more subtle when they're hiding something behind the scenes…don't you think so?"

Donnie knew that if John had been in charge of such a crime empire, drugs and all manner of illegal goods passing through the hands of those beneath him in power, he would have had just the same. A lavish display of luxury that meant nothing at all, a folly that was merely pretty to look at without having any true purpose. It showed off what he had to all who may or may not have sought to oppose him, assuming that everyone was looking even if no one was.

Maybe the CEO, Jaunt, and John were not all that different after all and it was just a shame that they had butted heads when they could have worked together. Lord was just one of his cronies, someone who had thought he was higher up the chain of command than he actually was but provided a nice little lead-in to begin the start of the destruction, although Donnie hadn't considered it worth his presence to go there himself – not when Charles was so easily manipulated into stealing a scrap of tech that had all the code required to do the job and do it well to start off with.

John, however… John was different, covert with his influence and power in the 'public' eye, the one thing that he knew not to flaunt, as much as his connections and negotiations did well by him. He could very well have worked with Jaunt and they would have destroyed the city...if John had been so inclined to take what was offered to him. Of course, that would have gone against everything that John stood for and gotten him to actually get his head together to do some actual work for a change. Dragging Donnie out with him didn't really count as work, which Donnie knew well and understood, as he had quite a fair part of the deal in his own hands too, or so he thought. But he wasn't going to be so crude as to let John know what when the taste of his cum lingered in his mouth, a sense of masculine musk that could not so simply be wiped or washed away.

Those scorned, however, sometimes didn't like to leave their so-called opponents out there to plan a further attack. And that was just why Master Tech and all that went on behind the scenes had come due to meet a timely untimely downfall. Donnie smiled minutely. So sad.

John did not wait for an answer to a question that had, of course, been strictly rhetorical to begin with, striding up to the elevator doors as if he was expected: an important visitor to a place that, truly, should have been fawning over him and offering him beverages, both hot and cold, for the sheer good will of gracing it with his presence. If it had been in daylight hours, the office and building itself would have been streaming with people, whether or not they were working on the tech available or the background trafficking that it was all a front for, although Donnie doubted very much that John himself would find himself centre attention, as much as he wanted it to be so.

The lighting remained dim, emergency lighting strips glowing with an oddly blue hue along the ceiling, although the screens depicting their products and every last one, seemingly, of the achievements of the company were plastered over the biggest wall, the front foyer so tall that the main staircase, lined with glass and even more, smaller screens for those passing by, showing off all as if it simply had to be on display. Every surface gleamed, reflecting the light of the emergency lighting strips, and Donnie's fingers, inadvertently, itched to turn on the main lights and see just what this tech empire had in store when all lit up as it was supposed to be. It must have been a sight to behold indeed even if he had never really been invited to be part of it, which was something of a shame still.

No matter. He had work to do. John caught his eye, flashing him a winning grin that did all sorts of strange things to his insides.

“You did disable the cameras, right?"

Donne sighed and rolled his eyes where his brother could not see.

“Of course. But you didn't check until now."

“That's what I've got you here for."

And that was true, as objectifying as it was. John didn't need arm candy to make a statement or to show off a possession but sometimes Donnie felt as much on display as the gadgets that the company was proudly displaying and proclaiming the features of. That was his own mind working against him, however, and he couldn't let his naturally scatty brain jump about so much, for there was still work to be done, something to be taken care of so that he could go back to his nice, quiet sort of life. Maybe he'd lift the bank account of someone else high-up in the tech industry just to make himself feel better again about the whole thing, everything being a bit of a sorry ordeal.

A place like that had to have security but Donnie had had another contact of his scope it out beforehand. Guards were not so much guards at a place like that but hired thugs but they had been easy enough to buy off and replace, even if a little force had had to be utilised in strategic locations. The ones remaining simply thought they were short-handed that night and could easily be spotted in the break room, commiserating about the layabout slackers that had left them high and dry that night. Donnie had let himself into the security room lined with cameras and into the system itself without pausing to think, everything coming together nicely, just as he'd always known it would.

“So…" John whistled, eyeing the cameras. “Nice tech. You jealous? And how long is this going to take?"

Donnie rolled his eyes, shoulders slumping as he sighed lightly.

