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Vash, second prince of Eden, was to be married. It was not, objectively, a strange circumstance to find himself in. After all, he was already eighteen and had been of marrying age for several years now. So really, it wasn’t a strange thing at all for him to be engaged. As royalty, it was rather unusual that he hadn’t already been married off for a political alliance. 

It was, however, not something his older brother and King of Eden, Knives was going to allow, should he find out. 

Anyone else would have been eager to marry Vash off the first opportunity they had; after all, until Knives himself got married and had a child himself, Vash was next in line for the throne. Not Knives though. It was a well known fact that someone would have better luck attacking the castle single handed than trying to marry his younger brother.

Knives wasn’t even terribly older than Vash; only eight years. After their parents' deaths ten years ago though, he had taken his new role as Vash’s guardian just as seriously as he had taken his ascension to the throne. 

The proposal, as far as those sorts of things went when it was between royalty, was a rather nice one. For one, the letter was addressed directly to Vash himself rather than his brother, as most were. That was part of the reason Vash was seeing it in the first place. From what Vash had heard, he had actually received quite a few proposals over the past few years and even several before he had come of age at fifteen. 

The proposal came from the duke of a small, but decently prosperous duchy on the other side of a neighboring kingdom. According to his letter, the duke was older — a man in his forties who’s first wife had passed away several years before and he hadn’t been particularly interested in remarrying since. Then, a few months ago, he saw Vash at a banquet and became intrigued. 

Truth be told, Vash couldn’t quite remember the man’s face. According to the letter, they had spoken only a few minutes, but it was apparently enough time for Vash to enchant the duke, or so his letter claimed. It was a political proposal, even if it had come in fancier wrapping. 

Still, Vash had a vague memory of a man with a somewhat rough, but kind demeanor. It was good enough; after all, Vash wasn’t going to marry for love anyway. So, Vash had written back to the duke and accepted his hand. All Vash needed to do now was get there and the deal would be sealed.  

The truth was, Vash was simply getting desperate. Not to get married, but to get away. He was deeply, desperately in love with truly the worst person he possibly could have fallen for. He was in love with his brother. 

Everyday it seemed like his feelings grew, alluring corrupt things that whispered with the voice of a succubus and begged him to commit the unthinkable. Vash needed to get away before the love he felt for his own kin consumed him whole and he did something he could never take back.

Vash wanted Knives in a way no one should ever want their own blood and he needed to leave before Knives could possibly find out.

God, but he wanted Knives. Watching his brother conduct court, Vash was plagued by thoughts of crawling up onto his lap and pressing himself against Knives’s battle hard body. What would the court think if they saw their king plunder his own brother’s body while sitting on the throne? Maybe Vash should line up with the peasants who came to ask for the court’s assistance with their troubles and beg Knives to take him right then and there. 

“Vash?” Knives asked, pulling his brother’s attention back to the present. “Is something wrong? Do you not like the soup?”

“No!” Vash hastened to reassure him, quickly taking a bite of truly divine, if slightly cold, tomato bisque. “It’s wonderful, thank you.” 

He couldn’t believe he had gotten distracted at the dinner table of all places, with the object of his fantasies sitting directly across from him. Vash used to indulge in them more, back when he was younger and it hadn’t fully sunk in how dangerous they were. Just because tonight would be one of his last chances to think about Knives without the added guilt of fantasizing about someone other than his husband, didn’t make it right. Vash truly was a terrible brother. 

“I’m glad,” Knives said, “because I was starting to become concerned that it had grievously wronged you from the way you’ve been glaring at it for the past several minutes.”

“Apologies, my head has been elsewhere.” 

“Do you have a headache?” Knives asked, looking concerned. He leaned forward to better examine Vash’s complexion, his long ponytail falling to rest over his shoulder. “Perhaps you should retire early tonight.”

Vash chewed his lip, guilt filling his stomach faster than any food ever could. 

“I might, thank you,” Vash said, unable to meet his brother’s eyes.

Knives raised a hand, causing a maid to materialize at his side.

“Have my brother’s valet bring him something for his head.”

“Right away, your highness,” she said, curtsying once before disappearing again.

“I’ll be fine, really,” Vash insisted. “You needn’t worry about me.”

“I pay the man’s salary,” Knives waved off Vash’s protests, “the least he could do is his actual job . He’s a bad enough attendant without you actively letting him slack in his duties.”

Vash smiled wanly. Normally, he’d put up more of a fight, but right then, Vash didn’t want to fight with his brother. After all, it would be the last he saw of Knives for a while.

“Thank you, Nai.”

“Of course,” Knives replied. “For you, anything.”

It was a nice sentiment and would have made Vash feel better, if it were true.

I think I'm drowning, asphyxiated

I wanna break this spell that you've created

“This is a bad idea, Blondie,” Wolfwood, Vash’s valet and closest friend said, watching as Vash dug through his drawers. “I’m telling you, this is only going to end in trouble. No way is your brother going to let you run off and marry someone he hasn’t thoroughly vetted.”

“That’s why I’m not asking him first.” Vash pulled a shirt out of his dresser, glanced it over, and then tossed it in the direction of his trunk. Vash, not wanting to alert anyone of what he was planning, had waited until the very last minute to pack and was now regretting it. Packing up one’s entire life turned out to be a much larger task than he’d anticipated.

“You’re signing your new fiance’s death certificate is what you’re doing.”

Vash paused, holding two mismatched stockings in each hand.

“Isn’t the expression that I’m signing my own death certificate?”

“There’s no way the King would kill you.” Wolfwood said instantly. “A stranger who might dare put his hands on his precious baby brother though? Oh absolutely.”

