Chapter Text
When Joshua rose the next morning, he faced a similar problem as he did when he went to rest—a queer, restless, fluttering feeling in his stomach. After plodding back to his chambers, he had lied in bed, and it had taken him ages to fall asleep. The heat still clung to him, the strange feeling in his stomach gnawing at him and his heart still hammering in his chest.
It felt like every moment with Clive left him with even more questions. On why he felt this way, why his body reacted so to his brother, and questions of Clive’s reactions, too.
Joshua felt his cheeks begin to redden as he remembered last night. He had felt something pressing to him, hot and hard against his backside, but he was too embarrassed at his ignorance to ask Clive why he was like that. He didn’t want his brother to think him a child.
The more he felt it though, the more the strange, queasy, excited feeling in his belly grew. He had been unbearably hot, and the thoughts he often had of Clive would not leave him. How he wished for him to hold him—though Clive often did, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t like how he wanted. He wanted him to kiss him, to spend all of his time with Joshua, to give it to no one else. The silly, childish thoughts plagued him, and feeling that pressure against his rear had muddled his mind enough that he had foolishly actually asked for what he had wanted. But oh, he was so glad he did.
He had never felt such excitement, practically shaking in Clive’s arms as he touched him so gently. Such pleasure he had never known, and somehow it felt so good, so right. He felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, in his brother’s embrace.
But still he didn’t exactly know why he felt this way, why his body did, or what had been happening with Clive’s own body. And so he intended to do what he always did when lacking information—he would turn to his books. After his daily lessons, he’d head to the library to get his answers.
As he walked from his last lesson, he spied Clive on his way to the sparring grounds, and again the flutter began in his belly. He only saw him a moment, briefly as he passed between stalls, but still his stomach twisted. Clive looked so unbearably handsome, his hair slicked back and a sword strapped to his back. Joshua sighed, and worried his bottom lip between his teeth. He made haste.
The library was empty, and he felt thankful, as if he was about to do something forbidden. Amber hued afternoon light filtered through the glazed stained glass windows lazily, warming Joshua’s skin as he began to peek through the shelves. He started first on tomes of anatomical knowledge, to find out if something was wrong with his body or not.
He flipped through thick pages of vellum, taking in hand illustrated diagrams of the human body. He found nothing on the strange sensation in his stomach, but he did find curious information on Clive’s differing anatomy.
He found words such as arousal, and engorged with blood rather intimidating. But according to the texts, it seemed a normal thing, a part of being an adult. What the words implied, rather than said directly, was much more interesting to Joshua. That it was a reaction, to something. Or someone. He felt himself flush. Surely, it had to be to him…? What else was there to react to, at that moment? Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.
The more he thought of it, the larger the queasy gnawing at his stomach grew, into a nervous excitement. The idea that Clive found him arousing had his heart pounding. Did Clive have these strange feelings about him, too? He had to know more. Determination set in. If the library did not have the information on the feeling in his stomach, then he’d have to ask someone. Clive was out of the question, of course. He would have to ask his second best friend. He hopped off his chair, and hurried in search of her.
Joshua made his way to the east wing in search of Jill, and found her at her Lady’s lessons in the solar overlooking the gardens. He peaked around the door frame, unsure if he should interrupt. Several ladies, including Jill, were seated around a circle practicing their needlework.
“Joshua,” Jill called pleasantly.
Joshua jumped. Jill hadn’t even looked up from her craft and somehow knew he was there. She looked up, and then laughed at his wide eyes.
“I know your footsteps, silly.” She set her needlework down and patted the empty space on the plush sofa she was seated on. “Would you like to come in?”
He nodded, hurrying in and pushing himself onto the cushions. He clasped his hands politely by his knees, idly swaying his legs, unsure what to do with himself.
“Want to try?”
“Oh—I wouldn’t want to ruin your work.”
“Not at all. I welcome your artistic input.” She pressed her needle into his fingers.
He tried his best, really, but he only knew the basic sewing that Jill had taught him. The design Jill was embroidering was much more elaborate, with filigree spreading the entire border of the fabric, pulled taut by a hoop. The center was filled with delicate white flowers, too precise for Joshua’s young, clumsy fingers.
“I—oh, this doesn’t look good,” he mumbled. The flowers were becoming deformed and wiry with his stitches.
Jill took the needlework back and looked over it with a critical eye.
“Hmm—” She squinted at it for a long while, Joshua’s anticipation at her assessment growing.
“It’s perfect.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Joshua felt warm from the praise, regardless of how unearned it was.
Joshua gathered his courage while Jill admired his shabby needlework. “Jill...could I borrow you for a bit? I had wanted to ask you something. If—if you are not too busy.”
She stood up from the sofa, smoothing out her skirts. “Of course. Shall we?”
Joshua pushed off the sofa, and offered his arm for Jill to take. She giggled at his courtesy, doing a little curtsy. They began to make their way to the gardens. It was oddly quiet around the castle—most likely the majority of the men were in the training yard, and the servants in the kitchens, preparing dinner. Joshua was glad of it—there were less people to hear him and Jill speak.
They sat on a stone wall against the flowers. Before he had a chance to speak, Jill was wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling Joshua into her lap. She let out a big sigh.
“It’s been far too long since we’ve talked.” She rubbed her chin into his hair. “Clive steals all of your time.” She spoke mournfully, voice full of dramatics but muffled by his hair. Joshua giggled.
Jill petted his curls. “Come and see me too, won’t you? I’ll teach you embroidery. You could make a favor for Clive, I’m sure he would like that. He could wear it in his tourneys.” Joshua reddened so quickly that Jill burst out laughing, hands wrapping around his middle even tighter.
“Or not! You can make whatever you like,” She wiped a mirthful tear from her eye, and idly began to pet his belly, as if in apology.
Joshua rubbed at his hot cheeks, but smiled. “I would like that.” Then he scrunched his nose. “As long as you don’t make me try on your old dresses again.” He shuddered to think of it, dressed like he was Jill’s doll—some of the dresses even had bodices. He’d been near fainting in them. Clive’s eyes had been as big as saucers when he’d realized the little lady was actually his own brother.
Jill sighed. “I suppose. But you look so sweet in them.”
“Silly, more like.” Joshua was finding himself lulled by the circular motion Jill was rubbing into his stomach. He was going to forget why he was here. He forced himself to stir.
“Jill, could I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she hummed, still petting his belly.
“When you’ve looked at someone, have you ever felt…strange?”
“Strange?” Jill pulled back a bit, and stopped her motions. “Like what?”
Joshua nervously pressed his lips together. “Like—like you’re excited. But also worried. And you also feel like you might be sick.” He was beginning to regret this a bit. How terribly embarrassing it was, to explain this.
“Oh,” Jill cooed, “It sounds like someone’s in love.” She wrapped her arms around his middle tighter, and rubbed her face against his hair while giggling.
