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

[featheredflames]

"I have always been yours...think of this as just a formality."

He leans into that touch, smiling bright and sunny. Clive is reasonably distraught and Joshua aches to soothe him, but there is only so much one can do when the trauma is not so easily healed. All he can do is reassure Clive that he is here for him. He will not leave his side...not ever.

Leaning in he kisses wet cheeks, sliding his hand down to thumb away tears.

"We are together now."

[flamebrand]

It seems impossible that Joshua could smile so bright at him that way, after seeing how wretched and monstrous his older brother has become in the service of the empire that felled their homeland. Clive is utterly and wholly undeserving of Joshua's love and patience, but self-pity won't protect his brother― if he wants to repay his debts, he can do so by doing his utmost.

He pulls Joshua into a light embrace, then, and settles both of their weight against the headboard. Mindful of the soreness that Joshua spoke about, and making sure to absorb as much of Joshua's weight against him as possible.

"...We are. My brother, and my mate." Still surreal. He touches along the bitemark, settling his nerves enough that his tears dry as Joshua wipes them. "...How did you manage to survive? Who's been tending to you all these years...?"

Protectiveness surges in his chest. Who indeed, and have they been treating Joshua well?

[featheredflames]

He shifts easily as Clive moves about, settling where his brother seems they both ought to. It's simple enough to do so, and Joshua is happy to relax against him and let him touch as he wishes.

Clive's question at least has an easy answer, one that he can give him without any delay.

"The Undying found me that night...they pulled me from the rubble and have supported me ever since. I have wanted to find you...to save you sooner...but I failed to do so. Forgive me, brother."

[flamebrand]

Right. The Undying... not just a hushed truth that his father whispered to him regarding Rosfield family secrets. Joshua had mentioned them the night prior, but his sluggish brain hadn't retained it.

More importantly: "no, Joshua. None of it was your fault. I..." Another pinch of his expression, and he bites back the temptation to apologize, yet again. "...If I'm forbidden from apologizing, so too are you. You did nothing wrong, brother."

Joshua was a boy of ten. What was he meant to do, on that night and on the nights afterwards? He must have been in so much pain, so alone in the company of what must have been strangers at the time.

"As long as you're alive, nothing matters. And from here on out, I will protect you from all the world's ills."

[featheredflames]

It is a sentiment they share then. That much is made readily apparent to Joshua as he leans against his brother-turned-mate. The way Clive swears to protect him has his chest swelling with adoration, a smile etched onto his lips.

"And I shall protect you from yourself. I think it is a fair exchange, don't you?"

He leans in to press a kiss to that branded cheek of his, the sight of it a sorrowful one indeed. To think of everything Clive endured...

"There will be no more apologies for the past then between us."

[flamebrand]

From... himself. The assertion doesn't quite click (and doesn't seem quite fair, in the sense that Joshua doesn't need to do anything), but Clive nods in assent regardless, unwilling to say no to his brother even over trifles.

"We'll... look towards our future, then. What we can do to stay together."

And more, possibly. A way to rebuild Rosaria, though Clive hardly feels qualified to become a Shield again after his failures and after what he'd done during his years as a Branded slave. War crimes, assassinations― again, self-loathing swirls in the pit of his gut, but he swallows it down.

"Whatever you'd have me do, I'd do it. As your alpha, everything I have to give is yours."

[featheredflames]

"Precisely."

Clive's conviction on remaining together has him calming, finding it unnecessary to press the matter further as he simply enjoys the warmth of his brother's presence beside him. They will have to learn how to operate around one another once more, but despite everything...Joshua feels as if nothing has truly changed. He feels at ease in Clive's company as he always has.

"As my brother. You are my alpha, yes, but you are more dear to me than that."

The urge to nuzzle against him though is there, and that, surely, has something to do with Clive being said alpha. He refrains from doing so, at least initially, before he's nosing against his cheek.

"Let us take one day at a time. Together."

