[Clive's touch is - a distraction, but one that Joshua doesn't allow himself to give in to. He knows that Clive must have blamed himself for Phoenix Gate, because he knows Clive, his loyal heart and his devotion. But hearing it is something else, and Joshua too feels that immediate disagreement, that desire to reject those awful words.
He reaches up, covers Clive's hand with his own (to keep his attention, that's all, that's surely enough reason). His voice is steady.]
You didn't. You can't be held responsible for something that happened when you had no control of yourself, before you even knew of Ifrit's existence.
[He remembers the shock of it, when Cyril told him that the Undying had reason to believe that Clive held Ifrit, that Clive had been responsible for the damage that Joshua survived only through the Phoenix's power. He remembers too, the moment afterward, when Cyril told him that they intended to send assassins after him. That he was a threat who needed to be eliminated. Joshua hadn't even thought about his response, had only refused, had ordered them not to. He'd used every bit of what authority he had. In the end, he thinks it was only his tears that had convinced Cyril to obey.
He had been acting on instinct, on his bone-deep certainty that Clive would never hurt him. That there must have been something else going on. And everything he's learned since then has only convinced him of that truth.]
I've never blamed you. I wanted to be by your side - I've wanted it all along.
[ The hand over his is a welcome affirmation, but it's wholly unnecessary if its intention is to hold Clive's attention: Joshua will always have it, in every context and for any reason at all. Clive smooths his thumb just under one of Joshua's frost-blue eyes, along his cheekbone and up to his temple, framing that beautiful face with his sword-callused fingers. ]
I hurt you, [ he protests quietly, though he relinquishes that line of thought a moment later. It's not his intention to make his brother defend him, and he doesn't care to make Joshua do such a thing. What he can do, however, is offer the same promise he'd made back in the infirmary: ] Never again.
[ His touch travels to Joshua's perfect ear, and to the matching cuff that sits pretty on it. Clive had fought tooth and nail to keep his, especially when he was a Bearer with no rights to call his own. ]
―If what you want is to be by my side, then we shall face our fates together. You needn't ever ask if you're entitled to me. I was born for you.
[ It matters so little that he came into this world first. Everything he's ever been, it'd always been for Joshua. ]
[It's almost too much, Clive touching him like that. Like he's something precious, something Clive wants to touch. Despite the emotional weight of Clive's words, Joshua still feels a thrill at his touch, still can't control the way he feels. Which is - unfair, especially when Clive is being so kind, so devoted. If he knew, surely he wouldn't say those things.
It's that guilt that forces Joshua's honesty.]
Don't say that. You deserve to have your own life. You - wouldn't say that if you knew the sort of person I can be.
[How could he? Swearing his loyalty while Joshua has these awful thoughts about him, while Joshua looks at him and wants him. His own brother. Touching him so easily, and not knowing the effect of that touch. Joshua might have been lying to himself this whole time, but his lies to Clive have been a thousand times worse.
He regrets saying it once he's said it. He knows Clive will have questions, and he doesn't know if he can be honest. He doesn't want to lose this, doesn't want Clive to look at him with disgust or horror. He just wants to stay by Clive's side, to help him and keep him safe however he can.]
[ Those words feel like a rejection. For a second, Clive stares at Joshua, uncomprehending, before he reasserts his stance on the matter－ that full-bodied no again, head moving from side to side, his shoulders tense. ]
Why... [ "...would you say that", is the rest, which he swallows. ] ...Joshua. None of us have lived these past years without dirtying our hands.
[ Which is what Clive assumes Joshua is talking about, and if so, Clive is the most guilty of killing countless to save a handful. His hands are bloodstained, and yet he still has the audacity to touch his brother with them; worse yet, he wants to touch Joshua with them. ]
Nothing could ever make me want to leave your side. How could you even think it?
[How could Clive not want to leave his side? He would stay, though, because he's vowed to, and the thought of that is more awful than anything. But Joshua's come too far now. He takes a breath, suddenly afraid he might cry. Feeling the pressure behind his eyes, trying to steady himself.]
Now that I've found you, I don't want to lose you again.
[It would be so easy to explain it away. Clive's prepared a ready excuse for him, even. But how could it ring true? Joshua is not so tender-hearted as to feel overly guilty about the lives he's taken, most of them done in defense of his own life. It was never easy, but he doesn't carry them with him, either. And Clive deserves better than a lie.
But how can he even explain this? What can he say?]
I love you dearly, Clive. More than I should. [A correction, because there's no point in not being clear, even if his voice shakes, even if he can't meet Clive's eyes.] More than a brother should.
[ He doesn't understand, he doesn't understand, he doesn't understand―
―until he does, when the weight of the word more settles properly where it's been placed in his metaphorical hands, punctuated by the look on Joshua's face. Immediately, he identifies it as the more haunting his own thoughts; the more that has made Ifrit roil and thrash in Clive's chest ever since it became Risen. The yearning in his heart, given teeth.