“Love?” It felt like his cheeks were never not going to be red again. “But how do you know?
“Well, according to the stories, you get butterflies in your stomach. You get flustered, but excited, and you want to see them desperately, like it’s painful to be apart. Is that anything like you’re feeling?”
“Yes…” Joshua murmured, brows furrowing in thought. Then he blanched. “But—but this isn’t about me! I swear it.”
Jill frowned. “Who, then?” She slid him gingerly from her lap, a grimace on her face. “This isn’t about Clive and I, is it?”
”No?” It was Joshua’s turn to frown.
Jill huffed. “Someone’s put you up to this, haven’t they?” She pushed off the low stone wall and smoothed out her dress.
“Oh—how I tire of it! ‘When will you two be wed?’, they all pester me. It’s driving me mad. I ought to tell Clive he’s a brute,” she ground out, and leveled a sour look at him. Joshua was stunned. A brute? But Clive was gentle, kind, and brave. Always ever the gentleman, to anybody, including Jill. But the idea of Jill telling poor unsuspecting Clive that did make him giggle.
She sighed, and peered back towards the castle. “I ought to get back to my lessons. I’ve been gone too long.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. I love talking with you.” Jill turned back towards the hall, then called over her shoulder.
“Good luck with your sweetheart! Bye, Joshua!” Her skirts whirled as she raced back to her lessons, and Joshua was so, so thankful there was nobody nearby to hear.
Now that he had his information, it was time to put it to the test, which he needed Clive for. Joshua made his way to the sparring ring, hoping that Clive was nearby doing his drills, and was pleased to see he was in the ring himself, along with Sir Tyler. Joshua seated himself on a crate near the fencing and watched.
It seemed they had been going at it a while, Clive’s chest heaving from exertion. His eyes flickered up and met Joshua’s gaze. He gave Joshua a grin, and even a wave with his left hand as he parried a blow from Sir Tyler with his sword. He winked at him, and went back at it.
Clive’s movements picked up, suddenly driving Sir Tyler back relentlessly. Clive feinted as if to strike at Sir Tyler’s middle, and as he made to block it, instead he hooked his foot under Sir Tyler’s ankle, pulling his foot out from under him and almost sending him tumbling, though he stood his ground. As he tried to right his footing, Clive moved with a flourish, his practice blade inches from Sir Tyler’s throat. Joshua giggled—Clive was showing off, trying to impress him. Joshua’s stomach fluttered, but he felt less nervous from it, now.
“I yield.” Sir Tyler groaned, clearly exhausted from a long row. Clive helped him to his feet, and clapped him on the back before making his way to Joshua.
Joshua clapped for him. “Impressive!”
Clive laughed, his cheeks a bit pink. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I live to serve.” He gave him a little bow, and Joshua giggled.
He took Clive in—he was clearly tired, still puffing, and slick with sweat. He pushed his damp bangs out of his face and leaned against the fencing, taking out a handkerchief to dab at his forehead. It wasn’t nearly as hot as yesterday, but the afternoon sun was still fairly sweltering.
“Are you tired?” Joshua gave him a once over. “Or hurt? I can heal you.”
Clive huffed a laugh through his nose. “Just nicks and bruises, nothing to waste the Phoenix’s power on.” He sagged a little more on the wooden fencing. “I am a bit tired, though.”
Joshua worried his fingers at the hem of his lacy smock. “Then perhaps you’d like to turn in early, then? We could take supper to your room.” If he could convince the kitchens to give it to him, that is—it shouldn’t be too difficult, as the staff loved him, even if Mother was always angry at him for being in there.
“If—if you want to, of course,” he added a bit belatedly, cheeks growing pink.
Clive smiled, then pinched Joshua’s cheek gently. “I’d like that.” He paused, then pressed the neckline of his shirt to his nose, and Joshua heard him sniffing. “I’ll take a bath early, then.” He ruffled Joshua’s hair. “See you in a bit.”
As Clive left, Joshua almost stopped him to ask if he could join the bath as well. It had been a while since they had bathed together. But the thought of Clive naked and glistening with water had his stomach twisting terribly—it was probably too much for him to handle. Maybe next time.
He made his way to the kitchens. It was quite busy, as it was near supper time, and Joshua was almost knocked into the wall by bustling staff.
“Your Grace!” The elderly woman who ran the kitchens croaked. “Be careful, or you’re like to end up in the stew as well. What brings you here?”
The woman was grey and shriveled, and though she acted like she was made of stone, Joshua knew her to be soft underneath. Especially to him.
He put on his best pleading face and asked for something to be sent up to Clive’s room for the both of them. The woman tutted—Mother wouldn’t like him skipping on dinner in the hall. Joshua made his eyes water, and the woman sighed in defeat, giving his cheeks a little pinch. He grinned cheekily, giving her a sudden hug and then he ran from the kitchens.
He didn’t make it very far before he began to sputter and cough. In his excitement he had forgotten his own body’s weakness. He stopped and held a hand to his chest, taking in deep breaths, interrupted by the occasional trembling cough. This wouldn’t do—he wouldn’t allow this to ruin his time with Clive, not when it has so many times before. This time, he took measured steps to Clive’s room, not letting his excitement get the better of him.
By the time he had arrived at Clive’s room, it was dark. The food was already there, set outside his door. On the tray sat thinly sliced meats, soft cheeses, toasted bread with saucers of oil and honey for dipping, and two glasses of sweet wine, watered down and chilled with ice from crystals. Joshua was pleased, and Clive would certainly be—he’d eat anything after all, so that was easy. Joshua picked up the tray and held it between one hand and his hip, using the other to open the door. Now he only had to wait for Clive.
He wouldn’t have to wait for long, it turned out, as he was already inside his room. The servants must have brought the tray after he’d arrived. Joshua froze, not expecting him. He was turned away from the door, still wet from his bath, pulling up his trousers onto his lean hips. Joshua’s throat felt dry, and he said nothing as he watched Clive dress, who seemingly had not heard him enter. Only once he had pulled his shirt over his head had Joshua come to his senses.
“I’ve brought—” Joshua winced as his voice cracked awkwardly. “I brought food.”
Clive turned and smiled, oblivious to Joshua’s leering. “Come in, don’t just stand in the doorway.”
Clive closed the door with his foot as he pressed a hand into the small of Joshua’s back, ushering him in. He took the tray from Joshua and set it on his bed, and then the drinks on his nearby dresser. Clive flopped down with a sigh, legs still on the floor, and stared up at the ceiling—he did look tired. Joshua shuffled from foot to foot awkwardly, until he saw Clive lift a hand. He sat flat on the bed, not looking up towards him, and crooked a finger at his brother in a ‘come hither’ motion. Joshua toed off his shoes and trotted over.
