Disorder

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

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Lust on the Wing

"I still don't know what to think about all...this..."

Donnie swallowed and traced his fingers, not for the first time, down the length of his brother's wings, feeling out the differences in the feathers, no two exactly the same. Sprawled across his bed - the bed that had been his, at least, in his lavish penthouse in the city - John smirked and rolled his eyes, hair fanned out across the pillow. Yet he was no angel there and far from it too, in fact, as he rested there, nude from head to toe, though both he and the strange kind of lover he'd found in his brother were more than comfortable with the situation at hand.

Stronger, more powerful than he had been, he yawned lazily and stretched, wings responding in kind as they extended on either side of him. It was more comfortable to let them spread out too, though they were not always present. It seemed that he could call and send them away at his whim and will, playing with demonic powers with the finesse of a child learning to walk, although it was said that that too was a steep learning curve and one that would come to light in how quickly he had to get to grips with everything. No longer was it a matter of life or death, of course, but more a matter of continuing on in the position and status that he had become accustomed to - and there was no way that John was going to fall again. The drop from life had been bad enough, not that he would ever admit that out loud, of course, and least of all to Donnie.

Donnie...

He looked down at his brother, Donnie's head on his chest. He looked so frail there, so innocent, and yet he was anything but that. He'd proven himself in his absence even if he thought he had done the exact opposite. Things were never quite that easy or that simple and that was just a fact of life sometimes. Or a face of death. His lips quirked up at his own joke but he smoothed away the smile, languishing in the moment. Moments held more importance to him now than they ever had before.

Yet Donnie was fretful, restless, shifting his weight, glancing up and then looking away again immediately, the white sheets crisp and fresh beneath them, as yet not slept on. Or nothing else either had been 'done' on them, so to speak.

"Strange to see you back here too..." Donnie murmured, shaking his head. "On this bed... Everything's different but it's the same too. It feels wrong."

John rolled his eyes. Too heavy for his liking.

"Well, I can piss off again if you like."

"Oh, shut up..."

Scowling, Donnie pulled away but was caught by a strong hand closing around his wrist, whipping out lightning-quick, the demon's reflexes far better than John's had been before... Well, just before. He wasn't willing to delve too deeply into what had happened then, though all he could say for himself was that simply having John there with him had dragged him out of the depths of a life that could have so very easily have gone south. And, for that, he would always be thankful that his own brother had, somehow, defied death, even if it was not through any course of love or the like.

"Let go."

John smirked.

"Make me."

But he couldn't and they both knew that, another little ploy and a game between them. John had always been the more dominant of the pair, even more so in the course of their relationship, yet things were to take a different turn as he brandished his demonic strength like something that had to be put on display. He bragged of it silently, Donnie cursing and yanking at his wrist, although any protest he put up was, of course, to no avail. He wasn't getting free and John laughed, exerting no effort at all in holding him there, powerless and helpless. Donnie growled, yet not even he could hide the shiver that ran through him, coursing down his spine, tingling through his extremities and parts of him that heated up too in response.

Damn him...

"Give up yet?"

John's grin widened, wings twitching ever so slightly but Donnie had a trick up his sleeve that he had not yet unleashed, closing the distance between them in a hasty breath and pressing his lips to John's. That was enough to get his brother to release his grip but, well, his hands only slid down to other parts of Donnie's body, memorising the muscle, the shape of him as if he thought he'd never get that again. His physical body was there and there to stay, as long as he had his demonic influence to play a hand in it all, but he still felt the loss of having a body keenly, the time in the afterlife when he'd had as little substance to him as a breath of air.

That hadn't been a good time. But better times were to be had with Donnie, cheating a death where he had no existence left in the mortal world. Death was death and he could do nothing about what had happened, even if they were yet to discuss his death and the events leading up to it, John pressing into the kiss and deepening it, losing himself even in that moment. Despite his immortality in the afterlife (to an extent, that was), it was those moments that had become more and more important to him over the course of time passing. He didn't have an answer for why though.

