Warning! There is a shit load of swearing in this story! And very angry sex!

Zipping up his jacket against the small autumn breeze, Alfred knocked on the paint-chipped door, looking around the neighbourhood as he did so. He really didn't want to be here, but it was what Matthew would want, so he needed to do it. Even if the bastard didn't deserve to even talk to him. He put his hands in his pockets and sighed. It really was too bad that it came to this, but it was the least he could do.

Opening his door, Ismael almost wasn't surprised to see Alfred standing there, not making eye contact with him. He should have been expecting it, after all. Without a word, he stepped back, the door still open, and went back into his house. He sat down on the couch after bringing a chair over for his unwanted guest.

Looking around the house for a second, the American continued to look at the floor with glassy eyes. At least he was aware enough to have taken his shoes off at the door. Without trying to sound caring, he asked bluntly. "Why weren't you at the funeral?" Alfred's cerulean eyes were trained on his white socks, refusing to look at the Cuban.

Leaning back, Ismael looked out the window, wishing he was anywhere but here. "Figured I wasn't welcome. Who would want the person that turned him gay to be there, right?" He had gone there after the funeral, though, and every day since.

"Matthew would have wanted you to be there. I hope you realize that." Pausing for a few moments to keep himself from getting too emotional around his self-sworn enemy, Alfred added. "As much as I hate you, you were a big part of his life. I can't pretend as if you didn't make him happy somehow."

Giving an ironic, cold laugh, the Cuban looked at him for really the first time. "Yeah, sure." At first glance, he really did look like Matthew. But he noticed the differences. How Alfred's eyes were brighter, instead of the dark blue shade he was used to. Not to mention the fact that he didn't look cute at all.

Shrugging, Alfred snorted. "Hey, I tried. Matthew couldn't shut up about how much he cared for you." At least, it seemed that way to the older blond. After all, just hearing the name 'Ismael' made him angry anyways. It wasn't like he listened too much after hearing it was about his brother's gay lover. As much as he didn't like it, it made sense Matthew would turn out to be gay with him being so shy and innocent. "You should have been there."

Shaking his head, Ismael almost couldn't believe it. "You really have no idea, do you? Care for me? Your brother would do the same for anyone. The only reason he went out with me was because I loved him." Leaning forward, he gave a smirk. "No, it wasn't my name he moaned when he came."

"Dude, I really don't want to hear about that. I don't swing that way, and it's way too soon." Though the American couldn't help but wonder just what Ismael meant by that statement. Whose name would Matthew have called out if it wasn't his lover's? "I still don't get why you didn't go. At least I can act like a fucking gentleman for my dead brother and respect the person he loved."

"It wasn't just you I had to worry about, it was your whole fucking family." He grumbled, taking out a cigarette and lighting it up. "Besides, I don't make it a habit of being civil to my love rival." Even if Matthew was dead now, he was still jealous.

Scoffing, Alfred snarled. "At least you're smart enough to realize we all hated you, not to mention-" He quickly stopped as he thought of the last part of the Cuban's statement. "What the fuck do you mean, love rival? Which other gay bastard went to Mattie's funeral that was in love with him?"

Standing up, Ismael walked over to him, stubbing out his cigarette on the way. This guy was really starting to piss him off. "You really don't get it, do you." Then he roughly grabbed the back of Alfred's head, bringing him close for a forced kiss. "I wonder how much Matt would have given to be able to do that?"

Frantically rubbing the taste of ash and vanilla from his mouth on his shoulder, Alfred stood up and yelled. "What the hell was that for? And what do you mean, 'how much he would have given to do that'?" What was Ismael trying to get at? Did he seriously think that he would believe that his now dead brother was secretly in love with him?

"Believe what you want. I don't have to explain anything to you." Ismael went into the kitchen, not wanting to see him anymore. "Was the only reason you came to ask me why I wasn't at the funeral? If it was, you have your answers, now get the fuck out of my house."

"No no no." Alfred started, shaking his head with a grim laugh. "You're not getting out of it that easily. Just stop being so fucking cryptic and tell me, and don't even think about lying." He was this close to punching the shit out of him, but his small, rational side knew it wouldn't get him what he wanted right now. "Tell me what my brother wanted before he died."

Turning to him, Ismael leaned against the counter. "If you really want to know, he wanted to fuck you. He wanted to fuck you so bad. Well, actually he wanted you to fuck him, but who cares about fucking specifics now?" He had hated this guy before he even met him, knowing he was the reason he could never have Matthew's heart fully. He was just a charity case, because Matthew was too nice and caring to say no to him.

