[In truth, Clive is the one who must temper both of their desires - because Joshua won't. For all his clever mind and careful thinking, when Joshua chooses a course he commits himself to it fully. In his heart, there's no room for regret or hesitation. Now that he knows he can have Clive, he has no interest in holding back, even when he should know better.
He is greedy. He knows it. But Clive is all he wants, and Joshua would throw himself into fire for his brother. The possibility of Sanbrequian condemnation is not quite enough to give him pause - but he will, always and forever, be swayed by Clive's own desires. Including his self-restraint, if he is able to hold onto it where Joshua isn't.
He is swayed, though, immediately and utterly, by Clive's careful words.]
How shocked those knights you thrashed would be if they heard that silver tongue of yours.
[He says it so fondly. There was no chance Joshua would refuse, of course, but when Clive asks like that - Joshua would give him anything he asked for. Anything at all.
He kisses Clive, and when they part, rests his forehead against Clive's - just for a moment.]
That's what I want to be. [Quiet, only for him.] All I want to be.
[Joshua will never lay down his duty, of course, can never truly cease being the Archduke. But here, in these stolen moments, he can be something else. Something that eases just a bit of the burden from his shoulders.]
Those knights need only know 'Lord Commander Rosfield'. [ Forehead to forehead, breath against breath. ] 'Clive' is yours.
[ Just as 'Joshua' is Clive's. Neither of them are referred to so casually anymore: only Sir Wade calls the elder Rosfield by his first name on occasion, and only because everyone knows that Sir Wade has been with the brothers since the Night of Flames. Both of them have had to shed their childhood and their personhood quickly in order to serve, and so―
―this is their reprieve, as twisted and wicked as it might be. No one in the world will ever know what Joshua and Clive have had to endure to be where they are, and no one in the world will understand that it's this bond that they share that has allowed them to live through the unspeakable and unimaginable.
Clive smiles, and presses his lips briefly against the corner of Joshua's mouth one more time before he sets to work on the complicated clasps and ties keeping his brother's formalwear in place. It's a bit of a shame to tug the silks off of him when he looks so striking in them, but he can appreciate that the pomp and circumstance must get stifling after a while; it's nice to peel the layers off and liberate his brother from the weight of it all.
It's when he has his arms circled around Joshua's middle, undoing the last of the laces keeping the corset-like vest hugged tight to his brother's form, that he hears a knock at the door. One of the castle's handmaids, he presumes, by the meek way that her muffled voice sounds through the door.
"Your Grace? I apologize for the intrusion... I was told you would need help getting settled for the night."
Right. Everything Clive is doing now, servants usually take care of. It's not the work of a Lord Commander to get his Archduke ready for bed.
Under his breath, against Joshua's ear: ] ―Should I dismiss her, or should I hide?
[Joshua goes still. In the euphoria of Clive’s nearness, he’d forgotten that as well. In his daily life, Joshua prefers to dress himself - he dresses more simply, lets the servants take care of more important tasks, steals a bit of privacy for himself at the beginning and end of the day. Even so, any occasion that requires more formal attire has always required the help of servants as well.
With Clive here, it had been easy to forget. And had they been at home, the servants wouldn’t think twice about being turned away by their Lord Commander - Clive and Joshua had plenty of things to discuss, were often found in one another’s company, and it would be only natural for Clive to offer that sort of help. It wouldn’t mean anything.
But here, it might. And if Joshua himself turns them away, there will be whispers that someone else is tending to him, and likely rumors will fly as to who. If he lets them in - what a farce, Clive having to hide. And Joshua is already half undone.
He sighs, tilts his head just enough to press his lips to the curve of Clive’s jaw.]
Dismiss her, please.
[It’s the best of these poor options. It won’t be so surprising to have Clive in his room - after all, he escorted Joshua there, and naturally they’d have much to discuss. It shouldn’t be remarkable.
It only means that Joshua really can’t try to convince him to stay the night. He wants to, badly, though he knows it’s unwise - he wants to fall asleep next to Clive, feel that intimacy and safety. But if Clive is missing from his own room all night, it will be noticed, and everyone will think he spent it in Joshua’s room rather than out carousing with any of his admirers. All the worse because they will be right.
It’s a bitter pill to swallow, for all that Joshua knew it was a poor idea to begin with. He pushes Clive away gently and stands, stepping away from the bed - with no intention except to reduce any appearance of inappropriate behavior, any passing thought that might come from the sight of him, half-undressed by the bed, Clive obviously having been close just a moment before.
It isn’t easy to step away. It isn’t easy to put any distance between them, not when, for a moment, Joshua could relax into his touch.]
Of course, [ he says, about the apologies. The maids are only doing what they've been commanded to do, and thus, they're not at fault for the intrusion; it's late, and Clive is sure they'd like nothing better than to return to their rooms and sleep.
He only allows himself a frisson of disappointment (for now) as he obliges the distance that they have to make, and tries to steel his face into quiet neutrality for the imminent conversation that he'll have to engage in. Speak the truth, he tells himself. Only lies of omission, not falsities.
(It burns him to think that the world will only know the masks that he and his brother are required to wear, but that's the cost of leaning into their taboo.)
The maid on the other side of the door winds up being more a girl than a young woman― no older than he was on the Night of Flames, Clive thinks. Her doe eyes widen when she's met with the tall, imposing figure of the Lord Commander instead of the softer outline of the Archduke, and she stammers through her apologies, which Clive waves off with a gentle hand. ]
I have business to discuss with His Grace, [ he explains. ] I'll see to it that he gets settled before I retire for the night.
[ The poor girl looks lost; Clive softens at her trepidation, and rests the flat of his palm over her hair. ] If anyone gives you trouble, tell them that Ifrit threatened to swallow you whole.
[ That seems to placate her, somewhat: she looks surprised, momentarily, by the joke, but hides a smile under one hand as she reaches into her apron pockets for something to hand to Clive. A perfumed note, which the girl says was handed to her by one of the noblewoman who'd been at the banquet― "I was told to give this to His Grace," she explains, to which Clive nods and takes the item in question from her. ]
I'll see to it that he receives it, [ he reassures her, despite his mounting headache. The girl leaves with a curtsy, and it's only after he's sure she's properly gone that Clive closes the door with a long sigh.
Holding up the note for Joshua's perusal: ] They're awfully persistent.
[He watches Clive, overcome with affection. For all that his brother is thought of as terrifying, for all that he knows Clive might even think of himself as someone people ought to keep their distance from, Joshua has always known that he has an incredibly kind heart. Of course he would treat a nervous serving girl so gently, of course he would soothe her fears so easily.
Joshua is not so very much older than that girl, but with the weight of a country on his shoulders, with all the darkness he's lived through, he feels a hundred years older. It's sweet to watch Clive's gentle kindness, something Joshua feels himself but rarely gets to see otherwise.
Clive has probably earned an admirer there, though certainly for more innocent reasons than the others.
Once the door is closed, Joshua makes his way to Clive, taking the note. He barely glances at it, doesn't unfold it. He has to play the game to some extent, he has to seem polite and approachable, but he really has no desire to actually get caught up in those courtly games. He certainly doesn't want to encourage anyone.]
They truly are. I wouldn't be surprised if you find someone in your bed when you get back to your room.
[Because for all that the attention paid to him has been heavy, none of it has been quite so forward as that paid to Clive. It frustrates Joshua to think of it - and perhaps there's a bit of jealousy there, too. Not because he thinks Clive would ever take an interest in any of them, but because they can pursue him so openly. These people who only see him as a curiosity, who don't know him or respect him, can do things that Joshua will never be allowed to do.
He doesn't regret this. He never could. He loves Clive so desperately that he feels lucky even knowing it must always be a secret. It's only that he knows, too, that Clive deserves better. He deserves adoration. The world ought to know that he is loved - but Joshua will never be able to give him that.
He touches the corner of the note to a candle flame, letting it burn. He doesn't bother looking at the contents. There's nothing it could say that would interest him, and the swift, fiery destruction soothes a bit of his discontent.]
Perhaps I can ask Dion to manufacture a secret affair. They would leave me alone if they thought their prince was interested.
[It would come with other problems, but it might be worth it. He thinks Dion could be trusted for something like that, since it wouldn't concern the fate of nations - only Joshua's peace of mind.]
[ He has barely a moment to be annoyed by the thought of someone in his bed before he catches Joshua burning the note. His mouth flies open in a bemused bark of a laugh, surprised by the audacity of the gesture but delighted by it in equal measure.
See, is a private thought he has to himself. No one should ever mistake my brother's patience for weakness.
Once Clive is sure that Joshua is far enough away from the candle (it really wouldn't do to set the castle on fire on their first night), he pulls Joshua to him, mindful of the clothes that his brother is still wearing, moving to undo the last of the ties around his waist to divest him of the vest. The rest is easy enough for Joshua to remove on his own, if he wishes to: a crisp white dress shirt, and a final thin undershirt. Clive doesn't touch Joshua's trousers, mostly because he can't be held accountable for what he might do if that layer sloughs off.
Especially when they're discussing Dion and affairs. He tries not to mind the mental images too much, or have them at all, but they surface anyway. Joshua and Dion are the both of them beautiful men, and they would be perfectly matched in station and age. ]
The Phoenix and Bahamut. It would be likely.
