I light another candle, trying to exorcise the dark from the room and from my soul. The ritual character of it makes me feel safe, helps me calming down. My world is pure chaos and the strict corset of this act, every meaningful move choreographed, keeps me holding on to sanity. My bedroom is lit with the flickering life of tamed fire and I shamefully force myself to look at my reflection in the large mirror. I'm naked. Bare. Without jewellery or clothes and my tattoos covered with white tape, my face clean shaven and my hair loose, I am Jeffrey Nero Hardy, the human being, without any attitude to hide behind.
I do this once or twice a year. This is the third time this year. An emergency. Memories, I've thought, I've had expelled, crushed and burned, keep coming back to me, haunting me day and night.

It was a long time ago, but the memory is painfully clear. I’ve been at a club with Adam, Jay and Matt. We danced the night away and Matt left early with some ring rat, pretty, blonde, big tits, drunk and dumb as a brick, reminding me of giving him some time before I come back to our hotel room.
I’ve watch him leave through the crowd, one arm possessively around her slender waist and tried my best to fight those demons of jealousy, that try to overtake me. He is not mine to have. Never will be. I keep telling that myself. Adam’s laughter hovers on the edge of my focus and for the first time I give in into an entirely different temptation and order a vodka-something. Soon everything drowns in a blur of sound, colours and motion and I move through it like in slow motion. Five glasses of that clear liquid take all sorrows away from me and nothing is important anymore but the moment, my mind is getting slow and numb, my movements as clumsy as my scattered, tired thoughts.
In the early morning, still drunk and tired, I sway in front of our hotel room, fumbling with the damn key card. Suddenly the door bursts open and that ring rat rushes past me, eyes adverted and blushing madly. She leaves a trail of odours behind her, cheap perfume and the heavy stench of sex. My cock twitches lazily as it recognises the scent of pussy and male musk branding her.
I stumble through the door, she graciously left open for me and stare in awe at the scene right before me. My mouth is suddenly very dry and I kick the door shut without looking back.
On his bed my brother is the most mesmerising sight, I’ve ever seen.
He lying on his back, arms folded under his head, gloriously naked. Perspiration makes his skin glisten and he’s still panting softly. His eyes are closed and his eyelashes cast frayed shadows on his cheekbones. He looks like the incarnation of sin. He’s had sex minutes ago and now stretches lazily like a cat. I just watch, watch every flex of muscle, every curve of bone, his slightly tanned skin, still pale enough to contrast sharply with his dark messy hair… His lips are still wet, looking so pouty and soft, so inviting, his face is still flushed and his features display the sweet content laziness of aftermath.
He opens his eyes and stares at me in shock.
“Fuck… Jeff!”, he screams and hastily tries to cover himself with the blanket. He didn’t hear me coming in, I’ve caught him unaware. He’s struggling with the sweaty folds of the thin covers and opens his mouth to complain about my sneakiness, but I’ve already crossed the space between the door and his bed, kicking my boots off and now I’m straddling his prone form, trapped in the twisted fabric. He looks at me in shock. As if I am the devil himself.
Maybe he’s right.
My hands touch his sweaty skin. It’s like gravity, they have fallen upon his pectorals and now they are travelling the landscape of flesh and bone, that it his body. He trembles violently, even groans softly, the sound shatters something inside me. Matt is still oversensitive from his recent orgasm and twist and wriggles madly under my touch. He is confused, but I feel his cock slowly hardening against my thigh, I feel its heat through the thin fabric of my tight animal print pants. I silence him with my lips descending violently on his and grab both his wrists and pin them forcefully to the bed, over his head, leaving him stretched out under me. He struggles weakly, but my alcohol induced power he can’t overcome. My mouth travels down his jaw, down his neck and he bucks sharply, making this odd whimpering noises of raw submission as I move on to his sculpted chest, licking and sucking his nipples.
I am patient. I’ve wanted to do this all my life and I am gonna take as much as I can, until clarity settles in my mind again. Matt squirms madly, his sated, well-fucked body complains desperately about my assault, but his mind is fogged, as are his eyes, unfocussed and filled with lust and agony. I’ve expelled every conscious thought, burned it with the fire of my hunger for him.
I devour him, licking, nibbling, tasting him from head to toe, taking in every detail, imprinting them on my memory forever. His sharply male scent, the salty taste of his sweat and his soft moans. I’ve never imagined him to be like this. Vulnerable, submissive, pliable and perfectly needy. All my life he was my hero, above everything. Confident, even aggressive, dominant, controlling himself, me and the world around him. Now he’s completely lost control under my hands and lips, showing weakness, showing the need to be subdued, to be controlled, to be claimed, to be mine…
It turns me on so bad, it makes my head spin, my heart beating so fast. Never stopping to kiss him, I struggle awkwardly with the sturdy leather belt, extracting it finally from the loops on my pants.
I take his hands and tie his wrists to the headboard with it. Matt tests the restraint, the muscles of his arms flexing perfectly, but the leather doesn’t give in. He moans, his face portraying fear and arousal.
I let him drown in pleasure, my mouth bringing him close to the point of no return over and over again, until he’s sobbing, whimpering and screaming for release.
With a choked moan, I finally stop denying him orgasm. I deep throat him clumsily, nearly choking myself and the hand, that was fondling his balls all the time slides lower and I tease a fingertip against his tightly clenched virgin hole.
His body convulses violently, his back arching, his strong thighs, that were wrapped around my ribcage, nearly breaking me in a half, the tight ring of muscle under my fingertips clenching, the feel of it and his cum down my throat make me come right into my pants without being touched.
Matt passes out from the sheer force of his release as the final spasms ebb away.