Joshua sat himself crisscrossed sideways between Clive’s legs, facing the tray that Clive had to his right and his back to Clive’s other leg. He started in on the meats—those were his favorite. Clive was still just lying there, breathing contently, so Joshua held a slice of meat up to his lips. Clive took the piece of meat with his mouth, licking Joshua’s fingers in the process. He giggled, and the fluttering in his stomach began, though he found it somewhat pleasant this time. His fingers tingled where Clive had licked them, wet from his saliva. Joshua idly stuck them in his mouth and sucked off the spit. He paused to see if Clive had seen, but he had his eyes closed.
He wiped his fingers on his smock and then reached for a slice of toasted bread, drizzling it with honey before pressing it to Clive’s mouth. Since this piece was bigger, he took it from Joshua’s hands with his fingers and began to chew.
“I could get used to this.” Clive sighed, mouth still full.
“Better not,” Joshua laughed lightly. “I don’t think it would be proper for an Archduke to be feeding his First Shield at supper.” Much to Joshua’s disappointment—he could get used to this, too.
“That’s a shame.” Clive had his eyes closed again. Joshua wondered if he would fall asleep. He gave him a poke on the thigh, but he did not stir. He really should have dinner, though.
“Want to drink?” Joshua asked.
“Mhm,” Clive mumbled.
Joshua paused—he wasn’t quite sure how he’d get it to Clive without it spilling. He thought for a moment before an idea came to him, making him turn a bit pink. He worked quickly, before he lost his nerve. He picked up the sweet summer wine and drank a good mouthful, holding it in instead of swallowing.
He crawled up to Clive’s chest, and tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, not wanting to startle him and spill wine everywhere. Clive cracked open an eye and looked at him quizzically. Joshua cupped his chin in his small hand, trying to mimic Clive’s movements from last night, and pressed his lips to his brother’s, trickling the wine into his mouth. Clive’s mouth parted under his, and he drank the wine eagerly, moaning a soft sound. Mouth empty, Joshua lifted from him with a wet pop.
“It’s sweet.” Clive murmured, licking a stray droplet from his own lip. “Should you even be drinking this?” Joshua went from pleasantly warm and growing excited to annoyed.
“It’s watered down,” he puffed. “Father lets me have a glass of wine at feasts anyway.” That was the real stuff—just the one glass would make Joshua’s head swim, but he didn’t tell anyone, not wanting to look childish.
Clive hummed idly, and again closed his eyes. His arms were leaned back, hands resting behind his head. “You know,” he began, voice low, “I find I have quite the thirst.”
Joshua reached again for the wine, a bit too excitedly and almost knocked it over. He nervously looked to Clive, but he hadn’t reacted to his clumsiness. Again he filled his mouth with the sweet, honeyed drink, and brought it to his brother’s lips. At the press of Joshua’s mouth Clive cupped his cheeks, drinking deep, eyes still closed. Even once he had drained all the wine, he kept their mouths together, tongue chasing each remaining droplet.
Joshua groaned into Clive’s mouth at the hot, wet sensation of Clive’s tongue. He pulled back so he could suck on Clive’s bottom lip, wet and full and tasting of summer. Clive huffed a laugh through his nose and returned the favor, nipping at Joshua’s.
His heart was racing, the blood rushing to his face and to his groin. Jill’s probably right, he thought, looking at Clive through his downy lashes. Clive’s eyes were half-lidded, and he was panting lightly. He made no move, seeming to be waiting for Joshua’s reaction. Deciding honesty was best, Joshua rolled his hips into Clive’s, as if to say ‘me too’. He was thrilled when his own hardness met Clive’s. I did that to him, me!, he wanted to shout.
“Joshua—” Clive groaned. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”
Joshua nodded. “I read about it in a book.”
At that Clive started laughing, and Joshua flushed, not sure why was being made fun of. His laughter was jostling Joshua on his chest, and he made to leave, before Clive pulled him back in with his arms, holding him at the small of his back.
“Ah—” Clive wiped a tear of laughter from his eye. “The wine is sweet, but you’re sweeter.” Clive ducked his head and began nosing along Joshua’s neck, making his breath hitch. “I want you to tell me what you want.”
“I want—” It was terribly difficult to think when Clive was pressing his lips to Joshua’s throat. “I want you to touch me.”
Clive hummed, the vibration making Joshua shiver. “How do you want me to touch you?”
“Anyway. Every way.” He didn’t really know specifically—he just wanted Clive. Why was he asking, and not doing?
“Like this?” Clive pressed a chaste kiss to Joshua’s mouth. He nodded quickly.
“What about this?” Clive rolled his hips up into Joshua now, the friction causing him to gasp. The bulge tenting his trousers was much larger than Joshua’s, and something about that made him feel dizzy. He wanted to see underneath.
“Yes,” he whimpered out. “Please. Just—anything. You can do anything to me.” Joshua was going to lose his mind if Clive didn’t start touching him in earnest.
Clive paused, and quirked a brow at him. “...Anything? Really?”
“Yes, Clive, please—” He was cut off by his own surprised squeak, when Clive had reached behind Joshua and cupped his ass. Joshua arched like a cat being scratched, and Clive gave him an eager grin.
“In earnest, then.” Clive’s excitement was very infectious, and Joshua found himself nodding rapidly again, though he didn’t quite know what Clive intended to do.
Clive leaned in for a kiss and Joshua met it eagerly in kind, breath hitching as Clive kept pawing at his backside, massaging the flesh in his big palms. Joshua couldn’t help the stutter of his hips snapping forward, to grind against Clive’s thigh. Clive anchored him with his hands and began to rock him against his own leg with the hands on his ass.
Joshua broke their kiss, for he needed the air, gasping wetly against Clive’s chest at the friction of his cock trapped between their clothes and Clive’s wandering, deft fingers. The fingers trailed under his smock to knead his flesh through his stockings. His back arched as Clive spread his cheeks and he felt a dull pressure against his hole even through the fabric, most likely Clive’s finger.
“Ah—uhm—” Joshua tried to get a question out, but he was tongue tied, especially when Clive was still rocking him against his body. He wasn’t quite sure what Clive was doing. The finger at his hole moved in lazy circles, and he squeaked in surprise.
Clive removed a hand to bring it up Joshua’s chin, forcing his mouth towards his own for a light, sweet kiss. Suddenly Clive broke apart to kiss him on the cheek, then the other—and then on the tip of his nose. Clive grinned at him brightly.
“Hold on—I have something.” Clive slid Joshua from his lap and went to his bedside draw, rummaging around.
Joshua sat and breathed shakily, trying to get his bearings but failing, because his head was filled with only Clive—his scent, his taste, the warmth of his hands on his body. The gentleness of which he touched him, and teased such pleasure out of Joshua. He felt a bit dizzy. His small hand clutched to his chest, attempting to slow the staccato of his heart, but it was futile, because within moments his brother was in his sight again, sending it fluttering.
Clive had a small amber bottle in his hand, about the size of Joshua’s palm. A thick liquid rolled lazily inside. He looked quite proud, presenting it.
