Twinsesensibility Part Forty Two

[dysonrules]

OMG my poor boys! I am two weeks behind! I shall have to catch up somehow. *pets them*

Lorcan was asleep. Lysander paused at the bedside and looked down at his sleeping brother, admiring the smooth planes of his face—the face that always seemed so different, even though they were identical. Lys supposed it was the hair, mostly. Lorcan preferred his combed into straight submission while Lysander’s tended to be curled, kinked, braided, coloured, or generally left in whatever condition it appeared when he rolled out of bed.

Lorcan did not exactly resemble a sleeping angel, but he was certainly a vision. He had the tendency of sleeping on his back with his hands on either side of his head. It made him look exceptionally vulnerable, something that would have caused Lorcan to give him an irritated glare if Lysander ever dared to mention it. He never would, of course. He loved the fact that no one ever got to see Lysander looking like this. No one but him.

But like the beauty of the sunrise, it was fleeting. Lysander hopped onto the bed and sat down hard on Lorcan’s midsection, sending his brother’s breath out with a rush and causing his eyes to snap open in the same movement.

Before Lorcan could move, Lysander captured his wrists and pressed them into the mattress, remembering the last time he had held Lorcan down in a position of mock submission. Fuck, the memory alone made him half hard.

“Lysander. You had better have a damned good reason for waking me up.” Lorcan’s voice was throaty from sleep, thrumming sexily across Lysander’s senses.

“It’s Christmas!” Lysander said happily.

Lorcan rolled his eyes and groaned. “Please, do not tell me it is some insane hour of the morning.”

“Very well. I won’t tell you.” Lysander leaned down and planted a kiss on Lorcan’s lips, not minding the morning breath, because he had already eaten half a peppermint stick while considering the wisdom of awakening his brother at such an early hour. Avarice had won over prudence.

Lorcan remained limp and pliant beneath Lysander and he even kissed back, which was a good sign. Lysander thought it probable that his twin did not hate Christmas quite as much as he protested.

“What do you want, Lys?” he asked when Lysander allowed him to breathe.

Lysander pondered the question. He was fully hard now and could think of quite a few things that he wanted from Lorcan. However, they were still at home and had to save their amorous leanings for times when Mum and Dad stepped out.

“I want my presents, of course,” he said with his most winsome smile.

“Lysander, you are not six any more.”

“Yes, and thank Merlin for that,” Lysander said huskily and rubbed his erection over Lorcan’s flat abdomen. His fingers tightened on his brother’s wrists and he wondered how long their Mum would stay in the kitchen preparing their breakfast feast.

“Lys.” Lorcan hissed his name and when Lysander drew himself back, his balls dragged over Lorcan’s hardening cock. He suddenly missed Hogwarts and being able to sleep naked—their pyjamas were a maddening barrier.

“Lorcan.” Lysander heard the need in his own voice but didn’t care, especially when Lorcan shut his eyes and seemed to stop breathing for a moment. “I want you.”

“You devil. You know we can’t.”

“Locking Charm,” Lysander suggested, pressing another kiss to Lorcan’s lips, hoping to persuade him.

“Mum can get through those without half trying. You know she doesn’t believe in privacy.”

Lysander groaned and buried his neck in his brother’s throat, ready to burst with frustration. “Damn it, why didn’t we stay at Hogwarts?”

Lorcan chuckled and his breath tickled Lysander’s ear. “Because you want presents and pie, and cinnamon tarts.”

“And mulled cider.”

“Yes. Now, let me up so I can get your present.”

Lysander sat up obediently and released Lorcan’s wrists, but he pouted down at him. “All right, but I expect to get my other present as soon as bloody possible.”

Lorcan shoved upward with his hips, gently, giving wordless voice to his own arousal. “As soon as bloody possible,” he repeated, eyes alight with promise.