Fic

[somnium_draco]

Title: Rough Lace
Pairing: Victor/Logan
Rating: R

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An uneventful hour and several more beers later had the bartender staring at him intensely, trying to figure out how in hell this man was still on his bar stool, and too intimidated to tell him he’d had enough. He should have been pissing drunk long ago, the feral had drank enough alcohol to kill a normal man.

No more strippers and the band had thankfully packed it away. Without Victor there the boredom became intolerable. By then James was starting to see his brother’s point.

He’d had enough of the place now. He payed the generous tab from the roll of bills he kept in his pocket and stepped out into the cool air of the town. It was a drastic change from the smoke filled room, the chill cleared his senses and filled his nostrils with the putrid scent of dead rats and garbage. In the bar the atmosphere was somewhat lively, you’d never know you were in a town like this. There was nobody out on this street, the bar was the only place open, the rest were closed shops with the shadows of mannequins standing eerily frozen in the their windows. There wasn’t even a breeze, everything was still and quiet. He had the feeling someone would jump out and try to mug him, not that they would succeed at all.

The hotel was a few blocks away and the smells didn’t get any better as he moved on. There was sign of life on the next street in the form of a bum huddled in a doorway. The unwelcome atmosphere made him long for the comfort and security of the hotel room and he picked up his pace.

Despite the damp, dingy air of the town he felt quite good, the effects of so much alcohol in his system, not nearly enough to blur his vision but it left him with a pleasant buzz. The cold night steered his thoughts to a warm body atop his own, heavy and sweating. He might take Victor up on his offer after all if he found him awake at the room. He fully expected to find the older feral humping the furniture.

Aside from the bar the most lively place seemed to be the cat house. Lights and noises came from every window, screams, slaps, moans and yells. A couple girls stood around the side of the building, smoking and chatting of their latest conquests. A sleazy looking police officer was taking notes from one hooker in a white night gown, she had bruises on her arms and other exposed skin, complaining about stolen underwear.

James stopped to eye the pickings. Slim, quite literally. They looked as bad as the building did; dirty, overused and probably full of unwanted life. He’d seen better, he’d seen worse. But they all gave the same pleasure with no special thrill. The most he ever got from a prostitute was when he and his brother shared. Moving on. Maybe hookers would be worth the money in Vegas.

When he reached the hotel he stopped to check on the car, not a scratch on it so far, he had a trivial bet with his brother someone would try to break into it by morning. He took the outside steps two at a time as he ascended to the second level and located the room, number 210, knowing it wouldn’t be locked. But for some reason it was. Victor must still be out he thought, fishing in his pocket for the key, he fiddled with the lock a moment before it decided to let him in.

There was nothing but darkness in the room, not much warmer than outside, the place smelling of mold and stale smoke. He shrugged off his jacket, throwing it over where he remember a chair to be and searched around for a light switch. Which proved unnecessary as a lamp clicked on behind him.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in!"

James, startled and nearly popping his claws, whirled around to face his older brother.

His mouth immediately fell open in horror at the sight before him, a surprise he hadn’t been expecting and was entirely unprepared to face.

He gawked stupidly for a moment, then turned away slapping a palm over his eyes. "No, no, Im still drunk!" he moaned in denial.

"I doubt it."

He turned back for a second look to make sure this wasn’t a dream or a hallucination. And there was the disturbing image now burned into his retinas.

Victor was lying on one of the beds. In women’s underwear.

The older man smiled playfully, waving a hand over himself, "well, what do think?"

"I..." James’s mouth moved up and down, brain too shocked to formulate a response, unsure weather to laugh aloud or scream.

Victor’s toothy grin betrayed his amusement at his little brother’s expense. The look on his face was priceless.

"Take a good look little brother, and tell me honestly," Victor purred.

James hadn’t taken his eyes away on the second look, couldn’t. Like anything strange and unusual it drew his gaze, from toes to teeth.

Thigh high black nylon pantyhose stretched over Victor’s thick legs. A black lace and red satin thong that barely held in his impressive genitalia, with a matching garter belt around his waist, thin straps holding up the stockings. An unbuttoned black lace camisole hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his broad, manly chest. The only thing thankfully left out was the brasier.

James calmed himself with a deep breath. This was too unreal. "Why the hell are you dressed like that?" It was a joke.

Victor looked at him as though he should know. "We had a deal, remember?"

James remembered. "I thought you were joking!" He just couldn’t grasp the thought of Victor being serious, it had to be another one of his sick jokes.

"I don’t joke when I want something Jimmy!"

That was true enough, but still... "why did you bother with this?" There were a number of other, less disturbing things he could have tried. Not to mention James was going to give in anyway, grudgingly he always did, but he’d keep that to himself.

Victor shrugged, "seemed like a good idea," perhaps he had been a little under the influence at the time. But the look on Jimmy’s face was worth it. He turned onto his side, propping himself up with an elbow and bending his legs slightly, showing off the curve of his bare ass.

The pose was admittedly flattering from James’s point of view, he found the room grew suddenly hotter. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"That desperate?" he asked.

