The B in ABO stands for BROTHERS

[featheredflames]

After a long time of searching and tracking his brother down, Joshua Rosfield is finally bracing himself to come face to face with his brother. It has been years since the Night of Flames and the tragedy that befell their home thanks to their mother's treacherous betrayal. He himself had almost succumbed to his injuries and Clive had been tossed into the Sanbrequoi army without a second thought, branded and treated worse than a mutt with mange. When Cyril had told him the fate of his brother and the truth of what had happened that night, Joshua had wept till he could no longer squeeze another tear out of him. Fate had been unkind to them both, certainly, but Clive had endured a particular sort of suffering Joshua would not wish upon anyone.

And now...now that he was grown and could handle his own, he would save him. Somehow. The details were only half worked out, but if Joshua was good at anything it was coming up with a solution on the fly. Jote had been sent ahead and Joshua had reassured her he would be fine. That he would have to do this alone. Needed to.

There might be a beast that slumbered inside of his brother, but was that not true for every human? Beyond eikons and magicks there were primal urges and needs that had to be met. Society was not only tiered by those who were branded and not, but by their physical disposition. Joshua had presented as an Omega late in life, well into his teenage years, due to the trauma he had endured. It had been a struggle to come to terms with his body, to force the suppressant medicine down his throat along with everything else. His body always seemed to want to work against him, but it had always been that way, hadn't it? If it wasn't illness it was discomforting desires, the urge to submit himself to those of an opposite disposition...

No. He would be fine. He would corner Clive when he was alone, reveal himself and the two of them would leave together. There would be no mishaps, no hiccups or mistakes - he couldn't afford for there to be.

It is just outside Northreach that Joshua finds his brother alone, lost in thought, staring at the flames of a fire. The sight of the brand on his cheek makes his chest ache, but he would make this right. Somehow, he would save Clive...he just needed to convince him that he was who he said he was. Surely that would not be difficult to accomplish.

...But Clive was a soldier, and a good one at that. He would be a fool to sneak up on him...so Joshua doesn't. Making sure the coast is clear he moves to approach him, tattered hood down to show his face. He has remained hidden for far too long. It was now or never - he had to make his move.

"...Clive?"

Comments

[flamebrand]

Joshua moans for him, and the pretty sound of it is like flint and tinder. Clive hums, huffs, and grinds back up along the length of his brother's body, rubbing against him with the insistence of a wolf trying to scent its mate.

His voice rasps, low and throaty, like smoke curling from a fire. "You came back to me." With equal measures apology and possessiveness. To me. "Even though I couldn't save you, even after my failings."

He loses himself in that thought; that Joshua, too, yearned for him. That these years apart had been just as torturous for his brother as it had been for him. It isn't a relief to think on it, but turns Clive's possessiveness into corrosive protectiveness, and he dips to rake his tongue along the skin that he broke with his teeth earlier, hot and wet and insistent.

"Never again. My brother, my omega―" Something sparks behind his eyes when he says that word, omega. Right, that's what Joshua was, is. "―I'll care for you. Keep you safe. Keep you so close to me."

[featheredflames]

His Omega. Founder, how those words are like an arrow right to his chest, igniting the slumbering need he had been trying to keep snuffed out. His attempts are in vain however, as he gives himself even further over to Clive, fingers digging into armor that covers his brother's shoulders. If only he could rid him of it...but no. He shouldn't. They shouldn't.

"Yours..." he breathes out, word airy and trembling. Fate had made it so they were opposites in this regard and was this the reason why, was it not? Clive was made for Joshua and vice versa. If there was one gift their parents had given them, it was each other. Another moan is drawn out of him, the wet of Clive's tongue stinging the wound he'd marked him with. Still, it's pleasant in a twisted way. Mayhaps that was simply something Joshua would have to deal with and accept. "Clive...do you really want this? Here? I will not rebuke you but I do not wish...I do not want you to regret it..."

[flamebrand]

"I would never regret you," is immediate. Thoughtless, even. Half-mad with lust, but convinced that nothing about Joshua will be something that he regrets; it'll only the spontaneity and thoughtlessness of his own actions that will haunt him, when he comes to.

