x.
[To say Castor had expected his brother to push him into the wall early in the morning would have been a lie, because it caught him by surprise, hands coming up to Pollux's shoulders. He was pressed there for some moments in a heavy silence, and upon carding his fingers through his twin's hair, the (slightly) older boy pulled back just enough to have their eyes meet.
"I'm not okay with dreaming about you dying, Cas. And I'm not fucking okay with a lot of other things." There was something else he wanted to say, and it was easy to tell, but twins didn't have to communicate everything in words. Sometimes, looks and touches were enough.
Cupping his brothers's face in his hands, Castor nearly smothered him with a forceful kiss on the lips to shake the other boy out of this. He understood more than words could say. The possessiveness was so easy to pick up on, especially when it was something he'd felt himself before. Time for some reassurances.
"I'm yours. There's no me without you, never has been a Castor without Pollux. So stop--" kiss "--and come--" kiss "--make breakfast with me. Twit."
"Prick," the elder one murmured back against his mouth with a weak smile, slinging his arms around Castor's slim waist to drag him in the direction of the kitchen for much needed twin time.]