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From the moment young Joshua Rosfield opens his eyes, he can feel an all too familiar chill coursing through his veins, causing him to involuntarily shiver and pull his thick blankets up to his chin. Immediately, he’s struck by how heavy his limbs feel.
Every inch of his body feels weak and lethargic, the ache seeping down beneath the muscle and into his bones.
There’s a persistent tickle in his throat, one which no amount of swallowing seems to ease. He feels the quiet rattle in his chest on every inhale, and he coughs as the pressure grows in his lungs.
It’s a struggle to sit up, so he rolls himself to one side with no small amount of effort, able to slowly prop onto his elbow.
His Nanny, having heard his coughing, hurries to his aid, holding a handkerchief to his mouth as he coughs violently. She strokes his back soothingly, telling the handmaiden stoking the fire to fetch his medicine as he struggles to catch his breath. The girl scurries off at her behest.
Joshua whines and rubs at his chest. It’s already terrible enough to be taken ill on a consistent basis, but he has plans today— special plans.
He and Clive are supposed to see each other today.
It’s difficult to spend any quality time with his brother these days. Their difference in ages being reason enough, but their roles in the duchy also require their own educational pursuits.
Clive no longer has certain political obligations in favor of his training as a Shield, while Joshua bears the brunt of them all. His big brother is smart, though, and has kept up with the studies he’s no longer required to learn. And yet, Joshua understands little of the responsibilities of a Shield or a squire.
He knows his Shields are sworn to Rosaria, more specifically to the Phoenix— to him, but no one other than Clive has ever taken the time to “bore him with the minor details.”
And he also knows that Clive often travels nowadays as Commander Murdoch’s squire. The only times Joshua has been taken out of the city’s walls were with his father. And even then, only for political purposes. He doesn’t get to leave for the trips into the wilderness on routine missions to slay wild beasts, investigate the blight, or rescue wayward merchants like his brother does.
Clive has been gone— off to the western cliffs— for the past three days, meaning Joshua hasn’t seen him even during dinner. As such, there most certainly has been no sneaking off to his room at bedtime and no ambushing him after his training near the barracks.
At least they’d spoken before he left. Clive told him that he’d have a free day or two in order to rest when he returned. And he promised to spend at least one of those days with him. Out of anything his brother could have chosen to do, he chose to spend time with him.
“Please don’t cry, your grace. You’ll only tire yourself,” the kindly woman attempts to soothe him.
“B-but I practiced and…” And now he’s sick. Joshua’s vision blurs as his eyes water with unshed tears. He won’t get to see him after all. He’d spent all of the previous evening practicing the swordsmanship Clive had shown him.
Will someone tell Clive? Will he be waiting for him? Will he be worried about him?
He coughs again, harder this time. He can see the faint trace of pink on the handkerchief and shuts his eyes tightly so he won’t have to look at it. It’s not that it scares him. Or maybe it does.
Just because he’s used to it doesn’t mean it gets any easier.
“It’s going to be alright,” his Nanny pats him on the back now, encouraging him to cough up whatever he needs to. She stays with him like that, Joshua fighting against his own body for control. Though it’s not long before he hears the door open and two voices murmuring lowly.
A warm cup of tea is held to his lips. He knows what it is and what it’s masking. And as much as he wants resist, he opens his mouth and drinks as deeply as he possibly can. The relief is near immediate as it numbs and coats his throat, the burning in his lungs easing as he breathes in the warm fumes.
The taste is horrific, somehow both earthy and sour, and only when his stomach lurches does his Nanny pull the cup away, once more offering him a handkerchief. This one is clean.
He wheezes tiredly, slowly reclining back on his now-propped pillows. There’s no way he’ll be allowed to properly lie down for the time being, lest he choke, a warning repeated to him many times during his early childhood.
His Nanny at least knows how to arrange the pillows comfortably. She tucks him back into bed and sits in the chair at his side. Undoubtedly, his mother will come as soon as she is able. Whenever that may be. His eyelids draw heavy. And Clive.. what about Clive?
The fever is gone when next he wakes, well into the morrow, and he is told that the duchess has given strict orders that he is to remain on bedrest for at least another day.
Everyone assumes he must have overworked himself during his Phoenix training. It is the usual culprit of his illness, after all. He chooses to go along with this theory, lending it credence when asked about it.
