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Joshua was scheming.
Or perhaps in the middle of a scheme itself as his grins were the same, nonetheless. Clive knew each pout, all the smiles, and every giggle as intimately as the dawn knew the sun. Ten years of watchful guard and love granted him such knowledge. And he knew under no circumstance would Joshua be beaming so vibrantly in the garb he was forced to wear unless he had devised a plan to turn his luck around.
Clive stifled a chuckle, letting it only escape as a small huff that earned soured regard from their mother diligently by Joshua’s side. The two looked quite festive together—She in an elegant scarlet dress trimmed with furs and Joshua dressed to the nines in the most darling seasonal gown and matching hat sparkling of gold embroidery on the red and white fabrics.
He squalled the entire dressing process, pleading with servant and maid until Anabella herself stormed in and fastened everything into perfect place. Clive wished he hadn’t been held up with Murdoch to spare Joshua the torment, perhaps make a game of it to lighten his mood, but he arrived a moment too late. Though, he did his all to cheer up the youth with silly faces behind their mother’s back achieving moderate success and a scornful gaze once caught.
This extravagance and attention was no longer for Clive. He remembered the fussing, the dressing, the whining... Pity stowed in his heart that he couldn't bear it again for Joshua’s sake. And selfish happiness bubbled still that Joshua took the brunt so Clive could admire his cuteness. What Clive would give to sweep that bundle of Wintertide cheer into his arms and take him to the dance floor to celebrate the season —To kiss upon cheek and brow and fight the urge to pinch his sides through the thin, sparkly fabrics…
Alas, Clive’s presence now was merely keeping faces for their mother’s social sake and he fulfilling his duty as shield. Thus, he stood tall at his station in uniform, pondering just what Joshua was planning and sneaking a wink as the future archduke risked him a glance. Glee washed over Joshua’s expression, though of well-loved fluster or the rush of almost being caught Clive could not yet assess. It brought his cheeks to bunch all the same and Clive helplessly fought the snicker behind his teeth as Joshua squirmed in place.
Founder, what was that little troublemaker up to…
He wouldn’t discover until most of the festivities were played through and Joshua suddenly vanished amongst guests’ legs while the buffet was served. Brotherly instinct drove Clive to pursue and vows commanded him to rush for the sake of precaution. Even in their own home, they couldn’t be too careful and with so many guests drinking and dancing about, it would be easy for one even as prestigious as Joshua to be snatched being so small.
Heart rattling away, Clive scouted the perimeter of the ballroom, scowling at Anabella who was far too busy talking to foreign diplomats –likely for marriage proposals– to notice the absence. He frowned too at his father who spared him the briefest of nods before returning to his third drink of the night and Uncle Byron’s side. His eyes searched for Jill for aid and upon realizing she was likely outside with Torgal avoiding Anabella, opted to let her have her sanctuary while she could keep it.
Worry was on the cusp of full hold twisting his insides when at last, he spotted a flash of red, white, and gold slipping behind a door. Clive broke into a full sprint after.
By the time he reached the door, Joshua was already ducking around the corner at the end of the hallway. And when he strode to the end of the hallway, Joshua was waiting for him, donning a delighted smirk and something clearly behind his back. Clive’s brows furrowed and he opened his mouth to say, “Joshua, what are you-” but Joshua dipped into a spare room, leaving a giggle behind which smacked the rest of the question from Clive’s lips, drawing them instead to an interested curl.
Slowly, steadily, and with his hand resting atop his sword hilt in mock show of offensiveness, Clive crept down the long carpet to where a giddy little brother awaited. Charming blue eyes snuck peeks between every couple of steps, smile growing wider. His laughter was contagious and Clive exhaled deeply to banish any sudden noise to continue the game proper, but his chest was swelling with fondness so profound he simply forgot to breathe. Anticipation growing to its fullest, Clive tilted his head to steal a glimpse, eyes tracing the decorative holly on Joshua’s hat before dropping to the boy’s hand clasped over his mouth.