He should recoil from it. Not because the thought of being loved by Joshua repulses him, but because it doesn't. Because he has sworn to protect his brother from every evil, including this taboo. Because Clive mirrors the thing he's meant to dissuade.
Still. He can't recoil. He sits in this thing that should have remained unnamed between them, his hand traveling from Joshua's cheek to his jaw and lower still, until his palm is cradling his brother's nape. ]
Joshua. [ Softly, barely more than a murmur. ] Still, I was born for you.
[ Defying his brother's previous assertion that he wouldn't say so if he knew the so-called person that Joshua is. It's the closest thing to an I love you that Clive will allow himself in the moment. ]
[He feared disgust, horror. He feared losing Clive, or knowing that every time he looked at Joshua he was doing so with wariness. That Clive doesn’t move away, that he even remains touching Joshua, that he still insists on devotion, feels impossible.
It’s more than Joshua could have hoped for. It’s such a relief that he nearly does cry, and he has to raise a hand to his eyes to wipe away the wetness there before it’s too obvious.]
I’ll never do anything. I swear it, Clive.
[But he already has, hasn’t he? He looked at Clive and thought about touching him. He thrilled at every affectionate embrace, and he lied to himself about why. But he will keep this vow, he tells himself. Clive doesn’t hate him, a miracle that he can only be thankful for. Clive deserves to feel safe around him, not to always be wondering where his thoughts may lie.]
I want to be by your side. I don’t - need anything else from you.
[Joshua may not be able to control what he wants, who he wants, but he can control his actions. He can do that much, surely. No matter how difficult it may be.]
[ And oh, if you wouldn't say that hurt before, it's nothing compared to I don't need anything else from you. Joshua could drive a knife between his ribs, and Clive thinks it would ache less than his brother promising never to trouble Clive again with his feelings.
Joshua, his brother. That strong little boy who smiled at Clive when no one else would; that formidable young man who left a phoenix feather for Clive to carry when the world came crumbling down around him yet again. Joshua, who bore everything and asked for so little. The thought of becoming yet another thing that his brother will have to tamp down on and endure is unthinkable－ it devastates Clive in ways he could never have imagined.
He's hurting Joshua. With every breath, he's adding to Joshua's pain. Clive fights with the notion, grapples with himself, grits his teeth at the sight of tears on that perfect face. Silence stretches between them, too long and too heavy, before Clive huffs, trembles, and breaks.
His hand travels up again. This time, it sits on Joshua's cheek. Bracing him, tilting him. It's shameful how much his own heart wants this, and so－
－Clive presses their mouths together, gentle and brief. The feeling of it is as perfect as anything could be, and it makes Clive's head spin to realize it. ]
...Blame me, [ he rasps. ] Blame me for this transgression, Joshua.
[ If anyone ever finds out, Clive was responsible. He crossed the line. Joshua will never be held responsible for this; he'll make sure of it. ]
[Joshua goes still. He hadn't even entertained the idea of Clive sharing his feelings. It had simply not been something he'd considered the possibility of. The best he hoped for was that Clive would not hate him, would still care for him, still want to be around him. Just thinking that was the case had been a relief, a sense of release. To have his secret known, and to not lose his brother because of it.
But Clive kissed him. There and gone again, barely more than a moment, but to Joshua it was everything. Unexpected and impossible, but perfect. His heart could stutter to a halt, and he thinks he would hardly notice.
The sudden shock of joy is tempered with reality. Even if their feelings are shared, they are still brothers. Joshua knows it is wrong, and yet Clive is willing to take the sin upon his shoulders. It isn't fair, when he has so much upon them already. It would be kinder to put distance between them, he knows, before Clive is tainted by this. But while Joshua could be noble when he thought his feelings could never be returned, he doesn't have that sort of nobility in him if Clive feels even a fraction of the same thing he does.
In this, he will be selfish.]
The world may rightfully blame both of us, [his voice still shakes a little,] but you will never receive any blame from me.
[He reaches out, catching Clive's other hand, clinging to him with a certain desperation.]
[ It's the reciprocity that frightens Clive the most. The knowledge that, if Joshua shares in this, the only options left to Clive are to embrace their fate and stay together, or to deny it entirely and live the rest of their lives in a lie.
The former is taboo; the latter is torture. Of all the horrific nightmares that Clive has had to endure, losing Joshua was the worst of it. Losing Joshua again, now, would break him.
He thumbs across Joshua's cheek again, breath shuddering at being clung to. It feels like benediction. It feels good. ]
Founder, I keep failing you. [ He should be the one talking Joshua off this ledge. Instead, the mattress creaks under his weight (it sounds miles away), and Clive leans forward, dark hair brushing against Joshua's sun-gold. ] ―I'd deny you nothing.
[ As many times as you want, he mouths. Almost as if he's afraid to say it out loud, even if it's what he wants. It burns him, all this wanting. ]
[He says it with absolute certainty, even a bit of vehemence. He knows what Clive must be thinking, because his thoughts have gone down the same paths - that even if they want each other, they shouldn't do this. That the world, that everyone around them would see it as something horrible. That it could be their ruin, if they aren't careful.