"No, just bored." Had to be pretty damn bored to go so far for his little brother’s attentions, then again Victor had a habit of acting on impulse.

"Could’ve had hookers," James reminded.

"I told you I wanted to try something new."

This was certainly new. A different approach to the usual teeth and claws it would likely turn into. He knew how it would play out as soon as he got on the bed, things would be broken, their skin and bones among other things, as they ravaged each other, taking and receiving greedily. His brain reacted to the thoughts by sending a flow of blood to his nethers.

Victor smiled, picking up the scent of arousal from across the room. "Come on little brother, I know you need it as much as I do."

No, he didn’t need it, but the temptation was strong. It was pointless to deny that he was finding Victor’s exhortations with more appeal every second he stood and stared. He made up his mind right away.

"Aren’t you supposed to dance for me?"

"That part was left out of the final agreement," Victor pointed out. Of course, if he could find a way around something he would, though he had no doubt at this point that Victor would do it if it had been part of the deal. Didn’t really matter, he wasn’t sure he wanted to see his brother dance in that outfit.

Victor rolled onto his back and spread his legs, giving James a good view of the barely concealed bulge in his panties. "Come on Jimmy, take what you need," he purred.

James raised a brow, realization dawned on him and he laughed in disbelief, "your letting me top?" Another surprise!

"If your man enough!" Victor smirked.

So that was the new experiment Victor wanted to try. It certainly piqued his interest, and he was relieved that he wasn’t expected to submit to a transvestite.

It was almost too much to handle at once. Luckily at that moment he felt another type of flow.

"Where you going?" Victor called after him as he turned away and headed for the small bathroom.

"To take a piss," James replied, shutting the door behind him. The walls were wet and the mirror over the sink was steamy, Victor must have had his shower for the week, planning on smelling like sex for the next few days until they got to where they’re going. On that note he decided to save his shower for the morning, lest things get overly messy.

He couldn’t help but laugh aloud again at this whole situation. Victor, in ladies undergarments, practically begging his little brother to fuck him. Something he never in his life expected to see or even thought possible. He didn’t know what could have brought this up so suddenly, or where Victor obtained his new outfit.

A picture flashed in his mind of the roughed up prostitute he had seen complaining to the police officer, and his eyebrows drew in with a disapproving frown. Now he knew what happened to her underwear.

When he came back into the dimly lit room he pointedly aimed his frown at Victor and stated "you stole those!"

Victor looked at him, confused. "How else would I get them? You think I carry around women’s undergarments because I do this on a regular basis?" he replied.

"You beat up a prostitute," he couldn’t help but be angry, the woman hadn’t likely done anything to provoke an attack.

Victor simply waved it off, "just gave her a little poke."

"And stole her underwear!"

"Come on little brother, you can’t honestly tell me you care about some dumb bitch’s underwear?"

He didn’t care, he just didn’t like to see his brother act so recklessly. It could have been worse.

"Now, care to join me little brother, or are you gonna stand there and sulk all night?" James flashed him a look that said: no, I don’t care to join you, but he would anyway Victor knew. "I hear if you leave it too long the look becomes permanent."

James sighed, resigned to his fate. Victor always managed to bring out the worst in him. But odd incestuous sex was the lesser of many evils and one of his brother’s desires he could easily indulge without regret.

The hotel was the perfect place for such filthy acts. The rooms were small and dirty, the heater was broken, promoting any activities to give off warmth, and the beds had likely been used for many perverse things. The smells coupled with the dim yellow lighting of the lone table lamp gave it the perfect atmosphere, provoking the impulse to get dirty, like a pig gets the impulse to roll in the mud. The scent of his brother’s arousal, like an animal in heat, stirred a nagging want inside himself.

Victor smiled, pleased as James removed the shirt he had been wearing for days, captivated by the stretch of perfectly toned muscles as he lifted his arms to pull it off. He sat down on the end of the bed and bent down to untie his boots. Victor placed his foot on the younger man’s back, pressing and pinching skin between curled toes in a sort of rough massage. Thankfully he didn’t have claws on his feet.

When the boots came off they were tossed into a corner so they wouldn’t have the smell of sweaty feet to ruin the mood. James turned to stare down at his brother and Victor once again spread his legs, inviting him in to examine up close.

He began to see this cross-dressing thing in a new light. It was submission. Victor was splayed out beneath him like a whore, ready to give and take, and more, he was letting his younger brother be the dominant one in this game. That brought a spark of excitement to ignite in his chest, awakening a more primal side to his nature, and the heat in his pants to start a steady throb.

Climbing onto the itchy brown blanket at Victor’s feet and accepting the invitation, he crawled between his brother’s legs. Every detail now up close and personal. He noticed several runs in the thin fabric of the stockings, the petite lingerie barely able to contain his masculine form, giving it a wild, tattered look that suited the feral man. His nose picked up the faint smell of perfume and feminine on the garments, almost completely drowned out by Victor’s dominating scent.

"Now little brother, are you going to fuck me..." James cried out as a clawed hand flashed down and gripped him by the hair, forcing his head to twist back awkwardly, exposing his throat, "or should I take over?"