Then, once Joshua realized Clive was but a pounce away, he gasped against his hand, drowning in happiness so palpable it made Clive’s mouth water, before scooting further inside to encourage chase. Was no chase at all, for the moment Clive tweaked an eyebrow at his brother, all stability he held gave way to heartfelt squeals and his feet failed to grant any more distance. Clive stomped in, sweeping him up into an embrace peppered with kisses and tickles, forcing cry and laughter from the future archduke so rejuvenating to the soul that Clive thought he must have been near the brink of despair prior. He drank in each sharp inhale and smiled wider with every protest shouted in rapture, his joy finally in his arms.
Only when Joshua caught his breath and whined a sweet, “Wait, Clive!” did he relent and drop to settle the boy in his lap.
“What are you doing sneaking off, Joshua? What are you up to?” Clive inquired, stroking his brother’s cheek before slinking a finger to Joshua’s ear, forcing his shoulder to scrunch as he ghosted the backside to play with his earring. Joshua swatted Clive away and clamped his mouth shut to quell the butterflies stirring that Clive loved oh so much. He could see them forming a brilliant rose tint from Joshua’s ear, to cheeks, to nose accenting his freckles in a way that was irresistible. Still, he withheld as the younger fumbled to find his words again in his excitement.
“Clive- I…stop that! I wanted to have fun tonight!”
“Fun?” Clive echoed then raised a hand, each finger wriggling in warning above his brother’s belly. “This is fun.”
“Wait!” Joshua squeaked and reflexively grabbed Clive’s wrist, one hand still behind his back clearly holding something. No other contact was made, but still Joshua squirmed and gasped out laughter of what simply could be. It was precious and a good distraction as Clive craned his neck.
“I said wait!”
Clive halted obediently and tilted his head, observing a mischievous look that once again conferred. “What are you up to and what is behind your back, Joshua?”
For a flicker of a moment, Joshua debated all manner of things that Clive could guess such as a game of keepaway or riddles to hold Clive’s mind hostage until he answered correctly or became so tired, he simply plucked the item away. Mercifully, however, Joshua’s gaze softened to something less impish and more shy. He eased his hand to view, opening it to show what treasure he had acquired. Clive’s eyes widened.
“H-How did you get that down from the ceiling?” Clive gawked. It was surely the mistletoe meant for the entryway to the west wing, with blue ribbon, silver berries, and greenery a shade too dark for Anabella’s liking so it was banished to the most unused portion of the Rosalith Castle. No easy height up that a chair could have afforded success in reaching, let alone the ladder required by the servants to pin it.
The question begot pride and Joshua wiggled his shoulders in triumph. “I may struggle fully harnessing the Phoenix’s power, and I may not be able to fly yet, but I can make leaps and jump higher than normal if I have the strength! No climbing required!”
Like gears clicking to place, Clive pieced together answers for all manner of odd things vanishing from around the castle as well as the mystery of how certain out of reach treats were being scavenged from. Incredible, if not reckless, and something Clive was not sure if he should reward or scold.
“Joshua,” he began, tracing the leaves of the mistletoe, his heart warming as Joshua’s motive became clear, “You need to be careful not to push yourself.”
“I was careful, I promise! And this was important,” Joshua insisted as a blush tinted Clive’s face. “We’ve never kissed under one before. I wanted to where we would be safe.”
“The West Wing is hardly used,” Clive countered and Joshua sighed as if he were entirely misunderstood. Clive frowned and searched the boy’s eyes, but Joshua was always more fond of action than talk when it came to their secrets. Who was Clive to disagree when the little lord straightened up and pressed against him before lifting that fated bundle of greens overhead.
Conceding, Clive reached up with him, supporting his arm with one hand while the other cradled the small of his back. He could feel the quickened pitter-patter of Joshua’s heart and wondered if Joshua could feel his own through his vest, the very thought surging his pulse on command. This heart which beat for him, sang for him, ached with every moment they were apart…Joshua’s fingertips brushed over where it hid behind his ribs and murmured a candied, “Clive …” urging it to jump forth to greet its master.
It stole his breath away. No matter, for Joshua was there to give him all he needed.