But if there's something wrong with Joshua that caused this, something twisted deep down, it isn't Clive's fault. And Joshua doesn't care what the world might think of him, only what damage it might do to his brother. And even with that fear, he can't stop himself. He can't stop wanting what he wants. And he wants so badly.
His hand comes up, touching Clive's cheek, the stubble there, the scar. As much as Joshua wishes he could have prevented that scar, in the end it only makes Clive more handsome.
Joshua leans in, careful but without hesitation, and presses his lips to Clive's. It's not the brief bright contact from before, but slower, aching, passion tightly leashed. He doesn't know where the boundaries are, but he knows he wants to cross them even now. He feels it through his entire body.]
[ It's likely that the boundaries never existed at all. Clive said born for you, and he'd meant it: Joshua touches him, then kisses him, and all the things he'd kept tightly-coiled in his heart, reinforced by time and propriety, start to unravel.
His palm slides up, fingers tangling in gold hair. He breathes through his nose, and hangs in that moment with his mouth pressed to Joshua's, resisting the urge to part his lips for only a glimmer of a second before he gives in to it. His next exhale is open-mouthed, destroying what little veneer of innocence they could have fallen back on.
Again: it feels good. Like how he'd felt when they were as one, their Eikons merged into one perfect entity, invincible. The way it should always have been, he'd thought.
The bed creaks under their combined weight, this time. Clive's tongue traces Joshua's teeth, and he hums into that contact, lest his brother think himself the only one who's been grappling with this wrongness.
When he comes up for air, all he can think to say is a shaky: ] Fuck.
[That pulls a quiet, surprised laugh from Joshua. Though really, he agrees - as much as he might have looked at Clive and wanted him, the reality is so much more. There may have been some lingering fear in the back of his mind that Clive might have been doing this to placate him, to make him happy, but if there was it's gone now.
Clive kissed him like - like he wanted him, like this was real. Joshua has never been kissed like that before. Or maybe it's just that he's never kissed anyone he wanted so badly before, never kissed someone he believed he could never have. Never kissed Clive. He still feels warm from it, flushed, even a little light-headed.
They probably both need to think about this, about what they're doing. But they've already stepped past the borders of what brothers should do, regardless of what they do from here. Joshua knows it should feel wrong, but he can only be startled by the rightness of it.
He leans in, rests his forehead against Clive's, breathes just for a moment before he speaks again.]
[ Clive feels his face warm, and inwardly kicks himself for the crude nature of his reaction. It wasn't meant to be a regretful fuck― more like a I am overwhelmed kind of fuck. He's quick to correct himself once Joshua offers his response, voice coarse and warm. ]
And neither will I.
[ Again, lest Joshua mistake any of this for some misguided attempt at self-sacrifice or pity. Imperfect being that Clive is, this is yet another choice he's made in defiance of everything; and yet, it doesn't haunt him like some of the others have.
Fingers soothe through Joshua's hair once more, then relent. Clive retracts his touch, retracts from that intimate space, and leans back for a better look at Joshua again from a more polite vantage point. ]
Ever since Phoenix Gate, my heart was always looking for you.
[He looks back at Clive, studying him, really letting himself look for once. Without lying to himself.
Joshua has always known that Clive was handsome. That’s been true since they were both boys, and he’s only grown into it now. They don’t look all that similar, with Joshua’s light hair and thinner frame, and when he was young he wished he looked more like Clive. He doesn’t really anymore - he’d only be a pale imitation of something he hardly wants to look away from.
Clive’s words linger in his mind. I was born for you. He doesn’t want Clive to feel tied to him, but even so the thought of it gives him a selfish, clinging joy. He’s been yearning for Clive all this time, too, wanting so much to be by his side.]
I think perhaps I was born for you, too.
[If it were true, it would only make him happy. If Clive were his other half. He felt it before, in the skies above Twinside, so maybe it is true.]
[ You were always your father's son, Anabella had spat at him. Elwin Rosfield, also bypassed by the Phoenix, who Clive took all of his prominent features from. Now, looking back, it's small wonder why she hated him so vehemently and loved Joshua so ardently.
There's so much more of her, physically, in his brother, but the cosmetic similarities never add up to any sort of resemblance. Joshua wears his gold and grace with the kind of gentle kindness Anabella never possessed; he was, and still is, the most beautiful thing to ever walk this earth. ]
And so, [ he breathes, almost laughing in disbelief. ] Here we are. Together.
[ Crazy. Not a single other soul in the world will celebrate this unholy union between blood, and yet. Now that it's been made manifest through words and touch, Clive has no idea how to put his feelings back into that tightly-packed box again.
So: ]
―Promise me one thing, Joshua.
[ A little thorn, still metaphorically stuck under his skin. ] ...Never tell me that you'll need nothing from me again.
[Joshua’s gaze softens. He wants to reach out, soothe away any pain he might have caused - and he realizes abruptly that he can. That it’s all right if he does, that he doesn’t have to fear his own feelings. For once.
