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Diego’s three fingers deep in his little brother when he has a revelation .
It’s not the first time he’s been any fingers deep in his little brother. It’s the sixth. It’s been two weeks since Ben shouldered his way into Diego’s room and laid out his sweet, rambling proposal. This time though, when Ben takes two fingers without much effort and a third with only a breathy, needy little cry - Diego has a revelation. Ben’s more than ready for Klaus. That’s not the revelation.
The revelation is this:
This is the healthiest relationship Diego’s ever been a part of, and it’s between him and two of his brothers.
***
Sounds crazy, right? That anything between them should be so healthy. And maybe, yeah, it’s only by contrast to his previous dysfunctional relationships. But it’s true all the same. Diego can explain.
Eudora had been his longest girlfriend (a full eleven months) and the only woman to ever really want to try. Diego had always asked too much of her, had always taken too much. He hadn’t had shit to give, just secrets and bullshit, and he hadn’t been willing to part with those, let alone anything healthy or normal. She’d always told him the key to a healthy relationship was honesty, affection, and empathy. Diego had been shit at all three. He wouldn’t talk about his past; he was terrible at expressing affection and was the shittiest team player you’d ever meet. Didn’t trust anyone to have his back, and would rather do it his damn self then ask for help. He...He wanted to trust her. He really did. But how could he trust her, when she didn’t really know him? What if she found out?
See it’s just ---- Ben trusts him. Ben comes to him for help. Twice now, he’s trusted Diego with something that was clearly fucking him up and that? That’s fucking precious . Diego is more than aware that Ben is grown. He’s done his thirty years, one way or the other, just the same as the rest of them. But he died young, and some days that's readily apparent. But he trusts Diego. And Klaus - Klaus is honest. Klaus is honest with Diego, when they’re alone, tells Diego precisely like it is and it’s compelling, it’s catching; Diego doesn’t hide when they’re alone. More than that - Diego trusts Klaus to be honest with him.
And empathy?
Well. What is empathy anyway? The big, red, dusty dictionary in Father’s study said;
Em·pa·thy
/ˈempəTHē/
Noun
- the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.
If that’s not what they were doing....well, Diego can’t think of any better way to explain it.
Klaus is honest; Ben trusts him. He’s...not really sure anyone’s ever trusted him like that before. Why would they? When he left the academy, Diego built his life on lies and secrets. He hadn’t met a woman willing to deal with that shit, not even Eudora, and that was more than fair. Klaus and Ben know his secrets. Klaus and Ben are his secrets; they’re the past he tried to bury, and he’s so goddamn glad he failed.
So yeah - Diego’s thirty years old, and the healthiest relationship is Klaus and Ben.
Klaus and Ben.
***
Diego knows. This time, next time - soon.
Ben’s ready. Ben’s been ready.
Ben’s in his lap, riding his fingers real pretty like, both hands curled over Diego’s shoulders. The whole fucking room smells like come and sweat. Diego’s got one hand under Ben, the other on his dick, and he’s half thinking about how badly he wants to throw Ben down and ride his little ass, and half thinking about how good he’s going to look taking Klaus’ cock.
“Look at you, Benny. You did all this for Klaus’,” he says, breathless but rough. “ You really are a good boy, aren’t you? ” Diego can’t capture that saccharine sweet tone Klaus uses, the one that makes Ben keen and shiver. Diego doesn’t sound sweet.
He feels Ben clench down on him, feels it steal the breath right out of his lungs. “Its’---it’s not just---” Ben’s been trying to talk more, can’t most the time, but there’s something especially delicious in watching him try and fail . “For him.”
“I licked it first.” Diego laughs, shaking his shoulders. “Lean back, put your hands on my legs--- fuck . Yeah---” God - but he takes it so well . Not just Diego’s fingers, but direction in general. Diego supposes their childhood lends itself to instinctual obedience. He curls his fingers, bounces Ben a little so he takes it harder, and it looks so good, God, he looks so good . He likes to watch, and more importantly, Ben wants to be watched. If that’s not empathy, what the hell is? He’s fingering his little brother open, so his other brother can fuck him and all Diego wants to do is be there so he can watch Klaus’ come drip down Ben’s balls right before he licks it up.
It’s obscene, it’s disgusting, it’s fucking filthy, but Diego is...surprisingly okay with that, three fingers deep in his little brother's ass. Feels good.
