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Flashes of red pulsated under his fingertips as the rich liquid slowly seeped out of the frame, long curls the color of moonshine matted with rust. In his arms, the boy grew limp, complexion turning an ashy grey shade, all life long drained from his body. The thin lips, usually curled in an arrogant sneer, now tinged an unhealthy purple, making Aegon feel sick to his stomach.
How often he had wished to bury his fist that bashful grin his brother wore so well. Maybe knock out a few teeth to see the little pieces of white enamel glimmering in the puddle of crimson Aemond spat to the floor.
Wished to know he contributed to his brother’s wretched state, just as unlovable as him. Maybe then Aemond would finally understand; understand why it is that Aegon willingly put himself in a state of delirium each night, sniffing, shooting, swallowing anything he could get his grubby hands on.
Just last week, Aemond had shown his elder brother a horror movie wherein the final shot, the female antagonist drops liquid LSD into her eyes. Toes curled and squirming like a small child forced to eat broccoli, Aemond had scrunched up his face into a grimace, disgust deepening the creases around his scar. “Gross, that must burn like hell. How can people do that shit?”
Victim to the social norm, Aegon had mimicked his brother, snorting a short, “People really don’t fucking appreciate their eyes, huh?” But within him, a new flame was lit a spark. A new vice born, right there on his brothers chaise longue.
Cocaine, heroin, pills— he had done them all. Whether they were his old man’s pain meds, softening the rooms as they wrapped him into a fuzzy blanket, or his little brother’s ADHD pills that amplified the music he was listening to and kept him up for nights on end; after a few trips, they had all lost their appeal.
Never quite enough to make it worth the lecture from mom, the threats of getting disowned, the threats of her taking him off the family insurance.
Because at the end of the day, these drugs didn’t change his status as her eldest, the only one who looked like her, the one destined to disappoint her the moment he left her womb with a mop of auburn and gleaming eyes of nougat.
Oh, how he wanted to gouge them out, wander the streets blind, just to avoid that pained expression on his mother’s face, one that is reserved solely for her biggest disappointment in life, the one that reminded her of everything she had sacrificed for him.
Her youth.
Her beauty.
Her social life.
And for what? A drug addict that looked so much like her, they could pass as twins.
Sure, the visuals of the movie creeped Aegon out, the way people tore at each other like feral animals, flawing at the others’ flesh, baring their teeth as pupils grew in size.
But one thing was for certain— none of them felt attached to reality.
It hadn’t taken long to find a guy to hook him up with the stuff, even offering to let him do it in his own apartment. Musty couch full of cigarette burns, a yellow baby blanket covered in spit up, stuffed animals slowly rotting away, their happy expression fading just as age took away the innocence of their owner.
They always made Aegon cry, those memorabilia from easier times, tinged in a sepia hue, even when that nostalgia bore no resemblance to the reality of his own childhood. Punitive hands and sour words instead of morning cartoons and sugary cereals; locked in his room forced to cry himself to sleep on his birthday instead of big celebrations with unnaturally yellow Victoria sponge cake.
He had taken a seat next to a toy elephant, the steel gray fuzz of fur sticky, one of the black glass marble eyes missing. It reminded him of his little brother, in the same sick and twisted way the rotten meat behind the supermarket dumpster reminded him of his own father.
There had been a couple of them, looking like they had crawled out of the grave, sad droopy eyes, the kind you usually only see in the kind of hardcore porn that barely made Aegon’s dick twitch.
Simply seeing a girl get ruined, choking on a cock as another claims one of her other holes isn’t enough anymore.
No hit with a paddle hard enough, no number of cocks inside of a tight orifice satiating the burn inside of him. If anything, it makes him feel number, so disgusted with himself he wants to empty his guts.
He had never thought of himself as a junkie, but right then and there, surrounded by crushed childhood hopes and dreams, creatures that were once somebody’s pride and joy, it dawned on him how well he fit in.
It didn’t matter to them that Aegon was doing it to fight his own demons; they all were, in their own way. If anything, it had made him all the more pathetic, a stupid little crybaby, his heart broken just because he wasn’t born with daddy’s white hair.
Aemond, despite never touching a drug in his life aside from the occasional cigarette, had been right; the drops did burn like hell.
Somewhere between the drop hitting the tender milky tissue of his sclera and the part where his hands were caked in blood, he had detached from his being, living his own nightmare. It wasn’t hatred he felt for his little brother, but hate was an easier emotion to articulate than envy.
Because how can he look at himself in the mirror, knowing he was jealous of a one-eyed kid? Did he ever wish to see him dead? Was he truly capable of slaying the hand that pulled him out of each overdose, holding his hand during the ride to the hospital, allowing him to vomit in his lap so the Uber wouldn’t charge them a cleaning fee?
Aegon’s heart felt like it has just been punctured, tiny and cruel needles slowly injecting it with poison. With each rapid thump, the toxin spread further through his body, gradually burning through his veins, breaking down his tissue, leaving marks of white and gray deep inside of him.