“Slow down. Your impatience will get you killed."

Yet he knew that he could be slow, as slow as a man trudging through a pit of sticky molasses, dragging out the moment as he tapped into the system and performed all of his usual checks. No surprises was the name of the game but it was a fun enough game too to see his brother shift and jostle himself, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as his impatience grew and grew more and more with the passing of each and every second. No, he was not a patient soul at heart and that was something that Donnie would always enjoy toying with, even if he had done it the most when they were much younger. But that time was long past and he was not one for dwelling, as much as the thoughts liked to rise up to the forefront of his mind as if they wanted to highlight to him that, one day, he would have to address the issue of their past.

But not yet. Not quite yet. There was so much more to be done, to be taken care of yet, more tinkering to be done, making light of the work he did on systems, a hacker at heart and someone well-versed in the intricate nuances of cyber-crime. John puffed out his cheeks with air and dramatically sighed, drawing attention to himself once more as Donnie chuckled lightly, swallowing his mirth down into the back of his throat.

“If you disabled the cameras, why can we see them here?"

“The cameras are offline, no one can see your mug," Donnie shot back – how dare he question? “But you want to see where the guards are at before heading on up to get this show on the road, don't you?"

Grimacing, John turned his back on his brother, eyes on the door.

“I haven't got the time for this."

And then he was gone, long legs stepping out in a stride that put many men to shame, covering the ground so swiftly that he was gone before Donnie could even mutter a curse, the glare of the cameras feeding back to the many screens in the small, cramped, dark room reflecting off his glasses: how annoying. Why couldn't John exercise just a scrap of patience? Donnie rushed, fumbling his way as quickly as possible through what he needed to do, setting up the alarm systems to come back online as soon as they would be good and gone, cameras with false footage – the whole nine yards. It was not as if he needed to cover their tracks quite so well, considering who they were working for, but Donnie was nothing if not efficient, keeping one eye on John through the cameras as he hustled his way through the building.

So impatient…

John, however, had quite a memory for directions, it had to be said, and he was halfway to the head honcho's office before Donnie was able to make tracks himself. He was not particularly athletic but his legs helped him along, sneakers pounding the smooth floors, carved from some fancy stone that he did not care to know the name of. What did he care for such finery when he already had everything he needed, could have asked for and more? It was not getting caught up in the rat race of modern living that Donnie sought to avoid and it seemed that he was well on his way to not having to even 'work' in the criminal sense of the word for very many years longer. He well and truly had a very nice nest egg going on there and it would have been a shame for everything to go to pot just because he was helping out dear John, his own brother…

But he had to move quickly to catch up and he found John at the elevator, haplessly bashing the buttons and cursing fluently as he struggled to get it to work. Only then did Donnie slow to a long-legged walk, brushing his hair back from where it threatened to come loose once again. That too was just another little annoyance to be dealt with but he'd have to, one way or another.

“Need some help there?" He drawled, one eyebrow lifted. “Maybe this will help…"

With one hand, for the other held a truly precious cargo that he just had to ferry a little bit further, he swiped the key card to allow access through the access point beside the elevator doors, the electronic pad turning red as the doors slid open. Grinning widely once more, John shoved his shoulder and dragged him in, mashing the button that would take them all the way up to the very top floor: the one place that they so very desperately needed to be.

“You saucy devil…"

As the elevator shot up, John smirked and pulled his brother into a kiss, the move surprising even Donnie, who very nearly lost his grasp on the USB stick in his hand. He didn't trust himself to tuck it away into a pocket when they were so very close to their end goal, the grand prize of the job that he'd been roped onto, and he kissed his brother back just as passionately without even thinking, losing himself in the moment as their bodies pressed up together as if on the precipice of something all the more intimate.

The doors closed as they shot up and up, the elevator itself seeming to move with haste as their hearts hammered, adrenaline turning nerves to lust as they worked together – so well too. They could have been lovers, if not for being brothers, but perhaps it was a better kind of relationship still that they had between one another for being family with some kind of benefits, although who knew just how far they'd be willing to go. With how they acted, they'd been mistaken for boyfriends out in public and Charles had some vague idea of what was going on (he just didn't care to know what they were into or up to) but nothing had ever been defined. For those who lived their entire lives undefined, it really was the perfect sort of relationship that, coincidentally, also lay outside what the law wanted of them.