His too-hot hands still wander over Joshua's face, then downwards. Over his now-bruised neck, down to his collar, then over his chest. He wants to commit every inch of Joshua to memory, but it strikes him that they're on hard ground and cold gravel, with not even a bedroll to cushion them― even through his rut, his protectiveness flares above his need to pry Joshua open and claim him.

This is his brother. His beloved brother, who he'd thought he'd lost forever. Who he'd seen be mauled and mutilated, torn apart as he was helpless to do anything but watch. And so, he shudders through his basest instincts, and slowly starts to pry himself away from that enticing, perfect smell.

"They'll look for me," he rasps. They, referring to the Sanbrequois. "But wherever you go, I'll follow. Please."

Where are they? Clive distantly remembers Aevis saying something about Northreach being close, and how they'll never have the luxury of visiting The Veil.

[featheredflames]

Clive may not regret his brother, but Joshua knows all too well that Clive will regret any notion he may have about putting himself upon him. He shudders out a breath, eyes wide as he stares up at Clive, wanting nothing more than to deliver him a sense of peace he clearly has been denied for far too long.

"Let them look. They shall not find us, I swear it."

And if they did, they would know what it was like to burn.

"Northreach...if I recall it is not far from here...a few bells of a trek if we keep to the path. We could shelter there."

His face was not known to many and, as loath as he was to exploit his brother's brand, he could pass him off as his own personal servant. Ironic, really, when in a way he already was as his Shield.

If that was a mantle Clive still wished to wear. He shifts beneath Clive's weight, letting his hands drop at his sides. The only question that remained was whether or not Clive would manage to make it to Northreach without incident due to his rut. If they could make it to Northreach there was always The Veil. He had an Undying contact that knew the Dame...it would be a safe place. Safer than any other options they have available to them.

"Brother...do you think you can make it? Or is your need so dire?"

[flamebrand]

The need is, in fact, dire. It's a constant burn under Clive's skin, compounded upon by a primal instinct that says that Joshua's scent is his, for him, made for him. That, alongside the alpha compulsion to mate his omega before another alpha does, makes it near-impossible for Clive to imagine going without Joshua for however long they'll need to reach Northreach, but－

－he balls his hands into fists, tight enough that his blunted nails dig into his palm.

"If I take you now," slides between grit teeth, "I won't stop."

A warning, made without any reservation. Not even the obvious sin of bedding his brother is enough for Clive to consider a future in which he doesn't claim Joshua; that roadblock has been torn though like parchment, shredded in the wake of this unexpected reunion and his overwhelming need. He thinks he might die if he goes on being denied of who he knows now is his mate, fated beyond doubt.

"The Imperials will find you here, full with my knot." Lust-thick, near-delirious. Clive can feel his own musk grow stronger, intent coloring his desire. "And I dare not let them see any inch of you."

[featheredflames]

It is a promise Joshua knows Clive will make good on. Hearing his brother voice such salacious prospects has him shuddering beneath him, swallowing hot as he does his best to tell his own body to calm, to know reason.

"Then...let us away, before you've made it so our bodies cannot be apart." Founder, to imagine his own brother knotting him, heavy under his muscled weight, pressed face first down into a pillow...or against the forest floor...

No. He needed to focus.

"I am yours, Clive. I always have been...you just have to show restraint until we reach Northreach. Can you do so?"

[flamebrand]

They are brothers, and yet that feels like the least of Clive's concerns anymore. If anything, the thought of any other claiming his omega for themselves makes Clive's hackles rise, jealousy and possessiveness like twin compulsions kneaded into one.

Joshua was born for him. Clive failed once to protect him, but never again. His precious brother will never leave his sight. So, despite the need raging inside of him, he wills himself not to tear into the thin fabric of Joshua's tunic, and allow the both of them to rise back up onto their feet.

"I... can try. For you."

Though he holds Joshua close by the waist, their bodies still pressed together even when vertical.

"Founder will it that I keep my sanity around you."

(Ironic!!)

[featheredflames]

"Endure for me, Clive."

Is it cruel of him to use his brother's clear attachment to him in his favour? Certainly, but they have no time to waste and everything to lose the longer they linger here together. Pressed to his brother's front Joshua cannot help but sigh, inhaling his scent. Even if his own heat isn't here yet, suppressed by the disgusting tinctures Jote forced him to swallow, it did not mean he was unaffected. It was hard not to be when he'd be bitten and Clive had forced himself upon him.