“It’ll be fine,” Vash waved off, tossing the stockings in his trunk as well. “Knives might be upset at first, but he’ll respect my decision.”

“He’ll never accept it and you’re an idiot if you actually think he will.”

“And you’re rude.” Vash crossed his arms. “Now, are you going to help me pack or not? You are my attendant after all; you’re supposed to help me.”

“Absolutely not,” Wolfwood replied, mirroring Vash’s stance and crossing his own arms. “I think this is ridiculous and a terrible idea and I’m not going to help.”

“You’ve accused dozens of my ideas of being the exact same thing before and you helped me with those!”

“This time I mean it. This isn’t a mistake I’m interested in helping you make.”

“Then what good are you?” Vash chucked a balled up pair of gloves at his valet’s head, which Wolfwood easily dodged.

“ Your wrath is cute. Your brother’s wrath is deadly.”

You're something beautiful, a contradiction

I wanna play the game, I want the friction

Surprisingly, Wolfwood remained steadfast in his refusal to help Vash collect his belongings, instead watching as Vash tried to stuff as many things as possible into an already overstuffed trunk and making sarcastic comments as he did so. 

“Sorry, Wolfwood,” Vash whispered as he glanced out the back of the carriage. It was probably unfair, leaving in the middle of the night without even his valet, but he couldn’t risk being talked out of this. He needed to get away, get as far as possible before he did something truly regrettable. 

And so, he had slipped out after telling his valet that he was having second thoughts and might leave the next night instead. Bribing the carriage driver had proved more difficult than Vash had expected, but after several reassurances that the man would have a new job in Vash’s new home and wouldn’t have to return to the wrath of King Knives, they were off. 

The last thing he had done before leaving his chambers was write a letter to his brother.

Dear Nai,

I’m sorry that you had to find out like this, but I have decided that for once, I must take my destiny into my own hands. 

When next we meet, I will be a married man. I know this will come as a shock to you, but it is what I want. I am sorry to not receive your blessing before the wedding, but I hope to ask forgiveness and receive it after.

With great love and sorrow,

Vash

There was more he wanted to say — always more he wanted to say when it came to Knives, but he left it at that for now. He slipped it into an envelope before sealing it with wax and his family crest ring which he left beside it as well. After all, he would soon no longer be a part of this family.

In the back of the carriage, as they disappeared into the night, Vash finally let himself relax, leaning into the hard wooden bench. The royal carriage he usually rode in with Knives was much more luxurious and comfortable, but less than ideal for a cross country trip without a band of knights to guard them. 

It was happening — he was actually leaving. The fact his plan worked was only really just sinking in. This was it; Vash would finally be able to move forward and put these feelings he had for his brother to rest. 

Nai doesn’t love me, he reminded himself. Nai can’t love me. Nai will never love me, not the way I want him to . 

Pulling the tie from his hair, Vash allowed his blonde locks to spill loose. He finger combed it out until it hung neatly, just barely brushing the tops of his shoulders. It was pin straight and a little limp, unlike his brother’s beautiful platinum blond waves. Comparing them wasn’t the point of taking his hair down though; right now he just wanted to relax. Now without the uncomfortable lump of a band, Vash rested his head back against the shaking wooden wall of the carriage. 

Vash took a sip from the flask he had convinced Wolfwood to smuggle out of the kitchen for him, the sharp burn of brandy flooding his tongue. Wincing, he took another even smaller one. Vash had only really had wine before and the intense flavor was not what he was expecting. Still, he was an adult and right now he needed to calm his nerves.

The brandy must have been stronger than Vash had thought though because a moment later, he felt his eyes growing heavy. Vash let the exhaustion take him as the adrenaline finally drained from his body. It would be a long carriage ride to his new home after all; he had time to rest.

I wanted freedom, bound and restricted

I tried to give you up, but I'm addicted

Vash blinked, vision blurry for a moment as his eyes struggled to focus even in the dim light. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t place it. Where was he? 

“You’re awake,” a voice, smooth and familiar, called. 

“Too loud.” Vash closed his eyes again and shook his head before immediately regretting it. The motion did nothing but invite further nausea. “Don’t feel good.”

“It’s alright,” the voice said, coming closer, the soft cushion he rested on dipping as they sat beside him. “I’m here now.” A warm hand was laid on his shoulder, a comforting weight that seemed to anchor him to the soft surface below him. The very still surface. 

That was what felt wrong Vash finally realized — the bench below him should have been hard and shaking with every rock they rolled over. The last thing Vash could remember was being in the carriage, taking a sip from the brandy and…

He wasn’t in the carriage anymore. 

Opening his eyes again, it only took a moment for Vash to realize where he was. He might not have spent much time in the room since Knives had inherited the throne, but Vash knew these chambers well. He was in the King’s chamber; he was in his brother’s bedroom. 

Not only that, but he was laying on his brother’s bed, a place he hadn’t been since before Knives had inherited the throne and it had been their parents. Vash had been careful to avoid it for the past several years, terrified of the temptation to do something obscene in the place his brother slept. 

Odder than his location though, was the ropes that bound his wrists and secured them above his head to the headboard. 

“Is that better?” Knives asked, beside him pressing a cool hand to the side of Vash’s neck. “The nausea should dissipate soon.”

“How?” Vash asked. “How did you know?”

“It would seem your dear friend isn’t quite as loyal as you believed,” Knives’s smile was wry. “Even I was surprised that he sought me out to betray your trust like that.”

“Damn it!” Wolfwood must have suspected Vash would try to leave without him and slipped something into the brandy. 