Jaunt's office resided ahead, however, like the final level, the boss battle to rule them all. Donnie brushed off the thought that perhaps he'd gotten a bit too wrapped up in his last video game, pressing on with the little USB stick that held the key to success pressed almost painfully up into the palm of his hand, held there through a pincer-like force from his fingers. The office had no further security: a rookie error. Sometimes it was a wonder that crime bosses and the like got very far at all with how dismissive they seemed to be of security measures, although he probably supposed that the elevator and cameras and guards and the fact that no one else should have even known what was going on there would be enough. True, there were things in place that would have stopped most people (not to mention the nifty little trap on the fourth floor that Donnie had taken the initiative to disable in advance) but Donnie was far, far from most people.

“So… This is it. Is it everything you've ever imagined, brother?"

Scoffing, Donnie would have rolled his eyes if he was not busy sweeping the door and immediate area for bugs, the scanner in his hand flashing green, although he'd never enabled it to beep. That sort of thing was what would give them away in the very worst of situations and had been the downfall of many others, he presumed, who had been so callous as to go for something for aesthetic purposes only.

“As gaudy as I thought…"

The door rose before them, glass that was surely bulletproof but also frosted so that one could only see a blurry image of what lay on the other side: the semblance of privacy even if all could not be hidden. It was an oddly fitting nuance considering their aptitude for technology and the like, even though all that was swiftly to be crushed beneath their boots.

Only when he was quite ready did Donnie nod to John and enter the office, although he could not even bring himself to catch his breath in adrenaline. For once, it felt as if all of the groundwork had been good and well enough done, everything laid out beautifully, and he could relax in the scope and shadow of one who would, most likely, take the credit while he was repaid tenfold in private for his assistance in the matter. It was not an overly bad deal by far: like a virus, a programme in cyberspace, Donnie skimmed under the radar of what caught the public eye. And that was just how he liked it and how he wanted all to continue.

Everything about Jaunt's office oozed sophistication, although it all rang of a sense of being just a little too 'staged' to be real. It was quite clear to a discerning eye that he neither lived nor worked nor spent the majority of his life in that office, all simply a farce as Donnie slipped into the plush desk chair by the several computer screens, all of them black. If he had not known better, he would have wondered himself if they were even hooked up to anything but, of course, he was a man who had most certainly done every last bit of his research.

Plugging in, he got to work, fingers flying across the keyboard and his trusty little memory stick holding so very much that it was impossible to understand the entirety of the programme he had created from scratch. Of course, John wouldn't be able to understand the nuances of it but he well enough understood the importance of it, even if he was arrogantly careful to step back, hands thrust deep into his pockets as he quietly admired Donnie at work. His hair pulled free of the tie as he hunched over, appearing shockingly angular as his chin jutted down, eyes intent on the glare of the screen amidst the otherwise solely emergency lighting. He preferred to work in the dark but that was not something that he'd ever told anyone else and likely never would either.

It was no wonder his grudging respect for Donnie was in such full force as he worked, his presence not truly needed even if he'd felt that he had to be there, simply because he always was. If John did not involve himself, even in a scheme to save his own hide, all may very well go on without his existence and that was something that he could not have at all. It was not because Donnie at work drew a rise of need to his crotch, lust rising even as Donnie leaned back in the chair and sighed, what he had set out to do, at least for the moment, complete.

“There… Now it only has to run. You got a smoke on you?"

“Is this going to take long?" John said, ignoring the question as he scanned his eyes around the office. “Can't hang about for too long here…"

“Why, got a hot date, have you?"

Donnie's joke was timed just right and even John, strangely so for him, had the good grace to merely chuckle, although his eyes darkened swiftly, lips pressed together in the most sincere of smirks that drove Donnie's heart to leap and pound oh so very erratically. Ah, their relationship may have been mockingly tenuous but there would always be something about the other that drew them back together in all of the wrongly right ways over and over again.

“Yeah…" John advanced, step by threatening step, Donnie's heart skipping right up into overdrive. “You."

