Nefarious Deeds
by Gadget 151
URL: http://www.bluecatsgraphics.com/pean/fanfics/88/

Author’s note:
I’m reasoning that Charles is older than Aloysius by at least two years, so then that makes him four years older than Diogenes. Part 1 takes place just after the death of their parents when Diogenes is 17, Aloysius is 19, and Charles is around a late 20 or early 21. Part 2 takes place when Diogenes would have been 15. When Charles would’ve been around 18 or 19.

Part 1

Charles watched him sleep.

Aloysius lay curled up tightly beside him; face as expressionless as always, even in sleep. But he still looked peaceful. His back was to the wall and he was painfully vulnerable, Charles didn’t dare touch him; Aloysius had reflexes like a viper. And he was significantly more dangerous. But he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, the doctors had given him something for the pain and something else to help him sleep.

I should change the bandage... Charles thought, taking the younger man’s forearm into his hand

Blood had soaked through just a little, and he wondered if Aloysius would wake if he changed it. “Hey Al,” He whispered. “I’m going to change this for you; just sleep, I won’t hurt you Al.”

Some suicide watch, he thought. I leave him alone for five minutes and he cuts his arm open. If his parents were still alive...

But they weren’t, they’d been dead two weeks, Diogenes had vanished, and Aloysius wanted to stay here just a little longer before going back to England. The bandage came away easily enough, the cut was stitched tightly together but it stretched nearly the length of his forearm; from wrist to the bend of his elbow.

Charles had found him sitting against the bathroom wall, bleeding over everything, saying his name over and over again. Asking for his help, saying he was so very sorry...

And now Aloysius lay so passively, his arm bandaged akin to a mummy. Eyes closed and body limp with sleep against Charles’ body beside him in the bed. The new bandage went on and he pulled the blanket back around Aloysius. Couldn’t have him catching a cold when he’d only just survived his suicide attempt. An attempt that completely baffled Charles. Why? He wanted to know why. Aloysius had everything going for him; yeah his parents were dead and his brother had run off with barely a goodbye. But he still had school to finish, a future with some woman he would meet and fall in love with. There was no doubt of that; even Aloysius could see how handsome he was. With those pale blue eyes, that white-blond hair and just the so slender way he was built. But he’d tried to end it all, with a damn knife, not even a razor blade but a damn knife!

“Damn you Aloysius.” He’d said when the doctor had issued a blood transfusion. But he’d refused to leave him alone again. That was why he now slept—drugged—in Charles’ bed. He would stay for a week or two if Charles had his way. If Charles had his way—but Aloysius would never let him do those things...

He combed his fingers though Aloysius’ hair very carefully. “I don’t know what I’d have done had you died, Aloysius.”

“Nor do I.” Charles jumped, surprised and then hugged him.

The younger man gasped in pain, Charles pulled away quickly. “I hurt you?”

“It’s just my wrist,” He said. “I moved it wrong... Charles, I’m sorry I did what I did. It was selfish and stupid.”

I should hit you. Charles though. “Damn right it was selfish and stupid!” He put his hands on the younger mans’ shoulders. “Aloysius, had I lost you... I couldn’t stand that Al. First your brother, I know you didn’t really get along with him but I did, sometimes. And had you died too—”

“But I did not.” Aloysius said. “I’m okay, you kept me alive Charles, I didn’t want to die and you saved me from doing something very stupid indeed.”

Aloysius paused; surprised Charles by kissing his cheek. It took everything Charles had not to turn his head and capture the other man’s lips with his own. “Charles, this will sound strange; but would you kiss me back? I want to know what being kissed by you is like...” “I don’t know what to say.” Charles murmured. “Then don’t say anything. Just kiss me back, please; I know that’s what you wanted.”

So that’s what this is about? Because he knows I want it, he doesn’t, not really. But what if he hurts himself again because I don’t? And that thought settled it for Charles; he touched his lips to Aloysius’, softly like he’d asked.

However, Aloysius didn’t want soft or anything resembling gentle. Charles wondered how long he’d been suppressing his sex-drive; how long he’d denied himself fulfillment. But he didn’t really want to risk hurt him even by accident.

“Stop, Aloysius.” He said.

