[Joshua feels - oh, better than he ever has in his life. Content, perfectly so, floating in the aftermath of that bliss. All the more so because Clive is there with him. He'll cling to those few moments for as long as he can: Clive's breath against his neck, that muffled cry, the way his body flexed and released, the feel of him in Joshua's hand. Knowing that he was part of that pleasure, the reason for it.
He's never felt like this before, and he knows it isn't only because he's never done this before. It wouldn't have been the same with anyone else, wouldn't have felt so perfect, so incredible. He's always loved Clive, since he was a boy who knew nothing of pain or sorrow, but somewhere along the way it changed, became something he knows it shouldn't have. He always will love Clive, no matter what else might happen. But Joshua is in love with him too, utterly lost, despite all the reasons he shouldn't be.
But this moment, his breath matching Clive, the quiet perfection of it - this is the closest thing to real happiness that Joshua can think of.]
I love you. [Said with the same certainty as before, without the passion clouding his words, without any doubt of what he means. Joshua just wants Clive to hear it. Wants him to know that he means it, that he will never regret any of this. Whatever the world brings them - Joshua isn't going to let go of him.
Even if he is distracted only a moment later.]
Clive. [His reaction to Clive taking his dirty hand, putting his mouth to it - it's the most scandalized Joshua's managed to sound all night, and even then, there's a gentleness to it that's far more affectionate than horrified.] You needn't do that.
[But he doesn't pull his hand away. He'd let Clive do just about anything he wanted right then, Joshua knows, and that -
Rather than disgust, he feels the faintest kindling of interest. Not anything real, young as he is Joshua has always lacked stamina, and this is no different. But even so, Clive's mouth on his fingers does something to him. He certainly doesn't have it in him to stop Clive.]
[ He might be the happiest man in the world, right then, to hear Joshua confess to him again. I love you, as if it's the most natural thing in the world to say. And maybe it is― for them, at least. Devotion and loyalty and love. Joshua is all Clive has, and all Clive will need, even if Joshua loses the Phoenix tomorrow.
High-brow thoughts, as he does low-brow things. Clive licks a long stripe along Joshua's palm, right along his lifeline, and smiles. ] No, I don't. [ Need to, he means. ] But I want to.
[ And that's a bit more of the Clive from childhood, when he had more leave to teasingly and harmlessly push back. He wouldn't be caught dead speaking out of turn in the company of their subjects (gods know that he hates the rumors that Ifrit is the one that controls the Phoenix), but right now―
―he thinks he's permitted. One last lick along the dip where thumb meets index, and Clive relinquishes Joshua's hand. ]
...I should fetch you a washbasin. And some clean cloth. [ He presses a kiss along Joshua's temple, and slowly, slowly peels himself from his brother with the sort of bone-deep reluctance that makes him reaffirm that, yes, this is what he wants. The guilt is still there, sitting in the pit of his stomach, but it doesn't color the way he touches Joshua anymore; he can't, now that he knows that their affections are mutual.
He loves Joshua. Irreversibly, and inexorably. Tomorrow, he will have to pretend that he doesn't want to kiss Joshua in witness of Greagor and every other god that shadows their footsteps, and will have to relinquish his brother's company so that others may have it, as much as it'll burn Clive to see the Sanbrequian elite fall upon his beautiful brother like so much flies on honey.
None of them will deserve Joshua. They tried to kill him. But peace is more important than Clive's still-seething anger towards the men who ever dared turn a sword against Joshua, and so, Clive will let his brother do what he must. ]
It won't be but a moment. ...I'm not running away.
[He feels Clive’s loss immediately, the warmth and comfort of his nearness, that gentle touch. Joshua could easily have pressed close and fallen asleep just like that. He was weary from the ride already, and now he feels that deep contentment and peace that would be so easy to listen to.
But Clive is right, as he so often is. If they fall asleep like this - covered in the mess they’ve made of themselves - they’ll certainly regret it in the morning. Just because Joshua can’t bring him to care about such things right now, when he’s warm and happy in a way he never thought he could be, doesn’t mean they don’t matter.]
Mmm. Come back before I get cold.
[There’s a playful affection to his words. It feels easy, though he knows it shouldn’t - he knows he should feel some hesitation about slipping so easily from treating Clive like a brother to treating him like a lover. But it comes easily, enough so that Joshua knows that will only make things more dangerous.
All of Rosaria already knows he favors Clive. He refused to allow Clive to be punished for Ifrit’s actions, despite what the nobles of Rosaria and Clive himself wanted. (Joshua still has no doubt that this was the right decision, thinks that Clive has punished himself far more than he ever needed to.) He insisted that Clive be given his rightful position as Lord Commander, and he’s always made a point of treating his brother with the respect he deserves - and subtly making it clear to the rest of the court that they ought to as well, at least in Joshua’s hearing.