“I’m sure he knew what a mistake you were making.” The bed shifted as Knives got up, moving to sit on a blue velvet settee next to the bed, leaning over to pick up a full glass of red wine from the ground, two empty bottles beside it. “The man is not quite the oaf I believed him to be after all. I must commend your choice in valets, if only in this one instance.”

Knives raised the glass as if to toast Vash, then brought it to his own lips. Vash had seen his brother have a glass of wine with dinner, but he’d never seen his brother like this. Knives was almost… disheveled looking. Instead of his usual perfectly put together appearance, he was dressed only in a pair of pants and a simple shirt with the first several buttons left undone. His normally artfully tied up hair hung over one shoulder, the tie halfway to falling off.

“Are you… drunk?” Vash asked in disbelief. 

“What, am I not allowed a little wine on the day that my brother decided to abandon me?” Knives asked it as if it was a joke, but the hard look in his eye said otherwise.

Shit.

“I didn’t abandon you, I swear. I just—”

“Just left with barely a note saying goodbye,” Knives finished for him, his voice twisting sarcastically. “You’re right, that is different.”

Vash flinched. Of course he had known that he would have to explain himself eventually, but he hadn’t expected to have to so soon. He thought he would have more time to explain, to come up with an excuse. Even as the fog from whatever had knocked him out dissipated though, no reason came to mind. No reason he would be able to voice anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Vash said, his voice quiet. What else could he say?

“I didn’t know you were so eager to sell yourself to the highest bidder.” There was an undeniable bitterness in Knives’s tone.

“That’s not fair.”

“You’re right, it wasn’t the highest bidder. It was some pathetic old man.”

“He’s not—” Vash was cut off though by Knives crossing the few feet between them, and bringing his half full wine to Vash’s lips and tilting the liquid in. More got on Vash’s shirt than in his mouth, staining the white linen a deep rouge.

“Drink up, brother,” Knives said, trying to pour more into Vash’s mouth, “we’re celebrating.”

More made it into Vash’s mouth this time and he swallowed several mouthfuls before choking and turning away. In his movements, the mostly empty glass was knocked from Knives’s hand, falling onto the bed and spilling a blood red arc across the luxurious sheet.

“What?” Vash spluttered, still coughing a little. He pulled at his bindings — still tight. “What are you talking about?”

“Why, your engagement of course.” Knives picked up the glass and set it on the floor. “An engagement deserves a celebration, don’t you think?”

“I thought you didn’t want me to marry him.”

“Of course I don’t mean to him,” Knives dismissed. “You can’t marry without my permission and I would never give my permission to someone so undeserving.”

“What are you talking about then?”

“Well, I figured that if you are so intent on whoring yourself out that you don’t care who it is, then why not do the honors myself?” Knives smiled as if he had just told the cleverest of jokes. “If I had known, I would have thrown in a bid or two.”

“Don’t say things like that; it’s not funny.” Even hearing it said in that sarcastic tone was too much. “We’re brothers .”

“So?” Knives shrugged, as if what he was suggesting wasn’t utterly ridiculous. “It’s not like such things are outlawed here. Marriage within the royal family used to not only be common, but required to keep the blood pure.”

“That was centuries ago!” Vash argued. 

“Even if sensibilities have changed, I’m the King and head of the church; no one would not dare go against me. My word is law.”

Vash looked away, his face burning. 

“Stop teasing me. If you’re really so against it, I won’t marry him, okay? You don’t need to bully me in such a way to make me stay.”

Don’t offer me everything I could possibly want with no intention of giving it to me.

“Oh, this has moved beyond that buffoon.” As he loomed over Vash, Knives’s grin was more a threatening baring of teeth than an expression of happiness. “This is about us , my dear brother. It’s always been about us.” There was a seriousness in his brother’s tone that made something in him shudder. As preposterous as it was to even consider, it seemed his brother’s offer was genuine.

“So what? You’re going to marry me to keep me trapped in this castle and then go off with some mistress?” 

Vash had always known that seeing his brother fall in love would be hard and he had spent years preparing himself for the inevitable eventuality; avoiding it was one of the reasons he had run in the first place. Watching the husband he loved fall for another, all while he was supposed to carry on with a smile would simply be too much to bear. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to survive it. 

“You think me so disloyal as to get a mistress?” Knives scoffed at the idea.

“Then what is the plan? Just lock us both into a union of celibacy? The church wouldn’t like that very much. You need heirs.”

“Heirs that you, my spouse , will give me.”

“I don’t understand. I —”

“Don’t you? Then let me make myself clear.” Knives sat up, towering over Vash where he was still restrained to the bed. Vash suddenly felt very small and weak compared to his older brother. Obviously, Vash had known for a long time that there was a difference in their strength levels — the idea that Knives could toss him around without breaking a sweat was something that Vash had explored thoroughly in his late night fantasies — but he’d never experienced it quite like this. Knives’s strength had always felt reassuring and protective, not menacing. 

Now, Vash was reminded that while he grew up protected by the castle walls, Knives had lead charges of the battlefield. Vash was utterly at his brother’s mercy.

“What are you —”

“This is what will happen,” Knives continued as if Vash hadn’t spoken at all, his eyes locked with Vash’s. “We will marry and you will be queen, enjoying all the freedoms you have in the past without any concern about them being taken away. And when I come to you, like a good little wife, you will spread your legs for me and let me take what I want.” Knives laughed then. “Though, I suppose you will be the one taking from me.”

“You wouldn’t,” Vash said, unable to understand his brother’s meaning for anything other than what he was obviously implying.

“Oh, but I would, my dear brother.”

