dysonrules (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dysonrules) wrote2010-05-26 09:51 pm
dysonrules) wrote2010-05-26 09:51 pm
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Twinsensibility Part Fifty Seven
I know I didn't post last night, because if I would have stopped this halfway I would have been lynched. So, without further adieu, I present, THE REAL REUNION. :D :D :D Uber thanks to Esby for the beta!!!! *glomps ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
byaghro *
It seemed like forever before they finally made it home. Between the trip to St Mungo’s to have Lysander fully checked out, healed of cuts, scrapes and bruises, and subsequent questioning by a team of Aurors, Lorcan was frustrated to the point of wanting to destroy something. Even then, the ordeal wasn’t over. Friends and family had cycled in and out throughout the afternoon and well into the evening.
Lysander basked in the attention. Lorcan sat at his bedside, close enough that a quick outreach of his hand would bring him into contact with his twin. He closely examined every person who entered the room, alert for hidden Portkeys or nefarious agendas. After he caught himself casting a quick Legilimens on his aged Aunt Bessie did he realize he was acting slightly paranoid.
“Lorcan, I’m not going anywhere,” Lysander said softly, leaning closer to him while Bessie nattered on about her aching joints and need for orthopaedic spells for her shoes.
“I know,” Lorcan replied shortly. The mad bastard that had kidnapped his twin was in Ministry custody, luckily for him before Lorcan was given the chance to see him. Apparently he had been harbouring a long-time grudge against their parents for some perceived theft of intellectual property. Their mother could not even recall the specifics behind his claim. Their father recognized the man, but he was just as perplexed as the rest of them about the strange fellow’s burning need for vengeance.
Regardless, he was to be sent to Azkaban and thereafter given deep psychological examinations. Lorcan vowed to keep tabs on the man, just in case he should ever be released from Azkaban, or less likely, to escape. Lorcan’s need for revenge had not come close to being satisfied. The bastard had taken Lysander from him. He had marked his brother’s flesh. The scars would most likely heal, according to the medi-wizard who had examined Lysander, but the psychological marks would not.
It was late when they finally arrived home. The boys had been given a pass from school, at least for a couple of days. Lysander suffered his mother’s hugs and his father’s uncharacteristic display of emotion one last time before the door shut, leaving them alone in their familiar childhood room.
Lorcan gave the door a couple of additional Locking Charms just in case their mother decided to check on them. He had no intention of being interrupted.
Lysander was seated cross-legged in the middle of his bed, cuddling his stuffed giraffe, whose spots were nearly worn away from the love Lys had bestowed on it over the years.
“Raffie! I miss you so much when I’m at school,” Lysander cooed. Lorcan felt an irrational surge of jealousy toward the toy. He stalked over to the bed, crawled onto it, and pushed Lysander flat by sprawling over him, crushing the idiotic giraffe between them for a moment before his hand curled around one fluffy leg and wrenched it free. He flung it with perhaps more force than necessary into a corner.
Lysander’s voice was disapproving. “Lorcan, be nice to Raffie.”
“No,” Lorcan said flatly. “There has been too much between us, lately, and I’ll not suffer another thing, especially an inanimate stuffed toy.” With that, he wrapped Lysander in a hard embrace and buried his face in his brother’s neck, holding him fiercely. Merlin, he had been so afraid he would never see Lysander again, even though he hadn’t really let the thought surface, he knew it had been there, lurking beneath his bravado. “Lysander,” he whispered, voice breaking slightly.
Lys held him tightly. “Hey! It’s okay. I’m here now. Everything will be all right, now.” One hand carded through Lorcan’s hair.
Lorcan lifted his head and pressed a gentle kiss to Lysander’s lips, a gesture that quickly turned heated. It felt like forever since he had tasted Lysander’s sweetness and he devoured it greedily. Every kiss was a brand of possession. “I’ll never let anyone touch you again, Lysander. The bastard is lucky to still have his balls. If they ever let him out of Azkaban, he had better pray I never find him.”