“What’s this?”
“It’s ah—well actually, it’s for my hair,” Clive seemed a bit bashful admitting it. Joshua had always wondered how he got it styled like that—it looked so very dashing and handsome, much better than Joshua’s own unruly mop. But that also seemed hardly relevant, at the moment.
“But we can use it for something else. Something much better.”
Clive uncorked the bottle. Joshua leaned in before Clive could continue whatever it was he was doing. Clive seemed to know what he wanted—he held the bottle up for Joshua to sniff the contents. Joshua inhaled—and he could almost squeal, because it smelled like Clive, this is what he always smelled of. Warm, smokey and musky. He inhaled again deeply, and couldn’t help the joyful giggle he let out.
“Like that, do you?” Clive laughed, a little surprised. Joshua nodded happily. He was absolutely going to come in here when Clive wasn’t around, to take this for his own. Surely, Clive could get another—Joshua wanted a bottle of Clive’s scent all to himself. The only smell missing was the salt of Clive’s sweat when he had been hard at work at his Shield training, which Joshua also loved. He’d have to get that scent from the source, though he hardly needed any excuse to go and bother Clive at his training.
“I suppose that’s good. It wouldn’t do for you to dislike it.” Clive brought the bottle up to his own nose to smell it, but didn’t seem to have much of a reaction. He popped cork back into the bottle, and idly rolled the small vial in his hands.
“Joshua, do you have any idea what I might be planning for this?”
Joshua thought for a moment. He supposed it would be good for a massage, but that didn’t seem right. And Clive probably wasn’t going to style his hair. He shook his head.
Clive leaned back onto the pillows, and curled a finger towards Joshua to beckon to him. Joshua scurried to him, and Clive pulled him onto his midsection by his waist, keeping his hands on the small of his back. Like this, their clothed cocks were pressed together, and Clive could probably feel the pounding of Joshua’s heart through his delicate chest.
Clive reached again for his rear, smoothing his hands down the pert flesh. “It’s so I don’t hurt you. When I’m inside.” Joshua didn’t quite understand, but Clive could never hurt him.
“Alright,” Joshua said, nervousness licking at the inside of his belly. Clive hadn’t really asked him a question or permission for anything, but he felt the need to give his approval anyway. Clive smiled at him, sending his tummy fluttering.
They laid like that for a while, Clive looking behind him to his rear, kneading his flesh with interest, until Joshua couldn’t help it anymore, the pressure on his cock unbearable, and he rocked his hips. He looked up to Clive, begging without words for a kiss. Clive obliged, still tasting of sweet wine.
He let Joshua stumble his way through leading their kiss while he lifted the hem of Joshua’s lacy smock up. With one hand on Joshua to lift him and the other on his shift, Clive lifted it over Joshua’s head. He shivered, goose flesh dimpling his skin at the temperature change.
Joshua lifted his hips to allow Clive to peel off his thin summer stockings, and he paused at the reveal of his soft perky backside—for Joshua was wearing no smallclothes. He blushed, smothering his face in the crook of Clive’s neck. It was incredibly indecent behavior on his part, but well—he came here to test his theories. And Joshua was ever an optimist.
Clive sucked in a breath. “Joshua.” He pressed his face further into his brother’s neck, refusing to meet his gaze. Clive huffed out a giddy sort of laughter.
“Did you go through the day without your smallclothes? Or did you change later?” When Joshua peeked up, Clive was grinning at him, eyes half-lidded.
“I took them off in the morning,” Joshua murmured. Why did he have to ask? It was a little embarrassing. Was he making fun of him? They would only get in the way, anyhow. He squirmed, restless at the scrutiny.
“Bare all day, except for your stockings…” Though sheer as they were, the stockings would do little to cover his shame had the breeze decided to lift up Joshua’s smock for all to see.
“Even through your lessons.” Clive clicked his tongue. “Naughty boy.”
Joshua hadn’t thought he’d be scolded. “But—!”
At his worry Clive laughed, and pressed a dry kiss to Joshua’s cheek. “I’m only teasing. I’m really pleased.” Clive nuzzled into his neck and Joshua heard him inhale, and again his hands cupped his rear. Joshua sucked in a breath—it felt different, on bare skin, but it felt good. Clive’s warm, calloused palms would feel good anywhere on him. He melted into the touch, pliant to his brother’s fondling.
“I’m glad you want this, too,” Clive whispered into his ear.
Joshua did, very badly, though he didn’t quite know what he wanted. He thought of the anatomical texts he read, but those had mostly detailed changes of puberty and of making children, which he did know he and Clive couldn’t do. But all he knew was that it was something more intimate, that felt good, that was just for them. How could he not want something that felt good and was a gift from Clive?
Clive sat fondling him, but it wasn’t enough. Joshua was getting impatient, though he didn’t know what he was asking for. He pressed his face into Clive’s chest fully, smothering himself with his brother and gave a pitiful whine. If Clive wasn’t going to hurry up and take care of his needs, Joshua would have to. He humped his bare cock against Clive’s leg, every little sound he made muffled by Clive’s lean chest. The more he moved, the more the pressure in his belly grew, the pleasure building, and he chased it blindly.
“Clive,” he cried out. “Clive.”
Clive hadn’t even said or done anything. Head limp at his chest, Joshua stole a peak up, still rocking his hips. His brother was watching him entranced, his face aglow in pink and his eyes half lidded as he bit a finger idly and watched the show.
He brought one hand to curve around Joshua’s hip and guide his movements, and the other to thread through his hair.
“How are you feeling?”
“Good,” Joshua uttered. That was a bit of an understatement, but he was struggling to speak, his tongue feeling heavy and clumsy. It felt even better with Clive’s hand guiding him, the sensation heightened.
Clive hummed, scraping his nails lightly on Joshua’s scalp with one hand and rocking Joshua faster with the other, now entirely controlling the pace. Joshua panted on Clive’s chest, totally limp and open mouthed as drool began to dampen Clive’s shirt. Heat pooled in his belly, and he pitched his eyes shut as he yielded himself over to it. And then Clive stopped moving him entirely.
Joshua swallowed down his accumulating saliva breathily, then looked up at Clive with wide eyes.
“How was that?” Clive said, his fingers still moving through his curls. Joshua still hadn’t caught his breath, and his throat had gone dry from spilling his saliva on Clive. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, and tried to wipe Clive’s chest too, but he didn’t look very concerned about the spit. He smiled at Joshua, looking fond, and knowing.
“Felt really good,” Joshua choked out. “Could you touch me more?” He was still so hot, his little cock straining against his big brother pitifully. In the textbooks he had read, it described blood engorging the penis, and friction was required until it expelled some sort of milky mucus—only then would the swelling go down. Which all sounded rather horrifying to Joshua, but in practice, he was enjoying himself thoroughly. Though, his cock still stood erect, and there was no milky liquid to be seen. Clearly, he was doing something wrong. He wriggled his hips, desperate.