“But…” Vash tried to think of an argument, of something to say, but his mind was going blank. All those tireless nights spent listing all the reasons he shouldn’t want his brother the way he did, useless now. “But we can’t.”

“Oh, but we very much can.” Knives leaned forward, the other smell of wine wafting off of him, his hand resting oh so lightly on one of Vash’s thighs. “Now, won’t you open your legs for me, my darling fiancé? I know it’s before our wedding, but I hope you don’t mind my breach of decorum. I feel as if I must prove myself for you.”

No, the word was on the tip of Vash’s tongue, I won’t. It’s wrong . It was what he should say.

“It’s a bad idea,” he said instead, even as Knives’s hands slipped between his thighs, easily parting them. “Please Nai, you’ll regret it.” 

You’ll regret it and hate me and I don’t know if I could live with myself .

“No, I won’t.” Knives slipped between Vash’s spread legs, resting his weight against his younger brother. “Just as I won’t regret this.”

Before Vash could turn away, Knives’s lips were on his, kissing deeply. Vash had imagined this moment a hundred times over before. In his fantasies, Knives was firm, but tender, kissing Vash tentatively at first, testing the waters before pressing further. Their first kiss was meant to be sweet, full of nothing but loving hope and joy for hidden feelings returned in kind. It was meant to be gentle, an easing of their transition from chaste to something more. It was supposed to be romantic.

This was not that. There was no love in Knives’s kiss, no hesitation or concern for rejection. Instead of lips pressed softly together, there was an almost animalistic hunger in this. Their teeth clicked together, Knives’s tongue invading Vash’s mouth, tasting of wine and just a bit of blood. Vash wasn’t sure if he even was kissing back — it felt more like a battle and one that he was losing. It was loud in the otherwise quiet room, an obscenely wet sound as Knives pressed Vash down onto the mattress. 

Watching his brother finally break away and give him space, Vash felt himself flush at the heated look in his brother’s eyes, pupils blown wide. Knives’s lips were slick with spit and seeing him wipe his mouth dry made the whole thing feel far more lewd than romantic. 

“The only thing I might regret,” Knives said, panting just a little after going so long without breathing, “is not waiting till our honeymoon when I could unwrap you like a present. Though, there’s nothing stopping me from doing that now anyway.”

“Why are you doing this, Nai?” Vash asked, his own voice coming out in huffs. 

“Because you belong to me! You can’t leave me! I won’t allow it!” 

If he had been able to move his hand, Vash would have covered his ears at his brother’s sudden raise in volume.

“You don’t want this,” he tried to reason. Knives was drunk and upset — he wasn’t in any state to make life altering decisions. And what he was suggesting that he intended to do would certainly be life altering.

“Stop telling me what I want!” Knives shook his head. “I know what I want. I want you.” His tone was petulant in a way Vash hadn’t heard his brother sound in years. Not since their parents died and he had put away all childish things and ascended the throne at just sixteen. Had it also been that long since Vash had heard his brother express such an intense desire for anything at all?

Vash worried at his lip, teeth digging groves into the place his brother’s mouth had just been. 

“You can’t blame me in the morning.” It was a terrible idea to give in, but Vash was also only so strong. How could he insist on refusing the man he loved when he looked at him with such need in his eyes?

Knives didn’t say anything to that, only leaned in again, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the side of Vash’s throat. Vash should pull away; even if his hands were anchored to the bed, he should shove him with his shoulders or even kick his brother off. Despite knowing it was the wrong thing to do, Vash leaned into the touch instead. He hated it, hated how much that despite everything, he was enjoying this. Knives was drunk and upset and lashing out and Vash was pressing up into the touch, desperately wanting more. Vash had hurt his brother and was now finding pleasure from his brother’s pain.

Distracted by his brother sucking hard kisses onto the side of his neck, Vash jerked when he felt his pants being pulled from his hips. He hadn’t even noticed Knives unbuttoning them.

“Wait, I —” Vash moaned, before being cut off by another heated kiss. With a few quick yanks, Vash’s pants and undergarments were tossed to the side, leaving him utterly bare from the waist down, save for his stockings. 

“Lovely,” Knives said, sitting up to gaze admiringly at Vash’s body. Without further warning, Knives reached down and ripped the front of Vash’s shirt open, sending the buttons flying.

“Nai!” Vash yelped, looking down, shocked at his brother’s display of forcefulness. Below him, Vash’s torn shirt lay open, revealing pale skin that went all the way down to his knees, the sight unimpeded by cloth. Even if he wasn’t technically fully naked, everything worth covering was on display for God and his brother to see.

“You’ll have to forgive my haste,” Knives said, trailing fingertips from Vash’s chest down his stomach. “I think I deserve some leniency, all things considered. After all, it isn’t everyday that a King gets engaged.”

Engaged . There was that word again, that impossible idea. Even if Knives claimed that was what he wanted now, there was no way he would want Vash in the morning when the horror of what they had done sank it. Vash would be lucky if avoiding him was all Knives would do after this. Knives would surely resent him, maybe even hate him once he realized what Vash had forced his hand and made him do this.

Trying to distance himself from the brother he loved so terribly, Vash had tried to run. Who knew that the truest way to push Knives away would be to give in to the temptation that had plagued him for years? 

Because surely, this would be the end of any relationship between them. Vash wasn’t so foolish as to think that a romantic one would replace the familial bond that they were in the process of severing.

“You don’t have to do this, Nai,” Vash tried again. “I’ll stay, I promise.”

“Why would I leave the table when the feast is already laid out in front of me?” Knives asked, fingers drifting lower, past the thatch of hair that covered his sensitive sex from view and then further down still.