So he takes Clive’s hand, brushing his thumb along the back of it, feeling those sword callouses against his palm.]
I didn’t want you to feel - unsafe with me. [An explanation, but a quiet one, apologetic.] I didn’t think it was fair to want anything from you. I didn’t think it was possible for you to be anything but disgusted with me.
[That he was wrong still feels impossible, like a miracle. Despite everything, Joshua has never really thought of his life as unlucky, cursed - and in this, he feels like he’s received a blessing he could never have hoped for.]
I won’t ever say that again. It was never true anyway. I need you desperately, Clive.
[ Their hands fold together, and Clive feels the same certitude he'd felt on the day Joshua blessed him with the power of the Phoenix. A steady, inextinguishable warmth. ]
Then let me tend to your every need. [ He breathes, squeezing lightly around Joshua's grip. ] We'll need to lie to the world, but we needn't lie to each other.
[ For a given value of lie. Clive, famously bad at not telling the truth, will have to commit to lying by omission; people will see them, presume, and he'll have to stick staunchly to not saying anything at all. It's a terrible thing to have consigned Joshua to, but if anything happens, he'll do exactly as he's already declared: he'll take the blame for everything.
A low exhale later, venting tension, and he tries for something a little lighter. ]
...Though, make no mistake― I'll still insist that you eat your vegetables.
[The same old Clive, the one that Joshua loves so desperately. He can’t help but smile.]
So long as they aren’t carrots. I can handle anything else.
[Joshua cares little for what the world might think of him. His own death has been breathing down his neck for some time now, every time Ultima scratches at its bonds. He’ll never say that to Clive, knowing it would hurt him - but to Joshua, it’s simply how things are. And since that the case, he sees no reason to care overmuch about the condemnation of others.
It is taboo, it is wrong. He’ll keep it a secret, because he would never want Clive to bear the consequences. But Joshua only wants to be happy while he can, wants to hold on to something he never thought possible.]
I never want you to feel like you must do something you don’t want to do in order to make me happy. My needs - [which are suddenly real, suddenly something he can have,] - are not the only thing that should guide us.
[Because kissing is one thing. Joshua’s desires, now that he isn’t looking away from them in fear, go much further.]
[ 'Ill-advised' is probably the most charitable descriptor for what they've gotten themselves into. Clive will have to sit with this for a while, the way he did when he first accepted his role as Ifrit's Dominant, and consider the ramifications of his actions. He won't regret the decision he's made, no, but it's still something that requires a careful touch.
His thumb smooths over Joshua's knuckles. Despite everything, Clive smiles. ]
I'm your brother, not your lackey. If you worry about me being a mindless servant, well－ [ A nudge, elbow to Joshua's side. ] －I won't be. I was never good at that.
[ Dutiful and committed to doing his part, yes, but never without his opinions. He wouldn't have lasted a day with Rodney Murdoch otherwise, especially given his age. ]
Besides. [ Another nudge. He feels more comfortable with the contact now that he isn't keeping himself on a leash－ or, well. A less careful leash. There's still the inclination to do something more unspeakable, and that instinct is still kept on a short tether. ] I can't refuse what I'm not aware of.
[He bumps his elbow against Clive in return. This at least feels normal now - like they can be easy together in a way that was fraught before, even if Joshua didn’t realize Clive might be feeling the same way.]
It may take me a little time. I don’t have much experience with this sort of thing.
[He isn’t embarrassed to admit it. When would he have had time, really? He spent so long recovering, and then started journeying across the land as soon as he was able. Joshua never had much inclination to brief assignations, and he never stayed long enough in one spot for anything more.
A few small flirtations is the extent of his experience. Not that he wouldn’t have liked more, of course, being a bit of a romantic, but there was always something more important. Clive was always more important.
Which isn’t to say he doesn’t want things. He does, very badly. But finding the words, knowing what to ask for, having the courage for it - that part will be more difficult.]
You’ve already given me more than I ever thought I could have.
[ Clive listens, and― oh. Those needs. The context finally hits Clive like a ten-ton anvil, and he sits there, mute, for the second he requires to blink stars out of his eyes.
He clears his throat. He, too, has no experience with 'this sort of thing', as Joshua put it. A Bearer for thirteen years after their lives collapsed, and an outlaw for the five following― he's become a stranger to gentle words and gentler touch. The thought that he could be permitted to try his hand at intimacy is overwhelming enough, but the idea of engaging in it with Joshua is...
...a lot. Far too much for him to contend with in this moment. If kissing Joshua felt as perfect as it did, properly touching him might drive Clive mad. ]
―We'll both think on it.
[ His hand is warm in Joshua's, and he gives it one more squeeze before slowly untangling their fingers.
He should feel more sorry for any of this, for all of this. He doesn't. ]
I just ask that you remember that I won't push you away.
[He lets Clive’s hand go - a little reluctantly, but he does. Some part of Joshua even now has a hard time believing this is real. Like if he lets Clive go, it will disappear, and Clive will never look at him the way he wishes for again.