[flamebrand]

They've spent far too much of their lives apart. Longer than they've spent together, which is a terrible thing to contemplate. And now they're bound together inextricably, foolish as it might have been to commit to such an intense bond at the height of Clive's madness, but Clive only regrets how it was consummated, and not that it was.

He can spend the rest of his life making it up to Joshua, as long as Joshua will have him. He feels his brother nuzzle up against his cheek, and reciprocates by ducking his head to kiss along the underside of his jaw. Appreciating the correction from alpha to brother, knowing that that designation means so much to the both of them.

"Alright."

And, well. Despite the insistence upon 'brother', alpha instincts do kick in, regardless. The need to care for and shield (ha) his omega.

"I should... fetch you a washbasin. And some food." Fussy. Some things will never change.

[featheredflames]

Doting as ever. Joshua won't deny Clive an opportunity to take care of him, not when it's something he needs. Nodding, Joshua agrees, even though he'd like to stay like this a moment longer...they need to start moving.

And, admittedly, a washbasin is needed. Clive left him incredibly sticky after their coupling last night.

"If you are all right to do so...I will stay here. I promise."

[flamebrand]

I'll stay. Clive recalls, hazily, how he'd begged and pleaded Joshua not to go anywhere the night prior, and he flushes slightly at the indignity of it― how unseemly, to have made his brother worry about him. His flush gets a bit more prominent as he peels himself away from Joshua, only to see the state of him: littered with lovebites and with spend dried on his thighs from where Clive had unceremoniously knotted him only a few hours ago.

He clears his throat. Sheepish, slightly ashamed.

"I'll... also bring some salve."

For the bites. Gods forbid Joshua use his Eikon for something like this.

[featheredflames]

"Thank you, Clive."

Another smile to reassure, to let him know that he will be still alive and fine when he returns from his little quest. Salve sounds, admittedly, wonderful, and while Joshua could make his aches disappear in a moment thanks to his eikon...he ought not to just yet. He's still exhausted from the coupling that had taken place.

"I'll be here."

[flamebrand]

A little smile as a response to 'thank you', and Clive gets up and out of bed...

...only to realize that all he has to wear is his cobbled-together Sanbrequois gear. Not even standard-issue, given that all of them were scavenged on the battlefield; he'd definitely look like a runaway Branded if he chooses to leave the room in those.

So. He pulls on his underwear, then moves towards the room's one dresser, where he's relieved to find a few sets of clean clothing. One set for female courtesans, and another for the male courtesans. He pulls on the biggest of the latter, and though they still hug his body uncomfortably tightly, it's better than looking like a deserter.

"...I'll need a change of clothes," he muses as he smooths the shirt over his chest. If he moves too suddenly, the fabric might rip.

[featheredflames]

Ah.

Clive looks as if he is ready to ooze out of the clothing he just donned and Joshua unfortunately cannot help but stare. His brother is so attractive it is somewhat alarming. Despite the cruel conditions of the army, his body is something to marvel at.

He really needs to stop ogling him.

"I have coin. Surely the Dame can part with something simple..." Something not so revealing.

[flamebrand]

"Later, perhaps. Your items are the priority."

Clive is all muscle, but it's muscle that was maintained for utility and practicality. He views himself as nothing more than a well-sharpened sword, and so thinks little of his current state besides the fact that, god, the pants are uncomfortable.

Oh well. "I'll be right back. Stay comfortable."

Despite the hard-to-ignore frisson of anxiety that runs up his spine at having to leave― the paranoia that will be hard to quell, even with Joshua's reassurance― Clive manages to step out and into the hall, ducking his head whenever he passes the Veil's inhabitants to avoid them looking at him or his brand for too long.

Small mercies: the Dame is a patient, understanding woman. She laughs at the state of him, but gives him fresh linens, washcloths, and directs him to the back of the establishment where he can get water both to drink and to use to clean. Afterwards, she promises that she'll personally come deliver the both of them a hot meal, as she's sure that her runaways wouldn't want a stranger to come knocking at their door.

It's kind. Devastatingly, even. Clive hasn't known kindness in an age, and he's overwhelmed by it all by the time he returns, eager to be back in his brother's periphery.