Vash gasped at the feeling of his brother pushing into him, overwhelmed by the enormity of the action. It was only one finger, less than Vash took when he touched himself in the privacy of his room, but it was Knives’s finger. Knives was inside him, had breached him in a way he had fantasized about for years, curling his finger up and stroking Vash from the inside. 

“So wet already.” Knives leaned down to whisper in Vash’s ear before taking his lobe gently between his teeth. “Whatever am I going to do with you? Are you always so ready and willing, or is it just because of me?”

“I —” Vash cut himself off. What could he say? That he was pretty sure that he’d been wet since the moment Knives had mentioned the idea of them having sex, even as he argued against it? 

“Have you ever done this?” Knives asked, pulling his finger out to press two back in their place. The sound of Knives’s fingers driving into him felt obscenely loud in Vash’s ears. “Are there more secrets that you’ve been keeping from me? Have you let someone else lay between your legs; touch you like this?”

“What?” Vash asked, struggling to focus on his brother’s words when his hands were so distracting. “Of course not!” 

Who would Vash want anyway, save his brother?

“Untouched,” Knives said, slipping out and lightly tracing his fingertips between Vash’s swollen folds. “I’m the first?”

“Mmm!” Vash moaned, squirming under his brother’s gentle touch. 

“Tell me,” Knives demanded, a little sharpness back into his voice. “Tell me I’m the only one to ever touch you here.” His demand was punctuated with a solid slap, just hard enough to sting the skin a little, making Vash jerk in his binds. 

“Nai!” Vash gasped. 

“I want,” another sharp slap to Vash’s pussy, “to hear you say it.” This time he left his hand there, rubbing Vash’s clit with his palm.

“Just you!” Vash managed to gasp out. “Only you! You’re the only one who has touched me like this! I promise!”

“Good.” Knives crooked two fingers, suddenly sliding them back into Vash’s body, “See how a little communication can get us both what we want?” 

“Wait, Nai!” Vash whined, trying to wiggle out of his brother’s grasp. The ropes that bound his wrists to the headboard held tight though, limiting Vash’s movements little more than trying to twist around. Even that was stopped by Knives’s other hand on his hip, anchoring him into place. 

“You’re right, I’m getting ahead of myself,” Knives said, pulling his fingers from Vash’s body, leaving him suddenly empty and open. Vash breathed a sigh of relief, even as a part of him mourned the loss of stimulation; finally Knives had come to his senses. “I’m far too dressed for this.”

Vash watched in rapt attention as Knives got up on his knees between Vash’s spread thighs and pulled his own shirt over his head, casting it to the ground. It had only been a few days since Vash had last seen his brother shirtless, having gotten up early to spy on his brother’s morning training session, but there was something completely different from watching from a window and from a few precious feet away. Knives’s abs flexed with each movement, his shoulders tensing as he undid his belt. Smooth skin like a god carved from marble, the muscles of a warrior, hair fine and spilling over one shoulder where it had come loose from its usual tied position; Knives was beautiful in a way that put all else to shame. The moon could disappear tomorrow and Knives could replace her in the sky, his perfection enough to pull the tides.

Then, Knives’s belt was off and his pants were being pushed off and kicked away and Vash had an unobstructed view of the rest of his brother’s body. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, even if he knew he shouldn’t look. Knives was hard. Despite all logic, Knives was hard and looking at him , was stroking himself as he looked at Vash like he was anything to look at. He was hard and dear god did he look big. 

“Well?” Knives asked, a smile playing at his lips. “Do I meet your approval, brother dearest?”

“I don’t think you’ll fit.” Vash hadn’t meant to say his thoughts out loud, was too distracted by the god who knelt between his legs.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Knives laughed, letting go of himself to grab Vash’s hips and hike them up, pulling them closer, “I will. We were made for this, after all.” As he spoke, Knives pressed against him, letting the head of his cock rub against Vash, spreading his slick onto it as Knives pressed against his clit.

Then, the brother Vash had been in love with for as long as he could remember was pushing between his folds, sinking into him. The first push burned, forcing his tense muscles apart — stretching them to accommodate his brother’s size. When Vash touched himself, he’d never thought to see how far he could stretch himself and now he was worried that he was at his limit.

“Nai!” Vash whimpered, tears spilling out. “It’s too much, Nai! Please!”

“It’s alright,” Knives soothed, rubbing away a tear with his thumb. “It’s not too much. Look, you’ve already taken me in. See? I fit just fine.”

Vash blinked blurry eyes, glancing down. It was a little hard to see from his angle and without being able to wipe away his tears, but from what he could see, Knives was right. He wasn’t quite flush against Vash, but he was already fully inside, disappearing into Vash.

“Just, careful, okay?” Vash asked, eyes still on where he was stretched obscenely around his brother’s cock. 

“Anything for you, dear one.” Knives picked up one of Vash’s legs, kissing the side of his knee once before moving it to rest against his chest. “I would never want to break such a precious gift. You’re mine after all. Getting to do this is as much my birthright as being King.”

Just as he said, Knives’s movements started out slow, rocking in and out of Vash steadily, allowing the younger man to gradually get used to the feeling.

“Oh god, Nai!” Vash jerked as Knives brushed a spot inside of him. It was the same place Knives had stroked earlier with his fingers, but this time the pressure was ten fold. “Right there!”

“Don’t you see how much I can give you?” Knives asked as he finally picked up the pace, driving harder into Vash’s body and battering that sensitive spot with every thrust. “Were you truly so unsatisfied with your life here that you would rather run away? Do I not provide?”

“Nai, please!”

“I have given you everything; is it really just this, ” Knives emphasized his meaning with a snap of his hips, “that was so lacking? Did you run because you were so desperate to be touched? Don’t you know that you need only tell me and I would have welcomed you into my bed with open arms?” 