But, he reasons and rationalizes, it wasn't Clive's fault. If anything it was his own...and now he would do what he could to set things right.

Gingerly he pushes away from his brother, opting to take his hand in one of his own and extinguish the flames of the fire with his other. Clive has whatever he needs to bring on his person already...and so they are off to follow the path to Northreach.

The trek is a tiresomeone, not because it is particularly long and hard, but because Clive is barely able to focus. Joshua does his best to redirect his attention, promising himself in full to his brother once they have a suitable space to do so...but once or twice he cannot help but fear that Clive will find himself unable to wait and take him against a tree or the forest floor. Eventually the gates of the town come into view and Joshua peels his hand from Clive's grasp, ordering him to stay silent as he pulls up his hood to speak with the guards.

The Veil, he says. He need use of it for his bearer, so he can be functional once more. They cast glances of disgust Clive's way but move aside, not paying either of them much attention at all and Joshua is ever grateful for it.

"If their directions are correct it should be down this street and to the left. We are almost there, Clive."

[flamebrand]

Funny, how Fate likes to play games: it has rewarded Clive with this utterly impossible reunion, but has done so at the worst possible time, with his sanity scattered to the winds. For a good portion of their trek to Northreach, he thinks he must be sleepwalking－ living some sort of fantasy that he's created mid-rut, liable to wake up at any time by the smoldering remains of his campfire, Wyvern yet again－ but that spiked boot never drops, and the gentle, safe scent that he associates so strongly as his remains a consistent, maddening reminder of his need until they pass through the gates of Northreach.

He thinks he must have ground his teeth flat by the time the Veil comes into view. (Distantly, there's a realization that, despite all of the times he's marched adjacent to Northreach in all of his years traversing Sanbreque, he has never been inside it proper.) Joshua bids him to remain silent, but he doesn't think he has any words in him to speak; when the lady of the House, Isabelle, comes out to appraise the two strange men who have darkened her doorstep, she takes one look at Clive and seems to understand the sorry state he's in.

Come inside, before you scare half my girls away with your scent, she teases airily. A real concern, apparently. Clive says nothing as they're shown to their rooms in the back of the manor, corralled near the kitchens and the courtesans' living quarters, away from immediate earshot of the clientele.

Clive floats through the entire affair. He only waits until the door closes behind them to pull Joshua closer by his arm, nesting their bodies front to front again in desperation.

"Joshua," sounds almost like a plea. His hand scrabbles along his brother's form, trying to find a way to wriggle his palm under that heavy cloak.

[featheredflames]

Led into the brothel and into a small room in the back that affords them as much privacy as they can afford right now, Joshua is pliant once the door is closed and his brother sets himself upon him. Clive is desperate and truly, he has to commend his resistance. He has made it this far and there is no reason to deny him any longer - not that he ever would.

He does not wish to make his brother beg.

Instead Joshua will do him a kindness and move to help lift the cloak off him, encouraging Clive to help. Rid of the heavy outer garment he takes his brother's sweet, branded face in hand to kiss him - lips, bridge of nose, cheek - in a bid to soothe and reassure.

In an ideal would he would have a chance to clean himself before offering himself up to his brother, but this is not the place for fantasy. Reality is the only truth here, and the fact of the matter is his brother is going to mate him. Part of Joshua wants to laugh, remembering how innocently he had insisted Clive would be the one he would marry, that they would rule Rosaria together. There would be no handtying like his younger self had imagined there would be, but at least he would be Clive's.

He just didn't think it would ever manifest like this.

"Shh, it is all right. I am yours and here for you, Clive. I will no longer stray from your side and we shall endure this together. I promise. You have me."

[flamebrand]

Sweet, gentle touches. Clive has forgotten what those look like, what they feel like. He has made friends with risen knuckles, the flat of a boot, the blunt end of weapons; the soft slide of fingertips and lips almost makes him cry again, the sensation of them so foreign after years of hard surfaces and cold contempt.

And now, he is convinced that this must be Joshua. Joshua, with his strong smile even when the frailty of his body betrayed him－ Joshua, whose featherlight grip around his finger was nevertheless the sweetest, most powerful gesture Clive had ever felt from anyone. His brother has always been the one to recontextualize his world, bright eyes and warm smile far more brilliant than the spread of a phoenix's wings.

