F*ED-UP FUN

"I still can't believe I agreed." After a while of maintaining his serenity, Hunter eventually broke his serene persona.

Behaving like a perturbed brother rather than a chairman of an underbelly organization that the FBI had been tracking for generations and unable to crack the web of fuckery that ensued.

He massaged the bridge of his nose and exhaled rather heavily, "I canceled dinner with Old Jacken for this."

Injecting such a topic, any underlings of theirs, or any lower-ranks, would tremble beneath the name 'Old Jacken'.

The man was loyal and had worked for the Oblonskys ever since Hunter and Hugh were just ghostly figures, yet to exist as their parents hadn't even met, arranged to be wed.

"Old Jacken? Pft," Hugh puffed air out of his cheeks, making a mockery out of their patronymic's work. "Just tell 'em you went out with a girl, he of all people would understand." Hugh casually situated, smoothening his leather jacket, adjusting his attire through the reflection of the car's window.

Hunter smirked, his prominent jewel eyes flickered under the yellowy ceiling of their Bentley Mulsanne, illuminating more depths and dimensions to its beautiful hue.

Old Jacken would understand? Sure, he would understand. Understand that Hugh might be a sociopath who is unable to feel anything beyond the practice of sadism and might be the devil incarnate himself.

No way in hell Hugh would ditch work to go off and see about a girl, the word "ditching" was never in his dictionary, anyway.

"You can't underestimate Old Jacken, Hugh. That man can read through lies better than Uncle Fizberg."

Perhaps he found confidence in talking about his men. Proud of them and their loyalty to his regime.

Uncle Fizberg was their father's cousin, although he passed away during a shooting spree in Tokyo 6 years ago, they will not speak of the unspoken.

"What do you have to worry about, Hunt? You own your body, not Old Jacken, he ain't got shit on you. People fear you! Heck, when I first met you, I thought you were scarier than Father."

Hunter chuckled. "Flattering. Oh, how I lived to hear the tales of your fear and respect for me, Hugh. So I've heard. The more you drone the more I'll be likely to do it all over again." He teased.

"Yeah? I don't know about that, I've seen everything I need to see. And I don't think doing this Sugar Partner thing will scare me even the slightest." Hugh turned over his shoulder, challenging his brother's similar eyes.

"Scared is an overstatement for me, Hugh. Even you of all people should know that. I just think it's rather...nonsensical that we are snubbing work to have our sexual desires be quenched."

"Boredom be quenched." Hugh corrected, twisting his torso around to fully confront Hunter.

The two breadth and valiant men who looked identical in the most stunning way possible began forming irate eye contact. On the backseat with their muted chauffeur, unable to eavesdrop due to his commands.

Either they were having a staring contest, or were about to brawl. Uncertain. Their brotherly affinity seemed uncertain.

"I apologize, does my point never stood a chance?" Hunter jerked an eyebrow. Hugh never failed to make Hunter react, even if they were barely visible.

"You know you love me," Hugh reached in to unbutton the collar to Hunter's silken white dress shirt, the contact seemed calm, none of them took it weirdly at all. "And you wanna give me a chance to prove my point."

"If this is a reverse psychology method, I would know." Hunter eyed Hugh's fingers in silence, until he let go.

Hugh slumped back against the headrest, "there. Now you look professional— and sexy!"

He made a triangle shape with his fingers, framing Hunter inside it. "Like you're in your element, a young, hot and rich daddy. Those sugar-babies won't be able to resist you, brother!"

"I still don't understand why I can't wear three-layered suits. Aren't sugar-daddies supposed to be unappealing filthy rich old men? It would be plausible if I were to appear like I was in its trite habitant."

"Mm, fuck no. Just be laid-back, don't try, don't even bring a gun if you have to! This is about us, Hunt, not work, not them, not anything."

Us? Them? Could it be...that these were the twins' way of bonding after so long of being apart?

Hunter snorted in disbelief, "4 years of not seeing your face and this is what you decided to drag me into? How touching. You came back with a scar on your chest, and a craving for catastrophe."

"There will be no catastrophe~" Hugh wheezed amidst his words, making a laughingstock out of Hunter's statement. Slapping his own thigh scornfully as he writhed everywhere.

"There will be fun of so much freedom! So much of 'em that it'll be a catastrophe! I don't know about you, Hunt, but I am so excited!" Hunter was persistent, Hugh scowled. "Come on, I know you are, too!"

Hunter can only smirk at this, whether he should nod along or he should neglect his brother's aerodynamic passion. "I would be a liar if I said 'I'm not.'"