Hiking Vash’s legs up further so that Vash was almost bent in half, pressing his knees to the bed, up near his head, Knives bared down on him, driving Vash into the mattress with every thrust.

“No!” Vash shook his head, trying to push his brother’s words from his mind. It couldn’t be the case, it couldn’t . Knives was drunk and upset — that was the only reason he was doing this now. 

“You think I wouldn’t relish slowly taking my time as you fell for and melted in my hands? Piece by piece until you were laying there, quivering beneath me? Instead this is what has to be done instead.” Knives’s frustration was obvious in every word, in his bruising grip on Vash’s thighs, in the sharp slap of their bodies.

“You’re lying!”

“Never,” Knives growled, his voice husky and his breath quick. “You know how much I love beautiful things, Vash. Do you really think that I would turn down such a gift if you had presented yourself to me? Perhaps when you were young, I would have had you wait, but you’ve been an adult for a while now.”

Was what his brother said true? If Vash had shown up in his chambers that night instead of trying to run away, would he still be here, being pressed into the mattress by his brother? 

Of course it wasn’t true; even Vash could see the ridiculousness of such a claim. This was the result of Vash’s own folly and manipulation of Knives’s emotions — Knives could never want him like this.

“I would burn the world down for you and you wouldn’t even say goodbye to me?” There wasn’t just frustration or anger in Knives’s voice, but genuine hurt and confusion. “Did I not care for you? Did I not provide for you?”

“I’m sorry,” Vash whimpered.

“Why did you run from me then?” A note of desperation had pushed its way into his brother’s voice. “Was my love not enough for you? Am I not enough for you?”

“You are! I’m sorry!”

“Don’t you see? I would do anything for you, all I ask in exchange is a little cooperation.” 

“I know, I know.” Vash could feel fresh hot tears spill from his eyes and down his cheeks. What his tears were for, he didn’t know anymore. Any pain or discomfort he had felt at the beginning had abated by then, leaving overwhelming pleasure in its wake. Tears of over sensitization, of pleasure, of extreme guilt over that pleasure, of fear of what this night might bring, blurred his vision.

Vash felt himself slowly come undone with every thrust into his body, edging ever closer to the precipice of ecstasy. 

“Right there,” Vash gasped, so close, so damn close to falling apart. “Please Nai, please!” Reaching down between them, Knives rubbed Vash’s clit with his thumb, circling it and occasionally slipping off the sensitive spot from how slick Vash had become. Still though, it was enough.

“Say my name,” Knives panted. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Nai!” As he came, Vash thrashed against his bonds, the rope cutting into his skin and burning where it held him in place. Knives didn’t break his rhythm, even as Vash whimpered in overstimulation. Chasing his own release, Knives pounded into him, holding Vash bent in half and with the only option being to take it.

Knives gasped as he came, pressing himself deep inside, as if he got deep enough, they would never be separated again. Vash twitched at the feeling of hot cum spilling into him, filling him in a way he had never known before.

“You can’t leave me, Vash,” Knives whispered in his ear. “Promise you won’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” Vash said. “I promise.”

“Good, because I will never let you go. You’re mine, understand?”

“Yes,” Vash agreed, because how could he say anything else? He always had been Knives’. 

Knives brushed his fingers through Vash’s hair, moving it off of his wet cheeks. 

“You’ll be the death of me, I swear.” There was softness in his voice and so much  sudden tenderness that Vash had no idea what to do with it.  

“I love you,” Vash sobbed, unable to hold it in anymore. “God, Nai, I love you so much.” 

“Don’t cry my love,” Knives leaned forward, pressing a kiss to one of Vash’s closed eyes, kissing away his tears. “I’m here. I have you.” 

Now that you know I'm trapped, sense of elation

You'd never dream of breaking this fixation

You will squeeze the life out of me

Vash woke the next day, to a soreness in his shoulders and a pounding in his head. Even if he hadn’t drunk enough last night to have a hangover, the lack of sleep along with whatever Wolfwood has slipped him, had certainly done him in. 

He wished he could say that for a moment, he didn’t remember last night — that it was all a haze, but he couldn’t lie to himself like that. How could he ever forget the feel of his brother’s hands on him, of his brother inside him? How could he forget when he could still feel the slick proof of what they had done between his legs? 

Glancing over, Vash watched his brother’s chest rise and fall in the rhythm of sleep. In sleep, Knives looked younger than his twenty-six years, his profile proud and skin unlined. This past decade of ruling must have been harder than Vash had realized, if the stress had made him snap so far last night.

Part of Vash wanted to reach out to touch him, feel those high cheekbones, that strong jawline, those lips that had been pressed against his own only hours before. He didn’t though — another part knew that if he did so, then the morning would come and this would all be real. 

Also, his hands were still bound above his head.

What would happen when Knives woke up? Vash felt genuinely clueless. Would Knives hate him and regret his action? Would he blame Vash? Would he hold true to his word and marry him? 

Even if it sickened him, his brother was an honorable man. If there was a chance that last night’s activities might have taken, Knives would feel obligated to honor his ridiculous proposal from last night. The idea of tying his brother to himself so unfairly made something inside Vash feel cold and alone. Would —

“If you continue staring,” Knives said without opening his eyes and interrupting Vash’s thoughts, “I fear holes will burn through my head.”

“Sorry.” Vash ducked his head, looking away. Beside him, Vash felt the bed shift as his brother sat up.

“No, I’m sorry,” Knives responded, reaching up to fiddle with the ropes that still bound Vash’s wrists. “I didn’t intend to leave you tied all night. Are your arms alright?” 

