TDIR: Keeping Vesta's Fire
Fandom: The Dark is Rising
Main characters: Will, Bran
Referenced characters: N/a
Pairings: Will/Bran
Contains: Sex
Rating: R
Summary: It's always the same when Will comes home.
Notes: Fourth in a series of pornlets for
feywood, celebrating our sixth anniversary. The idea is that I've picked an OTP per year, roughly: The Dark is Rising is my comfort-fandom, and Will and Bran have been faithful companions. Vesta was a Roman goddess of the hearth and home, hence the title. Hover over Welsh words for explanation/translation.
Will comes home with the dawn. He always does, no matter how long he's been away, no matter when his plane was supposed to get in. The coming of the light.
Bran wakes at the sound of the key in the lock, as he always does. It's like a weight has lifted off his chest and he can breathe again; he's smiling and sitting up in bed by the time Will comes up to the bedroom. His hair is tousled, wrinkled pillow marks on his cheek, and Will lights up that little bit more with the familiarity, the homecoming, as he leans down to kiss Bran.
Normally, Bran would be up with the dawn himself, but never on the mornings Will finally comes home. He tumbles Will down in the bed beside him instead, presses him down and kisses him, fiercely sweet, burning away the loneliness they've shared while apart. He gets Will's clothes off -- and normally they might be fairly methodical, used to each others' bodies, but not now. After so many years, they might look as though they're only in their twenties, but the Beltane fires of their first desire has become a hearth-fire instead -- except for these mornings, when Will comes home and finds Bran waiting. They get each other's clothes off, leave them in heaps on the floor, and for a few moments as they move together, knowing and sure, they consume each other entirely.
"Cariad," Bran says, afterwards, which he rarely says. "Croeso adref."
Will turns his face to Bran's, resting their foreheads together, and smiles.
This was originally posted here, on Dreamwidth. I would prefer people to comment and subscribe to me there, if you already have an account; I'll happily share Dreamwidth invites, if you want to make an account. Comments aren't disabled here on LJ, though.
Main characters: Will, Bran
Referenced characters: N/a
Pairings: Will/Bran
Contains: Sex
Rating: R
Summary: It's always the same when Will comes home.
Notes: Fourth in a series of pornlets for
feywood, celebrating our sixth anniversary. The idea is that I've picked an OTP per year, roughly: The Dark is Rising is my comfort-fandom, and Will and Bran have been faithful companions. Vesta was a Roman goddess of the hearth and home, hence the title. Hover over Welsh words for explanation/translation.
Will comes home with the dawn. He always does, no matter how long he's been away, no matter when his plane was supposed to get in. The coming of the light.
Bran wakes at the sound of the key in the lock, as he always does. It's like a weight has lifted off his chest and he can breathe again; he's smiling and sitting up in bed by the time Will comes up to the bedroom. His hair is tousled, wrinkled pillow marks on his cheek, and Will lights up that little bit more with the familiarity, the homecoming, as he leans down to kiss Bran.
Normally, Bran would be up with the dawn himself, but never on the mornings Will finally comes home. He tumbles Will down in the bed beside him instead, presses him down and kisses him, fiercely sweet, burning away the loneliness they've shared while apart. He gets Will's clothes off -- and normally they might be fairly methodical, used to each others' bodies, but not now. After so many years, they might look as though they're only in their twenties, but the Beltane fires of their first desire has become a hearth-fire instead -- except for these mornings, when Will comes home and finds Bran waiting. They get each other's clothes off, leave them in heaps on the floor, and for a few moments as they move together, knowing and sure, they consume each other entirely.
"Cariad," Bran says, afterwards, which he rarely says. "Croeso adref."
Will turns his face to Bran's, resting their foreheads together, and smiles.
This was originally posted here, on Dreamwidth. I would prefer people to comment and subscribe to me there, if you already have an account; I'll happily share Dreamwidth invites, if you want to make an account. Comments aren't disabled here on LJ, though.