The sound of calm ocean waters muffled by thick walls was tempting. Alluring. Ridiculing. It brought forth recollection of once being one with the calm ocean waves able to master their dynamics and utilize their properities. A chi flow that once soaked into the blood stream now cut off, leaving behind a dead feeling that sank into one's very bones. While most saw this as a loss of love for life, succumbing to depression and no longer caring for their own body, it only made Councilman Tarrlok, former Councilman to be exact, all the more determined.

Alas, determination could not break the steel bars that barricaded him from escape. Spaced out just enough to keep him within but allow sight of the empty expanse of room, there wasn't much to be noted. A trap door that led down below, a window that looked out upon Air Temple Island, captured by the Equalist party. The room held no furniture or decoration, unless his makeshift prison could be considered such. The colors were drained of life, walls a dull gray and the wood floor brown. There wasn't much happiness in the room, but it fit his ill mood.

His shoulders felt weighted with his newfound knowledge, discovered upon losing his bending. It also burdened his heart, letting it sink low in his chest as he brewed silently. Back pressed against the opposing wall, he had long since given up pacing to instead sit, knees partly drawn to his chest with his arms draped across them. His hair, once neatly separated in three ponytails that extended to just beyond his shoulder blades, was messed and loosened from its confines, strands splayed across his face and obscuring view of his eyes. He no longer cared much to look pretty, as he had once strived to do. His clothes were unclean and smelled of the mountains, any perfume that had clung to his skin replaced by the faint aroma of sweat and distress long past. Once straight in posture, he was now partly hunched, his eyes glowering holes into the floor beneath him.
If only.
It would serve as a fine escape.

As time rolled on by, he found boredom to be sinking in. Sighing, he reclined back, head resting against the wall.

"I had thought you had died, Noatak," he murmured to himself, reflecting upon his knowledge. His memories of a boy plagued by his father's desires, running away into the mountain cold never to be seen again had been replaced by a images of a tyrannical man that sought out a delusional idea of equality, kept hidden behind a mask. Tarrlok couldn't imagine his childhood friend, his brother, the one that had played with him and defended him, had become so warped.
Then again, so had he.
Both had been twisted into this fate by Yakone, unwillingly of course. Who knew they would meet again?

Tarrlok had been so certain that the frigid weather of their homeland had killed Noatak. It was amazing for a teenage boy to endure such trials. Nearly impossible. Yet he knew that Amon was not who he said he was, that he was who Tarrlok knew he was. That brief connection, that power that had flowed into his veins and sapped him of his bending, had told all. Amon was not a non-bender who had been victim of a firebender's attack. No.

His brother.
He was his brother.
Amon.
Noatak.
He had truly become their father.

So lost in his thoughts, he hardly noticed when the hatch door was unlocked and brought open. But the sound of boots against a ladder was unmistakable, rousing him from his thoughts as he tensed. Expecting one of the Equalists, he was shocked when finding he had been granted company with the very man he had been thinking of. While his desire for answers and reasons for why Noatak had become this way were just as strong as the urge to hug him, to weep with joy that he was alive, his big brother, Tarrlok met him with a cold expression. "What an honor it is to be able to see you again, Amon," Tarrlok greeted him, tone crisp and cutting. It lacked the love that burned in his chest, which he suppressed under the knowledge of what Noatak had done. "I had been expecting you to be too busy to visit your prisoner."

He was met with a rumbling chuckle, irked that his words had little effect upon the man. Besides eliciting amusement, that is.
"It is wonderful to see you as well, Councilman Tarrlok. Yes, you are correct; I have quite the busy schedule. But with the rally being tonight, I have some time to spare before I head off to my duties." Slowly, the masked man approached the prison he had crafted just for his brother, Tarrlok pressing back as to elude the other. He didn't know what he intended nor of what tricks he had up his sleeve. He didn't particularly want to find out, either.
"It is a pity you had to try and go against me, Tarrlok. Even kidnapped the Avatar and her friends in your desperation," chuckled Amon, Tarrlok sensing the grin behind the mask in his voice.
"And now here we are. You, a prisoner due to your own mistakes. You are a smart man, too. This is unfitting."

