"Of course you are," Essek whispers, breathy. He'd only just managed not to gasp at the sensation of his brother's teeth scraping lightly along his ear, and now he is struggling not to make an even more undignified noise as Verin's hand covers his cock, rubbing at him through the lace in a way that won't take long to get him hard.
Maybe he should have scolded him for touching without asking a moment ago. He's set a dangerous precedent.
As Verin shifts up onto his arm, Essek turns away again. There's no need to look over his shoulder when Verin is looming over him now, and this way he can turn his face into his pillow when Verin squeezes his firming cock and at least partially muffle the whimper that finally manages to escape his throat. His hips buck forward into his brother's palm then cant back to meet the roll of Verin's, and he takes a sharper breath through his nose. Verin's cock feels bigger than he's used to like this, the shape blunt and heavy with the fabric between them. Light, he wants it.
"So you have been punishing your fellow trainees for asking about me?" Essek sounds amused and curious, but most of all smug. "Is it really my honor you are protecting, dalnar?" he teases. As he grinds back against him, Essek leads his brother's hand to the sash at his waist so that he can open his peignoir properly. He is the one in control here, he reminds himself, no matter how good Verin's hands on him feel. "Or are you worried you'll slip in here one night and find me giving some other weary knight my patience and care? Because you don't want to share?"
Hearing the sound that Essek muffles with his pillow sends a jolt of excitement straight through him. He lets Essek guide his hand to the sash and with a deft tug Verin loosens it. That done, he pushes silk out of his way until he can feel lace again. Light, just dreaming of this body, of Essek, has gotten him off more nights than not while he's alone in the barracks.
"Yes," he murmurs, voice pitching lower as Verin kisses his brother's neck. Whether it's for Essek's honor or not, that is exactly what he's been doing. But Verin also really does oppose the way some of his peers talk about his brother and bruises make a lesson stick. He feels a hot spike of jealousy when Essek suggests Verin is worried about finding some unnamed knight here in his bed. He has no right to feel that way, and yet he cannot stop it. Verin gives a harder thrust against his brother and holds him tighter.
"Yes," he repeats, his voice tighter as he confesses. He cannot and will not keep Essek from seeking out someone should he want them, but he doesn't have to enjoy the thought. They have always belonged to each other, bound by something so few share. Verin can't even blame Essek for teasing him: he started it.
Whether from that simple but telling confirmation or Verin's mouth on his neck or the way Verin holds him possessively close while he ruts against him, a delighted shiver sweeps through Essek's body like lightning along his nerves, settling hot low in his belly and between his legs.
He likes that Verin wants to keep him for himself. He likes that Verin is willing to deter others, even his own cohort, his friends and fellow soldiers, with force if necessary. He loves this reminder of his importance and prevalence in his brother's life; there is no one else who could be what they are to each other. The idea that Essek could so easily welcome any other man into his confidence this way--that he would even want to--is laughable.
"Verin," he murmurs, adoring and pleased and a little--perhaps a little cruelly, given the seeming sincerity of his confession--amused. "Verin--let me go. Look at me." Essek clearly expects these commands to be followed quickly, and they are. He loves being held against Verin this way, but he would also like to make a point--and hopefully regain his composure in the process.
Essek slips out of his brother's arms and sits up, flicking the sheets aside as he does so. His peignoir hangs open at the front, revealing dark skin and darker lace. For all his strength, it takes little more than a hand on his shoulder to coax Verin onto his back. Now Essek leans over him, cradling the handsome face he loves more than any other in a graceful hand, palm cupping his jaw and fingers curled beneath it. As it so often is with Verin, his touch is affectionate but firm.
"Does that really worry you, dear one?" As he speaks, his other hand strokes its way tenderly--and appreciatively--down the center of Verin's chest, following the opening of his robe until he meets the tie holding it closed. Slim, dexterous fingers loosen the knot, then unravel it with two sharp, decisive tugs. Essek's eyes don't leave Verin's for a moment. "You know me better than that. I like to tease you..."
With the robe open, Essek's hand effortlessly sweeps down further, where this time he can be the one to squeeze the hard shape of Verin's cock.
"...but I have no inclination to indulge any other man's desire for me as I do yours. I take care of you this way because I love you." Sweetly slow, his cupped hand strokes Verin's erection through the soft linen of his pants. Essek is hard himself, though more confined by the lace of his smalls. "Because you are my sweet younger brother, and it pleases me to give you everything you want. Which includes me, doesn't it?"