Provoked into sudden action James put both palms on his brother’s chest and slammed him back against the wooden headboard. Victor gave a grunt of pain, his healing factor quickly vanishing the bruise on the back of his neck. He grinned up at the younger feral, pleased with the reaction, knowing he’d get the excitement he craved.

James wanted to wipe that smug grin from his face, wanted to knock those fangs out with his fist. What seemed like submission was a clever ruse to appeal to his more primal, dominating nature. It was a game, and Victor knew how to play to get exactly what he wanted.

What Victor brought forth in him, what he did to him... It would be the end of them someday.

Forcing himself to relax and remember the position they were in, James calmed himself. Victor wanted it rough, its what they were good at. He could feel Victor’s strong heartbeat, fast under his hands still pushing against the warm chest. It was his turn on top now and he was going to have it his way. The calloused hands rubbed over the wide expanse beneath them, under the lace camisole.

Victor’s smile faded, suspicious of the sudden change from violence to an almost gentle caress. He had expected the rough behavior to continue, had wanted it to continue.

James smiled down at him slyly. He could play games just as well. "I don’t hit prostitutes."

Victor growled deeply in warning, "watch it Jimmy!"

"Thought we had a deal? Said I’d fuck you if you dressed like a whore."

"Dress like one, I aint gonna be one for ya!" Victor ground out, displeased with the turn of events.

"Really?" his fingers caught hold of a small paper tag, dangling by a thread from the camisole sleeve. "Says here you’re a twenty dollar whore."

Vicious talons scraped down his chest, drawing deep lines of bleeding red that quickly vanished in their wake. Hissing at the sharp sting, James had to fight the urge to retaliate with his own hidden claws. Violence always had its part between them.

Grinning, Victor slid further under him on his back, it wasn’t the way he had hoped things would go, but he was intrigued for the moment. "I know what you do with whores little brother." They were going to play dirty in this game. "Your going to give me pleasure," he dug his claws into James’s forearm, "and take the pain." Predictably his little brother couldn’t keep the beast caged for long and there was plenty of time to draw it out.

Thick fingers fumbled at the belt of James’s pants, more accustomed to tearing the clothes from his victims. Victor’s wrist was caught and squeezed, halting his progress. James could feel the bones grind together in his grip.

"Im not gonna give pleasure," he snarled, "Im gonna take it!"

"Somehow I think I’ll be getting it anyway," Victor smirked back.

With no further comment, preferring to touch rather than to talk, James moved back down to position himself between his brother’s legs. Here the scent of Victor’s arousal was intoxicating, flowing off him in waves, causing a fog in his brain. The scent of his brother’s sex always made him wild, the thick musk mixing with his own, making the feeling stronger.

From this point of view looking up at his brother’s large body, James had to admit the undergarments didn’t look half bad on Victor, in fact he wore them better than some women he’d seen.

"What?" Victor snapped at his stare, the more concerning thing being the lack of action.

The corner of James’s mouth tipped up in a half smirk, "fancy lingerie suits you."

Victor kicked at his leg, "get on with it!" he growled impatiently, shifting his hips to indicate what he expected.

"The whore doesn’t get to say how this goes!" He could tell he was treading thin ice here. Victor could easily flip them over and pin him down. Victor hadn’t intended this as role play, but for whatever reason he wanted this, he simply growled and let the comment slip.

Nose tip touched to the stocking, scenting where it had been and the sweat of the skin beneath it. James slid his mouth along Victor’s inner thigh, feeling the fabric scratch against his lips, the older feral shuddering as the course whiskers of his mutton chopped cheek prickled sensitive skin. James did it once more, faster, to feel that shudder again.

Victor loosed a sexy, low moan, purposely dramatized to play the part.

An exploring hand found its progress hindered by the garter belt holding up the hosiery, undoing the clasps on the elastic straps one by one, back and front. James slid a finger under the flower patterned rim of the pantyhose, tugged lightly at the material, teasing small noises of anticipation out of his brother. The fact that he was doing this to him, Victors helpless under his ministrations, made James’s insides jump with a sick thrill. So much power in his hands, moving over every inch of skin in reach, wanting to feel more under his palms, coax out the small pleasured and frustrated puffs of breath from Victor’s lips.

He marveled at his brother’s handsomely furred body, familiar territory he rarely took the time to admire. Victor was truly beautiful, a creature of raw power that could not be contained or diminished by such a humiliating situation and unfitting garments.

Rough hands rasped over exposed skin, Victor arched up into them, wanting more pressure, always he craved more feeling and intensity. James knew was torturing him with gentle touches, and he loved it, Victor deserved it in so many ways.

"You should learn to be rougher," Victor breathed, "its more fun," though the touches were agonizingly light he would rather have them continue than stop. He was used to the rougher side of love making, the kind that always left bruises on weaker bed mates, preferred the thrill and release it provided to feed his nature.

"I like it like this," said James. Victor’s body was worth taking the time to apreciate. Like a good drink, or an exceptional prostitute it was something to savor while you could. For that, spite and just the fun of it, he would take his time teasing, though the urge to tear off the thin coverings and take him like Victor would was there.

