A/N: Hello, my loves! It's freezing outside and that means it's story time! Enjoy! This isn't edited yet, but I'll polish it more in the future ❤️ Please like and comment ^^
Chapter 3.
Deon had been falling asleep on his watch when the sun scorched his cheeks. He blinked rapidly, trying to wake. He'd been given the night shift six days in a row and he was exhausted.
He stretched his arms above his head, feeling his back crack satisfyingly, and looked up.
A white beach glowed in the distance and he jumped to his feet.
"Land!" He shouted and ran to bang on the windows.
Gell was up first and leaned over the edge with bright eyes. Even if he was sad to see Deon go, land meant food, a real bed and girls.
The water was crystal clear and beyond the cliffs the palace gleamed in blue and gold spirals.
Sleek white fishing boats breezed past them - and Peraan men with brown skin and pale eyes caught their ropes and tied them to the dock.
A gangplank was attached to the ship and Deon forced himself to unload cargo, when all he wanted to do was find Alen. The instant the last crate was down, the chief tossed Deon a coin and let him go.
He rushed onto the sand and followed a path of white stairs carved into the cliffs.
"Wait!"
Deon turned reluctantly and Gell pulled him into a hug. He stiffened and patted the boy's back awkwardly. He'd never taken Gell up on his offer, but they had remained friendly throughout the voyage.
"We sail in a week." Gell said and released Deon to smile down at him with pinched eyes. "If you need to, you can always come back."
Deon nodded. He hoped more than anything that it didn't come to that. But Gell had been good to him and he wished the boy well.
He reached the top of the stairs and stepped onto a dusty street, bustling with people in colorful robes. Vendors sold jewelry and sweet smelling fruits, shouting out offers in a foreign tongue.
Animals as large as horses carried people on saddles, but they were black with paws and tipped ears. A child ran into him, while he was dazed, and his coin was gone.
Nearly three hours later he reached the palace. The sun beat down on his head and his throat was dry with dust.
Magnificent fountains flanked the gates and he was tempted to dunk his head into the water. He eyed the muscular guards, with spears in their hands and swords at their hips, and thought better of it.
They watched Deon expressionlessly when he approached. He didn't know Peraan customs and prayed he wasn't about to lose his neck. He greeted them like Telenien royalty, bowing his head and touching both hands to his chest.
There was a long moment of silence, where Deon stared at the marble beneath his feet and waited for permission to speak.
The white stone was nearly blinding in the sun and he was extremely conscious of his lice infested hair and unwashed clothes.
A spear touched beneath his chin and lifted his head. The guard's pale eyes widened and he surged forward, gripping Deon's arm.
He barked out a sentence and Deon was instantly surrounded. His arms were forced behind his back and he was shoved inside the gates. Hope warred with fear when he was dragged through a temple, into a garden.
A clear pond caught the sun dabbling through the trees and white flowers perfumed the air.
A young man lounged on a chaise. A broad gold collar draped across his shoulders and two boys were moving between his long legs. One of them had white-blonde curls. The other had smooth strands, dark as night. Deon's breath caught.
The guard pushed Deon to his knees and spoke.
The man looked up, brows furrowing and mouth slightly open. He had a handsome face with black hair falling to his shoulders.
"Seya." He spoke and one of the heads lifted from his crotch.
Deon made a choked sound and his brother turned towards him. His lids were painted gold and his red mouth was wet.
Alen's eyes widened and he leapt to his feet. He was nude, white skin gleaming with oils and he wore only a gold belt with his cock protruding from a ring.
He looked completely barbaric, but Deon's eyes instantly returned to that beloved face and held. Alen's lips shaped his name silently and then he was sprinting across the lawn, black hair streaming behind him.
He reached Deon in moments and fell to his knees, throwing his arms around his brother's neck.
The painful grip on Deon's wrists vanished and he wrapped Alen in his arms. His heart sang and he buried his filthy face in silky hair smelling of sweet oils.
"...Len." The name ended in a ragged sob and Alen's arms tightened until it hurt.
Eventually, Deon became aware of voices speaking. Alen's face was pressed against his throat, inhaling deeply. Completely uncaring that Deon was covered in grime and saltwater.
"Stand!" A voice commanded in heavily accented Telenien.
Alen reluctantly withdrew and pulled Deon to his feet.
The young man was standing, watching them. A short white kilt wrapped around his lean hips and the blonde stood a little behind him. Deon recognized him as Roi.
"This is your brother?" The prince asked and Alen nodded, arm clutching Deon's waist.
"Yes. We're twins." Alen said. Deon looked a fright and it might not be as apparent as it usually was.
"And he's come all this way?" The prince plucked a cup off a gold platter and sipped. Deon tried not to eye it too desperately. "He cares for you that much?"
Alen leaned against Deon and they smiled at each other.
"Too much." The prince shook his head and moved back to the chaise, gesturing the blonde with him. "You'll be distracted. Take him away."
Icy terror cracked through Deon's chest and Alen gasped when the guards pulled them apart.
Deon snarled and fought like an animal. His arms were trapped, but he could still kick and bite. A hand gripped his hair and ripped his head back. A blade snicked.
"No!" Alen wailed and clawed his way through the men, who seemed reluctant to put their hands on him.
