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A Marvel Wonderland: Passage No. 20

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            “Drowning,” Rachel said.

            “I favor bludgeoning,” Nick said.

            “Nothing better than a good stabbing,” Mark said.

            “Cutting the brake line,” Rachel suggested.

            “Tossing a radio in his bath water,” Nick added.

            “Winding a python about his intestinal track, filling his bowels with flesh eating worms, tossing him into a black hole, making him defecate his bowels, remove his mechanical heart just by snapping your fingers.”

            The three Stubbe brothers were in their lounge playing pool when someone decided to drop in as well as toss in their two cents. On the table sat Quennel, a pool ball having hit the bottom of his shoe and ricocheted off. The male sat with one leg bent and his arm resting on the knee. His blue eyes shined in the overhanging light and his hair shimmered. He was dressed in a black, gray, and light blue patterned shirt, gray slacks, and brown shoes. Those bejeweled eyes glittered at the men but more so at Nick and Mark.

            “Hello, darlings,” Quennel said with a grin.

            Mark and Nick did not grin at the warlock. Their faces twitched into frowns and sneers as they growled.

            “Oh, no kisses, no hugs, no blow jobs,” Quennel said and watched as Rachel sat his pool stick down and moved to join some of his brothers at the bar.

            Mark and Nick sat their pool sticks on the table as well and folded their arms over their chests as they glared at Quennel.

            “I see, I’ve really done it this time, eh?” The fair male said as he climbed down from the pool table and stood between Mark and Nick. “Well, if you want me to go, I’ll just -,” Quennel lifted his hand and began to rotate his wrist to cast a teleportation spell. However, Mark and Nick seized him and forced him to lay back on the pool table.

            “Two years!” Mark growled as he leered in Quennel’s face.

            “Too long!” Nick added.

            “Boys, boys,” Quennel said as he lifted his hands and ran one down each of the sides of their faces. “It is not like you don’t know that I’m fighting a war. I am the son of the greatest practitioner of black magic in all of Globenstine. I can’t be here with you all the time. I haven’t even seen my sister and father in 15 years.”

            “What does that mean to us?” Mark asked and began to trail his fingers along Quennel’s neck.

            “We sometimes wonder if you aren’t planning on leaving us after you have won your war in Globenstine,” Nick said.

            “I assure you, I do not,” Quennel laughed. “Hell, Mickey isn’t even leaving Zelmira,” Quennel explained as he referred to Earth’s realm by its Globenstinian name. My father has this great plan to make her head of the true gray practitioners of magic. Mickey hasn’t even reached the level of magic practicing that she’s supposed to be at.”

            “You have a fiancée,” Mark said. “Sounds like you are planning on leaving us.”

            “Should we kill him, Mark?” Nick asked as he traced a finger over Quennel’s lips.

            “Is that woman going to allow you to stay on Earth?” Mark asked.

            “I doubt it,” Nick said. “I heard she’s a bitch.”

            “Feisty bitches like to be controlled behind the scenes and I’m not talking about just in bed,” Quennel said as he leaned up, kissed Mark on the lips, and then Nick. The lycans growled at the sweet gesture then bit down on his lip until it bled.

            The twins looked at each other as if contemplating. Quennel pushed up gently and they allowed him to sit up.

            “I thought you two would be happy to see me,” Quennel said and leaned in to each and sniff them. “I really don’t see why Mickey don’t like you two.”

            “She says we’re slimy,” Mark replied.

            “Yes, she said you smell like dirty bath water, Mark, and you smell like dirty mop water, Nick,” Quennel said and shrugged. “You two smell like fire, ice and satin sheets to me. A good time.”

            “Your sister is a nothing but a child,” Nick said.

            “Well, no,” Quennel said. “It could be that you two actually smell like that to her, they say that women have a stronger sense of smell and she is a witch.”

            “Or, perhaps all of her brains have seeped to her tits,” Mark said.

            “Don’t let her hear you say that,” Quennel said and started to walk to the bar but Mark grab him, picked him up and sat him on the pool table. “I just want a drink, Mark.”

            Mark nodded at Nick who went to get Quennel a drink.