Tarrlok spat upon the ground, his unbound hands clawing into the floor boards angrily.
"You are just as crazed as I am, Amon," he hissed, voice turning venomous. All he saw was indifference in that mask void of emotions. What truly laid behind it? What was he thinking?
"Or should I be calling you big brother? It is only right I call you by your birth name, Noatak."
Tarrlok was bitterly disappointed when he still was met with little response, though he supposed the silence that cloaked them was something of an achievement. Perhaps Amon didn't have something witty to say this time around.

Instead, Tarrlok tensed as the man closed the distance between himself and the bars, expecting some sort of attack. Rather, he was met with a sigh.
"I had a feeling that you stumbled upon my identity, dear brother. That look on your face after I had removed the bending from your body spoke further horrors than any other I have equalized. A newfound knowledge you wished you hadn't discovered."
Tarrlok grimaced, turning his face away as his brows furrowed. Amon, or Noatak rather, continued.
"I am sure you now wish that I had died in those mountains rather than be faced with this bitter reunion, eh, brother?"
Tarrlok turned his eyes back up, his expression molding itself into a look that intermixed both shame and anger.
"I never would wish such a thing. Even if so twisted now you are still my brother, and I-!"
Tarrlok realized he had spoken too much, biting his tongue as he recoiled, having leaned forward in his brief tirade. Averting his gaze once more, he nearly winced as Noatak laughed, so cool and composed despite the situation.

"I see our brotherly bond has yet to quite die, and still burns strong in you, Tarrlok," he mused, Tarrlok wisely keeping his mouth shut this time around. Accepting the silence, Noatak instead busied himself with withdrawing something from his pocket. Tarrlok was startled when hearing the click of the door to his prison be opened just after the sound of it being unlocked, a jangling set of keys tucked back away into Noatak's coat.
Every muscle in him screamed to run as Tarrlok found himself staring up into the eyes of his brother, too frozen to even bolt through the door that was soon closed behind Noatak. Not that there was any point. His brother could easily subdue him without wasting any precious energy.
"So startled you look, brother," murmured Noatak, Tarrlok trying to find his words as the other crouched; suddenly all too close for comfort.

Expecting to be strangled, carrying vital information that could sabotage Noatak if getting, he was instead shocked as the other pulled away his mask. Tarrlok always had a vague idea as to what his brother looked like; an image formed over the years as he wistfully remembered the sibling he had lost. But, it was always based off of a younger image from their boyhood, forcibly made older in his mind's eye. The mental image could not compare to how handsome his brother had grown up to be, his face smooth and lacking the masculine dips and contours that Tarrlok's own boasted, mimicking their father while Noatak's face was softer. His jaw was strongly pronounced, though, certainly only adding to his good looks, eyes the same stunning blue as his loosened short, silky brown hair fell about his face. He was clean shaven, not a single blemish evident on that beautiful face Tarrlok had missed for so long. There was no doubt in his mind that this was his beloved big brother, brought back to life from the graveyard of his mind.

"You look so enraptured, Tarrlok."
The former councilman stirred, a tint of red entering his cheeks as he winced, caught. It was shameful for him to be admiring the looks of his brother, of the wretch that had hurt Republic City. But he could not help it.
"But, that is alright. I had been the same when I had first been able to see you again."
Taken aback, Tarrlok looked baffled as he listened to the soft voice of his brother, lowering itself from its rough and calculating edge as it instead morphed itself into something more of the younger man liking. Yet, he shouldn't favor it; he shouldn't be falling into that abyss that Noatak was trying to get him to—

