Work Text:
De Profundis Borealis
“An inexperienced Papa needs experienced Ghouls.” Copia was delighted to spit Psalterian’s words back right into his face.
Mr. Psalterian didn’t look amused by it.
“You don’t want to keep your Ghouls?” He glanced at Swiss standing two steps behind Copia’s chair.
They were in his new office, lavishly furnished with antics, bright with the sun coming from tall windows behind him. Copia got the best view at the Ministry’s gardens, now in full bloom of spring. He only wished he could open the window to smell the sweet scent of flowers but alas, it would be foolish. Windows aren’t bulletproof when they are opened.
“Of course I would love to keep them,” Copia said. “And as much as I hate the new guy, I don’t want the Ghost project to fail. We can’t put all newbies on the stage, that would be a disaster.”
He saw how Psalterian clenched his jaw. It was reasonable enough and he couldn’t argue with Frater about it without revealing his true motives. It had to piss him off immensely.
But angry Psalterian could be also dangerous. Swiss stepped closer to Copia and put a hand on his shoulder, an undeniably protective gesture.
“One more thing, as we are speaking of the Ghost project” Frater said, riding on the high of his small victory. “Ghost was supposed to be a recruitment tool, si? I would like to check the Book of Beast to see if the admission rate really got higher since it had started. Please, deliver the Book to me as soon as you can.”
“O, the rates are higher, I can tell you that right now” Psalterian said.
“I need numbers to justify the budget increase for the band.”
“Are you planning to increase the band's expenses?” He seemed surprised by that.
“It’s time to grow, won’t you agree? Besides, Lucifer only knows how much visual distraction the congregation will need if the ‘inexperienced Papa’ turns out to be a total disaster.”
“Then I will prepare copies of the record from the past twenty years and send it to you. Would that be sufficient?”
It absolutely would not, Copia wanted to scream. He needed the Book, not the notes on it. But he didn't prepare an answer for this.
“Don’t bother with copying it, it would take ages, just send me the Book” he tries.
Psalterian smiled.
“It won’t be a problem at all, Frater. I must say I’m happy how seriously you are taking your new duties. Truly inspiration to us all.”
Copia wanted to stab him with a pen in the eye. Or both eyes. He had many pens.
“Thank you, Mr. Psalterian. I learned from the best.”
When he left the room Copia was grateful for Swiss’ strong hand on his arm. Without it he could just hit his head on the desktop with full force. Multiple times.
“Well, shit” he said instead. “What now?”
Swiss bared his teeth. They were longer and sharper than human, just two rows of fangs and the utter darkness behind them.
“No, you cannot eat him. Not now, anyway.” Copia thought for a moment. He couldn’t ask Cumulus to steal the Book now, after he asked for it. It would be suspicious. Which means he was left with the more complicated way of doing things. Another trip to the Library then.
***
“What exactly do you need?” Sister Agatha asked.
They were standing in the black magic section, one of the least visited in the Library. Contrary to popular beliefs, not every Satanist in the Ministry liked to play with the dark forces.
“List of every book ever borrowed by Sister Imperator since her arrival in the Ministry” Copia said. “And she had quite the collection herself, right? What happened to it after her death? Was it donated to the Library?”
“We received her books, yes. Some of her writing too. Are you interested in those as well? Or rather, Ghouls are?” There were mischievous sparks in her eyes.
Better she had fun with it, Copia decided.
“That would be a lot of reading material, wouldn't it?” He sighted.
“That’s a correct statement, yes. I’m guessing you… or Ghouls… don’t have that much free time at hand, right?”
“Free time? What is that outrageous concept?” He smiled.
“What are you exactly looking for, Frater?” She asked.
Time to show his carts and hope she still would want to play.
“Anything about children, sorella. And her grimoire if you can find it. I’m sure she had one.”
“What are you playing at, Copia? Do you want to follow in her footsteps now, as Frater?”
“I’m just looking for answers, sorella and I wish I could tell you more, but it’s not entirely my secret to share.”
She was thinking about it for the moment.
“I will prepare the list for you” she decided. “The old witch’s books are still in cataloging, frankly we don’t have enough people to take care of it, so I will have to do it myself. But it will take time.”
“You are Satan-sent, sorella” he took her hand and kissed it with reverence.
“Less sweet talking, more work Copia” she advised.
“Ah, so you find my words sweet, sorella” he laughed. She slapped him in the ear for that but the sparks were still in her eyes.