It always has. If Essek has his way, it always will.
Essek speaks his name, gives his soft but utterly unyielding commands, and Verin can do nothing but do as he's told. He pushes himself up more so that Essek has room to move; when his brother presses a hand to his shoulder it's as effective as changing gravity. Verin lays back, utterly captivated by Essek as he leans over him and holds his jaw. Essek's hands are beautiful, elegant, and he is capable of a firm grip that makes Verin's cock throb. He feels utterly powerless in the face of Essek's will, and he's relieved as his brother offers that reassurance, the twist of anxiety and tension fading.
For a moment it's difficult to think, let alone answer, especially when Essek's hand squeezes and strokes his cock through the thin fabric of his sleep pants. Verin tries to hold back a sound, more practiced now in being quiet. He wants to trust up into his brother's touch, but he's held in place by the way Essek looks at him and holds his gaze.
It's only when Essek stops talking that Verin dares to reach for him. The hand closest to Essek slides over the impossibly soft skin of his thigh, pushing the peignoir's silk out of the way. If he gets chided, then it will be worth it.
"I love you," he answers, heavy and soft because it's true, and it has always been true. No one in this den has cared for him the way Essek has, no one has calmed his fears and anxieties or celebrated his victories in the same way. Essek has never been disappointed that he's simply Verin. Maybe his jealousy is unfounded, but the thought of it touches an anxiety he didn't really know he had.
Essek's gaze sharpens at that choked-back sound. Oh, he can do better than that. As he has so many times, Verin is going to need his help to stay quiet tonight.
"I know, my love," he soothes. Even the cutting edge of his resolve to strip Verin of whatever self-control he's learned in their time apart doesn't conflict with the genuine affection he shows to his brother, and his brother alone. "We belong only to each other."
At last Essek bends down to kiss him, using his hold on Verin's jaw to tilt his chin up. It feels like he has been waiting to do this all night. The kiss is gentle, but it feels no less like staking a claim. Though Verin has been his for a long time, Essek never tires of being reminded.
"You were impressive tonight," he murmurs, pulling back just far enough from Verin's lips. "You must know how proud of you I am."
Another kiss, and then Essek straightens, shrugs the peignoir from his shoulders. He knows how he looks; that is something for Verin (and only Verin) to enjoy, too. He undoes the ties on each hip keeping his brother's pants in place, and expertly eases them down and off once they are loose. As he suspected, Verin is wearing nothing beneath. The sight of his thick, strong thighs and his cock jutting up dark and hard between makes saliva pool in his mouth.
"Relax now, dearest. You have earned it," he promises, openly doting and subtly commanding. His hand moves to Verin's cock again, perfectly hot and steel-stiff and velvety against his palm. "Let me take care of you."
From his place kneeling by Verin's hip, Essek bends over his lap, briefly readjusts to scoot back an inch or two further, and then touches his painted lips to the tip of his cock. With his hand supporting the base and pointing the head up toward his mouth, his tongue swirls around the crown before his lips roll down over the head with a delicate suck. There is a flush high in Essek's cheeks; his eyes flutter closed and open again. His other hand rests on Verin's toned stomach, partly to discourage any sudden movement, but more to feel the satisfying flex of his abdominals when Verin tries not to move.
Verin tips his head up for the kiss, welcoming it as the first and the only one he's wanted all night. All day. He can't resist the urge to reach up, to gently touch Essek's cheek as they part again. He knows Essek is proud and that means more to him that so much of the other praise he's received today.
Essek slips out of his peignoir, allowing Verin to fully see what he's worn beneath all his layers. Verin knows that his brother dresses for himself, but he likes to believe that his brother chose these lacy underthings with the thought that Verin might see them. He wonders if Essek has worn them all day or if he changed upon returning to his rooms, anticipating an early-morning visitor. He tries to relax when Essek tells him to, but it's difficult when his brother's elegant hand finally curls around his bare cock. Light, he has missed that touch, perfect and soft and deft.
Verin is aching hard, and it's not the first time he's found himself in this state in his brother's bed; it wouldn't have been the first time that he arrived in this state, wanting badly to seek satisfaction and pleasure with Essek. It was never a matter of Essek having more experience, but that Verin adores him and trusts him. Perhaps also that Essek could explore with his own assured control - his little brother would never hurt him or disobey. Not much has changed.
