Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4252122.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Total_Drama
  Relationship:
      Mike/Mal
  Character:
      Mike_(Total_Drama), Mal_(Total_Drama)
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, Choking, Stalking, Unhealthy_Relationships
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-07-02 Words: 3563
****** Monster's Teeth ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     After being separated by their parents' divorce, a pair of twins
     reunite years later with unexpected outcomes. Perhaps it would have
     been best if they were to never meet again.
Notes
     this is the worst thing ive ever written i plead with god himself to
     forgive me
Being within three miles of Mal was a torture session. His mother refused to
understand what exactly made him so intolerable, as acting like he wasn’t
demonspawn around her had become the norm. Mal had always managed to be their
mother’s favorite, for reasons that Mike was forever incapable of
understanding. He was dangerous, violent, and had no traits that made him
redeemable. How he managed to be anyone’s favorite /anything/ was an enigma in
itself. Mike had seen what he was, the parts of him that had landed him in
prison more than once. His most recent escapade to the fine grey walls of a
prison cell had been the result of attempting to eat a classmate’s ear.
Mike had not inquired about the situation, because he didn’t want to know
whether or not it was still attached to them when he did it. Unfortunately for
him, when Mal got out (due to bail from their father), their mother told him of
it all, right down to his gory testimony on the experience.
They were difficult to tell apart, until their behavior was put into question.
Mike smiled more often, and in a much less sinister way. Mal kept his shoulders
more hunched. He had a tendency of pulling at his hair and cracking his
knuckles, too, while Mike was more prone to wringing his hands and bouncing his
leg. Anyone who had known either of them long would have learned to pick up on
those signs. What was unfortunate, was that not everyone did know them well.
More times that Mike would like to think, Mal had posed as his brother for his
own reasons.
No one was that keen on buying the ‘it was my evil twin’ excuse, because it may
as well have been the oldest one in the book. Cameron had only started talking
to him again a few months ago, after having to recover extensively from
whatever Mal had done to him under Mike’s guise.
He didn’t want to know.
At a younger age, Mal was less intent on hurting Mike in any way he could. In
fact, he would do the opposite. When Scott had bullied him at age seven, Mal
was the only one who was interested in stopping it. In fact, one day he spent
recess hiding in one of the plastic tubes, sharpening a pencil far beyond what
was necessary. Then, when Scott pushed Mike to the mulch and insulted him about
the state of his parents’ relationship, Mal exacted his revenge. Or, he tried
to. He tackled Scott to the ground and tried to jam the pencil into his eye,
but he missed and it pierced the space beneath instead. It was so close, yet so
far, and Mike pulled him off before he pulled the wood and lead from Scott’s
face to try again.
“Oh my god!” Their teacher had screamed. Mal got into a lot of trouble
afterwards, but not as much as he should has, because he played them all like
an accordion. He pitched them his sob story about just wanting to take care of
Mike, because he loved him, and how he felt so guilty for what he had done to
Scott. He vowed to them to never do something like that again, and they
believed him.
Then came the incident three years later, precisely one week before their
parents’ split became official.
“You know, we’re getting married someday.” Mal told him in a very confident
tone.
“What? No, we’re not. That’s weird.” Mike replied, keeping his eyes on his
social studies homework.
“No, it’s true. Sugar told me.”
“Her family’s weird so maybe /she/ does that, but… that’s gross.”
“Wh- well you’re gross too, so I guess that it works.” He reached over the
table to take Mike’s hand, looking at him with a very serious expression. “We
can still get married, even if you’re really gross.”
“But I don’t really… /want/ to marry you.”
Mal let go of his hand, brow furrowed. As if he didn’t understand why someone
wouldn’t want to marry their brother, especially one like him. “Fine.” He said,
leaving to their then-shared room.
It was shared until the next week, when Mal’s things began disappearing into
boxes. Mike was worried, at first. He had never been without him. But recalling
the look of terror on Scott’s face as he faced Mal in the schoolyard made him
easier to not miss. Mal, on the other hand, was devastated. A great deal of
Mike’s belongings were packed in with his brother’s, because he wanted them for
‘memories’, supposedly.
Mike managed to avoid him for years, only hearing of his deeds from other
people, and receiving the backlash from his impersonations. He couldn’t avoid
him forever, though. The day came that their parents were on good enough terms
to arrange a meeting again. It would be good for them, was what he had been
told.