Satanists were complicated people by design, Copia decided. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
***
They quickly found an easy routine. They fuck, they read together, talked about all the new knowledge Perpetua was absorbing in frankly alarming pace, like a plant that was watered for the first time after months of drought. Copia wondered if his brother slept at all. Sometimes he was just so exhausted that he napped shortly in between their dark hours together, woke up just to find his twin by his side, still naked and reading The Dark Catechism, scribing his own notes upon Copia’s. And he genuinely loved how excited his twin was about his study. He felt comfortable in the role of instructor, a reminiscence of his work as the cardinal. Surprisingly, he also liked his duty of the older brother, guiding his twin, his pupil, through satanic theology. It let them experience, even for a glimpse, how their lives could have been, if they weren’t separated.
“We say ‘unholy’ because we approached Divinity of Lucifer through the negation” he was saying now, Perpetua listening to him with the intensity of someone desperate to understand. “The affirmation, the certainty, is dangerous because it leads to dogma. Lucifer is the God of the doubts, of everlasting questioning, They undermine the nature of dogma as it is. Lucifer must be approached obliquely, not directly. They transcend affirmation. So we say ‘unholy’ not to mock Christian terminology but because their terminology is a mockery in itself. We know we can’t say the unsayable so the only way through is the continuation of dismantling the language, accumulation of oxymorons so you know, you cannot trust the language in the first place.”
“Yeah, it says right there, in The Cloud in the Unknowing.” Perpetua looked at his notes. “It describes Divinity as the ‘radiant darkness’, the ‘essential nothingness’.”
“The light blinds you. Darkness evokes you to see, to seek, to understand what is beyond understanding.”
“Logically it makes no sense…”
“It’s not something to understand but to experience. It doesn’t have to be understood as long as you feel it.”
“Meister Eckhart wrote something like this…” Perpetua frowned, trying to remember.
“If I myself were not, God would not be either. That God is God, of this I am a cause. If I were not, God would not be God. There is, however, no need to understand it” Copia quoted. “He also wrote It is bestowed upon me that I and God are one.”
Perpetua looked at him with uncertainty.
“Have you read Christian mystics?”
“First of all, Eckhart was one of us. There is a good reason why he standed accused of heresy and brought up before the Inquisition. He would be burnt if he didn’t die before the verdict. Second, know thy enemy, brother. I’m guessing you weren’t encouraged to read heretics’ treaties?”
“Shocking, I know,” Perpetua smiled. “This is why every Ghost’s song has a double meaning, yes? To dismantle the language of worship… But why so many innuendos?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure Satan wants us to have some fun with it too,” Copia smirked. “And you must know that every mystic writing is inherently eroticized.”
“It’s very… interesting… how well-read you are” Perpetua admitted with a sly smile.
“Yeah?” Copia moved, kneeling on the bed before his twin. He took his chin in hand and lifted it, so Perpetua was forced to look at him, blushing slightly, trying to avoid his gaze as his cock started to erect again.
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth—
for your love is more delightful than wine.
Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes;
your name is like perfume poured out.
Dark am I, yet lovely,
daughters of Jerusalem,
dark like the tents of Kedar,
like the tent curtains of Solomon.
Do not stare at me because I am dark,
because I am darkened by the sun.
He said in a low voice, admiring the blush on his brother’s cheeks which darkened with every word, spreading on his neck and chest.
“You will not tell me now that Song of Songs is a satanic rite too” Perpetua said, breathing shallowly.
Copia laughed at that.
“Now, but it’s a lovely piece of poetry, don’t you think?” His brother’s face was hot from the blush, so much blood within his body, rushing in the answer to Copia’s words. “And every poetry brings us a bit closer to Divinity. Good poetry, that is.”
“Like your songs…” Perpetua sighted. “I love the verses you sing.” He closed his eyes and quoted too:
How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride!
How much more pleasing is your love than wine,
and the fragrance of your perfume
more than any spice!
He continued, eyes still closed, seeing red under the eyelids.
“It’s more than poetry, it’s prophecy. My brother, my bride… It could be about us for as Papa I’m one with Lucifer and you are Their church, and isn’t the Church a bride of Satan?”
It was the prophet speaking now, Copia realized. Reverence raised within him alongside desire.
Papa opened his eyes, the Infernal Eye flared with the visions.
“You are the Lucifer’s Light and I’m the shadow you cast” he said. “Together we are one, we are whole. Let us be one in the flesh as we are in the soul.”