“You don’t really want me to stop.” He countered. It’s true, Charles thought. I don’t want him to ever stop. “This doesn’t mean anything to you!” He snapped and Aloysius jerked away as if burned; as if wounded.

I hurt him anyway; trying not to.

“But it does mean something to me!” Aloysius insisted. “Because I know it means something to you, it matters to me.”

Aloysius tried to kiss him again, and this time Charles didn’t stop him but instead he cupped the man’s head in his hands. Forced a heartfelt kiss on his lips; Aloysius was right, he was always right, because he was always in control. He maneuvered himself atop Charles while they kissed, he tried to pull the older man’s shirt off but he grabbed his wounded arm and squeezed. Aloysius gasped in pain and jerked away, sitting up right on his knees, holding the arm against his chest.

“Mercy,” He whispered. “My arm—”

“I know.” Charles said and squeezed the arm again.

“Ah!” His eyes filled with tears. “Charles, stop. Why?”

Charles kissed the tears away. “I wanted to hurt you, just a little. To show how you’ve pissed me off so much. You deserved that Al, you manipulative bastard and you know it.”

Aloysius was still cradling his arm. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Is that out of your system now?”

He isn’t even a little angry, Charles thought. Those drugs must be something.

He could feel the heat of blood on his hands. “Yes, I’m sorry Al. It won’t happen again.” He captured Aloysius’ lips with his own, rolling on top of the smaller man and pressing forward. He touched the red stained cotton gauze.

“Do you want me to change this now?”

“No, later.” Aloysius said. “It’s just going to bleed again anyway.” ...

And it did bleed again. When they were done fooling around Charles had him sit on the toilet lid while he cleaned the wound and replaced the bandage yet again.

“You’re so gentle with me.” Aloysius said fondly and touched the others hair with his free hand.

“You need gentle, Aloysius.” He said, dripping water over the stitches then drying it off before securing another bandage to his arm. He smiled up at Aloysius and kissed the bandage clasp.

“I want to say that I love you, but I know I only love what we’ve done.”

“I know what you mean.” Charles said. “You should get back to sleep, your medication is next to the bed.”

Aloysius frowned. “Why do I get the feeling you’re brushing me off?”

Charles kissed him quickly. “I’m not. You need to sleep... That way we can play more tomorrow.”

Aloysius smiled openly. “Okay.”

A few minutes later, Aloysius was once again curled up on his side in a medicated sleep. Charles lay beside him, amazed that he’d gotten what he’d been thinking about only hours ago. But honestly, he felt wary. Wary that the drugs were the only thing making Aloysius act the way he was.

They had grown up together, and Charles knew it wasn’t Al’s personality at all. On the other hand, maybe he’d been hiding those feelings for years and the death of his parents had pulled them forward. Or maybe that wasn’t it either’ maybe Aloysius had just thought he needed some one and Charles was the closest person. Whatever the case, he felt they were an item now. Together; for a while any way.

...

“I’m nothing but trouble.” Aloysius said the next afternoon. “Why do you eve put up with me?”

“Because I know you’re a baby.” Charles said and Aloysius swatted at him the same way a tiger cub swats at a butterfly. Harmless and playful.

“Seriously Charles.” He said.

“Fine. It’s like you said last night; I love what we do. And because I think we need each other. I don’t like being alone Al, and neither do you.”

“But we can’t love each other?” Aloysius ventured.

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t want to be alone.” Aloysius said softly.

Charles leant across the table and kissed him. “Then you won’t be.” He said. “But I’m not sure if that’s the same as loving someone.”

“We’ll find out.” Aloysius told him.

“That we will.” Charles smiled warmly.

...

The bed frame smacked against the wall when they fell into it. And they both laughed, kissed, tried to take the other’s clothes off. But Charles kept pushing his hands away.

“Just your clothes.” He murmured. “I just want to play with you, Al.” And he smiled. “My clothes are staying on for now.”

“Yes, okay.” He said.

Charles pulled Aloysius’ shirt off, then the soft denim jeans. His skin was milk white with little pale blond curls among hips that dominated his slender torso. Charles skimmed his hand over those curls and the other man squirmed wildly; laughing.

