[FIC] Never Distant Enough.
Title: Never Distant Enough.
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou.
Warnings: Incest.
Characters/couples: Gwendal/Conrad, implied Gwendal->Dan Hiri and Conrad->Wolfram.
Summary: Gwendal wasn't expecting for Dan Hiri to look at him with Conrad's voice and his soft smile.
Rating: NC17.
Notes: Written for springkink: Kyou Kara Maou, Gwendal/Conrad: Incest (duh!) - stables, summer
Never Distant Enough.
Gwendal isn't surprised to find Conrad in the stables, shirtless, brushing his horse after another fight with Wolfram. It was what Gwendal had come to do, because they were both taught by Conrad's father, even if at the moment Gwendal hated that knowledge, hated how Dan Hiri tried to treat him like his son, as if they were the same.
Dan Hiri had told them that they should try to bond with their horse, try to make sure the animal trusted in them. Mazoku horses live longer than human horses and just maryoku to build trust between a horse and a rider wasn't enough.
Gwendal tries not to think of Dan Hiri now as he looks at his brother, just like he has been doing since Conrad came back from his military training. Gwendal wasn't expecting his younger brother to be so tall, for his shoulder to have broadened.
He wasn't expecting for Dan Hiri to look at him with Conrad's voice and his soft smile, nor the way that angers him and... something else.
At least, Conrad doesn't know this. He knows his upset, probably thinks it has something to do with him, but his brother is too polite to inquire. Especially when he is also upset by Wolfram's behavior towards him.
The thing is that he needs to let go of whatever has been building inside him, because he won't be the one to hurt any of his brothers. Not like this. Not when sometimes, Conrad looks at him with hurt eyes, giving him the same expression he still gets when Wolfram slaps his hand away.
“Conrad,” he says suddenly, pausing before he picks up another brush. He feels his brother's eyes over him and he forces himself to speak, glaring at the wall as if it had particularly offended him. “I'm not upset with you.”
“Brother?”
He hears Conrad leave the brush, muttering a 'stay calm, pet' to his horse before coming closer to him. Gwendal refuses to admit he's blushing at the sudden change of subject and just takes off his gloves and outer jacket.
“I just... you haven't done anything, and I'm sorry if you thought...”
Conrad's hand presses against the small of his back, softly. Gwendal is still able to feel every single detail of his hand, starting just by the heat and when he turns around in shock, Conrad moves forward.
Conrad kisses him before he can speak; Gwendal, surprised, allows the kiss to deepen before he realizes, but by then one of his hands is curled soft against the nape of Conrad's neck, and when he tugs, trying to break apart to reclaim both of their sanities, Conrad gives a small moan. It's Gwendal who kisses him then, softly, a strange familiarity in the shape of their mouths that makes something burn inside him, moving his other hand to press the body of his brother closer to him.
Conrad's hands work on the buttons of his vest, of his shirt and then against his skin, swordsman's hands moving over his chest, tracing his collarbone, arms around his waist as they kissed, soft slickness of tongue against tongue and Conrad moaning softly inside his throat.
It's Conrad who pushed him on top of the hay and straw and Gwendal ignored the way it prickled at the skin of his back and focused on the way Conrad straddled his lap, trying just not to think, Conrad's uniform breeches not nearly thick enough to disguise his erection. They both shuddered as their clothed erections touched each other, and Conrad, hands pressed against his chest, moved again, and then again.
“Conrad...”
“Let me, please, let me” Conrad asks, and Conrad so rarely asks for something and his eyes are closed, lips partly open. Gwendal bits his lip and then grips his brother's hips to feel the way he moves against him, trying not to think of what it would be to feel this completely, how it'd be to taste all of Conrad's skin and have him like this again, but with his cock inside Conrad, feeling the flex of muscles and the tight heat it'd be.
