Seraphic Deviltry

Chapter Three: Fruit

________________________________________


Lucius

I'm hurting, and thus I'm lashing out at the only person I don't want to hurt. I can feel his shock as I speak, telling him exactly what I feel. How could he understand?

"Protect..." he breathes, and I school my face to passivity. Surely he will understand who I was protecting, who it is that I have been protecting all these years. I've as much as said it before. But the words he speaks next take me completely by surprise. "Teach me." Teach him what?

"What do you want me to teach you?" I ask coolly.

I can hear him swallow. For a few seconds, the room is so quiet that I can hear him breathe, almost hear his heart beat. Then, "Teach me obedience." His voice is soft, but compared to the silence, it screams. "If you cannot touch yourself, use me instead of going to our father."

No! my mind screams, at the same time as a small voice torments me with how much I want it. I don't want him to lose his innocence, yet he offers me something I've longed for a long time. Caught up in my conflicting thoughts, I hear myself reply, "You really don't want him to touch me, do you?" I hear the humour in my voice, and wonder how the fuck it got there.

My brother draws a long, trembling breath. "Yes," he says then. "I'd do anything to prevent it."

Temptation and love battles in my mind, and after a long moment, temptation stands as victor. I slowly turn to face him, my eyes open and as cold as I can make them. Anything to prevent it, he said. "Lock the door," I order him, and I hear him do so. When he once more stands before me, I tell him to strip. His clothes rustle as they fall to the floor, and when the room is silent again, I beckon him to come closer. Again I rely on my ears to tell me that he obeys, and as he stops, I can tell he is barely two feet from me.

I reach out with one hand, and place it on his chest. I feel his start ofprisprise, but then he stands still again. His heart pulses beneath my fingers, faster than the pace I'm used to. I smile; half gently, half patronizing. "Afraid?" I ask him.

A second's pause before he answers with a simple, "Yes."

Whatever I mean to say, it is not what comes out of my mouth. "Good." I hear, and also feel — me having my hand so near his throat — him swallow, but he says nothing, nor does he make any movement. I let my other hand trail upwards across his chest, to softly caress his face. His breathing grows slightly erratic, as though he strives to not breathe at all. As I let my index finger trace the contours of his lips, my eyes widen with surprise as I feel the soft, wet touch of his tongue. I allow him to carress my finger for a moment, before withdrawing my hand. "Eager to please, are you?" I murmur. I almost curse my blindness as I with my right hand feel his skin grow hot and realize he's blushing.

Again my left hand travels across his body, but this time I'm going downwards, taking my time on the way to explore his body more thoroughly than I have ever done before. He's more muscular than I am, and although I already knew that, I am pleasantly surprised with how good that feels beneath my fingers. I indulge myself, tracing his muscles with both hands. After a short while, he shifts his weight, probably from boredom, but for once I ignore what he wants. He's said I can do what I want, and right now I want to look at him closely.

Eventually, I have examined his torso enough, and wander down to his hips, mentally comparing them to mine. Mine are more angular than his, the bones more prominent. Suddenly, while passing my hand close to his navel, I brush against something I'm not quite prepared for. Apparantly, my treatment of him is not altogether unpleasant, since he has developed a nice erection. I ignore it, however, just as I also ignore the bit back groan that escapes his lips. I continue to explore the rest of his midsection, and when I know from his slight hip movement, albeit restricted by his resolution to not move, that he's only waiting for me to proceed, I slide around him, and start anew at his shoulders, slowly working my way down his back. I smile at the half-gasp, half-sob that tears from his throat, but I do not give in to him.

For a moment, I pause, disgusted with myself for how easily I've put myself in my father's position, but then I rid myself of such thoughts. I'm not like my father. I only do this for him, because he asked me to, and because he doesn't want me to go to Father.

Liar, the small voice in my head says. You thoroughly enjoy this, don't you? Yes, I do, but I wouldn't ever have done it if he hadn't asked me to.

"Please..."

My brother's gasped plea both moves and amuses me. "Please what?"

The muscles in his back flex and move as he tenses and then relaxes again. "I... I don't know," he admits in a low, trembling voice. "I don't... know what I want."

If he wants to learn, I must teach him the first lesson. "That is as well, then. It is not what you want that is important. You need only concern yourself with what I want."

His chest heaves as he draws a deep breath. I can almost feel the tremors as the air rushes into his lungs. "Yes..." he hisses then as he breathes out again.

"Good." I take a step backwards. "Undress me." I must not show any hesitation, but behave as though I simply could not imagine him not doing as I said. That is how I remember my father. Always controlled, always in control. It was that stern presence that kept me from rebelling at the beginning. That, and the threat that he would otherwise seek what he wanted with my brother.

Trembling hands untie my sash, and then as gently as possible slide my robes from my shoulders. I hear him move away from me, and issue a sharp, "Adrian." The steps halt, and then turn.

"I apologize. I only thought to lay your clothes on the couch."