He slipped two fingers back underneath the edge of one stocking, tickling along the rim, his other hand doing nothing but supporting himself as he watched the ripple of muscles as they tried in vain to shy away from his touch. Victor could be tickled! He filed that information away for later use.

A low rumbling sound started up in Victor’s chest, a deep, purr that James could feel vibrating through his body. He loved it when Victor purred, even more so that he was the only one who could make him do it. The tickling fingers moved upwards, ghosting over the older feral’s thigh and up his side. The purr hitched rapidly in something like a laugh.

"You usually tickle your whores Jimmy?"

"If it tickles my fancy, sure, why not?"

The growling purr hitched into a snort of laughter as the wandering culprits moved over his abdomen, the muscles quivering and scrunching inwards on reflex.

"I’ve found your weakness," the younger feral smiled deviously. Fingers tugged playfully at the hairs on Victor’s belly.

"ya, maybe we should turn this around and find yours," Victor growled back, but the threat was empty.

"That would defeat the purpose of you dressing like this," he pulled up the thong strap with a finger and let it snap back with a sharp sound, "and you wouldn’t get what you wanted for it."

Victor snorted in disagreement, "there’s plenty of ways I could get what I want." James arched a skeptical brow. "Could tie you down," Victor continued, "have my fun that way. Would have been just as easy."

James bit back a growl at the mocking tone. Sure the older feral could pin him down and take him, but it sure as hell wouldn’t be easy! Victor was just trying to rile him up. But James had always been the stronger when it came to control over his actions, he had more effective ways to deal with this than violence.

Victor’s back arched up off the bed and he moaned through clenched teeth as his balls were grabbed and squeezed hard. That sudden shock of pain that he loved so much, made his whole body jolt and his heart rate spike. James could hear his brother’s heart, the noise was faint, muffled inside his chest, fast and strong.

James could see Victor’s cock give a twitch in his panties and dipped his head between his brother’s thighs to lightly kiss the bulge beneath the fabric. It strained back against his lips. Opening his mouth he sucked on the outline of the concealed member, tasting the salt of Victor’s skin through the red satin.

"Blow jobs work better without the underwear you know," Victor pointed out, shifting impatiently.

James ignored him, continuing to tease around the lace trimmed edge with his tongue, pulling the thong strap between his teeth, tugging it down. Challenging his own desire to taste flesh in favor of torturing his brother as long as he could.

"Stop you’re goddamn teasing Jimmy and get on with it!" Victor growled.

Rearing back, James fixed him with a cold look, "why should I? Not like you don’t do your share of teasing." He argued, and squeezed Victor’s crotch. His older brother’s idea of teasing was a little more brutal.

"Sadistic basterd!" Victor spat, and his brother grinned.

Impatience was gnawing at them both now. The heat steaming off Victor’s body at his front was in stark contrast to the chill of the room raising goose bumps along his back. He fell forwards to press their bare chests together and take Victor’s lips with his own, kissing hungrily and melting into the warmth. Claws pricked at his lower back pressing him forward, encouraging the friction between them. Victor kissed him back as though he were starved, biting and lapping at his little brother’s mouth, going for the sweet taste of alcohol that was still present on both their tongues. The slimy appendages twirled and pushed around each other fighting futilely for the upper hand.

James rutted against him so forcefully the top of Victor’s head knocked against the headboard, and the button on the younger man’s jeans was causing some discomfort. James was excitable, Victor had half expected his little brother not to know what to do with a more dominant position. But James was handling it well so far. He loved to see his little brother take control, it made him proud to see Jimmy exerting dominance, so much like himself. He thought of watching James taking a woman, throwing her down helpless beneath him, making him horny. He bucked his hips as James pushed down, the button on his pants adding a sharp pain to the motion.

The younger feral squeaked in sudden pain as his tongue was bitten, one of Victor’s fangs piercing right through the muscle and holding it in place. He grabbed Victor by his short hair and yanked his head back, causing an additional amount of pain before forcing him to let go. He sat up on his knees and stared incredulously at his brother.

A rivulet of blood dribbled down Victor’s chin, he sucked a drop from his bottom lip and rumbled a pleased sound in his chest.

"Now who’s the sadistic basterd?" James wiped the blood from his own lips with the back of his hand and swallowed the coppery taste in his mouth. With the skin on skin contact gone the cold became more noticeable, bumps reappearing along his arms.

"Lose the pants runt," Victor said huskily, drawing up a foot to rub at James’s crotch, "and lets make some heat!" They could both hear noises of passion through the walls behind them, another couple of playmates having the same idea. Victor was desperate now to make some pleasured noises of his own, did so when James pinched one of his nipples between two fingers as he thought it over.

Victor could have lost control when that mischievous look entered his brother’s eye and he said simply, "I think I want to play some more."

Victor clenched his eyes and groaned, a nice shade of red coming to his face reminding James of a child about to throw a fit. Good things come to those who wait, and when they finally got down to it James would make it good.