***
He’s maybe embracing Klaus seedier lifestyle with a little too much enthusiasm because getting his dick in either of his brothers is pretty much all he can think about these days. He can’t even look Ben in the eye over the breakfast table, not without remembering the way his toes curl when he comes. And God forbid he look up at the wrong time and see Klaus blowing on his coffee, pale mouth pursed, long slender fingers wrapped around one of Mom’s dainty, porcelain cups. He can’t rescue himself from his own wayward mind, can’t escape his thoughts. And they’re always there - his brothers and the thoughts.
“Where are you today, man?” Luther asks, holding out a hand to haul Diego back to his feet. Sparing takes no days off, and as much as Diego typically wants to drop Luther off a bridge, he’s a good partner. He certainly doesn’t pull punches. He pats Diego roughly on the back, nearly knocking him straight off his feet again. “I’m gonna go find Allison. Get at me when your heads in the game.”
As much as he physically cannot stand Luther, Luther’s advice, or Luther’s general approach to any problem whatsoever- Diego can’t disagree. He’s a mess today, wired and wild. Distracted. He makes a beeline for the punching bag, desperate to shake out some of the tension in his shoulders. He’d made the mistake of walking past the solarium Ben, and Klaus favored, to find the latter feeding the former little bits of honey buns from the end of his long fingers. Like it was nothing at all, perfectly natural, Ben with a book in hand, Klaus with a joint and he had the strangest urge to join them, but couldn’t figure out where he’d fit, exactly. They’re careless, or perhaps just carefree, in their affection for each other. Diego isn’t so liberal with his regard for literally anything.
He doesn’t know how to be, really. (See Eudora’s second suggestion for a healthy relationship; affection.) He doesn’t know how to enjoy things with an audience.
They’re don’t flaunt it, not in any obscene way, but they don’t startle when their fingers touch as they pass the pitcher of lemonade across the table and Diego cannot say the same. Every touch feels so much like a brand, and he knows - God, he just knows - he’d forget himself if he let them touch him familiarly . He’d forget himself and put his hands on them back, forget himself and touch Benny’s mouth, slip to his knees for Klaus, it’s hard to say, but Diego knows. The thing he becomes when he’s with them is something different, an alias unto himself and Diego envies the bastard, he does, but he’s not Klaus, not Ben...he’s not that brave.
Just like the devil, to think of him is to summon him. Klaus pours in through a crack in the door, a wisp of white smoke. Diego can’t help but wonder if he’d taste Ben on Klaus' tongue if they kissed.
When they kiss.
(some things are inevitable)
“Luther tap out early?” Klaus speaks lightly, fingers already moving on the assorted weapons laid out in tidy rows on the table. He picks up a knife - one of Diego’s favorites - tossing it up and catching it by the sharp, glinting tip. It makes Diego uneasy to watch, makes his spine curl and crack like a threatened cat. “Hope he isn’t going easy on you, Gogo.”
The worst part is - Diego’s pretty sure Luther was . “Nothing I can’t take,” he grunts, cocking his arm back to land another punch on the bag. “What brings you by? This is the gym, in case you're lost.”
“Oh, just because I don’t drop by the workout room, doesn’t mean I’m not getting my cardio in, brother-mine.” He winks, because he’s Klaus, but throws the knife again, higher this time, catching it blindly and Diego---doesn’t like it. He’s always found Klaus to be something dark, but with a knife in hand, he looks downright deadly. Diego doesn’t like how much he likes it. “I get it in.”
Diego flushes. Yesterday, Klaus had put three fingers up Diego’s ass, and four hours later - Diego showed Ben all the new things he learned. “Klaus.”
“You wanna throw down? Wanna take it to the mats? I’m spritely; you might be surprised.” The thing is - Diego has seen Klaus fight. And Klaus fights dirty . Still - Diego wants to fucking touch him, and he’ll take whatever invitation he can get.
“Sure.” He dusts his hands off on the thighs of his jeans. “But throw that first. Show me what you got.”
“Throw it where?” Klaus asks, with a bemused sort of smile, as he balances it on a fingertip. Diego thinks it’s fucking disgusting how easy he makes it look. He’s showing off. He’s flirting with Diego. He’s flirting with Diego like Diego isn’t constantly hard-up for any scrap of attention, any remnant second of depravity. As if charming Diego is in any way necessary. It’s...nice, in a way. Nicer than Diego thought fucking around with his brother would be and he’ll admit - he’s thought about it a lot. “What's my target?”