“Please, Brother,” he said, knowing he sounded childish. His hips still jerked and twitched in the same motion as before without him even meaning to. He needed to be touched, and Clive’s touch felt so much better.
“This is good—” Clive rocked him against his thigh, and Joshua moaned. “But I can show you better. Want to try?”
Joshua nodded—anything, he would take anything Clive would give him.
“Lay on your front.” Joshua excitedly did as he was told, taking Clive’s place on the bed while he sat up on the edge. Joshua peaked over his shoulder to stare at his brother.
Clive’s hands went to the hem of his shirt. Joshua grimaced when he saw his own drool spots, and then his mouth went dry. His belly twisted —handsome , so very handsome his brother was, that it filled his stomach with butterflies and made his toes curl and his cheeks heat.
Founder, Clive had really grown. His First Shield was nearly a man grown, and it showed. Light musculature was clinging to his long frame, taut and lean where Joshua was embarrassingly still soft and pudgy. It really wasn’t fair—sometimes he wished he could ask Clive to wait for him, to stop growing so quickly so he could catch up.
Joshua’s breath hitched as his eyes lowered to Clive’s navel. Dark wispy hair trailed down from his belly button to disappear under his breeches, the bulge of his erection straining against them. He wanted very much to see what was underneath, and he hoped Clive would indulge him. The sight and thought of his brother’s pleasure, his reaction to him, sent heat through Joshua, and he couldn’t help but rut against the sheets impatiently.
Clive turned to him, holding his precious amber bottle in his hands. He smiled down at Joshua, and rolled it back and forth vigorously, as if to heat it. Once satisfied, he settled behind his brother, nudging his knees apart with his own. Joshua watched from over his shoulder, anticipation growing.
“The men in the yard,” Clive said, coating his fingers in the thick oil, “Say there is nothing like it. That it’s wet, and tight, and that you see stars.” Could Joshua do that for Clive, make him see stars? He wanted to try. He wriggled his hips a bit, to feel the sheets on his cock, desperate for any touch.
Joshua squeaked when suddenly his cheeks were being spread apart, his skin going slick with Clive’s oiled hands. Clive nudged his knees apart even further, putting Joshua’s hole on display. He fidgeted, nervous.
“U-um, I—oh!” A slick finger rubbed insistently against his hole in lazy circles, the pressure gradually increasing. Joshua’s cock twitched in interest at the new, strange sensation.
“Let me know if it hurts. Just kick me.” The mental image made Joshua want to laugh, but the sound broke off into a high sound as Clive opened his body. Joshua desperately grabbed a pillow to clutch to, jamming it halfway under him, while his stomach lurched. It didn’t hurt—but his belly was fluttering nervously all the same. His brother was breaching him, in a careful deliberate motion, pausing to gauge Joshua’s reaction. The intimacy of the situation crept up on Joshua, and hugged the pillow to himself as his ears grew redder.
“How is it? Any pain?” Clive had leaned in so close to look that Joshua could feel his breaths on his bottom. He had the look of curiosity to him, like a scholar hard at work.
“N-no,” Joshua stuttered out. He thought it felt pretty good, the pressure of his brother inside him, but maybe any touch from Clive would feel good. He wouldn’t mind just laying like this for a while, feeling Clive’s finger inside him, if it wasn’t for the nagging pressure of his cock flushed and rigid underneath him.
The finger in him pressed in ever slowly. It felt good when it was deeper, and moved in a different direction then just straight in, so Joshua wiggled his hips to chase the sensation. He felt Clive’s puff of laughter on his behind.
“Hold still, you. Have patience and let me work.”
Joshua wanted to give himself over to instinct, and rock back on Clive and drive his hips into the bed because it felt good— but Clive had always praised him for being so well behaved, and he loved Clive’s praises. So, he forced himself to still his hips.
Clive rewarded him with a swirl of his finger and Joshua’s toes curled. The digit withdrew and entered and curled over and over, until Joshua’s body gave way and he melted into the feather mattress. Clive withdrew his finger back to his rim and pulled, testing the stretch, and made a pleased sound.
Joshua looked back over his shoulder, confused at the stop. A string of saliva followed the movement—Founder, when had he started drooling again?
“Tell me, if you get close,” said Clive. Close? Before Joshua could ask what he meant, Clive’s fist encircled the entirety of Joshua’s cock, and he started easing two fingers inside him.
Joshua arched . “Clive. Oh, Clive—” Joshua mouthed against his pillow. He didn’t really understand how Clive had meant that this would feel incredible for himself, making Clive see stars, when Joshua was the one becoming undone. The hand finally on his cock made him want to cry, and Clive gave him slow, languid pumps. But it was the fingers inside him that Joshua could really only focus on. The stretch burned, but he found himself eagerly grinding back anyway regardless, unable to heed proper caution when his brother was coaxing out a side of him he had never felt before. Maybe he had drunk too much of the diluted wine—surely, he had to be drunk, something had to be making him feel and act this way.
“You’re doing so well.” Clive pressed a kiss to the swell of his bottom, and Joshua could feel his lips curled into a smile, soft and gentle. He pressed his fingers flush against Joshua, all the way to the knuckle. His hand left Joshua’s prick and Joshua let out a mournful sound, thrusting against air, though the fingers continued to piston inside him. Joshua heard a pop—he peeked over his shoulder, and Clive had the oil bottle in his free hand and the cork in his mouth, which he promptly spat out. Clive tilted the contents onto Joshua’s hole, and he jumped as he felt the cool oil drizzle into him and run down his taint to drip onto his soft sack.
Clive leaned over to set the open bottle on the floor this time, and then he ran the fingers of the hand not fucking into his little brother to skim over his glistening hole and taint, oiling his other hand, and brought it back to Joshua’s cock. Joshua moaned, and eagerly used his brother’s hand for pleasure. He tried his best to match the motions of Clive’s fingers, rocking back and thrusting forward in time.
“Clive, Clive Clive—” Joshua mewled. The squelching was obscene, now even wetter by the copious amounts of oil. The sound of his brother fucking his fingers inside him was so slick and wet in his ears he was sure it could heard for miles.
The fingers withdrew, and he felt Clive parting his rim with his thumbs, stretching him as far as he could go—enough that Joshua could feel himself gaping, his hole fluttering.
“Just incredible,” Clive said in wonder. His breath was hot against his entrance. “Gods—even in my dreams, I never thought—you’re taking it so well.” Joshua ground out a whine—why had he stopped? He arched his back and swayed his hips, hoping for the relief of Clive’s fingers, for them to be back inside him and filling him and going harder, faster—he was so close. He didn’t know what that meant, but he knew how it felt.
Clive gave his cheeks a squeeze. “I think you’re ready.”