"I don't give up with you."

John could not have said quite when the kiss was broken, panting heavily, eyes desperate for something that only a human touch could provide. Demons were different, a different kind of creature entirely, and he needed Donnie, even if he would not admit it aloud. So many things were left unsaid between them and he sealed the words back behind yet another kiss, pulling Donnie over him, though there was no question as to who was really on top in their heated coming together.

Donnie moaned into John's mouth, grasping for him, clutching, his hands in his hair, running through and twisting strands between his fingers as if he was barely able to believe, still, that John was really there. It was strange but it was good and that was all it needed to be as his shaft rose to the occasion, throbbing up thick and full and hard against his brother's thigh.

Brother... Funny how a word like that could mean so much and so little at the same time. Sometimes he forgot that they were related, despite the bond between them that went from their days of birthing, of knowing and understanding each other as people. Every first had been theirs to share, even the ones that came more nefariously, and they had pushed on together, John leading the way in building a drug empire that would ensure that they and Charles too would be set up for life. That, in the world they had come from, meant more than either of them was willing to put words to.

Yet there was something more that John wanted, lust flaring up, wings struggling to rise - oh, how they wanted to flare! His body tensed and they reacted too, feathers shivering, horns growing on his head, losing control of his powers and taking on the entirety of his true form. He only hid the horns for he knew that Donnie didn't like them so much and had thought, somewhat, that giving him a little bit more of him as a demon each time they were together would at least allow him to get used to it. Whether or not his plan would work would only be told in time as Donnie gasped softly and drew back, eyes wary. He still knew that John was not the man he'd once been, as much as the two of them tried to deny it.

Yet he was still John and, maybe, that was enough.

Pushing past the moment, John boldly took charge, smirking and sitting up, although it was his wings that lifted him lightly from the bed, the mere push of his arms enough to send him airborne. Flapping, he poised there, only to land on his feet, Donnie grunting and following him, eager for something that the moment threatened to steal from him, his mouth watering. He could not be denied what made his heart pound and there was no better place to be than on his knees before one who was dominant over him, one soul forever under the hand and control of another.

John's hand grasped his hair - hard. He barely was aware of his moans as he leaned into it, mouth parted, John's shaft hardening, though he still took it between his lips lustfully for the sensuality of it all before it was ready for him. For once, it was Donnie's need that had come up first of all and Donnie hungrily took his cock deep, the thick flesh pressing over his tongue, driving for the back of his mouth but not quite reaching where he wanted it too. Confused, Donnie strove to push forward but John moved back, teasingly moving his hips away as a wing curled around, brushing his cheek and shoulder in a touch that brought a flutter to his heart in all the right ways.

"Did you think it was going to be that easy?"

Coldness settled in the pit of Donnie's stomach: a stark contrast to the heat coursing through the rest of him with the beat of his heart. What was that? What did he...

Yet he never got the chance to ask the question as an unseen wind whipped around him, bitterly cold and yet hot too at the same time, licking at his skin as if it was a wild beast that yearned to take a bite out of him, to take sustenance from his flesh. John's cock was the only real thing there for him as he suckled fiercely, clinging onto his shreds of reality even as John ripped the fabric of being around him, a dull roar resounding, bouncing off the walls, curtains whirling and flying, clattering along the rails. With what a demon could do, it was no wonder that people in times gone by had been accused and 'treated' for demonic possession, a book that John had never read but liked to keep around anyway flying from the bedside table in a sharp flap of anxious pages.

He didn't look up, cross-eyed as John loomed, seeming to tower even more than he usually did. It was hard for someone not to seem ominous when one was on their knees but his wings bracing against an infernal storm was all that Donnie needed for his heart to pound, dropping into his stomach and swelling back up again. Adrenaline was a fickle beast indeed and John was learning just how to play him, toying with the edges of boundaries that no one could have known existed before, well, demons came into play, opening what Donnie, even as that cock left his mouth, could only describe as a portal of some kind behind him.