There’s an actual red-and-white target on the far wall, along with many other people-shaped targets Diego hasn’t used in years. He points to the door instead, to the Umbrella insignia carved above in glossy, dark mahogany. “Oh. Up. I’m not very good with up,” Klaus admits, like weakness won’t hurt him, won’t crack open a fault line in his heart. He squares up though, turning his body at an awkward angle, raising his arm at a sloppier angle and throwing the knife with a limp wrist. It spins, sails, and sinks into the wood, a few inches left of the handle. His form his bad, Diego thinks, but his aim is not . But then, that’s Klaus - jack of all trades, and master of none.
(But a jack of all trades is better than a master of just one)
“Eh,” Klaus shrugs, tilting his head to inspect his work. “I’ll stick to raising the dead.” He turns back to Diego, nothing but smiles and that’s what Diego wishes he could figure out, how to let things go. How to be bad at things without falling the fuck apart. “So...Sir’s rules or nah?”
It startles a laugh out of Diego, and he finds himself agreeing more on a whim than any practical purpose. “Sure,” he says, eyes drifting low to Klaus unreasonable pants. “Do you want to change first?”
He shrugs out of his ridiculous feathered coat, throwing it carelessly over a weight bench. “Please, these are my best weapon.” He spins as he says it, exposing the long, pale expanse of his back, shoulder blades in sharp relief, the rigged bump and rise of his spine. “Come on Gogo, let’s do this. Lay me out, put me on my back. Just like old times, except this time with significant sexual tension. ”
Diego takes his place, back to back with Klaus just like Sir use to direct them. “Three steps, then go,” he mutters like they both don’t fucking know. There’s no need to count down, no need for any kind of instruction after that. They know. Klaus wasn't pushed as much as Diego, Luther, or even Allison, but he’d been expected to spar regularly. They take their three steps and then---
Diego finds himself flat on his back, on the floor, again . Just like that. Just like that .
(Klaus hits from the left - he always has. Diego’s a fool for forgetting.)
He doesn’t offer Diego a hand up, doesn’t get a chance, because Diego springs forward with intent. Klaus is 91% legs, and he uses them to his advantage. He sweeps his foot out, laughing when Diego’s forced to jump awkwardly up, instead of away, and turns just in time to drive the sharp peak of his shoulder into Diego’s sternum.
“Dad should have made you spar more,” Diego grunts, grabbing him by the inside of his upper arm, and hauling him backward. “You could have been really good.”
“That’s true for a lot of things,” Klaus says in turn, wriggling like a wet cat. “Buuuuuut, I prefer to be mediocre at best. Disappointing if I can get away with it. And boy, can I .”
And God - that cuts in a cerebral way, stabbing Diego straight behind the eye with a lifetime of repressed childhood trauma. “You’re not---you’re not disappointing, Klaus. I just meant---”
“I know what you meant.” Klaus laughs and throws himself backward so far in Diego’s arms, Diego’s forced to let him go or dislocate his arm. With a strangely lithe backward handstand, Klaus springs to his feet from his hands like a deranged clown. It’s not a particularly elegant move, but shockingly effective. He’s out of Diego’s grip, and out of reach both. It only serves to prove Diego’s original point. Klaus was a dirty, scrappy fighter. “This? I didn’t learn this from Dad. I learned this from bar hopping with handsy bouncers.” He winks, shaking his shoulders out a little. “And outrunning cops.”
That...sounds fairly realistic actually. Diego laughs and rolls his own shoulder, the left twinging where he’d hesitated a second too long in releasing Klaus. “Just like when we were little, huh?” Cops and Robbers (Umbrella Academy and the Bad Guys) had been a favored game as children, and one their father didn’t entirely disapprove of. ”You wanna be the cop or the robber?”
Klaus stops short where he’s standing. He catches Diego’s eye in a strange way, a way with weight, with tangible heat and Diego thinks maybe Klaus is looking straight into his soul. He hopes not. He’s not sure what Klas might find. “C’mon Gogo - you know I’m always the bad guy.”
And before Diego can dispute that - Klaus isn’t bad, he’s not - Klaus is off. Diego chases on reflex, like a fucking dog, darting forward but Klaus is fast . Klaus has legs up to Diego’s nipple ring, and he’s a squirrelly little shit.