There is no doubt in anyone’s mind that Joshua loves his brother. But how much more difficult will it be now, when he looks at Clive with different eyes, when he knows Clive’s touch? It isn’t as if he’ll be able to give Clive a parting kiss when he rides off to battle, like so many of the soldiers’ wives do. He’ll have to act no different than ever in public, and save everything else for these private moments.
At least it won’t be terribly strange for Clive to be in his chambers alone with him. At least he’s already known to be affectionate towards his brother - no one will think it odd if Joshua smiles at him, or touches his shoulder, or lingers in his company a bit longer than most. Those were all things he already did, for better or for worse.
He can smell Clive on the sheets, and he wants to press his face to them, breathe in. He wants to curl around Clive and not let go, wants Clive’s arms around him. Wants to see him smile, and give him more moments where he can relax. In Joshua’s arms, preferably.]
When we reach Sanbreque, I will ensure your chambers are as near mine as possible.
[Not an odd request, for a ruler and his sworn shield visiting a nation they’ve so recently been at war with. Likely he won’t even need to request it, but - Joshua will be certain.]
[ All of Rosaria knows that the Rosfields are inseparable. In a way, Clive himself has made that fact known, ever since Joshua granted him mercy: that Ifrit will never transgress again, and that he will remain ever by the Phoenix's side as both his sword and shield. Sir Wade calls it 'overkill'－ "Clive, it's just a member of the merchant's guild asking for a trade permit, your presence isn't required during the hearing"－ but the normalization of his presence near Joshua serves as a deterrent, and he'll make sure that the Sanbrequians also remain informed that this is standard practice for the both of them.
Despite this shift, which Joshua seems to be taking swimmingly to (and is even more radiant for it, tousled and glowing), Clive will always be his protector as well. It's just that, well.
Now, Clive has an excuse to swat other kinds of flies.
He smiles and sighs, low and fond, as he reaches sideways to sift his fingers through blond hair one more time before he gets up, finding his trousers amidst the mess he's made of his clothes on the floor. ]
When did you become such a troublemaker? [ Says the one who cracked first. A gentle tease, as he decides to forgo the idea of a shirt entirely, electing to leave the room in nothing but his pants and a pair of slippers. They're all winding down to rest, it shouldn't be so scandalous. ] You'll be the death of me.
[ Still smiling, he spares Joshua one last glance before stepping out－ nearly tripping over the dinner tray in the process, cursing softly under his breath－ to play fetch. The owner of the cottage's wife finds him outside and does look a little scandalized by the state of Clive's undress, but kindly provides him with a few washcloths that he takes back to the room with the basin full of clean water.
He returns, objects in tow, and scoots the tray inside with one foot (poor manners, the kind he never shows in front of anyone but Joshua). He gravitates back towards his brother quietly, and bids him roll onto his back so that Clive can make himself useful with the cloths. Careful and doting, as ever.
After a few seconds of gentle silence: ]
...You know that you mean everything to me, Joshua. [ Softly. ] Nothing will ever change this, no matter what form our relationship takes.
[He certainly doesn't mind watching Clive leave in that state - though the moment he does, Joshua feels a brief spike of possessiveness. Of course, that's something he can't indulge, not over such a simple thing, not when plenty of people will see Clive like that - he'll have to content himself with knowing that they might look, but he is allowed to touch. It's a pleasant thought.
More pleasant when Clive returns, though, and Joshua can look at him again. He lets Clive take care of him, enjoying the tender care - another selfish, greedy impulse, when he could just as easily clean himself. He's perfectly capable. But Clive wants to, and Joshua wants every bit of Clive that he can get, so of course he'll allow it. Of course he'll enjoy it.]
You mean everything to me, as well.
[A quiet truth that he knows he must never confess to anyone else. Rosaria should mean everything to him. But if the kingdom fell, and he still had Clive, he would survive. If he lost Clive, even if it won him Rosaria, safe forever, something would shatter in Joshua. He would do his duty, he's been raised for that, but he would have nothing left but that.
Joshua reaches out, running gentle fingers through Clive's hair. Indulging himself, now that he can. It wouldn't have been so terribly odd before - but now he can do it without worry, he can touch Clive and know that Clive understand what he means.]
I know that things - won't be easy. But my feelings for you won't change. [The part of Joshua that's a hopeless romantic, the part that loves tales and songs even though he knows how cruel the world can be, wants to believe that happiness is possible for them. That he can find a way to avoid the marriage that is expected of him, that he can be with Clive, even if it must always remain a secret. He wants to try. He doesn't want to break Clive's heart - or his own.] If it becomes too much, too painful... please tell me.