Full body shudders come through Frater.
“I want to be your bride, Papa. I want you to take me” he confessed, his blood boiling in veins. “Would you?”
The sins of pride and indulgence raised within him as this snapped Perpetua back to reality.
“Yesss” he hissed, snake-like. He kissed Copia’s palm, tip of the tongue sliding along the faded scare from the ritualistic cut. “I wish you would bear stigmata here, an ever-open wound for me to sink teeth into every time I please…”
“You can bite into it” Copia said, quivering with every touch of the tongue on his skin. How his twin was able to get him so hard so fast, so easy every time. Just the slight touch, the right look, the softness of his skin or hair, the smell of his arousal was enough to make Copia hungry, so ready to go. And it was reciprocated. Perpetua was as obsessed with his body as he was with his twin. He loved Copia’s tights especially, constantly licking and baiting the soft skin on the inner tights, leaving lovely purple bruises there, one after another, resting his head on them like it was his favorite pillow every time they rested, sitting on his lap like it was Satan’s throne. He could spend the whole night just admiring muscles under the skin, tracking veins with his fingertips. Copia decided to get him a good view. He moved, braced himself on all four next to Perpetua, passing him the bottle of lube, tangled in the sheets.
“Will you prep me?” He asked. “Or should I do it myself?”
“No,” Perpetua moved at once, slicking his shaking fingers. “Let me, please.”
Copia closed his eyes in anticipation. How happy he was knowing it was the first time his twin would touch another like that, that he would be the first body for him to sink in, to claim, to fuck. First person to feel the strength of his thrust and enthusiasm. First to know his rhythm. First and only, he thought despite myself, possessive and desperate like never before.
He wanted to be the only mortal body Perpetua would know like that.
Perpetua knelt behind him, one had on his hips, steading him. Copia closed his eyes and forced himself to not think any more, just feel. Practice what you preach.
Lubed up fingers, so warm and gentle, were pressing firmly against his entrance. Frater moaned and dropped his arms, spread legs wider, arching his ass like an animal to be mounted, trying to catch the finger, to feel it sliding in.
Copia haven’t done it in a long time so the initial stretch burned a little, in the best way possible, an unmistakable sensation of being open for other, getting ready for being used that made pleasure curled up in his abdomen like a tight knot. He rocked his hips into Perpetua’s hand, trying to get his finger deeper and to stretch him wide. He was impatient, Papa was not. He went slowly, torturing him with it, methodically searching for the spot that would make him see stars, moving in and out, prolonging the not-enough urgency that grew in Frater’s loins. When he finally found what he was looking for, Copia cried out and involuntarily clenched around the finger. His twin gasped at that, probably imaging how that would feel on his cock.
“More” Copia growled.
“Yes, Frater” Papa gave in to demands. He added more lube and slid in two fingers at once. Copia cursed through clenched teeth as fingers were swirling and scissoring inside him, taunting him with the promise of what was to come. After a few minutes Perpetua tried to add a third finger but Copia stopped him.
“Enough” he said. “I want to feel you stretching me on your cock.”
He wanted it to hurt. He wanted to feel it the next day, when he would sit in his office.
Thanks to Satan, his brother didn’t argue. He pulled his fingers free, leaving the glistering, wet hole clenching around nothing. Copia thought about how he must look right now, remembering his brother's tight entrance, tempting beyond words. His cock was leaking and throbbing with every heartbeat.
He felt the hot head slipping in with ease, pushing in without mercy, slowly and surely. It punched out the air from his lungs, made him grab the sheets so he has something to hold onto. The litany of unholy names spilled from his lips, with the most damned of them all: Perpetua.
His twin was right, it was mouthful.
Perpetua squeezed both his hips as he bottomed out, his pelvis touching Copia’s ass cheeks. Frater felt full to the brim, his ass full of cock, his ears filled with his twin’s moans, his nose with the smell of sex, his heart so…
Copia shook his head.
“Move, for Satan's sake”. He tried to order his brother, but it sounded more like a plea.
Perpetua snapped his hips sharply and perfectly.
“Fuck, yeah…” Copia whimpered.
He was being fucked by his brother. If there was something better in universe than fucking him, it was just that. With this position Papa didn’t need to hold down and he was vicious because of it, lost in the pleasure of tight body heat. He was cursing upon him, calling him sinful and perfect, hands holding him firmly enough to leave bruises. Every time he slid out, Copia cried from the loss, every time he pushed in, he felt like he was opened anew. Made anew. Like his body finally found its purpose. Perpetua was filling him to the core.
