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Clive sat back in his chair, letting it rock to and fro at a controlled rhythm with the toe of his boot. He had a stack of books in his lap and on the floor at his side, and was holding up each one individually for Joshua to carefully inspect.
"Isn't there some saying about this?" Clive mused, moving the book just enough to be able to actually see his brother over the edge of it. "Don't judge a book by its cover...? Or something like that."
Joshua shrugged. "I can't help it when I want something specific."
"Fair enough," Clive said, setting the current book down at Joshua’s dismissive gesture. "So what are you in the mood for, then, Your Grace?"
A teasing quip, but one that lacked any substance as he watched Joshua giggle, his expression soft, eyes full of nothing but tender love.
Joshua grabbed a pillow, holding it close against himself as he rolled onto his stomach. “I don't know, really,” he said, his tone quiet. “Mother doesn't allow me any time at all to read the fun books. So I'm not really sure what I like.”
Clive grimaced, his heart aching. “Well,” he started, “that's what you have me here for.” He smiled softly, reaching out to cup Joshua's cheek. “And if I'm remembering correctly,” he continued, that smile turning mischievous, “you seem fond of all the romances I've shown you. Particularly the one with the two tragic lovers who follow each other into the underworld. I remember when you had us act out a 'better' ending for the two, because of how distraught you were over their parting.”
Joshua pouted his cute little pout, leaning into Clive's hand. “But it was so sad, though. I don't think I could ever bear it if something like that were to happen to us...”
He put his hand over Clive's, giving it a gentle squeeze. His hands were far smaller, more slight and slender, but they were just as soft and warm as ever.
“I know,” Clive murmured, his lashes lowering as he leaned in closer, close enough to press a brief kiss to Joshua's forehead. “And for what it's worth, it kills me to think of us in those kinds of circumstances, too.” Clive pulled back just enough to offer Joshua a small, reassuring smile, reaching up to ruffle the silken strands of his hair. “But just know if anything were to ever happen to us, I would do everything within my power to keep us together. And I will. I promise.”
Joshua looked up at Clive with those big, round, starry eyes of his, like Clive was the one who hung the moon in the sky every night. “I promise that, too,” he said, his smile growing so big. “And if we're ever lost in the dark, then I can guide us!”
The flaming orb Joshua had conjured for their little dalliance bobbed through the air for emphasis, before going back to its original position, a small sun hanging between the two of them. Clive watched it momentarily, still so impressed that Joshua was already navigating his powers so proficiently at his age. But this was Joshua, and Joshua was capable of so many incredible things. With just a little more time and patience, he'd be able to show everyone just what he was truly made of, shining more radiant and hotter than any star in the sky. He'd be the brightest shining symbol everyone looked up to—Clive most of all.
“I'll make sure to always look for your light if we're ever separated, then,” Clive said, tracing his fingertips along Joshua's cheek, down to his chin. He held it for a moment just like that, admiring those pretty eyes before finally forcing himself to break their contact.
“But until then,” he continued, holding up another book, “if I may, Your Grace, I have a suggestion.”
“You may speak,” Joshua said, sticking his tongue playfully out at Clive.
“I hold within my grasp a tome penned from the finest ink onto the finest parchment, one that tells the fable of a fairy tale borne from our very own homeland here in Rosaria. Does this please you?” Clive lowered his lashes, using one hand to hold the book up, the other holding his cheek as he leaned his weight against its arm. He could see Joshua's eyes on him, not the book, surreptitiously looking him over. After a brief moment they were sliding slowly to the book, squinting as he read its cover.
“Sleeping Beauty?” he said, his eyes sparkling with interest. “I haven't even heard of that one before.”
Clive hummed in agreement, popping the short novel's cover open. The pages were actually pretty thin, wispy almost, delicate to the touch. The words were scrawled over in extraordinary penmanship, Clive's eyes gliding from one word to the next with no straining in between. This would be an easy read, if Joshua was actually interested in it.
“It's about a princess, and a tragic fate that befalls her. But,” he was quick to say, “it doesn't end tragically this time. So, what say you?”
Joshua grinned. “Yes,” he said, scooting over just enough to make room for Clive. “I like the sound of it. C'mon.”
He eagerly patted the space on the bed where he'd just been, and Clive couldn't help a little laugh. “Allow me just one moment, Your Grace, and I shall be with you anon.”
Joshua snorted, laying his chin on his pillow, lifting and kicking his feet back and forth through the air. The motion made the conforming white fabric of Joshua's nightshirt gather and bunch up upon his slender, pale thighs, so close to his buttocks that it was actually quite scandalous. Clive felt the blush forming in his cheeks before he could stop it, that same red creeping down his neck, his chest.
He was all too eager to busy himself with his task of cleaning up, carrying the books off somewhere he could easily grab for later. That somewhere being the table next to Joshua's door, so he wouldn't forget to grab them on his way out. Founder only knew what his mother would do if she found evidence of Clive trying to brainwash her precious Joshua, or something else asinine like that.
