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Verse
Supernova
- Joined
- May 8, 2011
After having been an absolute monster to his older brother, Bern had left Morgan there on the floor of their dad's study. The Couvette sons had never seen eye to eye, at least not since some forgotten years in their childhood, but Bern had certainly taken it too far when he roughly seduced his brother Morgan in costume, during the All Hallows Eve ball they liked to throw.
The day after, Bern woke up late.
He had some effects left from the way he'd behaved yesterday, but if there was something the cur could handle, it was a hangover. He was a veritable genius with dealing with that pain. Not that he needed to. His family riches afforded him the best medicine for it. But more that painkillers and elicit substances to cancel out the ones that had gone bad in his blood overnight, it was the home remedies that saved him. He smoked at the gothic balcony of his room, overlooking the yard. It was a smaller stone setting than his brother's on the other wall, which caught the sun, but Bern had learned to like it this way. He sighed and it made him look like a dragon, in no small part because his tousled black hair might as well have been plumes of charcoal, and his skin was otherworldly in the late morning bleeding in to noon.
He felt like the antagonist he was usually accused of being, then, elbows on the banister and forearms crossed, ashing onto the patio far below. It had been brimming with people, hours ago. He had spoken to them after he'd tricked Morgan into their father's office. And there he'd taken him. Turns out Morgan was sensitive in his mouth. Sensitive to his little brother's cock. Not that Morgan knew. The older brother and heir to anything of real value here in the Couvette estate, had always been so proper, even in his strained relationship to Charles, his sometimes lover. But Morgan was neglected, and Bern had seen that. Morgan was the very definition of strung too tight.
So, when Bern had come dressed as the black sheep of the family, and offered Morgan the adventure he'd always unknowingly sought out, it would have been unfair to expect the senior Couvette brother to resist. Bern could, after all, be very convincing. And who doesn't like a stranger in an animal skull? It was something dramatic for Morgan to look up at when he sucked the stranger's cock. Morgan didn't know that it was hid own flesh and blood looking back down on him, through those bleached eye sockets. Bern should have stopped it there. No more taking advantage while his brother was drunk off dad's liquor while the party they were supposed to host raged outside the office door.
But Bern didn't stop. He never stopped. That's why he was known as the rake of the family. And what do rakes do, when there are lanterns in the yards and leaves on the ground?
Before either of them knew it, he was fucking Morgan on their dad's desk, and Morgan was such a lovely little whore for it. Bern had another pull with his lungs from the cigarette as he thought about it. He saw Morgan's face on the smoke coming out. Dear big brother had splattered himself with his own seed before Bern had added to it. Collapsed on the floor, Morgan became the subject of his little brother's long-awaited revenge. Morgan killed the cigarette against the extended tongue of a gargoyle, and made a similarly beastly face, slick muscle out, at the images in his head, delighted.
He was quick in the shower, and reminisced over the compliance of his brother's ass, and the beautiful, dainty moans he'd dragged out of Morgan's mouth while fucking him. Could the man even walk, today? It didn't matter, Bern thought as he came and the water and suds swirled down the drain with his manly essence. He he dried off and stepped into a pair of gray jeans, and topped it with a crimson t shirt to go with his moonlight tan. He yawned and felt that horrible boredom threaten his heart as he collapsed on his bed, and turned the television on. Something violent and pornographic. Just like him.
The long youth was spread among the sheets, his black hair laid in snakes as he left his forearm on his forehead. He was still awash in the delights of having bested Morgan. But he would need another adventure soon. Maybe it was time to test out his array of machines, tucked away in their garage. Since mom and dad where away, there was no one to tell him to be careful about it either. He sat up, fully intending to do so, and pulled out a drawer in his nightstand, where three flasks of vodka made nautical, silver music. He was stuffing them into a leather jacket that also hosted the noises of jangling keys to whichever deathtrap he currently romanced in that garage, when he heard his bedroom door open. There were only two people who'd dare left in the state, since mom and dad were gone, and one of them should be nursing a sore asshole and throat, right about now. So it had to be his sister.