Not able to stop himself, Alfred watched from behind his own eyes as his fist went flying out and connected with the side of Ismael's face. "Don't you dare say shit like that about my brother. What kind of fucked up dream are you living in? Or are you so baked that you don't even know the fucked up lies that you're pulling out of your ass?" Another punch but to the Cuban's gut until Alfred stopped, panting slightly.

"So now you're not just a gay hater, but a gay beater too?" Ismael threw his own punch, feeling his fist connect with Alfred's jaw bone. "Well, unlike your brother, I can fight back!"

"I don't hate gays, I just hate you." The blond grunted as he grabbed the front of Ismael's shirt and started to punch his face. At the same time, Ismael had started throwing his own punches and kicks, making Alfred start to get winded. It wasn't until he suddenly felt blood dripping into his eye that he let go and took a step back. "Stop trying to live out your sick fantasies. I know my brother loved me because we're family. It's just you who doesn't know what it's liked to be loved by a family and who seems to think that it was the same as wanting to fuck each other senseless."

Wiping some blood off his lip, Ismael stepped closer. "He didn't love you like a brother. He loved you like this." With that he once again forced their lips together, but didn't let go this time. His lips moved over Alfred's immobile ones, but it wasn't till he grabbed at the shorter man's crotch that he was pushed away.

Alfred's face held no hint of being amused. "So what are you, the guy all the gays send to turn all the straight ones? Do you tell them all that their dead brother wanted to fuck them?" There was no way he was going to take this big news without a fight. It wasn't like he was even thinking about guys like that before hand, and what was supposed to be a quick meeting ended up with them both bleeding and Alfred questioning just why the kiss didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. "Or are you doing this for your own benefit now? Maybe then I'll want to be with you since you were with my brother."

Sneering, Ismael put his hands on either side of Alfred on the counter. "You're just a pussy. Afraid of being gay, afraid of incest. Maybe afraid to be like your brother."

"I'm not afraid of anything. I'm Alfred-Fucking-Jones." With that, Alfred couldn't have stopped himself from grabbing the sides of Ismael's face and roughly pressing their lips together. Since he wasn't quite sure what to do, he just pretended as if Ismael was a girl and continued to kiss him, completely taking dominance of the embrace.

Kissing back violently, Ismael just let all his frustrations go from the past week and a half ago into the kiss. Putting both hands on Alfred's hips, the Cuban pushed him up onto the counter. He hated this guy for being so close to Matthew, but they didn't have to like each other to kiss. One of his hands went into Alfred's hair, and pulled his head harshly to the side so he could start biting and sucking at his neck.

With a grunt, Alfred pulled Ismael's dreads back so he could attack the other's lips again; nipping and sucking them to the point of opening up the wound on his lips. "This is your 'punishment' for my bro 'loving' me huh? Now I'm gonna get your gay AIDS and die." Still, he shoved his leg in between the darker man's and rubbed his crotch harshly.

"What, afraid of that too?" Ismael panted out, pushing his hands under Alfred's shirt and forcing it up. He went to one of the nipples, biting it cruelly. "You really don't look like him, now that I see you like this." But the fact that they had the same freckle above their belly button pissed him off.

Digging his nails into Ismael's shoulders, Alfred hissed. "Shut the fuck up. Stop talking about him." After all, he didn't want to think about his brother doing this with the guy he hated, never mind the fact that he seemingly was going to do it now.

Lifting Alfred's shirt completely off, Ismael pushed him into the wall. "I have as much of a right to talk about him as you do." Next he started working on his pants, even though he could tell the blond hesitated. "Don't worry, they always say it's the one who gives the blow job that's gay, right?"

"I don't fucking care, just don't talk about him." At this point he was so upset and yet intrigued by the game they had going on, that he wouldn't even blink an eye if Ismael made him give the Latino man a blow job. "And take your fucking shirt off. I don't want to be the only one who's naked."

Lifting it up, the Cuban threw it on the other side of the room. "Didn't know you were such a romantic." He said sarcastically before kneeling down between Alfred's legs. "How will it feel to have a mouth on you that was sucking of your brother?"

"I thought I told you to shut the fuck up about him." Alfred hissed, grabbing his cock in one hand and pulling Ismael's head closer. Stroking a few times to make it harder, he then pressed it against the willing mouth, grunting as the mouth immediately put suction on the head. "Shit..."