[He never wants Clive to suffer for this. They are already doing something they shouldn't, something the world would see as awful. Clive has already punished himself so much - for Ifrit, for Phoenix Gate, and Joshua knows he has punished himself for the feelings they share, too. That much of a burden he hopes to lift, and to keep it from ever crushing him again. He'll do what he must to make that real.]
[ Clive is aware that he should also feel more guilty about where his priorities lie (Joshua, then Rosaria), but the truth of the matter is that he has already almost lost his brother once, and the experience of it has already shattered him.
He runs the washcloth over Joshua's stomach, cleaning the last of the mess that he'd made on perfect, unblemished skin, and kisses over Joshua's navel once he's done. He savors the feeling of those gentle fingers combing through his hair, and flicks his gaze upwards towards Joshua's imploring eyes, holding his gaze throughout that last request. ]
You could never hurt me.
[ With perfect, unflinching conviction. An echo of what Joshua has always told him, but with more certitude. It will never be the case that Clive suffers because of Joshua; he will suffer gladly for Joshua, but not because his brother is the root cause of said suffering. There is a clear, diamond distinction there in Clive's head, and maybe it's the case that no one will understand it but Joshua. ]
I would lose my title, my Eikon, my name, if that's what it took to keep you. I need nothing else.
[ Too intense, most would say. This is not what a normal man would say, even to a normal lover. But, again, the events of Phoenix Gate have already fractured something in Clive irreversibly; he already knows that he won't survive a second time.
With that said, he sets the basin and cloths aside to slide back next to Joshua, to pull him back into the warmth of his arms and to pull the now-rumpled blanket around both of their bodies. It wouldn't do if Joshua caught cold. ]
[It shouldn’t soothe him to hear words like that. He shouldn’t want that sort of thing from Clive - should refuse, tell him that he deserves better. And he does deserve better, that much Joshua knows to be true. He deserves a love he doesn’t have to fear for, he deserves to never have to doubt or worry. Joshua can’t give him that, as much as he will try to, as much as he will fight for what peace they might find together. There will always be pressures on them. There will always be that fear of discovery.
Clive deserves better. Of course he does. But he deserves a choice, too, and so does Joshua. If they’ve both chosen each other, despite the danger, the fear of what might come, Joshua can’t tell him no. He can’t refuse that choice. After all, isn’t he choosing the same thing?
He curls into Clive’s embrace, sliding his arms around his brother in turn, holding him close enough to feel his warmth, hear his heartbeat. He could stay like this forever, he thinks, and be happy.]
I don’t want you to have to lose anything for me. Never.
[Joshua is tired, but he struggles against the weariness. As if, if he lets himself sleep, this will all disappear.
He knows it won’t. When he wakes, Clive will be there, and they’ll have to begin finding their own path through all of this. But he doesn’t want this night to slip away from him, not yet. Just a little longer.]
Thank you. [His voice is soft.] For tonight. I didn’t think - I could have this.
[Joshua didn’t think he could be happy. Not like this, not with someone he should never be with - the only person he’s ever wanted.]
[ Clive knows that the weight of their choice won't always be easy to bear. The terms of their lives will press down on them, and they will have to hold themselves strong against storms and strife. It should be a daunting thought, but Clive finds that he doesn't fear it at all－ it seems possible with Joshua at his side, shining and brilliant, always the brightest pinpoint of light in all of the world's darkness.
His brother, his birthright. Clive sees how Joshua fights sleep, and it makes him feel soft despite Joshua thanking him for something that most people would have Clive's head for. You're welcome is decidedly not the correct response to "thank you for ravaging me", but it's hard to fall back on misery when all Clive feels is the sort of happiness that most men would be hard-pressed to find over the course of many lifetimes.
So he strokes blond hair, smoothing sweat-mussed strands back into their proper place, tickling the unruly ends that act a little like his own unruly bangs. Small similarities, here and there. ]
I'll forgive myself for my lack of restraint, then. [ A soft smile, reaffirming. ] And swear to you that you'll never doubt again.
[ With that, he takes one of Joshua's hands, momentarily dislodging it from where it's looped around him to kiss along its knuckles. Like another oath pledged, another sworn promise. ]
The only trouble now, [ is warmer, more lighthearted. ] Will be how we exercise our collective patience.
[ It's been years of not-so-casual repression. This new development is going to be hell for Clive, who is a poor liar on a good day. ]
[After everything, it feels like his heart shouldn't thump faster when Clive does things like that, gentle shows of affection unasked for but always wanted. It does, though, and he smiles with it, a soft look that verges on adoring. Joshua thinks it's likely he'll always feel like this when he looks at Clive - like the sun has come out, just for him.]