Desperate as he is, Clive stutters with emotion. He moves to strip himself of his own layers, impatient and trembling, but the next kiss he leans in for and initiates is far less biting, more affection-laced than lust-laced, even if there's an (un)healthy abundance of the latter.

"You were the only thing that kept me going," he finally murmurs after their lips part, as he kicks bits of armor and leather aside to walk Joshua backwards towards the bed. "My brother, my fated mate."

He doesn't do anything so crass as to shove him on his back again; this time, Clive lifts Joshua into his arms, then settles him gently onto the mattress. Like the prince that he is.

"I want to see all of you."

[featheredflames]

Clive is still desperate, still needy, but the ferocity seems to have faced just moments ago makes way for sweet, brotherly affection instead. The kisses are fueled less by frantic need and more now by appreciation and desire. Oh but how it makes him ever so weak. Clive lifts him atop the mattress and he finds himself flushed at the request, at each of his brother's words.

"I wish I could have come to you sooner...I am sorry, Clive."

It is hard to forgive himself for staying away as long as he had, but fate and life had not been kind in that regard - not by any measure. All he can do now is be grateful for the opportunity he has now to make things right.

"You may do so."

He is not much to look at, admittedly, far skinnier than someone of his height should be...but if Clive wants to see him, to take him...he has the right to. His parents may have given life to him, but it was his brother that had been the one to name him, to truly love and cherish him.

"Shall I undress for you? Or would you rather remove my clothes?"

[flamebrand]

You may. To be told that he can, in his brother's voice, sets his nerves alight in ways that Clive never thought was possible. It makes him want to surge forward and tear that tunic off of Joshua like the savage creature that he's become, but he keeps those ugly impulses at bay for long enough to answer:

"If you'd let me."

Deferential in a way that he wasn't, not even under Sanbreque's boot. His compliance towards the Empire was bought with blood and violence, but compliance wasn't loyalty. Wyvern was their pet drake, but Clive has always been and will ever be Joshua Rosfield's.

With that, Clive rakes his palms under his brother's layers and works on shimmying him out of them. The tunic first, its collar unlaced with clumsy, overeager fingers; belts and buckles afterwards, with increasingly impatient insistence. He makes a sound like a starved hound when he finally gets an eyeful of bare, pale skin－ his nose presses against Joshua's clavicle, breathing in that warm, sweet scent as he works one hand downwards, under the waistband of Joshua's trousers to palm between his legs.

"Perfect," he rumbles. It's hard to form words that are more than two syllables, but he tries. "My perfect omega."

Joshua isn't in heat, but he's warm where Clive tries to stroke him, the outline of his pretty cock intoxicating against Clive's palm. He can feel his mouth water, and he rumbles again, low and throaty where his mouth presses against Joshua's neck.

[featheredflames]

Clive makes the decision to remove his clothing and Joshua lets him do so without any hesitation. It is a relief honestly to see his brother operate without a sense or need to lower himself for Joshua's sake. Sure, he may be his Shield, but to Joshua they have always been equals, or, at the very least, Clive has been his better. Having the Phoenix as an eikon and in turn being the one who was to assume their father's throne meant nothing as far as Joshua was concerned.

He has no experience in such matters and the way Clive kisses and mouths at his skin while a rough, calloused hand finds his cock has him groaning out his brother's name louder than he means to. He is sensitive, body ever so reactive to his touch. Clive has barely done anything to him and yet his heart is racing, skin alight and warmed.

Founder help them both.

"Yes, I am yours...and how truly blessed I am...that the Founder saw to it to make you an Alpha."

Surely it was by design. It had to be.

[flamebrand]

The warmer Joshua gets, the stronger his scent seems to become. Enticing Clive to press closer, to cover him with his body, to claim him as Clive's body wills him to. His hands draw away, and he's straddling Joshua on the bed before he can truly register what he's doing, knees splayed with his own erection straining at the front of his dust-streaked trousers, peeling his bloodstained linen undershirt off in one fluid motion; the tanned skin and muscle under that layer is a map of scars and bruises, both old and fresh, and Clive lowers himself down before Joshua can be put off by the sight.

It's a relief, to press skin to skin. The fire within him attunes to the fire that Joshua radiates, and Clive breathes a soft moan of his own as aether flares wherever their bodies touch.