“I’m fine.” Vash nodded, focusing on stretching out his arms rather than Knives who was still sitting so close. They were a bit sore from the awkward position and there was definite rope burn around both wrists, but Vash would be alright so long as he remembered to wear long sleeves for a few days.

“If you feel any numbness or pain, let me know,” Knives said, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss on Vash’s forehead. Vash couldn’t help but tense at his brother’s sudden proximity, even if the touch was light and fleeting. “I wouldn’t want to have done you any lasting harm.”

Knives moved away, stretching a little, before getting out of bed. He seemed utterly unembarrassed by his own nakedness, not bothering to cover up at all on his way in and out of the restroom, running comb through his long hair. Vash was powerless but to just watch his brother’s display, rooted to the spot. It was only when Knives walked back in that Vash had to look away from sheer embarrassment. Knives wasn’t hard or anything, but seeing him fully nude, seeing his cock, Vash couldn’t help but remember how it had looked, pumping in and out of him. 

It was still surreal, the idea that he had actually lain with his brother only hours before in the very spot he still sat.

“I think I would like some breakfast,” Knives announced, pulling a cord by the door to let a maid know that their assistance was required. Only when there was a knock a minute later did he finally put on a robe before calling for the maid’s entrance. 

Vash, who knew just about all of the staff by face if not name as well, recognized the girl immediately. Meryl walked into the room and looked at Knives, the floor still strewn with last night’s clothing, and finally up to Vash. Too late, Vash realized what he must look like — sitting in his brother’s bed, stripped of all clothes save a pair of stockings and his torn shirt. Flushing with mortification, Vash grabbed the covers and pulled them up to his chin, barely fighting the urge to hide his head as well. Thank god the blanket was at least covering his lap.

“Master Knives?” She asked, very purposefully turning away from Vash. 

“Breakfast for two will be required as well as a bath. We will be taking both in my chambers.” Knives said, going to his desk and looking through a few papers. “Send a scribe up afterwards as well, in perhaps an hour or two. I have an announcement that I want to make.”

“Certainly. May I ask the nature of the announcement so I know which scribe might be appropriate?”

“Why,” Knives turned to look at her for the first time since she entered the room, an uncharacteristically wide smile on his face, “I will be announcing my engagement of course.”

“Your…” Meryl looked stunned, her eyes darting to Vash for just a moment. “I see. Um… congratulations?” She looked more confused than anything else. 

“Thank you.” Knives’s wide smile seemed only to further unnerve Meryl. “Have someone help you collect Vash’s things and bring them here as well. It’s not urgent, but I would prefer it done by lunch.”

“Here, my lord?”

“I know it’s not customary until after the wedding, but I would prefer to keep an eye on my new fiancé, lest he decide to do something very foolish indeed.”

Vash winced at Knives’s words, guilt filling his belly.

“Right away,” Meryl said with a low bow before turning for the door, still decidedly not looking at Vash.

“Oh,” Knives called after the woman, “Vash will be needing some salves for his wrists as well. Something that will work well for rope burn.”

“Right away, your highness,” she said before all but running from the room.

“That probably wasn’t a good idea,” Vash commented as Meryl disappeared. 

“What?” Knives asked as if he genuinely saw no issue with anything that had just happened.

“Letting her see us like this.” Vash waved a hand, indicating the two of them as well as the room at large. “She might think… bad things.”

“If you do not trust her, I can have her dismissed immediately.”

“No, that’s not it!” Vash hastened to say. “I like Meryl, don’t fire her. She’s my friend.” 

Knives looked at him, unimpressed.

“You’re friends with all of the servants”

“I mean , you’re the King. Your image is important.”

“It is,” Knives agreed.

“So it’s bad if people think that, I don’t know, that you let me seduce you or something.”

“You didn’t though.” Knives now just looked confused, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that was suddenly very distracting. “Besides, why would that matter?”

“It’s… I mean…” Vash blinked, trying to focus on his brother’s words and not the way his chest bulged with his arms like that, the robe slipping open a little more.

“Vash,” Knives stepped forward, “I do not, in any way, care about what people think of my personal life. The only part of my image that I need to maintain is that of a competent leader. So long as they follow me and are obedient toward me, what does it matter to me what their opinions are?”

Suddenly, Vash found himself leaning back as Knives came closer, pushing Vash’s legs apart and settling a knee between them. Vash fell back, laying down as Knives inched ever closer from above, hands resting on the bed on either side of Vash’s head, and his long hair sweeping over one shoulder to tickle Vash’s cheeks. It felt dangerously close to the position that they had been in last night and Vash felt himself flush at the memory. The knee between Vash’s thighs moved up, pressed in close enough for bare skin to meet bare skin. 

“So eager for it first thing in the morning,” he said, smirking at Vash. “So wet already.”

“That’s from last night! It’s —” your cum . Vash couldn’t bring himself to say it. God, he still had his brother’s cum in him from last night. 

“In that case, why not join me in the bath and we can get you all nice and clean?” Knives pressed his knee a little harder against Vash, not enough to hurt. “Then I can get you messy down there again.”

“Nai,” Vash complained, squirming back. “Don’t tease me."

“I would never make any promise I don’t intend to deliver upon,” Knives said, getting up and giving Vash some of his space back. “Now come, we can talk about the wording for our happy announcement while we bathe.”

“You're sure then?” 

“About what?” Knives asked, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to Vash instead of hovering above him.

“That you actually want to… you know…” Vash trailed off, hoping Knives would fill in the gap for him. Not bothering to sit up, Vash instead rolled on to his side to face his brother.

