The Society

by Michelle Brown

  “Anywhere you are, I want to be. Anything you do, I’ll be right by your goddamn side, and Atlas—” He bristles. “—I’m not giving up on this thing between us. After the other night? You’re mine. Now, forever, even after, my fucking soul needs yours.”

  Our foreheads connect, our breathing heavy with emotions that aren’t usual for me. Intense. Desperate. Heady. Somehow, our lips meet, making me drop the rest of my joint to grab his face, holding him hostage to my mouth. We kiss for what feels like hours. It’s hot and desperate; each shared touch of our mouths feels like ecstasy, too intense, but effervescent in the best way.

  “What the fuck?” Sam grumbles groggily, breaking me from our moment together. He’s banged up, leaning against the tarp I placed him on. His eyes are barely open, and he appears more drunk than he should be, but either way, his life ended the moment he touched Lena—Elena, our cousin—without her say-so.

  “The time has come. Your end,” I announce, moving around my brother. He raises an eyebrow. Sam appears confused, making me chuckle darkly. It hasn’t been that long since he passed out—it’s not like someone can forget being a worthless piece of shit. “You shouldn’t have touched what wasn’t yours to touch, Sam.”

  “She was asking for it, the fucking tease,” he barks carelessly, grimacing. I lean down, gripping his stupid face in my hand.

  “You will die, James. If your parents are smart, they’ll leave town and forget you existed. If not, I’ll be sure to fix that problem too.” His eyes widen, realization showing in his face.

  “I-I didn’t mean to, s-she came on to me! Kissed me!” he cries, sniveling. It’s appalling, that he believes a woman doesn’t have the right to say no, deny him. It’s her fucking body.

  “You’re a waste of humanity,” I hiss. “Women aren’t toys. If they kiss you and then change their mind, you stop. You don’t fucking push and try for something that isn’t yours to take.” I spit in his face, smearing it around with my fingers. “Now, you’ll die like the filth you offered Lena.”

  Turning to my brother, I smile wildly. “I’ve changed my mind, brother.”

  He narrows his eyes in confusion, but curiosity simmers in the curves of his lips. “What’s that?”

  “He’s filthy, Kenji. To cleanse him, we must baptize him. Cleanse his soul and whatnot,” I muse with a smirk, my heart racing in anticipation. Understanding flickers in KJ’s eyes, and Sam shakes from head to toe, whimpering like a sad child.

  “Your time’s up, James,” my brother goads, helping me lift him.

  Together, we cleanse Sam’s soul, and my brother and I grow even closer in that moment.

  Chapter Eleven

  Atlas

  By the time we’ve gotten rid of Sam’s body and notify everyone necessary of the measures we took, our reasoning, and written it in the directory, we head home. When we come into my bedroom, the exhausted whimpers from my closet has Rusty coming to mind. Holy fuck. It’s technically our birthday today. It’s three in the morning. I turn to KJ, and he’s already watching me with lust. Something built between us when we killed Sam together. It was intense, ritualistic, almost necessary.

  The raw hunger burning inside me builds with each breath, and I know he wants this to end now too. Our final bet. But I won’t force him to kill Rusty; I’ll do it myself. After all, it’s our birthday, and I didn’t get him a gift.

  He wanders to the closet, opening the door. Rusty’s tear-soaked eyes stare at us in horror. A smile, evil and cunning, traces my brother’s lips as he stares at the guy I’ve wanted to kill for a year. Dragging his tied-to-a-chair body out in the open, he gives me a haunting look.

  “What?” I ask, interest getting the better of me. He turns to Rusty, biting his lip in such a childlike way, like he just got a new video game and is about to test it out.

  “Now Rusty here gets to watch as I fuck my brother. You’ll probably even get hard. Such a freak,” KJ hisses, looking at him before his eyes meet mine.

  “Okay,” I whisper, liking the idea of him filling me, completing me. My balls throb with need, my cock already full mast at the idea.

  “What about them?” he questions, meaning our parents, who for once are finally home.

  “Let them hear. Don’t give a fuck. It’s our birthday after all,” I say on a shrug.