Warm lips smothered his own in a kiss, sending a shockwave through Tarrlok. If he hadn't been tense before, he had become stone now. Even as Noatak pressed closer to him, their chests brushing lightly against one another as his hand caressed his sibling's cheek, Tarrlok did not move. How does one react when their enemy and also their brother kiss them?
Mind scrambled and unable to comprehend what was occurring, Noatak pulled away before Tarrlok could figure himself out. If he could even manage that.
"Most of my followers are outside patrolling," murmured Noatak into Tarrlok's ear, the former councilman's eyes as wide as saucers as he still tried to figure out what had just happened.
"But there remain some inside. So, you will have to be quite for me, whether you like it or not, to save yourself the humiliation of being caught this way."
Tarrlok found himself angry upon receiving the threat, his face reflecting his newfound temperament as he snarled, "You really are sick, you bastard! This will soil your reputation just as well as it will cause those idiotic followers of yours to—"
He was quieted by those lips again, this time pressing harder against him as he stiffened, words swallowed as his hands crawled up. Though his intent was to push Noatak away from him, fingers curling into the cloth of his coat and the shirt beneath, he wasn't able to summon the energy to do so, or even the will.
Victim to the other man, two conflicting sides warred in Tarrlok's head, one screaming of how wrong this was, how he should fight. The other reasoned that it was only this one time. He never would have to see this man ever again.
Besides, it was his brother. Did he not remember his love for him, the love he now tried to conceal with hate?

Either way, he had to succumb. He did not desire to be caught in this vulnerable position, his brother kissing him with a passion meant for a lover. They were siblings, this wasn't right! Yet the pleasure that unwillingly coursed down his spine spoke otherwise, Tarrlok trying to lean back away. He didn't want this, he didn't want this. Noatak was stubborn, only capturing his lips once more as he held close. Tarrlok tightly closed his eyes in frustration, hiding the internal conflict that was occurring between both his love and his hate. Damn this man, damn him to Hell!

Desiring none of this affection, this affection from lips that had expelled such foul words in the past, Tarrlok finally managed to pull back away. Drawing in gulps of air, he looked flustered as he leered back at Noatak, who merely smiled. Recollecting his mask still clasped in his left hand, Noatak was prompt in discarding it, instead lifting both hands to Tarrlok's face. His brother flinched, but was kept still as a palm gently touched to his cheek, the other hand smoothing away the hair in his eyes. It was that same soft touch from their boyhood, from whenever Tarrlok would stumble and Noatak would catch him. His tears gently brushed away by those tender fingers, his wild hair tucked over an ear. Noatak had practically mothered him whenever he had been upset or hurt, the first person he would go to for help. Swamped in nostalgia, Tarrlok, for the first time since Noatak had entered the room, relaxed. Yet, he refused to meet Noatak's eyes, averting his gaze as he tried to pretend he was not there. That he did not feel anything for this man.

"Oh, my brother dear," sighed Noatak, Tarrlok resisting the temptation to look over. "I suppose I cannot change my actions or my beliefs. As much as I would like to win your favor, the past is set in stone, as is my mission. Surely you understand this?"
Affectionately, he rested his forehead lightly against Tarrlok's right temple, his free arm curling about the other's midsection in a half-embrace. Tarrlok nearly melted into his touch, that love that equaled his own, but instead shifted back as though to try to escape.
"You have become too much like father, it is revolting," he muttered, Noatak tensing against him. His eyes darkened, his expression become sad and bitter before softening.
"… You must realize how your words hurt me, Tarrlok. I had never wished you harm. If only you had come to my side, we could have been brothers again."
The tone of sadness struck a chord in Tarrlok, tugging at his heart strings as he looked over at the other, unable to stop himself. From angry and unrelenting, he looked just like a child again, afraid of having disappointed and upset his big brother. It was hard not to, for his heart seemed to be stronger than his mind today.

Eyes connecting with Tarrlok's, Noatak could not help but smile when seeing the reaction he had drawn from the younger man. He was still like he remembered him, if not a little more stubborn. But he remained just as soft and pure in heart.
"You torment me, I am tired of it," whispered Tarrlok, hints of his aggravation showing through his voice. His internal agony, his turmoil.
"Then don't think of me as Amon. Forget my deeds and remember me as Noatak," the other man murmured, beginning to lean in again. Tarrlok did not move, no longer attempting to escape as his ice-cold eyes began to melt as he was lost in memories.
"At least, for the time being."
Noatak wasn't met with reluctance this time, even if Tarrlok merely let the kiss happen. Whether he participated or not did not matter to Noatak, it was all up to Tarrlok. All he cared about was the time spent, feelings once bottled up beginning to spill forth.

