[ 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.]
[ There's relief in the unshakeable knowledge that they have each other. That, for all the ways in which the world conspires to harm them, Clive is safe with Joshua, and Joshua is safe with Clive. Safe, even, to explore this thing they've embroiled themselves in, and to be happy about it.
Because Clive is. Happy, that is. Unspeakably. As children, Joshua was the one who made Clive feel even a modicum of worth when no one else could manage to; even now, with the both of them respectively twenty-five and twenty, Clive still feels saved and needed by Joshua every day.
He truly doesn't know what he'd do without his brother. Joshua is his world.
When bid to get up and slide into bed, Clive obliges― not without excusing himself for a quick beat to drink a mouthful of water for courtesy's sake. With that done, he strips his skintight top off (midnight black, with crimson seams and linings) and drapes it over the back of a chair, more haphazard with his own clothes than he was with Joshua's silks.
The mattress doesn't creak when he finally settles himself on top of it. At least the Sanbrequians had the decency to give Joshua a high-quality bed. ]
Don't get me too comfortable, [ he murmurs as he slides next to his brother and loops his arms around his waist, nuzzling up like an oversized hound. ] I might fall asleep.
[ Half-joking, half-serious. Historically, Clive has always been a light sleeper unless Joshua was sharing the bed with him. ]
[Joshua has made himself comfortable in the bed, and it is a nice one. In this, at least, Sanbreque is treating him properly, and he won’t complain. If only he really could share it with Clive.
Since the night before, it had been a long time since they’d shared a bed. After Phoenix Gate, Joshua had needed some time to recover - and once he had, he knew he was too old for it to be acceptable to sneak into his brother’s bed at night. As he grew, it ceased being sweet and innocent, became something with shades of impropriety. Or at least it felt that way to Joshua, though perhaps that was because his own thoughts began to turn less innocent.
But he’s missed it. The warmth of Clive’s body against his, the soft sound of his breath. The sense of safety that used to chase away his nightmares so easily. How he wishes Clive could stay.]
Would that you could. My bed will be far too cold without you.
[Joshua relaxes against Clive, warm and sated and pliant, enjoying that expanse of finely muscled skin against his own. He could fall asleep easily like this, he knows. But he also knows Clive has tended to him with such attentiveness, while setting aside his own needs.
He strokes a hand down Clive’s arm, and bends just enough to press his mouth to Clive’s shoulder. A gentle kiss, he stops short of nipping the skin. Given Clive’s exertions on the training ground today, Joshua knows he’s much more likely to be seen without a shirt than Joshua himself, so he ought not leave marks.
He’ll just have to treasure his own all the more for it.]
Let me take care of you. You’ve hardly been touched at all.
[ It's an exhausting thing, to have everyone constantly read between the lines of their interactions. To have one or both of them chided for standing too close― "it reflects poorly on the Archduke, to have his Shield hover so"― or to keep their fondness in check, so as not to raise questions of favoritism. (Or worse: sentiment.) As the years passed, it's become harder and harder for Clive to express fondness without the inevitability of judgment.
A strange thing, he thinks. Joshua is his brother. Who could blame him for holding his brother close to his heart?
And so, he doesn't take the luxury of his current closeness for granted. He cards his fingers through blond hair, bright and warm unlike his own raven-black; he'd always liked the way Joshua had settled against him when they were still young enough to get away with it, sunlight hair nested against Clive's shoulder, soft against his skin.
Really, he would be happy with just this. His own arousal is a dull ache, but not unmanageable; he could still steal away somewhere and take care of it on his own. ]
You needn't, if you're tired. [ Mindful, though he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't curious as to how Joshua might want to take care of him. ] And besides, I've touched you plenty.
[ 'Plenty' isn't 'enough', though. Clive doubts he'll ever know what 'enough' is when it comes to Joshua, which is exactly deranged enough that he hesitates to demand too much of Joshua right out of the gate. He says as much. ]
...Unless my clever brother wants to see how more more infatuated I can get.
[He is tired, admittedly, but that isn't going to keep Joshua from indulging himself. He has been focused on everything he must do in Sanbreque, diplomacy and delicate negotiations and forming alliances - but Joshua can't think of such things every moment of every day. His mind wandered to Clive, again and again. He's had time to think of what he might want to do, how he might want to touch his brother.]
Of course I do.
[Pushing Clive gently back on the bed, Joshua climbs atop him, settling over his thighs. Not quite touching, Joshua doesn't rest his whole weight on Clive. Though he's rather sure Clive could stand it easily enough if he did, he doesn't want his brother to be uncomfortable.