"Oh, no..." John laughed, eyes darkening to a swirling, throbbing crimson, reminiscent of the depths of hell itself, as he drew back, standing tall. "Not that, not yet! I have something special for you!"

That may have once made Donnie's traitorous heart leap and turn over like a schoolboy with his first crush but even he knew that that meant something far darker than anything he was used to with the nuance of a demon looming over him. Yet what could he do to protest, to say that he wasn't ready for something more? He already was, moaning and trying to follow the path of John's cock even as he arched away from him, the roll of his hips tantalising, skin so very pale and yet pristine at the same time. He was pure and impure at the same time and, as a demon, he didn't need to be anything more or less than what he was, which was a beauty and simplicity in itself, regardless of the complications it came with.

He raised his hands, the portal opening up behind him, a mass of swirling, writhing grey and black and streaks of purple, the colours changing and shifting too swiftly for the human eye to discern the detail in the craze of it all. Donnie cursed and tried to scramble back but it was too late for the dizzying chaos to release his mind, eyes locked onto it even as his heart leapt in desire that, truly, should have come through as horror. He was a man, just a man, and not poised for a demon's wrath!

Yet all John had in mind for him, his silhouette gleaming with an edge of blue, like the last light of twilight sprinkled with early stars, was lust and there was no wrath to be had, bellowing with an ungodly roar that was merely for effect. He'd always been one for the dramatics but, of course, Donnie was too far gone in the moment to remember that as he covered his head, the boom that resounded through the room, which suddenly seemed too small and claustrophobic, the flash of light only registering in his mind afterwards, everything messed up and back to front. Nothing happened with demons as physics intended, although that was a fact that Donnie was still to learn as the portal retracted, sucking its tendrils back in from whirling wheel, drawing back and in until it sucked right back into itself with a sharp snap.

Moaning, Donnie clutched at his ears, his head pounding, though it was not a headache but something deeper. Something had changed, the very fabric and matter that made up the room shifting and closing around him, a pulsing wave that could not be contained through any other force. A sixth sense was something that everyone in the world joked about at some time or the other but Donnie swore up and down that he could sense the other demon before he saw him, the silence ringing loudly in his ears, not even a rustle from John's feathered wings giving the gig away in the slightest.

"Donnie..."

His brother's hand cupped his chin, lifting his head up, worry crossing John's gaze. The room returned to normal, at least in how it framed him, but the sense of wrongness could not be dispelled so easily, unease clawing its way into Donnie's guts and finding a twisting, cloying hold around his heart, chest tightening.

"Relax," John breathed. "This is different but you have to trust me, alright?"

It was just a moment, yet a moment of weakness that John could only show with a calculating air, due to who else was in the room with them. Every note of vulnerability in his forsaken soul could have been laid out bare to Donnie but others... Well, others had a stake in taking advantage of him, though he hadn't expected the drama of the portal to strike down a mortal soul quite so forcibly.

His fingers brushed Donnie's jaw, the tender stroke relaxing the lines of tension there, if only a little. He had to be careful, more careful. Donnie was more vulnerable than he was still.

"What a lovely moment..."

Yet the creature that bore the voice, for 'person' would have been the wrong word, clearly did not think it was a lovely moment at all as Donnie swayed up onto his knees, blinking rapidly, striving to clear his view of the room and how he perceived his clarity of it. But the being that John had brought forth from the rancid pits of the underworld (well, hell itself was open to interpretation, it had to be said) was not a creature that he could fix his gaze on in any sense of clarity at all.

The edges blurred and shifted as if the smaller, lesser, demon could not hold his form in the mortal world as solidly as John could. Yet he was still shaped like a man, even though John had been quite clear with him in saying that a demon was a demon and no longer a man. Where he had learned that lesson, Donnie was not sure that he was ready to know, but the other demon stood a little shorter than him, his face cut sharply as if he had, once upon a time, been handsome. Yet life and death were no fairytale, as closely as they were intertwined, and hell had drawn shadows in those handsome cuts of his face, the sharpness giving way from beauty to a dangerous kind of delight.