He pressed his mouth to the base of Victor’s throat in a kiss, so vulnerable a spot was one of his favorites, rubbing the whiskers of his cheeks against his collar bone. Victor felt the hot moist breath on his skin and the younger man’s facial hair moving over his chest, delightfully ticklish. James brushed aside the edge of the camisole with his nose, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth and sucking on it gently. Victor’s claws dug into his scalp as he fisted a hand in James’s mop of dark hair, frustration creating a tightening ball in his gut, he wanted more of his little brother’s mouth on him. He would get his revenge for this some day soon.

James smiled as his brother fidgeted beneath him, he was having fun with this new, temporary position. He moved over to the other to the other nipple to give it the same treatment, this time biting down and twisting his head from side to side to elicit a snarl from the older feral. He laughed silently and rubbed a hand over Victor’s side in a calming gesture and continued on his way down. The tip of his nose brushed a light trail down the center of Victor’s body, hovering over his diaphragm as it rose and fell with deep breaths. The purring started up again, a deep, forced rumble to keep the older feral calm, slow release of pent up energy.

Finally coming to rest between his brother’s strong thighs he peeled the panties down, watching as they clung to the moist skin, releasing Victor’s pulsing, red erection into the air, breathing in the thick wave of musk. Lifting the other man’s hips to slide them further down, he hooked the panties behind his head and took Victor’s cock into his mouth.

Victor’s head lolled back on the pillow with a long, low moan, and he thrust up violently into his little brother’s mouth. He almost lost it right there as the wet heat closed around him. James opened his throat for it as he’d done so many times in the past, taking as much in as possible. Just as soon as he reached the bottom he was off again, smirking sadistically at Victor’s indignant whine. Unlike those times in the past he was in charge of this. But he didn’t leave it for long before he dove forward to fill his mouth again.

Thinking to save his pride Victor pressed a hand firmly to the base of his penis to keep himself from coming. The hand was promptly slapped away. Glancing down he met his brother’s intense gaze, threw his head back to the pillow and laughed. "Like to be in control of your whores eh runt?" The ensuing growl reverberated around his shaft, teeth rattling threateningly against it. "I love to see you in control," he purred.

The cock bumped against his chin as James emptied his mouth to suggest, "why don’t you make some noise!"

"Don’t like conversation from your whores then," Victor chuckled, "understandable." He couldn’t say much more as his brother stated an excruciatingly pleasurable treatment on his cock. He rumbled his appreciation as he settled into the wonderful sensations.

James could hear his own blood pounding in his ears, making Victor’s moans of pleasure sound muffled. He tugged at the crotch of his pants with his free hand, he whole heartedly understood Victor’s frustration, he didn’t think they’d ever done foreplay for this long. But it was still so good, a different kind of intensity. He sucked the throbbing member all the way back to the tip, then down both sides, tracing the line of a thick vein with his tongue. He could tell Victor was helplessly close to orgasm, he knew the signs well, the muscles of his thighs were flexed, claws tearing holes in the blankets. The younger feral intended to push him over the edge.

He hooked his arms around the back of his brother’s legs and pulled him forwards, opening his throat up to take the sizeable member in all the way and burry his nose in the coarse hair at the base, feeling the burn as his jaw stretched to its limit.

Jimmy’s throat fluttering around his cock made Victor’s eyes roll back in his head. Unable to hold it any longer he roared his pleasure as he came. His built up release burned through his length, exploding down his little brother’s throat, so good! He twisted his hips in the air, the violent movement causing his shoulder to bump hard against the night table where the lamp swayed and crashed to the floor.

James cringed at the noise of the lamp shattering, plunged suddenly into darkness. Luckily they wouldn’t have to pay for it. Feeling Victor’s cock pulse a few times releasing his seed, the member going flaccid in his throat, he pulled back, tasting the salty sweet remnants of semen as the head slid over his tongue. He sat up on his knees and rubbed at his burning throat, opening his mouth a few times to get rid of the ache in his jaw. Victor’s girth was big enough to make it hurt for a while.

A sliver of light peeked through the blinds on the rooms one window beside the door. He got up and stumbled over to the window, tripping over his boots in the process and peeked through the blinds. He could see the parking lot, their car was still there.

The spots were starting to clear from Victor’s eyes, twinkling like stars on the dark ceiling. That was easily the best orgasm he’d ever experienced, though he’d had so many he couldn’t remember if he did have better. All sexual frustrations were blown out with his orgasm, leaving him with contentment and a mellow mood. It took him a few moments to realize that they hadn’t done what he had wanted, why he was still lying there in women’s underwear.

Looking over to his brother’s silhouette against the window, he frown at him in the dark. "Is that it?" disappointment evident in his voice.

James arched a brow, of course Victor would want more, his stamina was incredible on the battlefield and it was no different in bed. Sometimes the bed felt like a battlefield. "No," he answered. By no means were they finished, James wasn’t about to quit now with an iron rod in his pants. With the smell of Victor permeating the room now it wasn’t going to go away on its own.