[ Dion had been... warm. Even the teasing at dinner was largely to give excuses for Clive to leave, and he'd been kind about Clive's earlier dismissal, besides. Still, a part of Clive balks at the idea of people looking at Joshua and envisioning him in the crown prince's bed; not just because Sanbreque and Rosaria have a bloody history, but because. Well.
It's petty jealousy, is what it is. He finds himself opening the front of Joshua's dress shirt, undoing the first three buttons of it to reveal the mark he'd left the night prior, and to press his mouth against it to freshen the reddening. ]
...Did he seem interested?
[ Blue eyes flick up. The truth is that Joshua is free to have anyone he wants― Clive would never deny him― but that Clive is only a man. Infatuated with someone he was never meant to have, and possessive of him in ways that make guilt weigh even heavier on his mind. ]
[It's a romantic idea, really. The Phoenix and Bahamut, two young Dominants whose countries are at odds, falling in love against their better judgment. The sort of affair that's just forbidden enough to be appealing, the sort of thing that would inspire dreamy bards.
And Dion is kind, and brave, and handsome. Joshua quite likes him, he's been more than welcoming. He's even been more respectful to Clive than nearly anyone else here - Joshua thinks Dion and Clive would get along well, should they ever have the chance to interact in a somewhat less complicated setting. They're both warriors, leaders, with a strong sense of right and wrong.
But all the qualities Joshua likes about Dion are ones that he loves in Clive. He can look at Dion and know that he's handsome, but he doesn't feel that sting of desire, that flush of heat that comes when Clive touches him. He doesn't think he could feel that way with anyone else, doesn't think he could want anyone the way he wants Clive. And more than that, the way he loves Clive, with a piece of his heart that no one else will be able to touch, no matter what may happen.
The sort of forbidden that could ruin them. But the way Joshua feels with Clive's mouth on his skin -
He doesn't care at all.]
No, I don't think so. He's been kind, but we were alone for some time today and he didn't say or do anything even a bit flirtatious.
[Admittedly, Joshua isn't terribly practiced in these things, so if Dion was being subtle he could have missed it. He doesn't think so, though.
He raises a hand, carding his fingers through Clive's hair, wanting nothing but to pull him closer. To peel that clothing off him and tug him to the bed. It's all so new, and Joshua hasn't had his fill of Clive yet - perhaps he never will. He fumbles a little with the buttons of his own shirt that Clive hasn't yet touched, his breath catches, it's struggle to keep his mind on what he was saying. Something about Dion?]
- I don't think I'm his type.
[Though Joshua also doesn't particularly care either way. There's only one person he wants to want him.]
[ There are two wolves inside of Clive: the one that wants to keep Joshua for himself, and the other that wants the entire world to adore his brother for who he is. The latter wins his internal struggle this time around, even as he slides further down the expanse of Joshua's smooth chest as it's revealed to him, button by excruciating button. ]
Impossible. [ Warmly, as he kisses over one pink nipple. ] You're everyone's type.
[ A little offended, actually, that anyone might think his perfect, beautiful, kind, smart, resourceful brother to be anything less than immediately desirable. Clive kneels in front of Joshua, the position more intimately familiar to him than anything else, and litters more kisses downwards, over Joshua's navel and sideways along his hip.
God, he's wanted Joshua all day. The training and politicking distracted him from the ache of it, but now that there are closed doors and drawn curtains, his proximity to Joshua is enticingly heady― it still feels insane to be allowed this, to have this be his new normal whenever they have the space and privacy for it.
Clive doesn't want anything else. He doesn't need acknowledgment or easy pleasure. Like this, knelt in front of Joshua with his hands bracketing his waist, he feels like the most fortunate man in all of Valisthea. ]
I worry that you've no idea how attractive you are.
[ Very biased, Clive knows. Still, it's a harmless flirt (since Dion apparently didn't!!!), and he presses it against Joshua's stomach before pulling back just an inch. ]
[It's not harmless at all. It's so simple for Clive to disarm Joshua complete, to bring a flush to his cheeks and a smile to his lips. Every man and woman cooing at him tonight could line up to tell him how lovely he was, and it would slide off him in a moment - but when it's Clive, it means something. When it's Clive, he tucks every word away to think about later, to hold close and warm him when they're apart.]
I only care about what you think of me.
[Here in Sanbreque, what Joshua wears matters - he makes a quiet statement by remaining in Rosarian colors, by matching his brother, and by choosing cuts and fabrics that bring to mind the fire they both wield. And of course he wants to look good, he wants to be impressive in the face of what the Sanbrequians must think of them. He wants them to look at him and understand that he isn't just a boy their actions nearly killed, he's an Archduke. A force in the world.
But he doesn't care if they think he's attractive. Joshua didn't come here to make a match - it wasn't on his mind when they left Rosalith, and it certainly wasn't after last night.
He only cares if Clive thinks he's attractive. And to Joshua, Clive is the most handsome man in the world. He himself is only a pale imitation.]
It's you everyone should have been looking at tonight. [And plenty of them were, Joshua saw it.] I certainly was.
[He gazes down at Clive, fingers touching his cheek, the scar there, across to brush his lips. His body is responding to Clive's attention, he can't help it, and wouldn't if he could. Clive's mouth on his skin is impossible to resist, Joshua wants it all the time.
Though it is a bit embarrassing - especially with Clive right there, where he'll surely notice.]
[ Rosaria's Archduke is freshly twenty years of age, and there are bound to be those who still see him as young and capable of being manipulated. As if Joshua hasn't been navigating those stormy waters since he was old enough to speak, as if Clive hasn't been there to watch his brother weather the internal politics of his own family with the sort of self-awareness a child of his age shouldn't have had to cultivate.
Clive cares what others think of Joshua. Mostly, he hopes they never think to harm him again. The boy the world forced to prime under duress is now a young man, and he has the power to tilt Valisthea's political balance with one word.
He is also, incidentally, a young man with needs. This, the world doesn't need to know about him: just Clive. He grows warm at both the assertion and the reality of Joshua's not-so-polite looking, and shifts downwards enough so that he can press that scarred cheek to the outline of Joshua between his legs.
Wicked of him, he knows. Wanting to tend to Joshua's every need shouldn't encompass something like this, and yet. What should repulse him only excites him, shamefully and entirely. ]
If it's looking you want to do, you can do as much of it as you like.
[ Maybe Joshua would like Clive's mouth on him. It's something Clive has never done for another man, and something he would gladly do for Joshua. It seems safer than any other alternative, which might end with him involuntarily falling asleep on his brother's bed.
A breath, and he nuzzles closer. Ifrit tried to break the Firebird once; now, the Phoenix is the only one Ifrit will ever bow to. ]
Founder, Joshua. You do something to me that I can't control.
[ With confidence: only Joshua could manage it. It's how they've managed to find themselves in this position at all, with Clive having been felled by one touch and one wistful remark about his brother wishing that they were freer to do as they pleased. ]
[Joshua’s hand touches Clive’s hair, hovering there, as if he’s not sure whether to pull him closer. He wants to - his heart is beating hard, his breath already coming a little more quickly. When Clive presses against him, he sways like a sapling in a breeze.
He wants everything Clive might be willing to give him. There’s nothing that Joshua would refuse him.]
Clive - [There’s a catch in his voice, just a small one. Desire, the sort that feels impossible to ignore.] I want to do far more than just look at you.
[The thought of affecting Clive so much, so deeply, would have been unbelievable only days ago. But now it’s impossible to deny. The way Clive looks at him, touches him, it’s something out of Joshua’s most secret fantasies. The sort of thing he’d told himself to stop thinking about, the sort of thing that had haunted his dreams.]
And I - I want you to lose control. With me, and only me.
[Clive is so careful everywhere else. So cautious of propriety, of his place, of what he feels he must atone for and of the gazes of others. Joshua understands, for all that it hurts him to see sometimes - they both have a role they must play.
But here, when it’s just the two of them, Clive should be allowed to set down his burdens, too. They should both be able to want, and be able to reach out.
Joshua’s hands move to the fastening of his trousers, though he doesn’t quite unhook it yet. His eyes, hungry, are on Clive.]
[ Warmth sits heavy in the pit of Clive's gut. It pools, sinks, settles, and for a perfect moment, Clive is breathless with it. This awful, sinful thing that makes him want for his own blood, and makes him want to demonstrate it in action. Even when they're so close, Clive yearns for Joshua; he doesn't think he's ever stopped yearning for Joshua, ever since he waited days and days for his brother to wake again after his near-death.
His near-murder, even. Guilt winds its way through Clive for a knifepoint moment, but he swallows it in favor of focusing on the look on Joshua's face, a mirror of Clive's own hunger.
It makes him see stars again. Despite it, he manages a soft laugh. ]
Where did you learn to goad like this? [ Craning his neck, kissing at the fingers poised over the clasp precariously holding Joshua's trousers together. If it'd been lace, Clive would have undone them with his teeth. ] I'll need to see what books you've been reading.
[ His mouth slides over Joshua's knuckles, and finds the smooth outline of a ring finger. His teeth close around the bottom of it, where a promise would sit if his brother were ever betrothed; a place Clive will never be entitled to. ]
...On the bed, Joshua. I want to please you.