Bobbing his head down, Ismael took Alfred's full length, feeling it go down his throat. Then slowly he brought it out, running his teeth along it the whole way. Soon he started playing with his balls, not really caring if he liked it or if he was squeezing too hard.

Shaking lightly, the American continued to let Ismael do whatever he wanted. Really, he was much too sensitive since his last girlfriend was more than a month ago. "They weren't lying when they said that gays really know how to suck cock. It's probably cause it's a food group for all of you." He gave a shaky laugh; grabbing the back of Ismael's head to make up for the fact.

Growling slightly, Ismael dug his nails into Alfred's thigh. He talks about gays when he's having his cock sucked by one? The guy must be an incredible idiot to be bashing him when he had a very sensitive organ in his mouth.

"Fuck..." He groaned, feeling himself getting even closer to climaxing. Before he could, he pulled Ismael away with a sharp tug, pathetically aroused by the picture of his leaking cock close to his puffy, spit-slicked lips. Before he could stop himself, he quickly jerked himself off the edge and smirked when his cum shot out in long, sticky bursts. Tilting back Ismael's head, he continued to milk himself, laughing deep in his chest.

Feeling the warm fluid on his face, Ismael stood up. "What the fuck, you ass hole! This is how you treat the guy who just sucked you off?" He grabbed Alfred by the hair, forcing his head close to his face. "Lick it off, you fucker."

Alfred glared at the other's coal black eyes even with the close distance. "Fuck no! I'm not licking my jizz off your disgusting face." He tried pulling back but between the hand and getting pressed against the wall, he couldn't move away.

"It's your fault it's on my face now lick it off before I bite your dick off!" Just to prove he was serious, Ismael grabbed Alfred's now-flaccid cock, squeezing it around the base.

His eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't. You're too much for the cock to hurt something you get on your knees to worship. I bet you're going to brag to all your gay friends that you got a straight guy to cum on your face."

Mouth set in a harsh line, Ismael once again dropped to his knees and brought the appendage to his open lips.

Blanching, Alfred recoiled. "What the hell's wrong with you? Fine, but I'm not licking it off. I'll just... Use my fingers or something." Would he have seriously bit it off? No wonder Matthew only went out with him for 'pity'.

Standing up, Ismael leaned closer. "Fine, but that means I'm fucking you." He hadn't really planned for it to go this far, but it didn't matter anymore. Well, he hadn't planned on any of this happening, but nothing changed the fact that Matthew was dead.

"Who said there's going to be any fucking anyways?" Alfred snarled, not liking just how out of his element he was around another naked man who he knew for a fact was gay. All it did was make him more aggressive.

"You know what, fuck this, this shit ain't worth it." Ismael reached around Alfred and picked up his shirt that had 'America fuck yeah' scrawled across the front, and used it to wipe off his face. "Get the fuck out of my house."

Looking at his ruined shirt, the American grimaced. "I'm not wearing that thing now, and I'm definitely not wearing your shirt either; it smells like ass and ashtrays." With them still naked, he just grabbed Ismael's wrist as he started to walk away and pulled him back. "Plus I'm not backing out now. Not after a queer sucked me off."

Sighing, Ismael turned back around. "God you're such a dick. Fine, if you want it so bad, then open up your legs." He hadn't done this with anyone else since he had started going out with Matthew, so this felt sort of alien to him, but he was quickly remembering from his days when he would sleep with any guy who was willing.

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that against a wall, dip shit?" He retorted, glaring down the tanned Cuban. If anything, he was only doing this because he had to prove that he wasn't afraid of gays or his enemy.

Putting his hands on Alfred's legs, Ismael started pushing them apart. "The wall is to your back, what the hell does that have to do with opening your legs?" God, how was this idiot related to Matthew so closely as to be his twin? Maybe all the smart genes went to the younger, as well as all the cute, nice ones.

Glaring, he snapped. "Wait, you want to do this on a fucking counter?" This guy was lucky enough to get his man-cherry, so he better not think he could do it in a weird place.

"You want to go to the bed? What, do all straight guys have no sense of adventure, or is it just you? Do you wanna hear where Matthew liked doing it?" He wasn't sure why he kept bringing him up. Maybe it was just because it pissed Alfred off so much. Or maybe it was his way of keeping him alive.

