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your sweet symmetry, all shattered

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It doesn’t take long at all before one of them cracks, although if anybody asked them about it neither of them would actually confirm nor deny just who it actually was. The name doesn’t matter, not when they’re one and the same. (Or perhaps, they would like to believe that they still can be the one and the same, but they both know that they’re not fooling anybody, let alone themselves.)

What really matters is on how everything’s just been building up ever since Jacob punched and dug himself right up from his own grave and discovered that an angel had went to Hell and saved him. That Jimmy’s working with Meg of all people and didn’t even bother to tell him about it. That there will always be people who they can’t save and in a way their deaths will haunt them forever. That no matter how Jacob tries their parents will still end up dead and everything will simply repeat itself because the deal with Azazel was still made one way or another. That Castiel told him that he had to stop his brother or they will instead.

Jacob doesn’t want to think about when or where or how the lying started, doesn’t want to start guessing on what had been real and what had been false and if Jimmy is still the brother he used to be. But damnit, those are the only things that are going through his mind like a cassette on repeat and even though he can understand all Jacob feels is anger. Anger and frustration and how his brother’s somehow gone so far off the chart when it’s Jimmy’s who’s always believed in the angels, Jimmy who has faith, Jimmy who prayed while Jacob had never even gave a lick of concern. When had it all changed so much, he wants to wonder but he cannot because Jimmy’s got him pinned down on the bed now and pretty much tearing his clothes off.

There’s nothing gentle about Jimmy’s actions and there’s certainly no affection in the way he bites down at the column of Jacob’s throat. Their clothes are only halfway off, both of them too caught up in the moment to care about propriety and standards when there’s only anger and rage burning through them both which turns into something else entirely.

Jacob tries to move but he can’t because Jimmy’s already got his wrists pinned up about him and his grip is tight, far tighter than any other times that Jacob can remember. He can feel his fingers starting to go numb from the force of the grip and for a moment a memory flashes by before his mind, a memory that’s too real and too vivid and Jacob can’t help but struggle because Hell isn’t just a place you go to, Hell is something that ends up sticking with you no matter what.

Jimmy doesn’t see it though—of course he doesn’t, how could he know?—and only bites harder, almost drawing blood before he hisses against the raw skin. “Four months, Jake,” is what he says, “Four fucking months.”

“I’m sorry it couldn’t be longer,” Jacob quips back without a thought, the remark coming out all too naturally because his mind is on auto-pilot now, attempting to keep his head back straight and shoving away the memories of Hell.

The comeback only makes Jimmy growl and he moves his hips, shoving in harder into Jacob and there’s nothing gentle about this at all. It’s so different from the first time they did this, when it had been nothing but desperation and taking and giving because back then all they had was each other (and even that would end soon). But now things are different, far too different within the span of four months (but long enough for forty years) and Jacob just can’t stop thinking even as Jimmy moves up and claims his lips in a kiss that isn’t about comfort or reassurance but demands and anger.

Jacob responds to that with questions and frustrations, pressing back just as equally hard against Jimmy’s lips as he arches up and ruts himself against his brother’s stomach even as Jimmy thrusts into him harder and faster that Jacob’s certain he’s going to hurt like shit tomorrow when he gets out of bed. But right now he doesn’t care because its Jimmy and it’s been forty fucking years for him, so Jacob only presses harder against his brother, claiming more and wanting more and demanding for more and bites down on Jimmy’s bottom lip to make his point.

He feels Jimmy stiffening up right there and then, a broken cry finally falling from his brother’s lips as he empties himself into Jacob. Jimmy’s hand in his hair clenches in reflex and he feels the tug of his hair being pulled none too gently and that’s the trigger that sets him off, his mind finally finally whitening out and that’s the peace he so desperately needs, the peace of an empty mind and for his brain to just stop thinking.

Eventually he knows that it won’t be enough, but for now this is the only thing that he has and Jacob will take what he can get (because he’s losing everything).