No one can know how hard he’s worked just to have a chance at impressing his older brother. He has long since accepted that he will never be strong like Clive, and he doubts that he will ever be a quarter as brave. But he still tries to emulate him whenever he can.
He’d spent hours imagining that proud look in his eyes, thinking about the praise he might bestow upon him. There will be another time to show him, of course, but he’d planned for this time, grown excited for it, only to have it ripped away.
Maybe that’s why he acts despondent when given his bath. Or why he barely touches his breakfast when it’s brought to him, only managing to nibble at the fresh bread.
Silently, he sulks, cursing his body and his blessing. He never asked for this power, this responsibility. His caretakers just assume he’s in a sour mood from being taken ill, and on the surface, that’s the truth.
He is upset, angry even. Why him? Why did the Phoenix have to choose him? Why couldn’t the Phoenix have chosen Clive instead?
“Why don’t we try again later? Let me take this from you, your grace.” His Nanny finally gives up trying to force him to eat and excuses herself from the room, bading him to stay put as per his mother’s orders.
“Yes, ma’am,” He promises in a shaky voice as she takes the plate away. It isn’t until she leaves the room that his silence turns to tears. Not knowing what else to do, he rolls over, facing away from the door.
His small body racks with sobs, even as he tries to keep quiet. This is his burden to bear. He knows that. He understands that. But it isn’t fair.
He can’t control the crying once he has started, only able to ride the waves of sorrow as he tries to regain his composure before his Nanny— or worse, his mother— finds him like this.
He’s just gotten his breathing under control when he hears the door click yet again and footsteps approaching. He starts wiping his eyes on the arm of his silken, white shift, trying to hide the tear stains on his cheeks, though his red nose and puffy eyes might give it away. Perhaps it’s safer to pretend to be asleep.
He holds his breath as the person approaches, trying to remain as still as possible. The mattress to his side dips and he tenses. He doesn’t want anyone close to him right now. Most certainly not his Nanny, and definitely not his mother…
They’re now on his bed moving towards him. He gasps at the warm touch to his shoulder. It causes him to turn quickly, reproachfully peeking up at the intruder through his bangs with his deep, sea-green eyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he’s met with the kindest of smiles and most gentle of gazes. “I was told you weren’t feeling well yesterday.”
“Clive!” Joshua can’t hide the excitement in his voice. The joy overtakes him. He finds a burst of strength to propel himself forwards and with enough force to knock Clive back onto his mountain of pillows.
“In the flesh,” Clive moves his hand into Joshua’s fluffy golden hair, gently stroking his fingers through the entwined strands and loosening them gently. “Are you feeling better?” He asks in the same soft, caring tone he always takes when talking to his little brother.
“Much better now that you’re here!” Joshua crawls all over Clive much like an overeager puppy. Even Torgal behaves better than this.
“You didn’t have to come… but I’m really glad you did.” his shy smile is juxtaposed by the way he is practically straddling Clive’s lap now, arms wrapped around his neck. “They said I can’t leave the room until at least tomorrow.”
“Of course I didn’t have to come, but I wanted to. I couldn’t just leave you to suffer alone,” Clive wraps his own arms around Joshua’s waist to hold him in place. “Though now I wonder if my presence is even required. You seem perfectly healthy to me,” he teases.
Joshua giggles and pushes at him playfully, all of his earlier troubles forgotten. “Then I’ll have to get sick again so you can come take care of me.”
“Please don’t,” Clive laughs. He knows as well as anyone— not a single soul should underestimate how Joshua will use his health as an excuse to get extra attention from his brother.
“I really am feeling better now, though!” Joshua insists. “It was just a fever and a cough,” just the usual. When he thinks about it like that, it doesn’t seem so bad.
”Just a fever and a cough, hm?” Clive’s voice is laced with concern. He shakes his head but offers no further comment. Arguing with Joshua about his illness never gets anywhere.
“And I’m sorry I don’t have my sword, so I can’t show you what I’ve been practicing. But… you can teach me what you learned on your trip!” Joshua always loves hearing about Clive’s excursions, even if he doesn’t always understand them.
“You want me to teach you how to survive off of old, dried meat and ale?” Clive cocks a playful smirk.
Joshua wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Eww, no… Does Commander Murdoch actually make you eat that?”
“Only when we are on the field. They’re called provisions,” he grins, stroking along Joshua’s sides affectionately. It’s impossible to resist taking advantage of their time alone to dote on him a little more than usual.