Unthinking, he lifts a hand to his mouth, covering it to hold back a heavy moan as the wet heat of Essek's mouth takes the leaking head of his cock. His stomach and thighs tense to resist the sharp urge to thrust up. Verin remembers nights spent learning to hold back, to ensure Essek could move at his own pace as they explored each other.
A higher sound escapes him, a whine in the very back of his throat when Essek sucks just the head, his other hand resting over taut muscles, a reminder of his older brother's control. All it takes is a touch, a word. Still, Verin feels his cock throb with the building excitement, with the pleasure of finally feeling Essek's mouth. He forces himself to keep his eyes open, and he doesn't miss the blush coloring Essek's face. It is some relief to know that his brother is just as affected.
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Maybe he should have scolded him for touching without asking a moment ago. He's set a dangerous precedent.
As Verin shifts up onto his arm, Essek turns away again. There's no need to look over his shoulder when Verin is looming over him now, and this way he can turn his face into his pillow when Verin squeezes his firming cock and at least partially muffle the whimper that finally manages to escape his throat. His hips buck forward into his brother's palm then cant back to meet the roll of Verin's, and he takes a sharper breath through his nose. Verin's cock feels bigger than he's used to like this, the shape blunt and heavy with the fabric between them. Light, he wants it.
"So you have been punishing your fellow trainees for asking about me?" Essek sounds amused and curious, but most of all smug. "Is it really my honor you are protecting, dalnar?" he teases. As he grinds back against him, Essek leads his brother's hand to the sash at his waist so that he can open his peignoir properly. He is the one in control here, he reminds himself, no matter how good Verin's hands on him feel. "Or are you worried you'll slip in here one night and find me giving some other weary knight my patience and care? Because you don't want to share?"
no subject
"Yes," he murmurs, voice pitching lower as Verin kisses his brother's neck. Whether it's for Essek's honor or not, that is exactly what he's been doing. But Verin also really does oppose the way some of his peers talk about his brother and bruises make a lesson stick. He feels a hot spike of jealousy when Essek suggests Verin is worried about finding some unnamed knight here in his bed. He has no right to feel that way, and yet he cannot stop it. Verin gives a harder thrust against his brother and holds him tighter.
"Yes," he repeats, his voice tighter as he confesses. He cannot and will not keep Essek from seeking out someone should he want them, but he doesn't have to enjoy the thought. They have always belonged to each other, bound by something so few share. Verin can't even blame Essek for teasing him: he started it.
no subject
He likes that Verin wants to keep him for himself. He likes that Verin is willing to deter others, even his own cohort, his friends and fellow soldiers, with force if necessary. He loves this reminder of his importance and prevalence in his brother's life; there is no one else who could be what they are to each other. The idea that Essek could so easily welcome any other man into his confidence this way--that he would even want to--is laughable.
"Verin," he murmurs, adoring and pleased and a little--perhaps a little cruelly, given the seeming sincerity of his confession--amused. "Verin--let me go. Look at me." Essek clearly expects these commands to be followed quickly, and they are. He loves being held against Verin this way, but he would also like to make a point--and hopefully regain his composure in the process.
Essek slips out of his brother's arms and sits up, flicking the sheets aside as he does so. His peignoir hangs open at the front, revealing dark skin and darker lace. For all his strength, it takes little more than a hand on his shoulder to coax Verin onto his back. Now Essek leans over him, cradling the handsome face he loves more than any other in a graceful hand, palm cupping his jaw and fingers curled beneath it. As it so often is with Verin, his touch is affectionate but firm.
"Does that really worry you, dear one?" As he speaks, his other hand strokes its way tenderly--and appreciatively--down the center of Verin's chest, following the opening of his robe until he meets the tie holding it closed. Slim, dexterous fingers loosen the knot, then unravel it with two sharp, decisive tugs. Essek's eyes don't leave Verin's for a moment. "You know me better than that. I like to tease you..."
With the robe open, Essek's hand effortlessly sweeps down further, where this time he can be the one to squeeze the hard shape of Verin's cock.
"...but I have no inclination to indulge any other man's desire for me as I do yours. I take care of you this way because I love you." Sweetly slow, his cupped hand strokes Verin's erection through the soft linen of his pants. Essek is hard himself, though more confined by the lace of his smalls. "Because you are my sweet younger brother, and it pleases me to give you everything you want. Which includes me, doesn't it?"
