He could no longer remember when it began. It seemed to him that this was always the way it had been. There had never been anything between them but this darkness. They had never been equals, never looked at each other as brothers. It had always been this way. There was no other way they could be.

- - -

The cuffs bit into his wrists. He would have to wear long sleeves again tomorrow to hide the marks, or maybe some thick bracelets. It was a pain in the neck, but he knew better than to complain. His knees were starting to ache, too, although it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been yesterday. He was starting to get used to it.

The clacking of the keys was almost hypnotic. Kristoph had always hated computers, but that didn't stop him from perfecting his typing technique. The man had always obsessed with excellence, in himself and his imperfect younger brother.

The pressure of the collar against his throat jerked him out of a doze, making him choke momentarily as his nodding head pulled the slack out of the chain attacking him to the wall. He bit his lip as the clacking abruptly stopped. The office chair creaked as Kristoph turned towards him.

"Did I hear something, Klavier?" The older man's smooth voice was tinted with amusement, and it sent shivers down the younger's spine.

"No, mein Herr." He swallowed, keeping his eyes locked on the floorboards.

"Hm."

There was a moment of terrible silence. He could feel Kristoph's terrible eyes upon him, glasses glowing bright in the pale blue light of the computer monitor. His fingers clamped tight, arms tensing against the pull of the handcuffs.

And then, slowly, Kristoph stood up, and he knew his evening was about to get much, much worse.

- - -

He didn't ask for much. He really didn't. All he wanted from his head-strong little Liebling was absolute, complete obedience. Was that really too much to ask? Had he not specifically said Klavier was not to make a sound?

Still, he couldn't say he wasn't pleased by this little slip. One could only sit in front of a computer doing paperwork for so long before you simply needed a diversion. And what could be a better diversion than a disobedient pet?

He paced towards the man kneeling next to the wall, pleased to see his defiant blue eyes turned submissively towards the floor. It had taken longer than he would have liked to train him to keep his eyes down. Klavier was an extrovert, and it was their nature to make eye-contact. Breaking that natural habit took more effort than he had expected.

He crouched, tilting his own head to look at his brother's downturned face. The handsome young man's jaw clenched tight, brows pulled together. He smiled, reaching out and running the fingers of his scarred hand along the side of Klavier's face. Klavier knew better than to flinch away, but he still felt the muscles of his face tense and tremble beneath his fingers.

"First you disobey me, and then you tell me lies." He took a hold of Klavier's chin and forced his head up, smirking as Klavier's eyes flickered left, right, anywhere but at him. "Do I need to teach you another lesson?"

"No, mein Herr." Klavier's entire body tensed, already anticipating the pain to come.

Kristoph said nothing, simply smiling and letting his chin drop back down. He wouldn't hurt him, not yet. That was too predictable. He was already getting used to it, and that just wouldn't do. Punishments were only useful until they lost their meaning.

He stood, watching the muscles of Klavier's bare back shiver. He really was magnificent, and the fine network of red lines crisscrossing his pale skin only added to the beauty. None of them would last, of course, he was more careful than that, but that was part of the allure. A couple more days, and he'd have a fresh canvas to work with. A whole new work of art, carved out of blood and pain.

But for now… For now, they had a different game to play. One just as interesting. One they hadn't played before.

- - -

He was still waiting for the first blow to fall when Kristoph uncuffed his hands, the collar around his throat. His control slipped and he looked up, shocked. Kristoph couldn't be letting him go, not now. It couldn't be over already. Kristoph walked back around in front of him, looking down at him and smiling unsettlingly.

What on earth was he planning?

"You've gotten used to this, haven't you, Liebling?" Kristoph waltzed back over to the chair, sitting down and crossing his long legs. "You've gotten used to our little game."

Klavier didn't respond. What was there to say? Anything that came out of his mouth would just make things worse. Whatever Kristoph had in mind for him, he would just have to ride it out. He'd done it before. He could do it again.