The alarm wakes him just two hours later, but we don’t talk about the night. Never. He’s back to his composed, well-mannered, confident self and acts as if nothing has ever happened.

Deliver me from evil, preserve me, Lord, from wrong;
Against the foes that gather be Thou my Helper strong;
From those who plot to hurt me and spread the treacherous snare,
Preserve me, Lord, and keep me safeguarded in Thy care.
O Lord, I have confessed Thee to be my God alone;
O hear my supplication, and be Thy mercy shown;
O God the Lord, my Saviour, my Shield amid the strife,
Let not the wicked triumph who plot against my life.
Let evil smite the evil, and cause their overthrow;
The needy and afflicted the Lord will help, I know;
Thy saints, redeemed from evil, their thanks to Thee shall give;
The righteous and the upright shall in Thy presence live.

I cling to those words, watching my lips form them, watch my face portraying agony, as my hands cut "deliver me" over and over into the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, hiding them from other eyes than mine. They are covered in blood and I can't see, what I'm doing. I feel it. One hand traces the old scars, the other drags the blade along those fading lines, carving deeply into them, opening healed wounds again, telling my flesh, what it has forgotten.
I am impure, for my thoughts are evil and full of sinful craving. The strong scent of burned incense fills the room and I inhale deeply, until I feel a little dizzy. So clean and strong. It covers the stench of male sweat radiating from me and the sharp scent of my fading arousal. Sometimes I wish, I've had the courage and the strength to cut off the centre off my sin. But I am just flesh and flesh is weak. I would probably bleed to death and commit another great sin: suicide. So I'm stuck in this traitorous body, that disgusts me so much.
I’m trembling. Tense all over. I see my muscles moving under my skin, see shadows and light dancing over my form. Endorphins rush through my veins, forging the pain into pure, untainted bliss, that is not sexual. My eyes glow with ecstasy and I feel sin bleeding out of me with those rivulets of red streaming over my pale skin.
My brother isn’t that breathtakingly pretty anymore. He didn’t age as well as I did. His hairline is receding, his features are not that delicate anymore, his body not even near to the perfection it once was.
I still want him. I want him even more since his beautiful smile doesn’t reach his eyes anymore, since he looks so lonely and lost, since the fragility, he’s been hiding so well, shimmers through his mask, since his body calls out for me, for anyone, to be desired, to be touched, to be claimed and his soul to be loved. It’s so hard not give in…, to love him just like a brother would…
My hand drops the blade, dripping with my blood, the blood we share…
Deliver me…
Deliver me from evil.