Chapter Text
Everything was so different now and the ginger himself wasn’t quite sure when did it have changed but he did know the why and how.
Change was something generally would neither of the twins like. Usually when it was involved it meant but misery coming at their doorstep, always ready to fuck them (and everything they cheered and loved) up. Whether be it dead of a mother, departure of a father, shitty classmates or even shittier rich businessmen that used their wealth to force others into so called “agreements” that left the very demon itself seeming like a fucking saint.
Yes, right. Life was not the best, it was shit, a cruel unforgiving lady that even now it wasn’t any kinder, that sadistic whore enjoyed to see suffering through one’s bloodened eyes, however, certainly life had turned a little more bearable (or for the ginger at the very least) when a certain space boy showed up and stumbled upon the redhead’s life one fateful night.
“Tired” was not the word he would use, neither “exhausted”, “One thousand percent done with this pig’s shit”? Yes, that was more accurate. He wished to just quit, if later did they kill him for such mattered little, death at these heights would be mercy. There was no night when he didn’t yearn for such; finally free from manipulation, from pretentions; no more doing dirty work, nor having to clean blood off his clothes — either his or someone else’s — or cum off his hair and ass, no more being anyone’s pretty “exotic” plaything.
How much did the long for it, but he couldn’t. No, he had a brother to think about. Which lead us as to why did he accepted to be yet another toy for "master Porky" — as he was forced to call that bastard — in first place.
Now, don't get him wrong, even under other circumstances he would had given his life for his sibling's, and if being both a hitman and a sexual toy for the world's fucking worst man alive and co. was the price to pay for sweet darling Lucas' safety, so be it. He could always clean, wounds would heal, limbs and organs could be replaced, and though mental scars would still be there, the more suffering he went through made it easier for instincts to overtake, favouring focusing on his teared apart body than a broken mind. However, as accustomed he was to this daily basis of misery did not meant he craved for their situation to be different, for at least have a little stability upon this sad existence of his, not being anyone's plaything, to just be able to be himself for at least one damned day.
As he practically dragged himself back home all alone at high hours in the morning, beaten up, with cold clothes soaked in blood that barely were covering his skin so full of bruises, wounds and cigarette marks, he looked up the dark skies; as always, not a single star on the polluted atmosphere except for a bright comet that seemed dangerously close to the planet they called home.
He gave it not much thought, with Lucas anywhere near he have no reason whatsoever to pretend such thing as wishes or miracles existed and had lived enough to learn how full of delusions life was, it must had been not a shooting star but rather merely space debris (which, regardless the case, in fact, was nothing but bullshit).
With a twist of the hand, he clicked open the door to the small single-story apartment he shared with his brother in middle of a grotty, decaying, neighbourhood where it was not odd to hear every morning for corpses to be found at shadowed back alleys next to filthy convenience stores that were crumbling and covered with litter and graffiti. Granted, it was not the best place to live, but nowadays, was there really such a thing? Fuck no, here or elsewhere, life was but crap.
Claus stepped inside the flophouse he had grown attached to and even managed to think of it as home since at the very least that little space was where he could feel at peace with no need to worry about what would be stuck into his flesh next.
The redhead hoped for his twin to be asleep as otherwise poor sweet Lucas would get a heart attack at the sight of his dear brother’s dangling pieces of flesh, visibly broken arm and black eye just to name few concerns.
Lucky, after closing the heavy metal door behind him, did Claus see the dim light of their old T.V gently illuminating the blonde whom laid fast asleep into the sordid living room’s couch, over him a dull coloured blanket so thin that with or without that extra piece of cloth would give just the same; probably had he fallen asleep watching some corny show in wait for his sibling’s safe arrival.
Careful to not make a sound — rather a difficult task due to a broken-down floor — the oldest brother threw the youngest over his shoulder as a potato sack and carried him to his respective room. Laying the blonde to bed, Claus eyed at the near window, as expected, whatever he had seen was already gone.
Only that it wasn’t and, in fact, the flying object — whatever it was — was closer of what anyone would expect: within the atmosphere, in this very same planet, few blocks away where supposed barren land had been used as dumping ground, an spaceship had landed with the grace of a car driven by a drunkard that just fell into the neighbour’s private swimming pool. Although, somehow, the crash passing close to unnoticed in midst of a quiet night that was too short for the ginger’s liking since before sun came out, a new day of sheer torment was already waiting for him.
