[newtypeshadow] The Brothers Monroe (wild men)
Title: The Brothers Monroe
Author: newtypeshadow
Rating: R
Fandom: Original
Pairing: none
Wordcount: 339
Warnings: violence
Tate and Billy Monroe walked down the hard-packed desert road. Dust and sand coated their jeans, their chests, the t-shirts tucked into their back pockets long ago. Sun blistered their shoulders and faces. Their black boots felt like weights on their feet. But still they walked. Not trudged-walked.
Behind them, growing smaller and smaller in the distance, a black Cadillac blended with the black smoke billowing out of it. Inside, shot paralyzed and unable to move to save himself, was the man who had tried to separate them.
Morgan Wheeler, his name was. Had been, and would be again if the police ever figured out who he was; Tate had knocked most of his teeth out. It was punishment for trying to take Billy away. Take Billy away and put him in a cage.
Cages were for animals, and Billy was a man. Tate saw to it Wheeler knew who the real animal was before the smoke clogged his lungs and the fire roasted his life away. Billy might change when the moon was full, but Tate was naturally feral inside his human skin. Feral and willing to show it if you crossed him.
Wheeler had crossed him. Wheeler and his goddamn cage. And Wheeler, from the moment he marked Billy as a beast instead of a man, had been marked by Tate as dead instead of alive.
Tate's marks always stuck.
The brothers kept each others' monsters in check. It was what brothers did-protected each other. It was what the Monroe brothers did: kept each other human.
Take one away, as Wheeler had, and the other's beast would roam freely, seeking-and finding-revenge.
Tate and Billy Monroe walked down the hard-packed desert road. Dust and sand coated their clothes, and the sun blistered their skin. But they kept walking, side by side and tireless. They would get back to civilization soon, they knew, and when they did, they'd blend back into the masses and go about their business. Apart, perhaps, but always intrinsically together, the way brothers should be.
Title: Abandon (a Brothers Monroe ficlet)
Author: newtypeshadow
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Original
Pairing: Billy/Tate
Wordcount: 306
Warnings: brothercest
Notes: Written for theillusionist, who requested more of the Monroe brothers.
Sometimes Billy forgets his brother's body is more breakable than his spirit. Tate isn't worried about catching the Were from Billy-he was born a carrier, and will never be able to turn wolf or anything else. And Tate isn't worried about Billy leaving bruises on his skin or breaking bones when they have sex-Tate has the more feral personality, and he likes to bring out the wolf in Billy even when it hurts, and even when other people know that they've been fucking.
“Someday I'll be gone and you'll have to fend for yourself,” Tate says sometimes. It always scares Billy, scares him into a mental corner that some part of him roars out of, fighting, almost as dominant as Tate. He knows his brother does it on purpose-less because he worries he will die than because he likes to make Billy forget, for a time, to hold back.
Those are the times Billy wrestles Tate onto his back with all of his strength; the times Tate fights him and can't win, not that on those nights he wants to. Those are the times Billy tops, holding Tate down like a werewolf bitch with his legs spread wide, body snapping to his brother's relentless thrusts. It is only in the aftermath, only in the echoes of his dreams that Billy registers the sounds Tate made from under him: the keening need, the lustful pleas, the lascivious goading his brother ground out as he was being fucked.
So Billy feels no guilt on mornings after, even when Tate says he likes to stand at breakfast, and when showers together show garish bruises and hospital-worthy aches. Tate doesn't do it that often, and Billy lets him. They both need the abandon sometimes: Tate, from being Alpha of their solitary pack; and Billy, from pretending he is human.
Author: newtypeshadow
Rating: R
Fandom: Original
Pairing: none
Wordcount: 339
Warnings: violence
Tate and Billy Monroe walked down the hard-packed desert road. Dust and sand coated their jeans, their chests, the t-shirts tucked into their back pockets long ago. Sun blistered their shoulders and faces. Their black boots felt like weights on their feet. But still they walked. Not trudged-walked.
Behind them, growing smaller and smaller in the distance, a black Cadillac blended with the black smoke billowing out of it. Inside, shot paralyzed and unable to move to save himself, was the man who had tried to separate them.
Morgan Wheeler, his name was. Had been, and would be again if the police ever figured out who he was; Tate had knocked most of his teeth out. It was punishment for trying to take Billy away. Take Billy away and put him in a cage.
Cages were for animals, and Billy was a man. Tate saw to it Wheeler knew who the real animal was before the smoke clogged his lungs and the fire roasted his life away. Billy might change when the moon was full, but Tate was naturally feral inside his human skin. Feral and willing to show it if you crossed him.
Wheeler had crossed him. Wheeler and his goddamn cage. And Wheeler, from the moment he marked Billy as a beast instead of a man, had been marked by Tate as dead instead of alive.
Tate's marks always stuck.
The brothers kept each others' monsters in check. It was what brothers did-protected each other. It was what the Monroe brothers did: kept each other human.
Take one away, as Wheeler had, and the other's beast would roam freely, seeking-and finding-revenge.
Tate and Billy Monroe walked down the hard-packed desert road. Dust and sand coated their clothes, and the sun blistered their skin. But they kept walking, side by side and tireless. They would get back to civilization soon, they knew, and when they did, they'd blend back into the masses and go about their business. Apart, perhaps, but always intrinsically together, the way brothers should be.
Title: Abandon (a Brothers Monroe ficlet)
Author: newtypeshadow
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Original
Pairing: Billy/Tate
Wordcount: 306
Warnings: brothercest
Notes: Written for theillusionist, who requested more of the Monroe brothers.
Sometimes Billy forgets his brother's body is more breakable than his spirit. Tate isn't worried about catching the Were from Billy-he was born a carrier, and will never be able to turn wolf or anything else. And Tate isn't worried about Billy leaving bruises on his skin or breaking bones when they have sex-Tate has the more feral personality, and he likes to bring out the wolf in Billy even when it hurts, and even when other people know that they've been fucking.
“Someday I'll be gone and you'll have to fend for yourself,” Tate says sometimes. It always scares Billy, scares him into a mental corner that some part of him roars out of, fighting, almost as dominant as Tate. He knows his brother does it on purpose-less because he worries he will die than because he likes to make Billy forget, for a time, to hold back.
Those are the times Billy wrestles Tate onto his back with all of his strength; the times Tate fights him and can't win, not that on those nights he wants to. Those are the times Billy tops, holding Tate down like a werewolf bitch with his legs spread wide, body snapping to his brother's relentless thrusts. It is only in the aftermath, only in the echoes of his dreams that Billy registers the sounds Tate made from under him: the keening need, the lustful pleas, the lascivious goading his brother ground out as he was being fucked.
So Billy feels no guilt on mornings after, even when Tate says he likes to stand at breakfast, and when showers together show garish bruises and hospital-worthy aches. Tate doesn't do it that often, and Billy lets him. They both need the abandon sometimes: Tate, from being Alpha of their solitary pack; and Billy, from pretending he is human.