There he stood, terrified to be in his own home. Mike paced anxiously for hours
before the scheduled time, and right up until the minute that the knock came
upon his door. Of course, it was his job to open the door. He had to face him
again, after all those years of hearing about him like he was an animal to be
observed.
His hand quivered on the doorknob as he turned it. As soon as the door was
opened, he was met with Mal’s embrace. It was crushing, like he wanted to snap
all of his ribs at once.
Mike finally pat his back and cleared his throat, a clear indication he was
more than ready for him to let go. He did, thankfully, and Mike couldn’t have
been more glad. His dad ruffled his already wild hair, then walked straight
past him to speak to his mom again. He was surprised neither of them had found
someone else after this long, but a child-like part of him was glad.Them
talking was a good thing, he knew that, he just didn’t want to be left alone
with Mal. If he was so merciless to other people, there was no guarantee he
wouldn’t be the same to Mike.
Mal smiled at him, and he had the brief mental image of him tearing into
someone’s skin with his teeth. He leaned in close, his palm pressed to Mike’s
chest. “It’s so good to touch you again.”
An involuntary shudder ran through his body. Mike stepped back, smiling and
nodding as if he understood what that was supposed to mean. He would much
rather be listening to his parents’ conversation, or really being anywhere but
where he was. Mal started off down the hall, and out of a feeling of
obligation, Mike followed behind.
From what he was able to tell, Mal was much less surprised by the changes in
the room that had once been theirs than he was expecting. He made himself right
at home, laying down on Mike’s bed without so much as a second thought.
“This place is way less pink than it used to be.” He said, finally.
“Yeah. Mom thought it was time I change the color, but I still kind of liked
it.” Mike rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to handle the ensuing
awkwardness.
“This small talk is boring. Come here.” Mal motioned with his hand, making
space for Mike on the bed.
He was understandably hesitant to get anywhere near him again. His reputation
was not a good one when it came to getting close to others. But he would be
getting nowhere with him if he didn’t try. Mike sat down beside him, to which
Mal responded by pulling him down by his sleeve.
“I haven’t been this close to you in years.” Mal murmured, his features much
softer than they tended to be. His hand spread out on Mike’s cheek, a faint
smile forming on his lips. He got close enough to him for Mike to feel his
breath. “And I missed you.”
That would have been a relatively normal thing to say, if not for how close and
personal Mal was getting. His hand dropped from his face to smooth over his
chest again, his gaze following his fingers.
“Um-”
Mal cut him off, pressing their mouths together. He had his hand balled in
Mike’s shirt, like he was afraid he was going to slip right out of his grasp
again.
Mike was stunned, but he shouldn’t have been. He pulled away from him, his brow
furrowed in confusion. “What was that.” He asked, his voice deadpan.
His brother looked offended, as if he had just done the most normal thing in
the world and Mike was insulting him. “Surely you can put the pieces together.”
“No, I don’t understand.”
“Mike…” Mal wanted to kiss him again. It was obvious, but he was in no position
to try that again yet. “All this time, I was just waiting. Everything is just a
side concern to me.”
It had been explained to him, yet Mike still didn’t understand. All he had ever
heard that something like what had just occurred was worth being punished by
death, a completely immoral act that could never be forgiven.
“Do you ever think about me? I think about you, Mike.” His hand gripped his
shirt even tighter, as if that were possible. “I get warm when I imagine your
hands.”
“I don’t-”
“I want to feel them on me again. I missed you so much, for so long.”
It was all too much for him to handle, at least a dozen levels above what he
was capable of dealing with. Mike was equipped to reason with Zoey’s occasional
outbursts and Cameron’s panics, not the way that his stomach twisted in knots
at the way Mal was speaking to him.
His clutching hands released Mike’s shirt, only to run affectionately through
his hair. This was a side of him that had previously not existed, to Mike’s
knowledge, but even his softness was laden with a sinister, sharp edge. It
reminded him of stories of ferocious animals cuddling with their prey before
their teeth split them open.
He didn’t like that feeling, that he was here biding his time before Mal’s
unsettlingly soft behavior disappeared, and was replaced with the personality
he had been fearing in the distance for so long.
A soft hand traveled up the back of his shirt, and a push forward made clear
the goal.
“Come on, Mike.” Mal murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth. He pressed his
lips to Mike’s quivering jaw, enticing him.
