faderift | (no subject)

(no subject)

WHO: Cyril Ashara and Merrick Ashara
WHAT: Cyril has been avoiding Merrick, Merrick confronts him about it.
WHEN: The start of this month.
WHERE: Their room.
NOTES: Merrick and Cyril are not blood related but they do still consider each other brothers. If you've played with them though, you probably realize there are some, um, tensions between them. This post is them finally talking about it, which means that some of the stuff here can seem a bit incestuous. Please don't read if that upsets you!

Cyril had been spending more and more time away from their room, it was starting to feel less and less like home. He had started by trying to make the break carefully, like Zevran had suggested, but then he had noticed how testy Merrick had been with him lately and it hurt. He could only think that Zevran talking to Merrick had made Merrick realize how messed up Cyril's feelings were for him, and the thought that had lead to anger had driven Cyril even further away.

He thought that what was best, even if it left his chest aching and empty. At least he had plenty of distractions here, and being closer to his lovers and friends was never a bad thing. He had places to be when he was away from this room. It just made him sad to be away from it for so long.

When he came by this morning he had spent a bit of time lying on the bed, just taking in the sights and smells that belonged to Merrick, before finally getting up to pack some of his belongings. He planned to get few things to last him a couple nights.

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Cyril feels like one of his traps have closed around his heart. There's a weird tightness in his throat.

"Fine," he says after a moment, because he always eventually gives into Merrick's desires. "Zevran told you. About how I feel about you. And ever since then you've been treating me differently. And I get it. I get why that would be weird for you. I just wanted to give you some space so you don't have to feel weird anymore."

The words tumbled out before he could second guess them. Saying them didn't make him feel relieved or better. He just felt miserable.

Merrick is quite blindsided by Cyril's words. He squints at his brother as they settle in, and then he can't help but let out a humorless laugh and shake his head.

"You must really think I'm a complete idiot," he responds.

The sound just sounds like Merrick is making fun of him, and he tightens his hand around his bag and locks his jaw.

"No," he says. Despite how hurt he feels, he can't bring himself to stop reassuring Merrick. "I would never think that of you."

"You must," Merrick insists. "If you think Zevran of all people is the one who made me aware of this. As if I'd never noticed before, like I've just been in the dark."

He's standing way closer now. It just doesn't feel right, talking at his brother from across the room. It's frankly hilarious how he thought for even a second that he could avoid Cyril.

Cyril's eyes narrowed a bit as he looked back at Merrick. This time when Merrick came forward he didn't step back. "It's never been talked about," he pointed out. "No one has ever brought the fact that I betrayed you that way out into the open. It changes everything."

Zevran had been stunned to hear Cyril describe these feelings that way, but it still felt like that to him. Like he was betraying the trust that Merrick had placed in him.

"Betrayed me?"

Merrick lets out another short, incredulous laugh. "What nonsense are you spewing now?"

"Merrick, when these feelings started to develop you were a child and I should have been there for you for your sake, not because I had this sick infatuation with you." Saying this all aloud, admitting to it, Cyril feels as if he's falling into little pieces. There's a stinging in the corner of his eyes that he doesn't quite understand.

"I'm older. I should have stopped it."

Creators. Cyril has this all wrong. Frustration builds within Merrick, the majority of which is directed at himself for never sensing this turmoil that his brother has been feeling for so long.

He just stands there very close to his brother, pulse pounding and emotions raw, tired of wrangling with words.

"I was wrong then. You're the idiot."

There's a little noise that escapes Cyril, something like a laugh or a sob. "That's what I've been saying," he says. "You aren't stupid. I am. This is all my fault."

He hates himself even more for noticing how close Merrick is, for still feeling that tinge of longing even as he bares these sins out in the open.

Merrick is frustrated, but he also feels strangely grounded, as if all the wild uncertainty he usually feels has abandoned him and he is right where he needs to be in this moment.

His hands cup either side of Cyril's face.