Then hands moved, sliding on his sides, Perpetua pressed to his back, hands on his chest, lifting him up, grabbing his hair and turning his face so they could kiss. Their bodies moved as one, Perpetua pushing in from a different angle, rubbing his sweat spot with every move, cock’s head hooking on it every time. Copia was whimpering into his brother’s mouth. One hand was pinching his nipple, little throbs of pleasure-pain making him lose the rhythm, the other one stroking him, cruelly slow.
“Please…” Copia moaned. “Please…”
He laid his hand on Perpetua’s, urging it faster, so close, orgasm building within him in crushing waves. He moved his twin’s hand in just right way to be overwhelmed with pleasure as it hit him.
Perpetua stroked him through it until his entire body felt raw, like an open nerve. Copia whimpered and pushed the hand away. He fall on the bed, ass still up in the tight grip of his twin, as he laid there, in his own come, being fucked in forceful movement that felt like Perpetua was trying to get inside of him.
It was too much. It was not enough. Copia wanted to cut himself open and let him in.
A few more trusts, hips pressed into his flesh, and Perpetua came, spilling in him with a low groan. Copia closed his eyes and revelled in this feeling, imagining he could feel the warm liquid spreading in him.
It felt like an unholy blessing.
Perpetua fell on him, pressing him into the mattress. He was heavy, but not uncomfortable so. His soft cock slipped from Copia, lube and come gashing from him, running down his body. Fuck, he loved it. All of it.
“Fuck, I needed it” he said when Perpetua finally rolled over. “Thank you, Papa.”
His twin smirked, eyes closed, looking as fucked up as Copia felt.
“Anytime, Frater,” he replied.
Copia had to admit it – their working relationship was fantastic.
***
The popcorn was burnt.
Perpetua knew it was not a big deal. It was his first time making it, the instructions on the package were clear enough but he decided to keep it in the microwave a minute longer than it recommended just to be sure, and when he opened it, the stink of burnt oil was so atrocious it brought tears into his eyes.
They were moving slowly through Copia’s vast collection of horror movies. Perpetua loved it immensely, them curling together in bed, snacking and drinking wine, movie on the big screen before them and Copia over-explaining genres and history of scary movies. They had different favorites, Copia going for suspense and aesthetic, while Perpetua was more into direct monstrosity on the screen, splatter and eye-catching murders, but they usually were able to find some common ground.
Today they were going to watch A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge, which Copia assured him was ‘the gayest in the series’ and Perpetua craved some popcorn with it. And now he ruined it.
He stood over the small kitchen counter in Frater’s quarters, desperately trying to not work himself up emotionally over a burnt snack and failing miserably.
He was so useless and broken, so not equipped to deal with everyday life, he couldn’t even make a fucking popcorn by himself. He didn’t want to ask Ghouls to do every stupid small thing for him. He was over forty and hadn't even ever made the dentist’s appointment on his own. What was he supposed to teach the congregation as Papa? How to lose one’s life in the hands of an abusive religious organization?
Anger raised in him. He lost so many fucking years living for other’s expectation. Clearly it was too late for him to do anything right.
He wanted to put his hands into a steaming bag and watch his skin get burned.
He almost convinced himself to do it when Copia joined him in the kitchen counter.
“What’s taking so long?” he asked and stood there, probably catching tears in his eyes.
“I burned it” he said through the gulp in his throat. He wanted to sound matter-of-factly but instead he almost teared up, speaking on the exhale like some whiny child.
Copia was silent for a long moment. Then he took the bag from his hands and poured its contents into the bowl.
“Nah, it’s not that bad,” he said, shrugging. “Look, some pieces are burnt but most of them are fine.” He carefully fished out the least burnt grain and popped it in the mouth, chewing it with a smile. “Quite good. Let’s go to bed so we can both get horny for Freddy and jerk each other off.”
Perpetua took a small piece and tried it. Then spat it out to the sink.
“It’s awful!” he said. “Inedible!”
“It tastes okay to me. I will eat it if you don’t want to.”
He knew his brother was a madman but there must be some limit to it. It couldn’t taste good to him. Not if he was a functional human being. With taste buds. It was bitter, oily and utterly disgusting.
And Copia was ready to eat the entire bowl. For him.