“Marry you? Of course.”

“But you don’t need to. I won’t leave if you don’t want me to.” If Knives requested it, Vash would remain by his side for the rest of his days, with his bed warmed only by the memories of his night with his brother. “I won’t accept any other offers, I promise.”

“Vash, do you not want to marry me?” Knives asked, looking like he was trying to solve a puzzle in his own mind. “Do you not love me?”

“That’s not it,” Vash said, shaking his head. “I do. It’s just that our love is different.”

“How?”

“The kind I feel, it’s not the kind I’m supposed to.” Dancing on the edge of the truth like this, it felt dangerous; like a crack in a dam, beginning to widen.

“And what kind are you supposed to feel?”

“Like a brother. I don’t though. I want… things , the kind of things one shouldn’t want from a brother.”

“Like what? My death so that you might ascend the throne?”

“No!” Vash felt sick at even the thought. “I want you , Knives! I’ve wanted you since before I even knew what it meant to want someone. I’ve fantasized about nights like last night since I discovered what pleasure was.” 

Vash froze as soon as the words left his mouth. He had spent so long running from this, not saying what he felt so deeply, it felt unreal that he had blurted it out so casually. 

Honestly, after last night, Vash had no idea what to expect anymore. His unnatural desires, his betrayal of his brother’s trust, it was all laid bare. Yes he knew that Knives could accept a night spent together, but a decision fueled by heated emotions and a lifelong lust for one’s own sibling were different things.

Vash prepared himself for Knives’s to pull away, to distance himself, to understand why Vash couldn’t accept his proposal.

Instead, Knives just buried his face in his hands.

“So what you’re saying,” Knives started, voice muffled, “is that you’re attracted to me, which is why you won’t marry me?”

“Exactly!”

“You do see how that makes absolutely no sense at all, right?” Knives’ face was still buried as he spoke, starting to sound defeated.

“You don’t get it, Nai! I’m not just attracted to you, I’m in love with you! Romantic love. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

“Then marry me!” Knives demanded, looking up from his hands.

“I can barely be around you knowing that our feelings aren’t the same,” Vash tried to explain. “It would destroy me to marry you, knowing that you did not love me too. I can handle my brother not being in love with me; I cannot handle the husband I love so desperately not loving me back.”

“Why are you so sure you know my feelings better than I do? I told you, I want to marry you. Just because it took me longer to recognize these feelings, why are they less valid than your own?”

“That’s not what I’m —”

“Do you know what I thought when you were born, Vash?” Knives interrupted. “I thought that God had given me a beautiful present that no one could ever take from me. As children, I wanted to be your protector, to keep you from harm. Especially after our parents died, I wanted you to grow up loved and cared for.”

“I know.” Vash did. Knives had given up his own childhood to ensure that Vash had one himself.

“Last night though,” Knives said, an edge creeping into his voice, “when I heard that you had left and rushed to your chambers only to find a note in your place, I was devastated. I always knew it was a possibility that something might try to take you from me, but I never thought it would be you who fled my side.”

“I should have talked to you,” Vash said, heart clenching at the real hurt in his brother’s voice.

“For the first time in my life, I realized that love, that devotion might not be returned. It cut far deeper than I thought anything could.”

“I do care!” Vash insisted. “I just… it’s complicated.”

“Later,” Knives continued, bringing a hand up, the back of his knuckles lightly brushing Vash’s cheek, “when you gasped out my name and told me that you loved me, I felt whole. It was as if a piece of me that I didn’t even know could be taken had been returned.”

Vash shook his head.

“You were drunk and angry, none of that was real.”

“If I did not love you back, I wouldn’t have slept with you,” Knives said as if it was truly as simple of a decision as that. “There would be no reason for me to bed my own blood if I did not love you.”

“I…” All of Vash’s arguments, all his reasoning for why there was no way Knives would ever love him, were crumbling away. “But you can’t.”

“Why are you so intent on arguing against the feelings I have expressed abundantly in both words and actions?” Knives asked. Tilting his head to the side, Knives considered his brother, as if Vash was a puzzle he simply didn’t understand the rules on how to solve. “You don’t want to believe I love you, do you?”

“I do!” Vash insisted, but even as he did, he realized it was a lie. Some part of him truly didn’t want to believe Knives’ words. “I mean, I think I do. I… I don’t know. I want to want to. I just… I’m scared of it being true.” 

Nai doesn’t love me. Nai can’t love me. Nai will never love me, not the way I want him to . Vash had repeated this to himself so many times, it had felt almost like a prayer. How could he suddenly believe the opposite? Years of denying himself that the love he so desperately craved was not an easy thing to let go of. 

Was it really just that though? Was fear really the only thing keeping him from getting what he has desired for so long? 

“Then do what you have always done when you were afraid,” Knives held open his arms, “trust that I will be there to protect you.”

“I tried so hard for so long to let you go. If I have you for even a moment, I don’t think I could survive letting you go.” 

“Then don’t let me go.”

Heart pounding with a mix of too many emotions to name, Vash tentatively crawled across the bed and into his brother’s lap. 

“You won’t leave me?” Vash asked again, needing reassurance.

“Never,” Knives confirmed, wrapping his arms beneath Vash’s knees and behind his back before standing; Vash held securely to his chest like a groom might his bride. “Now, my love, I believe I promised you a bath.”

“I can walk,” Vash insisted even as he wrapped his arms around the back of Knives’s neck, a soft laugh escaping. 

“Of course you can, however I find that I would rather you save your strength.” Knives leaned close, his breath tickling the hair around Vash’s ear. “After all, I promised a repeat of last night’s show, did I not?”