Written as a pinch hit for the 2023 Candy Hearts Exchange
Rating: Explicit
Tags & Warnings: NSFW, incest
***
Golbez tastes like the dark sword.
Cecil had thought, for a bright moment at the top of Mount Ordeals, that he had defeated that craving. But he has found that while he may have rejected that power, the temptation never dies.
When he tastes it in Golbez’s mouth, he remembers everything.
“Join me,” Golbez coaxes, speaking against his lips. “Join me and it will be yours again. It will flow through both of us, dark and sweet and pure, and bind us together, and we will never be apart again.”
Their bodies are against each other, so similar, so familiar though they’ve been lost to each other since they were children. It isn’t physical desire that draws them together like this. It’s the power in them, the mystical bond of their blood that, he finally understood when they were revealed to each other, has always been there. They’ve never been apart. Not for a moment in their lives.
The darkness in him is Golbez.
He grips hard at Golbez’s shoulders—so broad, he’s so strong, layers of smooth muscle sliding beneath his skin, elegant and powerful—and licks into the sweet darkness of his mouth while Golbez rolls him onto his back. His mouth tastes of blood. Cecil’s blood. The moon-blood the dark sword drew from him, to burn his lifeforce as fuel for its own power. He tastes, Cecil supposes, of his own blood.
Those strong sword-callused hands grip Cecil’s hips and Cecil wraps his thighs around that tight, lean swordsman’s waist and they move together. It doesn’t feel like normal sex. They collide again and again, not only in body but in soul. Cecil cries out at the addictive, heady force of darkness spearing through his being, the same way it did before he took up their father’s sword. In turn, Golbez moans at the thrust of bright power thundering through him.
He moans into Cecil’s mouth when Cecil bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. The taste of his power floods Cecil’s mouth. They grapple, clutch and claw and drag at each other, trying to pull one another into themselves, and Cecil knows he’ll never be free of this hunger. He’ll never stop wanting the taste, the sweet pain of that barbed darkness flowing through him.
They’re creatures of the moon, light and shadow mixed. They are meant to be mingled, struck through with one another, woven together.
The sheer ferocity of it between them drives into Cecil more deeply than any cock, impaling him with each strike.. Impaling his mind with power that leaves bright/dark afterimages across his sight till he’s blind with them. They cling and rock and moan together, over and over, taken and taking each other simultaneously until a climax hits them.
They orgasm too. It’s almost secondary.
After, they fall together, trembling in each other’s arms.
For just a moment, he feels satisfied. Complete. As long as they let this quiet aftermath last. They shift together, and Golbez’s body, serving as Cecil’s pillow, is soft and sated beneath him. They’re sweat-wet and exhausted, bright and dark tangled together in delicate strands that won’t fall apart till they move and disturb it.
For this moment, Cecil doesn’t have to crave.
He burrows his head against Golbez’s bare, sweat-damp collar bone. His pale hair tumbles down over his brother’s chest and shoulder. Beneath it, he hides from the future waiting on the other side of these moments full of warmth and deep breathing and sufficiency.
It can’t just be him, can it? Golbez keeps coming to him. Why would he do that, if he didn’t feel something too?
His temptations and blandishments, his calls to Cecil to come to him… Is that all they are?
“Why do you call to me?” he murmurs. “Is drawing me back down into the dark really all you want?”
Golbez hums into his hair. There’s a note of unease in it, unsettlement he sounds reluctant to acknowledge.
If Cecil craves the dark power of his brother…
He learned a lesson atop Mount Ordeals. You cannot fight yourself. To win, you must accept. The only lesson that has allowed him to endure all this. To crave without it destroying him. To look his nightmare brother in the face without crumbling. So.
“I want it so badly,” he confesses into the nook between his brother’s shoulder and throat. “It’s an ache in me. An agony that has me in its teeth and won’t let me go. And you…you feel it too, don’t you? Don’t you crave the light in me just as much as I ache to take the dark back?”
They devour each other. They’ve just devoured each other, and they’ll do it again, and yet again after that. It’s such a relief. The only relief Cecil has known from the force of his own power.
And Golbez…he has much to seek relief from. Perhaps even more than Cecil.
Golbez. Cecil can feel the hesitation in his body. The tension of reluctance as he struggles. Perhaps Cecil provides an example to him, because slowly, he finds words.
“When I have you in my hands,” Golbez admits, voice deep and slow with reluctance and post-coital torpor. “When I have you in my hands, I…I want to swallow your light. I want to feel it burn in my throat till I’m hollowed out and filled with it. I thought that was…him, but…” His hands tighten on Cecil’s body.
“You shone once,” Cecil whispers, carding his fingers through his brother’s hair, tumbling back from his face to the pillow. “I remember.”
Golbez says nothing to that. Only lets Cecil stroke his hair while he stares up at the ceiling.
Then he whispers, “I remember…” Two words that throb with so much yearning they answer all Cecil’s questions.
Cecil sighs at this thing that’s pulled taut between them. “If I chose…it wouldn’t help you.”
“No,” Golbez confesses.
But no more could it help them if Golbez chose.
So then there’s only one way.
Cecil pushes himself up to lean over his brother, his hair tumbling down like a curtain around both their faces, and kisses him on the forehead. “I’ll free you,” he promises. “I’ll free us both.” Them, and this bond neither of them can seem to break or even lay hands on well enough to control.