I consider it for a moment, and then nod. "Do so." His steps move away and then stop, and I can hear the rustling of cloth before I hear him return. He positions himself close enough that I can feel the heat and static of his body, but not so close so he touches me. Impressive. Then I ponder my next action for a moment before telling him, "Carry me to the bed."

As he sidesteps, his arms come up to touch me, one at the shoulders and one below my ass. When he tips me backwards, I lean back into his arms, trusting him not to drop me. He's carried me too many times for me to distrust him. My feet lose their contact with the floor, and then comes the gentle rocking as he makes his way towards the bed. He lays me down as carefully as he lifted me, and then I sense him straightening. I smile as I anticipate his reaction to my next words.

________________________________________


Adrian

He's simply beautiful as he lies on the bed, and I ache inside. He asked me before if I was afraid. Yes, I'm afraid. I'm deathly afraid that he will discover I'm not only doing this for his sake. I'm afraid he will see how much I desire his touch, and despise me for it.

"Adrian." His soft voice awakens me from my reverie, and I look at him, waiting to hear what he wants next. "Suck my cock."

I start with the bluntness of the demand, but then I shiver with desire. I will once more be allowed to taste him. I kneel down beside the bed, and then lean forward to take him into my mouth. His... cock. I move my thoughts uncomfortably around the coarse word, trying to get used to it as I move my head up and down. I must get used to it, because Lucius is sure to be using it, and I can't be shocked every time.

This time he doesn't push me away, but rather grips my hair and pulls me down. His thrusts against me grows more harried, more desperate, and I try to concentrate on keeping my teeth away and not to gag as he drives himself as deep as he can go. Strangely, this treatment makes me even harder. I blush and thank the gods that he cannot see it.

Then he stiffens, his hands pressing me down as far as I can go, and I have barely time to realize what that means before semen hits the back of my mouth. I swallow instinctively at first, but then I start to savour the taste before swallowing, wanting to keep it for as long as possible in my mouth. And if I move it to the front of my mouth, the taste grows sweeter. When his hands release my head, I let go of his... cock, and then lick it clean.

He lies still for a long time, and I sit back on my heels and lay my head down on the bed beside his hip, just enjoying having him near me. I could lie like this the whole night, if he would let me. Of course, I would even more like to share the bed, but I'll take anything I can get.

"Adequate, Adrian. With some practise, you might even be good at it."

His words wound me to the core of my soul. I know it's only my second time ever, but he doesn't have to throw it in my face. Some part of me realizes that this, too, is part of what I said I wanted to learn. The humiliation of striving to become better, to please.

"Get me my clothes." I do, and when I return, he's sitting on the edge of the bed. As I hesitantly stops before him, he stands up and hold his arms out slightly from his body. Getting the hint, I dress him, even kneeling down to tie the sash around his waist. Knowing what I do now, I ponder the significance of his red robes. Do they mean anything special to him and our father?

As I sit back to look up at him, I catch him smiling strangely down at me. He lifts his foot and places it in my crotch. I bite back the pathetic sounds that strive to escape me, and part my knees to allow him better access. Again, that observing part of me recognizes the shame in this, that I'm being carressed by a foot.

"Do you want to come?"

Oh gods, yes. That I want. But this time, more than ever, I'm aware of the voice asking me if he will allow it. After all, haven't I ceded ownership of my body over to him? But still... "Yes," I acknowledge, trying to make it clear in my voice that I don't expect it.

"As soon as you prove to me you deserve it, you may." Abruptly, he removes his foot from my crotch, and then moves past me, towards the door. "Good night."

I spin around where I sit, reaching out imploringly with one hand. "Angel..." I plead. He turns, looking at me with ice cold eyes, and I flinch back. Not because I fear him, but because... Who am I fooling? Of course I fear him. I fear that he will know all that I am, and loathe me for it. After all, how different am I from our father? "I... Please... You won't... go to him, will you?" I hate myself for sounding so pathetic.

"As long as you obey me, I won't." His eyes narrow. "And I mean it. I decide when you come and not. And I will know." He turns back towards the door and puts his hand on the handle. "Present yourself in my room tomorrow morning at eight."

"Yes, Angel," I reply as he opens the door and slides through as gracefully as a cat. I ponder what he has said. Does he really know of a way to tell whether a man has come or not? Even if I'd wash? I doubt it, but I won't test him. I do this because I want it, because I need it. I don't want him to go to Father, true. I want him to come to me, of his own free will. I want him... I want him to love me as I love him. But that, I'm certain, will never happen, and so this is the best I can hope for.

I sigh, and climb onto the bed, laying down across the space he occupied. Breathing in the faint scent still lingering, I close my eyes and fall asleep.

________________________________________


Lucius

I lean against the door once I've closed it again, and take several deep breaths to steady myself. What have I become? How can I have done this to my own brother? To the brother I love more than life itself? Am I really so desperate to receive even a taste of his love that I am willing to exploit him like this due to his reluctance to let me be with our father? Sick of myself, I return to my rooms to sleep. Or at least that is my thought.