He could have said something, told John to get stuffed, to fuck off – anything – and yet he could not draw the words to his lips as his guts twisted and churned with raw need. Although he'd, of course, gotten John off in the car, his needs were still unsatisfied, desire throbbing up within him as if it had only been heightened further by his focus and work, the job at hand currently in limbo while all they could do was wait.

He tried to get up but then John was up against him, the eerie flicker of the computer screen glancing off his skin, his features cast into jagged, sharp shadows, the monster of the night made incarnate in the thudding beat of Donnie's heart. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, but neither did he want to move, to flee or to run when it was that very dark soul that made such pleasure rise up inside him, simply demanding to be tamed and sated at any cost.

“How long's that thing got to run?"

Gulping, Donnie shook his head, glasses tipped askew.

“I… A while yet…"

But he did not get the chance to say anything more to that as John was suddenly on him, bearing him back against the desk as his hardness pressed up urgently against his stomach through his brother's trousers. Donnie could not help but respond in kind, groaning as John's teeth caught his neck – more of a bite than a nip but there was hardly any way in which to tell the extent of the 'damage' caused there as two hands closed on his throat.

Panic set in, a purely instinctive reaction s his eyes automatically bulged, body flailing and fighting, hands battling uselessly at a pair of strong yet bony wrists that seemed to resist even the most stringent will of his fingers, grasping and twisting. He opened and closed his mouth, gaping like a fish out of water, pain lancing through his throat as his body fought and struggled for air, although his mind, somehow, knew that he was not in any real danger. If there was one thing John was not, it was a murderer, but he was most certainly a fucking arsehole when he wanted to be.

Words would not leap to his lips as he thrashed on his back, kicking out and slamming the heel of his shoe into John's thigh, although it hardly seemed to faze him in the slightest, leaning over him to keep his back on the desk. And despite the pain, the desperation flooding his lungs and his mind, all Donnie could focus on was just how good those hands felt on his throat, pressing and clenching as his cock rose well and truly to the occasion, the hard and throbbing rod seeming to demand attention for itself, regardless of how neglected it could be under any normal circumstances.

And then his hands were gone but not the bulk of his body, John standing so close that he could not help but tower over him, their groins too close together for comfort but just close enough for arousal. Donnie's chest heaved and he spat out a curse, although it was lost on his own breath as he lunged for his brother – a grab that was all too easily dodged as he struggled to regain even some sense of his own composure.

Before Donnie could form a coherent thought – dear god, he needed that man's lips on his cock – John had him down again, but the force applied was not so strong and Donnie's struggles were weaker still, energy slipping from his body as what the body thought it needed in order to survive battled with confusing, delirious submission. And that was hardly something he wanted to acknowledge for himself as his Adam's apple bobbed with a gulp that did nothing to soothe the burning of his lungs, trying to twist all into a dirty trick, bearing his knees up between John's legs.

“Now, now, Donnie," John chuckled, the rasping tone bursting from his lips even as his muscles tensed, bearing down to make Donnie squirm, pinned in place by his neck. “I thought you may be more receptive to this..."

But that didn't mean that he didn't want to struggle, to win his place and to fight for what he desired as the younger brother pressed his knee up with all the lewd might he had left in his body, teasing his brother to the point where a shudder rippled through him. Being gentle had little to no effect on John and it was only grinding on and challenging the order of things that had any result, the man in charge trembling ever so faintly as his lips parted in the breathiest of moans that he would not ever, not even on pain of death, admit to.

“Ah, ah, ah… That's not how we play the game."

Yet he could not hold him down for much longer with his own hard length seemingly trying to punch a hole through his trousers, chest rising and falling rapidly for much-needed breath. Releasing Donnie with a flourish, he posed there as if preparing to go in for the figurative 'kill', blood pumping and need up as Donnie sat up, pain throbbing through his throat and neck even though such a small thing paled into insignificance in comparison to the rampant, driving need that simply could not be denied or ignored coursing through him.

He had to have him. Or be had. Donnie sucked in a sharp inhalation, eyes half-lidded. One or the other.