I'm afraid I don't have much of that. [There's a lightness to his voice too, but unfortunately, it's also the simple truth. Normally, Joshua can be quite patient - he could read for hours if allowed, and he's begun to cultivate a bit of a reputation for being a careful listener when he's needed to decide a matter for the kingdom or among its people. But when it comes to Clive - that, he's not sure he can manage.] Just look at you. It'll be a trial to keep my hands off you.
[He will behave (or do his best to), he knows the danger they've put themselves in with this. He would never put Clive at risk. But it's going to be difficult, and when they're alone, well, Joshua knows better than to make any promises about that. There's so much that he wants, and now that he knows Clive wants that too, how is he supposed to hold back?]
I haven't... I've never done anything like this before. [He probably doesn't need to tell Clive that. Surely it was obvious, his inexperience and his curiosity.] You'll have to tell me what you like. What you want.
[Joshua, of course, wants to learn. What Clive likes, and what he himself does, though he certainly has not the slightest complaints so far. He'll have to be careful when he dresses tomorrow - but luckily, it's not his habit to wear clothing that shows much skin at all, especially when he's meant to be acting formally as the Archduke. It shouldn't be difficult to cover up the marks Clive left.
The marks Joshua asked for. He's a little embarrassed thinking of it now, how shameless he was, but he's even more satisfied.]
[ God, Clive knows that there's a special place in hell for him when he finally gets there: it's wicked, the frisson of pleasure he feels whenever Joshua expresses that Clive is his first for all things related to sex. It has nothing to do with a preference for virginal partners, and has everything to do with the far-worse desire to claim Joshua in every way that matters; Clive is definitively unholy for holding onto it.
He sighs. Not aggravated nor exasperated, but just to release tension. For a moment, he flares hotter than he was a moment ago, and his voice pitches lower when he lets go of Joshua's hand to stroke his cheek in a way that's neither platonic or chaste. ]
Is that what you want, Joshua? [ His bare chest presses along Joshua's, pulse for pulse. ] For me to corrupt you however I wish?
[ His sweet, beautiful brother. The Archduke of Rosaria, the Phoenix's Dominant. A young man most people could only dream of being in the presence of, let alone touching in any way. The same young man currently in bed with Clive, saying things that make Clive want to roll back on top of him to kiss him breathless.
He won't, of course. Joshua isn't some thing for him to manhandle and treat like some common puppet. But he'd like to impress upon Joshua that, yes, he does want for him the way a man would a lover, and so he presses his mouth to Joshua's jaw, almost letting teeth scour over a very visible part of him.
The misbehaving only lasts a moment. Clive draws back, and kisses Joshua's forehead in compensation. ]
...None of my past experiences have given me an idea of what I like. [ Mostly because none of them have mattered at all. ] We can find our preferences together.
[How Joshua loves that - the affection, the carefully banked desire. He can't get enough of it. He does smile, though, at the thought of Clive corrupting him, or anyone. Clive, his doting brother who has never been anything but devoted and kind, who has given all of himself for Rosaria and Joshua, who has been so careful with him even now. Clive, who would never have touched Joshua again if Joshua hadn't wanted it, after that first moment his control broke.
He knows that Clive might think of himself that way - might still think of his own desires as dirty, wrong. And perhaps they are, given their blood ties, but if so then Joshua is no different. Clive has done nothing to corrupt him, done nothing that Joshua hasn't welcomed, encouraged.]
Perhaps I'll be the one corrupting you, then. [He leans in close to kiss Clive, gently, sweetly. If there's a hint of fire there, well - that will always be there, no matter how weary Joshua might find himself. He'll always look at Clive and want him.] You have always been so proper, and I the one who broke the rules so that I could follow you around.
[The one who crept into Clive's room at night for comfort, when he had nightmares. The one who would slip out under his tutor's - or mother's - nose to watch Clive practice, to cheer him on. Clive let him, of course, Clive wasn't the one who scolded him when he got caught. They're both at fault, perhaps, for how they've ended up. But Joshua isn't going to let Clive take the blame, not when he's just as guilty.
He rests his head on the pillow, gaze settling gently on Clive. Just looking at him, appreciating his beauty, his strength. His brother, his protector. More than that - his twin flame, Ifrit burning as brightly as the Phoenix. Sometimes Joshua thinks they call to one another.]
[ Twin flames, life and death. Clive never knew happiness until Joshua was born, and never would again if he loses him. He will never pledge himself to another, not even for appearance's sake, not even if it would be the right thing to do as the firstborn of the Rosfield line.
(More crudely, he has a feeling he wouldn't be able to get hard for anyone else now. Joshua has well and truly ruined him, and he doesn't regret it one bit.)
