Vincent Nightray has never been his favorite person.
Since that pair of heterochromatic eyes stepped into his house, he did everything to expel him. Honestly, what a crazy idea that his father had to accept a stranger child into his home was? Ernest knew there was something behind, knew he was hiding some dirty past, and didn't care whether he was useful or not: just didn't want to live under the same roof of the boy. That smile, the pillows, curtains and ripped dolls that filled the house, the look of suspicion,everything irritated him. And, moreover, had brought his brother, Gilbert, to the house. "Sure," said the middle Nightray "how about adopt every child we meet on the street? Anyone can live here!" complained, with the consent of his older brother, Claude, and younger sister, Vanessa. His father escorted him, but didn't seem to struggle much.
And as Vincent grew up, it got worse. The adopted Nightray seemed to have a natural gift to win women - he only had to appear, give a smile and ready, they fell crazy about him. Ernest never admit that he was jealous, but let's face it, he was. He liked to go out with girls as much as the other, and even had the same intentions. In fact, they even were alike in some aspects, like Elliot said once (and never again, after seeing the displeasure of his brother). Vincent. Vincent. Someday, that name would ruin that family, he could bet on it .
"Vincent," he repeated with his back leaning against the wall, blue eyes staring at the other with disdain. How he hated that man. And yet - could 't break away from that situation. "Vincent, let me go," even though he was taller and apparently stronger, couldn't loosen up, hands denying his brother, knees trying to pull the legs of the other stopping his. The youngest just kept smiling that stupid and tempting smile as ever. "You do not want to hear my proposal, brother~?" Whispered in his ear, warm air touching the corner of it.
Vincent hated Ernest. This always wanted to harm to Gilbert, and anyone who threatened Gil, even if it were with a glare, deserved a beautiful and painful punishment. In fact, Vincent has never felt pleased by the Nightrays, even by his adoptive parents (Elliot was the only exception). It was natural that he didn't like Ernest.
But even so, was able to set his brother against the wall, passing his hand over the pale skin and provoke him. Could do this and many other things, and Ernest was able to accept them. Well, not entirely.
"You've been reading letters that do not belong to you, isn't it?" Vincent lips touched his neck lightly, but ready to bite him soon afterwards, "I was thinking…".
"I read what was in my power," and don't fucking call me brother, his mind throbbed, as it started to hurt his neck "who are you to tell me what I can read or not? You are just a—".
"Whether or not, I'm your brother," interrupted smiling "and an adult. It's not polite to read the letters of others" and with one hand down the zipper of the other's pants.
"It's not polite to have relationships with families traitors," replied "—what are you doing?!".
Perhaps the hand of the younger was below, much below what Ernest would enjoy - in a place where suitable nobles shouldn't touch and where his body was very sensitive against the tip of his fingers . A gasp and he tried to get away from that, but the cold wall against his back prevented any escape attempt - and, perhaps, the smiling lips, the attractive look and feeling of the wrong and pleasurable around them helped a bit. And those fingers. Ah, those fingers . They went down his pants enough to curl into his cock, squeeze from base to the tip, slowly. The blue eyes were fixed on his hand, face masked by a certain disgust, disgust of being handled by such experienced and friendly hands; but even if he pretended, couldn't hold his breath that grew more and more heavy, dense as the smell of his excitement that certainly wouldn't be not noticed by Vincent.
And how angry was him now, seeing that smile with the sweet taste of victory, even though at this time the younger kneel before him, submiting to give him a pleasure that didn't receive every day, especially from a brother.
A pink tongue experienced him, provocatively, to finally put all of Ernest into his mouth. The sight of Vincent sliding lips so perfect and hateful in his erection, trying to suck all of it made Ernest took a hand to his own mouth, preventing any sound out there. Damn, how a man could be so good at it? He could feel his brother's toungue rubbing on his sides, with his hand moving it up and down, and if that was not enough, sucking on it, making wet sound run the room. He should do wrong in the nights that went out, Vincent definitely did wrong things on his nights. A pop was heard when the connection between them disbanded, only to Vincent look up in a perfect image of lust: semi-open eyes, disheveled hair, cheeks painted in a deep red was too much for the elder. "Come on, brother, use your hands~" whispered before returning to his work, leaving the Nightray unresponsive for a few seconds.
Vincent wasn't doing it to please him, as he didn't feel right because it was Vincent who was doing. It was more, far beyond that. Both had that knowledge. So Ernest managed to reach his hands on golden hair, pulling his head back to completely get into his lips with a movement of his hips. His own lips dropped to react those sounds that formed deep in his throat, leaving them to leave, even though very low - and Vincent, to hear them, would smile if his mouth was not surrounded by a penis. It was wrong to accept it, submit to it, but how could he stop the blood that raced through his veins, wanting to slip into that mouth he hated more and more?
He fucked Vincent mouth first with long, slow strokes, to let them more violent, frantic, needy, at one point he was probably hurting his brother, and cared little (or nothing at all) for that. The legitimate Nightray threw his head back as he came so fast and ecstatically as imagined would come, holding Vincent's head until he finished to release, until the last drop was swallowed itself.
When finished, detached his hand, leaning completely on the concrete while Vincent stood up licking his own lips. And to his surprise, kissed him, making Ernest feel the salty taste of his big mistake. "We agree then" Vincent turned away, packing up and left, leaving Ernest on that totally deplorable state.
Oh, how he hated that man. He sure would avenge that. Not today, of course, but would. The heterochromatic of his eyes, his teasing smile and warm hands. He would.