But he knows that isn’t true. Clive would never do something like that, not his kind, steadfast brother. If he says he won’t push Joshua away, then it’s true.]
I’ll remember, but you must, as well.
[He may not be quite as adept at caring for someone as Clive is - but Joshua wants to give him that, too. They’ve already stepped far beyond the bounds of what their relationship should be. Joshua does not intend to hesitate again, not for a moment.
When he chooses a path, he is set, even if it should lead to his own doom.]
Whatever may come of this, know that I love you.
[And that will remain true no matter what might happen.]
[ Marching ever onwards to their doom is decidedly not the future that Clive wants for Joshua. What he wants for Joshua is freedom from the scrutiny of others, for him to be able to live without bounds and rules to tie him, to live without titles and assumptions that he's beholden to.
Clive wonders if he hasn't taken that away from Joshua by doing this－ if he hasn't assigned him to a lifetime of looking over his shoulder.
Still, Clive can only tell the truth when Joshua tells him that he's loved. His reply is as simple and earnest as the broad arc of a greatsword. ]
And I, you.
[ Forevermore, he thinks. A bit too on-the-nose; he keeps it to himself. ]
Our fates might not be written, [ in defiance of Ultima, who would have them believe that they're creatures fated to die out, ] but mine is linked, inextricably, to yours.
[ By choice. He smiles, then ruffles Joshua's hair. ]
Now go back to your reading, else I'll stay distracted the rest of the night.
[Joshua knows that's true. Whatever may come, however they live their lives, they will always be connected. Not only by their eikons - though the Phoenix and Ifrit are certainly intertwined in a way he doesn't truly understand yet - but by their own choice. They will fight together, now, though Joshua truly hopes they won't die together.
Either way, he doesn't intend to ever let Clive face Ultima alone.]
You see? I told you if you let me read in here I'd be distracting you all the time.
[He is smiling, teasing affectionately. This wasn't exactly what he'd been thinking, but it ends up the same, doesn't it? Clive, not doing his work, all because of him.
Honestly, Joshua's a bit pleased to be proven right. But then, he's pleased about a lot of things at the moment.]
Go get your work done. I'll try to behave.
[He might be able to actually read now - though he knows he'll still be stealing glances at Clive, marveling that this could have happened. Wondering if it's real, hoping that it remains so. But the book might get some of his attention, at least.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He reaches up, covers Clive's hand with his own (to keep his attention, that's all, that's surely enough reason). His voice is steady.]
You didn't. You can't be held responsible for something that happened when you had no control of yourself, before you even knew of Ifrit's existence.
[He remembers the shock of it, when Cyril told him that the Undying had reason to believe that Clive held Ifrit, that Clive had been responsible for the damage that Joshua survived only through the Phoenix's power. He remembers too, the moment afterward, when Cyril told him that they intended to send assassins after him. That he was a threat who needed to be eliminated. Joshua hadn't even thought about his response, had only refused, had ordered them not to. He'd used every bit of what authority he had. In the end, he thinks it was only his tears that had convinced Cyril to obey.
He had been acting on instinct, on his bone-deep certainty that Clive would never hurt him. That there must have been something else going on. And everything he's learned since then has only convinced him of that truth.]
I've never blamed you. I wanted to be by your side - I've wanted it all along.
no subject
I hurt you, [ he protests quietly, though he relinquishes that line of thought a moment later. It's not his intention to make his brother defend him, and he doesn't care to make Joshua do such a thing. What he can do, however, is offer the same promise he'd made back in the infirmary: ] Never again.
[ His touch travels to Joshua's perfect ear, and to the matching cuff that sits pretty on it. Clive had fought tooth and nail to keep his, especially when he was a Bearer with no rights to call his own. ]
―If what you want is to be by my side, then we shall face our fates together. You needn't ever ask if you're entitled to me. I was born for you.
[ It matters so little that he came into this world first. Everything he's ever been, it'd always been for Joshua. ]
no subject
It's that guilt that forces Joshua's honesty.]
Don't say that. You deserve to have your own life. You - wouldn't say that if you knew the sort of person I can be.
[How could he? Swearing his loyalty while Joshua has these awful thoughts about him, while Joshua looks at him and wants him. His own brother. Touching him so easily, and not knowing the effect of that touch. Joshua might have been lying to himself this whole time, but his lies to Clive have been a thousand times worse.
He regrets saying it once he's said it. He knows Clive will have questions, and he doesn't know if he can be honest. He doesn't want to lose this, doesn't want Clive to look at him with disgust or horror. He just wants to stay by Clive's side, to help him and keep him safe however he can.]
no subject
Why... [ "...would you say that", is the rest, which he swallows. ] ...Joshua. None of us have lived these past years without dirtying our hands.
[ Which is what Clive assumes Joshua is talking about, and if so, Clive is the most guilty of killing countless to save a handful. His hands are bloodstained, and yet he still has the audacity to touch his brother with them; worse yet, he wants to touch Joshua with them. ]
Nothing could ever make me want to leave your side. How could you even think it?
no subject
Now that I've found you, I don't want to lose you again.