Lysander panted and whispered, “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” Lorcan growled, annoyed that Lysander could forgive so easily. Lorcan would never forgive the hell Karl Kewitt-Morton had put them through. He heaved himself back for a moment and his fingers went to the buttons on Lysander’s shirt, painstakingly unfastening each one and laying open his shirt to expose Lysander’s smooth chest. There had been a scratch, he remembered, just there. It was gone now, completely healed at St Mungo’s so that not even a scar remained, but it was seared into Lorcan’s memory. He bent down and placed a line of kisses there, providing his own manner of healing.
Lysander’s fingers tightened in his hair. “Lorcan,” he said breathily.
Lorcan sat back and unbuttoned Lysander’s sleeves one at a time before tugging them free of his brother’s arms. Lysander leaned up so that Lorcan could remove the shirt completely and toss it after the giraffe. Lorcan’s jaw tightened when he gripped Lysander’s wrists, holding them gently as he looked at them. They had healed his wrists, as well, but metal shackles left more indelible marks and it would take some time for the redness to fade.
Lorcan gently kissed one and then the other, pressing his lips to Lysander’s pulse points in mute apology for allowing it to happen in the first place. Lysander should never have been taken, not while Lorcan had breath.
Lysander watched him in bemusement. “Lorcan, I’m fine,” he said for the dozenth time.
“I’m not fine,” Lorcan replied and kissed him again. He stopped only long enough to painstakingly remove their clothing, feeling the urgency of not having touched Lysander for days, and yet refusing to rush. They had all night and he planned to make Lysander’s homecoming memorable.
When they were fully unclothed, Lorcan climbed over Lysander and began to shower him with adoration, starting with soft, slow kisses on his lips and moving on to the rest of his face, including his forehead, brows, eyelids, cheeks, and chin.
“Lorcan,” Lysander gasped when he moved on to his throat and collarbones.
“Hush,” Lorcan said, intent upon his task.
By the time Lorcan reached his brother’s knees, bypassing his hard, leaking cock altogether, Lysander was mewling and his hands were clenched in the blankets. They had been twisted in Lorcan’s hair until he had moved out of reach.
Lorcan lifted Lysander’s legs in order to reach the soft flesh where his knees bent. He licked and nibbled there and Lysander giggled and squirmed. “Stop it, Lorcan! Haha, that tickles! Quit!”
Lorcan bit down lightly and then smirked at him. Instead of releasing his legs, he pushed them higher, bending them until Lysander’s thighs touched his torso. “Hold your ankles,” Lorcan ordered softly.
Lysander’s fingers wrapped obediently around his ankles, holding his legs in place and opening wider without being asked, exposing himself completely to Lorcan’s gaze. Lorcan’s hands trailed down the backs of Lysander’s thighs and then slid over the taut curves of his buttocks.
Lorcan bent down and let his lips follow the path of his hands, kissing a line over Lysander’s skin and finally into the valley where his arsehole rested, a tiny puckered place that contained enough nerve endings to cause Lysander to quiver uncontrollably when Lorcan’s tongue lightly brushed over it...
Lysander cried out, body shaking beneath Lorcan’s hands. “Fuck, Lorcan!”
“Mmmm, no, not yet,” Lorcan replied and laved over it again, flattening his tongue and licking a long stripe from his opening and over Lysander’s testicles, all the way up the length of his cock.
Lysander made a gurgling cry and a spurt of precome shot from the tip of his cock. Lorcan fixed his gaze on his brother’s eyes and lapped it up, swirling his tongue over Lysander’s abdomen for a moment.
He shut his eyes and took the head of Lysander’s cock into his mouth and sucked, hollowing his cheeks, hoping for another taste.
“Oh Merlin! Oh Merlin, Merlin, Merlin,” Lysander chanted. Lorcan could feel him struggling not to come. Another bitter shot of liquid coated Lorcan’s tongue and he knew Lysander would lose control if he kept it up. He considered it, but then let go, earning a groan of relief—or possibly disappointment.
Lorcan smiled and moved back downward, pressing kisses along Lysander’s lovely cock, nuzzling his balls, and finally placing a wet kiss on his nether entrance again, feeling it twitch against his lips.
“Lorcan, you are a bloody demon,” Lysander said through clenched teeth. His breath rasped raggedly.