As I enter my quarters, I immediately know I am not alone. Slowly, as in a daze, I turn to close the door. It's with a heavy heart I know who is there, and with despair I turn to face him.

"I see that you at least wear appropriate clothes," Father says. "Though I would have thought you'd present yourself in my chambers." I hear him rise and the sound of a glass being set down on the room table. "This charade has gone on long enough. I expected you to revel in your supposed freedom for a couple of days. Three, maybe four. But this..."

I stumble forward a step or two, before falling to my knees. "I apologize, Father. I haven't been able to leave Adrian for long. Today, I almost managed to escape him, but..."

"Shush, Lucius," he interrupts me, and I hear his steps approach. He lays his hand on my head, and I bow it down. "You know I have to punish you for this, don't you?"

I refuse to let myself consider it. "Yes, Father. My punishment is in your hands."

"Good." I sense him reach out above me, and a click tells me he has locked the door. "This time, I won't let Adrian interrupt us."

I hate myself. "Thank you, Father."

"Go to the bed, and kneel down at the foot of it, facing out."

"Yes, Father," I reply before I rise to follow his orders. I move as in a daze, on instinct alone. I'm lucky I know the lay of the room as well as I do, since I cannot even think well wnough to remember where my furniture stands. I find my bed, and fold to my knees with my back turned towards the foot of it. I hear my father move about, but shut out the sound of it, instead thinking of how I've just broken the promise I gave my brother. Or have I? I haven't gone to him. He came to me instead. I just have to keep it secret from him.

Soft, curved leather touches my lips, and I fail to repress a shudder. Dutifully, I reach out and look at the whip. When he orders me to undress ant ont onto the bed, it takes a second or so before I'm able to make my body move. I bite my lower lip to stop myself from pleading, but once I lie in place I have to release my grip, and take a bite out of my pillows instead.

"How many times during this week have you come?" he asks me, and I have to let go of the pillow to answer.

"Twice, Father."

He tut-tuts at me. "Lucius, Lucius. What did I tell you?"

"I've followed your orders, Father. I haven't touched myself."

"So... Whom did Adrian allow near you, then?"

I hesitate to tell the truth, but I cannot lie. Not now, with the threat of pain so close at hand. "No one."

To my surprise, I hear my father break out in laughter. "It seems he takes after me," he says as soon as he's calmed down.

"...No, Father. I had to beg him to, both times." I know he's not like that. He's not like our father. And so I lie to protect him. Even if it's not a big lie. "I had to tell him I was going back to make him jack me off."

"I see. So I guess tomorrow you'll strip your clothes off and complain of how wicked and mean I am."

I almost panic at the thought. "No!" I exclaim. "I'd never let him see... He wouldn't understand!"

"When has he ever understood?"

"Never." I take a deep breath, steeling me for what will come. "Please punish me, Father."

"Very well, Lucius. One lash for each day you have avoided me, does that sound reasonable to you?" It's not exactly a question, but I still have to answer.

"Yes, Father," I lie. After all, there is nothing I can do. I shudder as I hear him snap the whip in the air, and try to prepare for the first lash. Biting down hard into the bed so as not to scream, I wait.

I needn't wait long. Soon I again hear the whistle of leather through the air, and relax to absorb the blow.

It hurts. Oh gods, it hurts. I had almost forgotten the pain of it, had almost managed to surpress the memory of it to the deepest caverns of my mind. The only reason I do not scream is because there is simply no air left in my lungs. I take a deep beath. "One, Father," I manage to gasp, as I breathe out. Concentrating on the air filtering slowly in and out of my lungs, I faintly hear the hiss of the whip and exhale. "Two, Father," I say as soon as I can.

This pattern is repeated until I with barely contained relief counts out the seventh lash. I breathe shallowly, still into that same pattern. Still, there is one thing more to do. "Thank you, Father, for taking the time to correct me."

"It's all right, Lucius dear. Anything to please you."

Liar. He'll do anything to 'please' me as long as it's what he wants. I say nothing, and don't move even as I hear him climb onto the bed, and settle between my legs.

"Beautiful, Lucius. Simply beautiful," he murmurs. "I wish you could see your back. The red lines make such a great contrast to your pale skin." A short pause. "Make sure you wear one of the less embroidered robes tomorrow. They're less see-through." Faintly I wonder how see-through the rest of my clothes are, but I simply nod. "Now, Lucius," he continues. "All fours, please." An order phrased as a request. I comply, then turn around to lubricate his cock, knowing that is what he wants, eventhough he hasn't said it. His sigh of pleasure is all I need to know I haven't made a mistake, and with my tongue I tease the bud at the bottom of my mouth to produce more saliva, before I open my throat to take in all of him.

When my father tells me it's enough, I release his cock and turn around again, accepting the pain in my back as I have so many times before. What's the reason for wincing when no one cares, anyway? His cock is placed at my ass, teasing me. I say nothing, only relax to aid him, should he choose to enter.