Kristoph smiled, tapping one perfect manicured fingernail against his lip. The tip of his tongue darted out and touched his finger, and Klavier suddenly realized that he had broken the rule. He wasn't supposed to look, wasn't supposed to see, let alone stare. He tore his eyes away, swallowing hard as Kristoph laughed.

"You can't help yourself, can you?" The chair creaked again as the elder leant backwards, glasses once more catching the light of the monitor. "Even after all these years, I still haven't broken you."

Kristoph paused for a moment, and Klavier found himself biting his lip and hoping that, whatever his brother had in mind for him, it wasn't as bad as the laughter in his voice made it sound. When Kristoph Gavin laughed, only the stupid or the ignorant did not tremble, and despite what some people thought, Klavier was neither.

When the command came, he almost couldn't believe his ears. Kristoph had him do some fairly twisted things before, things that toed the line between simple domination and incest. He'd been used as a plate, an ashtray, a chair. He'd licked the elder's shoes once, leaving his mouth bitter with shoe polish and leather for days. He had spent so much time naked and kneeling that it now felt odd to wear clothes. But Kristoph had never, ever made it seem like it was about anything more than power. It was always just proving a point.

What point could this possibly prove?

"Didn't you hear me?" Kristoph rolled the chair forward across the smooth wood floor until Klavier could have reached out and touched the wheels. "I told you to kiss me."

He stared at the dull black plastic, trying ignore the brush of his brother's legs against his shoulders. He was hesitating, and he knew that would only make things worse, but some part of him expected this to be some sort of deranged test of his will, like the apple in the Garden of Eden. This wasn't the way they were supposed to work.

And yet, in many ways, this was exactly how they worked. Kristoph kept coming up with new ways to hurt him, to prove just how inferior he really was. First it was simple humiliation, and then pain, and now… Now he had a new tactic.

Even as his shoulders slumped in defeat, Kristoph's slender, scarred hand wrapped around his throat, tugging him up into an awkward half-kneel. Kristoph's eyes were right before his, and there was nowhere to look away to, nowhere to run. The chains might have been unlocked, but he was as trapped as ever.

"You will do as you're told." There was no anger in his voice, just a warning, and in his eyes there glittered a kind of morbid joy more frightening than any rage could ever be.

There was no escaping this. There had never been any escaping this. This was the way it was.

The way it had to be.

Klavier obeyed.

---

When Kristoph said jump, Klavier asked 'how high'? Even when they where children, that had been how it was. Kris lead the way and Klavier followed at his heel. Loyal. Obedient. He used to call him 'Hundchen'- pooch. He never minded. It was his big brother. His word was law.

- - -

Klavier had to admit that he had indeed entertained the occasional erotic fantasy about his elegant elder brother. How could he not, bound naked and sore at the foot of his bed night after night? Usually, his dreams were too vague, too nebulous to fully realize. Trying to picture Kristoph in the throes of passion was like trying to imagine the Queen playing rugby. The image just didn't fit. Occasionally, however, his deranged mind would dream up something that did fit. These were rarely pleasant, more like nightmares than wet dreams, but he none the less woke hard and aching each and every time.

This was so much worse.

The moment their lips touched, hesitant and unsure, he'd let… something out. He'd seen hints of it before, when he'd done something 'wrong' and found himself broken and bleeding on the floor, his brother standing above him grinning like a blue-eyed Cheshire cat. He'd thought he knew what it was. He'd thought he'd seen to the edges of that darkness.

He was wrong. So unbelievably wrong.

Klavier had planned to make the kiss quick, chaste, as close to brotherly as he could make it. Perhaps that was as far across the line as Kristoph wanted them to go. But as soon as he made contact, Kristoph's scarred hand shot up to the back of his neck, pulling him forward and crushing them together. Startled, Klavier automatically shoved against the elder's shoulders, pulling away from the almost painful kiss. To his shock, Kristoph actually let him go, sending him stumbling backwards and hitting the wall he had just been chained to.