“Stop it,” he said. “You will get yourself sick. It’s not worth it” he protested. What he meant was ‘I’m not worthy’.
“Look, I’m not gonna waste perfectly decent popcorn just because you are peaky.”
“No, seriously, stop it,” Perpetua said. “I’m fine, just don’t eat it.”
Stop, his heart begged. Don’t make me love you even more. I am terrified of how much I love you already. I can’t take more. I will burst from the inside with all the love I have for you.
Copia ate a whole handful of burnt popcorn at once, looking him straight in the eye. Perpetua watched him struggle through it, ready to cry but for an entirely different reason than the moment before.
“I won’t kiss you if you're going to taste like it,” he threatened.
Copia rolled his eyes but put the bowl down.
“Fine. But only because I want to kiss you. Not because there is something wrong with the popcorn.”
Copia got sick because of it. Perpetua was able to make a good chamomile tea for that.
He didn’t, though, figure out how to tell his twin brother that he loves him more than life itself.
***
“He told me that the Clergy wants me to summon Ghoul the next full moon,” Perpetua said. He paced around Copia’s room. “Which is in five days. If I don't do it, they will do it for me.”
Copia was furious just at the mere suggestion of that.
“They have no right to do so and no authority to pull off a stunt like that” he growled. “Ghouls are ours. Summon one then and let it eat Psalterian’s face.”
“I’m not ready!” Perpetua argued. “I will only make a fool of myself! I don’t want to give them an excuse to…” To what exactly, he wondered himself. To expel him from the Ministry, like some troublesome child? To admit that bringing him here was a mistake? Or to give them more power over him?
“Listen, summoning may not work out, it happens…”
“Has it ever happened to you?” He interrupted. “Or to any Papa before me?”
“A failed summoning isn’t some kind of erectile dysfunction, it happens more often than to one in five men” Copia went for a bad joke because he truly didn’t know how to calm his twin. It didn’t work.
“Has it ever happened to you?” Perpetua repeated.
“No” Copia was forced to admit. “It has never happened to me. And therefore it won’t happen to you too. We are of the same blood. The same dark power in both of us, si?”
At this point Perpetua knew that his twin was slipping into Italian when he was nervous which didn’t help at all with the panic rising in his chest.
“Do you really think I can do it?” He asked. “Be honest.”
Copia sat in the chair and poured them some wine.
“I think you are fully capable of summoning an elemental,” he said with a sigh. “Tame it though, make it into a Ghoul… Books don’t prepare you for it. The crash course in sigils and black magic isn’t what you need, not really. Signs and words of summoning are only as useful as you can fill them with your own power, your will to face the mystery underlying our plane of existence, your ability to withstand what you will see under the veil…” Copia stopped, so Perpetua finished it for him.
“And you find me lacking in these aspects.”
“Not lacking,” Frater said. “Just underprepared. You need more time to understand what ‘the power of your sin’ really means.”
“Why can’t you just tell me?”
Copia gestured for him to sit. Perpetua did so, accepting the glass of wine, even if his stomach was tight with fear.
“You still think sin is a form of transgression against some arbitrary set of rules” Copia explained. “And you feel guilty for your sins, ashamed, even as you revel in them. You asked me once to teach you how to live without shame. It starts like this: you need to recognize that what you call sin is not a departure from god but a recognition of one's needs. Sin is an appetite, a craving within you. The power of sin doesn’t come from the pleasure of it but from the knowledge about yourself that your sins provide. Know thy sins, know thyself, learn your needs and appetites even if they are difficult to accept.”
“Is there no transgression in your world, brother?” Perpetua asked quietly.
“Of course there is. There are social rules and laws. But there is no sin.”
For Perpetua it was so hard to conceptualize: a word without sin. Like a Garden of Eden before the first bite from Forbidden Fruit. The Satanic Church worshiped Eve, the Mother of Sin, for her disobedience. The stained glasses in the Ministry were full of her images, offering the Fruit to the disciples of Satan. The world of Lucifer was filled with sin that wasn’t sin, apparently.
Know thyself. Accept your appetites. It went against everything he had been taught his entire life: don’t think about it, avoid it, repress it, condemn it.
He didn’t even know where to start unlearning all those things. And he was afraid about what he could learn of himself without these restraints.
“What then if my sin teaches me I want to hurt someone? Or be hurt?” Perpetua asked quietly.