  Kenji goes to my drawer, where my knife has sat since we made the bet. He takes it out, twirling the engraved piece like it’s his favorite toy. He flicks the switch, the blade assisted as it jumps from the chamber. He eyes it with pleasure, then walks back to Rusty. Taking the blade to the bare skin of Rusty, he slices open his chest as soon as the tape covers his mouth, and my dick gets harder—if that’s possible—at the sight of the blade in my brother’s hand, making the poor bastard bleed. He keeps striking him with an unabated anger that has me near falling apart. Being this horny over blood and death is sick, but I can’t seem to care.

  After several minutes of slices, Rusty seems to knock out from the loss of blood, and fuck, he’s bloody. His entire chest oozes crimson, decorating his chest like one of Tris’s canvases. My brother saunters to me, determination in his lavender gaze. His chest is covered in splatters of red, his palms entirely covered in blood. I smile at the sight, loving the color all over him. He grips my face and takes my mouth, kissing, biting, fucking me with his tongue.

  It’s so goddamn sexy that groans escape us both.

  “On the fucking bed.”

  “Hate this thing,” I complain, not lying at all. He eyes me with understanding.

  “Let’s make better memories, Salvatore.” With my nickname on his lips, I’m obeying. We swiftly shed our clothes, panting the entire time. We’re both naked now as he crawls over me, forcing his way between my thighs as our lips battle each other for ownership.

  He’s mine.

  I’m his.

  We’re twisted, but fuck, we’re together.

  We grind together, our cocks gliding with the spilled blood. “So hot,” he grunts as we fuck each other without hands. He’s right—we’re blistering, a fucking inferno of wrong. We hear Rusty cry behind his tape, not realizing he was back already. I smile against Kenji. He pulls back to see Rusty.

  “Ready, fucker?” I bark, making sure mine and KJ’s cocks are aligned. Rusty shakes his head, but again, his stupid dick is still hard as a rod. He’s broken like us too. Such a shame this is his end. Kenji reaches for the lube in my drawer and starts licking my body to relax me. He licks my balls, sucking them in his mouth. His hands paint my body in red as we fuck around. His one hand grips my sac, and then he stops to lube his fingers with the other. We both let out a shaky breath as he rims my asshole with his tongue.

  “Had to know how it felt after you did it to me.”

  “So fucking good,” I grunt, loving how he tastes every inch of me. He fingers my hole, teasing, and when he enters me, I moan loudly.

  “Yes. Just like that,” I guide him as he watches me for pleasure. He’s such a good little student. Learning and using those lessons on me.

  He thrusts into me, hitting my prostate. I’m literally ramrod hard, leaking and desperate for more. “More,” I demand, and he puts another finger in me. He fucks me with two digits, digging in and out and repeating as I curl up. To me, Rusty isn’t in the room. Even with his grunts and shit, I’m only paying attention to my brother as he takes me.

  “Your cock,” I command.

  He gets on his knees, his blood-covered body making me salivate. Lubing up his shaft, he rubs, and I do the same to mine. He aligns himself with my entrance, tracing my hole before plunging in. It’s such a beautiful pain, making me grind out and hiss all at once. Our shared breaths are exhausted, heavy, and erratic as he seats himself in me. We stare at each other. Him in pleasure, and me, I hope, in awe.

  Unlike me the other night, he doesn’t hold back. He fucks into me like it’s his last orgasm. We chase both of ours without words, holding back for too many days, and he fists me when I’m jerky from stimula
tion.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I praise him for his perfect motions

  “Cone for me,” he begs. “Shoot your load all over us, baby. Coat me.” With his sex-fueled words, I do. I fucking shoot my load as he rams into me reverently. When he’s done pumping, he leans down and licks my stomach and chest of all cum.

  “Still my favorite flavor,” he mutters. I’m still riding my high as he leaves my body. His hot orgasm leaks from me, and I thought seeing his ass full of me was the best sight, but feeling it myself makes me wonder which is my new favorite.

  After he’s rising to get a rag, we notice a little groan. We peer at the sick fuck we’d already forgotten about, seeing his limp dick spent. He fucking jizzed over us being together. I bet it was hot, but he’s not allowed to get off on me and my brother.