He bit his hip bone and lightly and Aloysius stopped laughing, moaned instead. He rose off the bed a little and Charles pressed him back down, kissing his flat stomach. He took his mouth lower after a moment, watching as Aloysius gripped the bed-sheets. He slipped his hands over Al’s thighs and in the next moment, he had put his mouth on his erection. Aloysius bucked his hips and Charles gagged a little, pulled back some.

“Charles, I’m about to—”

He climbed up Aloysius’ body, hand between his legs while he pressed their bodies together. Aloysius moaned and grabbed Charles’ upper arms. “Charles,” He said again and climaxed hard into his palm. Then the both of them lay breathing heavy and still.

“You’re my first.” Aloysius said when he could.

“You’ve never had sex?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never so much as kissed someone before I kissed you.”

He blinked. “I believe you.” Charles himself couldn’t boast the same thing however. He’d been with men and women before Aloysius. Even Diogenes one lonely and insane night: Aloysius would never know that though. The brothers didn’t talk much and Charles sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him.

“I’ve never been anyone’s first...” He said and ruffled Aloysius’ hair. He playfully bit his shoulder.

“Thanks for being mine.” He gave him a big, toothy smile. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. I’m going to take a shower.” He said but Aloysius had already dozed off.

He’d once asked his mom why women always wanted to chat after sex. “They shouldn’t have the energy to talk if you’ve done it right.” She’d told him. He looked over at Aloysius, satisfied he’d done it right.

...

In the shower, Charles found himself thinking about the admittedly two nights with Aloysius’ younger brother Diogenes. The passion the much younger man had shown both times was still more than he’d ever expected him to. Diogenes had thought his passion an ‘unbearable, searing heat.’ And indeed, it had been hot; Charles remembered every pleasant detail.

Part 2

“Are you looking for your brother?” Charles Duchamp asked the young redhead.

“No.” Diogenes answered.

“Then why are you here?”

“I want to be.” He said defensively.

Charles shrugged, started toward his room with Diogenes at his heels. He sat on the older man’s bed while he sat at his desk. For awhile they just stared at each other and then he simply couldn’t take it. Those damn mismatched eyes.

“Talk to me, kid.” He said and Diogenes blinked innocently. “Why are you here?”

Diogenes smoothed his hands on his jean. “I have a proposition for you.” He smiled. “Charlie.”

Don’t call me Charlie. He thought. “And that is?”

“I want to spend the night here with you, and I want us to have sex. No emotional strings attached.” He said it all with a straight face, no evil smirk, no dark glint in those eyes.

Charles blinked, disbelieving and with good reason. The things Aloysius had read and reported from his journals... Wild; those dark things. He looked into Diogenes’ eyes. “Here there be monsters.” Those eyes said.

“I’m serious Charles.” Diogenes insisted when he remained silent.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because I know you want my brother and I’m the next best thing.”

Oh my god. Charles thought. “Am I that obvious?”

Diogenes smiled again. “Only to me, brother doesn’t think that way.” Then he suddenly stood up and began to unlatch his belt.

Charles held up a hand. “Wait! That’s not how it works.”

“Yes it is. I’ve done this before; many times actually.”

Charles watched the detached way that he took off the belt; his eyes so very empty. “I don’t doubt that Diogenes.” He said quickly. “But you’ve only fucked, you’ve never made love.”

“I told you; I’ve had sex before.”

Charles shook his head. “It’s not the same thing Diogenes. Sex and love making are very different...”

“Then teach me.” He said, holding out his hands. “Teach me how to make love.” He sounded sincere but also a little condescending and skeptical.

“Okay.” Charles moved closer, put his hands on Diogenes’ shoulders. “It’s something slow and calculated, gentle and passionate...”

“So is sex.” He countered.

Charles’ hands moved up his neck and into his hair, cupped the back of his head. “Shut up and pay attention.”

He kissed Diogenes; slowly. Took his tongue along his lower lip until Diogenes opened his mouth enough to let him slip his tongue inside. Diogenes made a please little sound and sifted his fingers into the older man’s dark burgundy hair.

Diogenes pulled back a little. “Can I take your clothes off now?”

“Clothes are not an obstacle;” Charles told him. “They’re apart of the foreplay.”

“How long is foreplay”?

Charles moved on to kiss behind his ear. “It can last all night...”

“I doubt I can last that long without something stronger than kisses.” He said.