He tugged on the string attached to the blinds, letting more light into the room. He couldn’t see in the dark, but Victor could. He felt the older feral’s hungry gaze on his bare back, stinging it with needle pricks, braced for an attack he should always expect from the dangerous animal. Especially when caged together in a small space, it made them both crazy sometimes.

This time Victor had patience to spare. He readjusted the panties that were bunched up half way down his legs. He found the garments surprisingly comfortable, even the thong, sitting light on his form with an almost naked feel, if only they were completely of soft satin instead of the more itchy lace. He sat back propped on his elbows and waited.

Victor’s eyes glowed eerily back at him in the dark, patiently waiting for his prey to come to him. James waited for his own eyes to adjust to the darkness, returning the predatory gaze in full. The older man’s form came to more light on the bed as his eyes adjusted, different in the dark, like a large imposing shadow. The hosiery darkening his legs now uneven, telling of unspeakable acts in the dark.

"Well, Jimmy..." came the lazy voice. He popped the button on his jeans, Victor’s heart skipping a beat at the sound of the zipper coming down, his excitement returning. James stepped out of his pants, glad to have his member finally released from the confines of the tight denim, giving it a few quick tugs. He stalked forward determinedly and Victor spread his legs for him, he climbed up instead to straddle the feral’s chest between his knees.

Victor chuckled heartily at his little brother’s bold behavior, if it were anyone else to try this they would be killed as painfully as possible. Oh the things he let Jimmy get away with. Even now with a dick in his face and James glaring down at him with deadly seriousness, he didn’t feel the least bit humiliated, secure in his dominant position in their relationship.

"If you’re gonna treat me like a bitch, aren’t you supposed to tongue fuck me?" He tried, not expecting it to work.

"You’ll take what I give you!" James sneered down at him. It was late, he was horny to the point where his balls felt heavy, he was in no mood for any more of his brother’s dirty propositions. Placing a hand on his brother’s head and pushing it back he snarled, "you’ve had your pleasure, its my turn!" He slapped his cock against Victor’s fuzzy cheek to emphasize his demand.

That was a fair point. Victor had to wonder if James was taking his position a bit too seriously. But he’d let his brother have his fun for once. He opened his mouth willingly to receive the member as it was slid in, almost carefully, the salty heated skin resting heavily on his tongue. A firm hand on the back of his head pressed him forwards till the tip of his brother’s cock touched the back of his throat. Fighting off the gag reflex, he relaxed. Sealing his lips over the shaft he sucked on it lovingly.

James had resisted the urge to thrust forward into his brother’s maw, ever mindful of the vicious, pointy fangs. He drew in a sharp breath as the fang tips brushed over the skin, released it through a mouth opened in pure pleasure as he was finally immersed in Victor’s hot, wet mouth. Giving in to the most wonderful sucking sensation, feeling every inch of Victor’s tongue rippling against the underside of his cock.

His heart rate quickened and he shook slightly. Staring down at the erotic image of his brother’s lips sealed around him. The dark fan of his lowered eyelashes flicked up revealing the glowing eyes, peering up at him through the darkness with an expression he imagined was dirty. James resisted calling him a filthy slut when Victor pulled back and swirled his tongue lazily around the tip, sending a pleasant tickle through his nerves. He closed his eyes as his brother settled into a rhythm.

Victor didn’t make a sound as he worked, only James’s own heavy breaths and the muffled squeaking of overused bedsprings in another room broke the silence. Somewhere nearby a woman moaned loudly, and he imagined the noise passing red painted lips with his dick shoved down her throat. Suddenly desperate for a sound, something here with him, he reached out and felt the coarse hairs of the older man’s face. The older feral leaned into the touch as he cupped his cheek, smoothing his thumb over the bristles. Victor responded with a purr, the gentle vibrations of the sound as much a delight to his ears as to his member, buzzing through him to join the feeling building in his core.

Victor knew his brother was getting close when the grip firmed on his jaw. As much as he loved the taste of Jimmy’s skin and essence, he didn’t want to make him come yet. His own cock had regained full hardness, peeking out the side of his disheveled panties, begging for contact.

Victor pulled back, applying slight pressure to the end with his teeth. He didn’t bite, but the threat was still present and understood. He looked up at his brother, "come on Jimmy, don’t make me beg," he said, "because I wont!"

James twitched up a brow, "beg for what?" Playing dumb, as if he didn’t know what Victor wanted. Though it had slipped his mind for those blissful moments. The eyes stared back, mirroring his own seriousness from before, intense as white flame.

"Fuck me!"

"But you already came." He was screwing around with Victor, the older feral was getting worked up over it now, he could smell it. He wished he could take this much pleasure in being an asshole any other time.

"And you haven’t, don’t you complain, stop fucking around and dick me little brother!" Victor snarled and leered up at him. "If you wanna play around some more then fine! Loosen me up like you do with your whores."

"May be I’d rather have you tight!" James retorted.

"Then go for it!" Victor sneered right back. James couldn’t win this one.

Reluctantly the younger man took his member away from his brother’s mouth. Taking him dry and unprepared would have been satisfying, though he knew from experience it would be painful either way. Prompted by his spiteful mood and curiosity he opted for fingering, eager to know what Victor felt like inside, any different from the whore whose underwear he wore.