“He doesn’t make you eat carrots, does he?”
“Sometimes.”
“That’s so mean of him.” Joshua furrows his brows and purses his lips. “When I’m archduke, I’ll make sure you have the finest meats and ale to carry with you.” And maybe in the meantime he should talk to their father about these so-called ‘provisions.’
Clive chuckles softly. “I’ll have to tell him you said that.” Commander Murdoch is sure to get a hearty laugh out of it as well.
“Good,” Joshua buries his face against Clive’s chest, completely serious, “Let him know that he better feed you well, or I’ll be very, very cross with him.” He gives him his best threatening look which really just ends up being more cute than frightening.
“Is that so?” Clive pulls Joshua a little closer, giving him a gentle squeeze, lowering his voice. “Thank you for worrying about me, Joshua. I’m so lucky to be loved by you.”
Joshua smiles. He is familiar with the shift in tone, and his breath hitches as Clive lifts his chin, leaning in to steal the sweetest of kisses.
He can’t help but moan happily, his small fists clenching at Clive’s top as his brother licks at his lips, beckoning his mouth to open up to him. Joshua is all too happy to oblige, parting his lips for Clive’s invading tongue. He tries his best to keep up with the intensity of the kiss, but ultimately falls apart, letting his older brother do as he pleases.
When Clive pulls back, Joshua’s cheeks are flushed, the brightest smile in the world lighting up his face. He is completely and perfectly happy in this single moment. So happy, in fact, that he dives back in for another kiss.
This time Clive gives him control, letting his inexperienced tongue flick against his own and fighting a smile when Joshua bites his lower lip just a little too hard. It hurts, but it’s adorable how eager he is.
“Softly, Joshua,” he guides him once more, reaching his hand up to cup his little brother’s jaw, nipping his lower lip gently to show him how it’s done. It’s enough to slow Joshua down, and he allows Clive to take back the lead without complaint. It always feels better when he does it anyways.
Clive snakes his arm around Joshua’s waist, pulling his brother tightly against him. He is growing more forceful with his kisses as excitement rushes over him, and Joshua responds in kind, moaning and rocking down against him instinctively.
It’s all Clive can do to break away from his younger brother’s inviting mouth, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself as he plants a chaste kiss to his forehead.
“Clive…” the way Joshua whispers his name sends a shiver down Clive’s spine. “Can we kiss some more? Please?” He begs, reaching up for Clive’s face to bring his attention back down to him.
“Are you sure?” Clive’s cock twitches to life as Joshua continues to rub against him, and it’s only then that the older boy seems to become aware of how fast the situation is escalating. “Isn’t it boring? I could always read you a story or—“
Joshua smashes their lips together again, rolling his hips down against the growing bulge in Clive’s pants. It isn’t intentional, it just feels good.
Whatever weak protests his older brother may have given fall short as soon when he feels those rosy lips on his own once more. His hands run lower and lower until he has Joshua’s bottom in both hands over his thin smock, giving both cheeks a generous squeeze.
He earns a small whimper from Joshua at the sudden groping. The way Clive is rolling his hips up to meet his own is giving him much needed friction which has his stomach tightening with pleasure. He gives a small shudder, practically collapsing on him.
Clive stills for a moment as they part for air once more. His eyes are entranced by the scene unfolding in front of him.
The sight of Joshua’s lips red and glossy from their kissing, his face flushed from arousal— his little brother is dry humping him so shamelessly, and worse still, Joshua doesn’t even seem to realize exactly what he’s doing. It’s enough to have Clive’s cock positively straining against the much too tight confines of his trousers.
“Clive, it feels really good,” Joshua’s voice is barely a whisper, forehead touching his brother’s chest. “What’s happening to me?” He sounds so lost and confused, but still he doesn’t stop.
He can’t stop. Not now.
He’s so focused on his own desire that he misses the flicker of conflict in his brother’s eyes. Clive knows that a good older brother would have already stopped Joshua and explained to him why this was wrong, but then again, a good older brother wouldn’t be taking advantage of his little brother’s innocence and naivety in the first place, now would he?
“Joshua, do you—” his voice is strained, frustrated by his own inaction, but he has to convince himself it’s for Joshua’s sake first, “Have you done this before?”