"You disobey me!" The prince roared.
"Wait!" Alen reached Deon, gripped his face between slender hands and kissed his mouth.
Deon tensed with surprise and his heart thumped. Warm breaths puffed against his cheek and Alen's mouth was velvety and damp.
Their surroundings faded away and Deon's eyes shut. Alen lingered for long moments, until their lips parted softly.
Deon's breath released in a gush he hadn't been aware he was holding and he stared at his brother. But Alen was watching the prince.
The prince's light eyes were riveted on them, jeweled fingers gripping Roi's curls between his legs. He spoke shortly and the hands on Deon fell away.
—————————————
"This way." Alen led Deon through marble halls, each one containing a sapphire fountain that cooled the stone. They were holding hands, as if they were children again.
Deon felt lightheaded. He couldn't process his brother's appearance, their surroundings or the kiss. It was too overwhelming.
They entered a chamber full of pools. A few boys were bathing and turned to look at them curiously.
A group of women in sheer skirts approached. They muttered at Deon's rags and one woman pulled out a knife and cut them clean off his body. Another spotted the vermin in his hair and uttered a harsh exclamation.
Deon was dragged away to a basin and his hair was washed with a harsh mixture that seared his scalp and made his eyes water. Afterwards they combed his hair thoroughly and rinsed it with a cooling tincture.
Deon sighed in relief. Judging by Alen's gasp beside him, his brother was getting the same treatment.
Next, Deon's skin was covered in a clay-like paste and scrubbed with hard bristles. A balm soothed his sunburned face and shoulders and his nails were trimmed.
Deon had just begun to relax, when warm sugar drizzled over his groin. He squawked out a protest and the women couldn't hold him down. Alen hurriedly intervened.
With his brother gripping his hand, Deon allowed his tormentors to rip off his body hair and coat him in fragrant oil.
"It's not that bad." Alen laughed and led Deon limping from the pools.
They moved up a flight of turquoise stairs, into a room with a luxurious bed shielded by gold curtains. Silk pillows surrounded a low table decked with platters of fruit, vegetables and meat.
Deon fell on the meal. He drank three large cups of fruit infused water and ate until his stomach bulged. Everything was fresh and heavenly after months of gruel and jerky.
Alen chewed more slowly, watching his brother with warm eyes.
"Sometimes, he sends me wine." Alen said proudly.
The food suddenly felt leaden in Deon's stomach and he tried to brace himself.
"Len, are you happy here?" He asked carefully.
Alen read Deon's face and his smile thinned.
"I am. I think you could be too." Alen pushed back his hair and Deon saw an emerald sparkle beneath his ear. "It's a good life and he's kind. To me."
Deon's chest tightened and he set down the cup, before he accidentally broke it.
"In exchange for..."
"I like it!" Alen snapped.
A muscle jumped in his jaw and Deon had to close his eyes and count to ten. His hands began shaking.
"...De."
He heard Alen shift over the pillows and then his brother was pushing into his lap, gold belt digging into his pelvis.
"I never thought you would leave. You've been so brave." Gentle fingers smoothed the hair from his neck and warm lips pressed to his pulse. Resting a moment, before sliding to his ear. "So brave."
Deon's cock hardened and there was no way Alen missed it.
In the back of his mind he could hear his father shouting. Saying it was wrong for brothers to hold hands. That Alen was too feminine. Too weak. Beating them with fists and belts, until they no longer dared to smile at each other across the table.
His heart sped up and he wanted to fight someone. But not Alen. A sob caught in his throat.
"I have you." Alen stroked Deon's hair and hugged him tight. "I'm here."
And that was what Alen always used to say when they were children and Deon's fits began.
"I'm here."
Deon turned his face into his brother's neck, breathing in Alen's familiar scent beneath the perfume. The smell of safety. Slowly, his anger dispersed and he could breathe again.
Alen felt the change and pushed Deon back against the pillows.
"Len..."
Alen straddled his hips and kissed Deon's chest, soft hair sliding over his skin. Deon's cock jerked and his breath shuddered out.
"We're brothers."
Alen sat up and reached behind him to undo his belt. His ivory shaft bobbed against his flat belly, glossy tip as red as his mouth. When he carefully pulled off the ring, a trickle of precum caught on the gold.
"Len..." It was a plea.
Alen looked down at him, eyes suddenly fierce beneath his lashes.
"Why?" He whispered. "Why can't I love you?"
Alen lowered slowly and they both shuddered at the contact. Skin against skin, groins pressing. Alen wrapped his arms around Deon's neck and rocked his hips.
"Why, De?" His brother's voice cracked on a sob and the pressure exploded.
Deon came in ragged pants. Alen trembled and slick gushed between them. Perfectly in sync, like they had always been.
Alen softened on top of him, breaths heavy against his throat and skin damp. Deon's body shimmered with aftershocks and his heart beat warm in his chest.
It felt right holding Alen this way. Like they were finally as close as they were meant to be. But tears were running down his cheeks, because he knew it was wrong.
Alen caressed Deon's chest and lifted his head to press their brows together. His dark eyes were wet, but he was smiling. I love you, his expression said.
Deon's lips parted and his arms tightened around Alen's waist. I love you, too. More than anything.
Comments (5)
See all