“Do you want me to hear your confession?” Copia laughed a little but he stopped when he saw blush on his twin’s cheek. He really needed his papal paint to cover how easily he blushed. “Fuck, you do. You would love it, don’t you? Me in my cardinal cassock, you on your knees, telling all the little sins you have committed since our last meeting, anticipating the penitence when I will choke you on my cock as a punishment.”
“Satan, fuck”. Perpetua felt how his face became so hot with blood rushing through veins.
“I think my sin right now is how much I enjoy your Catholic guilt,” Copia said. “Lust might be the perfect sin to start. You cannot escape from your own desires or hide from them behind the half-truths. People sexualize what is unpleasant or painful in order to deal with it, you know. Which gives me an idea. An exercise in sin if you will. Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do”. I trust you more than I trust myself, Perpetua thought.
“Excellent”. Copia stood up and went to the doors, opened it and ushered two Ghouls standing behind them inside. Dewdrop and Swiss walked step by step behind them as Frater took them all to the bedroom.
“You will strip and lie down on the bed” he instructed Perpetua. “Ghouls will grab your hands and legs so you cannot move an inch. And I will suck you off, but only as long as you will be telling me what you want to do with me, to me and so on, when we fuck. Capisci?”
The big part of him wanted to say no, he cannot do it. He barely dared to think some of it in the midst of their trysts, he couldn’t say any of it out loud. But the desire started to burn in him the moment his brother painted the picture of sacrilegious confession and he wasn’t thinking with the right head anymore. So he nodded and took off his clothes, feeling Ghouls’ gaze upon himself as well as Copia’s. It was a strange feeling, to be the only one naked. It made him feel vulnerable but also desired, like he was some sort of a prize to be admired.
Swiss knelt on the pillows, Dew at the foot of the bed. He positioned himself between them, stretching his arms and spreading legs. Ghouls hands were immediately upon him, holding him tight. He tried to move, to put the strength of their hold to the test and he was surprised at how solid it was. He was trapped. His heart skipped in the chest and his cock jumped with the sudden rush of the blood, caused by the realization that now Copia and Ghouls can do to him whatever they want to and he couldn’t stop them, couldn’t defend himself even if he wanted to.
“Oh, you like it” Copia noticed, so familiar with his body by now. “Try harder, dearest. Feel the strength of your Ghouls. Fight for your freedom like you mean it.”
He did, breathing shallow and fast as he actually put an effort this time, trashing in their hold, under Copia’s gaze, unsuccessfully as Ghouls were unyielding. His arms and legs started to hurt from tensing his muscles, from pushing against Ghouls’ hands hard enough to get bruises.
Copia sat on the bed, removed his gloves, watching him with a smirk. Naked finger (and fuck, but the fact his brother was usually clothed from neck to toes like some freaking preacher made him mad with desire with the slightest sight of his bare skin) slid down his chest, making him shiver.
“Why do you like it?”? Copia asked, fingers slightly touching his abdomen, ghost-like sensation against the hot skin.
Oh fuck. He was supposed to use his words, to admit his sins. Studently his throat was dry, his tongue felt too big, he licked his lips, at loss. Copia tsked with disapproval, withdrawing his hand.
“I will only touch you when you speak,” Frater reminded him.
Perpetua took a deep breath, wanting to say something, anything. He closed his eyes shut. He felt as Frater moved, taking something from the drawer in the nightstand.
“Maybe this will help” Frater said and Perpetua opened his eyes just in time to see a blindfold being put on him. It was well-fitted, leaving him in the darkness he couldn’t escape. “Alright?” Copia asked, stroking his hair.
He nodded. Yes, it was easier when he couldn’t see. It felt almost like he was hidden now, in the darkness, like they couldn’t see him and his shame.
“Thank you.” He sighed with relief.
Copia returned to his previous place, fingers back on his twin’s chest, sliding down.
“That’s a nice view. Maybe I will gag you too, next time. Put a headphones on you, make you listen to my songs, my voice in your ears as I fuck you to the rhythm…”
“Yes, please,” he moaned. He wanted it so badly. He lifted his lips, seeking more touch.
“Such a polite Papa.” Copia grasped his cock at the base. “Now answer the question: why do you like it?”
It was harder than any examination of conscience he had ever done. He could only think about the fingers around his cock, how badly he wanted it to grasp him firmer.
“I…” He swallowed. With the first word coming from his mount, Copia moved his fingers, sliding them up, making him moan in response. “Fuck, Satan, yes… I like… Fuck, just like that… I like… being forced…” It hurt to admit it. It barred his soul. But yes, that was it: he wanted this sin, this pleasure to be forced upon him, he wanted to be left with no choice, so he couldn’t be blamed for enjoying it.