Clive combs through Joshua's hair again, soothing him to relax into their pillows, to settle against the mattress. He's no longer the child who would cough into his hands after every outdoors excursion, who would catch cold if exposed to the nighttime chill, but Clive still minds his comfort more than anything else. ]
And I would know what pleases you. [ Because god, that's all Clive wants. For Joshua to be happy in this life, for him to inhabit himself as Joshua Rosfield, and not only the expectations placed on him like an iron mantle. ] It may be my turn to steal into your room and into your bed, now.
[ Scaling walls, climbing balconies. A sweet fantasy, utterly taboo.
Clive tucks Joshua closer to the cradle of his chest to warm him, and tangles their legs together. ]
Now rest. We ride early tomorrow, if we're to reach Oriflamme by nightfall.
[Said with a smile. Though it likely won't be so difficult, back at Rosalith - Clive's chambers are not far from Joshua's, and they're in each other's company often enough that it wouldn't be terribly remarkable for Clive to visit him late at night. To discuss matters of state, or the security of the country, or - well, there are a hundred excuses. They'll have to be careful, it will be dangerous, but it won't be impossible.
He presses close to Clive, eased by his warmth and that gentle affection. Clive is right, they do need to rest. It will be a long ride, followed by quite a lot of delicate diplomacy. Joshua was raised for this, and he doesn't think he's bad at it - but Sanbreque will be his greatest test thus far. If he can secure a true peace between their countries, he will have succeeded far beyond what most of the nobles of Rosaria expect. Even if he doesn't, he must lay the foundations for future attempts.
It will be difficult. For a little while, he was able to think only of Clive - to forget the pressures bearing down on both of them. He loves Clive all the more for that, for giving him some peace of his own. Having Clive at his side in Sanbreque will keep him safe, but it will keep him strong, too.]
Yes, you're right. And you must rest too.
[Clive is, after all, the one who actually fought today. Joshua might have healed his wounds, but his powers can't lift the weariness of exertion. They'll both need to be in good form tomorrow, just in case.]
Good night, Clive.
[Joshua's voice is already softening, already slipping into sleep.]
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He's never felt like this before, and he knows it isn't only because he's never done this before. It wouldn't have been the same with anyone else, wouldn't have felt so perfect, so incredible. He's always loved Clive, since he was a boy who knew nothing of pain or sorrow, but somewhere along the way it changed, became something he knows it shouldn't have. He always will love Clive, no matter what else might happen. But Joshua is in love with him too, utterly lost, despite all the reasons he shouldn't be.
But this moment, his breath matching Clive, the quiet perfection of it - this is the closest thing to real happiness that Joshua can think of.]
I love you. [Said with the same certainty as before, without the passion clouding his words, without any doubt of what he means. Joshua just wants Clive to hear it. Wants him to know that he means it, that he will never regret any of this. Whatever the world brings them - Joshua isn't going to let go of him.
Even if he is distracted only a moment later.]
Clive. [His reaction to Clive taking his dirty hand, putting his mouth to it - it's the most scandalized Joshua's managed to sound all night, and even then, there's a gentleness to it that's far more affectionate than horrified.] You needn't do that.
[But he doesn't pull his hand away. He'd let Clive do just about anything he wanted right then, Joshua knows, and that -
Rather than disgust, he feels the faintest kindling of interest. Not anything real, young as he is Joshua has always lacked stamina, and this is no different. But even so, Clive's mouth on his fingers does something to him. He certainly doesn't have it in him to stop Clive.]
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High-brow thoughts, as he does low-brow things. Clive licks a long stripe along Joshua's palm, right along his lifeline, and smiles. ] No, I don't. [ Need to, he means. ] But I want to.
[ And that's a bit more of the Clive from childhood, when he had more leave to teasingly and harmlessly push back. He wouldn't be caught dead speaking out of turn in the company of their subjects (gods know that he hates the rumors that Ifrit is the one that controls the Phoenix), but right now―
―he thinks he's permitted. One last lick along the dip where thumb meets index, and Clive relinquishes Joshua's hand. ]
...I should fetch you a washbasin. And some clean cloth. [ He presses a kiss along Joshua's temple, and slowly, slowly peels himself from his brother with the sort of bone-deep reluctance that makes him reaffirm that, yes, this is what he wants. The guilt is still there, sitting in the pit of his stomach, but it doesn't color the way he touches Joshua anymore; he can't, now that he knows that their affections are mutual.
He loves Joshua. Irreversibly, and inexorably. Tomorrow, he will have to pretend that he doesn't want to kiss Joshua in witness of Greagor and every other god that shadows their footsteps, and will have to relinquish his brother's company so that others may have it, as much as it'll burn Clive to see the Sanbrequian elite fall upon his beautiful brother like so much flies on honey.
None of them will deserve Joshua. They tried to kill him. But peace is more important than Clive's still-seething anger towards the men who ever dared turn a sword against Joshua, and so, Clive will let his brother do what he must. ]
It won't be but a moment. ...I'm not running away.