His hands crawled downward, roving across Tarrlok's broad chest as he felt out the similarities that the two brothers shared the dips and contours, the muscle built upon a fit body. The clothes that hindered his exploration were a bother, but would have to wait for now. He doubted Tarrlok would be keen on discarding the thin layer of protection, still being uncomfortable with the situation. Lips parting, his mouth instead retired to Tarrlok's throat, kissing and tasting salty skin as he felt the other shiver beneath him. Smiling, he could not resist the temptation to sink in his teeth, Tarrlok tensing with a growl of warning and pain. Blood dribbled into his mouth, tongue soothingly lapping at the mark created in apology.
Tarrlok was his and his alone, for they were bound by blood.
No one else could surpass that.

Dipping down lower, the man beneath him still seemed to be struggling with what he thought was right and what he knew wasn't, but still wanted. The constant tensing of his muscles spoke enough of this, Noatak feeling them through his clothes against his fingers. Without much warning, he rested the side of his head against the younger's chest, right above his heart. Tarrlok looked confused as he stared silently at the other in questioning, only to be met with a warm look.
"Your heart is beating loud and fast. Anxious, are we?"
Gritting his teeth as Noatak pulled away, Tarrlok flushed angrily, opening his mouth to rant when silenced by the other's lips. He had a knack for doing that. Distracted as he forcibly relaxed, he didn't even notice the hand smoothing away his coat until it had pooled around him, leaving the shirt behind. However, he did happen to notice when Noatak's hand crawled beneath his shirt, recoiling back as felt his warm touch skim across his abdomen, feeling the muscles that lay hidden there.
"Relax," cooed Noatak in his brother's ear as he withdrew from Tarrlok's mouth, closing the distance that had been created between them again.
"You should know by now I would never hurt you."
Tarrlok bit his tongue at that, remembering Noatak's taking of his bending. He did not know of the pain he had enacted upon him that night.

But he did as told nonetheless, eyes closing tightly as the other worked on peeling away his shirt, which clung to his body due to sweat and melted snow. The strong, muscular body tinted with a natural tan was soon exposed to the cool air, Tarrlok turning his head away as his brother kissed and felt, his hands hungry as they roamed over his bare flesh. The sensations elicited, the pleasure just from Noatak's touch, felt no forbidden and taboo. It was something he should not be enjoying, yet as Noatak pressed his lips lovingly to his stomach Tarrlok felt himself melting.
Melting, melting into this bliss he should not be allowing himself to savor.

Noatak did not appear to be suffering the same ailment as he went further down, not quite yet satisfied with what he had so far. Suddenly finding his path of travel hindered by Tarrlok's pants, he peered back up into the face of the other. His cheeks were tinged red, his eyes closed and face turned. Breathing shallow, his attempts at controlling himself were blatant and endearing. Chuckling, Noatak focused himself on his new mission, put into action as he gradually removed Tarrlok's last articles of clothing. When feeling cool air around an area that should not be exposed, Tarrlok immediately tensed, jerking upright as his eyes snapped open.
"Noatak, d-don't—" he gasped, only to sag as warm fingers curled about his half-hard erection, a thumb caressing the tip with care as Tarrlok bit back a moan. Noatak smirked in entertainment as Tarrlok's face became all the more red, looking so beautifully conflicted as he fought with his desires once more.
"I don't know why you struggle with yourself, Tarrlok," Noatak chided in disappointment, admiring the stiffening penis in his hand as he stroked long and slow, Tarrlok twitching and shifting beneath him. "It is already obvious as to what you want. If this isn't evidence enough, then I don't know what is. A signed explanation by the last Avatar himself?"
Grining, Noatak leaned down, Tarrlok finding himself emitting a whine rather unfitting for a man of his status as his member was brought partly into his sibling's willing mouth. Air seemed to be something hard to come by suddenly as Noatak's tongue glazed his erection with saliva, Tarrlok clenching his teeth together to suppress any noises daring to try and come out.
He was all too aware now of the danger of their activities being heard.