Joshua is good at seeming confident, sure of himself. It's a skill, one he mastered years ago, one he uses all the time now that he's Archduke. He really doesn't know what he's doing - he has only his own fantasies, dirty books he shouldn't have been reading, and the brief time they've spent together - but he knows what he wants, and so he isn't going to hesitate. It doesn't matter if he's uncertain, unpracticed. He seems utterly sure of himself, for the moment.]
When we're apart, I want your thoughts to be full of me. I want you to think of me when you're alone. When you touch yourself.
[And doesn't that mean he ought to give Clive plenty to think of? He bends down, pressing his mouth to Clive's chest. Exploring, carefully - drawing his mouth along smooth skin, putting his lips to old scars he wasn't able to soothe away with his flames, brushing his teeth gently across one nipple.
He's wanted to do this. To taste Clive, to touch him. It feels wildly transgressive now that he's doing it, and despite his air of confidence Joshua is quite afraid he'll do something wrong - something Clive doesn't like, even something that might hurt him. But he wants far too much to let that fear stop him.
His hands go to Clive's trousers, fumbling with the buttons there.]
[ Joshua has had to find his footing far too quickly in the aftermath of their tragedy, especially given his weakened state. (And whose fault was that?) Where Clive never flourished or thrived in studies related to rhetoric and presentation, Joshua－ with the help of the Undying－ excelled in it. Held himself upright, when any other boy of his age would have buckled.
And now－ well. He's a stately young man straddling Clive's thighs, making Clive's nerves go alight with just a few choice words. ]
You say so, as if you don't already occupy all of my thoughts. You'd faint if I knew what I've done to you in my head already.
[ A low sigh, as he arches subtly into the press of Joshua's lips. He could run a mile in full armor without letting his breath go ragged, but the feeling of that mouth against his chest, over his nipple, makes his pulse pound; Joshua should be able to feel Clive's heart jackhammering against his ribs, almost as if it wants to escape its confines to find its rightful place next to Joshua's heart.
He's still hard. Each touch makes that arousal feel a little more desperate for attention. When he feels fingers scrabble at his buttons, though, he laughs under his breath and reaches to help. ]
Patience, Joshua.
[ Maybe his brother isn't as composed or sure as he'd like to seem. It's terribly endearing, though he knows he ought not to patronize: Joshua is as capable as any young man his age could possibly be. Smiling about it, Clive hums and unfastens his trousers with one-handed ease, sighing warmly at the friction their hands make against the obvious outline of the erection straining between his legs. ]
[Joshua flushes a little, but he can't really be that embarrassed. Of course he wants to touch Clive, of course he can barely handle just how much he wants to touch Clive. He knows desiring Clive - his blood, his own brother - like this is wrong, but despite knowing that, it's hard for him to really see it that way. Clive deserves to be wanted, deserves to have everything he might wish for. And if Joshua is part of that, it only means he's wildly lucky. Clive could have anyone. Who would ever refuse him?
He tugs Clive's trousers down, shifting his weight just enough to move all that fabric between them out of the way. It's a bit of a balancing act - getting Clive's pants and underclothes off without moving too far away from him, which is the last thing Joshua wants to do right now - but it's manageable.]
When I see you like this, it's hard to have any patience at all.
[How is he supposed to, when Clive is laid out on his bed, hard and waiting to be touched? Joshua reaches out and wraps his hand around Clive. He's careful - this is all still new to him - but he doesn't hesitate. There's nothing he wants more right now than to give Clive pleasure.]
I do want to know, though. The things you've thought about.
[Joshua's had his own wandering thoughts, traveling places they should not. He used to drag his thoughts away, hate himself a little, fear Clive's disgust should he ever discover them. Now he wishes he'd indulged a bit more, learned what he could, so that he could be the kind of partner Clive deserves.]
Even the shocking ones. I don't think there's much I wouldn't do, if you were the one who wanted it.
[He begins to stroke Clive gently, blue eyes steady on him, wanting to be certain it feels good - but also simply wanting to look. It still feels impossible and new, seeing Clive like this, and Joshua wants to cling to every moment.]
[ His mouth forms the shape of an ah when Joshua's warm hand finally wraps around his now-bared cock, momentarily stunned by how immediately good it feels to have Joshua tending to him. There'd be a moment here where he reflects on how different this feels from his past experiences, all of which were either frenetic or pragmatic, but he has no space for that, really: the entirety of his focus dials down to where Joshua is touching him (everywhere, it feels like) and the sound of Joshua's voice carrying above the din of his own hammering heartbeat.
Oh, he's weak. All his years spent training and honing and steeling his spirit, and it's all for naught the moment Joshua gives him any scrap of attention. Joshua, who Clive always wants so terribly but felt he would never deserve; Joshua, who always soothes the worst of Clive's pathologies with a glance and a smile.