With their chosen book in hand—and a moment claimed to calm his fluttering heart—Clive kicked off his boots, before falling down onto the mattress next to his brother, making him bounce cutely in return.
“Oh, I needed this,” he muttered, rolling over onto his back, nestling in close against Joshua's side. He felt his brother wrap his arms around his head, his shoulders, and he pressed in closer to do the same, indulging in the concentrated scent at Joshua's neck—his gland. Clive reached up to press two fingertips against that patch of flesh, rubbing it slowly and gently as he used his other hand to keep the book open. The position was a little awkward and his fingers strained to keep the book upright and still, but he wasn't about to let go of Joshua when he was pressed so tight against Clive's body, his slender leg wrapping around his thigh. It made Clive's breath hitch, his mind hazy while he buried his nose in Joshua's hair.
“I needed this, too,” he heard Joshua agree, his voice muffled against Clive's skin. “Thank you for visiting me tonight, Brother. I know your time is much more limited these days.”
“Oh, but I will always make time for you whenever you need me,” Clive murmured in response, nuzzling the hair obscuring his face. “You need only say so, and I will be right at your side. It is my duty...” He smiled, petting Joshua's hair before continuing, “And my excuse. Everyone knows that if you need me, I am to drop everything and fulfill whatever duty you require of me.”
“Don't say that,” Joshua laughed, leaning back just enough to look Clive mischievously in the eye. “I might just have to start calling for you every night, then.”
“You know I wouldn't complain,” Clive said, meeting that look with an apologetic grimace. “But just bear in mind Mother. I...I don't think she actually would, but I do not like the idea of having to endure any threat of her banning me from seeing you again.”
Joshua winced. “Yeah,” he said, visibly deflating. “Maybe it's not such a good idea after all...”
“Maybe every day wouldn't be a good idea, but there's still the possibility of a day or two here and there. I don't think she'd say anything much about that.” Clive leaned in to press a kiss to the bridge of Joshua's nose, tender and lingering. “She also doesn't have to know every time I'm here,” he continued, pressing another playful kiss to Joshua's cheek, daringly close to the corner of his mouth. “You've a large closet I can hide in. A closet I have hidden in, coincidentally.”
He chuckled softly. “But we can figure that out later,” he said, squeezing the nape of Joshua's neck gently. “Let's get on with our story, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Joshua said, nuzzling closer against Clive's chest, his body growing more and more limp the longer Clive rubbed at his neck. It seemed with Joshua still as young as he was, he wasn't nearly as responsive to all the touching at his gland as he could have been just yet; but that was, perhaps, a good thing. With Clive still in the middle of his own bodily transitioning, his cycles delicate and unpredictable without his medication, it would have been a very bad idea to have Joshua mixed in with all of that. It was already bad enough that Clive knew Joshua was going to grow into an alpha; it was just a matter of when. And something he didn't need to be thinking about at that moment.
“Once, long ago,” Clive started, “there was a Princess in a faraway land. So striking was her appearance that it was the envy of many, and the target of many a ne'er-do-well seeking to molest her delicate beauty. The Princess herself was unaware of these fiends, a strange sort of luck about her as she dodged multiple attempts on her life.
“But her parents, afraid that one day that very luck would run dry, conceived of a plan in an attempt to keep her—and her life—safe.”
“I hope this isn't you trying to tell me I'm in danger or something,” Joshua mused, idly playing with the strings at the front of Clive's shirt. He pointedly ignored the way those fingertips would dip down occasionally past them, tracing what was visible of Clive's breastbone.
“Gods above, no,” Clive was quick to say, clutching Joshua even more tightly against himself. “That would never happen. Not with me around.”
He could feel Joshua's smile, the contentment that was radiating out from his smaller body. He was like a blanket for Clive, fitting so perfectly in his arms like he was meant to be there. And he was.
Continuing on, “So the Princess's parents devised a plan: cast a divine spell on their daughter that would keep her suspended in time as she fell into a long, deep sleep, hidden away in a tower whose location no one knew.
“But the parents had to keep in mind that no matter how powerful the spell, it would wear off in due time, and the Princess would wake once more. They considered this a necessary evil, and reassured themselves that she would have a much happier—and safer—life when next she roused.
“They found their spell with the only wicked, wizened Wizard of the realm...” Clive squinted at the text on the page, his tongue feeling clumsy as he went over the phrase once, twice, thrice.
“It's kind of fun as a tongue twister,” he said. You'll have to try it out when I'm done.” This was mostly Clive wanting to make sure it wasn't just him who stuttered over the words, but he was kind of curious to see how Joshua would handle something like that.
But all Clive got was a little snicker and, “Maybe later.”