"Yeah?" he asked as he let the jacket fall to the floor with all its cargo. He sat back down on the bed. Sometimes sis could be entertaining too. Though he doubted she'd have anything on Morgan, right now.
The day after, Bern woke up late.
He had some effects left from the way he'd behaved yesterday, but if there was something the cur could handle, it was a hangover. He was a veritable genius with dealing with that pain. Not that he needed to. His family riches afforded him the best medicine for it. But more that painkillers and elicit substances to cancel out the ones that had gone bad in his blood overnight, it was the home remedies that saved him. He smoked at the gothic balcony of his room, overlooking the yard. It was a smaller stone setting than his brother's on the other wall, which caught the sun, but Bern had learned to like it this way. He sighed and it made him look like a dragon, in no small part because his tousled black hair might as well have been plumes of charcoal, and his skin was otherworldly in the late morning bleeding in to noon.
He felt like the antagonist he was usually accused of being, then, elbows on the banister and forearms crossed, ashing onto the patio far below. It had been brimming with people, hours ago. He had spoken to them after he'd tricked Morgan into their father's office. And there he'd taken him. Turns out Morgan was sensitive in his mouth. Sensitive to his little brother's cock. Not that Morgan knew. The older brother and heir to anything of real value here in the Couvette estate, had always been so proper, even in his strained relationship to Charles, his sometimes lover. But Morgan was neglected, and Bern had seen that. Morgan was the very definition of strung too tight.
So, when Bern had come dressed as the black sheep of the family, and offered Morgan the adventure he'd always unknowingly sought out, it would have been unfair to expect the senior Couvette brother to resist. Bern could, after all, be very convincing. And who doesn't like a stranger in an animal skull? It was something dramatic for Morgan to look up at when he sucked the stranger's cock. Morgan didn't know that it was hid own flesh and blood looking back down on him, through those bleached eye sockets. Bern should have stopped it there. No more taking advantage while his brother was drunk off dad's liquor while the party they were supposed to host raged outside the office door.
But Bern didn't stop. He never stopped. That's why he was known as the rake of the family. And what do rakes do, when there are lanterns in the yards and leaves on the ground?
Before either of them knew it, he was fucking Morgan on their dad's desk, and Morgan was such a lovely little whore for it. Bern had another pull with his lungs from the cigarette as he thought about it. He saw Morgan's face on the smoke coming out. Dear big brother had splattered himself with his own seed before Bern had added to it. Collapsed on the floor, Morgan became the subject of his little brother's long-awaited revenge. Morgan killed the cigarette against the extended tongue of a gargoyle, and made a similarly beastly face, slick muscle out, at the images in his head, delighted.
He was quick in the shower, and reminisced over the compliance of his brother's ass, and the beautiful, dainty moans he'd dragged out of Morgan's mouth while fucking him. Could the man even walk, today? It didn't matter, Bern thought as he came and the water and suds swirled down the drain with his manly essence. He he dried off and stepped into a pair of gray jeans, and topped it with a crimson t shirt to go with his moonlight tan. He yawned and felt that horrible boredom threaten his heart as he collapsed on his bed, and turned the television on. Something violent and pornographic. Just like him.
The long youth was spread among the sheets, his black hair laid in snakes as he left his forearm on his forehead. He was still awash in the delights of having bested Morgan. But he would need another adventure soon. Maybe it was time to test out his array of machines, tucked away in their garage. Since mom and dad where away, there was no one to tell him to be careful about it either. He sat up, fully intending to do so, and pulled out a drawer in his nightstand, where three flasks of vodka made nautical, silver music. He was stuffing them into a leather jacket that also hosted the noises of jangling keys to whichever deathtrap he currently romanced in that garage, when he heard his bedroom door open. There were only two people who'd dare left in the state, since mom and dad were gone, and one of them should be nursing a sore asshole and throat, right about now. So it had to be his sister.
"Yeah?" he asked as he let the jacket fall to the floor with all its cargo. He sat back down on the bed. Sometimes sis could be entertaining too. Though he doubted she'd have anything on Morgan, right now.