[ If Clive could get away with it, he'd stitch Joshua to white sheets and spoil him until he's boneless and spent, too tired to do anything but list against Clive and accept his love and attention. There's so much going on in that clever head, and even for just a day, Clive wants to make it so that his brother has no obligation to think of anything but the understanding that he is thoroughly and completely loved, body and soul.
One more kiss to the rise of Joshua's knuckles, and Clive rakes his hot palms along that thin waist, edging forward on his knees to coax Joshua backwards towards the mattress again. No more interruptions, he hopes. ]
[Joshua goes easily, not an ounce of hesitation in his body. Though he's read plenty of steamy tomes he ought not have even had in the library, in truth he doesn't need any of them for inspiration. All he needs to do is look at Clive and for once let himself say what he's thinking, what he truly wants. It's impossibly easy.
They may never be able to make the sort of vows to one another that Joshua might like, but they're already bound together. They always will be, their eikons reflecting one another, their hearts beating in unison. This isn't the first time Joshua has had Clive on his knees.
He moves to the bed, feels the mattress hit the back of his legs. It's for the best, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stand much longer with Clive paying him that sort of attention. It's overwhelming, when Clive touches him, when Clive's mouth is against his skin, when Clive looks at him like he might gladly eat Joshua alive. Truly, Joshua is powerless against it. It is a very good thing that Clive is sworn to him, that he can be trusted completely - because he could ask Joshua for anything, anything at all, and Joshua would gladly give it.]
Should I take these off?
[He wants them off, of course, but - Joshua's quite gotten the feeling Clive likes undressing him. If Clive would rather do it himself, of course Joshua will let him. He's been undressed by servants enough times that he's lost count, and Clive has even helped him now and then before this (though never so much, never further than undoing laces and fastenings that Joshua couldn't reach, and even just that used to make Joshua's heart beat harder, used to leave him struggling to hide the flush that had risen to his cheeks). He ought to be used to it.
But it's different now, different when he knows Clive wants him. There's a reverence there that Joshua doesn't think he's imagining, and on his part, a sense of vulnerability that shouldn't be as thrilling as it is. Joshua isn't terribly shy of his own body (though he's always admired Clive's far more), but when Clive looks at him he feels exposed, wanted, desired.
He slips his finger under the clasp, unhooking it. They're coming off regardless. The confines of those trousers are getting a little too uncomfortable for him in this moment.]
Or would you like to do it?
[Joshua is not entirely sure he can sound seductive, given his extremely limited experience, but he certainly is trying.]
[ Joshua barely needs to attempt anything: just the promise of any part of him being relinquished to Clive is enough for his throat to go dry with need. ]
Let me, [ he rasps, after Joshua loosens the clasp keeping his waistband in place. Eager, lust-wracked. Clive can't bother to hide it anymore with their bodies tucked together they way they are, Joshua on the bed with his knees splayed, Clive between them. Every single nobleman and woman who'd been present at the dinner would have a heart attack if they could see the Rosfields now, configured in a way that leaves absolutely no room for doubt as to what their intentions are.
It doesn't matter. They don't matter. Clive kisses the patch of skin revealed after Joshua unfastens the front of his trousers, then works to shimmy that last layer off of him, underclothes and all. It still makes Clive's head spin to see Joshua's smooth, pale thighs, and the arousal that sits between them, proving that Joshua does want Clive in a way that he can't misinterpret.
He is utterly ruined by this. Whatever self-control he possesses turns to ash. He nuzzles his face against Joshua's interest with unabashed hunger, just the sight of it alone enough to make him hard in his own leathers; he knows it must be obscene, the way he presses his cheek against Joshua's cock, letting the smooth metal of their matching earcuffs (their vows, their unbreakable bond) touch along that heat.
Blue eyes flick up, drenched in need. ]
―Founder, I'd spend the entire night making you come if I could.
[ Speaking of losing control. Unwisely, he kisses down to the soft skin of Joshua's inner thigh and lingers there for a breath before letting his teeth sink inwards, leaving a mark similar to the one dotting Joshua's collarbone in a place that only lovers would have access to. ]
[Joshua breathes in, a stuttering gasp. It's still all so new to him, last night his first taste of intimacy. And it's all the more intense because it's Clive, because Joshua wants him so very badly, because he's had to be so careful all day long. He couldn't look too long, couldn't touch him at all. He's been good, and now for a little while he doesn't have to be.]
I wish we had all night.
[He does, desperately. Joshua tries to hard to be a proper Archduke, to be what Rosaria needs, but when Clive is with him like this all he wants is more. All he wants is to steal more time alone with his brother, someplace no one can see them, somewhere they can indulge in all these terrible things they both know they shouldn't want. To forget the world for a little while, and only think about Clive.
Joshua cards his fingers through Clive's hair, disarranging it more than it already is, but of course it only makes Clive look rakishly handsome. Joshua can't look away, doesn't want to look away. His other hand holds on to the edge of the bed, keeping him steady, because it will be all too easy to get too caught up in this. It's happening already, that love bite on his thigh a trophy, proof that in this moment he's nothing but Clive's. The rest of the world doesn't matter.]
I've been thinking about you all day. I shouldn't have been, but - I couldn't help it.
[He couldn't look, couldn't touch. But Joshua could not quite control his thoughts. Even while most of them circled around what he needed to do, how he needed to be seen by Sanbreque - everything else gravitated so easily to Clive. If he was all right, if they were treating him well. Fierce pride when he saw Clive handing those knights their defeats, though naturally Joshua had never expected anything else.
It's not surprising, really. Just the night before, Clive finally gave Joshua everything he ever wanted, everything he thought he could never have. It's remarkable that Joshua can think about anything else at all. A testament to his training, perhaps, that he can focus on matters of geopolitical importance when he's suddenly understood what real desire feels like.
He's feeling it now. There's no doubt of that - finally free of his confining clothing, Joshua can breathe a little more easily, but his arousal hasn't flagged in the least. Every touch, every movement that Clive makes only excites him more.]
[ Clive is still navigating what Joshua likes, and what Joshua would like him to do. The shift in their relationship is still brand-new, long-felt but only very recently spoken into existence, and so, Clive isn't sure whether to be careful about it or to toss caution to the wind― what they're doing is already devastatingly careless, anyway.
Murky, thrilling waters. He doubts he'll ever get used to the way his heart clenches around Joshua, or how his blood heats in Joshua's periphery. He has a fleeting thought that time might make it easier for the both of them to temper their desires, but Clive somehow doubts that, too.
He listens to Joshua speak with hazy affection, and waits until his brother finishes to finally press his mouth properly against the obvious erection near his face. To Joshua's credit, he's been the very definition of poise and grace all day, so: ]
You barely showed it, the way you conducted yourself. [ Clive kisses along him, lips and tongue over that hard, sweet heat. ] You were so good in your duties, Joshua.
[ An indulgent sigh, warm and heavy. He has no reference for this aside from being on the receiving end of it once, but no part of Joshua is unappealing to him; he could stay on his knees for hours if it meant making Joshua's knees shake. ]
And you're being so good for me now.
[ Hands bracket toned thighs, keeping them in place while Clive keeps exploring and teasing in equal measure, experimentally taking just the tip of Joshua's length in his mouth. Blue eyes flick up, trying to gauge interest in both what he's doing and saying. Even if no one else will agree that any of this is 'good', Clive will affirm everything about Joshua with his dying breath. ]
[It's not that Joshua wasn't expecting that - he was, he just wasn't ready for the way it feels. The shock of pleasure, that wet heat. Clive's mouth. The idea of such a thing, before this, was an appealing one, but the reality is something else entirely. And Clive choosing to do it, wanting to -
He doesn't know why it feels like a surprise, that Clive would want to put his mouth on him. If Joshua were the one on his knees, he doesn't think he'd hesitate, either. Still, it feels indecent. And incredible.
He grips the sheets, holding himself still.]
If I'm to be rewarded like this, then I want to be very good. For you.
[He's breathless, flushed, and despite what they're doing - or because of it - he feels a bit shy. It's not just the sensation. Joshua does what's expected of him, and he never looks for praise for it. Nor does he expect it. Receiving it unexpectedly from Clive, like this, well, he should not like it so much. But he does want very badly to be good - at being an Archduke, at saying the right things, doing the right things.
But more than that, when they're alone together like this, he wants to be everything Clive wants. He doesn't know how, he doesn't know what Clive likes, though he's learning. Knowing that he can be that, even a bit, makes his heart pound, his desire grow.
Not that he needs any help with that, not while Clive's between his legs.]
Is that - all right? You don't mind doing it?
[He certainly doesn't seem to mind. But Joshua can't touch him like this, can't give him pleasure in return. He will afterwards - he wants to - but he doesn't want Clive to feel like he's denying himself anything.]
[ A Lord Commander servicing his Archduke is already the sort of thing that's written about in erotica that would never find its way into an Archduke's library (unless...?); their blood ties make this even more scandalous than it already is. The frisson of guilt that winds through Clive is subsumed easily by his love-drunk stupor, and he bobs once, twice over Joshua's heat before he finds it in himself to answer.