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But Clive is right, as he so often is. If they fall asleep like this - covered in the mess they’ve made of themselves - they’ll certainly regret it in the morning. Just because Joshua can’t bring him to care about such things right now, when he’s warm and happy in a way he never thought he could be, doesn’t mean they don’t matter.]
Mmm. Come back before I get cold.
[There’s a playful affection to his words. It feels easy, though he knows it shouldn’t - he knows he should feel some hesitation about slipping so easily from treating Clive like a brother to treating him like a lover. But it comes easily, enough so that Joshua knows that will only make things more dangerous.
All of Rosaria already knows he favors Clive. He refused to allow Clive to be punished for Ifrit’s actions, despite what the nobles of Rosaria and Clive himself wanted. (Joshua still has no doubt that this was the right decision, thinks that Clive has punished himself far more than he ever needed to.) He insisted that Clive be given his rightful position as Lord Commander, and he’s always made a point of treating his brother with the respect he deserves - and subtly making it clear to the rest of the court that they ought to as well, at least in Joshua’s hearing.
There is no doubt in anyone’s mind that Joshua loves his brother. But how much more difficult will it be now, when he looks at Clive with different eyes, when he knows Clive’s touch? It isn’t as if he’ll be able to give Clive a parting kiss when he rides off to battle, like so many of the soldiers’ wives do. He’ll have to act no different than ever in public, and save everything else for these private moments.
At least it won’t be terribly strange for Clive to be in his chambers alone with him. At least he’s already known to be affectionate towards his brother - no one will think it odd if Joshua smiles at him, or touches his shoulder, or lingers in his company a bit longer than most. Those were all things he already did, for better or for worse.
He can smell Clive on the sheets, and he wants to press his face to them, breathe in. He wants to curl around Clive and not let go, wants Clive’s arms around him. Wants to see him smile, and give him more moments where he can relax. In Joshua’s arms, preferably.]
When we reach Sanbreque, I will ensure your chambers are as near mine as possible.
[Not an odd request, for a ruler and his sworn shield visiting a nation they’ve so recently been at war with. Likely he won’t even need to request it, but - Joshua will be certain.]
no subject
Despite this shift, which Joshua seems to be taking swimmingly to (and is even more radiant for it, tousled and glowing), Clive will always be his protector as well. It's just that, well.
Now, Clive has an excuse to swat other kinds of flies.
He smiles and sighs, low and fond, as he reaches sideways to sift his fingers through blond hair one more time before he gets up, finding his trousers amidst the mess he's made of his clothes on the floor. ]
When did you become such a troublemaker? [ Says the one who cracked first. A gentle tease, as he decides to forgo the idea of a shirt entirely, electing to leave the room in nothing but his pants and a pair of slippers. They're all winding down to rest, it shouldn't be so scandalous. ] You'll be the death of me.
[ Still smiling, he spares Joshua one last glance before stepping out－ nearly tripping over the dinner tray in the process, cursing softly under his breath－ to play fetch. The owner of the cottage's wife finds him outside and does look a little scandalized by the state of Clive's undress, but kindly provides him with a few washcloths that he takes back to the room with the basin full of clean water.
He returns, objects in tow, and scoots the tray inside with one foot (poor manners, the kind he never shows in front of anyone but Joshua). He gravitates back towards his brother quietly, and bids him roll onto his back so that Clive can make himself useful with the cloths. Careful and doting, as ever.
After a few seconds of gentle silence: ]
...You know that you mean everything to me, Joshua. [ Softly. ] Nothing will ever change this, no matter what form our relationship takes.
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More pleasant when Clive returns, though, and Joshua can look at him again. He lets Clive take care of him, enjoying the tender care - another selfish, greedy impulse, when he could just as easily clean himself. He's perfectly capable. But Clive wants to, and Joshua wants every bit of Clive that he can get, so of course he'll allow it. Of course he'll enjoy it.]
You mean everything to me, as well.
[A quiet truth that he knows he must never confess to anyone else. Rosaria should mean everything to him. But if the kingdom fell, and he still had Clive, he would survive. If he lost Clive, even if it won him Rosaria, safe forever, something would shatter in Joshua. He would do his duty, he's been raised for that, but he would have nothing left but that.
Joshua reaches out, running gentle fingers through Clive's hair. Indulging himself, now that he can. It wouldn't have been so terribly odd before - but now he can do it without worry, he can touch Clive and know that Clive understand what he means.]
I know that things - won't be easy. But my feelings for you won't change. [The part of Joshua that's a hopeless romantic, the part that loves tales and songs even though he knows how cruel the world can be, wants to believe that happiness is possible for them. That he can find a way to avoid the marriage that is expected of him, that he can be with Clive, even if it must always remain a secret. He wants to try. He doesn't want to break Clive's heart - or his own.] If it becomes too much, too painful... please tell me.