"...Joshua?" As he peers inside the room. "I'm back."

[featheredflames]

As Clive embarks on his quest to find something to clean themselves with, Joshua does his best to move about and stretch his body as best he can. It is a bit of a struggle at first, the ache in his limbs and backside ever apparent when he finally does come to stand. Still, he has endured worse, and he gets to work making the little bed up so it is less messy than they had left it in.

At some point he finds a robe to wrap himself in, if only for modesty's sake, before he clambers back atop the bed. Another few moments of rest shouldn't be too much of a bother, and he has found himself dozing once again when Clive comes back into their room.

"Mm? Oh, Clive." He stirs, sitting up to rub at his eyes once more. "Were you successful?"

[flamebrand]

Tension bleeds out of Clive upon seeing his brother's curled form on the bed. Joshua has grown into a beautiful young man, but hints of their childhood boyishness remain－ it's a strange comfort, and one that Clive clings to as he moves to sit by the edge of the mattress once more.

"I was." Balancing the basin and the washcloths, which he places on his knees. The waterskin to drink out of is offered to Joshua with a gentle nudge, and he reaches to press the flat of his palm against his brother's forehead. Checking for a temperature, the way he used to years prior: almost an ingrained reflex, one that even years as a Branded soldier hasn't been able to beat out of him.

"You could sleep more, if you need it. I can tend to you while you rest."

[featheredflames]

He takes the waterskin with a hushed thanks, bringing it to his lips to swig back a mouthful. It is refreshing in exactly the right way. He hadn't realized he'd been parched.

"Mm...no, it's all right. I will get up."

He shifts slightly, smiling at the palm against his forehead before he reaches for it to pull Clive's hand toward his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

"I've slept enough. No need to laze about when there is much to be done."

[flamebrand]

A genuine smile, less tired or fraught this time around, when Joshua takes his hand and presses a kiss along it. Easy, unearned affection. It settles into Clive like a salve, soothing over the years of pain and torment that he'd come to expect in the presence of others.

"Don't push yourself."

It overwhelms him, how easy it is to fall into this rhythm despite feeling so much like a changed man. He's no longer the little lordling of fifteen summers who felt bolstered by his title of First Shield, and yet a part of him craves those halcyon days, longs to pick up where he left off.

Callused hands dip into the basin with a washcloth in tow. Slightly sheepishly, he glances towards Joshua in his robe, and lets his gaze wander downwards.

"...Last night, I..." Knotted you sticks in the back of his throat. "...I acted rashly. Do you feel...?"

Odd? Different? Clive doesn't know what an omega would feel after getting bitten and potentially bred.

[featheredflames]

"I feel a bit sore, admittedly. All over. Not just...down there."

He's sheepish, face coloring as he meets Clive's eyes. Still, he smiles. He can't do anything but smile at his brother right now.

"You need not worry about it. Standard aches and all. If I feel anything different, which is what I am assuming you are asking Clive, I feel relieved."

Setting his brother's hand down he moves to cup his face again. The overwhelming emotion he feels looking at him is utter adoration, but who is to say whether that was simply how he felt in general or if it had been made stronger by their newly forged bond.

"I love you, Clive. I am happy to see you again."

[flamebrand]

Clive is still overwhelming to hear, especially in his brother's soft voice. Not Branded, not Wyvern. Not nearly as disarming as 'I love you', obviously, but the combination of those two elements is enough to momentarily knock the wind out of his lungs.

His chest tightens with emotion. Involuntarily, his eyes flick down to the floor in trained deference, a common defense he'd used in the Sanbrequois army to hide what his expression might betray; he catches himself a moment later, damp washcloth in hand, and glances up again, his reciprocal smile affection-laced.

"...You've made me cry enough. Don't make me start again."

A tentative hand brushes against the front of Joshua's robe, requesting tacit permission to pull open the front to start wiping Joshua clean.

"You have all of my love as well, Joshua. May I spend the rest of my days proving it to you."