Some said that one could lose their soul from staring into a mirror for too long. Yet the demon's green eyes drank in his soul as he knelt there, Donnie's mouth agape and the only thing left rooting him in reality being John's hand closed on his shoulder. His legs braced, though that was just about the only reason that he didn't topple over right there and then, shock coursing through him, a dull, resounding roar that only existed in the fathoming of his own mind.

"You... You... You're..."

The words stuck in Donnie's mouth, the deadly-handsome demon smirking and brushing a hand back through his short hair, which curled around his small, straight horns as if it was oiled. Donnie didn't want to consider just how demons oiled their hair.

"Oh, can you talk then? And I thought you were going to gape at me all day! Or is that what you do to put his trap to use then?"

Posing, the demon cackled and rocked back on a heel, a leg struck out, though one's attention could not linger there forever. Like John, he boasted wings, but they were smaller and more leathery in how they appeared, spines laced down them from which a noisy membrane was attached, shifting and rustling with every little move of his body. His tail was slender and more draconian than demonic, drawing attention to the darker hue of his skin that rendered him shifting and wavering in shades of purple and grey, image changing with each breath that Donnie took.

Donnie, however, frowned, exchanging a look with John, though the demon had more to say, words streaming from his perfect, slim lips like a thousand lost souls poured away.

"C'mon then, mortal - what have you to say? Are you just the piece he keeps to do the dirty with back here? Though why anyone would come back to this hell hole is beyond me... The world is a dump! Choose death instead!"

Shooting John a look, the demon cackled, though it felt more staged than anything else. Even John rolled his eyes, not taking anything that the less powerful beast of the underworld had to say or do seriously. It was the way of it between demons of their kind, after all, and there would always be a power struggle, a wicked sense of saying anything and everything that came to their minds, taking charge and failing for a flurry of desperation. One kind of demon, or just one demon, would never remain in one sense of power forever but John had no intention of falling down the chain.

No... He'd only brought this measly soul, what he had left of his soul anyway, here for the mystery of pleasure.

"Is this what you're shacking up with?" The lesser demon smirked as he pressed on, eyeing up Donnie with a feral grin as his tail lashed. "And I thought you had better taste than this! Young demons always have trouble letting go of mortal coils."

Stiffening, John fixed him with a gaze that could have frozen flame, the other demon's jaw falling slack, fangs bared but hardly intimidating in such a moment that so swiftly devolved into frenzied stuttering. He should never have pushed John so far but, well, sometimes silence was all that a demon needed to talk themselves into a hole that, quite literally, could turn out to be worse than hell itself.

"'Scuse me, not what I meant," he fumbled for words, shifting his weight and looking anywhere but directly at John. "Sure you had a fine time here, back in the world of mortals..."

Yet there was nothing he could do to come back from such an error, Donnie but a voyeur to the power play between the demons. John's teeth parted but the sound that rasped from between them was most certainly nothing of the human world, an unholy hiss that crawled through his soul and nibbled at his heart, fangs pricking and sinking in for tiny, succulent mouthfuls of his life essence. He could only be glad, watching in morbid, rapt fascination, that John's wrath was not directed at him, although it seemed now that only a tiny shift in the set of his shoulders and the tilt of his chin was what was required to ward off a demon who was, by no means, any kind of threat to him.

"I can send you back as soon as I brought you here, if you're going to play that attitude with him."

The demon quailed, jaws clicking, but had no retort, eyes downcast even if his expression twisted into something ugly and sullen. Yet John was not finished, wings spreading to make himself seem taller, more dominant, than even he was in himself. Against himself, Donnie sucked in a short, sharp breath. He was stunning.