“Good boy” Copia purred, bowed down, caught the tip of his twin’s cock between his lips and sucked it gently, gathering all the precume on his tongue. He loved the taste of it. Perpetua hips jerked, demanding more of his mouth. But he was silent again, just breathing heavily, so Copia reluctantly pulled back. “Come on, brother, you were already so good at this game. Remember our first night together? You told me you want me to fuck in front of entire congregation. Tell me more, now. What else do you want?”
Things were different back then, he wanted to say. I was in love only with the image of you in my head. I was lusting for you. Now I love the real you. Now I need you.
“You require some more encouragement,” Copia decided. “Swiss, play with him a little. Taste him, maybe.”
There was a sound, almost wet, like a creeping snake, and then something warm and slick touched his nipple. His back arched with the sensation. It was like a tongue, forked one, licking him, but Swiss didn’t move which meant his tongue – if it was it – was inhumanly long, tentacle-like, hot as hell itself and so damn clever as it moved over his nipple and the Satan’s mark on his chest.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he was chanting, trashing again, trying to get more of Swiss’ caresses. “I… I want him to… to rim me with it!” It was more of a groan than a sentence.
Copia’s lips were back on his prick, sliding up and down as he swallowed him with the proficiency that came with a lot of experience. Just a few times, stopping abruptly as Perpetua went silent.
“Nooo,” Papa protested. “Don’t stop, I’m so close…”
“You know the rules…” He felt Frater’s breath on the top of his dick.
Perpetua bitted his own lip, the sweet pain of it merged into one with the pleasure provided by Swiss’ tongue. Fuck, how he wanted to see it.
“You want our good boy Swiss to rim you, yeah? What else?” Copia asked, squeezing the base of his cock.
“All of them…” he whimpered. “I want all of them, our Ghouls, want them to hold me down and to fuck me in turns, one after another, want you to tell them how to do it, instruct them, so they can keep me stuffed on both side and ready for you…” Copia’s lips were back on him, Swiss’ tongue danced all around his chest, he couldn’t stay quite now, he must keep going, so close to orgasm he almost tasted it. “I want to fuck your mouth, choke you, feed you my cum!” He screamed now, hips jerking uncontrollably straight into Copia’s throat. “I want to drink your blood, fuck, I miss the taste of it, I dream all day of cutting you open for me, baiting into you hard enough to draw blood out, want to lick blood from your cock…!” He came with a loud shout, spilling into Copia’s mouth, felt his through clenching around him as he swallowed, prolonging his orgasm into eternity. Or at least it felt like eternity for a moment.
He collapsed on the bed, exhausted. It took him a minute to realize that Ghouls didn’t move. Dew only nudged his legs further apart. Then he felt Copia’s finger brushing against his entrance.
“Ready for the second round?” Frater asked.
He never felt so exposed in his life. It was overwhelming. It was too much.
He wanted more.
Saying “yes” got him one finger right into the oversensitive opening.
He wanted the whole hand. Confessing to that made his brother curse and shift in bed.
Desire thrummed through him, alongside with shame. He told Copia about how shame made arousal stronger, how he made shame feel sweet now. He was letting out these pathetic little sobs, confessing his many sins: how he wanted to be pinned down and used, owned and controlled by his brother, fucked by him for his pleasure only, just a nice, warm, wet hole for Copia to spill into whenever he pleased; how he wanted to get spanked, and flogged, and slapped, how he dreamed of Copia’s hitting him in anger, an imposter he was, so he can be punished and forgiven. These thoughts weren’t new to him. Perpetua already knew he would gladly let Copia do anything to him. He confessed how he would love to be stacked under his desk in the Frater’s office, just to suck him off when he is bored by his duties.
With four fingers stuffing him full and still made him crave more, he discovered new sins within himself: how he wanted to put Ghouls and Copia on leashes, to make sure that they would never leave him, to keep them close all time, bound to him, how he craved to fuck is brother raw, no prep, to force himself into his body, so Copia would feel every second and inch of it for days, how he wishes he could fuck his throat and ass at the same time… He was taken aback by the sheer force of the possessiveness he felt. He wanted to cut his name on Copia’s body, to mark him permanently as his own. He confesses his fantasies about childhood and adolescence they could have spent together, how they would become each other's first kisses, first and only crushes, first time everything, together.