The thin string of the thong was pulled aside with two fingers and the forefinger prodded against the tight ring of muscle beneath it, forcing its way inside to be greeted by a warm, dry softness clamping down around it. Removing his finger he ran it through Victor’s slit, slicking it with precum before pushing it back inside, it slipped in easier and he added another.

Victor didn’t know what to make of the curious intruders poking around inside him, it felt rather strange but not unpleasant. He moaned aloud when a spot inside him was brushed with a fingertip, the feeling nearly making him orgasm for a second time. The fingers weren’t enough, not the feeling he wanted.

"More!" Victor demanded.

James looked up, confused, "you want more?"

"Yes I want more, what are you waiting for goddamit, fuck me!"

James conceded the point, he was torturing himself now. His erection throbbed painfully between his legs, begging to be buried in his brother’s body. Spitting into his hand he rubbed it over his length, still coated with Victor’s drying saliva, renewing its slickness. Nudging aside the thong he positioned himself and began to enter. Having never been in this position with his older brother he had no idea what to expect. Hiding his boyish inexperience well, determined not to show any weakness, he started forth into the unknown, hoping to find himself pleasantly surprised.

With the head of his cock just inside Victor’s entrance the tightness was unexpectedly intense, doing all it could to hold him back, providing such exquisite pressure on his tip. Beckoned by the warmth and an encouraging noise slipping from his brother’s lips, James thrust forward without warning and Victor roared in pain as though he’d been stabbed. The feeling was incredible, cradled in velvet softness, absent the wet hardness of a pussy, better than any pussy. The muscles of Victor’s entrance were clamped tight on his shaft with vice force and he could feel the heat of his brother’s core ahead, nothing there to stop him going balls deep. He started to move, knowing and not caring that Victor wouldn’t have waited for him to adjust if things were the other way around.

This is what he wanted. The liberating feeling of being dominated. The pleasure blended with pain sending shocks through his body as he felt James’s cock pulsate inside him. The primal expression twisting his little brother’s features as he claimed his prize. Yet there was still restraint evident in his posture. He didn’t need Jimmy’s cation, he needed him to be an animal.

Victor thrust his pelvis upward, interrupting the slow rocking of James’s hips against him. "Harder!" he demanded with a harsh breath. He could take it like Jimmy could, that was the difference between him and whores. He wouldn’t break, and that was fuel for their relationship.

James complied, but only moving faster. "Harder!" Victor roared. This time James put more power into his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin bouncing obscenely off the walls.

A pounding on the wall behind them told them they were being loud, the same couple that was having fun earlier making just as much noise. Sure it was late, but some people should mind their own damn business. People like that pissed the younger feral off the most.

James bit his lower lip as he concentrated on the motion of his hips. With the force of his anger behind his thrusts, the top of Victor’s head was now banging out a jaunty rhythm on the headboard.

Victor’s eyes were closed tight, lips curled back and baring his glinting fangs at the ceiling.

"Jimmy," Victor moaned. James loved the sound, slammed forward in a demand to hear it again, the voice so needy and thick. He always loved it when Victor said his name, because it was for him, and Victor would only ever be like this for him, he knew.

Victor swore under his breath. Saying his brother’s name had been an attempt to catch his attention, but came out as a desperate moan instead. The bruise on the top of his head would take some time to heal and he was starting to get a headache. Aside from that minor discomfort, the feeling of being filled to ripping point was becoming normal, his muscles no longer gripped so hard around the intruder and he could feel small bursts of real pleasure coming more with each heavy thrust.

He made an attempt to prop himself up, and failed miserably. With the words hitching in his throat he just barely managed to get out a sentence, "jeez Jimmy, do you always give your whores a concussion?" The movement slowed.

Victor couldn’t see the redness James could feel rising in his cheeks, a little embarrassed by his own recklessness. Reminding himself he was with his brother and not some frail, that Victor could take it anyway, he replied smartly "you said harder."

"Yeah, pound my ass harder, not try to knock me out." James was going slow again, mindful of his words. How sweet. "I didn’t say slow down." This time his hips were pulled back to meet the thrusts as James resumed his pace.

A sheen of sweat like black ice covered James’s rippling muscles. His breathing coming fast and heavy, a loud rush in Victor’s ears. So powerful, Victor almost felt frail beneath him. During sex was the only other time he ever witnessed his little brother exerting so much energy, off the battlefield. It was this energy that made Victor feel alive and free, sent adrenalin burning through his veins. This is what he got off on. He was starting to sweat now himself as he struggled to give back as much as he took, the lace of his camisole rubbing roughly against his wet skin, creating an angry burning sensation.

Driven by a need to be in closer contact with the body beneath him, if that were at all possible, James slid a hand under his brother’s lower back, lifting him off the sheets. Stocking clad legs slid up to hug tightly around his waist, Victor’s head fell back to the pillow with the arching of his spine. James starred at the exposed curve of his brother’s neck, almost elegant, the black lace collar clinging to his skin. An eager hunger blazed through him, he clenched his teeth on the closest bit of sensitive skin he could find, Victor’s raised nipple, and twisted savagely.