"Only for you," he murmurs, and kisses the sentiment into Joshua's mouth. Sloppier this time, greedier. His touch snakes back down again, this time moving to do away with the last of Joshua's clothes, blindly tugging fabric down the sinful narrowness of Joshua's waist, past the soft, pale skin of Joshua's thighs.

Halfway done (and too impatient to finish the undressing), Clive hitches Joshua's hips up and tests his brother's willingness to let him trace along the heat of his entrance. Again, he isn't slick the way omegas would be when they're in heat (or, at least, that's what Clive has heard about omegas), but just the thought of being inside his beloved brother makes him see stars.

"Have you felt empty, Joshua?"

His sweet, perfect bird. Clive is almost out of his mind again, with how much he wants him. He pets between Joshua's legs again, rubbing the flat of his middle along his warmth.

"Have you ever touched yourself here?"

[featheredflames]

Flames but his brother's mouth is obscene. His own parts for a brief moment, in a bid to speak and reply, but a soft moan instead of words forms instead. Their aether matches in a way he's never felt before, at least not with anyone else. Sure, when they were children there was a clear affinity they had for one another, that Clive had taken the Phoenix's gift he'd imparted to him with ease...but now it becomes apparent its always run far deeper than that.

Joshua may not be slick and wet the way he has been in the past, when his first heat had come and made life unbearable until it had passed, but that did not mean his body was unresponsive. Clive's scent is heady and the weight of him welcome and warm. His face flares as attempts again to answer, swallowing hotly as his tongue finally works the way it is intended to.

"I have felt empty ever since we were parted." Which was true, although back then the hole Clive had left in his life was of a different nature. "And...I have touched myself enough to bring about relief."

Embarrassing to admit, but what was the point of embarrassment when he was on his back, ready to give himself to his brother?

"I have never been taken, if you wish to know."

[flamebrand]

There's a furnace in Clive's chest, and it's fueled by Joshua's presence in a way that he's never felt until now. The fire of the Phoenix, coupled with something... else, an inferno in his blood that he doesn't have a name for.

But he isn't thinking about what to call his aether right now: his hindbrain latches on the lurid fantasy of Joshua's slim fingers pumping in and out of his slick heat, his pretty face flushed with unsated need. The fact that he's remained untouched until now, too, makes that feral, hungry creature under his skin growl.

Clive can feel Joshua growing more pliant under him, and he teases the pressure of his finger inwards, just enough to suggest the possibility of dipping inside.

"Then I'll be your first."

Another biting kiss, with his tongue laving along Joshua's bottom lip. As if he wants to consume him, gobble him up from head to toe.

"My lovely bird. I'll fill you so that you'll never feel empty again."

[featheredflames]

The more Clive wishes to take the more Joshua wants to give. The eikon within him is stirring, its presence a heated simmer beneath his skin that flares the more he's touched. Oh how easy it is, to sink beneath Clive's weight, back against the thin mattress and simple linens. It isn't the most glamerous place to have his first time, but it is leagues above being taken in the woods. They have privacy, a clean room, and one another.

That, truly, is more than Joshua thought he could ever ask for.

There is a hunger to Clive that makes itself apparent as he teases him, drawing out a whimper of need from him as he kisses him fiercely. His first. He is so lucky, truly. So many would have jumped at the opportunity to mate with him if his suppressants weren't as effective as they were.

"Ah, Clive...please..."

It's strange how reactive his body already seems to be, nipples perky and his backside starting to grow slightly damp the more Clive prods at his entrance. There's an aching need now, growing within. He needs Clive to take him...but luckily for Joshua he would not have to wait much longer.

[flamebrand]

So many would still jump at the opportunity to bed Joshua, and Clive knows that. Right here, in this brothel, there are bound to be men who would gladly give the last of their possessions for the chance to spend a night with Joshua singing underneath them.

But it's Clive that Joshua is pleading with, Clive that Joshua is responding to so sweetly. The reality of that makes Clive strain in his trousers, greedy and transfixed; his wandering mouth finds the dip of Joshua's neck again, where it meets his smooth shoulder, and his teeth sink in dangerously close to the yet-unbroken patch of skin that would mark Joshua as his forever.