Sucking hard, Noatak tasted precum on his tongue as Tarrlok gasped, unable to help but release a groan that was mixed with a bit of a growl.
"N-Noatak…. Stop… I c-can't…"
Tarrlok felt both relief and disappointment as Noatak did as asked, withdrawing from Tarrlok's need, which now had begun to weep with his desire for completion. Eyes fogged and at half-mast, he blinked in confusion as Noatak drew three of his fingers into his own mouth. He flinched at the erotic sight as he slathered the digits with saliva, removing them after a few moments. A string of liquid connected the fingers and his mouth for only a moment longer, Noatak licking his lips to break it. Leaning in, Tarrlok felt highly uncomfortable when that hand drifted back down to his nether regions, Noatak's lips ghosting across his own.
"This may hurt some, but you'll just have to relax," he murmured, Tarrlok realizing what was intended. No, he didn't think he wanted to go this far. He wanted to change his mind. But already Noatak was following through, Tarrlok tensing as he felt something foreign prodding inside of him, the feeling uncomfortable though not quite yet painful.
"I have been waiting so many years to see you again, Tarrlok," muttered Noatak; his words brimming with his love as he felt the other's constricted muscles begin to relax around him, becoming accustomed to the sensation. Kissing along his younger brother's jaw, Noatak could not resist a smile. Tarrlok had close dhis eyes, not wanting to see what was occurring to his body as he instead focused upon Noatak's voice.

Nuzzling his face against his brother's throat, Noatak added another finger, slowly and gently as he gradually loosened the muscles there. Tarrlok gritted his teeth, drawing in a sharp breath as Noatak kissed his cheek.
"I have only imagined how you have grown up, Tarrlok. I had always envisioned you'd take more after father; you always have, even if not in personality. No, you remain the more innocent of us both, the good at heart. I only wish I could be like you, my brother."
Tarrlok softened in expression, hearing nothing more than gentle words of confession being spoken into his ear. Perhaps there remained some good in his brother. Perhaps he had not been entirely corrupted.
And then the third and final finger was slipped in, Tarrlok gasping.

"N-Noatak…!"
His own hand tightly gripped his brother's free one, Noatak surprised as the younger man buried his face in his neck as the older leaned back up. Almost instantly Noatak relaxed, finding this moment of weakness to be something that touched him. The realization of how much he missed Tarrlok's company came home, hitting hard as he soothed the other, feeling the hollowness in his chest, and that aching desire to fill it. He missed Tarrlok, short and simple. He doubted he would be able to part with him anytime soon, at least until he had to go to the rally.
Draped in silence, Tarrlok did not move from his brother, feeling a similar need as he desired nothing more than to be close to Noatak. Why was it that they had to be trapped in this situation? Already Tarrlok had an ominous idea of what was to come, the fate they both shared, but he shoved it aside, focusing it on the now.

The pain began to ebb, Tarrlok letting out the breath he found he had been holding, feeling Noatak pull away now that he was fully relaxed. Discarding his clothes, the attire that kept him to the name of 'Amon', when in nothing but his flesh he was Noatak. There was no claim, nothing that could say otherwise. For tonight, he was both Tarrlok's brother and his lover, nothing more than that. Noatak found he all too happy with this.

Cool air washing over both of their heated bodies, temperatures rising high, Noatak rested against Tarrlok, doing nothing as they let themselves soak in the silence, Tarrlok cradled in Noatak's arms. Finally, the older man shifted, turning his eyes to Tarrlok.
"Are you ready?" he asked lowly, for once searching for Tarrlok's permission as he looked into the eyes that met his own. Tarrlok hesitated, knowing after this there would be no going back. But he ignored the temptation to back out, nodding, for the first time truly compliant with what was to occur. Noatak waited a few more seconds in case Tarrlok were to change his mind, only to find that the other was set in his decision. Heart warmed, the younger man's choice gave him some hope that their bond had not been entirely lost. His Tarrlok was still in there.

"Alright, but just say if you want to stop."
His voice was reassuring and low, like milk and honey to Tarrlok's ears as he closed his eyes, feeling the other rest on hand on a hip while the other curled about the muscular, tan body beneath him.
As much as Noatak had tried to prepare him, the sensation of being forced into did not feel good in the slightest. Tarrlok hid most of his pain behind a mask, much like Noatak hid his own visage behind a mask made of physical material. That did little to lessen his agony, feeling as though his insides were being torn as Noatak's length was fully encompassed by the younger man, Noatak emitting a low, sultry groan. Good to know that he was feeling wonderful.