No one has ever given Clive permission, the way Joshua does. All his life, Clive had thought that maybe it was his virtue that he found meaning in finding the right place to die― it's only ever been Joshua that has told him to live, instead. ]
I'd speak on it, [ he finally huffs, hoarse but amused. ] But I'm finding it harder and harder to think.
[ And so, he'll have to tell Joshua about his very impolite thoughts when his brain isn't quite so scrambled. Last night had been a desperate sort of shoving together, a hurried rush to touch each other before either one of them could decide not to; tonight, Clive is starkly aware of how gentle and measured Joshua is being, and how his brother is watching so intently, and the scrutiny dusts a flush across his face. ]
...Come here. [ To hide his slight bashfulness, he reaches for Joshua and pulls him closer, claiming his mouth to distract him from looking. He cups that beautiful face, tipping it for a better angle to deepen their kiss, flooding arousal into Joshua's mouth with each exhale. His breath comes at the pace Joshua is stroking him, hitches and hikes when something feels just right. ]
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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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Because Clive is. Happy, that is. Unspeakably. As children, Joshua was the one who made Clive feel even a modicum of worth when no one else could manage to; even now, with the both of them respectively twenty-five and twenty, Clive still feels saved and needed by Joshua every day.
He truly doesn't know what he'd do without his brother. Joshua is his world.
When bid to get up and slide into bed, Clive obliges― not without excusing himself for a quick beat to drink a mouthful of water for courtesy's sake. With that done, he strips his skintight top off (midnight black, with crimson seams and linings) and drapes it over the back of a chair, more haphazard with his own clothes than he was with Joshua's silks.
The mattress doesn't creak when he finally settles himself on top of it. At least the Sanbrequians had the decency to give Joshua a high-quality bed. ]
Don't get me too comfortable, [ he murmurs as he slides next to his brother and loops his arms around his waist, nuzzling up like an oversized hound. ] I might fall asleep.
[ Half-joking, half-serious. Historically, Clive has always been a light sleeper unless Joshua was sharing the bed with him. ]
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Since the night before, it had been a long time since they’d shared a bed. After Phoenix Gate, Joshua had needed some time to recover - and once he had, he knew he was too old for it to be acceptable to sneak into his brother’s bed at night. As he grew, it ceased being sweet and innocent, became something with shades of impropriety. Or at least it felt that way to Joshua, though perhaps that was because his own thoughts began to turn less innocent.
But he’s missed it. The warmth of Clive’s body against his, the soft sound of his breath. The sense of safety that used to chase away his nightmares so easily. How he wishes Clive could stay.]
Would that you could. My bed will be far too cold without you.
[Joshua relaxes against Clive, warm and sated and pliant, enjoying that expanse of finely muscled skin against his own. He could fall asleep easily like this, he knows. But he also knows Clive has tended to him with such attentiveness, while setting aside his own needs.
He strokes a hand down Clive’s arm, and bends just enough to press his mouth to Clive’s shoulder. A gentle kiss, he stops short of nipping the skin. Given Clive’s exertions on the training ground today, Joshua knows he’s much more likely to be seen without a shirt than Joshua himself, so he ought not leave marks.
He’ll just have to treasure his own all the more for it.]
Let me take care of you. You’ve hardly been touched at all.
[The worst of crimes, really.]
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A strange thing, he thinks. Joshua is his brother. Who could blame him for holding his brother close to his heart?
And so, he doesn't take the luxury of his current closeness for granted. He cards his fingers through blond hair, bright and warm unlike his own raven-black; he'd always liked the way Joshua had settled against him when they were still young enough to get away with it, sunlight hair nested against Clive's shoulder, soft against his skin.
Really, he would be happy with just this. His own arousal is a dull ache, but not unmanageable; he could still steal away somewhere and take care of it on his own. ]
You needn't, if you're tired. [ Mindful, though he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't curious as to how Joshua might want to take care of him. ] And besides, I've touched you plenty.
[ 'Plenty' isn't 'enough', though. Clive doubts he'll ever know what 'enough' is when it comes to Joshua, which is exactly deranged enough that he hesitates to demand too much of Joshua right out of the gate. He says as much. ]
...Unless my clever brother wants to see how more more infatuated I can get.
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Of course I do.
[Pushing Clive gently back on the bed, Joshua climbs atop him, settling over his thighs. Not quite touching, Joshua doesn't rest his whole weight on Clive. Though he's rather sure Clive could stand it easily enough if he did, he doesn't want his brother to be uncomfortable.