Helplessly, he looked down on his younger brother, pale and lifeless, lead occupying Aegon’s lungs with each breath. He couldn’t stay here. Not with his little brother’s corpse draped over his legs, cradling a being that had so evidently already left their realm.
Every fiber in him screamed as he tore himself away from the couch, stumbling through the dingy hallway and low-lit staircase. A neon green emergency light blinked somewhere up on the upper floors, illuminating Aegon’s path for a short second.
Outside, in the riotous streets of the city, the frosty air bit his face. Maybe was to blame on the early months of spring where the thick sludge of the winter depravity had not been washed away yet, or maybe it was the effect of the drug.
It felt like his feet were dragging through sticky mud, too slow to keep up with the rapid pace of his mind, images of his brother’s corpse flashing in front of his eyes.
Despite the forbidden hours of the night, the alleyways were filled with grimy creatures, reaching their arms for him, trying to grab him by the scuff of his shirt. Screams filled the city, whether they were his own or those of the wretched shadows who thirsted for his flesh, he didn’t know.
His fists came down heavy on the dark cherry wood of the door, hammering in unison with the pounding inside his heart, fast and relentless.
“Aemond!” His voice echoed down the hallway, so quiet and unlike the frantic bustle of nocturnal animals outside the walls of the apartment building. “Open the fucking door, Aemond!”
There was no shift behind the door that separated Aegon’s filth from the pristine and orderly life his little brother led, always the better son, always the better man.
“Aemond, open the fucking door! Please!” Aegon’s voice was weak, dripping in despair as he brought his fist down on the wood. A tear slowly streaked down his face, and despite wiping it away with a bloody hand, he knew it would only be a matter of time until his entire face would be wet, caked in salty tears and dried blood.
“I am sorry, Aemond! I didn’t mean to fucking kill you!” He wept, leaning his forehead against the door as the anguish washed over him, the sound of locks clicking all around him. They didn’t want people like him here, afraid they would fall victim to him just like his brother did.
“I never wanted to kill anyone except myself!” Tear after tear rolled down his flushed cheeks, so lost in his sorrows, the world around him seemed to have come to a halt.
“Please, please, please open the door! Please, Aemond! Show me that you are real, and this was nothing but a bad dream, Aemond!”
So deep in trance, swallowed by the routine, the glistening rivers of tears clouding his vision that he hardly noticed his brother’s face in front of him, the door long opened, Aemond’s well-manicured fingers wrapped around his wrists.
“Please forgive me, Aemond,” he sobbed yet again, as his younger brother’s arms pulled him into for a hug, drawing him close.
The warmth felt undeserved, a being unworthy of such a kind gesture after Aegon had just taken his brother’s life. Helplessly, Aegon buried his head in the chest of the man that looked and smelled like the little boy he used to share a room with, but who so obviously wasn’t.
“Gods, what have you done to yourself?” The tall masculine figure rested his pronounced chin on the apex of Aegon’s head, whispering the phrase ever so faintly into the greasy locks of chestnut. They were just words and yet, they felt like a kiss, easily licking up the venom that dripped from Aegon’s wounds.
As if zapped by an electric current, Aegon broke away from his brother’s touch, sobs vibrating through his body as his hand fisted his own hair, gripping it in an effort to reconnect with reality.
“Stop, stop, stop, you aren’t real! I saw you die right before my eyes!” His words were broken by the wheezes, almost choking on his pain.
“Aegon, it’s okay, I am real. It was all just a bad dream,” Aemond’s doppelgänger stated with a calm voice, his hand reaching out to stroke Aegon’s cheek.
“No, no, you aren’t. You were dead. There was blood…so much fucking blood,” Aegon pleaded exasperated, barely able to breathe.
Again, he was pulled into the tall man’s sweatshirt, embraced like he had always wished his mother to coddle him. Gentle palms traced patterns of flowers between his shoulder blades, mellowing the ravenous current sloshing through his body. “I am here Aegon, I promise I am here.”
With a paternal guiding hand, the man brought Aegon inside of his apartment, closing the door behind him. “Let’s get you to bed. Sleep all of this off.”
Aegon thrashed, slapping his hands against the man. He had seen this in the movies Aemond loved so much—shady men pretending they were somebody their victims knew to get them in their bed, committing those crimes that haunt the nightmares of girl all across the globe.
“Don’t touch me! Aemond would never do this,” he protested, a hand landing on the cheek of the man, leaving the same print his mother’s hand had so often left on his.
The pretender’s face grew stern, patience running low. “It’s me, okay! Stop fussing already!”
“Get off me you creep! I will fucking—” Aegon’s words got suffocated by the feel of the man’s lips against his, eagerly sucking every word that was building at the back of his throat from his tongue.