It always has. If Essek has his way, it always will.
no subject
For a moment it's difficult to think, let alone answer, especially when Essek's hand squeezes and strokes his cock through the thin fabric of his sleep pants. Verin tries to hold back a sound, more practiced now in being quiet. He wants to trust up into his brother's touch, but he's held in place by the way Essek looks at him and holds his gaze.
It's only when Essek stops talking that Verin dares to reach for him. The hand closest to Essek slides over the impossibly soft skin of his thigh, pushing the peignoir's silk out of the way. If he gets chided, then it will be worth it.
"I love you," he answers, heavy and soft because it's true, and it has always been true. No one in this den has cared for him the way Essek has, no one has calmed his fears and anxieties or celebrated his victories in the same way. Essek has never been disappointed that he's simply Verin. Maybe his jealousy is unfounded, but the thought of it touches an anxiety he didn't really know he had.
"No one could ever be what you are to me, Essek."
no subject
"I know, my love," he soothes. Even the cutting edge of his resolve to strip Verin of whatever self-control he's learned in their time apart doesn't conflict with the genuine affection he shows to his brother, and his brother alone. "We belong only to each other."
At last Essek bends down to kiss him, using his hold on Verin's jaw to tilt his chin up. It feels like he has been waiting to do this all night. The kiss is gentle, but it feels no less like staking a claim. Though Verin has been his for a long time, Essek never tires of being reminded.
"You were impressive tonight," he murmurs, pulling back just far enough from Verin's lips. "You must know how proud of you I am."
Another kiss, and then Essek straightens, shrugs the peignoir from his shoulders. He knows how he looks; that is something for Verin (and only Verin) to enjoy, too. He undoes the ties on each hip keeping his brother's pants in place, and expertly eases them down and off once they are loose. As he suspected, Verin is wearing nothing beneath. The sight of his thick, strong thighs and his cock jutting up dark and hard between makes saliva pool in his mouth.
"Relax now, dearest. You have earned it," he promises, openly doting and subtly commanding. His hand moves to Verin's cock again, perfectly hot and steel-stiff and velvety against his palm. "Let me take care of you."
From his place kneeling by Verin's hip, Essek bends over his lap, briefly readjusts to scoot back an inch or two further, and then touches his painted lips to the tip of his cock. With his hand supporting the base and pointing the head up toward his mouth, his tongue swirls around the crown before his lips roll down over the head with a delicate suck. There is a flush high in Essek's cheeks; his eyes flutter closed and open again. His other hand rests on Verin's toned stomach, partly to discourage any sudden movement, but more to feel the satisfying flex of his abdominals when Verin tries not to move.
no subject
Essek slips out of his peignoir, allowing Verin to fully see what he's worn beneath all his layers. Verin knows that his brother dresses for himself, but he likes to believe that his brother chose these lacy underthings with the thought that Verin might see them. He wonders if Essek has worn them all day or if he changed upon returning to his rooms, anticipating an early-morning visitor. He tries to relax when Essek tells him to, but it's difficult when his brother's elegant hand finally curls around his bare cock. Light, he has missed that touch, perfect and soft and deft.
Verin is aching hard, and it's not the first time he's found himself in this state in his brother's bed; it wouldn't have been the first time that he arrived in this state, wanting badly to seek satisfaction and pleasure with Essek. It was never a matter of Essek having more experience, but that Verin adores him and trusts him. Perhaps also that Essek could explore with his own assured control - his little brother would never hurt him or disobey. Not much has changed.
Unthinking, he lifts a hand to his mouth, covering it to hold back a heavy moan as the wet heat of Essek's mouth takes the leaking head of his cock. His stomach and thighs tense to resist the sharp urge to thrust up. Verin remembers nights spent learning to hold back, to ensure Essek could move at his own pace as they explored each other.
A higher sound escapes him, a whine in the very back of his throat when Essek sucks just the head, his other hand resting over taut muscles, a reminder of his older brother's control. All it takes is a touch, a word. Still, Verin feels his cock throb with the building excitement, with the pleasure of finally feeling Essek's mouth. He forces himself to keep his eyes open, and he doesn't miss the blush coloring Essek's face. It is some relief to know that his brother is just as affected.