Joshua is good at seeming confident, sure of himself. It's a skill, one he mastered years ago, one he uses all the time now that he's Archduke. He really doesn't know what he's doing - he has only his own fantasies, dirty books he shouldn't have been reading, and the brief time they've spent together - but he knows what he wants, and so he isn't going to hesitate. It doesn't matter if he's uncertain, unpracticed. He seems utterly sure of himself, for the moment.]
When we're apart, I want your thoughts to be full of me. I want you to think of me when you're alone. When you touch yourself.
[And doesn't that mean he ought to give Clive plenty to think of? He bends down, pressing his mouth to Clive's chest. Exploring, carefully - drawing his mouth along smooth skin, putting his lips to old scars he wasn't able to soothe away with his flames, brushing his teeth gently across one nipple.
He's wanted to do this. To taste Clive, to touch him. It feels wildly transgressive now that he's doing it, and despite his air of confidence Joshua is quite afraid he'll do something wrong - something Clive doesn't like, even something that might hurt him. But he wants far too much to let that fear stop him.
His hands go to Clive's trousers, fumbling with the buttons there.]
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And now－ well. He's a stately young man straddling Clive's thighs, making Clive's nerves go alight with just a few choice words. ]
You say so, as if you don't already occupy all of my thoughts. You'd faint if I knew what I've done to you in my head already.
[ A low sigh, as he arches subtly into the press of Joshua's lips. He could run a mile in full armor without letting his breath go ragged, but the feeling of that mouth against his chest, over his nipple, makes his pulse pound; Joshua should be able to feel Clive's heart jackhammering against his ribs, almost as if it wants to escape its confines to find its rightful place next to Joshua's heart.
He's still hard. Each touch makes that arousal feel a little more desperate for attention. When he feels fingers scrabble at his buttons, though, he laughs under his breath and reaches to help. ]
Patience, Joshua.
[ Maybe his brother isn't as composed or sure as he'd like to seem. It's terribly endearing, though he knows he ought not to patronize: Joshua is as capable as any young man his age could possibly be. Smiling about it, Clive hums and unfastens his trousers with one-handed ease, sighing warmly at the friction their hands make against the obvious outline of the erection straining between his legs. ]
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He tugs Clive's trousers down, shifting his weight just enough to move all that fabric between them out of the way. It's a bit of a balancing act - getting Clive's pants and underclothes off without moving too far away from him, which is the last thing Joshua wants to do right now - but it's manageable.]
When I see you like this, it's hard to have any patience at all.
[How is he supposed to, when Clive is laid out on his bed, hard and waiting to be touched? Joshua reaches out and wraps his hand around Clive. He's careful - this is all still new to him - but he doesn't hesitate. There's nothing he wants more right now than to give Clive pleasure.]
I do want to know, though. The things you've thought about.
[Joshua's had his own wandering thoughts, traveling places they should not. He used to drag his thoughts away, hate himself a little, fear Clive's disgust should he ever discover them. Now he wishes he'd indulged a bit more, learned what he could, so that he could be the kind of partner Clive deserves.]
Even the shocking ones. I don't think there's much I wouldn't do, if you were the one who wanted it.
[He begins to stroke Clive gently, blue eyes steady on him, wanting to be certain it feels good - but also simply wanting to look. It still feels impossible and new, seeing Clive like this, and Joshua wants to cling to every moment.]
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Oh, he's weak. All his years spent training and honing and steeling his spirit, and it's all for naught the moment Joshua gives him any scrap of attention. Joshua, who Clive always wants so terribly but felt he would never deserve; Joshua, who always soothes the worst of Clive's pathologies with a glance and a smile.
No one has ever given Clive permission, the way Joshua does. All his life, Clive had thought that maybe it was his virtue that he found meaning in finding the right place to die― it's only ever been Joshua that has told him to live, instead. ]
I'd speak on it, [ he finally huffs, hoarse but amused. ] But I'm finding it harder and harder to think.
[ And so, he'll have to tell Joshua about his very impolite thoughts when his brain isn't quite so scrambled. Last night had been a desperate sort of shoving together, a hurried rush to touch each other before either one of them could decide not to; tonight, Clive is starkly aware of how gentle and measured Joshua is being, and how his brother is watching so intently, and the scrutiny dusts a flush across his face. ]
...Come here. [ To hide his slight bashfulness, he reaches for Joshua and pulls him closer, claiming his mouth to distract him from looking. He cups that beautiful face, tipping it for a better angle to deepen their kiss, flooding arousal into Joshua's mouth with each exhale. His breath comes at the pace Joshua is stroking him, hitches and hikes when something feels just right. ]
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