“Is that enough to convince you that I am real?” A sheepish grin grew on the face of the other, corners tugging upwards the same way Aemond’s did right after Aegon emptied his balls deep down his throat. Aemond had always looked prettiest when he was down on his knees, lazily letting little droplets of cum dribble down his chin. “Or do I need to—”
With one hasty motion, Aegon brought them down on the bed, hungrily licking at Aemond’s puffy lips. In a haze, their tongues danced, long sticky strings of saliva connecting the two of them even when they were separated. Aemond’s taste of fresh mint and tangy mouthwash mixed with his older brother’s stale breath, reeking of depravity and shame.
Despite his little brother’s taller statue, Aegon easily overpowered him, turning Aemond on his stomach and burying his slender frame under his weight. Aemond had never put up much of a fight, for show maybe, but never actually dedicating any effort into pushing Aegon off.
The first time it happened, Aegon thought it had only been a dream, something his impaired mind had created to protect his well-being from the actual events that may have transpired. It had been right after his first overdose, and according to Aemond, it had also been his little brother’s first time of ever fucking anyone.
It was funny, really, the way first times seemed to coincide, the same way infectious diseases did.
Naturally, he hooked his thumb in the stretchy elastic of his brother’s boxers, pulling them down just below the curve of his ass, Aemond’s low hiss awakening the desire in Aegon that nothing else could ever evoke.
“Shush, if you were really my brother, you would know that I don’t like when he makes noises.” With one hand he pushed Aemond’s face into the depth of the cushy pillow, all utterances losing their edge as the heavy downs swallowed them.
Aemond didn’t resist, pliable like golden molasses under Aegon harsh hand. He had always been the sweeter one of the two.
Spitting down a tacky swat of saliva onto Aemond’s tight entrance, he plunged into him, facing no resistance at all. It may have been Aegon’s plan to do a welfare check on his younger brother, but Aemond was the one who had prepared to let him in. Aegon could always feel the difference when his brother had worn a plug throughout the day, stretching him to accommodate Aegon’s length effortlessly.
Harsh as always, he fucked into Aemond, each of his strokes carrying the gravity of their upbringing, year upon years full of distaste, rejection, ostracization. Always feeling like a freak of nature for the cards his mother’s womb has dealt him, punishing him from his first day on.
His hand tangled in Aemond’s long mane of ivory, the same one he had always desired for himself, gripping it with so much force, Aemond whined into the pillow. A few isolated strands came undone from his younger brother’s flushed scalp, long threads of alabaster falling to the bedsheets.
They were both disfigured and rotten inside, yet his brother’s appearance was one that aroused empathy in his mother, smothered in kisses and trips to the local aquarium to brighten his mood. Aegon on the other hand was never enough, resembling her so much, she had asked him to eat his dinner in a different room, to ashamed to look at him after got suspended from school for selling dad’s oxys to middle schoolers.
Each memory that flooded his mind made his thrusts gain in vigor, relentless and demanding. Blinded by the emotions that billowed up in him like cheap pancake mix, he fucked into Aemond, drowning out his anger in the depths of his brother’s buttocks. Again and again, his pelvis slapped against Aemond’s ass, careless whether his younger brother got any enjoyment from it.
He had gotten enough love in his life, nothing but a big sponge soaking up all the pity the people around him had to offer. The least he could do was return the favor and take Aegon’s cock, mellow the screaming inside of him, extinguishing that scalding flame that inhabited the hollow space behind Aegon’s sternum.
“Fuck, you have gotten tighter Aemond,” he pressed out between his teeth, feeling the walls of his brother’s passage constrict around him, waves of pleasure slowly gaining in intensity. “I don’t think I can last much longer.”
Under him, Aemond readjusted himself, resting is cheek on the pillow. “It’s okay, Aegon. Give me all of your pain, I can take it.”
His thrusts grew erratic, void of any rhythm, the air around him dense and head unable to keep a straight thought. All that mattered was fucking into Aemond, getting rid of those awful feelings inside of him, finally shutting up those voices in his head that constantly told him that he would never be lovable like his younger brother, never somebody’s first choice.
Nobody’s— except for Aemond’s.
In one last brutal stroke, Aegon submerged himself in his brother’s ass. Dizzy, he felt his cock throb as he emptied his balls deep inside of Aemond, still unmoving and patiently waiting out his brother’s peak. As the last ripples of Aegon’s orgasm rushed through him, the elder’s body collapsed onto his brother’s. Everything came crashing down on them as Aegon’s face was swallowed by Aemond’s curtain of silver, soft and cushy, smelling faintly like sage and the ocean.
Then and there, all of the pain he had swallowed down for so long, had tried to muffle with the influence of drugs, seeped into Aemond’s seemingly boundless curls. Droplet after droplet of heavy tears trickled down into the silver hair, the ones he had always envied so much, drinking up all his sorrows.
Pressed against each other, their sweat intermingling, Aegon wept into his brother like a small child.
He may have believed he was dead, but the reality of them being alive was so much worse, just two messed up creatures that fit together so effortlessly, the blind comforting the numb while the city outside roared, the same one that would never have a space for them.