Breathless: ] I wouldn't mind if you asked to bind and burn me. [ That's extreme, but it's only to make the point that― ] ―I want everything that you give me.
[ Sincerely meant, as he kisses along the flat of Joshua's cock again. So pretty, every inch of him. He'd always fancied that he had more restraint than this, but being permitted is an intoxicating drug; the more Joshua allows, the more the burning furnace in his chest wants and wants and wants.
Mouth flushed and blue eyes fogged, Clive nuzzles along Joshua's thigh. ]
Unless you'd rather me be closer to you. [ Since they're still coming to terms with this new physicality, trying to figure out what works and what doesn't. Clive can appreciate that Joshua might feel uncertain in this position, only open to receiving instead of reciprocation.
He straightens up a few inches, the smile on his lips soft and gentle. He presses it against Joshua's chest, where he thinks his heartbeat to be. ] I'd like that, too.
[ If only they had more time and less eyes on them. It's likely that after this mission to Sanbreque, Clive will be sent off to another frontline to gauge unrest along the Dhalmekian border in light of the Northern territories' attempt at peace; he has no idea when he'll be able to see Joshua next, should that happen. ]
[A simple truth, that’s flared to something impossible to ignore since the night before. But it isn’t new. They’ve often been apart, Joshua safe but confined in Rosalith Castle, Clive free but always facing danger on the borders of their country. Dhalmekia, the Iron Kingdom, Sanbreque - Rosaria has too many threats, and Ifrit has been the one to face them.
And every time, Joshua has missed him terribly.
He knows it will only be harder now. Now he’ll be craving Clive’s touch as well as his presence. Now he knows what it feels like to want, and to be wanted, and he’ll have to be without it. It won’t be easy. It makes him greedy, makes him want to take advantage of every moment they have. He believes that this won’t end, believes that they’ll have more chances. But he knows it won’t be easy.]
I like this, your mouth, I - it feels incredible. I just, I want you to feel good, too.
[Because it would be so easy to get lost in pleasure. When Clive’s mouth is on him it’s nearly impossible to think about anything else, and despite what Clive says, Joshua doesn’t want to do anything he might not like. More than that, he wants Clive to feel as much pleasure as he does.
In the end, that’s greediness too. He wants Clive to feel so good that he never thinks of anyone else again. He wants to haunt Clive’s dreams when they’re apart, he wants Clive to crave his touch, because he knows he’ll feel that way. He felt it today, and they were hardly apart at all.
He reaches down, fingers brushing Clive’s cheek, thumb slipping across his lips.]
After, let me take care of you.
[He’s not sure, yet, what he means by that. But Joshua knows he wants to touch Clive, wants to give him pleasure, wants to make him come. He’s willing to wait - he’s so hard he can hardly stand it, he wants Clive’s mouth on him again, but he wants that too.
[ A diplomatic mission shouldn't be a respite from the hurricanelike normal that Clive has had to adjust to after their collective tragedy. Over the past decade, Ifrit has had to be everywhere at once, a constant whisper across all of the Twins inviting low-scale skirmishes to whittle enemy ranks while discouraging decisive invasions; it'd been lucky, during some years of their hardest years, if Clive got to see Joshua for more than a month at a time. Comparatively, this small pocket of respite is as lucky as they've been for a while, and might be the luckiest they'll get in a while, politics notwithstanding.
Joshua looks after Rosalith, and Clive looks after Joshua. For now, he can content himself with the very literal interpretation of that vow, and laugh under his breath as he nips the tip of Joshua's thumb. ]
And who said that this doesn't make me feel good?
[ Joshua, flushed and bare, losing himself in needs that have nothing to do with inhabiting the ducal throne. It's beautiful, and Clive would have Joshua every day like this if it made life easier for his brother to bear. ]
You think me a better man than I am.
[ Again, referring to the wicked, wicked thoughts that have crossed Clive's mind far before he loosened his grip on his reins. He lets go of Joshua's finger to slide back down between his legs, eager to have Joshua back where he can feel him pulsing near the back of his throat. Clumsy but enthusiastic in a way that Clive has never felt about being carnal or intimate before.
And he never will, if it isn't Joshua near him. His disinterest in others had made him despair in the past, but no longer. He's come to accept it, the way he's come to accept that he loves Joshua more than a brother should. The eager wet of his mouth over Joshua's cock is indication enough, as well as the soft sound of pleasure that comes from feeling Joshua's weight and heat pressing along his inner cheek. Clive is dizzy with the feeling of it, and the fact that Joshua trusts him to do something like this. ]
[He wants to tell Clive that he is a good man, the greatest man Joshua knows. All the more because his desires mirror Joshua’s own. It may be wrong, it may be the sort of thing that could ruin them, but for Joshua it’s a blessing he never expected. He thinks that he sees Clive more clearly than anyone. In Joshua’s eyes, there is no better man. There never could be.
But that will all have to wait, because when he’s in Clive’s mouth he finds it incredibly difficult to collect his thoughts.
All he can think of is need, bliss, a desperate desire. The sensation alone is incredible - hot, wet, more pleasure than he’s ever felt before - but knowing that Clive’s the one doing it, seeing that, is something else entirely. He never imagined that Clive might actually want this, that he might derive enjoyment from it. It makes him wild to think that might be the case, that Clive might want him that much.]
Oh - Clive -
[It’s all he can do to grip the edge of the bed and keep himself from moving, from bucking into Clive’s mouth chasing that pleasure. He can’t look away. It’s filthy seeing Clive like that, seeing himself in Clive’s mouth, and he can’t stop looking.
He knows how dearly he’ll ache when they’re apart. He always has - missing Clive when he’s gone, greedy of his time when he’s at Rosalith. Clinging to him like a vine, exerting what power he had even before taking the throne to request that his First Shield stay near. All of his guards have been hand-picked by Clive, all of them can be trusted. There’s never been any reason to demand Clive’s presence, but that’s never stopped Joshua from wanting him near. Only the feeling that he’s being selfish, that Clive might want to spend his time elsewhere, has ever tempered the urge. And even then, he felt a bit jealous.
Now he’s not sure there’s anything that will stop him. He’ll want Clive near him all the time - at his side, in his bed. He won’t be able to have it, he knows, but that won’t stop his desires.]
You’re - incredible. You feel so good.
[Joshua may have nothing to compare this with, but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t want it. Nothing but Clive, no one but him.]
[ It's filthy, it's depraved. Not a single soul in Whitewyrm would ever suspect that their distinguished guests would be entangled like this, lost in each other in a way that would make the gods faint, but Clive doesn't have the mental faculty to care. Right now, his world dials down to where he has Joshua's thighs clutched under his palms, to the taste and feel of him in his mouth, to the sweet words of affirmation in Joshua's soft voice.
There's no experience or finesse to what he does. All instinct, though instinct has served him well for twenty-five years of his life. He bobs, swallows, and tries not to choke when he pushes his limits; breathless, he comes up for air, and looks up at Joshua with what he knows is concentrated adoration. ]
Joshua. [ His voice is hoarse, but steady. ] Look at how greedy you make me.
[ Clive knows that he hardly looks the part of a protector right now. Disheveled and love-drunk, happily sinning between Joshua's legs. The mantle of responsibility shed, but still oath-sworn: still perversely upholding his promise to do anything and everything for the sake of his beloved brother.
And fuck, he wants Joshua so badly. He says so after another mouthful of Joshua's cock, only slightly embarrassed by the wet sounds he's making; he can't care, when the truth is so evident. ] I want everything you can give me.
[ I want is not a thing Clive says, almost ever. The past two days mark a record for most times he's expressed a personal desire that had nothing to do with duty― he has always eschewed selfishness above all else, having held deeply to the belief that he neither deserves it nor has earned it.
A part of him still believes that, but he knows Joshua would hate to hear it. So, like the act of trying to fit Joshua in his throat, he lets himself want. Clumsily, but wholeheartedly. He chokes around that feeling, literally and metaphorically. He dips down, down, and hums around Joshua's length, high on the feeling of being so damnably close. ]
[It's what he's always wished for for Clive, really. That he be able to want things for himself, apart from his duty. Even without the guilt he carries, Clive has a loyal soul - Joshua knows he would have devoted himself to his duty regardless. But that guilt adds a weight that means he never sets the burden down.
He's fought for years, thrown himself into the role of Rosaria's protector - Joshua's protector. Joshua loves him for it, understands just how much they needed it, but even so he wants more for Clive. He wants his brother to be happy, to want things for himself, to be free of guilt and duty and obligation if only for a little while.
Joshua never imagined such a thing might look like this. The most shameless of sins, something that they both want so desperately. And to know that Clive wants it, that it's truly his desire, is captivating all by itself. To know he wants this, and to feel it, to see his unfettered need -
It's no surprise Joshua is being brought to the edge so quickly.]
Everything I have is yours.
[Just getting the words out is difficult, with the way his breath catches. Joshua doesn't want to look away, but he can't help closing his eyes, biting his lip as the pleasure peaks. Trying to stay in control of himself for just a moment longer.]