"To punish you for avoiding my command so deftly, you will not be allowed to come today."

"Yes, Father," I accept, the moment before he enters me in one, long thrust.

I gasp as he forces open muscles that have in this week become accustomed to being left alone, and quickly clench them to ease the pain. A sharp intake of breath shows me that my father doesn't disapprove of it, either. As I grow used to the intrusion I relax more and more. It's my job to make it as comfortable for myself as I can. Those who fuck me never have cared, never once paused to allow me to adjust.

My father quickly comes, and then he withdraws. He climbs off the bed, and then pauses. "I expect you to come to me two days from now, Lucius," he says then, before moving off and dressing. Something is removed from the table, and his steps approach the door. A click, and the door is opened, only to fall closed again a few seconds later.

I take a deep breath, and then get off the bed and move towards the bath. Crouching down above the drain installed specifically for this purpose, I start to clean myself. It takes longer than I'd expected, since I cannot easily reach every place, what with my back and everything, but finally I deduct that I'm clean enough. Gratefully, I stumble towards my bed and fall across it, asleep before I've stopped moving.

________________________________________


Adrian

I wake up slowly, still caught up in the less than decent dreams I've had during the night. Then reality settles down with a crash and I bolt upright. Gods, I was to present myself to Lucius at eight. What time is it now? I hurry to get dressed and then rush down the corridors, still adjusting my clothes. I almost throw open his door as well before stopping to consider my situation. Would he really want me to enter his room as I pleased? Or would the most logical thing to expect be that I knock and then wait for him to allow me inside? I nod to myself, pleased with my ability to think despite the fact that I'm still half asleep. Then I hesitantly knock on the door, and wait.

I think I hear something move inside, but nothing seems to happen. I wait some more, chewing my lower lip. Then I raise my hand to knock again, but before I'm able to, the door opens to reveal a newly awakened Lucius. My heart almost stops at his casual beauty.

"Yes?" he asks, looking a bit impatient.

I take a deep breath. For a moment I don't know what to say, but then a phrase I've heard the soldiers say down in the courtyard enters my head. "Adrian reporting for duty, sir," I say, unable to keep the smile off my face.

His facial expression never wavers, but he takes a step backwards, inviting me into his chambers. As I pass him, his words drive the smile off my face, "You're late." His voice is toneless, but somehow, that makes the statement all the more accusatory.

"I apologize, Angel," I reply, feeling a fist clench itself around my heart at his disapproval.

He waves my apology away, closing the door behind us. "It's alright. I didn't expect much more from you."

That simple announcement, delivered in the same toneless voice, drives the air from my lungs, and I can do little but stare at him in painful shock and confusion. "I..." I begin, but realize that I can hardly hear myself. Trying again, I plead, "I'm sorry, Angel. I'll do better, I promise." Please don't turn me away. I can't say that last thing, though. I'm too afraid he will simply laugh at me, or even worse, see why I need him so much.

He doesn't even acknowledge my apology this time, but moves to sit down on the couch. "Brush my hair," he commands, and I hurry to pick up his brush and do as he says. I have to show him he can rely on me. Silently, I swear I'll never again be late.

Too soon, I'm finished. I've continued far too long anyway. The last twenty strokes weren't really necessary. Reluctantly, I lower my hands. "Do you wish me to braid your hair, Angel?" I ask politely.

For a short moment there is silence. Then he shakes his head. "No, it's alright as it is." I stand still, waiting for him to say anything, not knowing what I'm supposed to do now. He abruptly stands. "Escort me to breakfast," he says, before moving towards the door. Seeing a chance to do something for him, I hurry past him, and open the door, closing it as he's passed me. Passed me without even a nod, as though he expected this. Can I not then surprise him? If I do badly, he tells me he expects no more. If I strive to please him, he accepts it simply as his due. I blink back my tears and hurry on after him down the corridor.

Staying subeserviently half a step behind him, I walk him towards the dining hall. I help him sit down, and then go to fetch him breakfast. Luckily this is something that I do now and then, so people won't think anything is amiss. After breakfast, he brings me up to the tower, and bids me sit in a corner to "not be in the way, yet available". And so I sit there for an hour or two, watching him pet the crows.

Suddenly he tells me to find him paper and pen, and I reply, "Certainly, Angel," before running away to do his bidding. It doesn't take me long, and I'm soon back. By now he's alone, his crows having left the building. I hand him the pen, and then place the wooden tray I took with me in his lap, laying the paper on it.

He waves me away into the corner again, and I notice how well planned this corner was. Due to the angle, I can't make out what he's writing, although his letters are large and crude enough to be visible even from the the seven yards' distance I'm at. Soon, he's finished, and he orders me to take the note to our father, without looking at it. He holds out the folded paper, and I take it, hesitating for a moment at his side.

He 'looks' up at me. "Yes, was there something?"