“Hey!” He cries, when Klaus launches himself up, hooking is long fingers over the top of the open door and hauling the whole his body to perch on the narrow ledge like a fucking crow. “That can’t be fair.” The physics alone seem unlikely, but then - Diego’s always suspected Klaus had hollow bird bones, and possibly a few extra than your standard superhuman.
“Parkour bitches. There are no rules in Cops and Robbers. Why would a bad guy play fairly?” Klaus balks, rolling his bright eyes. “What are you gonna do, Officer Haaaaaagh--- ”
Diego figures---if there are no rules...
He swings the fucking door. Klaus falls off with a thump and a roll, but he grabs Diego’s ankle as he comes up, upending him with shameful ease. He sprints away before Diego can retaliate, because he’s smart, and laughs the whole fucking time. “Run, run, as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m---”
If they’re not fighting fair ...
He throws a free weight in Klaus’ path and watches all his brothers fine, feline grace fly right out the fucking window as he windmill flips, ass over kettle, onto the floor in an ungainly, noodle-limbed heap.
“---the man who is too old for this, God .” He wheezes from the floorboards, and Diego takes pity on him, crossing the room to offer a hand.
Only to end up, face-down, on the floor again.
“Haha, possum fakeout brotherfucker,” Klaus cackles, dropping the bulk of his weight onto Diego’s back.
He gets a hold of one hand, yanking Klaus down, half off him, just enough to roll onto his back and drive an elbow into Klaus’ belly. “Did you just call me a----”
“O w ow ow!” Klaus is forced to curl out of Diego’s grip, and it’s easy from there, to get him belly down. Diego’s always been better at close-quarters, hand-to-hand and Klaus is shit once he’s off his feet. If Diego knew any better - he’d say Klaus planned it like this. And as he settles himself over Klaus, thighs bracketing the deep curve of his back - he’s damn sure of it, given the way he’s pushing up into the space between Diego’s leg. “Brotherfucker seemed more fitting, given the circumstances. Is that a circumstance in your pocket I feel right now or....”
And okay. Diego maybe absolutely has a boner.
“We could find out?” He suggests, easily emboldened by that deep curve of Klaus back, and the way his palm fits perfectly between the sharp cut of his shoulder blades. This is...this is fun. Diego hasn’t had a lot of fun in the past few years. This is easy, and Diego wants it. Klaus has twin dimples just above the waistband of his pants and Diego wants to bite them. He’s spent the last two weeks fingering Ben open, he thinks he’s probably pretty good at it now, thinks he’d like to show Klaus what he’s learned. He puts a hand in Klaus' hair, tests the water there with his fingers tangled in the long, broken curls. He pulls, just a little, and Klaus shivers all over. Fuck . “How well it fits.” God- Diego wants to fuck him. He shifts down, drags his cock across Klaus pert little ass and grinds. Klaus is fucking here for it, pushing up as much as he can, with Diego’s hand pinning him down. “Fuck---”
“Oh Klaus,” Luther says, as he lumbers into the room and continues to ruin Diego’s life by existing in the same space. “I didn’t think you were interested in sparring anymore.”
“When the mood strikes,” Klaus smiles up at Luther like he doesn’t have Diego’s dick digging into his ass, or his fingers pulling his hair. “Diego’s always down to throw me around a little.”
Luther laughs like he understands the sentiment which is horrifyingly hilarious. “Just make sure you’re not only sparing with Diego. You’ll pick up bad habits with a single partner.”
“Oh, I’m a firm believer in multiple partners. One’s fun and all, but two? Shit,” Klaus agrees, amicably. Diego’s still sitting on him, dick still trapped beneath his ass, hand still in his hair and big, innocent, goofy Luther is still just as oblivious. “We get Ben down on the floor with us sometimes too. Nothing like a little two-on-one to really get you ready, you know?”
“You three have always paired well together, I’m not surprised.” Luther smiles. It’s a genuine smile. Diego almost feels bad for him. “I’m glad to hear it , Klaus. I really am. Training is important.”
“Yep. Training. All that...” He props his chin in his hand and pushes his ass into Diego. “All that stuff Dad taught us. I just...really try to put it to good use.”
Like dancing for money, and smoking pot on the rooftop.
“Well. I’ll leave you two to it,” Luther waves, awkwardly, with the hand holding his duffle bag and backward shuffles out of the room like he knows there’s something off about the whole situation but can’t quite put his big, meaty fingers on it. Bless him but he is dumb, Diego thinks.