To prove Lysander’s words true, Lorcan shoved his tongue into his brother’s hole. Lysander jerked and whimpered. Lorcan tightened his grip on Lysander’s arse, spreading him even wider and holding him in place. He tongue-fucked him without mercy, jabbing his tongue in and out, pausing only to lap and suck and tease it with his mouth. Lysander babbled mindlessly, sprinkling Lorcan’s name and the word oh between sobbing breaths.
When he sensed Lysander was getting too close to orgasm, Lorcan stopped.
Lysander made a sound of wrenching disappointment. “I hate you.”
Lorcan chuckled. “You love me. And you’ll love me even more in a minute.” He looked around for his wand and located it on the floor with his clothes. Several quick Charms later and Lorcan’s aching cock pushed into Lysander.
Their groans mingled, sounding like one voice.
“Fuck, finally,” Lysander said. He let go of his ankles and gripped Lorcan’s shoulders, instead. His legs crossed over Lorcan’s back.
“Complaining?” Lorcan asked mildly and thrust sharply.
Lysander made a guttural noise and said, “No! Merlin, no. No complaints!”
“Good,” Lorcan replied and began to move, unable to hold himself back. His motions became more frantic, shoving harder and deeper as Lysander seemed to pull him inside, tugging him closer with hands and legs and sharp cries.
Lorcan pushed a hand between them and took Lysander’s cock in hand, fisting it only once before his brother screamed and threw his head back. The pressure on Lorcan’s prick increased unbearably. Lysander’s hot release splashed on his hand and Lorcan allowed his orgasm to shudder through him. He kissed Lysander as he came, claiming him in every possible way.
When he collapsed, he wasn’t sure he would be able to move again for a month. He was completely wrung out.
After what seemed forever, Lysander shifted and Lorcan rolled over, not wanting to crush him. He slung an arm over Lysander and pulled him closer, tucking Lysander’s head beneath his chin and rubbing his back.
“Lorcan?” Lysander mumbled against his chest.
“Hmmm?”
“Can I have Raffie?”
Lorcan suppressed a snort and smiled into Lysander’s soft hair. He cast about for his wand and then Accioed the fluffy toy. Lysander tucked it atop their ribs with a happy sigh and Lorcan spelled the blankets over them.
“Goodnight, Lys,” he said.
“’Night, Lor. Love you.”
“I love you, too.” Lorcan swallowed hard, tightened his grip once, and then relaxed, secure in the knowledge that Lysander was finally back where he belonged.
byaghro *It seemed like forever before they finally made it home. Between the trip to St Mungo’s to have Lysander fully checked out, healed of cuts, scrapes and bruises, and subsequent questioning by a team of Aurors, Lorcan was frustrated to the point of wanting to destroy something. Even then, the ordeal wasn’t over. Friends and family had cycled in and out throughout the afternoon and well into the evening.
Lysander basked in the attention. Lorcan sat at his bedside, close enough that a quick outreach of his hand would bring him into contact with his twin. He closely examined every person who entered the room, alert for hidden Portkeys or nefarious agendas. After he caught himself casting a quick Legilimens on his aged Aunt Bessie did he realize he was acting slightly paranoid.
“Lorcan, I’m not going anywhere,” Lysander said softly, leaning closer to him while Bessie nattered on about her aching joints and need for orthopaedic spells for her shoes.
“I know,” Lorcan replied shortly. The mad bastard that had kidnapped his twin was in Ministry custody, luckily for him before Lorcan was given the chance to see him. Apparently he had been harbouring a long-time grudge against their parents for some perceived theft of intellectual property. Their mother could not even recall the specifics behind his claim. Their father recognized the man, but he was just as perplexed as the rest of them about the strange fellow’s burning need for vengeance.
Regardless, he was to be sent to Azkaban and thereafter given deep psychological examinations. Lorcan vowed to keep tabs on the man, just in case he should ever be released from Azkaban, or less likely, to escape. Lorcan’s need for revenge had not come close to being satisfied. The bastard had taken Lysander from him. He had marked his brother’s flesh. The scars would most likely heal, according to the medi-wizard who had examined Lysander, but the psychological marks would not.
It was late when they finally arrived home. The boys had been given a pass from school, at least for a couple of days. Lysander suffered his mother’s hugs and his father’s uncharacteristic display of emotion one last time before the door shut, leaving them alone in their familiar childhood room.