Suddenly his brother’s warmth was gone completely. Joshua whined, looking back, but his eyes went wide at what he saw.
Clive had undone the laces of his trousers, and had his cock in hand. Joshua watched in fascination. It looked so different from his own, big and flushed. Clive was looking to his behind as he pumped his cock, his foreskin gliding with the movements, glistening with the oil he had slicked himself with.
He wanted to touch it—so he did.
Joshua turned, shuffling on his knees, and put his hands on his brother’s cock. It was hot, heavy in his little palms and almost velvety in texture. Curiously he felt the skin, moving Clive’s foreskin along his shaft, hiding and then revealing the head of his prick, where translucent liquid gleamed at the slit. Joshua couldn’t get one hand around the length, so he used both.
Clive hands laid limply at his sides, his eyes half-lidded as he let Joshua explore as he pleased. On his knees Joshua pressed in closer, bringing his brother’s cock to his bare belly to rest on as he pumped, watching Clive’s face in fascination.
“Does it feel good?”
Clive had his eyes closed, panting lightly, and he nodded. Enraptured, Joshua quickened his pace, drinking in every little sound from his brother. Clive moaned, and Joshua caught movement from the corner of his eye—it was Clive’s hands. His fingers were flexing and curling against his thigh, like he couldn’t control the movement, his whole body tensed. Clive’s chest heaved with his quickening breaths, his mouth open and panting. Still, he had his eyes closed, his brows lightly pinched.
Joshua realized Clive was moving in his grip, thrusting into his now oil-slicked hands. Curiously, Joshua stopped moving at all, and watched as Clive fucked into his hands, his fingers moving up and down his brother’s cock of no motion of his own. Joshua’s heart thundered in his chest, watching in rapt amazement as he brought his brother pleasure, like the kind he gave him.
“Joshua—please,” Clive moaned low, his voice so much deeper than Joshua was used to. He shivered, but he didn’t know what Clive wanted. So he moved his hands again, assuming he wanted more of his touch—only for Clive to shudder, and grab Joshua’s arms, stilling him. Confused, Joshua peered up—but Clive turned him, pivoting him by his arms. Even more confused, he tried to speak, but instead squeaked when Clive suddenly embraced him, his arms around his middle and his face shoved against Joshua’s shoulder.
Joshua shivered, feeling his brother’s cock rubbing against his rear insistently.
“Please,” Clive panted. “Please, can I put it inside?”
Inside. Oh.
With his big brother’s prick pressed against him, everything clicked into place. Joshua thought of the anatomical textbooks, and descriptions of procreation—he supposed this was somewhat similar. Though he certainly hoped Clive wasn’t expecting to get a baby off him—one glance at his parts would tell you that wouldn’t work.
Now he knew somewhat of what to expect, and he felt his anticipation mounting even higher. Was it strange to want this so badly? To have his elder brother, his flesh and blood, take him like a woman, when they couldn’t even have children? Wasn’t that the point of copulation?
But such doubts did little to dampen his need. He thought of his brother’s fingers, and how they stretched him and made his toes curl. What would his cock feel like, inside Joshua? Would it even fit? Now that he had been filled up by his big brother, Joshua felt as if he was empty.
He wanted Clive. No, Joshua didn’t just want Clive—he needed him, needed him to be as close as possible, never to leave his side. He needed him to protect him, to love and cherish him, and to warm his bed, always.
While Joshua thought, Clive was grinding his cock against his rear, pressing kisses to his shoulder blades, his hands flat against Joshua’s belly. Through damp lashes, he peaked back at Clive, and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt. He nodded his assent.
“Please, Brother.”
He could feel Clive’s smile against his nape, and he continued to peck his shoulder’s and neck. Joshua couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of him at the ticklish sensation, and at the noise Clive only kissed harder, and then bore down on him.
Clive let himself go limp, bringing Joshua down with him, under him on the bed. Joshua caught himself on his hands and knees, his elder brother bracketing his body and still pressing kissing to his shoulder blades.
Languidly Clive rocked his prick between his brother’s cheeks, lifting up off of Joshua’s back to grip his hips. Joshua trembled, knowing that soon all of his brother would be inside him, and it was not in nervousness.
Impatient, Joshua ground back against Clive, hoping he would get the hint—he couldn’t be teased any longer. He heard Clive exhale a little chuckle. Fingers dug into the meat of his backside, spreading him, exposing him. When he felt the cock slipping between his cheeks again, Joshua was about to complain, but his breath hitched when he felt his brother’s cockhead at his hole—and he was being breached, opened up and shaking from it.
Joshua could only gasp out wetly against the sheets as his brother seated himself inside him. He felt so impossibly full, and any small movement would bring furls of pleasure that were so foreign to him until very recently.
There was so much, it was hard to focus—on the fullness, being so entirely engulfed by his brother, on the slick slide of Clive’s length pushing in deeper so slowly. And the sounds Clive was making—he panted and groaned as he bottomed out, like he had never felt this good in his life, like he had found heaven inside of Joshua. Joshua was dizzy with it, in the bliss that his brother wanted him and that Joshua could bring him such great pleasure. He feebly pressed a hand to his stomach and took a shuddering breath when he could feel the bulge there. Joshua brushed his fingers against it and heard Clive suck in a breath of his own.
Clive stilled his movements to give time for Joshua to adjust. He was gripping Joshua’s rear like his life depended on it, kneading the flesh in soothingly, earning him high pitched gasps. He occasionally thumbed Joshua’s rim where they were connected, and spread his cheeks to get a good look. Joshua groaned, hiding his face in his arms.
How they were positioned reminded him a bit of seeing dogs in the yard, mating without care. Like he was a bitch in heat. Joshua covered his head with a pillow, sure that his entire face and ears were entirely red by now. But embarrassment could not dampen his need, and he felt himself, face still hidden, arching his back and spreading his legs, allowing his brother to fill him deeper. He choked on a keen, stifling his moan with a hand like Mother had taught him to do with his laughter.
“Joshua,” Clive panted, “Won’t you show me?”
His hands were still on his ass, spreading his cheeks and massaging the pale flesh, making it hard for Joshua to think. He whined—Joshua very much wanted to see Clive’s face, but he was sure he must look horrid right now, redder than apples at the harvest. He wordlessly shook his head, biting his lip to not make a sound as Clive gave aborted little thrusts, unable to keep entirely still.
“Please?”
And then he leaned over Joshua, reaching towards the pillow. The weight of his brother bearing down on him and the angle change had Joshua gripping the sheets and crying out wantonly as heat shot through him. If Clive didn’t still have a hand on his trembling hips he would have collapsed into the bed. He tried to catch his breath, panting wetly, before lifting the pillow just enough to peak at Clive over his shoulder.
