Disorder

Whereas his brother was not always around, being a demon and all, Donnie sometimes found himself at a loss for things to do. Their "business", if one could call it that, ran pretty much by itself with just him to oversee it, though most of what Donnie had to do there involved cleaning up any messes that John created, interfering in the human world when, truly, he did not quite have due jurisdiction to do so. Yet anyone who wanted to tell John not to do something would have been considered a brave soul indeed to do when he was human, much less when he'd ascended (or descended, depending on how one wanted to look at it) to being a demon.

A demon...

Donnie shook his head. He wasn't so sure he'd ever get used to that. With his hands back behind his head, he relaxed in the hideaway, a bought abode outside the city, somewhere that was designed to be used as an intermediate bolt-hole if things ever truly went to shit. It had never come to that so far, at least not for him, but it was nice to know it was there if needed, amongst others. Fiddling with his glasses, he cast his eyes around, the bolt-hole sunken into the ground with grass growing over the roof. It was not as insulating as it could have been but a touch of John must have been in him at that very moment as he stretched out along the full length of the sofa. He wasn't usually that lazy -- not so lazy, at least, that he didn't even really feel the need to get himself up and turn the heating on.

Nevermind.

There were times, after all, when his mind needed to slow down and rest, remembering better times, times when the two of them had thought that they were invincible. Of course, perhaps that meant that, ultimately, John was invincible, but certainly not as a human. No, he had shed the skin of mortality when that knife had slid into him, taking away his ability to claw at and hold onto humanity. But shedding that skin had not left him unable to push into Donnie, the man that he loved taking him even though he was a demon, their bodies coming together furiously and feverishly time after time again.

Some would have said it was an addiction to think about one man so much, much less his very own brother, but Donnie knew too that there was no one there to care. His bolt-hole was set up with state of the art technology, paid for with ill-gotten gains, but none of it held his attention as the curtains slid shut, a touch of a button sliding the room into an artificial twilight. Leaving himself enough light to see by, he groaned lightly, rolling his hips up as his need grew, allowing it to do so naturally.

Damn... Donnie chuckled hoarsely, rasping out his mirth to himself as the rising throb of his shaft pushed out against the front of his jeans, his undergarments tighter than they should have been. He could have sorted the heating too with the touch of a button. How was it that he was forgetting things like that? Maybe his mind was wandering too much, drifting between realities -- even more so, after all, since John had shown him that unreality was very much a possible thing.

It was a lot to take in. Better to rest, to allow himself that pleasure, the back of his hand pressed to his crotch, teasing and testing the waters. A few moments for himself, of course, were laid out there for him to take. And it was only right for him to take them, the button popping loose, zip sliding down, hardness rising into his hand as if it had only been waiting for the right moment in which to make itself known.

Lying back, he remembered.

*

John scowled as he leaned back on the sofa, an arm slung over the back of it as if he owned it. They may have been in Donnie's home -- or, at least, one of his residences -- but it was not something that he had expected John to take note of. He acted as if he was the owner of everything that he touched, his casual demeanour cloying and clawing at everything, stark and loud.

He tipped his glass upside down and frowned even more darkly, shaking it a few times as if a few more drops of liquor may well have found it in themselves to fall out of it. It was the middle of the night but he was as awake as if it was noon, their sleep schedules not really having been all the great for the majority of their lives. And, as it was, the majority of illegal business took place after the sun went down... Where those in charge, of course, weren't being totally brazen about it.

"Fucking idiots," he muttered under his breath, not seeing what was in front of them. "All of them... Everyone!"

Donnie swung around in the computer chair, though the workstation that he had set up in that home, an apartment that no one but the two of them knew about in the middle of the city, was not his usual fare. A little research though and communication from a fresh device gave him eyes on a situation like nothing else, though a solution to the trade issue of their drug business (it was better to think of it like that rather than anything illegal) had not yet come to him. If John was not grouching out his frustrations quite so loudly, he might even reach it sooner rather than later.