Letting out a soft pfft, Clive returned his attention back to the book. “At first, the Wizard bade them farewell many times, until their persistence paid off. Finally the Wizard heeded their request, and gave them but one condition: that he would be granted permission to marry their daughter before he cast the spell. Her parents did not like this, but the Wizard was their only hope, for they had already traveled far and wide across the realm to find him.
“The ceremony was brief, devoid of the cheerful life and celebration that would have gone into a proper wedding. But this wasn't a proper wedding, as it was a wedding for the Wizard and he alone, who spent the whole time boasting of how he was immortal, and how he cast his spell on himself to prolong his life. For that had been biggest question of them all, if their daughter were to be put to sleep.
“Their daughter was unaware of her fate. She only watched as the Wizard rambled on, planning her escape. But it was this 'immortality' that would see them together forever, he said, briefly catching her attention. He would be her one true love, and one day she would come to see it.”
Clive made a soft noise at the back of his throat. “I guess this one isn't too cheery, either,” he mumbled, turning the page and showing Joshua the illustration that happened to be there. It was almost like a painting, a painting of a beautiful woman laid out among the flowers, her expression peaceful. It was nice to have a face for the Princess, at least.
“I'm liking it so far,” Joshua mused, looking up at Clive encouragingly. Though Clive could see how tired he looked, how exhaustion seemed to be creeping from the shadows of his face. He'd have to be quick, then, if Joshua was to enjoy the full story before succumbing to his own sleep.
Clive read on, taking them through the journey of the Princess, and how it all began when she pricked her finger on a thorn while picking a rose from her favorite rose bush. The Wizard had brewed an incredibly potent toxin that, while not enough to kill, would ensure its victim would fall right asleep. And then he cast his spell on her, one that could not be broken unless she was kissed by her one true love.
“But the plans of the Wizard were soon to be thwarted. He retreated back into his tower for when the hour came upon him to wake his wife, his Queen. The King and Queen that were the Princess's beloved parents quietly mourned their daughter's current state, knowing full well she would not wake while they were still alive.
“While they were mourning, a Prince from a neighboring kingdom had come to pay homage to the Princess, and ask for her hand in marriage.”
Joshua made a soft noise and perked right up, as if on cue. Clive smiled and kissed his head as he turned the page, before going back to rub at Joshua's gland.
“As luck would have it, the Prince stumbled upon the tower where they had laid the Princess to rest. Somehow, he knew whom he was looking at without needing the introduction. He called out to her, but receiving no response, approached the Princess and her bed of flowers. He gazed down upon her with wonder, at her beautiful face, ethereal and unreal.
“And then he kissed her. He kissed her politely, but then he kissed her firmly, unable to help himself. With his kiss...”
Clive shut the book, set it carefully to the wayside. Joshua was half-asleep on his chest, and he didn't want to disturb the boy too much, now. “The Princess awoke.”
A moment of silence...
“Is that it?” Joshua asked, his voice so small, laced with so much fatigue. “Do they get to live together? Happily?”
“With it being such a vague ending, I'm going to go with yes,” Clive answered, smiling. “I like these ones, honestly. It's frustrating not knowing the end, but...there's also a sort of freedom in it. A freedom that allows these characters to live on however they'd like.”
Joshua made a soft noise, smiling despite his closed eyes. “We should make their ending too, then,” he murmured, hugging Clive around the waist like he would a large cushion. “And then we can play it out...
“You'll be my prince, won't you, Clive?”
“Of course I will,” he answered, almost immediately. “And if my light in the darkness ever needs its flames rekindled, then I know just what to do. Don't I?”
Joshua lifted his lashes, just enough to be able to look up at Clive, to see him properly in the waning moonlight that had taken over for Joshua's magic. “You will,” he murmured, leaning up just that little bit closer. “You will.”
***
Clive leaned in to close the distance between them, his lips meeting soft, cold skin upon impact. He quietly lingered there, in the waning moonlight that had replaced Tarja's lamps, alone and at Joshua's bedside; and like the days before, he didn't move, he didn't speak, he didn't do anything at all but breathe.
After the seconds ticked by, the silence elongating until it was too much, too heavy, Clive finally pulled back. He quickly wiped the tears away from Joshua's cheeks—Clive's own tears—as he sat upright once more, sucking in a shuddering breath as he did so.
He suddenly felt very silly in the moment. Like he was a kid again, reading fairy tales to his little brother as he fell asleep on Clive's chest. In fact, he remembered the very one that had even spurred this idea in the first place: some story about true love's kiss waking a Princess from her spell-induced coma. And they'd certainly made their own little ending for it together, played it out so many times, always starting just before the kiss, every time...
Clive gazed down upon his sleeping brother, his face so beautiful and peaceful, ethereal and unreal in the moonlight. He stroked his hair out of his face, cleaned up some of the sweat from his forehead and neck; and while he did, he couldn't help but childishly wish that it all really was that easy, that Clive could kiss his brother awake again and everything would be all right.
But nothing was ever that easy.