[m] dreams of you were too good to be true [aaron]

[ethan samuel jenkins.]

AND I'LL HATE YOU TIL THE DAY I DIE;
but there's no pain in the tears i cry.

it had been five days since ethan samuel jenkins first woke up in a room on the second floor of the desolation row mansion. he knew what was going on now, but it still hadn't really sunk in. to be honest, he didn't really care what happened - he could see the bullets fighting with each other, had watched people die and simply stared indifferently. deep within, something registered, but on the surface he seemed unfazed, disinterested and uncaring. every single person in here was here for a reason, some crime or other they had committed; their deaths would hardly be a loss to society, especially since they had already been seperated from their elders anyway. they didn't matter, and ethan didn't care. there was no one to tell him he was sick, that his sexual addiction would go away with proper counselling and that he could deal with the drugs at the priory, a high class drug rehab center. he didn't want to get better, he couldn't be assed with people telling him what to do. this place was like a safe haven to him - far, far away from the bitch who had the gall to name herself on his birth certificate as his mother. dysfunctional didn't even begin to describe his family; ethan had long since given up attempting to classify his relationships between him and his psychotic, attention starved mother, violent brother, evil ex-step father and his non existent real father. it was just easier to push it to the back of his mind and get on with the here and now, the todays and the tomorrows. everything else was utterly irrelevant. he had no past he wished to remember, and his life was pretty meaningless right now, so the todays no longer mattered when they became yesterdays.

right now, ethan was sitting on a table in the center of the library, not really doing anything other than looking around in boredom. the room was deserted, though he supposed anyone could be hiding behind the stacks. he took out a clear plastic bag filled with tobacco - home grown, like everything else in this building - and ripped a page out of the back of a book, the sheet with simple white paper. tearing a careful rectangle, he rolled himself a cigarette. everything was about improvisation here. luckily enough, there was a gas supply into the kitchen from the outside world which the cheats had filtered through to to allow for refills of gas lighters and such. he sparked up, inhaling deeply, already used to the strange taste which flooded his mouth before the tobacco hit, stronger than normal cigs. he shook a pack of white pills out on to the table, pushing aside two and taking them into his palm then throwing him into his mouth. the rest he began to sort into patterns, utterly bored. he wondered about the whereabouts of his older brother, aaron, looking up instinctively as if to judge if he was going to pounce on him from the shadows. it wouldn't be the first time.

the ecstacy he had taken started to kick in and ethan found himself growing aroused at his thoughts of aaron - he wasn't all bad, after all. granted, they had suffered some unpleasant encounters with each other, but ethan enjoyed their games when it got right down to it. he lay back on the table, pills scattering, forgotten in his sudden lustful mood. running his hand down his own bare chest, ethan closed his eyes and imagined that it was aaron's hand and not his own he could feel, moving it down over his crotch and gripping lightly. he could feel himself starting to get a little hard, the combination of the drugs and his own mental teasing proving impossible to resist. he cast anothe look around before popping open the button to his jeans and unzipping them, slipping his hand into them eagerly - ethan never wore boxers - and stroking himself slowly. he wasn't entirely concerned about having an audience - he was well known as a fucker by now, and this was hardly the worst thing you could see around here. he stayed quiet, though; it was sort of a golden rule to avoid drawing too much attention to yourself around here. gasping softly, he let aaron's name pass his lips, imagining for once that aaron was pleasuring him instead of simply taking him and discarding him like a used and broken toy. it was partly this frustration which led ethan into situations like the one he was currently in, the need for gratification far more powerful than any sense of common courtesy or decency. besides, who gave a fuck what anyone else wanted?


tagged; cade<3 words; 797 credits; lyrics, graphics, layout all © kirstie.
notes; first posts succck. i love you though =3 thanks for making aaron <3

[aaron]

He can't forget, can't forgive for what they said
He's never been so hurt but today the screaming is over.

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For Aaron Marshall Jenkins, the past five days had felt like nothing new. The mansion of desolation row was not better or worse than where he had been living before. Sure, he was isolated from the rest of the world, stuck inside the mansion with however many criminals just like himself, but in all honesty he was indifferent. The only thing that had struck him, as he awoke to find himself tossed on a bed inside this place, was the whereabouts of his brother. It didn’t matter that he happened to resent the boy, or that the level they functioned on together was entirely full of rage, sex and violence. It was instinct for him to wonder where he was. This was never spoken though; a bullet would be seen as weak if this was exposed, and surely it would be used against him. These thoughts of a family bond, of… love, were kept secret, hidden deep down within Aaron’s chest where they were rarely thought of, even more rarely reflected upon.