[It would be so easy to explain it away. Clive's prepared a ready excuse for him, even. But how could it ring true? Joshua is not so tender-hearted as to feel overly guilty about the lives he's taken, most of them done in defense of his own life. It was never easy, but he doesn't carry them with him, either. And Clive deserves better than a lie.
But how can he even explain this? What can he say?]
I love you dearly, Clive. More than I should. [A correction, because there's no point in not being clear, even if his voice shakes, even if he can't meet Clive's eyes.] More than a brother should.
no subject
―until he does, when the weight of the word more settles properly where it's been placed in his metaphorical hands, punctuated by the look on Joshua's face. Immediately, he identifies it as the more haunting his own thoughts; the more that has made Ifrit roil and thrash in Clive's chest ever since it became Risen. The yearning in his heart, given teeth.
He should recoil from it. Not because the thought of being loved by Joshua repulses him, but because it doesn't. Because he has sworn to protect his brother from every evil, including this taboo. Because Clive mirrors the thing he's meant to dissuade.
Still. He can't recoil. He sits in this thing that should have remained unnamed between them, his hand traveling from Joshua's cheek to his jaw and lower still, until his palm is cradling his brother's nape. ]
Joshua. [ Softly, barely more than a murmur. ] Still, I was born for you.
[ Defying his brother's previous assertion that he wouldn't say so if he knew the so-called person that Joshua is. It's the closest thing to an I love you that Clive will allow himself in the moment. ]
no subject
It’s more than Joshua could have hoped for. It’s such a relief that he nearly does cry, and he has to raise a hand to his eyes to wipe away the wetness there before it’s too obvious.]
I’ll never do anything. I swear it, Clive.
[But he already has, hasn’t he? He looked at Clive and thought about touching him. He thrilled at every affectionate embrace, and he lied to himself about why. But he will keep this vow, he tells himself. Clive doesn’t hate him, a miracle that he can only be thankful for. Clive deserves to feel safe around him, not to always be wondering where his thoughts may lie.]
I want to be by your side. I don’t - need anything else from you.
[Joshua may not be able to control what he wants, who he wants, but he can control his actions. He can do that much, surely. No matter how difficult it may be.]
no subject
Joshua, his brother. That strong little boy who smiled at Clive when no one else would; that formidable young man who left a phoenix feather for Clive to carry when the world came crumbling down around him yet again. Joshua, who bore everything and asked for so little. The thought of becoming yet another thing that his brother will have to tamp down on and endure is unthinkable－ it devastates Clive in ways he could never have imagined.
He's hurting Joshua. With every breath, he's adding to Joshua's pain. Clive fights with the notion, grapples with himself, grits his teeth at the sight of tears on that perfect face. Silence stretches between them, too long and too heavy, before Clive huffs, trembles, and breaks.
His hand travels up again. This time, it sits on Joshua's cheek. Bracing him, tilting him. It's shameful how much his own heart wants this, and so－
－Clive presses their mouths together, gentle and brief. The feeling of it is as perfect as anything could be, and it makes Clive's head spin to realize it. ]
...Blame me, [ he rasps. ] Blame me for this transgression, Joshua.
[ If anyone ever finds out, Clive was responsible. He crossed the line. Joshua will never be held responsible for this; he'll make sure of it. ]
I won't have you suffer what we both share.
no subject
But Clive kissed him. There and gone again, barely more than a moment, but to Joshua it was everything. Unexpected and impossible, but perfect. His heart could stutter to a halt, and he thinks he would hardly notice.
The sudden shock of joy is tempered with reality. Even if their feelings are shared, they are still brothers. Joshua knows it is wrong, and yet Clive is willing to take the sin upon his shoulders. It isn't fair, when he has so much upon them already. It would be kinder to put distance between them, he knows, before Clive is tainted by this. But while Joshua could be noble when he thought his feelings could never be returned, he doesn't have that sort of nobility in him if Clive feels even a fraction of the same thing he does.
In this, he will be selfish.]
The world may rightfully blame both of us, [his voice still shakes a little,] but you will never receive any blame from me.
[He reaches out, catching Clive's other hand, clinging to him with a certain desperation.]
Let me kiss you again. At least once more.
no subject
The former is taboo; the latter is torture. Of all the horrific nightmares that Clive has had to endure, losing Joshua was the worst of it. Losing Joshua again, now, would break him.
He thumbs across Joshua's cheek again, breath shuddering at being clung to. It feels like benediction. It feels good. ]
Founder, I keep failing you. [ He should be the one talking Joshua off this ledge. Instead, the mattress creaks under his weight (it sounds miles away), and Clive leans forward, dark hair brushing against Joshua's sun-gold. ] ―I'd deny you nothing.