“Small Donnie…"

Such a childish nickname and yet how it made his knees quiver. Chest heaving for breath that hardly seemed to want to return to his lungs, Donnie fixed his eyes on John and immediately wished he had not. Every line of the man's body rang through with power, slipping his jacket back from his shoulders. If he'd been in business attire (faux, as he would never have truly gotten himself a job that required such formal dress), he would have been loosening his tie at that very moment, a cocky smirk pulling at his lips that simply could not possibly be sealed back and away behind them.

It happened quickly, very quickly, while the programme was still running. Kissing was often deemed too intimate for the two of them and the kind of kiss that John very much preferred was one where his younger brother's lips were wrapped around his cock (the base, not just the tip). Clothes were ripped off as bare skin was exposed to the cool air of the currently unheated office but their lust would more than make up for any bodily heat they lost to their surroundings. It was just natural, so very natural, too for John to twist his hand dominantly into Donnie's hair, yanking it free from the tie and shoving his cock right up back where it belonged before his brother had even the barest of moments in which to catch his breath.

All the while, the seed that Charles had unknowingly sent into the system at one of Jaunt's cronies headquarters worked its magic, worming its way deeper and deeper, every last file and system broken and corrupted and sent right into the hands that, seemingly, could use them with far greater finesse than Jaunt himself. The tech itself would live on but every last bit of the dark empire would be left for dead and passed on for reshaping and reforming into something even better, while Jaunt himself… Well, they didn't know what would happen to him but neither did they care when they would be safe once more and out from under the shadow of his threats and pursuits.

And that was most certainly due something of a celebration as John moaned out his pleasure, ramming his cock into the back of Donnie's throat as his eyes watered, hacking and striving, desperately, not to cough and gag on the hot length of cock-meat. He wouldn't have pulled back even if he'd been free too, however, wanting it more, perhaps, than even John wanted to abuse his lust for the sake of his own sordid pleasure. It was quite clear, of course, that the both of them benefitted from the arrangement, whatever it was in its essence. Some things didn't have to be explained and the hot drip of pre-cum in the back of Donnie's throat proved to be something so carnal that he couldn't have possibly have drawn something sane and rational to the forefront of anyone's mind.

It was not for John, however, to waste time in sucking his little brother's dick and Donnie knew that too, even if he hoped for something a little more fun from time to time. Maybe another sick game could be twisted to their mutual pleasure at another time but there was not a moment to waste on wondering as John spun him about, bending him over the very desk of the man that they were in the process of destroying. Of course, there was no such thing as any sort of lube to ease his passage but that wasn't going to stop either of them from taking their pleasure as John hissed out through his teeth, bearing into his younger brother with lustful force.

“Oh, yesss…"

Gripping the desk, it was all Donnie could do to hold himself in position as he braced himself, striving not to tense up at the same time, that cock driving deep and dominatingly, needing him as much as he needed it. The pressure up against his prostate thrummed through, however, conflicting the stretch and edge of pain with sweet, sweet pleasure that could not possibly be missed as he grunted and snarled out his pleasure as if he had become a wild animal in the heat of the moment. Fingers digging into the desk, he panted as he was pounded, John hardly pausing for even a second as he slammed in, building up his thrusts just how he liked them, even though he didn't always like to be the one, at least seemingly, doing all of the work. He'd soon have Donnie right where he wanted him, however: Donnie was quite sure of it.

Maybe boredom was a good thing, Donnie thought hazily, each slam of that cock driving him forward into the table, although the soreness of the edge digging into his gut was a slight distraction. It helped him hold off, hold himself back, just a little longer, trying to show off his stamina through a sense of manly pride, not wanting to cum before his brother. Of course, that was impossible after he'd been so denied earlier that night, the stars barely glinting behind the large windows looking out onto the skyscrapers and offices of the city, and he clenched his jaw together hard, a muscle jumping and twitching in the corner – and yet he could not restrain himself when John's hand closed powerfully around his cock.

He climaxed in an instant, trying to tuck his chin down to his chest in order to contain himself, although it was hopeless as he shot a load of seed onto the carpet beneath the desk, hips working and grinding as if he was trying to actively thrust himself back onto John's cock as his programme neared its own finish too. He was not truly in control of his body though and John spat a swear that went by without notice, hammering in with strokes of his aching shaft that spoke of a far deeper desire, each and every thrust forcing seemingly yet another drop of cum from his brother's sore and rampant dick itself.