I flush, and start to back off. "N-no, of course not, Angel. I... I just..." I look pleadingly at him, even knowing he can't see it. "To Father, Angel?"

"Yes." His tone of voice cannot be argued with. "Now go." I open my mouth to explain my hesitancy, but one look into his eyes tells me that would not be wise. So I simply murmur a, "Yes, Angel," before vanishing out the door.

I start down the stairway, the note burning in my hand. I wish to open it, to see what it says, but I'm not sure I dare do it. If I know what it says, will I be able to feign ignorance? What if it says that he's just waiting for a chance to go see Father? On the other hand, it could say that he's decided never to see him again. Or it could... I shake my head violently to clear it from such thoughts. I won't look at the note. I won't look at the note. I won't look... I open the note.

I REGRET THATI WONT' BE ABL TO COME TO YOU TOMORROW, it says in large, uneven, capital letters. He's a good writer, for someone who only knows his letters through movement and not by sight. I was the one who insisted that he would be able to learn how to write. PERHAPS YOU COULDCO ME TO ME, INSTED? MY PUNISMENTIS IN YOUR HANDS.

I lean against the wall, despair flooding the edges of my mind. What am I supposed to do? How can I ever pretend ignorance of its contents? How can I ever allow Father to go to him? That possibility never even crossed my mind, and it occurs to me that Lucius never promised me anything concerning that. He only ever promised that he wouldn't go see him.

I re-fold the paper, and continue towards our father's office, my feet as heavy as lead. What am I supposed to do? What can I do? I raise my hand to knock at the door, and the second before my knuckles strike the wood, I come up with an idea, although far too desperate for my taste. As my father bids me enter, I swallow before pressing down on the handle.

As I step inside, Father looks up. "Oh, it's you," he says. Whom did he expect? "Well?" he asks when I say nothing. Wordlessly I walk up to him and hand him the note. He opens it and reads it. I study his face carefully as he does, seeing it change from controlled anger to surprise to mirth. He looks up at me. "Do you know what this says?" he asks, holding up that fatal letter.

"Yes," I reply. "I ask that you do not go to him."

His faint smile becomes more prominent. "Oh? And what do you think I should do instead? I was quite looking forward to this."

I refuse to consider when and where he might have struck this appointment with Lucius. I gather all my courage instead and speak. "I was wondering if you were willing to make an exchange." I will my trembling to go away. How could you ever understand the basic need to protect someone, and because of that, to obey someone's every wish, even if it causes you pain? I look into my father's eyes. He gazes back at me impassively, one eyebrow raised in query. "I will come to you instead, if you agree to leave him be."

He smirks at me for a long time. Then, "I guess you do not wish him to know of this... arrangement." I nod agreement. "Very well. Tell him I'll be with him after dinner. I expect you to come to my chamber then." I swallow, but nod. And then I'm dismissed.

I return slowly to the tower, taking my time up the stairs. What will I tell him? How shall I formulate myself so that he won't know that I've read his note?

________________________________________


Lucius

I sit still, chin in hand, pondering the message I've managed to write down. I truly hope Adrian won't read it. I wouldn't be able to stand his pain if he knew what I'm about to do.

Finally I hear the door open, but do not bother to turn that way. The steps aren't heavy enough to be Father, so the alternatives are either Adrian or a servant.

"Angel?" My brother's voice is hesitant. The door closes. I hear him approach me, and when he's barely a yard away, I turn to look at him. A sharp intake of breath is the reply I get to that, before he speaks. "He said... He..."

"Get to the point," I say sharply, not showing my worry over what Father might have said.

"After dinner," comes the swift answer. When he continues, I can hear the worry in his voice. "Angel... What was in that note? Did you..."

"Silence," I snap, terrified that he will find out.

"Yes, Angel," he sighs. "Is there anything I can do for you?" I'm surprised he asks, but show nothing. Instead I merely open my robes enough to show my cock, hoping he'll understand the hint.

He does, and comes forward to kneel between my knees. He takes my soft cock in his mouth and work it towards an erection. I place my hand loosely on his head, my fingers wrapped casually in his hair. Just like my father some times. Everything goes fine, until I wince as his teeth scrape painfully against me. I tighten my grip and draw him towards my face.

"No teeth," I hiss. He tries to apologize, but I interrupt. "Cover your lower teeth with your tongue and your upper with your lip. If I ever feel you do that again, I will have to do something about it. Now shut up and let me fuck your mouth."

He sags in my grip, and for a moment I curse myself. Why did I have to say that? Oh well. Too late now. I rise, pushing the chair backwards slightly, and press Adrian down to my crotch again. He doesn't resist, not even when I hold his head still, driving myself deep down into his throat again and again. To my shame, the sensations as he chokes only hightens my pleasure, and I come quickly, releasing my seed so far back that I know he can't even taste it. At least I can give him that relief.

I let go of him, pushing him away from me, and sit down, turning my head towards the window to feel the breeze and sun upon my face.