  Almost as if noticing himself and hating it, Kenji grabs the stiletto he abandoned, going straight to Rusty, quickly slicing his throat. My breath catches as the splatter marks my closet and walls, and it makes my used dick rise to attention. Mesmerized by the red coating my brother and draining from the guy, I watch as he bleeds out.

  “Fuck,” I groan happily, content with how this ended.

  “You’re hard again,” Kenji mentions, pointing at my not-so-spent erection.

  “It’s hot seeing you kill, baby. Makes me want to take your pretty ass after I’ve bathed in that loser’s death.”

  “Actions, brother. Prove it. Fuck me.”

  And we do, using his blood as our own painting, fucking until our bodies are exhausted, bloody, and in need of a good wash.

  “Happy Birthday, baby,” I murmur to KJ, kissing him full on the lips. He kisses me back, grinding on my leg softly.

  “Happy Birthday, Atlas. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Rischio.”

  Epilogue

  Atlas

  You’d think we’d have been killed by our parents, the Grim, or maybe the Society for abandoning our lives. You’d be wrong. Mom found us the day of our birthday, covered in blood, naked, in each other’s arms, and she cried.

  Not sad tears exactly. More of acceptance. After we shower together and get dressed, she sets us down for a discussion.

  “You guys have to leave here. You’ve not only broken laws in the Grim and Society…” Mom tries explaining over her tears. “You’re brothers. And while your father and I understand, we can’t let them take you.”

  She cries as Dad comforts her.

  They took our relationship better than I expected, and it makes me forgive them for all their distance. Dad hands us passports and a shit ton of money.

  “I’ve worked my entire life, making sure I’d be able to help you both escape if need be, wanting nothing more than your safety and happiness,” he explains with sadness. “Atlas, I remember you mentioning Vegas and that dispensary you wanted to start. This is enough money and new identities to save you both. Being a Reaper has a benefit, I guess.” He chuckles at that, but even with the wrinkles around his eyes, I can tell it’s forced. I look at my twin, my lover, my everything, and realize he never mentioned this. He nods.

  “This should get you guys a new house, a new life, and definitely keep you in business for at least five years,” Mom adds, sniffling around the words.

  We smile at each other and then at them, kissing Mom goodbye and then hugging Dad goodbye. We pack our shit and leave. They make us promise we will keep in touch, and we buy burner phones to make that happen.

  It’s been two years now.

  Our business is booming.

  We’re married, carrying on our love life, working at Loveless on the weekends. Our dispensary is massive—it keeps the money flowing and us high as fuck whenever we want. It’s everything we’ve wanted and more. We’re together, together.

  We’ve found tons of couples with similar stories. Texas and Devin, the owners of Loveless. And two brothers, much like Kenji and me. Harley and Aero. We’re like one big fucked-up gay family. We spend so much time together and share stories. It’s everything I’ve missed before leaving Silvercrest. But I’ll never truly escape the duties of being a Grim. One day, the call might come where we have to leave. Until then, KJ and I live our lives happily.

  It’s beautiful.

  “You look like a goddamn snack,” my brother mutters, dragging his thumb across his lips, staring at me with hunger. We’re at home, on lawn chairs in our backyard. Aero and Harley, Devin and Tex, and Credence—mine and KJ’s cousin—and Wren—our uncle—are all inside, drinking smoking a bowl, all while we just finished cooling off in the pool. None of them are shy about voyeurism, so the words spill out of my mouth before thinking better of it.

  “Then eat me.”

  He sidles up to me, kneeling while untying my board shorts. In no time, he’s taking me into his throat, sucking me harshly, not even gagging. Since we’ve been together, his cock sucking has become unchallenged. No one could ever come close, make me feel this way, or be special like he is with me.

  His hand glides up my abs, brushing my nipples before tugging the metal barbells. He groans around my cock, and I moan in response. As I’m fucking his face, he’s taunting my body with his hands. I gently push him off, needing to be inside him.

  “I want to fuck you,” I groan, watching as he momentarily pouts with his swollen lips. They’re rosy and wet, sexed up like his tousled hair. I’m addicted to him, so fucking much it should scare me.