Charles moved onto the buttons of Diogenes’ shirt. “You’ll last,” He promised.

The whole time Charles couldn’t believe that he was even in the same room with Aloysius’ younger brother. On the other hand, he was glad to be touching Diogenes; he wanted to awaken the things he was sure the younger man had never felt before.

He let Diogenes’ shirt fall to the floor, he wore a white short-sleeve one beneath it. Charles put his hands under that shirt and found skin that was fire hot; he jerked his hands away.

“Jesus.” He whispered.

“It’s always like that with me.” Diogenes said furiously. “It’s an unbearable, searing heat. It rises when I’m aroused, it burns me and I hate it.”

Charles put his hands back to the hot skin. “No wonder you want your clothes off.” He jerked his shirt off with a sudden moment.

His torso was smooth with only a small line of hair leading from his belly-button into his pants. His chest was nicely muscled and defined, he wasn’t near as pale as Aloysius, but he was actually slightly tan. Maybe even a little golden. Charles leant forward and put his mouth on Diogenes’ neck, then trailed kisses up to his ear; once again sliding his hands into the ginger hair.

That was when Diogenes finally began to move; taking his hands along Charles’ back, then his chest and lastly wrapping them around his waist. They kissed again and then Charles backed off to throw his shirt to the floor. He kissed him again. However Diogenes wanted things to go faster. The heat of his skin was becoming more unbearable and if he didn’t get skin to skin with Charles soon...

He pulled Charles tight against him and fell back onto the bed then rolled atop him. Copied the kisses he’d been given; save for the fact that he bit his ear and neck.

“Can I take your clothes off now?” He asked and took Charles’ silence as permission to continue. He licked from collar bone to waist, took off shoes and then his pants; he wore plaid boxers beneath and he was hard.

“I leave these on for now.” He said as if to himself. Then he stood and took off his own pants, having planned for tonight, he wore nothing underneath.

“Holy shit.” Charles said looking up at him.

Diogenes only grinned slyly.

...

When he left hours later, Charles felt sore all over. He’d never been with any one so physically passionate, and that was all Diogenes was. Physical passion and desire. “No emotional strings attached.” And maybe there weren’t any on his side of things but Charles felt... Different. Just different. And wondering again and again what had caused Diogenes to come to him.

...

Charles got out of the shower in the present day. It hadn’t mattered then; hadn’t mattered days ago and it didn’t matter now. Diogenes had been lonely and wounded—both physically and emotionally—and Charles had given the comfort he craved.

The same thing Aloysius was doing here, looking for comfort. Charles was just more easily trusted than a prostitute. At least for Aloysius; he didn’t know where Diogenes went to get his fix. And he really didn’t want to think about it.

He just sat on the edge of his bed, drying his hair with a towel. And he watched Aloysius sleep.

Part 3

Author’s note:
It takes place just before Diogenes threatens Aloysius but after the death of their parents.



“No emotional strings attached.” He’d told Charles and what a lie that had been. For two years he’d been the only lover Diogenes had wanted but had denied himself. (Truthfully, there had been times in darkened hallways when he’d snuck a kiss and a caress while Brother was otherwise occupied.) Right now, however, Charles’ gentle touches and whispered instructions were what he craved. He craved Charles the same way an addict craved his fix. Diogenes hated that, the same way he hated the ‘heat’. He knew though, that Charles wouldn’t turn him away. And that he didn’t hate.

...

“You’re back.” Charles said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Are your parents’ home?” Diogenes asked.

“No, I’m alone.” He said as Diogenes moved past him. “Al’s in England but you’ve got this look on your face like you’ve been fighting with him.”

Charles peered at the much younger man, he was disheveled, with his ginger hair ruffled and mismatched eyes red around the edges. He wasn’t wearing a tie or even a somber suit but a pair of loose jeans and an earth toned sweater. His face and hands were scratched and-

“You’ve got blood on your neck.” He said.

It was like something had struck him, he moved so fast to wipe the blood away that he actually opened the mild wound.

“Diogenes, stop.” Charles took his handkerchief from his back pocket, licked one corner and held it to Diogenes’ neck.

The younger’s hands slid around his waist and he tensed. “Did you hate the first time?”