[He never wants Clive to suffer for this. They are already doing something they shouldn't, something the world would see as awful. Clive has already punished himself so much - for Ifrit, for Phoenix Gate, and Joshua knows he has punished himself for the feelings they share, too. That much of a burden he hopes to lift, and to keep it from ever crushing him again. He'll do what he must to make that real.]
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He runs the washcloth over Joshua's stomach, cleaning the last of the mess that he'd made on perfect, unblemished skin, and kisses over Joshua's navel once he's done. He savors the feeling of those gentle fingers combing through his hair, and flicks his gaze upwards towards Joshua's imploring eyes, holding his gaze throughout that last request. ]
You could never hurt me.
[ With perfect, unflinching conviction. An echo of what Joshua has always told him, but with more certitude. It will never be the case that Clive suffers because of Joshua; he will suffer gladly for Joshua, but not because his brother is the root cause of said suffering. There is a clear, diamond distinction there in Clive's head, and maybe it's the case that no one will understand it but Joshua. ]
I would lose my title, my Eikon, my name, if that's what it took to keep you. I need nothing else.
[ Too intense, most would say. This is not what a normal man would say, even to a normal lover. But, again, the events of Phoenix Gate have already fractured something in Clive irreversibly; he already knows that he won't survive a second time.
With that said, he sets the basin and cloths aside to slide back next to Joshua, to pull him back into the warmth of his arms and to pull the now-rumpled blanket around both of their bodies. It wouldn't do if Joshua caught cold. ]
You have ever been my joy.
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Clive deserves better. Of course he does. But he deserves a choice, too, and so does Joshua. If they’ve both chosen each other, despite the danger, the fear of what might come, Joshua can’t tell him no. He can’t refuse that choice. After all, isn’t he choosing the same thing?
He curls into Clive’s embrace, sliding his arms around his brother in turn, holding him close enough to feel his warmth, hear his heartbeat. He could stay like this forever, he thinks, and be happy.]
I don’t want you to have to lose anything for me. Never.
[Joshua is tired, but he struggles against the weariness. As if, if he lets himself sleep, this will all disappear.
He knows it won’t. When he wakes, Clive will be there, and they’ll have to begin finding their own path through all of this. But he doesn’t want this night to slip away from him, not yet. Just a little longer.]
Thank you. [His voice is soft.] For tonight. I didn’t think - I could have this.
[Joshua didn’t think he could be happy. Not like this, not with someone he should never be with - the only person he’s ever wanted.]
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His brother, his birthright. Clive sees how Joshua fights sleep, and it makes him feel soft despite Joshua thanking him for something that most people would have Clive's head for. You're welcome is decidedly not the correct response to "thank you for ravaging me", but it's hard to fall back on misery when all Clive feels is the sort of happiness that most men would be hard-pressed to find over the course of many lifetimes.
So he strokes blond hair, smoothing sweat-mussed strands back into their proper place, tickling the unruly ends that act a little like his own unruly bangs. Small similarities, here and there. ]
I'll forgive myself for my lack of restraint, then. [ A soft smile, reaffirming. ] And swear to you that you'll never doubt again.
[ With that, he takes one of Joshua's hands, momentarily dislodging it from where it's looped around him to kiss along its knuckles. Like another oath pledged, another sworn promise. ]
The only trouble now, [ is warmer, more lighthearted. ] Will be how we exercise our collective patience.
[ It's been years of not-so-casual repression. This new development is going to be hell for Clive, who is a poor liar on a good day. ]
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I'm afraid I don't have much of that. [There's a lightness to his voice too, but unfortunately, it's also the simple truth. Normally, Joshua can be quite patient - he could read for hours if allowed, and he's begun to cultivate a bit of a reputation for being a careful listener when he's needed to decide a matter for the kingdom or among its people. But when it comes to Clive - that, he's not sure he can manage.] Just look at you. It'll be a trial to keep my hands off you.
[He will behave (or do his best to), he knows the danger they've put themselves in with this. He would never put Clive at risk. But it's going to be difficult, and when they're alone, well, Joshua knows better than to make any promises about that. There's so much that he wants, and now that he knows Clive wants that too, how is he supposed to hold back?]
I haven't... I've never done anything like this before. [He probably doesn't need to tell Clive that. Surely it was obvious, his inexperience and his curiosity.] You'll have to tell me what you like. What you want.
[Joshua, of course, wants to learn. What Clive likes, and what he himself does, though he certainly has not the slightest complaints so far. He'll have to be careful when he dresses tomorrow - but luckily, it's not his habit to wear clothing that shows much skin at all, especially when he's meant to be acting formally as the Archduke. It shouldn't be difficult to cover up the marks Clive left.