Joshua mewls, his thrusts becoming shaky and slowing. “S-sometimes,” he stammers, breathing hard with exertion. “N-Not often,” he huffs against Clive’s chest, pressing quite hard against his older brother’s body as he resorts to a sort of rocking motion to compensate for his tiredness.
Clive knows better than to assume he’s done this with someone else. He’s conveyed to him multiple times before that this sort of affection is only for them to share together, “Will you tell me about it?” He coaxes him, all the while trying to push down the incredibly strong desire to pin his little brother to the bed and show him exactly how to do this.
“I…” Joshua digs his fingers in even harder against Clive’s shoulders. “Mmploh,” he mumbles, face buried in Clive’s chest.
“I’m sorry?”
Joshua peaks up at him shyly, “My pillow. Umm, I use my pillow,” he sounds just a little embarrassed, almost as if it’s dawning on him how wholly inappropriate he’s acting.
“And does it go away after you use your pillow?” Clive asks gently, using his strength to pry Joshua off of him despite his whines of protest. The older boy carefully turns his brother around so that his back is pressed against his chest.
“Yes…” Joshua glances over his shoulder and gives Clive a confused look, rubbing his legs together impatiently.
“I see. Do you feel better afterwards? Relieved?” Clive presses on, letting his hand trail over Joshua’s clothed stomach, tracing long, lazy circles.
Joshua stops squirming. “Mm, not really. It just goes away, or I get tired,” he leans his head back against Clive’s chest with a soft sigh, the touch comforting him and calming him if only a little.
Clive buries his face against the crook of Joshua’s neck, planting tender kisses on the smooth skin. “Do you want me to make you feel better? I can teach you how to do it yourself,” he presses his lips to Joshua’s ear, earning a sharp gasp.
“Uh huh,” Joshua brings his fist to his mouth, biting against his finger in the way he does when he’s nervous. “Can you teach me, Clive? Please?”
Clive turns his face and smiles against Joshua’s cheek. “Alright,” he says in a hushed tone. “Just lie back against me and relax. I’ll show you what to do.” He continues to pet Joshua’s stomach as he runs his free hand up onto his hair, fingers lacing into his beautiful locks.
He stays like that for a moment, as if he is thinking.
The tension slowly releases from Joshua’s body thanks to his caresses, and he gazes down to watch Clive’s hand as it glides over his body, fascinated by all of the pleasurable sensations stemming from the simple touch.
Clive nuzzles his cheek affectionately, earning a soft giggle from the younger boy. His hands trail down from his stomach, sprawling out on his thighs. He curls his fingers into fists to pull the soft material of Joshua’s shift up to his knees.
His left hand is busy pushing the blankets down past their thighs, and Joshua is vaguely aware that Clive is wanting to watch what he’s doing. He squirms shyly, now full of the realization that Clive will be looking at him. Bare. Exposed. Naked in his most intimate area.
All he can concentrate on is how his smock rises higher and higher until the hem is just at Clive’s fingertips.
And Clive’s breath is quickening. There’s no way he can resist the temptation to stroke his younger brother’s bare thighs. His skin is so soft and smooth everywhere, but especially here, and Clive idly wonders how they’d feel squeezing around his now throbbing cock.
It’s clear to Joshua that his older brother is enjoying himself as he takes his time exploring his body, pulling his smock the rest of the way up so that it’s bunched around his stomach and hips, exposing his small braies to his brother’s lustful gaze.
He’s only recently started wearing them with his nightly attire, getting to “that age” where it’s no longer cute for him to be wearing delicate shifts.
Joshua whines and turns his head in embarrassment that Clive can now see the small tent pitched in the thin material.
“You’re so beautiful, Joshua,” Clive encourages him, kissing his cheek when he turns his head. “Is it okay if I keep going?”
Joshua nods wordlessly, not trusting himself to speak. All he knows is that he wants Clive to keep touching him.
Everything is quiet until Clive runs his hands back up Joshua’s body, taking the opportunity to brush his fingers over his nipples through his clothing.
The sensation causes Joshua to moan, and Clive takes this as an invitation. He pinches and flicks at the little nubs, feeling as they grow hard under his touch. He can’t help but note how sufficiently lewd they look under the light fabric.
“Oh, Clive,” Joshua writhes back against him, but he doesn’t try to pull away. The way his small hips lift off the bed indicate Clive must be on the right track.
