The war god watched them. They didn't know.  It was their first time, so an awkwardness, even a sweetness, pervaded their actions.  Each lived for the other, tried to consume him.   His sister, watching with him, departed almost at once.  Initially, she had been amused by the forbidden scene: her brother in the act of love.  But the couple's oblivious, desperate need embarrassed even her, and she left quietly.  He stayed.

His hand, at first languorous, now moved quickly, almost violently, along the length of his cock, as he continued his jealous surveillance.  He wanted his own depravity to taint the scene before him.  When the entwined lovers found a rhythm, then followed it,  he appeared before them, cock still in hand, ready to explode.  Their anger, their disgust, fueled his fire, and he came,  bursting jolts of white heat.

His laughter sounded hollow, but they didn't notice.  He'd spoiled their union, dirtied it, and they hated him.  He needed that hate.  The only emotion he understood, briefly filling the  blankness within him.  He fought them.  Neither could match his power, although they tried.  They strove to protect each other, further enraging him.  He was an obstacle, no more.  An interruption.  A darkness to be erased, so they could return to love.  He needed that love so badly, but didn't know it.  Or didn't know how to obtain it.  With the  stronger one unconscious and bloody in the corner, he took the other.  His thrusts were lacerations; even he couldn't find pleasure.  He struggled to express pain by creating more.  When he came again, crying out--agony.

He believed at first that another god had punished him for his cruelty, stealing his rapture.  But when he tasted briny drops, not tears but blood, trickling down his face, he realized the second man had struck him.  He considered annihilation, but changed his mind.  Instead, he acted out a play of suffering, pretending the wound incapacitated him.  Performing a protest, he allowed the two men to beat him. They covered him with blows, a tattoo of rage, and he reveled in the attention.

Searching for innocence, he corrupted them.  Infected by his craving, they chose to defile him. Guilt rose, but lost to desire, as he felt his ass being spread wide, and a thick cock shoved in, filling him.  No lubrication.  He gritted his teeth against the  hurt, until the smaller man slipped beneath him to suck his tongue.  Their cocks collided, both heavy with blood, while his brother continued to pound into him.  He felt his nipples being bitten, sucked into tender points, while the cock inside his ass shoved deeper, tearing his flesh. Intense sensations overwhelmed him; desire and hate converged, and poured from him in an ecstatic release.  Catharsis.

Afterward, covered in semen and blood, the three men lay on the bed, limbs entangled, in a grievous parody of love.