Mike had no response, because speaking would mean that he would try to justify
his next move, when he already knew that there was no way he would really ever
be able to convince himself or anyone else that this was fine.
He was terrified, his body burning with both terror and the heat in his
stomach. Mike kissed him again, much to Mal’s satisfaction. His hands cupped
Mike’s face, and he kissed him with obvious inexperience but enough passion for
the both of them.
Mal’s lips parted, inviting progression that Mike knew he should back away
from. Instead, he leaned into it, slowly losing himself to the warmth of their
mouths together. His responses were welcomed, a quiet sound forming in Mal’s
throat when their tongues brushed against one another.
As it was, Mike was already in far too deep. He shouldn’t have allowed it, but
soon, he became the instigator. He switched their positions, setting himself
over Mal with his elbows beside his shoulders. His eagerness was obvious, only
rivaled by Mal’s own. He arched his hips up, trying to touch them together.
What Mike enjoyed most was that he wasn’t scared of him this way. He was a
squirmy, excited mess, not a potential serial killer in the flesh. His hand
reached between them, palm grazing over Mal’s clothed erection. It earned him a
satisfied sound, and the steady press back up against his light hand.
For a moment, Mal turned his head away, breathing heavily. “I always thought-
it would be like this. When I watched you, living your life like this would
never happen-” Mike gave pause, registering the fact that his brother had
admitted to watching him, very directly. “But it did.”
“How long have you been watching me?” Mike asked, voice hesitant. The
nervousness of his voice was detached from the movement of his hand, still
rubbing against him.
“So long.” Mal put his hand on Mike’s cheeks, looking at him with a chilling
adoration. “And the whole time, I just wanted to be with you again. But it
wasn’t the time. /Now/ is the time. You can be mine now.”
Mike wasn’t sure that he wanted to understand just what Mal was trying to
imply. He was serving as an enabler, letting Mal’s fantasy become reality with
the heavy knowledge that from his perspective, it meant something more than a
hormonal exchange.
He began to unbutton Mal’s pants, trying to forget what he was doing and
remember only how he felt. Mal’s hand stopped him, and reached up to touch him
instead. He pushed at his chest, and Mike took it as a signal to move back. Mal
smiled, seeming satisfied, and settled himself between Mike’s legs.
“Oh, Mike.” His hands brushed along his shaky thighs, landing on his zipper and
pulling it down.
“Maybe this is-”
“Please. Let me taste you, Mike.” Mal murmured the words in such a sultry way
that he was drawn back into it, sure that it wasn’t going to be a mistake. He
nodded faintly. His brother pulled down his pants, pausing to admire him before
his soft mouth took in the tip of his cock. Mike moaned, his hands in his
bedsheets. Mal looked at him as he pushed his head down. The brushing at the
back of his throat was far from pleasant, but Mike’s shuddery gasping was
enough to keep him at it. He bobbed his head, noting how his brother tried to
look at him but seemingly couldn’t. His gazes were brief, more like nervous
glances. His hands knotted in Mal’s hair, subtly pushing him further down. When
he choked, Mike groaned, before he apologized and let his hands go more slack.
Mal pulled his head back, hand moving over his warm, slicked skin. When he
tried to go back, Mike softly pushed him back.
Mal seemed upset by his refusal, until Mike leaned down to kiss him again. He
was committed to this, and he knew that there were so many better things that
he could have found passion in but this was at least /something. He made some
motion with his hands, that Mal correctly interpreted as his attempt at getting
him to lie down without saying so. Mal laid back on the pillows, looking
satisfied and calm regardless of what he was getting the both of them into.
Mike made quick work of getting his pants off, and reaching over into his
bedside table for lube. That alone had Mal’s heart racing, that innate calmness
giving way to a more natural thrill. Mike opened his mouth to speak, but Mal
didn’t hesitate, spreading his legs further open and nodding enthusiastically
at him. It was answer enough.
Mike’s now-slick finger prodded at his entrance, gently enough that he wasn’t
going to be getting anywhere. His brother mumbled encouragements, and he let
out a satisfied sigh when it breached the muscle. Mal had obviously done this
before, Mike /guessed/ to himself. Or, perhaps he just hoped somewhere inside
of him that Mal had been saving this, for him. It was sick, but he had already
accepted that.