Tarrlok, unable to help himself, wrapped his arms about Noatak's broad shoulder blades, his body so much like his own as the other man forced himself to resist the temptation to move, to allow Tarrlok to become accustomed. It was difficult to relax, but the former councilman managed it, given some help from Noatak as the older man whispered soothing words in his ears and kissed all over his throat. Tarrlok, eyes closed, had missed out on the elated expression Noatak had bore when he had hugged him tight, their bonding all too thrilling for his big brother. It could not be helped, when Noatak had surely thought Tarrlok had lost so much love for him. Finally, unable to take it anymore, Tarrlok growled, desiring to get this done and over with.

"Noatak. M-move," he commanded a bit shakily, grimacing at the stammer. It could not be helped when trapped between both pleasure and pain, though currently pain was overriding it all.

Noatak looked at Tarrlok as the younger man opened his eyes, gazes connecting. Seeing the pain so evident in Tarrlok's expression, even if the rest was kept well-hidden, Noatak was a tad bit reluctant, but obeyed. Slow and steady, a rhythm was found for the time being, the Equalist leader attempting to soothe his brother's ailment by reaching down, his fingers curling around his erection as he stroked. Tarrlok shuddered and moaned beneath him, the mixing sensations confusing his brains as to what should be felt. Pain or pleasure? It seemed to settle with both, because that was all Tarrlok felt, confliction seeming to be the theme of his body today as Noatak rocked into him.

Then, something was struck within him, washing away any hint of his agony as his eyes popped open wide. He clung tighter to his brother, gasping as his back arched.
"Hnnn, Noatak," he moaned, unbelievable pleasure bathing his tense body, causing it to relax as he dug his fingertips into the other's back. Noatak grinned in satisfaction, having discovered that particular spot in Tarrlok that would ward off any pain. For now, at least. Later, the younger man would be quite sort. Finding a bit faster of a tempo, Noatak interlocked their lips, the hand formerly at Tarrlok's hips burying itself in his hair, for once Tarrlok leaning into the older's mouth hungrily. Lust overcame reason, Tarrlok finding himself wanting nothing more than his brother's body, his touch, his lips upon his own. He had become some sort of delectable treat he could not get enough of.

Yet, it was all not meant to last as he felt his time becoming short.
Noatak pressed closer still to Tarrlok, groaning into the younger man's mouth as hugged him close, Tarrlok's own noises of pleasure smothered by the mouth upon his own. It was certainly a blessing, seeing as how the cry that escaped him would have been loud enough to alert any of the Equalists in the building. Muscles in his abdomen tightening, his eyes clenched shut as he came, semen splashing across his stomach as Noatak groaned, sinking into his sibling's body one last time before the tightened muscles around him pushed him over the edge.
Full and feeling a bit disgusting, the afterglow of sex overrode this, pleasure numbing his brain as Tarrlok panted, resting his forehead upon Noatak's shoulder as both men caught their breath.

After a minute of gulping in air and recovering from what had occurred, Noatak slowly withdrew, Tarrlok grimacing in pain. Expecting the other to leave, now that he had gotten what he had wanted, Tarrlok shifted to try and fetch his clothes. He felt too sore to be bothered with it, but he didn't feel like being caught naked, having enjoyed himself or not. As he reached for his shirt, he paused, finding Noatak had wrapped his arms around his midsection and drawn him close.

"Stay with me," murmured Noatak, Tarrlok blinking as he looked back to find the man resting his face partly against his shoulder, expression pleading. Hesitating, Tarrlok succumbed, shifting back from his abandoned mission to fetch his clothes as he wrapped his arms around his sibling in turn, the two remaining curled up upon the floor together, desiring to forget the world around and what the future held.

Author's Note;;

So, it would seem most people desire my other fic to be non-slash. And despite my temptations, I will do that to satisfy you all cx Thus, to please myself and those with a similar mindset, I typed this up~ Sorry about the length, I got carried away. It went from simple lust and nothing else to something really angsty and sad. I guess that is what happens when you listen to sad music while typing out something between two brothers trapped in a bad situation :U I'll probably start another multi-chapter story surrounding these two that is slash, probably a continuation of Ocean Carnage once I finish that one. What do you guys think? See you when I write next~