"Me too?" He joked lightly, though his tone was flatter than he had meant it to come out.

John scowled and threw the glass, though the casual flick of his wrist must have had more force behind it than Donnie had realised. As if it was nothing, it sailed across the room and smashed on the opposite wall, shattering as the tempered glass shot off in all directions. It rained down to the carpet like crystalline raindrops and even Donnie jumped, although, as usual, John did not react in the slightest. Making an ugly face at his hand, he looked down, opening and closing it as if he was wondering just why another glass, full of alcohol, had simply not appeared magically there as he willed it.

Letting out a held breath that was rendering too tightly in his lungs, Donnie exhaled roughly.

"Jeez, John..."

His brother did not even question his concern, though neither got up to set the glass to rights. It would not have been the first time, after all, that broken glass had littered the floor of just where they were. One might have said that it even reminded them of some part of their younger years.

Maybe.

But that wasn't for them to think about -- not then. Perhaps not ever again.

He eyed John up from the corner of his eye, not liking how the thrown glass made his heart beat more quickly. It was well enough out of the way and he'd have it taken care of sooner or later (by someone else's hands), though he was more concerned about getting it underfoot in the interim.

Donnie licked his lips, a reflex that took place without him even thinking about that. Was he planning to go about barefoot? Well, if he was given the opportunity, him and John were there, all alone... As if they were going to end up doing anything else. He smirked to himself, allowing a little of the tension to soften from his shoulders. It was the best thing to do whenever one needed to take their mind off things and sometimes too when there was simply boredom to be overcome.

In short...sex was always the answer.

He rose, imagining himself something seductive, though he would have felt himself foolish if he had done such a thing in his earlier years with John. But it felt like such a long time since they had come together for the very first time, not knowing what words to put to the fact that they were brothers and fucking each other. Love? Lust? Ah, who really needed to put a term to something that just worked for them...

His need rose, tingling through him, desire coursing up, thick and fast. He smirked like John, though the glint of light glancing off his glasses was intrinsically different. He would never be John but he didn't need to as he slunk down on the sofa beside him, anything but subtle, his arm slung around John's neck. His older brother shot him a look but didn't move away, muscles tensing the tiniest fraction.

Is he really going to make this difficult?

"Don't you need to take a break?"

John's scowl darkened, lips twisting, pressed together. It was funny how someone so good-looking could, in that way, make themselves appear viciously ugly but John still somehow managed to do it in a heart-throbbing way, something that stoked the need in Donnie something dreadful.

Damn it...

"You're the one working, aren't you?"

But John was an easily persuaded soul when it came to matters like that and Donnie's heart leapt into his throat, tightening and pounding there, dropping down to his knees and easily getting into John's jeans, underwear slipping down along with them. He didn't need much room to work to get his cock but and unzipping his fly was more than enough there, his brother sighing and leaning back as if he didn't care what happened, even though his hard cock told the tale well enough for him. If John wanted to pretend that he didn't care as his brother's lips slid down and folded around his cock, that wasn't going to bother him, for his brother was hard and needy, pre-cum glistening faintly at the tip of his cock. It was hard to tell the difference between that and his saliva as Donnie struggled to not salivate a little more, the swirl of his tongue and the bobbing of his head working it up in his mouth. But that didn't matter as long as he too got what he wanted.

"Fuck..."

John rolled out the word in a groan above him, leaning back, hips rocking up just a fraction. Donnie's heart leapt, pounding heavily, and he doubled down on his efforts, hand closed around the base of his brother's cock as he sucked hard enough to hollow out his cheeks lightly. His brother wasn't about to look down at him while he was being serviced, however, laying back as if he was the king and deserved every last little thing that was being done to him, every little bit of admiration and so much more.

If he'd been able to, Donnie would have rolled his eyes. Surely John did think like that, being the lord of a drug empire and all, but he was at his side, the brains behind it. John was the front and the face, the one that made sure that everyone fell in line exactly when they were supposed to. But that was not the case, not always, when it came to those close to him, though Donnie was all too ready to drop to his knees, even if he did not fall into line so easily. He was there for what they had between them, however fraught and strong it was, conflicting at best, and, sometimes, that was all that was needed to bring things to delightful ends.