Not yet, he tells himself, though every nerve in his body yearns to bite. He slides down further, catching one pert nipple between his lips, sucking on it gently as he works that thick digit inside his brother's tight, inviting entrance, obliging please with every intention of making Joshua want more.

"So warm," he hums. "Relax for me, Joshua."

[featheredflames]

He is truly at his brother's mercy and yet Joshua finds no problem with the predicament he's found himself in. No matter what would transpire from this beyond the clear goal Clive had of mating him in full, Joshua would not regret it. His brother could do a number of things to him and no matter what he would accept it.

Just like how he accepts the thick digit inside of him with a groan, eyes half lidded as he does as he's told. It is so easy to melt beneath his brother, to let go for once and listen to his instruction. For too long he has had to make decisions, to protect himself and fight as a means of survival. How relieving it was already to simply bear himself to Clive and let him take control.

"My brother...I am so blessed to have you..."

[flamebrand]

Joshua relaxes beneath him, and that trust fills Clive with the kind of affection that grows teeth. Cute aggression, some might call it; he doesn't have the vocabulary to call it anything but love. Clive grinds closer, nudging Joshua's legs open with his own as he spreads him, makes him more pliant for another finger to join the middle.

His brother's scent gets stronger, and it's all Clive can do not to pull himself out of his trousers and claim Joshua with one strong breach. Blue eyes are blown nearly black again with lust, but his voice is gentle as he scissors his digits, filling and searching for a spot that'll make Joshua tremble.

"You'll have me soon," he promises. "I'll take care of you."

His fingers are relentless; he laves his tongue along Joshua's other nipple, then kisses a mark over his collarbone.

"Don't be quiet. Tell me everything you want."

[featheredflames]

Oh he knows that to be true. Clive would take care of him - he always had when they had been children and together. Why would things change now? Sure, much had changed for them, but their adoration and dedication toward one another never had wavered.

Joshua keens as he feels himself being stretched out, doing his best to relax as he's prepared. It would be far easier if he was in heat, but at least his body is still responsive. The more Clive's fingers work their way into him, the slicker they become. All he can do is pray that when his brother does fuck him that he slots inside of him easily enough.

Already he feels overstimulated from the lack of experience he has as Clive nips, licks and kisses him all over. His own cock is already hard and weeping. Would he even manage to last long enough for a proper coupling? Would Clive even enjoy a body like his?

"Just you."

It's truly all he wants.

[flamebrand]

Joshua sounds as sweet as he feels, and Clive cranes up to kiss that soft whine out of his mouth.

"I've always been yours", he murmurs against his brother's lips, heartened by the slide against his fingers, the proof that Joshua is starting to respond to their closeness, the inevitable joining of their bodies. "My beautiful songbird."

A shift, and he hitches Joshua's hips up just an inch, angling his fingers to brush against something sensitive, something good (he hopes). Impatient as he is, he would rather die than hurt his brother in any way; he could spend an entire night making Joshua come on his hand if he wanted.

"Do you want me to make you come, before I claim you?"

[featheredflames]

The pet name only serves to further endear Clive to him, as ridiculous as it was to think such a thing even possible. Then comes the offer of pleasure and Joshua is quick to nod, near deliriously, in response. Clive might as well have thrown oil onto the raging fire that was his heart and arousal - yes he would like to have his brother get him off before he's fucked senseless, if only to avoid the humiliation that would come with knowing he wouldn't last very long at all.

Besides, those thick digits that have already found their way inside of him are sinfully delightful. They'll milk him for all he's worth in a matter of seconds.

"Brother please...take me over the edge of oblivion."

[flamebrand]

Please. Ever since Phoenix Gate, Clive has only heard that thin, reedlike voice in his head pleading for his life, and not for release. Grief floods him anew, spreading from his aching heart outwards, but it doesn't make him stop or stutter― if anything, it makes him persist with more dogged fervor, determined never to have Joshua beg for anything that Clive won't be able to give him tenfold.

"For you, anything."

A promise (a threat). Anything. Now that Joshua is here with him, now that Clive knows that the only person who gives his wretches existence any meaning wants him, Clive would burn the world to keep him safe and cared for and sated. His brother, his love, his omega.

His fingers pump more ruthlessly, making their modest room fill with the sound of slick and heavy breathing. Clive claims Joshua's mouth again and again, determined to kiss him through his climax whenever it hits.

"Come for me, brother. My mate."