“Does it feel good?” Clive asks in a low whisper.
“Yes,” Joshua breathes without hesitation.
“Good. Tell me if something hurts or you don’t like it, okay?” He gives Joshua’s neck an affectionate kiss before bringing one of his hands up to his lips, carefully wetting his thumb and forefinger with his spit and returning them to the hard buds, dampening the material just enough that Clive can make out the distinct pink underneath.
“O-okay. I-I will,” Joshua’s voice shakes a little as Clive slips one of his hands under his smock until he’s directly teasing his nipples, skin rubbing against skin. It’s enough to have Clive groaning against his neck as he pulls lightly at them, causing Joshua to whine sharply.
“Shh, not so loud,” Clive laughs breathlessly, hooking his fingers in the string of Joshua’s braies, loosening them.
When Clive wraps an arm around him, Joshua instinctively holds on. His older brother lifts him and pushes his undergarments down around his knees, fully exposing his small erection jutting up proudly towards his stomach.
Clive’s grip around his waist tightens. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
Joshua returns the hug as best as he can, covering Clive’s arm and squeezing until his brother takes his right hand in his own, guiding him down to his hardened length. Clive cups the underside and curls Joshua’s fingers around it.
And Joshua moans.
“See, you hold it like this,” he instructs quietly, “Make sure to wrap your hand around it. Use just enough pressure that it feels good. You don’t want to squeeze it too hard,” as if to demonstrate, he gently tightens his own hand around his brother’s little cock until he has it in a firm, yet far from painful, grip.
“Now, just move your hand,” and to demonstrate, Clive begins to stroke their hands up and down as one, starting at the base and working his way to the tip, not at all a difficult feat considering it fits completely within his fist.
“Use your wrist more. That’s it.” He squeezes on the up motion, almost as if he’s trying to milk him. The sensation has Joshua’s toes curling, and he cries out softly, causing Clive to cover his mouth and stifle the noise.
“Joshua,” he reprimands with a soft laugh, gripping the boy’s length purposefully, causing him to buck up against their joined hands.
Joshua is trembling, hips thrusting up erratically into their fists. It’s a good thing Clive is muffling his noises, as he’s forgotten what it means to be quiet, whimpering and moaning with zero regard for his volume.
Clive kisses his temple, his cheek, his ear. “Just a little more. You’re doing such a good job,” he encourages, though in truth, they both know Joshua isn’t doing anything. It’s Clive’s hand that is doing all of the actual work. Joshua yelps into Clive’s palm when his brother rolls the pad of his thumb over the sensitive head of his small cock.
“Did you like that?” Clive does it again and Joshua kicks his legs under the sheets. “You try it now.”
At his brother’s behest, Joshua tentatively rolls his own thumb over the slit, his eyelashes fluttering. His lips part against Clive’s hand, moaning and panting freely as swirls around the tip with his own thumb.
Clive’s hand begins moving again, this time in earnest, setting a quick, pumping rhythm that has Joshua writhing against him once more, heels digging into the mattress.
“You’re close aren’t you? It’s okay, you can let it out.” He gives another gentle squeeze and Joshua practically screams.
His little brother starts bucking and kicking violently now, pushing back against Clive as his orgasm overtakes him. Tears sting his eyes from the sheer intensity as his body shakes and hips push up into their hands desperately.
“I’m so proud of you. You did so well,” Clive whispers to him, noting that he’s still dry- not a single drop of sticky fluid to clean up. He slowly releases his grip on Joshua’s hand, petting over his stomach and taking a moment longer to admire the view.
He’s painfully aware of his own aching arousal now that Joshua’s desire is sated, but his little brother is in a complete daze, and Clive decides he has just enough morals not to instigate anything further today.
Today.
Now that this line has been crossed, there is only one path forward.
Reluctantly, he begins to help Joshua straighten out his clothes, pulling up and re-lacing his braies, making sure his delicate smock is pulled down past his knees, covering him properly.
Joshua finally turns to him with a tired smile. He pulls Clive down into a kiss to which his older brother hungrily responds, still driven by his own very obvious, very distracting need.
“You mean everything to me. You know that, right?” Clive asks him, stroking his side affectionately. He can see the exhaustion beginning to set in, unsurprising seeing as it’s his brother’s first time.