"Fine, if it gets you to shut up about him." Alfred finally snapped, his face turning red from embarrassment and anger. All he wanted was to have a one night stand with his enemy/brother's ex lover and then forget about it. He didn't want to get constantly reminded that his brother was doing these things just a few weeks ago with this very person in this very place. "It's like you wished you were fucking him instead now."

Pushing Alfred's legs apart, Ismael realized that he didn't have any lube with him. Where had he put that last bottle... "Of course I would rather be fucking him. You think I like doing it with straight guys?" He quickly went to the living room, searching in the couch cushions. He was rewarded with a bottle that was already half empty. He went back to the kitchen, already squeezing some out. "He liked doing it on the washing machine. Said it made good vibrations."

Wincing as his mind tried to imagine it, he just shook his head before grabbing Ismael. "Shut the fuck up and kiss me before I remember my cock was in your mouth." That and before he continued to imagine just what his twin did with this man. How could he have even fallen for such a douche?

Pushing their lips together, Ismael was reminded of his split lip as it started to burn slightly. Not that it hurt much, it was just kind of annoying. Then he slipped the first finger into Alfred's hole, and saw him stiffen up. Giving a laugh, the Cuban started thrusting his finger. "What, didn't know this is what gays used?"

"It's not like I sit at home imagining what gay sex is like for all you STD whores." Alfred spat, grimacing at the awkward intrusion. Well, he knew it was only going to get worse from here, but he was totally ready for it. As long as Ismael wasn't hung like a horse, he could handle it.

"If you think I have an STD, why the hell are you letting me fuck you?" Ismael spat, annoyed by how much this guy believed in the stereotype. He shoved another finger in, taking way less time to stretch him than he had ever taken with Matthew. Even when he was used to it, he would always make sure there was almost no resistance before continuing.

Not quite sure what to say but still thoroughly pissed, Alfred grabbed Ismael's dreads and pulled their lips together violently. Immediately he got to work on biting and licking the other's lips, trying to get them to bleed again. At least then they would both be in pain.

Pulling away with a grimace, Ismael wiped the line of blood from his lip on Alfred's chest. "I'm glad Matthew was with me. It would have been horrible if you fucked him." He would have either tried pretending Matthew was a girl, and therefore totally ignore his needs in the front, or he would have been rough with him because he would blame him for ruining his previously straight record.

"That's only if I even agreed to fuck him in the first place." He had half a mind to tell Ismael to just hurry up, but already the two fingers were feeling somewhat forced in his virgin hole. The counter he was sitting on was finally warm yet he still wanted to go to a bed, even if it would seem more intimate.

Pushing in a third finger, Ismael was amazed by how tight it was. "Yeah, you wouldn't fuck him. But you seem fine getting fucked by his boyfriend." Even if Matthew was dead, Ismael still wanted to call himself his boyfriend, just another effort to hold onto him. Like this poorly thought out sexual encounter in the kitchen with his brother.

"Just drop it ok? You're not his boyfriend anymore. Just fucking drop it." Even as he tried to keep ignoring what they were about to do, every time his brother was mentioned a pain went through his heart. He really did love his twin, and the more Ismael talked about doing this with him, the more upset he got. Alfred F. Jones didn't get upset, he got even, and that was why he was sitting on a counter with three fingers up his ass preparing himself for gay sex with his enemy. At least, that's what he told himself.

Taking his fingers out, Ismael lifted an eyebrow in a taunt. "Fine. Well by the sound of things, you're ready." Even if he knew perfectly well that Alfred was still much too tight to take a cock comfortably, but hurting him would be part of the fun. After all, this was pretty much a continuation of their fight earlier.

Reacting just as Ismael was lining his cock up with his now stretched hole, Alfred all but kicked the Cuban away. "Put a fucking condom on you cock whore. I don't want whatever diseases you have up my ass."

"I got tested before I first had sex with Matthew, and I haven't done it with anyone since. So unless you think I got something from him then shut the fuck up, pussy lover!" It's not like he had any condoms anyway, since him and Matthew had stopped using them about a month after they got together.

"I told you to fucking drop it!" The blond yelled, hanging his head with his eyes closed. After a second, he looked back up to Ismael with a harsh glare. "Fine, just fuck me and let me go."

Going forward again, Ismael grabbed his cock and put it to Alfred's hole, pushing in steadily. "So what, you just wanna forget about him? Pretend as if he never existed, never talk about him? Sorry Al," He said the name venomously, "but I'm not that cold."