It was a hard issue for him to deal with, so he simply didn’t. The arguments between the two of them generally consisted of Ethan telling Aaron how much of a shit brother he was, how he hated him for just standing by and letting him be raped and beaten night after night. This was the reason Aaron was such an angry fuck. He had done something. He had done everything. Ethan just didn’t know, and as long as Aaron was around, he would never know. The relationship they formerly had was now six feet under, buried deep and never to be found. On some level, Aaron still felt it; the desire to protect and comfort his baby brother that would likely never die. This desire wasn’t entirely pushed from Aaron’s mind, and it never would be, always sitting in the back where he could not touch, but still feel somehow. It made no sense. Aaron was still living in the past. If he was more like his little brother, living in the now, pushing away the past as though it had never happened, maybe he would be happier. Maybe he wouldn’t be ripping people to shreds for looking at him the wrong way, or snapping constantly on those around him. Maybe he could have tried to rebuild his relationship with his brother rather than continue to tear it down every moment it reached higher than six feet under.

Aaron’s mind took a few moments to center, to become aware of where he was again. He’d woken up in what he called his bed after what felt like a long sleep. As for the actual time, he couldn’t be sure. His cell phone didn’t work out here and had died after the first day, his watch was either an hour behind or an hour ahead, neither of which he could be sure of. What he did know, was that he was starving. He spent a few minutes finding food, making a decent sandwich from the little contents he found that were appealing, perching on the counter to eat it. Looking around the room before him, he wasn’t entirely sure about how long he could last in this house. Without knowing where Ethan was, or seeing him more than a flicker in the past five days. Aaron started to sing quietly to himself as he finished his sandwich, not a huge fan of silence, but what else could he do. By the time he was done, his song was midway through. It was one he used to sing to Ethan whenever he couldn’t sleep, all the way up to when the broken boy would crawl into his bed at night after a session with their sadistic ex-stepfather.

He figured that singing this song would help him find his brother. Not that it was the best idea. Who knew what or who was lurking around each corner that would be waiting to jump out at him. He wasn’t exactly afraid, he had a knife in his pocket and knew just how to use it, but anyone attacking had the upper hand. With only fifty percent of his hearing, only in his right ear, Aaron had always been a little screwed. It was why he worked out so much, took care of his eyes and all else. The last thing he wanted to do was lose another sense, or his hearing entirely. He was listening carefully for some sign of Ethan when he heard the softest peep coming from a room down the hall. When Aaron stuck his head in, he found that it was the library, but he also found his baby brother lying on one of the tables. From what he could see, the boy’s hand was down his pants, touching himself. Aaron caught the sound of his own name on Ethan’s lips, immediately wandering over to his apparently high sibling. Still a tad drunk from the night before, Aaron didn’t see why he couldn’t be a tad nice to the boy for once. He was a bastard to him the rest of the time. Without saying a word, he gently tugged Ethan’s hand off of himself, replacing it with his own, starting to stroke him firmly. “What? Did you miss me or something, bitch?” Aaron hissed quietly, mouth next to Ethan’s ear as he spoke. He was full of surprises.

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tagged: kirstiee <3
status: finito
word count: 922
credit: graphics to kirstie, template to mee.
notes: i happen to love them already <3

[/size] [/blockquote][/blockquote]

[ethan samuel jenkins.]

AND I'LL HATE YOU TIL THE DAY I DIE;
but there's no pain in the tears i cry.

ethan simply refused to think about his 'home' before coming here. yeah, it had been a fucking mansion filled with every little boy's dream, but that had been a ruse. it was just a way to pawn the boys off so they wouldn't interrupt or disturb their self-centered bitch of a mother from her latest conquest, a twenty-something toyboy with more sexual stamina than a bull. it was sickening really. no wonder, really, that after everything the smaller jenkins had seen and been through, that sex ruled his life in such a powerful way. he thought of himself as a tool, no good for anything other than satisfying someone else's carnal desires. it was, after all, all he had been good for in the past. his ex-stepdad certainly hadn't been interested in his blindingly intelligent conversation. don't get me wrong, ethan had been intelligent as a child, before he'd been distracted by the small matter of having a dick shoved up his eleven year old ass every night and even some mornings before school. his mind suddenly seemed unimportant and he had become withdrawn, sullen and silent, the bubbly flamboyant boy who had begun to show himself quickly hidden from view as he learned to trust no-one and keep his thoughts to himself. he had kept a diary at first, then burned it when reading through the pages had brought him to the verge of tears, refusing to let the acts affect him so badly once they were through. after all, he always had the next one to look forward to. ethan's scars ran deep across his heart; sometimes he wondered if you pressed hard enough on his chest if you would feel them.