The marks Joshua asked for. He's a little embarrassed thinking of it now, how shameless he was, but he's even more satisfied.]
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He sighs. Not aggravated nor exasperated, but just to release tension. For a moment, he flares hotter than he was a moment ago, and his voice pitches lower when he lets go of Joshua's hand to stroke his cheek in a way that's neither platonic or chaste. ]
Is that what you want, Joshua? [ His bare chest presses along Joshua's, pulse for pulse. ] For me to corrupt you however I wish?
[ His sweet, beautiful brother. The Archduke of Rosaria, the Phoenix's Dominant. A young man most people could only dream of being in the presence of, let alone touching in any way. The same young man currently in bed with Clive, saying things that make Clive want to roll back on top of him to kiss him breathless.
He won't, of course. Joshua isn't some thing for him to manhandle and treat like some common puppet. But he'd like to impress upon Joshua that, yes, he does want for him the way a man would a lover, and so he presses his mouth to Joshua's jaw, almost letting teeth scour over a very visible part of him.
The misbehaving only lasts a moment. Clive draws back, and kisses Joshua's forehead in compensation. ]
...None of my past experiences have given me an idea of what I like. [ Mostly because none of them have mattered at all. ] We can find our preferences together.
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He knows that Clive might think of himself that way - might still think of his own desires as dirty, wrong. And perhaps they are, given their blood ties, but if so then Joshua is no different. Clive has done nothing to corrupt him, done nothing that Joshua hasn't welcomed, encouraged.]
Perhaps I'll be the one corrupting you, then. [He leans in close to kiss Clive, gently, sweetly. If there's a hint of fire there, well - that will always be there, no matter how weary Joshua might find himself. He'll always look at Clive and want him.] You have always been so proper, and I the one who broke the rules so that I could follow you around.
[The one who crept into Clive's room at night for comfort, when he had nightmares. The one who would slip out under his tutor's - or mother's - nose to watch Clive practice, to cheer him on. Clive let him, of course, Clive wasn't the one who scolded him when he got caught. They're both at fault, perhaps, for how they've ended up. But Joshua isn't going to let Clive take the blame, not when he's just as guilty.
He rests his head on the pillow, gaze settling gently on Clive. Just looking at him, appreciating his beauty, his strength. His brother, his protector. More than that - his twin flame, Ifrit burning as brightly as the Phoenix. Sometimes Joshua thinks they call to one another.]
I want to learn with you. Everything.
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(More crudely, he has a feeling he wouldn't be able to get hard for anyone else now. Joshua has well and truly ruined him, and he doesn't regret it one bit.)
Clive combs through Joshua's hair again, soothing him to relax into their pillows, to settle against the mattress. He's no longer the child who would cough into his hands after every outdoors excursion, who would catch cold if exposed to the nighttime chill, but Clive still minds his comfort more than anything else. ]
And I would know what pleases you. [ Because god, that's all Clive wants. For Joshua to be happy in this life, for him to inhabit himself as Joshua Rosfield, and not only the expectations placed on him like an iron mantle. ] It may be my turn to steal into your room and into your bed, now.
[ Scaling walls, climbing balconies. A sweet fantasy, utterly taboo.
Clive tucks Joshua closer to the cradle of his chest to warm him, and tangles their legs together. ]
Now rest. We ride early tomorrow, if we're to reach Oriflamme by nightfall.
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[Said with a smile. Though it likely won't be so difficult, back at Rosalith - Clive's chambers are not far from Joshua's, and they're in each other's company often enough that it wouldn't be terribly remarkable for Clive to visit him late at night. To discuss matters of state, or the security of the country, or - well, there are a hundred excuses. They'll have to be careful, it will be dangerous, but it won't be impossible.
He presses close to Clive, eased by his warmth and that gentle affection. Clive is right, they do need to rest. It will be a long ride, followed by quite a lot of delicate diplomacy. Joshua was raised for this, and he doesn't think he's bad at it - but Sanbreque will be his greatest test thus far. If he can secure a true peace between their countries, he will have succeeded far beyond what most of the nobles of Rosaria expect. Even if he doesn't, he must lay the foundations for future attempts.
It will be difficult. For a little while, he was able to think only of Clive - to forget the pressures bearing down on both of them. He loves Clive all the more for that, for giving him some peace of his own. Having Clive at his side in Sanbreque will keep him safe, but it will keep him strong, too.]
Yes, you're right. And you must rest too.
[Clive is, after all, the one who actually fought today. Joshua might have healed his wounds, but his powers can't lift the weariness of exertion. They'll both need to be in good form tomorrow, just in case.]
Good night, Clive.
[Joshua's voice is already softening, already slipping into sleep.]