He pressed his finger deeper into him, curling it ever so slightly when it
reached his knuckle. Mal responded with shivers and quiet gasps. Mike wanted to
hear more from him. He pushed a second finger in alongside the second, most
likely a bit too soon. The pain didn’t appear to upset Mal, as he just bit at
his lip and closed his eyes. Mike worked his fingers into him, spreading them
out. The movement made Mal moan, and he pushed back down against him. It had to
still hurt, but that was a now faroff fear. He curled the tips of his fingers
again, while he tried to make his third finger fit.
“Mike-” Mal cut himself off, gasping and arching his back. Whatever he had
intended to say was swept away in the moment as Mike thrust with fingers in and
out of him, his increasing roughness met with more noise from Mal.
Their parents might hear, and that would be hard to explain. Smoking, drinking,
all the typical teenage behaviors would be endlessly easier than this to talk
himself out of.
Mike liked the way he sounded, maybe too much, but he couldn’t risk it. He
leaned forward, cramming his fingers deeper into him while his other hand
pressed to his throat. It rested there for a moment, Mal staring at him,
grinning as if he knew exactly what was coming. And he might; knowing things he
shouldn’t always seemed to be a natural talent of his.
Mike pressed his hand down, softly at first. Mal kept smiling at him, even as
he space between Mike’s thumb and index finger dug further and further into his
throat. His own hands held tightly to Mike’s wrist, but made no effort at all
to push him away. His smile only faded to be replaced by a more lecherous
expression, mouth forming a silent sound of pleasure at the insistent prodding
of Mike’s fingers.
All too soon, he stopped. The wonderful dizziness gave way to clear vision
again, just in time to watch Mike slick up his hard dick. Mal watched him wipe
the excess on his bedsheets with a grimace, before his hands gripped at his
knees. He pushed into him, groaning. He finally got all the way in, his hands
shaky on Mal’s legs,
“Oh, Mike.” Mal gave him that adoring look again. He pulled his face down to
him, kissing his cheeks all over. “See? I told you it would be good, and-” He
gasped when Mike snapped his hips forward. “And I watched you just hoping you’d
know that, too. Through your window, just to make sure-”
It was unsettling to hear him talk that way, because Mike knew that he might
not be lying. He had lied before, mostly as a scare tactic, but this struck him
almost as if Mal was trying to coerce him into believing that watching him, /
stalking/ him, had been nothing but a romantic endeavor.
Mike tried to ignore that fear, pushing deep into his brother and letting out
quivering moans at the way his tightness felt. He gripped his hips instead,
pulling Mal back to meet him with each inward push. Mal had his hands behind
himself, gripping at the space above his head.
“Please, Mike- yes, please.” Mal was mumbling his approval, trying to maintain
what he had left of the control in the situation. He looked blissed, Mike
noted, in a way that made his heart feel like it was going just a bit too fast.
“I can’t believe you- you /watched/ me.” Mike tried to sound incredulous
instead of aroused, with only moderate success.
“I did it, because-” Mal wrapped his legs around Mike’s waist, gasping.
“Because I love you.”
Mike didn’t believe him. He didn’t know why Mal would expect him to, but it was
at least a sentimental attempt at an excuse for his behavior, both past and
present.
Mal pulled Mike against him with his legs, head tilted back to let out a noisy
groan. He gave Mike a look, one that could only be described as knowing. He
knew Mike was thinking about choking him again, and it seemed as if he /wanted/
him to.
So he did.
Mike gripped his neck with both of his hands, watching the flicker in Mal’s
eyes before he closed them. He thrust into him harder, watching him struggle to
breathe. It was a nice sight, because he looked so helpless. Absolutely weak,
as if he wasn’t the one who committed the evils between the two of them.
Perhaps, in some ways, they were much more similar than Mike would ever want to
know.
Mal’s grip with his legs grew weaker, and he appeared to be getting more lax
with each second. Mike let his throat go, watching him gasp and sputter with
new life back in his lungs. He forced his way deep inside of him and came,
moaning and struggling to keep himself held up with his shaky limbs.
His brother seemed surprised, but only in the moment before Mike’s shuddery
hand became to get him off again. He came within seconds, relishing the feeling
of being so filled by the object of his unhindered adoration.
“That was fun.” Mal murmured, kissing him. In the moments past that tight heat,
the reality of what Mike had done began to settle into him more. “But you know,
I bet they’re wondering where we are. We should go back soon.”
“Oh, uh. Yeah.” Mike agreed.
Mal smiled at him, and again Mike realized that he had kissed the mouth of a
monster.
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