Charles glanced up but all Diogenes could see was scruffy burgundy hair. “With you? No, it was fun.”

“You tensed.”

“You surprised me.” He said and Diogenes felt the warmth of his breath a fraction of a second before he felt the tongue on his wound. “And you tensed too.”

“It felt wonderful.” He said. And I’ve surprised you a lot of times.

Charles smiled to himself. “I’m glad. Diogenes, who hurt you? And I need you to tell me, in all honesty, where you hid the bodies.” He’d meant it as a joke but Diogenes didn’t even crack a fake grin. He just shook his head and held to him all the more tightly.

“My parents are dead.” He whispered. “There was a fire, I know it was set by some one where we lived but I don’t know who. I heard them arguing with someone, but I was in the basement and then some one blocked the door off. I was rescued but...” His voice trailed off.

“I’m sorry,” Charles said, dumbfounded, but what else could he say? “Does Al—”

“He’ll be back in a few days.”

“What...what do you want me to do?” Charles finally asked.

Diogenes still hadn’t released him, but now his hands began untucking Charles’ shirt and touching the skin beneath.

“Are you sure?” He asked gently and Diogenes removed his belt in reply. “Not here though, okay?”

Diogenes just nodded and followed Charles to his room. It hadn’t changed much, like last time there were clothes on the floor. The desk was still the same old oak thing that was slowly decaying. But the bed was new and full; not the small twin bed from years ago.

“Lay down.” Charles said and took off his shoes then Diogenes’. He moved up the bed and removed the earth toned sweater, then the brown T-shirt underneath. “I’m going to help you relax first.” He said and began to unlatch the younger’s belt.

“Not when you’re touching me, Charles.” He replied softly.

Charles grinned at him, tugged the jeans over Diogenes androgynous hips and threw them onto one of the piles on the floor. Then he placed his fingers inside the waistband of his boxers.

“What about foreplay?” Diogenes asked huskily.

Charles wiggled his fingers. “Oh, I’m feeling very playful.” However, he didn’t take them off or even put his hands the rest of the way inside. What he did do, was take his tongue along Diogenes’ waist, from one hip to the other and back again. He took feather light kisses up Diogenes’ abdomen and chest. Both of which now had better definition (he’d really grown into himself) and felt more solid to the touch and had remained almost completely hairless. Except for those same ginger/gold curls leading from his navel and downward.

Curls that Charles loved to put his fingers in, and he knew that Diogenes loved it too. He put his mouth just over the younger’s groin, one hand massaging his thigh through the fabric of his boxers while the other twisted those curls between his fingers.

“Playful indeed.” Diogenes murmured almost too softly to hear.

Charles looked up into his eyes, slipped that hand on his thigh beneath the fabric and as close as he dared to Diogenes’ already semi-erect penis.

“Oh,” He moaned and Charles smiled. “Come up here.”

Charles did, pulling his body along Diogenes’. He held his upper half up with his arms and just let their bodies touch from the waist down. Diogenes frantically tried to undo the buttons of his shirt while Charles took his tongue from collar bone to the sensitive spot behind his left ear.

After a moment Charles used one hand to help with the rest of the buttons. Then he shrugged the shirt off and ran the same hand- though only the fingertips- down Diogenes’ chest and again to the waistband of the boxers.

Diogenes grabbed the back of his head and brought their lips together. At the same time he lifted his hips, giving Charles permission to do what they wanted. Charles pulled back from the kiss, tugged at the waistband.

“Do you like these?”

“No, not really.” Diogenes answered.

“Good,” And Charles kissed him fiercely.

In the next instant he felt cold, sharp steel sliding along his thigh. Then on his other thigh and his waist. Charles had cut away his boxers with the pig-sticker he kept under the pillow. He felt the unsharpened edge of the blade brush along the length of his penis and he withered, moaning softly.

It seemed that Charles felt very playful, more so than he’d originally thought.

“Did I cut you?” Charles asked.

“N-no.” He could only manage a breathy rasp.

“Good,” He said again. “Is the heat back?” He put his hand on Diogenes’ neck and felt the fire hot blood coursing just beneath the surface. It was back alright, full force. He didn’t know how the younger man could stand it.

“Do I get to cut your clothes off too?” Diogenes asked.