Klaus pulls against Diego’s grip in his hair, but not enough to dislodge his angled fingers. “Do you have handcuffs?”
Oh God. “They’re uh...They’re not exactly standard police issue, but uh. Yeah. I do.”
Klaus snickers and it shakes the whole of his body, vibrating where they touch. “Did you buy it the same place you bought your sex harness?”
“It’s not a sex harness! What is a sex harness even used for? I put my knives in it for fuck's sake.” Diego eases up, figuring Klaus back has to be killing him, but his brother makes no effort to escape. He rolls, instead, from belly to back and...Diego wasn’t ready for how terrible seeing him like this would be - that smirk, those eyes - all pinned down beneath him. “When is a harness required for sex? Like - what the fuck are you doing, that you need a harness?”
“That’s third level stuff, you’re still a beginner. Ask me again in a few months.” He raises his hands up over his head, lets them fall placidly, one wrist over the other. His gaze roams, up from Diego’s spread thighs, to his torso, to his arms where they’re crossed over his chest. He can feel the interested twitch of Klaus’ cock where it sits firmly beneath his ass and he thinks, loudly but to himself, why he’s never tried fingering his own ass. (Because it always seemed too filthy to consider, too deviant). “They talk about you at the Aviary, you know? I’m pretty sure Mitch would hire you on the spot.”
“Oh God, no.” Diego prefers shadows and no one looking directly at him, thank you. “Why the hell are they talking about me?”
Klaus snickers. “You slip in behind me like a little shadow. They speculate.” He rolls his hips a little, grinding up against Diego’s ass, tables turned, roles reversed. “I mean - I’m a known quantity there. They know what I like - fucking, getting fucked. My exploits are something like a legend in the club circuit. You though? Well. Tangled up with me, you could be anyone. And people love a ruin mystery.”
True enough. Klaus is popular at the Aviary and Diego has seen first hand what the people of his past are like. He’s flocked and greeted with great familiarity and fanfare. They like him. He’s a party to those people. Klaus is the physical embodiment of For A Good Time Call. He’s wild and feral and dark and shiny. He’s revered, a little. Diego has seen paramedics high five him in the streets. In certain groups, when Klaus walks in - they whisper and make space. He’s not seen as a junkie, he’s not seen as a whore or a disappointment. He’s seen as something to be in awe of. Klaus doesn’t know what Diego would give to have that (or perhaps, maybe he really, really does). “They think I’m like you?”
Klaus grins the feral one that Diego secretly loves. “They think you have to be some kind of fucked up slut if I’m still letting you follow me around. You could be anyone, Gogo. But when you walk into a place like that with me ? You’ve gotta be someone .”
Letting you. Letting . Like Klaus is doing him some kind of favor. But God- he is, and Diego can’t deny the shameful little shiver it sends up his spine. “You told that one guy I was your brother.”
“Yes, and he told everyone who would listen - but I don’t think they believe him, what with how you’re always looking at me, Gogo. It would be pretty fucked up if you were my brother.”
“Yeah,” Diego chokes on the word, throat dry at the thought of people watching him, watch Klaus. Of people thinking he’s like Klaus - deviant, obscene, beautiful . He accidentally reaches out and touches Klaus' face, cups his jaw and presses a soft, calloused thumb to the swell of his bottom lip. It’s sweeter than he intended and he flushes all over. Affection . His whole body feels strange, skin alive with every wriggling nerve. Klaus seems to see it in him though as he sees so much, and he holds Diego’s gaze, even as he turns and kisses his palm.
Honesty, affection, empathy.
Diego doesn’t know how to do that, though, except...except maybe sometimes it’s not so hard. Maybe sometimes Diego made it harder than it needed to be. Maybe Klaus, maybe Ben - maybe they make it easy. Honesty, affection, empathy . Three little words. “I’d like to kiss you,” he says, with a shaky short of breath. It’s honest, it’s affectionate, and Klaus---
Grins, just a little, just a curl at the left corner of his mouth. He pushes himself up on his elbows, tips his head back just a little like a Disney princess, to meet Diego in the middle. It’s a dry kiss, just a press of lips to lips, and it’s sweet and strange and inexplicably fills Diego with the same shivery something as he gets when Klaus calls him a slut.
It’s good .
Klaus opens his mouth just a little - nothing like the demanding, commandeering, expert kisses he’d shook Diego with not so long ago. No, just a little, letting Diego press into him, lick at his bottom lip, take more . It doesn’t smack of the same powerplay as kissing Klaus breathless, but Diego still has to put his hands on him, pull him closer, kiss him deeper.