Clive, I'm close -
[A warning is all he can give. Enough time for Clive to move away, if he wishes, but hardly more than that. And Joshua remembers vividly the night before, Clive licking his hand clean, how filthy and perfect it was. Even so, he deserves a warning, but Joshua can't do much more than that. All it really takes is the sight of Clive again, letting himself want, wanting Joshua, and Joshua can't stop himself from crying out as he comes.
[ Clive doesn't need a warning: it's doubtful that the impending threat of war could have filtered through to his consciousness in the moments before Joshua spills over. He's focused and greedy and utterly selfish in how he stays down while Joshua hits his peak, making his own muffled sound of contentment as he swallows, only barely aware of how utterly fucking immoral it is to be wasting his brother's precious spend like this.
(Not that Clive would invoke Anabella in bed, but this is likely the most blatant act of rebellion he can take against his mother and her obsession with bloodlines.)
It's bliss. Joshua is so good for him. He feels perfect, even despite the eventual discomfort that sets in as Clive struggles for breath; when he pulls up for air, it's only after he feels Joshua's sweet tremors abate, and he feels confident that there's nothing more for him to taste.
A low, ragged exhale, and Clive rests his head on his brother's thigh. His jaw is sore, but pleasantly― his eyes are slightly misted from the effort, but they're molten with affection, still, and he presses a tired kiss to Joshua's hip. ]
...I was afraid I wouldn't be any good at that.
[ Hoarsely, but with an unmistakable undercurrent of playfulness. Clive is too sincere to be coy about anything, but he can play at flirting if only because he knows that Joshua won't mind if he fumbles. It's not like Clive will ever stretch his flirting muscles for anyone but his brother, anyway. ]
[He reaches down to stroke Clive's hair, still catching his breath, still feeling little aftershocks of pleasure. He adores Clive, and he's constantly amazed - shocked, even - by what Clive seems willing to do for him. Even seems to want to do. Joshua is not so plagued with guilt as his brother, but even so he thinks he doesn't deserve this. He's never done anything to deserve this sort of devotion. He's not sure anyone could.
But it doesn't matter. So long as Clive wants to be with him, Joshua has no intention of ever giving him up. That may be selfish of him, and may be all the more reason why he doesn't deserve Clive's devotion - but that won't change his heart either. And if he can make Clive happy, even a little, it's worth it.]
You're good at everything you do.
[There's a touch of teasing in Joshua's voice too, but he does mean what he says. Clive's not perfect - Joshua knows that. But Joshua has always admired him, his hard work, his quiet confidence in hard-won skill, his determination. Of course, in this case Joshua really has nothing to compare it to, but he still feels amazing. Content, sated. So in love it's ridiculous.
His hand trails down, stroking Clive's cheek. He hasn't forgotten his intention to take care of Clive, but he needs a moment first. A moment to recover himself, a moment to simply look at Clive.]
You take me apart so easily.
[It's freeing in a way Joshua didn't expect. That for a little while he can think of nothing but Clive, nothing but what Clive's hands and mouth and body are doing. It's not often that Joshua's burdens slip away from his thoughts - the weight of a country is no small thing, and he has very little that's just his own. Perhaps that will change over time, as he becomes used to his position, but right now it consumes nearly every moment of his day.
Except the ones he shares with Clive, like this. So few, and he knows they'll never be free to spend as much time together as they might like, but even so - just for a little while, he can think of nothing but the man he loves. It's an impossible luxury, one he never thought of having.
He wants to give a little bit of that to Clive, too. A little of that freedom, shared between them.]
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He is greedy. He knows it. But Clive is all he wants, and Joshua would throw himself into fire for his brother. The possibility of Sanbrequian condemnation is not quite enough to give him pause - but he will, always and forever, be swayed by Clive's own desires. Including his self-restraint, if he is able to hold onto it where Joshua isn't.
He is swayed, though, immediately and utterly, by Clive's careful words.]
How shocked those knights you thrashed would be if they heard that silver tongue of yours.
[He says it so fondly. There was no chance Joshua would refuse, of course, but when Clive asks like that - Joshua would give him anything he asked for. Anything at all.
He kisses Clive, and when they part, rests his forehead against Clive's - just for a moment.]
That's what I want to be. [Quiet, only for him.] All I want to be.
[Joshua will never lay down his duty, of course, can never truly cease being the Archduke. But here, in these stolen moments, he can be something else. Something that eases just a bit of the burden from his shoulders.]
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[ Just as 'Joshua' is Clive's. Neither of them are referred to so casually anymore: only Sir Wade calls the elder Rosfield by his first name on occasion, and only because everyone knows that Sir Wade has been with the brothers since the Night of Flames. Both of them have had to shed their childhood and their personhood quickly in order to serve, and so―
―this is their reprieve, as twisted and wicked as it might be. No one in the world will ever know what Joshua and Clive have had to endure to be where they are, and no one in the world will understand that it's this bond that they share that has allowed them to live through the unspeakable and unimaginable.
Clive smiles, and presses his lips briefly against the corner of Joshua's mouth one more time before he sets to work on the complicated clasps and ties keeping his brother's formalwear in place. It's a bit of a shame to tug the silks off of him when he looks so striking in them, but he can appreciate that the pomp and circumstance must get stifling after a while; it's nice to peel the layers off and liberate his brother from the weight of it all.
It's when he has his arms circled around Joshua's middle, undoing the last of the laces keeping the corset-like vest hugged tight to his brother's form, that he hears a knock at the door. One of the castle's handmaids, he presumes, by the meek way that her muffled voice sounds through the door.
"Your Grace? I apologize for the intrusion... I was told you would need help getting settled for the night."
Right. Everything Clive is doing now, servants usually take care of. It's not the work of a Lord Commander to get his Archduke ready for bed.
Under his breath, against Joshua's ear: ] ―Should I dismiss her, or should I hide?
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With Clive here, it had been easy to forget. And had they been at home, the servants wouldn’t think twice about being turned away by their Lord Commander - Clive and Joshua had plenty of things to discuss, were often found in one another’s company, and it would be only natural for Clive to offer that sort of help. It wouldn’t mean anything.
But here, it might. And if Joshua himself turns them away, there will be whispers that someone else is tending to him, and likely rumors will fly as to who. If he lets them in - what a farce, Clive having to hide. And Joshua is already half undone.
He sighs, tilts his head just enough to press his lips to the curve of Clive’s jaw.]
Dismiss her, please.
[It’s the best of these poor options. It won’t be so surprising to have Clive in his room - after all, he escorted Joshua there, and naturally they’d have much to discuss. It shouldn’t be remarkable.
It only means that Joshua really can’t try to convince him to stay the night. He wants to, badly, though he knows it’s unwise - he wants to fall asleep next to Clive, feel that intimacy and safety. But if Clive is missing from his own room all night, it will be noticed, and everyone will think he spent it in Joshua’s room rather than out carousing with any of his admirers. All the worse because they will be right.
It’s a bitter pill to swallow, for all that Joshua knew it was a poor idea to begin with. He pushes Clive away gently and stands, stepping away from the bed - with no intention except to reduce any appearance of inappropriate behavior, any passing thought that might come from the sight of him, half-undressed by the bed, Clive obviously having been close just a moment before.
It isn’t easy to step away. It isn’t easy to put any distance between them, not when, for a moment, Joshua could relax into his touch.]
With my apologies.
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He only allows himself a frisson of disappointment (for now) as he obliges the distance that they have to make, and tries to steel his face into quiet neutrality for the imminent conversation that he'll have to engage in. Speak the truth, he tells himself. Only lies of omission, not falsities.
(It burns him to think that the world will only know the masks that he and his brother are required to wear, but that's the cost of leaning into their taboo.)
The maid on the other side of the door winds up being more a girl than a young woman― no older than he was on the Night of Flames, Clive thinks. Her doe eyes widen when she's met with the tall, imposing figure of the Lord Commander instead of the softer outline of the Archduke, and she stammers through her apologies, which Clive waves off with a gentle hand. ]
I have business to discuss with His Grace, [ he explains. ] I'll see to it that he gets settled before I retire for the night.
[ The poor girl looks lost; Clive softens at her trepidation, and rests the flat of his palm over her hair. ] If anyone gives you trouble, tell them that Ifrit threatened to swallow you whole.
[ That seems to placate her, somewhat: she looks surprised, momentarily, by the joke, but hides a smile under one hand as she reaches into her apron pockets for something to hand to Clive. A perfumed note, which the girl says was handed to her by one of the noblewoman who'd been at the banquet― "I was told to give this to His Grace," she explains, to which Clive nods and takes the item in question from her. ]
I'll see to it that he receives it, [ he reassures her, despite his mounting headache. The girl leaves with a curtsy, and it's only after he's sure she's properly gone that Clive closes the door with a long sigh.
Holding up the note for Joshua's perusal: ] They're awfully persistent.
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Joshua is not so very much older than that girl, but with the weight of a country on his shoulders, with all the darkness he's lived through, he feels a hundred years older. It's sweet to watch Clive's gentle kindness, something Joshua feels himself but rarely gets to see otherwise.
Clive has probably earned an admirer there, though certainly for more innocent reasons than the others.
Once the door is closed, Joshua makes his way to Clive, taking the note. He barely glances at it, doesn't unfold it. He has to play the game to some extent, he has to seem polite and approachable, but he really has no desire to actually get caught up in those courtly games. He certainly doesn't want to encourage anyone.]