Passion was all that was needed as he lost himself in the moment. Why worry about the business, everything going on, when he had his brother there and lust to be had? The aftertaste of alcohol lingered in the back of his throat but there would be something thicker and muskier to come, something that he pushed onward to with hasty need, hungry for it despite everything else. It should not have been so and, still, he wanted it, not even wanting to waste a moment in denying his need when he could have what he craved in the present time.

Donnie shivered. But what if he pushed things just a little bit further?

John groaned above him as Donnie worked his head more swiftly, lips pressing down, squeezing around that hot length. There should have been nothing else for the man on his knees but the meat in his mouth but his mind raced, thinking of one thing after the other, what he could do, though none of it was about making John felt better. There were no kinks there that they'd spoken of, nothing out of the ordinary, but the fact that he was fucking his own brother was, perhaps, kink enough.

Yet it could be harsher, rougher, the boundaries pushed, his hand slipping up tentatively to press on his brother's thigh, feeling the muscle beneath his flesh. His jeans slipped down and Donnie took full advantage, working and grunting as he tried to get his brother out of his clothes as quickly as possible. To do that, however, would mean that he had to pull back off his cock and John wasn't about to let him do that, fingers twisting roughly into Donnie's hair as he finally took an active part in the play of things and pushed his head down.

"Don't fucking give up on me now...hm...dear?"

It didn't make sense but that was enough, more than enough, Donnie's eyes half-lidding, going along with what his brother wanted. It was easier that way and, at the very least, he got what he needed. He moaned around his brother's dick and gulped him down all the more feverishly, though he didn't have to move his head all that much with John there to drag it back and forth for him, the heat of the moment rising up, fraught with the very best kind of tension, between them.

John needed it too. And he was going to get every last little fucking thing he wanted and so much more.

John didn't know how to not take what he needed, letting Donnie suck him, fingers digging into his thigh. It came with a pressure and the tiniest bite of pain where a ragged nail caught him but that was not about to stop John from taking the moment further, fingers twisted into his brother's dark hair, although it was not quite as dark as his. They could never have been mistaken for one another, he was sure, though the glasses too were something indeed that could give up the game. They were different and they were meant to be so. Hot pride rushed through his chest, pumped there with every beat of his heart, forcing blood around his body. Their differences, in a way, were what made them good.

But he couldn't resist the draw of need flourishing through him, only very slightly tempered by the level of alcohol in his system. It wasn't something that made him hold off from getting off for any length of time anymore but helped him get off over and over again, the repeated pleasure leading him on into even more lustful times. He growled in the back of his mouth, revelling in the rising bliss. There was nothing like a hot mouth closing around his cock and Donnie's was the best, even though he'd had his fair share of guys too that he could compare things like that to. They just didn't have a patch on his younger brother.

If he'd known that, maybe he would have started fucking him sooner...

John grunted, sitting up halfway, curling forward, need rising. There was no holding back as he used his brother's mouth like nothing more than a hole to be fucked and, in that moment, he knew that there was nothing he could do to hold off for a moment longer. He climaxed as if he had not gotten off in months, humping and grinding and pulling his brother's mouth down as hard as he could, increasing the pressure on the back of Donnie's head without actually realising how much force he was using.

It was a good thing that Donnie loved it, cock bulging out the front of his jeans, showing a rise even though, in that moment, it was not his pleasure that was important. Donnie knew that and John knew that even as he pumped his load into Donnie's mouth, hungrily watching his throat work and work as he gulped it down. A trickle of seed oozed out the corner of his brother's mouth and Donnie groaned, the trembling vibration reverberating down the length of his cock, prolonging his pleasure.