Next morning, after covering up his bruises although yet with messy bed hair and wearing the most decent clothes he could find at a chair besides his bed, as vigorous as the living dead, Claus walked into the small dining room in which his already dressed twin brother awaited for him at the table with dishes, a small box of donuts and coffee as dark as the redhead’s heart (if at these heights he still had one and not a black hole, that is).
“Morning, Claus!”, his twin beamed.
The elder sibling merely walked up to the coffee pot to pour with his good hand — which was not even his own — some of the black liquid over two cups, not even filling any of them to the top, then the rest of the beverage straight into his mouth.
“Ness’s here?”, he asked lifting an eyebrow after the burning hot drink trailed down his throat and settled into his stomach.
The blonde nodded with a little, sheepish, smile.
Claus grunted as he stuffed a donut into his mouth, muffling the sound of his senseless, discriminated, cussing; it was too early to cope with that motherfucker’s bullshit; however, he was grateful for the confection (not that he would ever admit it, of course).
“Why is he here so early?!”, he whined. “Doesn’t he have more important things to do like… dunno, baseball stuff or somethin’?”.
“Yes, he does” — Lucas answered calm and collected, pouring some milk into the two coffee cups before taking a sip from one — “But he decided to stop by early today”, he finished with a bright smile warmer than the very liquid he was drinking.
“Don’t you ever get tired of him?”, asked Claus irritated, dropping his good arm messily into the table along the coffee jug and yet somehow not wasting a single drop.
“No”, he replied in a way that reflected so much fondness for the jock that it disgusted his sibling.
“Well, I do”, the redhead pointed out the obvious as he stared into the void of the black liquid, the void staring back.
Lucas sighed. “Someday you will understand”.
“Hmm… Lemme think about it…”, he said dragging his words and with a finger to his cheek. “Nah”, he concluded sticking out his tongue before giving a long gulp to his coffee straight from the recipient. “Where is he anyways?”.
“Went off to retrieve the newspaper”.
“Like a dog”, Claus commented deadpan looking at his sibling over the coffee jug.
Before the blonde could say anything to defend his boyfriend, the devil walked in with his usual sporty looks the ginger so much hated, if he was to visit his little brother, the airhead could at least try to dress nicely; y’know, like a good or at least decent boyfriend would. Or someone who just wanted to fuck. But wasn’t fuckboy just a more vulgar term for a so-called partner?
“Oh! Hey, Claus! Good morning!”, Ness greeted noticing his sweetheart’s older sibling.
Claus narrowed his eyes into a killer gaze. “Don’t you dare talk to me before finishing my morning coffee unless you don’t want to keep that filthy tongue of yours inside your skull where it belongs”.
“Okay, okay, geez…”, he rushed to forcefully agree making few hand gestures as if he was to tranquilize a savage, bloodthirsty, beast… which was most likely the case, but he was pretty sure Claus was way worse than any man-eating creature.
Lucas decided to brush off his sibling’s behaviour, it was not atypical from him after all, he would just have to apologize to Ness later.
Across him, his boyfriend had taken a seat, and was meticulously staring throughout the several thin, colourless, newspaper pages, probably looking for what he had mentioned a little earlier before his twin arrived.
“Any interesting news?”, the blonde inquired.
The raven-haired boy looked focused throughout the pieces of paper in search of anything that could prove his point of what he had told his boyfriend previously; there was plenty about by now outdated murders, weight reduction bullshit, the obituary, beware the toilet snakes, horoscopes, announces about suicide hotlines and abortion delivery service, the dog park that was most definitely not real and that they really should not address nor acknowledge at all... but it seemed like there was no news about yesterday's comet anywhere. What a shame.
Ness put away the newspaper. “Nope! Nothing at all!”.
“What are you looking for anyways?”, Claus questioned.
“Aliens”, the couple answered at the same time, Lucas' calm tone crashing with Ness' utterly crazed one.
Claus lowered the coffee jug deadpan, lamenting ever asking, Of course it would be aliens. If it was Ness, it HAD to be aliens!
The redhead groaned and shook his head after facepalming. “As much as I would like to live in a fantasy world much like you two, for the last time, aliens. Don't. Exist!”.
“Well, there's plenty proof about the possibility of aliens existing, so...”, Lucas stepped up, although his brother interrupted.
“Too much History Channel dates for you two”.
Lucas opened his mouth as to object, but Ness quickly held his hand and talked up. “He's not wrong there, sunshine”.
Claus rolled his eyes, of course he wasn't wrong, they've been together for so long that these first dates when Lucas yet bothered to look even more dazzling than usual seemed like distant past, and though he won’t say it (because it involved Ness), he did miss seeing stars on his dearest little brother’s eyes as he got ready to go out with the raven-haired boy.