Their lips met with a soft brush and a gentle lock that was pleasant in its innocence, but oh so easily conquered by the need and want simmering between the pair. Clive gave up that battle long ago to push down his desire, to deny Joshua their union both longed for. Indulgence was his sin amongst other things as he smoothed his tongue over those small lips, pulling closer when they opened so invitingly.
Above, Joshua’s hand opened, dangling the mistletoe by the ribbon loop with his thumb as Clive joined their hands together, cherishing the squeeze from the younger as his other hand moved to hold his jaw. Sparks jolted down his spine, dancing between their fingers and lips and settling stubbornly in his belly while their kiss deepened. It forced a moan from his chest and Joshua followed it, shimmying about with the intent of friction that set off a gasp from him moreso than Clive. Clive took the opportunity to nibble on Joshua’s bottom lip, savoring the quiver of arousal.
Then without warning, Joshua pulled away, slipping his hand from Clive’s grasp and crawling back completely from Clive’s hold, taking the mistletoe with him. The sudden distance startled the elder and his eyes widened with remorse and a plea for forgiveness. He cursed his hormones, his drive, the willingness he had to pursue instead of listen first. However, Joshua did not have a look of fear nor unease. Instead, he had a countenance of pure confidence and that sly, plotting grin.
Joshua left no time to even ask or ponder. With swift hands, he grabbed the skirt of his gown and gathered and gathered until all the fabric was bunched into one fist, revealing the truth of why they were here and not the West Wing with bare skin alone. Not even stockings were present and Clive trembled as the heat rushed from his cheeks to his groin and back again. Joshua was flushed, perked, and with an eager shimmy now holding the mistletoe at hip height in front of him.
“J-Joshua…!” Clive started and struggled to keep his mouth off the floor, “Have you been like this all evening?!”
“Most,” Joshua confirmed, then shivered before rubbing his legs together. Poor dear…it was cold today even in the ballroom and he dared pull this stunt? Clive was ever grateful, drinking him in with eyes mapping every detail before him and tongue darting out to wet his lips further. Satisfied with Clive now on hands and knees, timidly crawling towards him, Joshua continued, “I’d like more kisses please…in better places…can this be my Wintertide present?”
“T-This a present for you ?” Clive wheezed then dropped his face to the floor once he realized he said his thoughts aloud.
Joshua giggled and nodded. “It’s a good present if we both like it, then. I’ve been thinking about it since yesterday. I almost couldn’t wait.”
Yesterday. Founder, if Clive knew of this yesterday there would have been no waiting.
Disbelief climbed the back of his mind how Joshua could have come up with such an erotic idea on his own. His books, he reasoned, which had been becoming more of the romantic variety as of late—A particularly adult one recently found in his possession when Clive tucked him in one night. Or perhaps even an overheard scandalous story from the servants while he hid from his studies in every nook and cranny he could find. Both strong possibilities and whichever was the strike of inspiration, Joshua was firm in his want to try.
And Clive was firm, hard as steel and stone gazing upon forbidden flesh that begged to be explored again. Feathery lashes batted at him, coaxing him closer in a submissive crawl and head dipping to press his lips to the young boy’s shins.
Longingly, Clive whispered, “If I may, Your Grace…” and caressed Joshua’s calf as his kisses trailed to weakened knees and squirming thighs. It was all the strength he could muster not to nibble, though those thighs tempted him with how plump they were against his tongue. The gasp as he peppered kisses from hip to belly set a wicked crimson on his cheeks and he groaned before fumbling one handedly to undo his laces that he may have more comfort.
He inhaled against Joshua’s skin, savoring the aroma of oils and medicinal topicals that tingled his nose and beckoned all manner of memory dominated by his brother. From the dearest to the sultry, Clive welcomed the flood and urged it to claim all he was. And when Joshua’s own rich scent settled in the back of his throat, claiming every nerve in wanton exhale, he lingered to relish the titillation as impatient, little Joshua jutted his hips forward, striking the tip of his small prick against Clive’s throat as a match seeking flame.
Clive would give him the pyres of his devotion as he had time and time again.