as for the matter of aaron, ethan could barely go there in his mind. he had once wanted to forgive aaron for not being there; he had confronted him and they had argued, only for aaron to abuse him the same way his ex-stepfather had. something had died forever inside ethan that night, perhaps it was the last piece of trust he had left, maybe it was something deeper than that. ethan didn't know, but that was the night he had learned to switch off, just lying there as aaron forced himself on him, then getting up and walking out. he had spent three weeks on the street after that, not bothering to come home until he had been found dossing on the street by a 'sympathetic' police officer who had returned him, tattered, thin and shaking to his front door where his poor, hard done by mother had given an oscar worthy performance of gratitude while he had sullenly retreated to his room and slammed the door, sitting behind it so no one could come in. sometimes his night terrors involved hearing her screaming at him through that door, but more often than not, his memories merged together and he imagined being raped by his ex-stepdad and aaron at the same time. it had never happened, but the way his life merged together on the drugs now, it could have for all ethan knew. the problem was that ethan simply couldn't make himself hate aaron - aaron who had looked after him for so many years between their nanny leaving and their mother marrying that prick. it was hard for him to accept that maybe aaron just wasn't a nice person any more. or maybe it was just that he couldn't exactly blame aaron; their life had been hard and full of rejection, maybe aaron was just taking what he needed from it. it just fuelled ethan's belief that he himself was a tool to be used for other people's needs.

that day had started out as normal as anything possibly could on desolation row, waking up in his comfortable bed - every bed was comfortable to him after sleeping on the streets, in all honesty - and reaching for his stash which he kept in a slit in his mattress. he had fixed himself up and shoved his crack pipe in his shoulder bag, then slung it around his neck. it hardly mattered if he looked gay - most people could discern that about him the moment they saw him with his lips wrapped around some guy's dick. it wasn't exactly a secret. next, ethan had fetched some food from the kitchen, staying there for less than a moment. it didn't really matter what he ate, his tastebuds were so shot from the crack smoke that everything tasted good.after his small meal - probably his only one of the day - he had gone up to the roof to make sure there were no more new arrivals and that there was no trouble, which there had been, then retreated to the library where he knew it would be peaceful. he didn't want an altercation. for obvious reasons, he loathed violence, though he was perfectly capable of starting it if he needed to.

once in the library, he had allowed his mind to wander, thinking about aaron, who he had actually been avoiding. he knew his brother was here, but had wanted to get set up on his own before aaron came looking for him. it had worked; he had a full list of 'clients' and more arriving every day who could satisfy his lust; not to mention the multiple dealers he had acquired who would hand him their best gear just for the sight of his mouth enveloping their cocks. things were going good for the prostitute, and so far aaron hadn't noticed him ducking out of sight when they saw each other in the halls, he hoped. the smaller boy wasn't thinking about this as he lay on the table, however, his own hand working over himself with experience, wetting his lips with his tongue frequently as he fought his own moans. his eyes were closed as aaron approached him and barely had time to flicker open when his own hand was replaced by a larger one, the stroking becoming firmer and more unpredictable. his whole body arched against the new sensation, back lifting off of the table in pleasure as he moaned, opening his eyes to see who was gratifying him all of a sudden. he was surprised, but not displeased when he spotted his brother, his own hand reaching out to stroke down aaron's chest to his waistband, small fingers hooking into it and pulling him closer, aaron's words in his ear making him shudder and moan his name again. "aaron..." he gasped, the hand on his brother's waistband fumbling clumsily and trying to unfasten the button. he wasn't going to pretend even for a second that he didn't want aaron right now; he did. in his mind, the rapes were their game. he had managed, mostly, to convince himself of his lust towards aaron, that was how he had ended up in this position. the only time he couldn't pretend was when aaron made it obvious that he himself had no control... he hated that.



tagged; cade<3 words; 1,202 credits; lyrics, graphics, layout all © kirstie.
notes; that's a bit better of a post XD i love them toooo =3