“I will never let you go” he cried out, didn’t care how unhinge he sounded, as Frater was getting his whole hand inside him. The thumb was the largest part of it so far, and for Perpetua it felt like being ripped open, even when Copia curled his palm a little to make it not as wide. When he pulled his hand back, his fingers stayed inside. Perpetua was biting his lips to keep himself from screaming. It was painful and uncomfortable and couldn’t get enough of it, his cock hard and leaking against his belly. Everything felt just on the right side of unbearable. He tried to obey and relax his already sore muscles. His rim was becoming loose and sloppy with every move. Copia was rotating his fist slowly back and forth, obscene, wet sounds were filling the room. He uncurled his fingers deliberately, seeking any part inside that has not yet been tenderly abused. Tears were running down Perpetua’s face. He never had felt so light and so full in his life. Every move overstimulated his sweat spot, and Copia didn’t stop even when his twin became incoherent with sobs and moans. The pleasure was so intense and pain so sharp that Perpetua was convinced orgasm couldn’t compare with it. Or maybe he was coming all this time, his cock was so wet. “Please, please, please…” Perpetua sobbed, not knowing he was asking for more or for it to stop before his brain would melt.
Copia kept fucking him with his hand and grinding against his prostate, faster and faster, a series of shallow punches while rotating his fist. The wave of pleasure so intense that it made muscles spasm started in Perpetua’s toes and came crashing through his entire body, forcing the scream out of him. It took him out. He didn’t know if he lost consciousness or fell asleep right after orgasm, but he didn’t feel anything for a long time, even the removal of hand from his body. The blindfold was also taken off. At some point he half wake up to Dew fingers in his hair, stroking him and to see Swiss kneeling next to be bed, Copia fucking Ghoul’s mouth, wide open to not cut Frater with sharp fangs. He could only blink and fall asleep again.
***
He dreamed that he was asleep which is to say he knew it was a dream – his body was in the Copia’s bed, right next to his brother, with Ghouls watching over them – but it the dream he was awake, looking eyes with Swiss sitting on the floor, pale, blue flames visible in the mask’s goggles. Copia was breathing evenly and something moved on the sheets. He looked towards the movement and would scream if it wasn’t a dream.
Giant black snake was creeping slowly on his body. He glanced at Swiss, because if he was in danger Ghoul would help him but the creature seemed unbothered, even though he noticed the serpent. He didn’t feel the weight of the snake, but heard the rustling of its scales. There was a musky, damp smell to it. He was and wasn’t asleep and the snake was and wasn’t real. He should recoil but was strangely calm. Leviathan the slant serpent, Leviathan the tortuous serpent he remembered the word of prophet Isaiah. The asp and the basilisk. How did John the Baptist call us, he wondered for a moment. Ah yes. A “brood of vipers”.
He was on the side of the serpent now. The ancient Serpent Deceiver
And he rather liked snakes. He remembered hot summers in his childhood when he hid in the tall grass under the trees, half asleep, like now, and grass snakes slithering on his legs, tickling him. He spent hours imagining his body becoming one with the soil under him, decaying, becoming nourishment for bugs, slugs and plants, uniting with the world around him. The thought of his own rotten body used to fill him with hope and comfort. To die was to become a part of something bigger and holier than just him. That is, until nuns made him scared of death and eternal damnation.
He forgot how he used to believe in different kind of god.
He wasn’t afraid now. Snake was so close now, forked tongue flicking right next to his lips. Like it was asking for a kiss.
Perpetua opened his mouth wide, inviting it in.
Snake launched forward, sliding right between his lips, through the throat and down his body. It was more like being fed than being fucked, he decided as the long, lively body went into him. He didn't even need to swallow, it all happened so fast. He felt something stirring in his core –
– King of Babylon hath devoured me, he hath crushed me, he hath set me down as an empty vessel, he hath swallowed me up like a dragon, he hath washed me clean –
– the snake, his sin, was moving in him at ease, returning to him, finally at home. It was changing his body, extra bones started to grow inside him, his material substance transforming in harmony with his soul –
– In the vastness of the cosmos and at the depths of the soul, Satan, Spirit of the Universe, dwelling within me, enlighten my path, and deepen my understanding. I embrace you, Satan, I am one with the Universe, and the Universe is one with me. I am whole –
– he moved his hand, touching Copia firmly, their fingers entwined –
– As we are one.