They truly are. I wouldn't be surprised if you find someone in your bed when you get back to your room.
[Because for all that the attention paid to him has been heavy, none of it has been quite so forward as that paid to Clive. It frustrates Joshua to think of it - and perhaps there's a bit of jealousy there, too. Not because he thinks Clive would ever take an interest in any of them, but because they can pursue him so openly. These people who only see him as a curiosity, who don't know him or respect him, can do things that Joshua will never be allowed to do.
He doesn't regret this. He never could. He loves Clive so desperately that he feels lucky even knowing it must always be a secret. It's only that he knows, too, that Clive deserves better. He deserves adoration. The world ought to know that he is loved - but Joshua will never be able to give him that.
He touches the corner of the note to a candle flame, letting it burn. He doesn't bother looking at the contents. There's nothing it could say that would interest him, and the swift, fiery destruction soothes a bit of his discontent.]
Perhaps I can ask Dion to manufacture a secret affair. They would leave me alone if they thought their prince was interested.
[It would come with other problems, but it might be worth it. He thinks Dion could be trusted for something like that, since it wouldn't concern the fate of nations - only Joshua's peace of mind.]
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See, is a private thought he has to himself. No one should ever mistake my brother's patience for weakness.
Once Clive is sure that Joshua is far enough away from the candle (it really wouldn't do to set the castle on fire on their first night), he pulls Joshua to him, mindful of the clothes that his brother is still wearing, moving to undo the last of the ties around his waist to divest him of the vest. The rest is easy enough for Joshua to remove on his own, if he wishes to: a crisp white dress shirt, and a final thin undershirt. Clive doesn't touch Joshua's trousers, mostly because he can't be held accountable for what he might do if that layer sloughs off.
Especially when they're discussing Dion and affairs. He tries not to mind the mental images too much, or have them at all, but they surface anyway. Joshua and Dion are the both of them beautiful men, and they would be perfectly matched in station and age. ]
The Phoenix and Bahamut. It would be likely.
[ Dion had been... warm. Even the teasing at dinner was largely to give excuses for Clive to leave, and he'd been kind about Clive's earlier dismissal, besides. Still, a part of Clive balks at the idea of people looking at Joshua and envisioning him in the crown prince's bed; not just because Sanbreque and Rosaria have a bloody history, but because. Well.
It's petty jealousy, is what it is. He finds himself opening the front of Joshua's dress shirt, undoing the first three buttons of it to reveal the mark he'd left the night prior, and to press his mouth against it to freshen the reddening. ]
...Did he seem interested?
[ Blue eyes flick up. The truth is that Joshua is free to have anyone he wants― Clive would never deny him― but that Clive is only a man. Infatuated with someone he was never meant to have, and possessive of him in ways that make guilt weigh even heavier on his mind. ]
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And Dion is kind, and brave, and handsome. Joshua quite likes him, he's been more than welcoming. He's even been more respectful to Clive than nearly anyone else here - Joshua thinks Dion and Clive would get along well, should they ever have the chance to interact in a somewhat less complicated setting. They're both warriors, leaders, with a strong sense of right and wrong.
But all the qualities Joshua likes about Dion are ones that he loves in Clive. He can look at Dion and know that he's handsome, but he doesn't feel that sting of desire, that flush of heat that comes when Clive touches him. He doesn't think he could feel that way with anyone else, doesn't think he could want anyone the way he wants Clive. And more than that, the way he loves Clive, with a piece of his heart that no one else will be able to touch, no matter what may happen.
The sort of forbidden that could ruin them. But the way Joshua feels with Clive's mouth on his skin -
He doesn't care at all.]
No, I don't think so. He's been kind, but we were alone for some time today and he didn't say or do anything even a bit flirtatious.
[Admittedly, Joshua isn't terribly practiced in these things, so if Dion was being subtle he could have missed it. He doesn't think so, though.
He raises a hand, carding his fingers through Clive's hair, wanting nothing but to pull him closer. To peel that clothing off him and tug him to the bed. It's all so new, and Joshua hasn't had his fill of Clive yet - perhaps he never will. He fumbles a little with the buttons of his own shirt that Clive hasn't yet touched, his breath catches, it's struggle to keep his mind on what he was saying. Something about Dion?]
- I don't think I'm his type.
[Though Joshua also doesn't particularly care either way. There's only one person he wants to want him.]
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Impossible. [ Warmly, as he kisses over one pink nipple. ] You're everyone's type.
[ A little offended, actually, that anyone might think his perfect, beautiful, kind, smart, resourceful brother to be anything less than immediately desirable. Clive kneels in front of Joshua, the position more intimately familiar to him than anything else, and litters more kisses downwards, over Joshua's navel and sideways along his hip.
God, he's wanted Joshua all day. The training and politicking distracted him from the ache of it, but now that there are closed doors and drawn curtains, his proximity to Joshua is enticingly heady― it still feels insane to be allowed this, to have this be his new normal whenever they have the space and privacy for it.
Clive doesn't want anything else. He doesn't need acknowledgment or easy pleasure. Like this, knelt in front of Joshua with his hands bracketing his waist, he feels like the most fortunate man in all of Valisthea. ]
I worry that you've no idea how attractive you are.
[ Very biased, Clive knows. Still, it's a harmless flirt (since Dion apparently didn't!!!), and he presses it against Joshua's stomach before pulling back just an inch. ]
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I only care about what you think of me.
[Here in Sanbreque, what Joshua wears matters - he makes a quiet statement by remaining in Rosarian colors, by matching his brother, and by choosing cuts and fabrics that bring to mind the fire they both wield. And of course he wants to look good, he wants to be impressive in the face of what the Sanbrequians must think of them. He wants them to look at him and understand that he isn't just a boy their actions nearly killed, he's an Archduke. A force in the world.
But he doesn't care if they think he's attractive. Joshua didn't come here to make a match - it wasn't on his mind when they left Rosalith, and it certainly wasn't after last night.
He only cares if Clive thinks he's attractive. And to Joshua, Clive is the most handsome man in the world. He himself is only a pale imitation.]
It's you everyone should have been looking at tonight. [And plenty of them were, Joshua saw it.] I certainly was.
[He gazes down at Clive, fingers touching his cheek, the scar there, across to brush his lips. His body is responding to Clive's attention, he can't help it, and wouldn't if he could. Clive's mouth on his skin is impossible to resist, Joshua wants it all the time.
Though it is a bit embarrassing - especially with Clive right there, where he'll surely notice.]
I always am.
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Clive cares what others think of Joshua. Mostly, he hopes they never think to harm him again. The boy the world forced to prime under duress is now a young man, and he has the power to tilt Valisthea's political balance with one word.
He is also, incidentally, a young man with needs. This, the world doesn't need to know about him: just Clive. He grows warm at both the assertion and the reality of Joshua's not-so-polite looking, and shifts downwards enough so that he can press that scarred cheek to the outline of Joshua between his legs.
Wicked of him, he knows. Wanting to tend to Joshua's every need shouldn't encompass something like this, and yet. What should repulse him only excites him, shamefully and entirely. ]
If it's looking you want to do, you can do as much of it as you like.
[ Maybe Joshua would like Clive's mouth on him. It's something Clive has never done for another man, and something he would gladly do for Joshua. It seems safer than any other alternative, which might end with him involuntarily falling asleep on his brother's bed.
A breath, and he nuzzles closer. Ifrit tried to break the Firebird once; now, the Phoenix is the only one Ifrit will ever bow to. ]
Founder, Joshua. You do something to me that I can't control.
[ With confidence: only Joshua could manage it. It's how they've managed to find themselves in this position at all, with Clive having been felled by one touch and one wistful remark about his brother wishing that they were freer to do as they pleased. ]
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He wants everything Clive might be willing to give him. There’s nothing that Joshua would refuse him.]
Clive - [There’s a catch in his voice, just a small one. Desire, the sort that feels impossible to ignore.] I want to do far more than just look at you.
[The thought of affecting Clive so much, so deeply, would have been unbelievable only days ago. But now it’s impossible to deny. The way Clive looks at him, touches him, it’s something out of Joshua’s most secret fantasies. The sort of thing he’d told himself to stop thinking about, the sort of thing that had haunted his dreams.]
And I - I want you to lose control. With me, and only me.
[Clive is so careful everywhere else. So cautious of propriety, of his place, of what he feels he must atone for and of the gazes of others. Joshua understands, for all that it hurts him to see sometimes - they both have a role they must play.
But here, when it’s just the two of them, Clive should be allowed to set down his burdens, too. They should both be able to want, and be able to reach out.
Joshua’s hands move to the fastening of his trousers, though he doesn’t quite unhook it yet. His eyes, hungry, are on Clive.]
Will you?
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His near-murder, even. Guilt winds its way through Clive for a knifepoint moment, but he swallows it in favor of focusing on the look on Joshua's face, a mirror of Clive's own hunger.
It makes him see stars again. Despite it, he manages a soft laugh. ]
Where did you learn to goad like this? [ Craning his neck, kissing at the fingers poised over the clasp precariously holding Joshua's trousers together. If it'd been lace, Clive would have undone them with his teeth. ] I'll need to see what books you've been reading.
