[The prick of cold steel under the top of his throat has no problem getting his head to lull back—not enough to not feel the blade’s gentle bite, but enough to keep him alive. Both hands fist into the sheets, and he arches his lower back, stretching full beneath Higekiri.
When he looks down over his cheeks beneath his lashes, there isn’t anything but Higekiri reflected within his eyes.]
Yours, elder brother. Always. Forever.
[This time, there’s no stunned terror and no hurt from betrayal. Just the churning, wanting heat in his groin that somehow matches the craving, hungry heat in the middle of his chest. It’s impossibly good. Like a spar, like a battle, the start of it.
He has a scar on his foot and an inscription behind his ear—loyalty. But neither of these things is what he desires.] Elder brother... please make me yours. [It’s begging. He’s begging.]
no subject
When he looks down over his cheeks beneath his lashes, there isn’t anything but Higekiri reflected within his eyes.]
Yours, elder brother. Always. Forever.
[This time, there’s no stunned terror and no hurt from betrayal. Just the churning, wanting heat in his groin that somehow matches the craving, hungry heat in the middle of his chest. It’s impossibly good. Like a spar, like a battle, the start of it.
He has a scar on his foot and an inscription behind his ear—loyalty. But neither of these things is what he desires.] Elder brother... please make me yours. [It’s begging. He’s begging.]
So I never forget.