“Brother,” Conrad moans softly, moving faster. Gwendal tries not to wince at the way Conrad calls for him and instead moves one of his hands to the front of Conrad's breaches where his erection tents them, presses there, rubs his thumb and hears the moan Conrad makes, the way his hips try to move faster, riding him and Gwendal thrusts back, keeping his eyes open while his brother's were closed and he gasps. “So good, please... I want...”
Gwendal swallows but nods, lets go of Conrad (and his brother makes a distress sound at the loss; Gwendal feels his cock jump at that) just enough to fight with the buttons of his breaches, pushing them down. He bits on the sound of distress he is about to make when Conrad lifts up enough to get them down until his boots allow him and then Conrad looks at him, eyes open and desperate, face flushed and he looks so much like...
“Please, brother,” Conrad says, licking his lips, hands hesitating over his own breeches. “I want you, please.”
Gwendal just nods and hisses a little when Conrad's hand touch the skin of his waist and tugs down at his own pants; with his free hand, Gwendal reeches for his brother and kisses him again, opening his lips with his tongue, hand curled at his hair and pressing him as close as they were just a seconds before. They both hiss when their cocks touch.
“Here,” Gwendal says and his throat feels dry when Conrad moves again to his lap, hands over his shoulders. “If you want to stop...”
“I won't, brother, please,” Conrad voice both promises and begs and Gwendal's cock twitches again at the same time his stomach tightens, but he moves his hand to Conrad's cock before he starts stroking; Conrad gives a small moan and Gwendal gasps, shuddering at the way Conrad's wanton face looks, at the way Conrad's moving on top of him and the way that brushes against his erection and he strokes him faster. He is unable to stop from moaning when Conrad gives a strangled moan, pressing his flushed face against his neck as he comes. He thinks he hears Conrad muttering a name.
Gwendal hates himself a little when he holds his spent brother close, breathing on the smell of his hair and sweat and takes hold of his own erection, jerking himself off hard and fast, thinking of Dan Hiri. Knowing that Conrad probably wasn't thinking completely in him as he came doesn't make it any better.
When they both catch their breaths, they dress in silence. Conrad goes back to grooming his horse and Gwendal does the same.
They never speak of that summer again.
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou.
Warnings: Incest.
Characters/couples: Gwendal/Conrad, implied Gwendal->Dan Hiri and Conrad->Wolfram.
Summary: Gwendal wasn't expecting for Dan Hiri to look at him with Conrad's voice and his soft smile.
Rating: NC17.
Notes: Written for springkink: Kyou Kara Maou, Gwendal/Conrad: Incest (duh!) - stables, summer
Never Distant Enough.
Gwendal isn't surprised to find Conrad in the stables, shirtless, brushing his horse after another fight with Wolfram. It was what Gwendal had come to do, because they were both taught by Conrad's father, even if at the moment Gwendal hated that knowledge, hated how Dan Hiri tried to treat him like his son, as if they were the same.
Dan Hiri had told them that they should try to bond with their horse, try to make sure the animal trusted in them. Mazoku horses live longer than human horses and just maryoku to build trust between a horse and a rider wasn't enough.
Gwendal tries not to think of Dan Hiri now as he looks at his brother, just like he has been doing since Conrad came back from his military training. Gwendal wasn't expecting his younger brother to be so tall, for his shoulder to have broadened.
He wasn't expecting for Dan Hiri to look at him with Conrad's voice and his soft smile, nor the way that angers him and... something else.
At least, Conrad doesn't know this. He knows his upset, probably thinks it has something to do with him, but his brother is too polite to inquire. Especially when he is also upset by Wolfram's behavior towards him.
The thing is that he needs to let go of whatever has been building inside him, because he won't be the one to hurt any of his brothers. Not like this. Not when sometimes, Conrad looks at him with hurt eyes, giving him the same expression he still gets when Wolfram slaps his hand away.
“Conrad,” he says suddenly, pausing before he picks up another brush. He feels his brother's eyes over him and he forces himself to speak, glaring at the wall as if it had particularly offended him. “I'm not upset with you.”
“Brother?”