He can feel the line of spit connecting their mouths when they part and it’s equal parts filthy and fascinating. Diego knows he should say something, should do something besides holding Klaus’ face very gently in both hands. He should---he should say something.
“You should fuck Ben.”
Well...That’s something .
Klaus laughs, breathlessly, but he doesn’t seem upset. “Ben’s not ready.”
And well. It’s not very often that Diego knows better than Klaus, in these regards. He leans in closer, presses his cheek to Klaus so he can speak quietly, and feel the heat of his breath where it ghosts over his skin. “He’s ready.”
“No, I’ve barely---”
Diego stops Klaus with three fingers pressed wide against his mouth, dragging his bottom lip down, and forcing him to open wide. “He’s ready.”
Diego’s not---he’s not---he can’t---
He cannot tell you how he ends up on his back. He could not, with any real accuracy, recount how Klaus lays him out on the mats. But there he is, with Klaus perched on his lap like a vicious crow. “Gogo,” he sings, curling himself forward, tables turned, roles reversed. “Have you been touching my boy?”
“ Yes ,” Diego says, through gritted teeth. “For the last two weeks. Every time you go to work.”
“I did wonder why you stopped coming, but I guess just because you didn’t come with me doesn’t mean you didn’t come at all.” He reaches between them and cups Diego with a rough hand and God . Diego sobs. “You fuck him?”
“No.” There’s a sharp, desperate edge to his voice, so out of place from five minutes ago when he was kissing sweetly his brother, and wondering why it filled him with the same perverse pleasure as blowing him in an alley. “No---”
“Why not?” Even as he asks, he’s drawing Diego’s zipper down with one hand, easing his other down, soft palms against Diego’s thighs. “Why didn’t you fuck him, Diego ?”
“You---You---You---” Diego has to close his eyes against the feral gleam in Klaus’ own gaze, it’s too much, it’s sure to burn him. Klaus grabs his face when he doesn’t answer, shakes him just so. “ First .”
Klaus puts his hand on Diego’s dick with a firm and slow grip, each finger curling around him one by one by one. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“You. First,” Diego says, through clenched teeth. “ You first .”
The gusty shudder of Klaus’ breath is the only corner of his shameless facade to reveal the truth. Nothing else betrays him, not the steady and still palm pressed firmly against Diego’s cock, not the steely, violent gleam in his eye, or the curious curl at the corner of his mouth. Diego barely has time to get his feet in order before Klaus is backing him up and up and up until he’s slamming up against the wall hard enough to rattle his teeth in his skin. He still has Diego in a hold, one hand on his face, one on his cock, but he drags the tip of his tongue - just the very tip- lightly over his cheek. “Tell. Me. Everything.” Every word is punctuated by a slow, twisting slide of his palm -hello- and Diego wants so badly to fuck up into it, can feel himself already leaking against the soft, tender inside of Klaus’ wrist. But he holds himself still and speaks through the faint muffle of his brother's palm.
Every time he’s with them - Diego thinks ‘this is the most turned on I’ve ever been’ and it’s only ever true that single time.
“He came to me.” God - but had it truly only been two weeks ago? “Asked---asked---asked---” He can’t picture the word in his mind when Klaus is milking his cock, root to tip with measured, cruel paces. He doesn’t even care that he’s slipped into stuttering again; Klaus doesn’t care. Klaus is, in these situations, unfathomably patient. “Asked me to---Help him. Get ready. For you.”
Klaus is...Klaus is prenaturally good at moving his body - there’s no reason a dry handjob under the confines of his jeans, his boxers, should feel so good. It’s more than that, though. It’s the filthy, forward press of his body mapped out across Diego’s own. It’s the warmth of his breath where it spills across Diego’s skin. It’s the way he smears Diego’s own spit across his chin, reveling in the mess. “Help him how?”
“He asked if I’d like to finger my little brother.” It sounds so much worse, spoken aloud and on Diego’s tongue, but it’s so viscerally true. Diego’s got no special interest in pretending Ben is younger than he is - he’s thirty and sixteen and that’s just that. But he does like the shape of his body, and how it fits into the curl of Diego’s own. He likes the way Ben needs him, the way Ben trusts him. He likes the way the words sound - little brother - when he has three fingers up Ben’s ass. “I said yes.”