His hands were shaking. Looking at the man sitting calmly in the chair as if nothing had happened, silhouetted against the pale cold light of the computer screen, part of him wanted to run. There was nothing physically stopping him. There were no locks on the doors, not any more.

The other part of him, though, the part that had learned to keep his eyes down, would never let him go. Not until Kristoph said so.

"Did I tell you to stop?" Kristoph slowly stood up, unfolding like a spreading darkness against the blue light.

"Nein…" He pressed back against the cold plaster, struggling to still his hands.

"Then why did you?" Kristoph took hold of his chin, pulling him forward and forcing him to look into his calm, cold eyes.

"I…" He swallowed hard, struggling to look anywhere but at the face before him. "I don't… I didn't want…"

Kristoph's eyes flashed and before Klavier could even start to correct himself, his grip shifted to his throat and he shoved the younger man hard against the wall. His fingers tightened just enough to begin to collapse his windpipe, spreading out the force to avoid bruising with practiced ease. The hand around his throat was almost comforting in its familiarity. The hard body pressed up against his, however, was more than enough to make his eyes flash wide, his hands fumbling at his sides, unsure of what to do.

"What you want or do not want…" He could almost taste the words, dead calm and dark as night. "… is completely irrelevant. You will do as I say, or you will face the consequences. Do you understand, Klavier?"

Of course he understood. He'd understood his entire life. Everything he'd ever done had been because Kristoph said so.

"…Ja." The word caught in his throat, almost a sob. "Ja, mein Herr."

His grip loosened, and he could breathe again, although he wasn't terribly certain he wanted to. Not when each breath ghosted over his brother's lips, when he could feel his brother's chest expanding and contracting slowly against his own, each movement bringing them that much closer together, that much closer to…

---

He almost lost control. No, He had lost control. The moment Klavier's lips had touched his, the thing inside him clamouring to get out finally got its chance. If Klavier hadn't pushed him off, he might have ruined everything. He only had one chance to do this, and it had to be perfect.

The second kiss was everything the first should have been. It was slow, almost sweet, so soft it almost wasn't a kiss at all. He let his hand slide down Klavier's throat, resting on his pounding pulse. He brushed the fingertips of his other hand along his naked hip, resisting the urge to laugh as his heart rate skyrocketed. There wasn't a hint of darkness in it, not one.

The trick was to make it feel real. It had to feel completely natural, or Klavier would never buy it. He knew his big brother too well.

He started to pull back, and sure enough, Klavier followed. The pressure increased, mouths opening and tongues darting out to touch, to taste. The hand around Klavier's throat slid up into his silky hair, cradling his head almost lovingly. The one on his hip worked its way down, along the warm flesh of his thigh. Klavier shuddered beneath him, lost and confused and exactly where Kristoph wanted him.

It didn't take as long as he had thought for Klavier to lose all semblance of self-control, and he was almost disappointed. He thought he'd taught him better than that. Still, it was flattering in its own way, and incredibly convenient. The less work he had to do the better, after all.

Klavier's arms wrapped around him, shaking and desperate. He probably expected a blow out of the blue for breaking the rules, but that would have been counterintuitive. Kristoph let him touch, fingers clutching the back of his shirt as the kiss got deeper and deeper. Kristoph nipped at his bottom lip, flicking his tongue over the abused flesh, and Klavier actually moaned.

It was almost too easy.

---

Kristoph didn't do this. Kristoph never did this. He was never gentle, never kind, never… But then again, they'd never kissed, never touched, never… And people did say you always hurt the ones you… Maybe…

That was stupid. He knew it was stupid. There had to be something behind it, some ulterior motive. Why else would he want to sleep with his little brother, of all people? This couldn't be, it just couldn't.

And then he felt something hard pressing against his thigh and it was, in every mind shatteringly good way imaginable. Kristoph paused, and Klavier could taste him, the coffee already cold by the lamp, the chocolates he kept by his desk that he wasn't allowed to have.

"Mein Gott, Klavier." He never thought he'd ever hear Kristoph's cold voice thaw, let alone hear it start to burn. "You have no idea how beautiful you are. It hurts just to look at you."