Alfred opened his mouth to lash out at Ismael, but he was cut off by his own groan of pain. "Shit! Fucking hell you dick, stop pushing in!" Fuck it hurt! Yeah he didn't expect getting a cock up his ass for the first time to be immediately pleasurable, but he didn't think it would feel like he was getting torn apart from the ass hole up.

"No, you wanted this, you fucking man whore so take it!" He had been planning to stop and let Alfred adjust, but this made him push all the way in before allowing him a few seconds to get used to it. Still, he didn't start thrusting, because he at least didn't want him to bleed down there. Just be in pain.

"Shit shit shit shit..." Alfred kept up a steady mantra of swearing and shifting to try and get more comfortable with the dick up his hole. "How can you enjoy this?" He hissed venomously, knowing full well his body was squeezing around Ismael to the point of intense pain.

Instead of giving a verbal answer, Ismael moved back and thrust, aiming for the prostate. When he hit it, he saw Alfred's eyes go wide and back arch. "That is how we can enjoy this. Look how hard you got after one thrust, slut."

"Sh-Shut the fuck up!" Alfred stuttered, hating himself for showing such a weakness. But... It really did feel good. Definitely not as good though as pounding into a girl's pussy. "And I'm not a slut, slut."

Thrusting again, still fairly slow, Ismael leaned over, nipping at Alfred's nipple. "You sure as hell look like a slut." With his legs open wide, a layer of sweat covering his body, and head thrown back like it was. Definitely nothing like Matthew.

Alfred dug his nails into Ismael's back, forcing them to get closer so he could bruise and lick the skin around his neck and collar bone. "Well you're the one acting like a slut, having sex with your boyfriend's twin after he died. Maybe the reason you keep talking about him and how he wanted me because you were the one who wanted to see it. Could you only get off if you imagined your boyfriend and his twin having incestuous sex?"

Before he could think, Ismael's fist knocked into Alfred's cheek. "You don't fucking know anything!" He yelled, hands now going around the smaller man's neck, pressing down just enough to make it hard for him to breathe properly. "You don't fucking know what it was like, having the one you love being in love with his fucking brother! When we first got together, you know what he said? He told me straight out that he would never truly be in love with me! Do you know what it's like to have your lover scream out someone else's name when they cum! Do you?" He let go, stepping away, a wet trail being left behind as his cock fell out. "I wish it was you who fucking died."

Sitting on the counter in shock, Alfred allowed himself a few seconds to get his breath back. Was Ismael just fucking with him again, or was he dead serious? It definitely didn't seem as if he was making up the hurt look in his eyes. "No one needed to die Ismael, it wasn't like they meant to kill him." He commented, not quite sure why he felt like comforting the bastard.

"Bringing a gun to hold up a corner store, sure as hell sounds like they meant to kill someone." The worst part was that Matthew was there to buy him cigarettes. Said he was going that way anyway, coming to his house, said it was no big deal. He turned away, looking out the window. "I need someone to blame." Besides himself, of course, because he had been blaming himself so much these past few weeks that he was having nightmares that it was him pulling the trigger.

Alfred slipped off the counter with a grimace before walking over to Ismael. "Then don't fucking blame me, blame the guy." He could feel himself reaching out to touch the other man's shoulder, but he stopped himself as a sharp pain when up his spine from being stretched.

Moving away, Ismael didn't even care that he was walking around his house naked, with an erection sticking out. "Trust me, if I blamed you, you would know it already. I only hate you from before. I mostly blame myself."

Torn between wanting to stay and be upset together and wanting to get the fuck out of there, Alfred went with the latter and grabbed his clothes from the floor. Every once in a while he would make a grunt of pain, but once all but his shirt was on again - his erection willed away- he muttered. "I'm getting the fuck out of here just like you wanted." Pausing at the door, he added. "And don't put off visiting Matthew." Even with all of his comments, Alfred couldn't help but feel that Ismael over exaggerated. Matthew was happy with Ismael... Wasn't he?

Walking into his bedroom, the Cuban didn't know what to do. He didn't want to deal with his erection, so he just left it, but his anger and pain was still there. "Argh!" He yelled, punching a hole in the wall. Shaking out his hand, he swore under his breath. After all the punches today, he was surprised it wasn't broken.

So, here it is! We will be posting this every Tuesday. Not sure exactly how long it will be... But we hope everyone will enjoy a rare pairing!