Lorcan gave the door a couple of additional Locking Charms just in case their mother decided to check on them. He had no intention of being interrupted.
Lysander was seated cross-legged in the middle of his bed, cuddling his stuffed giraffe, whose spots were nearly worn away from the love Lys had bestowed on it over the years.
“Raffie! I miss you so much when I’m at school,” Lysander cooed. Lorcan felt an irrational surge of jealousy toward the toy. He stalked over to the bed, crawled onto it, and pushed Lysander flat by sprawling over him, crushing the idiotic giraffe between them for a moment before his hand curled around one fluffy leg and wrenched it free. He flung it with perhaps more force than necessary into a corner.
Lysander’s voice was disapproving. “Lorcan, be nice to Raffie.”
“No,” Lorcan said flatly. “There has been too much between us, lately, and I’ll not suffer another thing, especially an inanimate stuffed toy.” With that, he wrapped Lysander in a hard embrace and buried his face in his brother’s neck, holding him fiercely. Merlin, he had been so afraid he would never see Lysander again, even though he hadn’t really let the thought surface, he knew it had been there, lurking beneath his bravado. “Lysander,” he whispered, voice breaking slightly.
Lys held him tightly. “Hey! It’s okay. I’m here now. Everything will be all right, now.” One hand carded through Lorcan’s hair.
Lorcan lifted his head and pressed a gentle kiss to Lysander’s lips, a gesture that quickly turned heated. It felt like forever since he had tasted Lysander’s sweetness and he devoured it greedily. Every kiss was a brand of possession. “I’ll never let anyone touch you again, Lysander. The bastard is lucky to still have his balls. If they ever let him out of Azkaban, he had better pray I never find him.”
Lysander panted and whispered, “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” Lorcan growled, annoyed that Lysander could forgive so easily. Lorcan would never forgive the hell Karl Kewitt-Morton had put them through. He heaved himself back for a moment and his fingers went to the buttons on Lysander’s shirt, painstakingly unfastening each one and laying open his shirt to expose Lysander’s smooth chest. There had been a scratch, he remembered, just there. It was gone now, completely healed at St Mungo’s so that not even a scar remained, but it was seared into Lorcan’s memory. He bent down and placed a line of kisses there, providing his own manner of healing.
Lysander’s fingers tightened in his hair. “Lorcan,” he said breathily.
Lorcan sat back and unbuttoned Lysander’s sleeves one at a time before tugging them free of his brother’s arms. Lysander leaned up so that Lorcan could remove the shirt completely and toss it after the giraffe. Lorcan’s jaw tightened when he gripped Lysander’s wrists, holding them gently as he looked at them. They had healed his wrists, as well, but metal shackles left more indelible marks and it would take some time for the redness to fade.
Lorcan gently kissed one and then the other, pressing his lips to Lysander’s pulse points in mute apology for allowing it to happen in the first place. Lysander should never have been taken, not while Lorcan had breath.
Lysander watched him in bemusement. “Lorcan, I’m fine,” he said for the dozenth time.
“I’m not fine,” Lorcan replied and kissed him again. He stopped only long enough to painstakingly remove their clothing, feeling the urgency of not having touched Lysander for days, and yet refusing to rush. They had all night and he planned to make Lysander’s homecoming memorable.
When they were fully unclothed, Lorcan climbed over Lysander and began to shower him with adoration, starting with soft, slow kisses on his lips and moving on to the rest of his face, including his forehead, brows, eyelids, cheeks, and chin.
“Lorcan,” Lysander gasped when he moved on to his throat and collarbones.
“Hush,” Lorcan said, intent upon his task.
By the time Lorcan reached his brother’s knees, bypassing his hard, leaking cock altogether, Lysander was mewling and his hands were clenched in the blankets. They had been twisted in Lorcan’s hair until he had moved out of reach.
Lorcan lifted Lysander’s legs in order to reach the soft flesh where his knees bent. He licked and nibbled there and Lysander giggled and squirmed. “Stop it, Lorcan! Haha, that tickles! Quit!”
Lorcan bit down lightly and then smirked at him. Instead of releasing his legs, he pushed them higher, bending them until Lysander’s thighs touched his torso. “Hold your ankles,” Lorcan ordered softly.