"I'm sorry," I hear Adrian mumble before I hear him make his way towards his corner, his feet shuffling against the floor. Odd, that. I never heard him rise. Perhaps I just missed it. I doubt he would have crawled. All I want is to run to him, embrace him and apologize for what I've done to him. But I can't. And so I sit still, pretending to look out the window.

"Angel?" my brother's voice comes hesitantly after a while. "I think it's time for supper soon."

"Thank you," I acknowledge, but do not move at once. Only after another ten minutes or so do I stand up. I can hear how Adrian hurries to rise and place himself at my shoulder, and smile faintly. Closing my robes carefully, I do not even turn my head towards him as I tell him to accompany me to the dining hall. If I were to acknowledge his presence, I would most probably break down and beg for forgiveness. And I can't do that. I'd hate for him to know how much I care for him. And if he doesn't already know why I've submitted to Father all these years, then I would give anything to make it continue that way.

I count the steps silently, not quite trusting my instinct, and then lead the way towards the dining room. I take a seat and wave my brother away with a friendly "I can manage quite well on my own, Adrian."

The rest of the evening passes in relative normalcy. As I start to grow weary, I tell Adrian to go to bed, and report as this morning at eight. With a faint smile, I add, "And try to be on time this time, okay?"

Half a second's pause before he replies, subdued, "Yes, Angel."

I bristle. Why does he always have to remind me about what I might have been if it hadn't been for our father? "Stop calling me angel, Adrian," I command him, and the half-sob I'm rewarded with makes me immediately regret my harsh tone.

"Yes, Lucius. With your permission...?" I nod, and then hear him leave through the open door, letting it fall shut behind him. I stumble to my bed and throw myself across it, feeling tears well up in my eyes. I cry myself to sleep, shedding tears for my lost innocence, for Adrian's lost innocence, and for how I treat him now, knowing he only wants to protect me.

I wake early next morning, and am even able to take a bath before I hear the rapping on my chamber door. I quickly pull on the underrobe that belongs to the clothes I've chosen. Checking to see it hangs neatly, I call, "Enter." The door opens and closes, and I hear Adrian's voice say "Reporting, sir," in his normal, rather cheerful tone, as if yesterday had never happened. "Ah," I say. "Good to see you. Help me dress." He does, and then it's off to breakfast.

I take him to the library next, ordering him to read a story for me. This takes him most of the time till supper, and I allow him to drink some water on the way to the dining room. He's not called me 'angel' even once, referring to me as either Lucius or brother. The latter more often. And then comes the time I've both dreaded and longed for.

"I won't need you for a few hours, Adrian," I tell him. "Could you just be a good boy and not ask any questions and just leave me alone for the rest of the evening. If I need you, I'll come to your room."

A short hesitancy. "Of course, Lucius," he then agrees, albeit reluctantly. "I'll see you tomorrow then, if not earlier." I nod at him, and then turn away, effectively dismissing him. I barely even wait until he's out the door before I strip and go into the bath to prepare myself to receive my Father. I dress in the robes I know he favours most, and then lie down on my bed to wait.

I wait, and wait. The longer I wait, the more confused I become. Why won't he come? He should have been here already. When I've waited for what must be at least an hour, I reluctantly rise and, placing my hand upon the door handle, decide to break my promise to Adrian.

First I seek him in his study, deciding that if he hasn't arrived, he might have been caught up with work. But as he hasn't replied as I knock for the third time, I wander towards his bed chamber.

It's with trepidation I raise my hand to knock. I can hear sounds from within, so he's obviously there, but I'm not sure I want to know the source of those noises. Finally I gather my courage and knock. The sounds from within cease.

"Who is it?" my father demands to know.

"Lucius," I reply. "I was..."

"Enter." For some reason. He sounded... humoured. I open the door and step inside. "What can I do for you, Lucius?"

I turn my face away. "I was merely wondering. You never... came to me."

"No. I changed my mind." A short, somehow evaluating silence. Then, "But now that you're here, I could use your help." A strangled noise from someone else. "I have a nice fellow here who could use a little oral assistance."

Sending a mental apology to Adrian, I smile at my father. "Of course. Do you wish me to undress?"

The silence draws longer, as if he can't quite make up his mind. Finally he says, "It doesn't matter. You may choose."

I blink in surprise. That doesn't occur often. I smile, suddenly conscious of the punishment I received the day before yesterday, and move forward, still dressed.

"He's sitting on the edge of the bed, near the foot," Father says, with an odd infliction to his voice. Not quite commanding, but still sharp, as if the person, whoever it is, wasn't sitting there before, but was expected to move. This deduction proves to be correct, since I hear the slithering of a body against the bed. Moving as suggestively as I can, I approach the stranger and kneel down when I touch the inside of a leg. Letting my hands slide inwards along his thighs — unusually tense ones, I must say — I soon encounter an erect cock, and bend my head forward to envelop it.