“I’m not giving you a knife.” He teased and nipped his left ear. “Who knows what you might do with that pig-sticker...”

“I want them off.” He growled.

“I know; they will be. But right now I’m having my fun with you.”

Diogenes reached between them and unzipped him. “It would be more fun if you were nude...”

Charles swatted his hand away. “Be patient damn it.”

Diogenes lifted his hips. “I’m trying but you’re not even touching my—Ah!”

Charles’ hand wrapped around his erect penis suddenly and pulled sharply down. After that, he was silent. When they’d first done this two years ago, Charles had felt intimidated by the larger dick of his new lover, but Diogenes didn’t care about size. He was all about sensation and satisfaction. Something Charles was talented at giving another person, especially now he was getting hard himself.

Charles bit the wound on his neck and Diogenes came off the bed, pushing at him. “That hurts.” He hissed.

“You like pain.” Charles countered.

“True, but I don’t want it this time...”

Charles understood. Pleasure was what he was after this time, maybe even comfort. Playful nips and scratches were alright, but he wasn’t interested in the real pain Charles knew how to inflict. Not this time anyway.

“You still want to go all the way?” Charles asked; he had to be sure; it was dangerous to do something that could make this lover angry.

Diogenes nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Good,” He said, moving away so he could take off the rest of his clothes. Then he stretched atop Diogenes, kissing him again.

He let Diogenes’ hands wander over him, let Diogenes push him onto his back and then lick the length of his erection. Charles felt his breath coming quicker; the younger man had become even more enthusiastic since the last time. Then he felt the sharp edge of teeth and for once he didn’t give the ‘no teeth’ warning.

“I’m on top this time, Diogenes.” He said.

Diogenes just nodded and it was agonizing to feel his warm mouth go up on him and then to slide back down again. Better or worse-?- Diogenes knew the effect he was having.

Diogenes took his teeth to Charles thigh and bit down hard enough to drawl little beads of blood. Charles grabbed his hair and jerked him away from the bloodied skin. “Ow, kid.” He snapped.

Diogenes only grinned at him and suddenly Charles felt his anger level rising. The kid had come here just looking for a fuck, how was Charles to even know if he’d been lying about the fire or not? Maybe he’d made it up so that he could take advantage like he had last time. Charles looked up into his bicolor eyes, searching for the younger man’s motive. He couldn’t see one; all he saw was unadulterated lust.

“What is it you really want?” He asked.

Diogenes looked at him from under his lashes; he had to have picked that up from his brother because no one did it as well as Aloysius. “I want you to touch me and to keep touching me because it feels so good.” He rubbed his length against Charles’ inner thigh.

Charles tightened his grip on the gingery hair. “Then stop biting.” Then next thing he felt was fingernails on the backs of his knees; that was when he lost it. Spinning and pinning Diogenes roughly beneath him, one arm crossed over his throat. “Diogenes—”

“That wasn’t a bite!”

“I know... This is.” Charles set his teeth in the side of the others man’s neck, puncturing the skin until his got a taste of copper, hand twisting in his hair, and then he pulled away; leaving a startled Diogenes on his bed. “Don’t go anywhere,” He warned him and left the room.

Diogenes suddenly felt cold, but he didn’t reach for the sheet. Charles had told him not to move and if he did, well, Charles did have quite the temper. He strained his hearing, hoping to hear a hint of whatever Charles was doing, but could only hear him moving around.

Then the slim, burgundy haired man came back into the room, holding something long and silken looking by his waist. He was grinning and his grey eyes had darkened to a cobalt-tinted hue.

“What have you got?” Diogenes asked.

Charles ignored the question but elaborated on the unasked one. “We talked about this once, after you had pushed me against a wall while Aloysius was talking to your father. Remember? I said if you tried to take me by force again, I’d have to tie you down...”

Diogenes’ heart increased speed to a maddening pound, thudding in his ears and burning in his veins like lightening. He remembered, it was actually a fond memory; very fond in fact.



Note for later, Charles is predominantly homosexual, the brothers are bisexual—but so far, Charles was the only male Aloysius has been with though he is attracted to other males.