"Look at me."

Cyril feels the breath stall in his chest as he looks up at Merrick. Everything in him is frozen by the touch of Merrick's hands on his face, even the pain and shame seems to evaporate in that moment.

He looks at Merrick, and it's easier to tell the stinging in his eyes are tears he hasn't shed. He doesn't speak, too stunned by the touch to do more than stand there.

It really isn't clear what's pushing Merrick right now. Maybe it's the heartbreak he still feels from Metaari's words, raw in his chest and aching-- or maybe it's the residual turmoil he still experiences from what happened with Cade, the stark reality that he doesn't belong here, and the sense of completeness that roots him to the spot opposite Cyril. Or maybe it's the sensation of wings spreading wide in his heart, the wild swoop from jumping off a cliff, the sort of inevitability one feels when the leap is taken and there's nothing to do but accept.

He leans down just the few inches needed to press the words he can't say into Cyril's mouth.

Cyril is stunned at first. He drops his bag and puts an arm around Merrick, half thinking he'll push him away. Instead, the arm settles there and presses their bodies closer. There's a soft, surprised little noise that escapes him before he opens himself to the kiss. His eyes close and he accepts it, lets himself have this moment of tasting Merrick, of feeling them pressed up against each other.

For that moment, he forgets all of the ache and shame he had been experiencing. Everything just feels right.

Merrick cradles Cyril's face in his hands like something precious, something that must be clutched desperately lest it be stolen away. His mouth opens and he kisses Cyril passionately, a steady crescendo until the world melts away and he just gives himself.

He presses in, taking every inch that is given to him. Even this close, it doesn't seem like enough.

Edited 2016-05-13 05:55 (UTC)

Cyril opens his mouth to the kiss, letting Merrick in easily now that they have started. It wasn't the first time they had kissed, but that time had been so long ago, almost a lifetime ago. It had been when he was inexperienced and young, fumbling a bit just to express a fraction of the love that he felt for the elf before him.

Now, he's more practiced, knows how to drive other men wild, but with Merrick he feels like that same confused teenager, just grasping for some kind of connection to this world as he felt lost in the motion of their bodies together.

He wants to pretend this is that innocent, like he doesn't want more from Merrick, but he does, and it's that drive and desire that eventually forces him to pull back. His hand stays on Merrick's arm, his face stays very close, but he has to push his mouth away to break the kiss.

"We-," he breathes out. "We shouldn't be doing this..."

For a second Merrick's lips stay parted, eyes still half-closed as he looks completely desperate for another kiss. He bites down hard on his lip instead, and lets out a frustrated groan as his head falls to the crook of Cyril's neck, hands encircling the other elf's waist.

"I know," he mumbles, but his lips are starting to drag over Cyril's neck now. "We shouldn't..."

Cyril tilts his head back, exposing his neck more and hums in pleasure as Merrick starts to exploit the skin there. Even more than that, though, is the way that he holds onto Cyril and how perfect that feels.

"We..." he starts, but he can't finish, and doesn't want to. This feels like everything he's ever wanted. He moves his head to encourage Merrick to look at him and then presses another heated kiss against his lips.

The second kiss, harder and more certain than the first had been, just stokes the fire that has ignited within Merrick. He crushes his lips against Cyril's, and moves his hands to the backs of his brother's thighs to grab them and lift him up.

He holds him like that briefly, unwilling to part their lips for more than a fraction of a second lest this moment be stolen away. He doesn't even look where he's going, just moving forward until his knees hit the side of the bed and he can tip them over onto it.

Cyril grips onto Merrick as they move, but he's so caught up in how wonderful it feels to taste Merrick and open his mouth to him that he doesn't realize they're going to the bed until he feels Merrick tip them both onto it.

He pulls back from the kiss then to adjust his body and places a hand on Merrick's cheek. "What are we doing?" he asks, because his body wants one thing so desperately, but there's a part of him that keeps screaming at him to stop.

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