His stomach twisted—his brother was truly painfully handsome, and only now did Joshua understand why it would cause him to feel butterflies. His face was flushed, his hair tousled, and his lightly muscled chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths. Joshua met his eyes. He gazed at Joshua like he was the only thing in the world, and the intensity had Joshua’s throat going dry and diving back under the pillow, before finally he nodded. Joshua could really never say no to Clive.
Clive snatched the pillow with one hand and flung it haphazardly behind him. Before Joshua was able to cover his face with his arms again, Clive had a hand encircling his thigh and was twisting him around onto his back, and suddenly pulled out.
“Clive!” Joshua yelped—he felt so empty, shuddering as his hole gaped and fluttered. “Please!” Please don’t leave. Tears pricked at his eyes at the thought.
“I’m here, Brother,” Clive leaned over him to give him a gentle kiss, and Joshua craned up into him eagerly.
“Just a moment. I want to see your face.”
Joshua relaxed, letting out a shuddering sigh, and allowed himself to be limp in Clive’s grasp, so he could position him as he pleased. He grabbed at his upper thigh to tug him closer, and folded Joshua's legs against his chest. Joshua reflexively wrapped his arms around Clive’s neck, trembling at the bliss of being caged in by his brother. He watched a stray bead of sweat drip down Clive’s Adam's apple and impulsively pressed his small tongue to it, giving him kitten licks. Clive looked at him with half lidded eyes and lined up his cock with Joshua’s hole again.
He moaned at being filled. As his brother began to rock into him, all Joshua could think was, Why haven't we done this before? Truly Clive had deprived him, if he could have given him this love and pleasure so much sooner. Now that he was knowledgeable, however, Joshua would no longer be denied. Certainly they would do this everyday, as much as possible, until Joshua had his fill—though he doubted that was even likely. How could he ever tire of Clive?
The momentum of his brother’s thrusts was slow and languid, so gentle. His eyes were pitched closed in concentration, and all Joshua did was receive him, take what he was given as he often did of his big brother. Joshua stared at Clive, gazing into his face with his mouth lax and panting, and at each thrust, he wondered if he had ever felt so good in his life.
Clive's eyes fluttered open, and at his distant, hazy gaze, his brother's brow creased in concern.
“Does it feel good?” His movements began to slow. “You’re not in pain, are you?” The roll of his hips gradually stopped, and Joshua ground out a whine.
“Brother—you can't stop,” Joshua cried. He had to finish what he started—or maybe Joshua had started this, he wasn’t quite sure, but he also didn’t care. All he knew was the idea of stopping sounded tortuous—he needed relief.
Joshua rolled his hips up onto Clive's length to encourage him. “Please, more, more.” Joshua isn't asking, really—he's demanding, and if he doesn't get his way he will cry, because Clive hates it when he cries, and always gives him what he wants when he does so. He clings to his brother to not allow him to pull away any further, wrapping his legs around his waist and pressing his face against his throat. “More,” he whined, rubbing his face into his brother’s collarbone.
“Alright, alright, settle,” Clive huffed a little laugh, rubbing a hand soothingly through Joshua’s waves. “No need to get bossy.”
Joshua was going to complain, and say that clearly he needed to be, but he jumped when his brother rocked into him suddenly, driving out a keen from him. Leisurely Clive rolled his hips, and Joshua clung as closely as he could.
He could tell his brother was trying to keep a rhythm, fucking him slow and deep and steady, and he tried to meet him in kind, but Joshua didn’t have the restraint, or the pace. He writhed, and met each movement too soon, too quickly, all the while begging for more.
“Clive, Clive,” he mewled. The now familiar heat was building in his belly as he came untethered, unwound and heedless. “Clive,” he cried, careless of any who could hear him. “More, please.” He squirmed, grinding down on his brother’s cock, trying to feel him deeper, harder, faster—
“Joshua—I’m trying to be gentle,” Clive murmured into his neckline, folded over Joshua. He supposes it’s his brother’s nature, but Joshua never asked him to be gentle.
“Please, please, please—”
“Joshua— I don’t want to hurt you,” Clive huffed out, his voice fond but exasperated. That seemed like such a silly thing to say, to Joshua.
“You can’t hurt me,” he puffed out, struggling to speak, his mind hazy with his bliss. “You’re my Shield.”
“Your Shield,” Clive mumbles into his neck. “Is His Grace commanding me?”
Joshua paused, still feeling so addled. The question left him at a bit of a loss. “Yes?” he answered, unsure, only for Clive to laugh, breathless with his exertion.
“As you wish.”
Clive slowed, but before Joshua could whinge about it, he drove back into him hard, the force shoving Joshua’s tiny body. He gripped his hips, tilting his pelvis upward, allowing him even deeper.
“Oh— yes, yes, Brother, ah—” His whimpering was silenced by a kiss, every sound forced out of him at the snap of hips swallowed down by his brother. The angle changed something, and Clive was pounding into something sensitive—Joshua arched, and writhed, but his brother held him close.
Joshua had to break the kiss, to gasp out for breath, and Clive pressed a kiss to his cheek. Sweat dripped from his chin, and he looked down to Joshua, nearly bent over him.
“Good?” he rasped, and Founder, was his voice deep like Joshua had never heard it before. To know that he was feeling good, good like how he made Joshua feel, made Joshua feel like he was burning up all the more.
“Yes, oh—Brother!” Joshua all but shrieked, his toes curling and his legs trembling as his sweet spot was drilled. At his heedless cries, Clive’s eyes went wide, and a hand was cupped over his mouth.
“Joshua—someone could hear. We have to keep quiet.” Joshua shook his head, pitching his eyes closed and pushing against the hand. None of that mattered, when it was just him and Clive, being one, becoming undone. He didn’t want to worry about keeping quiet—how could he focus on that? Everybody else was so far away—he only saw, felt, and tasted his brother, all around him like a second skin.
Clive was making a shushing sound, not that Joshua really cared. His sounds were still fairly loud even though his hand, but how could Joshua help it, when he felt so good? Clive leaned in for a kiss, but Joshua knew he was just trying to stifle him, and he needed his breath anyways, so he clung in close, driving his face into the junction between his brother’s shoulder and neck, and sung his cries.
“Flames—oh, forget it.”
Joshua felt himself bent even more as Clive bore down on him, lifting his waist up by his upper thighs. He wanted to cry thank you, thank you as his brother delivered upon him exactly as he desired, giving him more, and more, but when he spoke, all he heard was keens, each higher than the last. The simmering heat in him was igniting, like the Phoenix was screeching in his chest, trilling out pleased cries. He realized he was crying, though he didn’t know why—he wasn’t sad. He was wonderful.
He tapped on Clive’s shoulder rapidly with a shaking hand, as if that was in any way a form of coherent communication—but somehow, his brother understood him, like he always did.
“You close?”
Frantically Joshua nodded. As he shook and panted, even through such bliss, embarrassment started to creep in on him at his debauched state. He reached again for a pillow, smothering it longways against his face and chest. He gripped it for dear life, wetting it near immediately with the drool from his gasping mouth.