Helpless, heady, and hungry, Clive’s hands grasped Joshua’s bottom, holding him in place as kiss after kiss after ravenous kiss was bestowed on his cock. The tip, the base, the sides, where it felt most sweet and Joshua’s voice climbed… no ilm was to be untouched. And so long as Joshua held fast to the mistletoe, Clive would not cease.
Eyes darting up to find approval, pleasure, and the bundle still in hand, Clive relaxed his jaw and allowed a generous lick to taste from sack to tender tip. Joshua’s body bowed, head falling forward and moan escaping all too easily. It was squelched just in time for another long draw of wriggling bliss, though his hat slipped off his head and tumbled off Clive and to the floor leaving a mess of disheveled locks.
“Clive… ” Joshua whimpered, his trembling fingers still grasping his gown losing their grip. Clive had half a thought to hoist it back up for him, to give him a show in full view. Yet, a more appealing thought came to mind. With a smirk toying at his lips, Clive sharpened his tongue to a point and painted endless circles along the tip, knowing Joshua’s legs would give as well as his skirt. And when it did, he looped a bracing arm behind him and jerked Joshua forward, fully taking him in his mouth.
The silky fabrics tickled the back of his neck as it cascaded down, enveloping him in euphoria. And when the force of Joshua’s hands landed on his head, he groaned feeling little fingers clench, trying to find purchase in his hair through the gown.
Dutifully, he filled the room with the sounds of his adoration, wet and sloppy with sucks and tongue lashings. Joshua joined, adding a choir of pantings and strangled moans behind bitten lip. It was all too much then, bringing Clive’s hips to roll against the air desperately, release feeling so far yet so near pleasing his brother alone. Just so, when Joshua properly lost himself, seeking every ounce of friction Clive’s mouth could grant in cute, erratic thrusts accented by soft, “Ah…aah…! Ah~! ” a long groan tore through Clive’s throat and his eyes shot to the back of his head.
Clive stuttered and tensed, jaw becoming entirely slack for the pulsing heat teasing his tongue with a dry climax. White ribbons sputtered thickly between Joshua’s feet, leaving him gasping for air while ecstasy washed down his back. A small part of himself was startled staring down at the mess made once he popped his mouth off the softening cock and tender sack. The majority, however, found it elating that his body was so keen on his brother’s bliss that he too could share it with abandon.
“C-Clive…oh, Clive…”
Tenderly, Clive settled his brother back on his feet, not removing support until Joshua no longer wobbled. And once certain, he crawled out from under the gown and gratefully received the sight of his beloved so thoroughly pleased and wandering in afterglow. Still in his clutches was that mistletoe, now as unkempt as he appeared with ribbon scrunched and leaves breaking. There was no innocently returning it back where it belonged, though the same could not be said for the little lord who had no choice.
Cradling his cheek, Clive began sweeping his hair neatly.
“You keep holding that and I’ll simply have to start kissing again,” he taunted, falling into laughter when Joshua’s aura of exhaustion transformed into energized willingness at the blink of an eye. “Later,” he then amended, and spared a smooch on Joshua’s forehead when he pouted. “We can’t be gone for too long. Mother will come looking.”
“I don’t want to go back…” Joshua sighed, “I want to keep having fun.”
“Oh, trust me, Joshua,” Clive replied, voice shaky and heavy, “It would give me no greater joy than to steal you away for the rest of the night. I promise, just a couple more hours and I’ll bring you to bed.”
Joshua tilted his head and frowned when Clive retrieved the hat.
“You promise?”
“Of course,” Clive murmured, then reached for the guilty greens. “Give me that and I’ll stash it away. You go get your undergarments back on. You’ll catch a cold!”
All too quickly, Joshua retorted, “Not if you keep your mouth on me!”
“Joshua!”
And with an amused giggle, Joshua traded the mistletoe for his hat and plopped it back on his head, smug and victorious that Clive obscured a bashful grin. To Clive’s embarrassment, his eyes flicked downwards to where he still presented, exposed and already becoming aroused again at the teasings alone.
“Go on,” Clive scolded, shoving himself back into his trousers as Joshua stepped forward for one final, tarrying kiss.
“Happy Wintertide, Clive…” he whispered then spirited himself away leaving Clive to clean up the mess and find his sanity.