“I've got a great idea!”, Ness beamed now holding both his boyfriend's hands into his own and looking straight into his sky-blue eyes.
Lucas' cheeks dusted slightly with blush. “Huh?”.
“Let's go out in a real date today after school! No aliens, nor baseball, just the two of us! Whatcha say?”.
Yet about to talk, this time was Claus the one to interrupt. “Are you kidding? It's gonna rain dogs and cats! If Lucas gets sick, I’ll-…” — what would he do?... Lucky, Ness talked up.
“Until night. Don't worry, I promise to take Luke back home before so”, Ness relieved confidently.
Until night, of course he says. When most murders take place, he says! Knowing him he would take more time than just that and would be arriving after dark, but perhaps this meant getting rid of Ness, so… No. But it was not like the redhead really had much saying on this.
Claus aimed a spoon and a killer gaze at him. “I will flay you alive and make a new jacket out from that unprocessed leather you call flesh if you don't”.
Ness gulped, his previously confident smile quivering slightly with fear, he didn't want to know what the ginger could do with a spoon. “D-Don't you worry, I've got this”.
His inner mortification only grew further when his someday-would-be brother-in-law stabbed the thick wooden table with the spoon, leaving the utensil standing firm on place.
“You better know what you're talking about”, Claus threatened.
“Anyways!”, Lucas stepped up between them. “We should get going”, said the blond holding onto Ness’ arm, anxious from breaking the tension.
Ness beamed smiling sheepishly, not really minding a lot the little aid nor the sweet gesture. “Okay!”.
“Let me just get my stuff”, the little ray of sunshine that brightened both other males’ life said running towards his bedroom, adding “Don’t you murder each other!” before disappearing into the room’s darkness.
“I don’t promise anything”, Claus growled.
Uncomfortably, Ness’ purple eyes shifted from place to place while completely avoiding contact with the redhead’s turquoise ones until finally did Lucas arrived with his worn school backpack over his shoulder and skipped towards the entrance.
“Goodbye, bro”, he said half-cheery.
“Yeah, whatever”, his sibling replied apathetic.
Ness dared to look at his partner’s sibling. “Don’t you want a ride to your job?”.
“I’d rather cut my limbs off and drag myself there with only my tongue before accepting anything from you”, he half-lied taking a final sip from his coffee. Damn.
Lucas pushed his boyfriend through the door. “Time to leave! Love you, bro! Bye-bye!”, he rushed to say before nervously walking out himself, leaving the redhead behind, all alone with his thoughts and dreadful sensation of having to go out there again and do master Porky’s bidding, whether be it assassination or something worse.
With his broken bones it was not something he was particularly looking forwards to — not that he ever did — but he just couldn't take the luxuries of not reporting to work or else.... gosh, he didn't even could bring himself into imagining the start of it; the things that pig forced him to do if well not particularly despising him but neither loving him (regardless their fake relationship) were already bad enough, he wanted not to see what would happen if he was to get into his bad side, less for something as stupid such as failing to arrive on time.
He gulped looking at his broken — yet his own — arm before shifting his gaze to the wall clock. Crap, it was getting late. For a moment it crossed his mind that perhaps he should had accepted his sibling’s boyfriend offer only to remember that the sole thing that would make it worst was to be seen willingly fraternizing with Ness… Whatever, he would have to run.
As quick as a one-handed person could, he rushed to pick up the dirty dishes, juggling them into his single mechanic arm before practically dropping them into the sink; then, took his house keys prior leaving the small fleapit he called home to make his way where he would usually wait for Master Porky to pick him up.
Usually while making his way throughout the suburbs he won’t deem much attention to anything as he had better things to worry about than the red-painted street decorated with scattered viscera, glass shards, cigarette tails and the dismembered bodies of malformed foetuses, but as by chance of destiny, this sole time something turned his head.
But of course a house that appeared in middle of the night would call his attention! Even more so as the dumpster it appeared at was where he had dispatched of so many corpses! Where would he dispose of them now? The river? No way, there was a major risk of its radiation making the dead comeback to life for vengeance. Maybe he would have to bury them now at the backyard… the patio would look quite charming with few flowers to cover up the pseudo-potter’s field… though it sounded like such a nuisance going through all that on daily basis. However, there was still the option of melting them in acidic wastes at the back of the insecticide factory… Hmmm… He would give it a thought later, when perhaps he wasn’t risking his and Lucas’ neck over arriving late, which regardless how badly he tried, he did.