Lysander’s fingers wrapped obediently around his ankles, holding his legs in place and opening wider without being asked, exposing himself completely to Lorcan’s gaze. Lorcan’s hands trailed down the backs of Lysander’s thighs and then slid over the taut curves of his buttocks.
Lorcan bent down and let his lips follow the path of his hands, kissing a line over Lysander’s skin and finally into the valley where his arsehole rested, a tiny puckered place that contained enough nerve endings to cause Lysander to quiver uncontrollably when Lorcan’s tongue lightly brushed over it...
Lysander cried out, body shaking beneath Lorcan’s hands. “Fuck, Lorcan!”
“Mmmm, no, not yet,” Lorcan replied and laved over it again, flattening his tongue and licking a long stripe from his opening and over Lysander’s testicles, all the way up the length of his cock.
Lysander made a gurgling cry and a spurt of precome shot from the tip of his cock. Lorcan fixed his gaze on his brother’s eyes and lapped it up, swirling his tongue over Lysander’s abdomen for a moment.
He shut his eyes and took the head of Lysander’s cock into his mouth and sucked, hollowing his cheeks, hoping for another taste.
“Oh Merlin! Oh Merlin, Merlin, Merlin,” Lysander chanted. Lorcan could feel him struggling not to come. Another bitter shot of liquid coated Lorcan’s tongue and he knew Lysander would lose control if he kept it up. He considered it, but then let go, earning a groan of relief—or possibly disappointment.
Lorcan smiled and moved back downward, pressing kisses along Lysander’s lovely cock, nuzzling his balls, and finally placing a wet kiss on his nether entrance again, feeling it twitch against his lips.
“Lorcan, you are a bloody demon,” Lysander said through clenched teeth. His breath rasped raggedly.
To prove Lysander’s words true, Lorcan shoved his tongue into his brother’s hole. Lysander jerked and whimpered. Lorcan tightened his grip on Lysander’s arse, spreading him even wider and holding him in place. He tongue-fucked him without mercy, jabbing his tongue in and out, pausing only to lap and suck and tease it with his mouth. Lysander babbled mindlessly, sprinkling Lorcan’s name and the word oh between sobbing breaths.
When he sensed Lysander was getting too close to orgasm, Lorcan stopped.
Lysander made a sound of wrenching disappointment. “I hate you.”
Lorcan chuckled. “You love me. And you’ll love me even more in a minute.” He looked around for his wand and located it on the floor with his clothes. Several quick Charms later and Lorcan’s aching cock pushed into Lysander.
Their groans mingled, sounding like one voice.
“Fuck, finally,” Lysander said. He let go of his ankles and gripped Lorcan’s shoulders, instead. His legs crossed over Lorcan’s back.
“Complaining?” Lorcan asked mildly and thrust sharply.
Lysander made a guttural noise and said, “No! Merlin, no. No complaints!”
“Good,” Lorcan replied and began to move, unable to hold himself back. His motions became more frantic, shoving harder and deeper as Lysander seemed to pull him inside, tugging him closer with hands and legs and sharp cries.
Lorcan pushed a hand between them and took Lysander’s cock in hand, fisting it only once before his brother screamed and threw his head back. The pressure on Lorcan’s prick increased unbearably. Lysander’s hot release splashed on his hand and Lorcan allowed his orgasm to shudder through him. He kissed Lysander as he came, claiming him in every possible way.
When he collapsed, he wasn’t sure he would be able to move again for a month. He was completely wrung out.
After what seemed forever, Lysander shifted and Lorcan rolled over, not wanting to crush him. He slung an arm over Lysander and pulled him closer, tucking Lysander’s head beneath his chin and rubbing his back.
“Lorcan?” Lysander mumbled against his chest.
“Hmmm?”
“Can I have Raffie?”
Lorcan suppressed a snort and smiled into Lysander’s soft hair. He cast about for his wand and then Accioed the fluffy toy. Lysander tucked it atop their ribs with a happy sigh and Lorcan spelled the blankets over them.
“Goodnight, Lys,” he said.
“’Night, Lor. Love you.”
“I love you, too.” Lorcan swallowed hard, tightened his grip once, and then relaxed, secure in the knowledge that Lysander was finally back where he belonged.