He's as silent as he can be all the time, barely even gasping. I've never been quite comfortable with the quiet types, since it's hard to tell what feels good and not. On the other hand, the psychological reward when you manage to ellicit sounds from them is almost always worth the wait. This one's different. Not even when he comes does he speak or groan, but only makes those bit back noises, as though he was afraid to be other than quiet. He doesn't taste that bad, though. Rather sweet, actually, and I don't mind at all licking up every last drop.

When I've finished, I sit back, whereupon Father tells me I can leave. Not showing my confusion, I smile and rise gracefully, bowing slightly towards both the gentleman I've beenvicivicing and my father before turning to leave. No one says a word, and I leave in curiosity, for some reason wanting to know who the stranger was. It seemed so secretive, somehow. Too secretive. I return to my bed, still pondering the mystery. I long for my brother's touch, but decide not to go. Not when I have broken my promise to not go to Father. Eventually, I fall asleep.

__________________________________________


Adrian

As someone suddenly knocks on the door, I freeze in panic where I am on the bed, mouth still uncomfortably on my father's... My father's cock. He looks down at me and gestures me to sit up, which I gratefully do.

"Who is it?" Father calls out, and I'm glad for the short respite.

"Lucius," I to my horror hear the voice on the other side of the door answer. What is he doing here? "I was..." he begins, but falls silent as Father speaks up.

"Enter," he simply says, and the blood drains from my face. I look up at him in disbelief, but he only smiles at me and holds a finger to his lips. I couldn't agree more. How could I ever face my brother again if he knew what I was doing? He'd know I'd read that note, and he'd lose faith in me forever. "What can I do for you, Lucius?" Father asks, the smile still on his lips.

"I was merely wondering... You never came to me," Lucius replies, face turned away, as though he wishes to hide his face, as though he is ashamed of his reason to come here. I hope it is because he knows he violates the promise he made me.

"No. I changed my mind," Father says in turn, and for a short moment I hope he'll send him away as soon as possible. Then Father looks at me and smiles slyly. "But now that you're here, I could use your ," ," he continues. I quench the urge to scream at him in panic, and hope Lucius won't recognize my voice in the sound that escapes me. Our father continues, "I have a nice fellow here who could use a little oral assistance."

I can't help it. At the same time as I wish to kill him for doing this to me, the thought of my brother's soft lips around me sends my blood rushing to my groin. I hate my father, but right now I hate myself even more.

Lucius turns his face back tow us us and smiles. "Of course. Do you wish me to undress?" The two sides of me war over what I want Father to answer. To see him naked again or to save him from the humiliation...

Father seems to be unable to make up his mind as well, for after a long time he replies, "It doesn't matter. You may choose."

I see Lucius blink, his expression surprised. I take it that it is not often he can choose for himself. Then he smiles and approaches us without removing his clothes. "He's sitting on the edge of the bed, near the foot," Father says, looking at me pointedly. I assume I'd better be sitting there, and quickly scurry across the bed.

It would be wrong to say that Lucius walks up to me. It's more like he... slithers. I've never seen anyone with such a... predatory walk. The way he walks makes me believe he's going to kill me, and that it will be heaven to die. The sexual energy practially pours off him in waves, and Id itd it hard to breathe. Finally he comes up to me, kneeling down between my legs. His fingers travel oh-so-lightly along my thighs, to finally rest at the outline of the hair in my crotch. And then he bends his head down to take me in.

If I had ever thought that any of the girls I've been with were good at giving head, my brother effectively proves me wrong. I have to bite my hand to stop myself from moaning out my pleasure, and only the — by now sub-conscious — knowledge that we'll be mortified both of us if he discovers that it's me keeps me from screaming his name when I come. When I return to reality, our father has already told him to leave, and I have only time to see the last fluttering wave of his robe before the door closes silently behind him. I look down at my hand and find that in my desperate attempts to make no sound, I've bitten through the skin, and now have to deal with two crescent shaped wounds. Without a word, Father hands me a napkin, and I tie it around my hand.

When I'm done, I look up at him. "Why did you do that?" I ask him, not knowing whether to be devastated or furious.

He smiles superciliously. "Because I could. And was he not good at it?"

I close my eyes briefly as his words make me recall the sensation. "Yes," I have to admit. "But he's my brother!"

"And I'm your father," he replies simply. As I find no answer to that, I simply hang my head, defeated by logic that can only be defeated if I reveal the secrets I hold in my heart. "Come now, I'm not finished with you."

________________________________________


Lucius

The next morning, I'm barely dressed before a soft knock on the door tells me that my brother has arrived. "Enter," I call softly, and the door opens and shuts.

"Adrian reporting, sir," my brother says, oddly subdued. Is he hurt because I sent him away last night? Does he think that I went to my father? Not that I didn't, but it wasn't planned. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Hold me," I reply before I can stop myself. And he does exactly that. He approaches me and then lifts me up into his arms before crossing the room to what I later discover is the couch. And then he sits there with me in his lap, holding me close.