Just like that, his heart was in his throat, tears burning at the edges of his eyes. It was wrong, so wrong. Kristoph didn't say things like that, beautiful things. Not to him. All Kristoph ever had for him was ugliness. Ugliness and pain. This wasn't right. This wasn't the way it should be.

It made him so happy.

The hand on his thigh slowly slid back up, over his hip and back, moving slowly across the curve of his ass. Kristoph's lips ghosted over his, open and breathless. He felt like they were doing more than just sharing air, like they were swapping souls, spirits mingling together a little more with each shaking breath. They were closer than anyone else had ever been. They shared the same blood, the same breath… The only thing standing between them was skin, and that would be solved shortly if the mutual ache between their legs was any indication.

"Say you want me." Kristoph whispered, pressing up against him as if there were any doubt at all as to what he meant.

Did he want Kristoph? Yes. No. Part of him did, part of him didn't, part of him didn't even know what the fuck was going on any more. Kristoph wasn't Kristoph, he was someone else, someone gentler and kinder, someone who couldn't exist but did, and he didn't know if he wanted that or the real one, the one he knew and hated, but that didn't even make sense.

But, as he had said, what he wanted was irrelevant at this point. He could figure it out later if necessary. For now, all he had to do was give Kristoph the answer he wanted.

"Ja… Ich will Sie."

Kristoph smiled, and that was that.

---

When Kristoph went to law school, Klavier was lost. He was only thirteen, and he didn't know how to live without his brother's guiding hand. Without Kristoph, Klavier was just another spoiled, arrogant brat in a country full of them. Kristoph was the one that made him special, made him important. He followed him. He had to.

- - -

The Queen was playing rugby. And Jesus Christ, it shouldn't have been so hot, but it was.

"Put your hands above your head." Kristoph pulled off his shirt, climbing on top of him.

He complied without question, and found his hands being bound to the bed frame with the white fabric. He'd expected the handcuffs again, and the warm fabric was a welcome surprise. He tested the bonds, and they gave just enough that he knew he could get free if he really wanted to. He swallowed, twining his hands into the fabric.

Kristoph smirked, watching him fiddle with the bonds. He brushed the hair out of Klavier's face, tracing his cheek with his thumb.

"You'd do anything for me, wouldn't you." He slid his hand down Klavier's face, over his mouth, and for a moment, he thought he was going to clamp it tight, as if to keep him from screaming.

He kept going, pressing his fingers against Klavier's lips.

"Suck."

He didn't even think about it. He could taste Kristoph's nail polish, and although it wasn't particularly pleasant, it somehow made everything so much more shockingly real. This really was happening. He really was sucking on Kristoph's elegant fingers, tied to Kristoph's bed with Kristoph himself above him, between his legs. They really were about to… About to…

The fingers slid from his mouth, and were almost immediately replaced by Kristoph's lips. He kissed him hard, almost painfully so, teeth clacking together. He pushed Klavier's legs apart with his knees, and almost before he really realized what was going on, Kristoph's wet fingers were pressing into him. He couldn't help jerking his hands down, pulling the shirt tight and gasping. It stung more than a little, but he'd felt much, much worse at Kristoph's hands. It was just strange, very strange, and he wished he had a moment to slow down and think about this for a second.

Kristoph wouldn't give him that. He thrust his tongue into Klavier's mouth, prodding him into responding while his fingers went to work stretching him out. He kept pushing, never giving him time to think about what was going on.

"Kristoph…" He groaned, pressing back against the pillow to try and pull away, give himself some room to breathe. "Please, wait…"

"I can't." Kristoph growled, growled, shifting his attentions to Klavier's throat as his free hand fumbled to undo his pants. "Not anymore."

Not anymore…

He was an international superstar with one of the biggest bands of the century. Almost everywhere he went, screaming fans threw themselves at him, begging to share his spotlight for just one instant. Thousands of people would be willing to kill for him, and he had never felt so wanted as he did now.