His blood turned cold as colour drained from him all the while at the sight of the usual vehicle already waiting for him. He was so fucked.
Whatever. Better get things done with.
Claus climbed into the vehicle, meeting face to face with his tormentor whom awaited for him immobile on his seat, that ugly, irritated, sadistic smile of his with no words told the ginger problems were sure to come.
He said nothing, he was not allowed to talk unless allowed otherwise, thus, the redhead awaited for the other to either remark on his delay or go straight to the point, patiently waiting, trying hard not to throw up at the very sight of the only person whom he truly hated, a task that turned more and more difficult each passing day.
Finally, after what felt like ages but, in reality, had been no more than milliseconds, Porky talked up, his voice as unpleasing to the ginger’s ears as his damned smile to his eyes.
“You made your master wait”, he said between gritted teeth that held tight on place an already half-burnt down cigarette.
“I apologize, master”, Claus replied, holding back a wince of disgust at the words that rolled out his tongue.
“Why would you?”, he asked coldly blowing smoke towards the ginger.
Any reply was doomed to be wrong, but how bad would his reaction be was up to him and his choice in words, but he was so done after yesterday he didn’t bother to give much thought. All answers where bad answers. There were no excuses. He could as well sass a little, it all gave the same.
“Arriving on time would be much easier if I was allowed a vehicle, master”.
“Such as you would be quicker if I amputated your legs and changed them for metal ones much like your arm, or perhaps if something terrible were to happen to that leech of a sibling of yours”, he replied with a pinch of amusement as if it had been a joke.
Claus’ first thought was to pummel that bastard; no one was allowed to talk shit about his dear brother, but then did his rage died out at the claws of fear, realizing that if he was to punch him, his boss’ men would surely do something terrible to poor Lucas, and not even Ness would be able to do crap about it.
Through the ginger’s gaze on his otherwise deadpan expression, Porky could see fear. Wasn’t it so amusing, so entertaining? His toy wanted to play brave and miserably failed! He wished to keep messing with it, to break it further apart, but it was not the time. There were other things to do, no time to waste, and time was money after all, torture could wait. For the moment.
“You’re lucky I enjoy seeing you suffer and removing your legs just would mean less places to hurt you”, he laughed as if already imagining the things he would do. Holy shit, didn’t that laughter sound so much like a dying pig’s oinking? “Same with your stupid, little, bitch brother. Now thanks your all merciful master”, he said, horrendous toothy smile widening from ear to ear as he extended his chubby human-pig hand towards him.
With disgust, Claus leaned in to kiss his hand, unexpecting of when he was grabbed by his vermillion locks into a death-grip; roughly, he was pulled up by the hair, so brusquely that it felt like the tug would make his follicles bleed.
As he was pulled closer to the other male, he opened his mouth to cry out, only for his voice to be muffled by teeth crashing against his own after sitting him at his boss’ lap, a tongue stuffing into his mouth almost chocking him when it wriggled down his throat, as if the sickening, nasty, pig’s breathe was not enough to make his stomach twitch with nausea.
Lacking breathe and having already enough of that pig’s crap, Claus tried to push the bourgeoise away, an already difficult task with a broken arm needing not of that motherfucker’s insistence. Relentless pudgy hands fondled around the ginger’s well-sculptured body, pulling at his clothes threatening to tear them apart as the rich boy’s nails dug into the redhead’s flesh.
Claus growled — part annoyance, part pain, part humiliation — after he was restrained by his arms being pulled behind his back. Having no other way to make it cease, almost out of sheer instinct, the redhead threw a bite to the or less neck the pig had, sinking his fangs into the greasy, sweaty, leathery skin as deep as the nails that dug at his tights, gaining an ear-ripping high-pitched whine and spurt of blood straight into his mouth.
Abruptly the vehicle stopped, most likely for the driver to check on their boss, but as the conductor’s silhouette towered over the blurred limousine’s window, it stopped as both underlings heard the low, malicious, chuckle coming from the person in command.
The driver turned to get back the vehicle in motion now knowing their boss was fine. Claus gulped, cold sweat trailing down his temples, eyes frozen in sheer horror at the knowledge that he was fucked. Even when there were other things they had to do; those were not saving them. In fact, nothing could ever save him.
Porky hummed, though so little the redhead could already make out clear lust behind his boss’ tone. “Who would have said a mere toy could be that needy for a piece of their master?”, he crooned with his mouth creaking into a wicked, crooked, smile as that nasty pig groped his ass with his filthy hands.
Definitely, he was fucked.