"Angel," he begins, his face buried in my hair. "Let me take you away from here. Please, let's go somewhere where there are no others, only us." To flee this place... Follow the birds. Just run away, without having to leave my brother at the mercy of our father. Such a dream, offered just like that. "I'll take care of you. I'll..." He trails off. For a moment I sit still, waiting for him to continue, but then I notice that his shoulders are shaking.

"Adrian?" I ask, suddenly afraid. What's the matter with him? With one hand I reach up to his face, and find it wet with tears.

"I'm alright," my brother obviously lies. "I don't care anymore. Let me take you from here. We'll travel far away. I know that you have to get what you want from me instead of Father, but perhaps you one day can find someone you love. And..."

I silence him with a finger across his lips. "Sssh. What brought this on?"

A long silence. "I... lay awake all night, thinking. I can't do this anymore." My heart shatters. "I can't stand being sent away, knowing you spend time with him. And I..."

Again I silence him. "What's this with me spending time with Father? You know what I promised."

"Yes, but what stops him from coming here?"

I force myself to keep the same tone of voice, despite the fact that my heart is beating faster than that of a bird. "I swear to you that Father was not here last night."

A long, trembling breath. "I know." A short silence, in which I try to come up with something to say, to break the sombre mood. "Oh, I know he wasn't here."

"Then what's the matter?" I finally manage to ask.

"I wanted you to never know but... I can't keep it from you." What was this about? His arms fall away from me. "I know that you went to Father's room yesterday. I... I was there."

I guess he let go because he expected me to leap from him, but instead, I find I can't move. I merely sit there, frozen. So it was Adrian I went down on yesterday. So that was the reason he was so quiet. He didn't want me to recognize him. But why would... As realization sets in, I finally gain the power to break away from him and stand up. "You..." I begin, all blood fled from my face. "You're the reason he never came."

A bitter laugh. "Oh, he came, alright. Twice." I sink to my knees, embracing myself to stop me from shaking.

"Oh gods," I whisper to myself, hardly noticing him kneel down beside me. "I'm... sorry." Sorry. Such a pitiful word. It doesn't even begin to describe how I feel. I've failed. I swore I'd keep Father away from Adrian, and instead, because of me, he went of his own will.

"It's not your fault," he whispers in my ear. "I told you, I'd do anything to keep his hands off you. If you want to blame anyone, blame him. He's the one at fault here."

"But I..." I turn my face towards him. "Why?"

"Because... Because I love you. More than anyone else. More than life itself." I listen to him in silent disbelief. "I swore to myself that I would keep you safe from all who would abuse you. Even from myself. I loved you too much to give in to my desire, too much to tell you how I felt, because I didn't want to ruin the innocence I thought you had."

I let out a shaky breath. "Oh, Adrian. If you only had told me. When I woke up to see how evil the world was, five years ago, I swore that I'd never let you see, that I would keep its evil locked inside me. After all, you could still see its beauty, while I was blind to it. So when Father gave me the option to leave, that first night, and let you take my place, I never even considered it."

He presses his head into my hair, and holds me tight, tight against him. "Oh gods, Angel. It was me you were protecting all along, wasn't it?"

"I thought you understood that a week ago," I reply.

"I... I only thought you never wanted me to know. Not that... Not that you went to him because of me. I'm sorry, Angel. I wish I had known, so I could have put a stop to it earlier." I shake my head, but he goes on. "Will you... Will you let me protect you now? Will you let me hold you until you find someone you can love?"

I blink, amazed that he hasn't understood it. "But I already have found someone I can love."

"Oh." He starts to pull away, but I hold on to him.

"I love you, silly. I always have. I was just too afraid of what you would think of me if you found out. Being fucked by my father and mooning about my brother."

He is quiet for a long time. When he speaks again, his voice is low. "I'm amazed you can speak of it so lightly. Knowing something of what you go through, I..."

I give him a lopsided smile. "I'm used to it. I had problems thinking about it in the beginning as well, but then I... well, I got used to it. I still had my fits of self-disgust, but mostly it was alright." I don't say I still get those. He's got enough to worry about. Speaking of which... "Did he hurt you?"

"Not exactly. Except that I'm a bit sore, he was rather considerate."

He would have been. "He was that in the beginning for me as well," I reveal. I shift my shoulders in discomfort. Changing the subject again, I ask, "When do we leave?"

He grips my upper arms tightly. "You accept?" he exclaims. I nod, whereupon he wraps his arms around me and buries his head in my neck. "I'm glad you do. We leave as soon as you wish. I don't care if he disinherits us. We'll be able to make our fortune without his."

Yes, and if we're really desperate, I can always sell my services, I think, but I say nothing. "Do we even have to tell him?" I ask instead, which coaxes a laugh out of him.

"No, you're right." He relaxes his grip slightly, and let go with one arm. Taking my chin in a light grip, he tilts my head backwards and press his lips against mine. I lean into the kiss, revelling in my first kiss with someone I love. When we have to part for air, he remains close to me, and whispers, "I love you, Angel. You'll always be my angel."