He tilted his head back, letting his eyes drift closed as he gave in to the wave slowly washing over him. Kristoph kicked off his pants, scissoring his fingers inside him and pushing ever further in. He nipped at his throat, lapping at the bruised skin. He felt like he was on fire, and it was getting hotter with each passing second.

He pulled his fingers out, sitting up and hooking Klavier's legs over his shoulders. Their eyes met, and for a second, he thought he saw something glinting out of the endless blue, something he thought he'd never see.

For a moment, he was sure Kristoph loved him.

And then Kristoph was pushing into him and he wasn't sure of anything anymore.

---

He couldn't hold it back. Not with Klavier hot and tight around him, not with his moaning and screaming loud in his ear, hands wrapped tight in his shirt. He couldn't do it. The thing inside him wouldn't stay locked up. It had to, but it wouldn't, but it couldn't…

He was better than this. He was stronger than this. His self control would not waver, not now, not when he was so close…

His fingers dug into the soft flesh of Klavier's hips. He'd have bruises, bruises which would last for days. He was already leaving his mark on his brother's body, it wouldn't be that much more just to…

No. He would not, would not give in to something so base, so primitive. The plan had to come first.

The pain on Klavier's face was intoxicating. He wished he could just slam forward, watch that pain blossom and bloom across his twisted features. It broke his heart to smooth it away, kissing his thigh and pretending to be sorry. He muttered sweet nonsense, not even paying attention himself to the garbage pouring past his lips. Klavier would never hear it anyways, he was too wrapped up in the delicious, terrible sting. All that mattered was the tone, and that he could control.

"I want to break you." He whispered soothingly, forcing his hands to relax and running them over Klavier's quivering stomach. "I want to destroy you. I want to take everything anyone ever loved about you and take it away. I will turn every one of your strengths into a weakness. I will make certain no-one will ever want you again."

Klavier whimpered, hands tugging at the restraints. Kristoph shushed him, tracing the muscles of his stomach.

"Relax, kleiner Bruder. It won't hurt so much if you relax."

Eventually, the tension slowly eased out of him, and the pain faded from his face. Kristoph couldn't help but rock his hips, shuddering as the hurt spread over him again before fading under a growing wave of pleasure. With every passing second, he was getting more and more used to it, even starting to enjoy it.

Let him enjoy it. Let him love every last filthy instant of it. That would make the ending so much more painful.

---

The pain faded and was slowly replaced by something so, so much better. Kristoph kept rocking in and out of him, never more than an inch at a time. He was holding himself back, trying to spare him, and he wanted to scream at him that he didn't have to. He could take it. He would take anything Kristoph could throw at him, if only to see that look in his brother's eyes again, if only to hear the need in his voice.

He bit his lip and pushed back as best he could, suppressing a moan as he heard Kristoph's breath catch. His fingers dug into his hips again, jerking him back and ramming into him hard.

And just like that, they were fucking, Kristoph slamming into him again and again and again. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he couldn't do anything but grab a hold of Kristoph's shirt and hang on for dear life, trying to match the brutal pace as best he could.

The world began to shrink, disappearing bit by bit until all that was left was his brother's cock pounding into him, his hands on his hips, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and the growing growl beneath it. He let his eyes drift shut, the burning look playing over and over behind his eyelids.

This was what he had wanted for so long. This was what he had been missing all his empty life. This was every dream he'd ever had, and he hadn't even known it until this very moment.

It was almost too good to be true.

Time lost its meaning. They could have gone on like that for moments or hours. Kristoph shifted position, almost bending him in half and finding something inside him in the process, something that drove him mad with every thrust. He wanted to scream, and maybe he did, because somewhere under the fog in his head, someone was, and be damned if he could imagine Kristoph making such a sound.

And then he felt Kristoph's breath on his shoulder, felt his lips press against his skin and part, and then his teeth sunk into him so deep he bled, and the world turned upside down.

Kristoph never once touched him.