“God - I bet he stuttered through the whole thing. I bet he was so fucking red- took forever to say it, but---” Klaus shudders and drags the hand cupping Diego’s sticky mouth down his throat. Diego holds his breath, desperate and hard. Klaus is so close, trembling so pretty against him, even as he holds Diego, throat, and cock all at once. He drags his mouth across Diego’s - not a kiss, but something filthier. “He took it real good, huh? I fucking bet he did.”
“Greedy,” Diego spits out, desperate for words, but his mouth won’t make them. He wants to tell Klaus how Ben had begged him for more, had fucked himself back, chasing Diego’s touch. How he’d come so fucking hard, shaking all over. He can’t though, and so instead he just gasps, choking, “ hungry .”
Klaus bites his cheek, shivering all over and Diego’s fucking fraught with it, coiled so tight he thinks he could die from it. He feels his balls draw up, as Klaus strokes him faster. Diego holds his breath - he’d hold his breath forever if only Klaus would make him come. “And you gave him what he needed?”
“Yes, yes---” Diego breaks, fucking forward into the curl of Klaus' fist where it’s trapped tight between them. “Fuck---yes. He’s ready, he----he fucking rides em’ now, God, fuck--- I made him ride three yesterday.”
Klaus laughs and pulls Diego’s cock out of his jeans. The faint bite of cool air kissing the head is cruel and terrible and so horribly good, Diego sees nothing but white for a very brief instant. With a jerky, sticky palm, Klaus takes his own cock out, fucking up against Diego before putting both their cocks in a single, spindly fingered palm. “ You made him?”
For a second, Diego doesn’t understand. “He wanted---”
Klaus cuts him off with a kiss and a twist of his hand where it’s wrapped tight around the both of them. “I made him.”
“What?”
“Well, maybe not made ,” Klaus admits, a little breathlessly as he rocks his hips up, catching a grind that turns Diego to syrup and sex. “I only let Benny do what he wants. I let him. I let you .” He bits Diego’s cheek again, puts his mouth on his ear. “I wondered how long it would take you to break and tell me, Gogo. I thought it would be a month, honestly. I really thought you might fuck him. Benny would have let you.”
Diego clutches at him, helpless and confused.“He wouldn't,” Diego chokes, incapable of anything else. “He's... he's yours.”
Klaus laughs. “Yeah - but I would have let him. But...you wouldn’t? I guess you're a good boy, after all.”
Good boy.
Good boy.
It’s not his kink, it’s not! But maybe it’s catching because Diego can’t stop the vicious and sudden curl of his own spine as his hips come up off the floor, body bowed. Good boy.
Maybe this is their own brand of empathy.
“He’s yours,” Diego says again, forgetting almost what they’re even talking about. Klaus has that effect.
“Yeah,” he agrees, that cocky smirk splashed across his face, pink as spilled rosé. “But so are you.” He's so sure, the way he says it. He's so confident, so certain. Diego breaks and comes, spilling wet across Klaus hand and clock, sobbing hard on a broken, choked moan. It's more of an agreement than his mouth can manage. Tongue tied or not - his body says yes . Klaus kisses his cheek, wet and smacking. “ Good boy .”
There's no come- down. Diego rides the high of his own orgasm right into a need to make Klaus come . He fucks up into Klaus' fist, oversensitive, but desperate to stay hard. He can, he will - he absolutely fucking can. “I wanted too so bad,” he admits, pushing Klaus hand away from their cocks so he can run his own come all over Klaus balls. “When he was fucking....shoving his goddamn ass in my face, taking is so pretty, fucking begging for more---” Klaus braces both his forearms on either side of Diego's head and holds his gaze with brutal intensity. Like he can see right inside of his fucking soul as he fucks up into the tight, sticky grip of Diego's fist. “I wanted too.” he chokes, lashes fluttering - he wants to look away, anywhere else, but he can't. “But I just kept thinking....”
Klaus leans in, the grind of his body never wavering. “You first.” He puts a hand on Diego’s face again and when he speaks, he’s so close their mouths brush. “God - but he’s pretty. You think I didn't know what you’d been up too - when you sent him back to me with beard-burn on his asshole? I knew. I knew before he even came to you what it would take to get him to come to you at all. All I had to do was give him a little - just a little ,” he taps his fingertip against Diego’s face. “And then take it away. I wouldn’t fuck him so he asked big brother for help. S’fucking cute . Shit.” He grins. “God - he’s perfect.”