[ His mouth slides over Joshua's knuckles, and finds the smooth outline of a ring finger. His teeth close around the bottom of it, where a promise would sit if his brother were ever betrothed; a place Clive will never be entitled to. ]
...On the bed, Joshua. I want to please you.
[ If Clive could get away with it, he'd stitch Joshua to white sheets and spoil him until he's boneless and spent, too tired to do anything but list against Clive and accept his love and attention. There's so much going on in that clever head, and even for just a day, Clive wants to make it so that his brother has no obligation to think of anything but the understanding that he is thoroughly and completely loved, body and soul.
One more kiss to the rise of Joshua's knuckles, and Clive rakes his hot palms along that thin waist, edging forward on his knees to coax Joshua backwards towards the mattress again. No more interruptions, he hopes. ]
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They may never be able to make the sort of vows to one another that Joshua might like, but they're already bound together. They always will be, their eikons reflecting one another, their hearts beating in unison. This isn't the first time Joshua has had Clive on his knees.
He moves to the bed, feels the mattress hit the back of his legs. It's for the best, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stand much longer with Clive paying him that sort of attention. It's overwhelming, when Clive touches him, when Clive's mouth is against his skin, when Clive looks at him like he might gladly eat Joshua alive. Truly, Joshua is powerless against it. It is a very good thing that Clive is sworn to him, that he can be trusted completely - because he could ask Joshua for anything, anything at all, and Joshua would gladly give it.]
Should I take these off?
[He wants them off, of course, but - Joshua's quite gotten the feeling Clive likes undressing him. If Clive would rather do it himself, of course Joshua will let him. He's been undressed by servants enough times that he's lost count, and Clive has even helped him now and then before this (though never so much, never further than undoing laces and fastenings that Joshua couldn't reach, and even just that used to make Joshua's heart beat harder, used to leave him struggling to hide the flush that had risen to his cheeks). He ought to be used to it.
But it's different now, different when he knows Clive wants him. There's a reverence there that Joshua doesn't think he's imagining, and on his part, a sense of vulnerability that shouldn't be as thrilling as it is. Joshua isn't terribly shy of his own body (though he's always admired Clive's far more), but when Clive looks at him he feels exposed, wanted, desired.
He slips his finger under the clasp, unhooking it. They're coming off regardless. The confines of those trousers are getting a little too uncomfortable for him in this moment.]
Or would you like to do it?
[Joshua is not entirely sure he can sound seductive, given his extremely limited experience, but he certainly is trying.]
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Let me, [ he rasps, after Joshua loosens the clasp keeping his waistband in place. Eager, lust-wracked. Clive can't bother to hide it anymore with their bodies tucked together they way they are, Joshua on the bed with his knees splayed, Clive between them. Every single nobleman and woman who'd been present at the dinner would have a heart attack if they could see the Rosfields now, configured in a way that leaves absolutely no room for doubt as to what their intentions are.
It doesn't matter. They don't matter. Clive kisses the patch of skin revealed after Joshua unfastens the front of his trousers, then works to shimmy that last layer off of him, underclothes and all. It still makes Clive's head spin to see Joshua's smooth, pale thighs, and the arousal that sits between them, proving that Joshua does want Clive in a way that he can't misinterpret.
He is utterly ruined by this. Whatever self-control he possesses turns to ash. He nuzzles his face against Joshua's interest with unabashed hunger, just the sight of it alone enough to make him hard in his own leathers; he knows it must be obscene, the way he presses his cheek against Joshua's cock, letting the smooth metal of their matching earcuffs (their vows, their unbreakable bond) touch along that heat.
Blue eyes flick up, drenched in need. ]
―Founder, I'd spend the entire night making you come if I could.
[ Speaking of losing control. Unwisely, he kisses down to the soft skin of Joshua's inner thigh and lingers there for a breath before letting his teeth sink inwards, leaving a mark similar to the one dotting Joshua's collarbone in a place that only lovers would have access to. ]
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I wish we had all night.
[He does, desperately. Joshua tries to hard to be a proper Archduke, to be what Rosaria needs, but when Clive is with him like this all he wants is more. All he wants is to steal more time alone with his brother, someplace no one can see them, somewhere they can indulge in all these terrible things they both know they shouldn't want. To forget the world for a little while, and only think about Clive.
Joshua cards his fingers through Clive's hair, disarranging it more than it already is, but of course it only makes Clive look rakishly handsome. Joshua can't look away, doesn't want to look away. His other hand holds on to the edge of the bed, keeping him steady, because it will be all too easy to get too caught up in this. It's happening already, that love bite on his thigh a trophy, proof that in this moment he's nothing but Clive's. The rest of the world doesn't matter.]
I've been thinking about you all day. I shouldn't have been, but - I couldn't help it.
[He couldn't look, couldn't touch. But Joshua could not quite control his thoughts. Even while most of them circled around what he needed to do, how he needed to be seen by Sanbreque - everything else gravitated so easily to Clive. If he was all right, if they were treating him well. Fierce pride when he saw Clive handing those knights their defeats, though naturally Joshua had never expected anything else.
It's not surprising, really. Just the night before, Clive finally gave Joshua everything he ever wanted, everything he thought he could never have. It's remarkable that Joshua can think about anything else at all. A testament to his training, perhaps, that he can focus on matters of geopolitical importance when he's suddenly understood what real desire feels like.
He's feeling it now. There's no doubt of that - finally free of his confining clothing, Joshua can breathe a little more easily, but his arousal hasn't flagged in the least. Every touch, every movement that Clive makes only excites him more.]
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Murky, thrilling waters. He doubts he'll ever get used to the way his heart clenches around Joshua, or how his blood heats in Joshua's periphery. He has a fleeting thought that time might make it easier for the both of them to temper their desires, but Clive somehow doubts that, too.
He listens to Joshua speak with hazy affection, and waits until his brother finishes to finally press his mouth properly against the obvious erection near his face. To Joshua's credit, he's been the very definition of poise and grace all day, so: ]
You barely showed it, the way you conducted yourself. [ Clive kisses along him, lips and tongue over that hard, sweet heat. ] You were so good in your duties, Joshua.
[ An indulgent sigh, warm and heavy. He has no reference for this aside from being on the receiving end of it once, but no part of Joshua is unappealing to him; he could stay on his knees for hours if it meant making Joshua's knees shake. ]
And you're being so good for me now.
[ Hands bracket toned thighs, keeping them in place while Clive keeps exploring and teasing in equal measure, experimentally taking just the tip of Joshua's length in his mouth. Blue eyes flick up, trying to gauge interest in both what he's doing and saying. Even if no one else will agree that any of this is 'good', Clive will affirm everything about Joshua with his dying breath. ]
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He doesn't know why it feels like a surprise, that Clive would want to put his mouth on him. If Joshua were the one on his knees, he doesn't think he'd hesitate, either. Still, it feels indecent. And incredible.
He grips the sheets, holding himself still.]
If I'm to be rewarded like this, then I want to be very good. For you.
[He's breathless, flushed, and despite what they're doing - or because of it - he feels a bit shy. It's not just the sensation. Joshua does what's expected of him, and he never looks for praise for it. Nor does he expect it. Receiving it unexpectedly from Clive, like this, well, he should not like it so much. But he does want very badly to be good - at being an Archduke, at saying the right things, doing the right things.
But more than that, when they're alone together like this, he wants to be everything Clive wants. He doesn't know how, he doesn't know what Clive likes, though he's learning. Knowing that he can be that, even a bit, makes his heart pound, his desire grow.
Not that he needs any help with that, not while Clive's between his legs.]
Is that - all right? You don't mind doing it?
[He certainly doesn't seem to mind. But Joshua can't touch him like this, can't give him pleasure in return. He will afterwards - he wants to - but he doesn't want Clive to feel like he's denying himself anything.]
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Breathless: ] I wouldn't mind if you asked to bind and burn me. [ That's extreme, but it's only to make the point that― ] ―I want everything that you give me.
[ Sincerely meant, as he kisses along the flat of Joshua's cock again. So pretty, every inch of him. He'd always fancied that he had more restraint than this, but being permitted is an intoxicating drug; the more Joshua allows, the more the burning furnace in his chest wants and wants and wants.
Mouth flushed and blue eyes fogged, Clive nuzzles along Joshua's thigh. ]
Unless you'd rather me be closer to you. [ Since they're still coming to terms with this new physicality, trying to figure out what works and what doesn't. Clive can appreciate that Joshua might feel uncertain in this position, only open to receiving instead of reciprocation.
He straightens up a few inches, the smile on his lips soft and gentle. He presses it against Joshua's chest, where he thinks his heartbeat to be. ] I'd like that, too.
[ If only they had more time and less eyes on them. It's likely that after this mission to Sanbreque, Clive will be sent off to another frontline to gauge unrest along the Dhalmekian border in light of the Northern territories' attempt at peace; he has no idea when he'll be able to see Joshua next, should that happen. ]
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[A simple truth, that’s flared to something impossible to ignore since the night before. But it isn’t new. They’ve often been apart, Joshua safe but confined in Rosalith Castle, Clive free but always facing danger on the borders of their country. Dhalmekia, the Iron Kingdom, Sanbreque - Rosaria has too many threats, and Ifrit has been the one to face them.