He hears Conrad leave the brush, muttering a 'stay calm, pet' to his horse before coming closer to him. Gwendal refuses to admit he's blushing at the sudden change of subject and just takes off his gloves and outer jacket.
“I just... you haven't done anything, and I'm sorry if you thought...”
Conrad's hand presses against the small of his back, softly. Gwendal is still able to feel every single detail of his hand, starting just by the heat and when he turns around in shock, Conrad moves forward.
Conrad kisses him before he can speak; Gwendal, surprised, allows the kiss to deepen before he realizes, but by then one of his hands is curled soft against the nape of Conrad's neck, and when he tugs, trying to break apart to reclaim both of their sanities, Conrad gives a small moan. It's Gwendal who kisses him then, softly, a strange familiarity in the shape of their mouths that makes something burn inside him, moving his other hand to press the body of his brother closer to him.
Conrad's hands work on the buttons of his vest, of his shirt and then against his skin, swordsman's hands moving over his chest, tracing his collarbone, arms around his waist as they kissed, soft slickness of tongue against tongue and Conrad moaning softly inside his throat.
It's Conrad who pushed him on top of the hay and straw and Gwendal ignored the way it prickled at the skin of his back and focused on the way Conrad straddled his lap, trying just not to think, Conrad's uniform breeches not nearly thick enough to disguise his erection. They both shuddered as their clothed erections touched each other, and Conrad, hands pressed against his chest, moved again, and then again.
“Conrad...”
“Let me, please, let me” Conrad asks, and Conrad so rarely asks for something and his eyes are closed, lips partly open. Gwendal bits his lip and then grips his brother's hips to feel the way he moves against him, trying not to think of what it would be to feel this completely, how it'd be to taste all of Conrad's skin and have him like this again, but with his cock inside Conrad, feeling the flex of muscles and the tight heat it'd be.
“Brother,” Conrad moans softly, moving faster. Gwendal tries not to wince at the way Conrad calls for him and instead moves one of his hands to the front of Conrad's breaches where his erection tents them, presses there, rubs his thumb and hears the moan Conrad makes, the way his hips try to move faster, riding him and Gwendal thrusts back, keeping his eyes open while his brother's were closed and he gasps. “So good, please... I want...”
Gwendal swallows but nods, lets go of Conrad (and his brother makes a distress sound at the loss; Gwendal feels his cock jump at that) just enough to fight with the buttons of his breaches, pushing them down. He bits on the sound of distress he is about to make when Conrad lifts up enough to get them down until his boots allow him and then Conrad looks at him, eyes open and desperate, face flushed and he looks so much like...
“Please, brother,” Conrad says, licking his lips, hands hesitating over his own breeches. “I want you, please.”
Gwendal just nods and hisses a little when Conrad's hand touch the skin of his waist and tugs down at his own pants; with his free hand, Gwendal reeches for his brother and kisses him again, opening his lips with his tongue, hand curled at his hair and pressing him as close as they were just a seconds before. They both hiss when their cocks touch.
“Here,” Gwendal says and his throat feels dry when Conrad moves again to his lap, hands over his shoulders. “If you want to stop...”
“I won't, brother, please,” Conrad voice both promises and begs and Gwendal's cock twitches again at the same time his stomach tightens, but he moves his hand to Conrad's cock before he starts stroking; Conrad gives a small moan and Gwendal gasps, shuddering at the way Conrad's wanton face looks, at the way Conrad's moving on top of him and the way that brushes against his erection and he strokes him faster. He is unable to stop from moaning when Conrad gives a strangled moan, pressing his flushed face against his neck as he comes. He thinks he hears Conrad muttering a name.
Gwendal hates himself a little when he holds his spent brother close, breathing on the smell of his hair and sweat and takes hold of his own erection, jerking himself off hard and fast, thinking of Dan Hiri. Knowing that Conrad probably wasn't thinking completely in him as he came doesn't make it any better.
When they both catch their breaths, they dress in silence. Conrad goes back to grooming his horse and Gwendal does the same.
They never speak of that summer again.