“He wants you to fuck him,” Diego tells him, obediently. “And he wants me to fuck you. He says you need something he can’t give you.” It doesn’t feel like betraying Ben, not at all - it just feels like giving Ben a voice he couldn’t give himself. “He says you’re a switch, but he can’t top. He told me---” God- he’d told Diego a lot. “He told me what you like. The things you like.”
Klaus does kiss him then like he just can’t fucking help it. “He said all that?”
“He’s surprisingly less shy when you put a tongue up his ass,” Diego manages, with shaking levity. “You wanna know what he told me?”
There’s something empowering in the way that when Klaus answers, it’s without words. He nods, teeth clenched, the grind of his hips slowing to something staccato and less controlled.
(Klaus wants it rough, likes that edge of pain, likes surprises , likes a firm hand. Diego---is good at those things.)
He puts Klaus against the wall, face pressed against old brick and brings both his hands behind his back like a perp, like a petty criminal. He has to push up on his toes to put his cheek to Klaus’ but that’s fine if the way Klaus shakes and holds himself still says anything at all.
“He says I should just throw you down and fuck you,” Diego relays, roughly. “That you don’t want to be asked . You wanna be fucked.” He shoves roughly at Klaus pants - fuck these pants, fuck them- working them just below Klaus ass and when he slips a finger between ---- “You’re fucking wet .”
“I really want to be fucked,” Klaus admits, and Diego knows in that moment - he’ll never be in control again. Not with Klaus. Klaus will always have the upper hand. And it’s---it’s freeing, in a way. It’s violently liberating. It’s exactly what he wants. “Just like Benny said.”
“All that - just so I’d fuck you?” As far as long-cons go....it’s very Klaus. Patience .
Klaus laughs - but it’s a breathless, broken sort of sound and Diego’s certain he’s never heard Klaus so close to the edge before. “Nothing so simple, but as far as end-games go, this isn’t it.” He grabs Diego’s cock in one, spindly-fingered hand, where he still has them held behind his back. “What was it Benny said?”
Ben said a lot of things - Diego knows exactly what Klaus is asking. “You first.”
And there Klaus stands, with his ass out, wet and ready, Diego’s a hard cock in hand. They’re in the gym, for fuck's sake. It’s three in the afternoon. “You first, Diego.”
He’s gonna fuck his brother.
He’s gonna fuck his brother.
Diego bites him. His shoulder is right there, and it’s pale and smooth and Diego loves the way Klaus wears his bruises. He bites him, and moves his hand way, lining his cock up with Klaus ass again and all he has to do is push . Klaus cants his hips, makes it easy - everything about Klaus feels easy - and all Diego has to do is push.
He’s gonna fuck his brother.
There’s no coming back from that.
“Do it,” Klaus says, through his teeth.
Diego does.
If he hadn’t already come - he’d last the exact amount of time it takes for his hips to meet Klaus ass. But he has already come, and so he can enjoy it this time. He suspects Klaus planned that too, the fucker. God- but he’s fucking his brother. Diego’s fucking his brother, Klaus’ face smashed against the brick, his hands held behind his back and it has to hurt, but Klaus still pushes his ass back with every thrust.
Diego wants to hurt him.
He gets a hand in Klaus' hair, yanks his head back so far his throat goes taut and curved. He presses him belly-first into the brick and fucks up into his ass with a force that makes his own hips hurt but God - it feels good. It feels like a long time coming, and Diego wants nothing more than to spill himself as deep as he can get because Klaus will let him ---
Klaus will let him.
Diego knows what Klaus needs.
He puts his other hand around Klaus’ throat, doesn’t push or hold. The promise is enough, Klaus comes, shuddering and hard. Diego feels it, feels the clench of his ass steal the last remnants of sanity straight from his fucking brain and Diego fucks him like he wants to come, fucks him hard and fast and cruel and Klaus never really stops coming, spills pretty right up the wall, sobs and sags in Diego’s arm and it’s the most beautiful goddamn thing he’s ever seen, as he pulls his cock out, come spilling pretty down Klaus balls.
He holds Klaus up, eases them both down to the floor because standing is not an option and it’s no hardship to just hold him, and listen to the way their heaving, panting breaths fall into steady sync. He still has a hand in Klaus' hair, and Klaus turns into it, raising his head up just enough to kiss Diego’s palm. Hello.