John was not a stud who could go on for hours upon hours: he was but a man too at the end of the day. He snarled, lips pulling back from his teeth and hair whipping wildly about his neck and shoulders, throwing the weight of his strong body into his thrusts for his ultimate pleasure, need tightening seductively within his gut. The edge held him there for a moment longer than expected and an unexpected gasp burst the barrier of his lips, head swirling with lust at the very moment that orgasm crashed over him, fuelled by the adrenaline high too of a job done as the programme flickered on the screen, finally complete.

There was little time for Donnie to enjoy the hot rush of cum filled his backside as John pumped him full, teeth gritted even as a ragged howl burst from between his lips, somehow. Each spurt stole a little more of his desire but he somehow managed to drag himself away from John, grabbing for his clothes and glasses, which had fallen off during the course of their tryst of boredom, the last thrum of semen landed on his backside, only to be soaked into his underwear and trousers as he hastily yanked them back up.

“Let's move!"

They were, after all, still in a very dangerous and tenuous situation and he didn't know how long they would evade the guards; those remaining would still be performing rounds and, well, human error was the most erratic of errors if they deviated from their usual, recorded times and routes. Yet there was still a heartbeat of a moment in which to share a flustered kiss, the taste of cum passed from one mouth to another as even John could not resist a moan into Donnie's mouth, dominating every last part of him in every single way.

They did not waste time hanging about after the timer had run out, the deed done in more ways than one, although John did not actively hurry back through the building that showed off so much of an empire and, at the same time, nothing at all of it. The flashy tech and possessions were all things that he would have coveted for himself, regardless of whether they were to his sense of taste and style, only due to the fact and reasoning that they belonged to someone else and, therefore he wanted them. But that splendour and carefully managed and crafted wealth was all to come tumbling down in short order, crashing into smithereens as Donnie too smirked and eyed the screens lining the staircase that was all for show.

One by one, the screens flickered off into blackness, jumping with static and a gleaming glare of a grin: a starkly white, sinister smile that would sink into the dreams of all that found it, no doubt the next day. By that time, the damage had already been done and the two of them would be long gone, another criminal overlord with an agenda in debt to John even though it had been Donnie who had, as always, done the majority of the work. There was no need to leave a trail of physical destruction in their wake as the programme had done its job and done it well, taking care of the system and administration that kept the empire running. A few choice notes to authorities too to note a technology failure that would be reported in the news before the 'business' went into planned and scheduled administration would tie up all the loose ends neatly too, leaving them out of the picture and well enough able to get on with their lives.

Everything the empire had held in high esteem, the front for trafficking and all that had caused so many problems for so many individual souls – it was gone, wiped out as if it had never existed, although Donnie very much doubted that any employees so placed to fill a slot would have been lawfully and justly employed. It was the sort of thing where everyone was in on it, even down to the lowest level of the faux company, and he relished in its destruction, darkness cast over the screens in the front lobby too where they had displayed their wares, their achievements, everything that made them a giant in both the city and the world.

Of course, John could not resist just one act of destruction – something that he could do and call his own even if it had been Donnie that had orchestrated the whole thing and even planted the 'seed' of it to begin with. He backhanded the technology – truly, it just had to be a glorified tablet computer, nothing special even though they'd made it out to be – off its prominent dais in the main foyer with a flourish and a crow of pleasure, laughing at all that they left behind as Donnie, for once, led the way back out into the dark of the night.

No one would know that they'd been there, their fingerprints unrecognised and unreadable but another record, if anything was investigated, which John was sure it would not be, that Donnie could be tasked to wipe out. He really was useful, his little, middle brother, but that wasn't the only reason that he kept him around, their unlikely partnership buoying up the two of them and pushing them on ever-greater achievements – if they could even truly be called that when they slashed through what the law laid out as just and right.

It didn't matter. None of that mattered. But they were together and nothing would stop them from simply doing as they willed. Where would that take them, neither of them could say but there was one thing that even Donnie knew with a smirk and sideways glance at his brother, taking in the patch of sky between the tall buildings that was dotted with stars, only barely visible through the light and atmospheric pollution. Just the one…not so little…thing to take note of.

The brothers were a force to be reckoned with. And they would not be stopped.

He'd make sure of it.