Part 4

It was one of those silken rope-things that tied the curtains together in the kitchen. Charles tied it around Diogenes’ wrists and then secured them to the headboard of the bed. Diogenes gave them a test pull; found that he couldn’t get free. Of course, Charles didn’t want him to get lose and that was why he’d been tied to the headboard and not just tied down like he’d threatened years ago.

“Don’t move,” Charles said again. He bent over Diogenes’ thighs and once again palmed his erection, working his hand up and down like Diogenes had done with his mouth earlier. All Diogenes could do now, though, was watch and feel what Charles was doing. It was a hell of an aphrodisiac for Charles, he’d wanted to do this since the first time and now... now he could.

He heard Diogenes’ breathing speed up and become shallow; felt his muscles tense then relax. He knew that Charles wouldn’t hurt him and he was right, Charles didn’t have it in him to hurt just for the sake of hurting. But for play... well that was a different story altogether.

Charles sometimes felt like he had to punish himself when he hurt someone else—by accident or on purpose—or when he did something he wasn’t supposed to. But now that Diogenes was here, he could use that strange urge on him; and effectively kill two birds with one stone as it were. He put the knife on the pillow well within Diogenes’ line of sight, watching it himself and contemplating.

“What do you think?” He asked. Watched as Diogenes’ eyes roamed over the steel blade in by inch; oh that look was so hot.

“I think... you’ve finally lost it.”

“You’re one to talk.” Charles scoffed.

Diogenes glared up at him, eyes shielded by his lashes. “What’s gotten into you?” He asked. “Did Al give you my journals before he burned them?”

At the word burn, the look in Diogenes’ eyes became different, no longer fierce but depressing in stead. Charles moved away from him, sitting with his legs curled under him.

“Fuck, Charles, what am I doing?” He asked and tried to wipe beginning tears on his bare shoulder, but couldn’t because of his bonds. “Untie me, please; I don’t want to do this any more.”

And I don’t want to make you any more, Charles thought and leaned over him to do what he’d asked. Diogenes rubbed his wrist and then turned on his side, hiding his face with his arm. Charles petted his back comfortingly, and then caressed his hair.

“I should go,” He whispered.

“You need to stay.” Charles countered.

“Brother’s expecting me.”

“Al won’t be here until Friday, Diogenes. Just stay here for a bit.” He didn’t feel that strange urge of his any more; he felt a different feeling that made him want to protect Diogenes even though the younger man didn’t need the protection. Nor did he want it, not from Charles anyway. He needed Aloysius, his big brother, to give him that sense of safety he’d missed out on growing up. But Aloysius had never known how to be a big brother with all the rules that applied and Charles was an only child. So what did he know?

“No, you don’t understand. I need to leave now. I need to get out of here.” Diogenes slipped off the bed, feeling around for his clothes in the half-light. Charles didn’t bother to stop him, just watched and waited.

“Where are you going to go?” He heard himself ask and then wondered why he even cared. Oh, right, his folks were dead and mental instability was in large likelihood right now.

Diogenes tugged his pants back on. “I haven’t decided yet.” He said, tugged on his shirt. “I have to get back to my cousins’ house before they notice I’m gone, I shouldn’t have come here anyway.” The shoes went on now and he stood across the room looking sadly at Charles. “I’ll see you around Charlie.”

“Don’t call me ‘Charlie’, Diogenes. You know I hate it.” Charles said, sitting nude in the middle of the large bed. “And, yeah, I know that’s why you do it.”

Diogenes gave him an authentic—if miserable—little smile before pulling on the tan sweater. “Bye, I’ll see you... I don’t know when but I’ll see you.”

“Right, sure.” Charles said but he thought he felt the lie of he sentence, thought he knew Diogenes had no intention of coming back to see him. Not for a long time anyway. “Tell Al that I said hi.”

Diogenes nodded absently, unhearing and started to walk away. Then he turned back, looking over his shoulder with another expression reminiscent of his brother. “It’s been fun.” He said.

Charles shrugged nonchalantly, pretending he didn’t care even when he really did. “Yeah,” He said. “You’ll be around, I’ll be around, we’ll hit it off again some day.”

Diogenes gave his own nonchalant shrug and walked out without another word. Charles watched him go, not knowing that in less than forty-eight hours he’d have Pendergast in his bed again, even though it wasn’t the one he was used to, it would be the brother he’d always wanted in his bed.