---

When had it changed? When had Kristoph stopped being his beloved older brother, leading him into a bright and happy future full of love, and become a blue-eyed devil crushing him beneath his heel? When had they changed?

When had Kristoph changed?

- - -

Kristoph lapped at the blood, sucking until it clotted and stopped. He let Klavier's legs slip from his shoulders. Klavier struggled to catch his breath, to calm his heartbeat, to even remember where he was. He'd never been so tired or so happy in his entire life.

Kristoph pulled out of him, rolling off and lying next to him for a moment, staring up at the ceiling and grinning from ear to ear. Apparently, he shared the sentiment. He eventually groaned, sitting up and hunting around the bed for his clothing.

"Mein Gott, Kristoph." Klavier could barely move, instead opting to close his eyes and concentrate of the strange-sexy feeling of his brother's cum slowly leaking out of him. "We should have done this years ago."

Kristoph laughed, finding his pants and starting to get dressed.

"This wouldn't have worked years ago." He heard the other amble over to the dresser and open it up, apparently taking something out of the drawer. "You would never have let me touch you."

"Nein." He sighed, stretching his arms against the fabric and smiling fiddling with a button on Kristoph's shirtsleeve "I would have done anything you asked of me. I always have."

Kristoph didn't respond. He heard the drawer slide shut, felt the edge of the bed dip down as Kristoph sat next to him.

That burning look flashed through his mind again, and emboldened by the lingering sting of the mark on his neck, he asked the question.

"Kristoph? Do you love me?"

For a moment, there was silence. Kristoph brushed the hair out of his forehead, and he opened his eyes. It was the same look, the same tender, loving look that he had been dreaming of for so long. He almost thought he'd imagined it.

Kristoph smiled, thumb running over his cheek.

"I love making you bleed."

It took three torturously long heart-beats for the words to sink in, and by the time they did, it was already too late. The razor sliced into his chest, impossibly deep, one stroke, two, three. Maybe he screamed, maybe he didn't. It didn't matter.

The dream was over.

---

It was worth it. Every gesture of unnecessary kindness, every false smile and gentle touch. The look in Klavier's eyes as he drifted into unconsciousness was worth every minute of it.

He was finally broken.

Kristoph let him bleed, running his hands through the hot, wet crimson bubbling up from the letter carved into his chest. He wouldn't let the boy die, not now. Not yet.

Once the wound had almost healed, he would break it open again, slamming into the wall and fucking him until he screamed for mercy. Or maybe he'd tell him to remain silent again and just keep going forever, as long as his imperfect human body could hold out. Klavier would never dare disobey him again, he was sure of it.

And even if he did, well… He would never be the same. Not after this. Even if everything went horribly wrong, even if he was ruined, Klavier would still be his. He couldn't not be. Every time someone touched him in true kindness, every time he tried to lay with someone else, he would always, always think of his big brother.

"If only the world could see you now, eh, Leibling?" He chuckled, smearing blood across Klavier's face. "Somehow, I don't think they would love you quite so much."

He paused, looking down at the younger man's unconscious face. Klavier. His little brother.

He leant down, pressing his lips against Klavier's. He tasted blood, and for once, it gave him no pleasure.

"Verzeihen Sie mir, Hundchen."

He stood up, walking quickly to the bathroom to find the suture kit. It would do no good to let him bleed to death.

---

Apollo moved his hand lower, palm pressing against the hardness growing beneath Klavier's pants just enough to be felt. He reacted without thinking, slapping his hand away and breaking off all contact between them.

Apollo looked at him for a long moment, eyes a little hurt and a little sad, before muttering an apology and turning back to the movie.

Apollo didn't understand. How could he? He didn't know, and if Klavier had his way, would never know. He didn't need to bring Apollo into this darkness with him. Not when Kristoph was safely behind bars, where he could never hurt them ever again.

The scars on his chest ached.

"Ich hasse Sie." He whispered into the flickering shadow, thankful the man beside him never had managed to pick up any German. "Ich hasse Sie… große Bruder."

Trapped alone in the flickering darkness, Klavier began to cry.