And every time, Joshua has missed him terribly.
He knows it will only be harder now. Now he’ll be craving Clive’s touch as well as his presence. Now he knows what it feels like to want, and to be wanted, and he’ll have to be without it. It won’t be easy. It makes him greedy, makes him want to take advantage of every moment they have. He believes that this won’t end, believes that they’ll have more chances. But he knows it won’t be easy.]
I like this, your mouth, I - it feels incredible. I just, I want you to feel good, too.
[Because it would be so easy to get lost in pleasure. When Clive’s mouth is on him it’s nearly impossible to think about anything else, and despite what Clive says, Joshua doesn’t want to do anything he might not like. More than that, he wants Clive to feel as much pleasure as he does.
In the end, that’s greediness too. He wants Clive to feel so good that he never thinks of anyone else again. He wants to haunt Clive’s dreams when they’re apart, he wants Clive to crave his touch, because he knows he’ll feel that way. He felt it today, and they were hardly apart at all.
He reaches down, fingers brushing Clive’s cheek, thumb slipping across his lips.]
After, let me take care of you.
[He’s not sure, yet, what he means by that. But Joshua knows he wants to touch Clive, wants to give him pleasure, wants to make him come. He’s willing to wait - he’s so hard he can hardly stand it, he wants Clive’s mouth on him again, but he wants that too.
He wants everything, when Clive is involved.]
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Joshua looks after Rosalith, and Clive looks after Joshua. For now, he can content himself with the very literal interpretation of that vow, and laugh under his breath as he nips the tip of Joshua's thumb. ]
And who said that this doesn't make me feel good?
[ Joshua, flushed and bare, losing himself in needs that have nothing to do with inhabiting the ducal throne. It's beautiful, and Clive would have Joshua every day like this if it made life easier for his brother to bear. ]
You think me a better man than I am.
[ Again, referring to the wicked, wicked thoughts that have crossed Clive's mind far before he loosened his grip on his reins. He lets go of Joshua's finger to slide back down between his legs, eager to have Joshua back where he can feel him pulsing near the back of his throat. Clumsy but enthusiastic in a way that Clive has never felt about being carnal or intimate before.
And he never will, if it isn't Joshua near him. His disinterest in others had made him despair in the past, but no longer. He's come to accept it, the way he's come to accept that he loves Joshua more than a brother should. The eager wet of his mouth over Joshua's cock is indication enough, as well as the soft sound of pleasure that comes from feeling Joshua's weight and heat pressing along his inner cheek. Clive is dizzy with the feeling of it, and the fact that Joshua trusts him to do something like this. ]
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But that will all have to wait, because when he’s in Clive’s mouth he finds it incredibly difficult to collect his thoughts.
All he can think of is need, bliss, a desperate desire. The sensation alone is incredible - hot, wet, more pleasure than he’s ever felt before - but knowing that Clive’s the one doing it, seeing that, is something else entirely. He never imagined that Clive might actually want this, that he might derive enjoyment from it. It makes him wild to think that might be the case, that Clive might want him that much.]
Oh - Clive -
[It’s all he can do to grip the edge of the bed and keep himself from moving, from bucking into Clive’s mouth chasing that pleasure. He can’t look away. It’s filthy seeing Clive like that, seeing himself in Clive’s mouth, and he can’t stop looking.
He knows how dearly he’ll ache when they’re apart. He always has - missing Clive when he’s gone, greedy of his time when he’s at Rosalith. Clinging to him like a vine, exerting what power he had even before taking the throne to request that his First Shield stay near. All of his guards have been hand-picked by Clive, all of them can be trusted. There’s never been any reason to demand Clive’s presence, but that’s never stopped Joshua from wanting him near. Only the feeling that he’s being selfish, that Clive might want to spend his time elsewhere, has ever tempered the urge. And even then, he felt a bit jealous.
Now he’s not sure there’s anything that will stop him. He’ll want Clive near him all the time - at his side, in his bed. He won’t be able to have it, he knows, but that won’t stop his desires.]
You’re - incredible. You feel so good.
[Joshua may have nothing to compare this with, but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t want it. Nothing but Clive, no one but him.]
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There's no experience or finesse to what he does. All instinct, though instinct has served him well for twenty-five years of his life. He bobs, swallows, and tries not to choke when he pushes his limits; breathless, he comes up for air, and looks up at Joshua with what he knows is concentrated adoration. ]
Joshua. [ His voice is hoarse, but steady. ] Look at how greedy you make me.
[ Clive knows that he hardly looks the part of a protector right now. Disheveled and love-drunk, happily sinning between Joshua's legs. The mantle of responsibility shed, but still oath-sworn: still perversely upholding his promise to do anything and everything for the sake of his beloved brother.
And fuck, he wants Joshua so badly. He says so after another mouthful of Joshua's cock, only slightly embarrassed by the wet sounds he's making; he can't care, when the truth is so evident. ] I want everything you can give me.
[ I want is not a thing Clive says, almost ever. The past two days mark a record for most times he's expressed a personal desire that had nothing to do with duty― he has always eschewed selfishness above all else, having held deeply to the belief that he neither deserves it nor has earned it.
A part of him still believes that, but he knows Joshua would hate to hear it. So, like the act of trying to fit Joshua in his throat, he lets himself want. Clumsily, but wholeheartedly. He chokes around that feeling, literally and metaphorically. He dips down, down, and hums around Joshua's length, high on the feeling of being so damnably close. ]
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He's fought for years, thrown himself into the role of Rosaria's protector - Joshua's protector. Joshua loves him for it, understands just how much they needed it, but even so he wants more for Clive. He wants his brother to be happy, to want things for himself, to be free of guilt and duty and obligation if only for a little while.
Joshua never imagined such a thing might look like this. The most shameless of sins, something that they both want so desperately. And to know that Clive wants it, that it's truly his desire, is captivating all by itself. To know he wants this, and to feel it, to see his unfettered need -
It's no surprise Joshua is being brought to the edge so quickly.]
Everything I have is yours.
[Just getting the words out is difficult, with the way his breath catches. Joshua doesn't want to look away, but he can't help closing his eyes, biting his lip as the pleasure peaks. Trying to stay in control of himself for just a moment longer.]
Clive, I'm close -
[A warning is all he can give. Enough time for Clive to move away, if he wishes, but hardly more than that. And Joshua remembers vividly the night before, Clive licking his hand clean, how filthy and perfect it was. Even so, he deserves a warning, but Joshua can't do much more than that. All it really takes is the sight of Clive again, letting himself want, wanting Joshua, and Joshua can't stop himself from crying out as he comes.
Luckily, this time the walls are stone.]
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(Not that Clive would invoke Anabella in bed, but this is likely the most blatant act of rebellion he can take against his mother and her obsession with bloodlines.)
It's bliss. Joshua is so good for him. He feels perfect, even despite the eventual discomfort that sets in as Clive struggles for breath; when he pulls up for air, it's only after he feels Joshua's sweet tremors abate, and he feels confident that there's nothing more for him to taste.
A low, ragged exhale, and Clive rests his head on his brother's thigh. His jaw is sore, but pleasantly― his eyes are slightly misted from the effort, but they're molten with affection, still, and he presses a tired kiss to Joshua's hip. ]
...I was afraid I wouldn't be any good at that.
[ Hoarsely, but with an unmistakable undercurrent of playfulness. Clive is too sincere to be coy about anything, but he can play at flirting if only because he knows that Joshua won't mind if he fumbles. It's not like Clive will ever stretch his flirting muscles for anyone but his brother, anyway. ]
Look at you. Beautiful.
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But it doesn't matter. So long as Clive wants to be with him, Joshua has no intention of ever giving him up. That may be selfish of him, and may be all the more reason why he doesn't deserve Clive's devotion - but that won't change his heart either. And if he can make Clive happy, even a little, it's worth it.]
You're good at everything you do.
[There's a touch of teasing in Joshua's voice too, but he does mean what he says. Clive's not perfect - Joshua knows that. But Joshua has always admired him, his hard work, his quiet confidence in hard-won skill, his determination. Of course, in this case Joshua really has nothing to compare it to, but he still feels amazing. Content, sated. So in love it's ridiculous.
His hand trails down, stroking Clive's cheek. He hasn't forgotten his intention to take care of Clive, but he needs a moment first. A moment to recover himself, a moment to simply look at Clive.]
You take me apart so easily.
[It's freeing in a way Joshua didn't expect. That for a little while he can think of nothing but Clive, nothing but what Clive's hands and mouth and body are doing. It's not often that Joshua's burdens slip away from his thoughts - the weight of a country is no small thing, and he has very little that's just his own. Perhaps that will change over time, as he becomes used to his position, but right now it consumes nearly every moment of his day.
Except the ones he shares with Clive, like this. So few, and he knows they'll never be free to spend as much time together as they might like, but even so - just for a little while, he can think of nothing but the man he loves. It's an impossible luxury, one he never thought of having.
He wants to give a little bit of that to Clive, too. A little of that freedom, shared between them.]
You must be uncomfortable. Come up on the bed.
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