[ As many times as you want, he mouths. Almost as if he's afraid to say it out loud, even if it's what he wants. It burns him, all this wanting. ]
no subject
[He says it with absolute certainty, even a bit of vehemence. He knows what Clive must be thinking, because his thoughts have gone down the same paths - that even if they want each other, they shouldn't do this. That the world, that everyone around them would see it as something horrible. That it could be their ruin, if they aren't careful.
But if there's something wrong with Joshua that caused this, something twisted deep down, it isn't Clive's fault. And Joshua doesn't care what the world might think of him, only what damage it might do to his brother. And even with that fear, he can't stop himself. He can't stop wanting what he wants. And he wants so badly.
His hand comes up, touching Clive's cheek, the stubble there, the scar. As much as Joshua wishes he could have prevented that scar, in the end it only makes Clive more handsome.
Joshua leans in, careful but without hesitation, and presses his lips to Clive's. It's not the brief bright contact from before, but slower, aching, passion tightly leashed. He doesn't know where the boundaries are, but he knows he wants to cross them even now. He feels it through his entire body.]
no subject
His palm slides up, fingers tangling in gold hair. He breathes through his nose, and hangs in that moment with his mouth pressed to Joshua's, resisting the urge to part his lips for only a glimmer of a second before he gives in to it. His next exhale is open-mouthed, destroying what little veneer of innocence they could have fallen back on.
Again: it feels good. Like how he'd felt when they were as one, their Eikons merged into one perfect entity, invincible. The way it should always have been, he'd thought.
The bed creaks under their combined weight, this time. Clive's tongue traces Joshua's teeth, and he hums into that contact, lest his brother think himself the only one who's been grappling with this wrongness.
When he comes up for air, all he can think to say is a shaky: ] Fuck.
[ Very eloquent of him, he knows. ]
no subject
Clive kissed him like - like he wanted him, like this was real. Joshua has never been kissed like that before. Or maybe it's just that he's never kissed anyone he wanted so badly before, never kissed someone he believed he could never have. Never kissed Clive. He still feels warm from it, flushed, even a little light-headed.
They probably both need to think about this, about what they're doing. But they've already stepped past the borders of what brothers should do, regardless of what they do from here. Joshua knows it should feel wrong, but he can only be startled by the rightness of it.
He leans in, rests his forehead against Clive's, breathes just for a moment before he speaks again.]
Whatever comes of this, I will never regret that.
no subject
And neither will I.
[ Again, lest Joshua mistake any of this for some misguided attempt at self-sacrifice or pity. Imperfect being that Clive is, this is yet another choice he's made in defiance of everything; and yet, it doesn't haunt him like some of the others have.
Fingers soothe through Joshua's hair once more, then relent. Clive retracts his touch, retracts from that intimate space, and leans back for a better look at Joshua again from a more polite vantage point. ]
Ever since Phoenix Gate, my heart was always looking for you.
no subject
Joshua has always known that Clive was handsome. That’s been true since they were both boys, and he’s only grown into it now. They don’t look all that similar, with Joshua’s light hair and thinner frame, and when he was young he wished he looked more like Clive. He doesn’t really anymore - he’d only be a pale imitation of something he hardly wants to look away from.
Clive’s words linger in his mind. I was born for you. He doesn’t want Clive to feel tied to him, but even so the thought of it gives him a selfish, clinging joy. He’s been yearning for Clive all this time, too, wanting so much to be by his side.]
I think perhaps I was born for you, too.
[If it were true, it would only make him happy. If Clive were his other half. He felt it before, in the skies above Twinside, so maybe it is true.]
no subject
There's so much more of her, physically, in his brother, but the cosmetic similarities never add up to any sort of resemblance. Joshua wears his gold and grace with the kind of gentle kindness Anabella never possessed; he was, and still is, the most beautiful thing to ever walk this earth. ]
And so, [ he breathes, almost laughing in disbelief. ] Here we are. Together.
[ Crazy. Not a single other soul in the world will celebrate this unholy union between blood, and yet. Now that it's been made manifest through words and touch, Clive has no idea how to put his feelings back into that tightly-packed box again.
So: ]
―Promise me one thing, Joshua.
[ A little thorn, still metaphorically stuck under his skin. ] ...Never tell me that you'll need nothing from me again.
no subject
So he takes Clive’s hand, brushing his thumb along the back of it, feeling those sword callouses against his palm.]
I didn’t want you to feel - unsafe with me. [An explanation, but a quiet one, apologetic.] I didn’t think it was fair to want anything from you. I didn’t think it was possible for you to be anything but disgusted with me.
[That he was wrong still feels impossible, like a miracle. Despite everything, Joshua has never really thought of his life as unlucky, cursed - and in this, he feels like he’s received a blessing he could never have hoped for.]
I won’t ever say that again. It was never true anyway. I need you desperately, Clive.
no subject
Then let me tend to your every need. [ He breathes, squeezing lightly around Joshua's grip. ] We'll need to lie to the world, but we needn't lie to each other.
[ For a given value of lie. Clive, famously bad at not telling the truth, will have to commit to lying by omission; people will see them, presume, and he'll have to stick staunchly to not saying anything at all. It's a terrible thing to have consigned Joshua to, but if anything happens, he'll do exactly as he's already declared: he'll take the blame for everything.