However, the male orgasm was woefully short and he pulled Donnie back, leaving him gasping, as the sensitivity of it all grew too much for him. He grunted and heaved for breath, chest rising and falling, taking a moment to drag his shirt up and over his head, more casual wear for him but, then again, he hadn't been out properly in a little while. Time with Donnie led him into a simpler, less formal way of life, and that was okay too, even if he wanted to look presentable, his suit jackets becoming a way of simply him being him. Donnie sat back on the floor, gasping and heaving, though the glimmer f cum at the corner of his lips, lingering there even after his job of the moment was good and done, was something that raised the stakes in John's lust, cock twitching lightly even as it softened.

He couldn't let it get too soft though, not with his brother right there, groaning with need, pulling up with him. In a moment, the two of them were standing, leaning into one another, though the clothes were in the way, too much cloth preventing their lust from coming through just as it should have been. John smirked and, while he took but a moment in which to recover, peeled off a tab from a strip he had left on the arm of the sofa. It was a light drug, a party drug, but just the thing to stir up in the midst of the cocktail of liquors in his stomach already.

It dropped onto his tongue and he let it dissolve, fizzling lightly, pushed to the back of his throat to gulp down. It would soon have the effect he wanted and he eagerly leaned into it, grabbing another, two stuck together, and forcing them into Donnie's mouth with his own tongue. Of course, Donnie acquiesced to it, his struggles only instinctive and reactive, faintly teasing through in the contraction of muscles. But there was nothing there to worry about and he relaxed as the kiss deepened, clumsy and sloppy, not really being their thing.

Kissing was for lovers... That wasn't what they were. But they could be whatever the hell they fucking wanted to be.

Donnie blinked, groaning as their lips met, hasty passion throbbing up, his cock aching for release. And yet he still didn't even know if that kind of release was to be his that night with John or if he would later find himself in the shower, taking his pleasure with the memory of it to, at least, lift him up. It was a good thing and a bad thing to have such power play between them, his brother snarling against his lips as he pulled back, commanding the moment, demanding everything that he had ever wanted and things too that he didn't even know of.

That was the thing... John would take things even if he didn't know what he wanted. And that was the thing that excited Donnie the most.

Clothes hit the floor, leaving them naked from head to toe and freeing Donnie's erection. As the drugs worked through his system, Donnie gasped, trying to drag in breath that didn't seem to ease the tension in his lungs, glutes working, muscles that he didn't need tensing. Everything was hot and cloying, closing in around him, but John was right there, a syringe in his hand, a smirk in his eyes.

No words were needed and the moment came to pass between them, the needle sliding into his skin like the kiss of a far more romantic, sweetening lover. It should not have been as sensual as it was and, for once, Donnie did not even look away, his hand on his cock, pumping his length, flesh sliding back and forth. Pain could be erotic too but only to a certain extent, like the pressure of a hand on his throat, bearing down so much that the very act of breathing was taken from him.

Donnie shuddered. Yes... Yes, that could be it. Pushing limits, breaking through. How far could the two of them go?

He growled and pulled back but not even John could have seen the snatch of the needle coming, throwing the syringe away and taken the second that, somehow, had already been prepared. Nights with John often went like that, black spots driving through sensation, blacking out what had happened and what was going to happen to. But he didn't need to remember everything, not unless he wanted to, knowing that John was there, that they could push through, that whatever happened things would be okay at the end of it.

He'd never before put that level of trust in anyone else ever before. Never again would he.

Donnie had the syringe clasped tightly in his hand and there was a breath of a moment in which John locked eyes with him. Was he really going to go through with it? He could barely remember the time that he had last held a syringe in his hand, his stomach churning squeamishly at such a thing, but it felt right in the moment, chest tight with something that he could not name. It slid into his brother's skin, breaking the barrier that allowed the drug to flow forth, to do its best work, and he pressed the plunger down, thumb aching to strain up to the end of the thick and fat syringe. It took more pressure than he thought should have been necessary, further demonstrating just how long it had been, but he got it out and it had, in reality, only been a few seconds.