            “Am I forgiven?” Quennel asked.

            “Do you think we should forgive you?” Mark asked.

            “It would be nice,” Quennel said.

            “Too bad,” Mark replied.

            “So, you two are thinking about killing your father and taking his position again?” Quennel asked.

            “Never stopped,” Mark replied.

            “Wolves,” Quennel said and then reached for his drink when Nick arrived with it. “Long Island Iced Tea, you remembered.” He took a sip from the glass, then felt Nick slide his hand up his inner thigh and Mark’s hand on his buttock.

            “Your father and sister still don’t know about us?” Mark asked.

            “No,” Quennel said. “You know how my father feels about cross species relations even if you can’t get me pregnant. Why does it even matter? I thought you two didn’t care about that.”

            “We don’t, but we like to file information for future use if the time arrives,” Nick informed.

            Quennel smirked, “You’re trying to get me kicked out of my father’s, well, Mickey’s house?”

            “You’re always welcomed here,” Nick replied and squeezed Quennel’s thigh.

            “You’re trying to cut me off from my family?” Quennel asked as he continued to sip his drink.

            “Sure,” Mark said as he began to run his fingers through Quennel’s hair.

            “What about my fiancée?” Quennel asked.

            “Who needs her?” Nick asked, “We don’t tolerate human bitch.” He said as if human bitch was a separate species.

            Quennel smirked and said, “You boys appear to have grown a tad bit possessive since I’ve been gone.”

            “Neglect will do that,” Mark said.

            “Allow me to make it up to you,” Quennel said as he pressed his lips to Mark’s who broke it after a bit and pulled away.

            “You can’t, you never will,” Mark smirked, slapped Quennel on the ass, and then moved away.

            Walking over to the couch with both Nick and Quennel following, Mark sat down with Quennel sitting next to him and Nick on the end. Quennel then took the liberty to lounge across the two with his head in Mark’s lap and his legs draped across Nick’s lap.

            “So, what trouble have found you two since I’ve been gone?” Quennel asked.

            “I don’t know about trouble, but there is always fun,” Nick said as he looked over at Mark.

            Smirking, Mark said, “There’s always fun to be got here on Abra Ave.”

            “Fun for a Stubbe usually means pain and discomfort for someone else,” Quennel said as he sipped his drink.

            “Oh, really?” Mark said, “We were just thinking about having fun with you.”

            Quennel laughed and said, “Maybe I’m not up for it tonight.”

            “Maybe I’m not asking you if you are,” Mark said as he looked down into Quennel’s delicately beautiful face.

            “Maybe I have a headache,” Quennel said as he feigned pain and touched a hand to his forehead.

            “Maybe you’re full of shit,” Nick replied.

            “And we know just how to get it out of you,” Mark added.

            Quennel laughed, “Mickey has this pretty protector. Too fucking pretty. He’s a slut. Walks like a slut, talks like a slut.”

            “Steve Rogers,” Mark said.

            “Yea, him.”

            “He can take three cocks up his ass,” Nick said.

            “Oh, dear,” Quennel cringed.

            “And didn’t tear, surprisingly, and stayed tight,” Mark informed.

            “So, this is the trouble you two have been indulging in?” Quennel asked.

            “It was one time,” Nick grinned. “We had an all-male party and he was the main course.”

            “Oooooooh,” Quennel said and then laughed. “Yes, trouble. He took on all 26 of you?”

            “Yea, after some convincing,” Mark smiled as Nick leaned over and kissed his cheek.

            Quennel shook his head at what Mark said. Mark and Nick had raped him plenty of times but of course that was by mutual request. Quennel didn’t want to think about what it would be like to be raped by them unwantedly.

            “Hey, you two over here hogging the man-gina, spread that shit around,” one of Mark and Nick’s younger brothers said as he leaned on the back of the couch.

            Reaching back, Mark seized the cub by the throat, yanked him over the couch, and tossed him on the coffee table with it collapsing under his weight. Quennel grinned, turned to Mark, and wrapped his arms around him. Well, it was apparent he meant something to the twins since they had never mentioned passing him around. Behind him on the floor, the wolf cub groaned in pain and then was silent.