A low exhale later, venting tension, and he tries for something a little lighter. ]
...Though, make no mistake― I'll still insist that you eat your vegetables.
[ Same old Clive. ]
no subject
So long as they aren’t carrots. I can handle anything else.
[Joshua cares little for what the world might think of him. His own death has been breathing down his neck for some time now, every time Ultima scratches at its bonds. He’ll never say that to Clive, knowing it would hurt him - but to Joshua, it’s simply how things are. And since that the case, he sees no reason to care overmuch about the condemnation of others.
It is taboo, it is wrong. He’ll keep it a secret, because he would never want Clive to bear the consequences. But Joshua only wants to be happy while he can, wants to hold on to something he never thought possible.]
I never want you to feel like you must do something you don’t want to do in order to make me happy. My needs - [which are suddenly real, suddenly something he can have,] - are not the only thing that should guide us.
[Because kissing is one thing. Joshua’s desires, now that he isn’t looking away from them in fear, go much further.]
no subject
His thumb smooths over Joshua's knuckles. Despite everything, Clive smiles. ]
I'm your brother, not your lackey. If you worry about me being a mindless servant, well－ [ A nudge, elbow to Joshua's side. ] －I won't be. I was never good at that.
[ Dutiful and committed to doing his part, yes, but never without his opinions. He wouldn't have lasted a day with Rodney Murdoch otherwise, especially given his age. ]
Besides. [ Another nudge. He feels more comfortable with the contact now that he isn't keeping himself on a leash－ or, well. A less careful leash. There's still the inclination to do something more unspeakable, and that instinct is still kept on a short tether. ] I can't refuse what I'm not aware of.
[ "So you can tell me anything," is implied. ]
no subject
It may take me a little time. I don’t have much experience with this sort of thing.
[He isn’t embarrassed to admit it. When would he have had time, really? He spent so long recovering, and then started journeying across the land as soon as he was able. Joshua never had much inclination to brief assignations, and he never stayed long enough in one spot for anything more.
A few small flirtations is the extent of his experience. Not that he wouldn’t have liked more, of course, being a bit of a romantic, but there was always something more important. Clive was always more important.
Which isn’t to say he doesn’t want things. He does, very badly. But finding the words, knowing what to ask for, having the courage for it - that part will be more difficult.]
You’ve already given me more than I ever thought I could have.
no subject
He clears his throat. He, too, has no experience with 'this sort of thing', as Joshua put it. A Bearer for thirteen years after their lives collapsed, and an outlaw for the five following― he's become a stranger to gentle words and gentler touch. The thought that he could be permitted to try his hand at intimacy is overwhelming enough, but the idea of engaging in it with Joshua is...
...a lot. Far too much for him to contend with in this moment. If kissing Joshua felt as perfect as it did, properly touching him might drive Clive mad. ]
―We'll both think on it.
[ His hand is warm in Joshua's, and he gives it one more squeeze before slowly untangling their fingers.
He should feel more sorry for any of this, for all of this. He doesn't. ]
I just ask that you remember that I won't push you away.
no subject
But he knows that isn’t true. Clive would never do something like that, not his kind, steadfast brother. If he says he won’t push Joshua away, then it’s true.]
I’ll remember, but you must, as well.
[He may not be quite as adept at caring for someone as Clive is - but Joshua wants to give him that, too. They’ve already stepped far beyond the bounds of what their relationship should be. Joshua does not intend to hesitate again, not for a moment.
When he chooses a path, he is set, even if it should lead to his own doom.]
Whatever may come of this, know that I love you.
[And that will remain true no matter what might happen.]
no subject
Clive wonders if he hasn't taken that away from Joshua by doing this－ if he hasn't assigned him to a lifetime of looking over his shoulder.
Still, Clive can only tell the truth when Joshua tells him that he's loved. His reply is as simple and earnest as the broad arc of a greatsword. ]
And I, you.
[ Forevermore, he thinks. A bit too on-the-nose; he keeps it to himself. ]
Our fates might not be written, [ in defiance of Ultima, who would have them believe that they're creatures fated to die out, ] but mine is linked, inextricably, to yours.
[ By choice. He smiles, then ruffles Joshua's hair. ]
Now go back to your reading, else I'll stay distracted the rest of the night.
no subject
Either way, he doesn't intend to ever let Clive face Ultima alone.]
You see? I told you if you let me read in here I'd be distracting you all the time.
[He is smiling, teasing affectionately. This wasn't exactly what he'd been thinking, but it ends up the same, doesn't it? Clive, not doing his work, all because of him.
Honestly, Joshua's a bit pleased to be proven right. But then, he's pleased about a lot of things at the moment.]
Go get your work done. I'll try to behave.
[He might be able to actually read now - though he knows he'll still be stealing glances at Clive, marveling that this could have happened. Wondering if it's real, hoping that it remains so. But the book might get some of his attention, at least.]