“You mean everything to me, too,” Joshua snuggles down against him, and Clive kisses his temple, eliciting a small giggle from the younger boy. “Thank you for teaching me… but it really is better when you do it.”
Clive can’t help but laugh. “I’m glad you liked it so much,” he pulls the tired boy firmly against him.
It’s getting late, and if he doesn’t leave soon, there’s an ever-increasing chance of someone finding them like this. While unbelievably arousing in the heat of the moment, Clive has just enough sense left in him to know the risk is too great.
And besides, Joshua is drifting in and out of sleep while his brother pets his hair and back. It’s likely he’ll be able to sleep the evening away and wake up to a better morning if Clive just leaves him be.
“I’m sorry I have to go,” Clive apologizes as he slowly disentangles himself from his brother.
Joshua doesn’t resist, but truthfully, he’s barely awake as it is. He does manage to open his eyes, but only just, and shakes his head, a sleepy smile on his face. “I understand… I don’t want you to get in trouble. Thank you for spending the day with me.”
“Of course,” Clive smiles. “I had fun today.” He carefully tucks his neglected erection against the band of his trousers and loosens his shirt just a little to help conceal it.
Joshua gives him a knowing smile, keenly aware of how lonely he feels without his older brother holding him. “I had fun, too,” he pauses, “Can we do it again soon? Please?” His voice is hopeful.
Clive laughs. “Whenever you’d like. I am, as always, your Shield to command,” he leans down, kissing his brother softly on the lips. Only for him to jolt up a moment later as he hears the door, and Joshua shuts his eyes immediately.
They finished just in time for his Nanny to return, it would seem.
Clive pulls the blankets up snugly around his shoulders. “Sleep well, Joshua.” He runs his fingers through his hair one last time. His beautiful, perfect little brother.
Joshua hates it when Clive has to leave. He wishes he could just stay in his arms all night, but he does understand that they can’t unless he’s able to sneak out to the older boy’s room. Even then, they have to be up incredibly early to avoid trouble.
He listens to a brief exchange with the Nanny as Clive thanks her for fetching him and giving them much needed time together. She thanks him in return for watching his brother so that she could tend to personal matters of her own.
It’s all too soon when Joshua hears the door once more and knows Clive is gone.
As Clive exits into the hall, he takes a quick inventory of his surroundings and decides to book it to his room. He’ll just skip dinner.
It’s late into the evening, the sun just setting on the horizon. Usually he would make his way to the large open balcony so that he could watch the sky change as night falls, and he would if it were any other day.
He freezes when he sees his mother, but she walks right past him, the only sign of acknowledgement a narrowing of her eyes and tightening of her lips. Both of her lady’s maids give very short bows to him, neither breaking their pace for a proper greeting.
It suits him just fine. He’s not in the mood to be berated by nor to argue with her.
He wonders how much more she would hate him if she knew that her precious Phoenix has been defiled and sullied by the likes of him— her greatest disappointment of a son.
His younger brother craves his kisses and his touches. Begs for them, even.
He hurries his pace around the bend, coming to his own bedroom door and slipping inside as fast as he can, shutting it hard behind him a bit more force than intended as he falls back on it. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.
He lifts his tunic and fumbles with his belt as he loosens his trousers, pulling out his swollen, leaking cock.
There is no ceremony, no gentleness as he’d shown with Joshua.
He furiously begins to jerk himself off as he recounts what just transpired. His senses are filled with images of his brother. He focuses on the memory of Joshua’s scent which clings to him, his taste permeating his tongue, his beautiful sounds muffled by his hand— all of those pretty moans and whimpers spilling from his lips.
How beautiful he’d looked with his clothes askew, completely vulnerable to whatever Clive desired. If only he’d had the time to be with him a little longer, he could have felt those soft, plush thighs closed tight around him, only to then be covered and coated in his seed.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers under his breath, his hand pumping with wild abandon.
He slams his back and head against the door as his climax hits him hard, and he spills over his hand and onto the floor, eyes wide and unseeing as he stares ahead, momentarily unresponsive.
At long last, he shudders a breath, his gaze flickering across the room as his soul returns to his body. He swallows hard, taking a moment to catch himself.
It’s as if all of his senses are slowly coming back, the cold reality of all he’s done sinking in all at once. He’d thrown all caution to the wind just for the chance to touch his little brother— the one person he’d sworn to protect with his life.
And he’d loved every second of it.
“What the fuck?”