  “Then fuck me,” he taunts, rising off the chair. When I put my dick away, knowing he’s wanting to lead me inside, we notice our audience. They’re smirking, all of them. Credence and Wren are still inside, but the other couples aren’t denying the show.

  “Looks like your husband wants you to fuck him, Atlas,” Aero teases, taking a swig of whatever he’s drinking. Harley chuckles under his breath. Dev and Tex are holding back their laughter, barely, but all of them look ready to fuck their partners and we can’t exactly blame them. What we do together is hot and illegal. It’s dark and depraved, and like now, when I’m craving the taste of my brother and his blood, it’s about to be fucking messy.

  “I know that look,” Harley mutters, eyeing me before staring longingly at Aero. “Be careful or you’ll scar.”

  It’s not news he and his beau and me and my brother have blood fetishes, once we got high and discussed it. I smile at my brother, giving him my attention. “You must not know my husband, guys,” I mock, smirking at them all. “He likes to bleed for me, and he definitely likes when we both leave scars.”

  “Fuck, yeah, I do,” KJ confirms.

  “Then by all means,” Devin jokes, waving to the entrance to our house.

  “Be as loud as you want!” Tex hollers after us as we leave.

  “Please, don’t,” both Credence and Wren say in unison as we’re laughing. It seems like Grims are tainted goods, but they’re happy like us. Which makes us happy.

  “You know where the door is,” I respond, gesturing to the door. “Not going to fuck quiet for the sake of your ears.”

  “He couldn’t shut me up if he tried,” KJ muses from beside me. I kiss him full on the lips, and he groans.

  “That’s our cue,” Credence mutters, heading to the pool, dragging our uncle with him.

  And we head to our room, shutting the door. What those fuckers don’t know is it’s pretty soundproof—we wanted to be able to fuck without people bothering us. Kenji rushes to our toy drawer, the one with all the things he likes to play with, but most of all, our favorite knife.

  He pulls out the stiletto he bought me and smiles as he flicks the blade out.

  “One for each moan in the presence of others,” I growl, grabbing the knife from his nimble fingers. He smirks.

  “Triple it,” he goads, a glutton for the sting.

  “Remove your clothes, baby,” I command, and he swiftly removes his trunks, his cock smacking his chest. He’s mine. All mine. Forever. I stalk toward him as he sprawls across the bed. Knowing he’ll want to touch me, and realizing I wo
n’t last if he does, I grab his limbs, handcuffing him to the headboard. “So sexy when you’re defenseless,” I groan out, watching him lick his lips suggestively.

  “You’re doing a lot more talking than cutting, brother. Maybe I’m the one who should be marking you.”

  I tsk at him, waving the knife. “You’re the one who moaned in front of everyone.”

  “You seemed to moan while your cock was down my throat,” he argues, his voice light and trying to prove a point. I chuckle, knowing he’s right.

  “Bet you’ll pass out after I’m done cutting and fucking you,” I challenge. His eyes light up, knowing we haven’t had a bet since Rusty.

  “I’ll raise you, husband,” he taunts. “You’ll fuck me and make me bleed, and when you’re done, I’ll be so worked up, even after being spent, that I’ll do the same fucking thing.”

  “Wager?” I raise an eyebrow at him, wanting to know the stakes. Unlike my brother, I always weigh options.

  “If I win, you bottom for the next week.”

  “But, brother,” I say teasingly, “you’re the one that’ll beg me to fuck you again. We both know my little bottom loves his ass pounded.”

  He scowls a little. “You’re right, but I love fucking you when all you want is to fuck me,” he counters.

  “If I win though, I’ll be tying you up for a full day, edging you until you beg, and fucking every hole of yours until I’m exhausted.” His expression darkens with desire. That’s my Kenjington. He’s always a slut for pain and passion. The perfect mixture only we can give each other.

  “Bet,” he says.

  “Bet,” I confirm, before stalking over to him, having my way with him until his blood is everywhere and his orgasm is smeared along with it. When I’m done fucking my seed into him, he loses our bet, passing out.

  And I vow to never stop loving him, never stop pushing him to be the best version of himself, and never stop making bets that we both enjoy.

  The End