“Joshua, don’t hide, show me,” and again Clive started to slow, to stop. Joshua let out an incensed whine, and dug his heels into his brother’s back cruelly. He kicked him with the back of his foot when he stopped all together, though Clive took it with ease.
“I want to see, Brother,” Clive heaved, out of breath. He didn’t have to say it, but Joshua knew he was being denied his brother’s cock, his bliss, because of his own hiding. It was a stalemate. Stubbornly, Joshua whined against his pillow, refusing to be the loser. Surely, Clive couldn’t hold out forever.
“Please? I have to. You can’t finish and not let me see.” Again, Joshua whined. Exasperated, Clive huffed. Joshua felt something on his belly—a tickle of hair, the cascade of Clive’s bangs, and he realized his brother was just shoving himself under his pillow.
When Clive’s face popped up next to Joshua’s, he gave him a grin. Joshua returned the gesture with a pout—that was cheating. A victory for Clive, he resumed his pace. He lay bodily on his little brother, Joshua bent in half, still clutching his pillow over Clive’s head uselessly, like he was making a little fort. He found it was just nice to have something to hold onto, even though he didn’t have it to shield his embarrassment anymore. And like this, it was so much more embarrassing, but oh so thrilling.
With his brother looking into his eyes, quickly he was spiraling. It was too much, everything was so much—he was full, so filled up by his big brother, caged in by his body and given his undivided attention, all the while he fucked his love as deeply inside Joshua as he could.
Clive gripped his face, and watched— and Joshua could not bear it. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook, crying out an ah, ah as he reached his first orgasm on his brother’s cock. Joshua felt like he was burning up, a shiver of flame in his brother’s arm, and all the while Clive rocked into him, just a blur in Joshua’s vision when he could finally open his eyes again. He blinked away tears that he couldn’t help, and whimpered cries he couldn't help, either.
Clive watched with half-lidded eyes, panting his own pleasure as he gazed at Joshua in rapt attention. How Joshua wished he still had the shield of his pillow—he cannot even imagine how shameless he looked right then. At some point, he’d dropped hold of his pillow, his hands and limbs like jelly, limp at his sides.
“You’re so beautiful,” his brother groaned out, and his pace quickened. Joshua’s breath caught, still so sensitive, and he trembled at every deep thrust. Clive ducked his head into Joshua’s neck, to bite a kiss on his fluttering pulse.
“Brother, Brother—” he choked out, drunk on his brother’s bliss, clawing his little nails down his back. If his brother needed to look at him, then Joshua was desperate to see Clive reach his own peak.
He squeaked when suddenly he was empty, full to nothing in just moments. With ease Clive flipped him onto his belly. He felt his brother’s prick on his rear, and instead of filling him up, it slid between his cheeks, guided by Clive’s hand, as he gasped and trembled. At the motion, the tip caught on Joshua’s reddened rim, his hole and taint now so thoroughly slicked by the fragrant oil. Quickly Joshua looked over his shoulder to see, and he saw his handsome brother becoming undone.
“Joshua, Joshua, oh—I love you—” he cried. Clive panted Joshua’s name like a prayer—perhaps the sweetest sound he had ever heard—his grip near bruising, but Joshua was beyond caring. His slick red mouth parted in a gasp, his chest heaving with every shuddering breath, and Joshua saw him bite his lip, pulled taut between his teeth. Clive clutched Joshua like his life depended on it, and with a final keen he stilled his rutting, painting Joshua’s back white. Joshua shivered, feeling an odd sort of bliss as being marked by his brother’s pleasure.
Clive slowed his motions, but still kept rocking back and forth slowly like he couldn’t stop himself. Gradually he eased, and rather dramatically, Clive collapsed on him, puffing with exertion.
“Brother,” Joshua grumbled, “You’re squishing me.” He was so heavy, and sweaty, and being totally smothered by his weight wasn’t as pleasing when he wasn’t being fucked. Joshua did take pleasure in noting that the milky substance he spilled on his back was likely smearing on Clive’s own front now, though. He could have it back.
He slid from his back to Joshua’s side, curling him to his side with him, Joshua’s back to Clive’s chest. His brother threw a lazy arm around him, licking a bead of sweat from Joshua nape, still breathing heavily.
“Thank you,” he murmured into Joshua’s ear. Joshua smiled, giggling a bit, and hugged Clive’s arm closer, nestling back into him.
“Why thank me? You did most of the work.” Clive laughed like he’d said something silly, but it was true.
“You don’t know—you’ve given me the sweetest gift. I can’t describe how badly I’ve wanted you.” Clive was rubbing circles into his hips with his thumbs. “It’s like a dream. I’m happy.”
Joshua grinned. He was happy too, but also so relieved, that Clive felt these feelings as well. Most of all he felt understood. He and Clive were one and the same.
“Me too.” Joshua reached his head back to press his lips to Clive’s, tasting summer.
“I hope you don’t think less of me,” Clive mumbled into his mouth. “My behavior—it hasn’t been—” He seemed to be struggling with the right words. “Proper,” Clive decided. “It’s been very…forward.”
“Think less of you? I think very highly of you.” Joshua shifted to face him, pressing his small hands to Clive’s warm cheeks. “My Shield,” he cooed. Clive nuzzled into his palms and Joshua thought he felt the beginnings of stubble scraping against his hands.
“I’ll take responsibility,” Clive said, with all the seriousness he always had while speaking of duty. “I’ll take care of you, Joshua. Always.” He cupped his hands over Joshua’s.
Such intensity had Joshua going a bit pink. Even in bed, his brother was swearing oaths to him.
Clive’s brow pinched. “I’m not sure how I’ll pay your dowry, though,” he murmured, gaze cast aside as if in deep thought.
“I’m a boy, I don’t have a dowry,” Joshua huffed peevishly. Wait—was his brother thinking of marriage? His pinkness deepened to a Rosarian red.
It seemed like Clive wasn’t listening. “I don’t even have a wage as a Shield,” he mumbled.
Joshua paused. “Wait, you don’t?” Every Shield should have a wage—it must be because Clive was still young, with his needs met at the castle.
Clive looked into his eyes. “It’s alright, Joshua. I’ll take care of you, no matter what.” His hands tightened around Joshua’s, warm and secure.
“Clive…” Joshua blinked up to his charming brother in amazement. Why must his brother always be saying things such as this, making Joshua go into such a tizzy, making his heart skip a beat? It always left him fumbling for words. As he thought for a moment, clarity interrupted his butterflies.
“But wait, won’t I be employing you…?”
“Oh, that’s right,” Clive’s face fell flat as realization set in. Joshua burst into a fit of giggles, laughing into the crook of his brother’s shoulder.
“Hey, don’t laugh, I’m trying to be serious,” Clive said, but he was already starting to laugh too.
“I’ll take good care of you, Brother.” Joshua giggled.