Victor howled, a wail of pain and pleasure. He gave up trying to move in time with James and went limp, letting the younger feral shake him around like a dog with its toy. He lay back and took the beating that was being given to him. So strong, so good.

Soon Victor could feel that familiar sensation crawling up from inside, a building pressure that started to burn. He dug his claws into James’s upper arms, squeezing his legs tight around his waist. Just a few more thrusts to send him over the edge.

James could smell Victor’s fresh seed as it spilled out blazing hot onto his belly, smeared it between them. The older feral’s hands kneaded at his arms, muscles tensed in his legs as his spine curved and arched off the bed, a beautiful noise ripping from his throat. James held back his own orgasm as Victor’s inner walls clung to him powerfully.

It was over in an instant, the legs that had hugged him so tightly moments ago loosened and fell open at his sides, the older feral lay limp, spent and exhausted. Victor was beautiful like this. Sweating and panting heavily. His eyes were closed, his head turned to the side beckoning a bite to his neck, the camisole spread open around him like a black liquid. Having such a beast submit to him so completely, James felt powerful.

A malignant grin that so often twisted Victor’s face graced his own. He pulled out from the heat of the other man’s body, pumping his cock furiously in hand he shot his seed over Victor’s chest and stomach. Greedily marking his territory.

Victor regarded this humiliating act with mild amusement, out of the corner of his eye, looking up at James’s expression of almost wicked glee. A few wayward drops of James’s messy orgasm spattered his cheek, the man needed to work on his aim, but if he wanted to make a mess Victor wasn’t one to object. He allowed James to prolong his dominant experience, he deserved it. The next time things would be turned around, that’s not to say he’d never take a bottom position again. He enjoyed it immensely, the release both mental and physical, basking in his brother’s strength and to witness how cruel he could be.

James’s orgasm came to a shuddering halt, frozen for a moment looking up at the ceiling, he collapsed back on his heels and breathed a heavy sigh. Suddenly feeling a bit drowsy, he may have over exerted himself in the last moments. But it had been good.

He looked down at Victor, laying there still, a smile curving his lips and swirling a claw through the mess on his belly. He looked completely disheveled and used, the thong bunched up to one side of his flaccid cock, stockings sporting a few new holes. James knew he looked no better.

Once the after effects of sex faded all the previous events came flooding back, as they usually did. He was never fully prepared for it, it had been good, why not just leave it that? But no, part of that mess was his, the pungent mixture still floating about to remind him. He felt a little embarrassed at that last disgusting act he had performed, something Victor was more likely to do, even more disturbing was that he loved it. He ran a hand back through his sweat slicked hair, realized too late he had just added semen to that hair gel mix. He felt decidedly filthy.

"Oh god," he remarked, the enthusiasm was gone. He got off the bed, legs a bit shaky, and hobbled gracelessly over to the table and groped around for his jacket.

"What?" Victor asked from the bed, "running away from me?" James always ran away from the whores afterwards, presumably to avoid a kick in the balls when they found out he wasn’t carrying any cash. Never ran far from his big brother though, so he didn’t have to worry.

"Need a fag," James replied. He found the box of cigars in his jacket pocket, struck a match and lit one.

"Ooh, classy," Victor commented, "smoking after sex."

James sucked in the smoke, warming his lungs, everything else had gone cold again. He blew out the smoke, thick coils floating lazily through the air in graceful spirals. Cigars always helped calm him down, after sex or a fight, relishing the smooth taste and smell that made everything better. But someone always had to go and talk...

"And how was it for you darling?" the older man mocked, adopting a sexy pose, begging for attention.

"Probably could have been improved with a bottle of champagne and a couple roses," James replied.

"Something to think about for next time then."

James snorted. Next time wasn’t likely, there would always be more sex, but nothing like this. He didn’t know how Victor managed to drag him into these scenes, always bringing out the worst in him, as if he just let it happen.

Victor licked his thumb and fussed over a spot of drying semen on his camisole, determined to leave a nice white stain as a reminder of the experience. He had to admit even the cross-dressing part was fun. It was refreshing and new, weather James thought he looked good in women’s underwear or not, Victor thought of it more as a mind buggery than something self demeaning, though he wouldn’t make it a regular habit. He would keep whatever’s left of the garments, perhaps Jimmy would get a nice surprise on his next birthday.

James stared blankly through the window blinds a moment longer. The smell of sex growing stale was soon covered by the fresh smoke, though it was still there enough to haunt his dreams. He ground out his cigar in the plastic ash trey and turned back to Victor. The man was straightening out his stockings.

"Take those off!" he scowled.

"Why? Aint I a sexy bitch?"

"No, you just look like a mess." He was tired now, all he wanted to do was sleep, no more banter with his brother. He moved himself over to the other bed, leaving Victor to roll around in his own mess, and lay down with his back turned in a final statement for the night.

Victor plucked the price tag off the camisole sleeve and casually flicked it at his brother’s back, "you owe me twenty dollars."