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unusual-raccoon · 1 year

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Wolves at the Door (Ch. 4) | by Unusual_Raccoon (JaceLuke)

@greeksorceress, @livinginafantasysposts, @bimyself06, @theartificialintellect, @angelicpraxis

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Jacaerys Velaryon, Politically Savvy Jacaerys Velaryon, Possessive Jacaerys Velaryon, Jealous Lucerys Velaryon (Son of Rhaenyra), Codependency, Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships, Dom/sub Undertones, Disturbing Themes, Breathplay, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Oral Fixation, Ball Sucking, Come Swallowing, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, Intercrural Sex, Thigh Job, Hand Jobs, Come Eating, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Emetophobia, Biting, Painplay, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Come Sharing, Snowballing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Summary: Part 4 of A Brother's Love

It is thunder and lightning, it is a storm that swallows him whole. It is his death.

Jace’s lips are upon him, resuscitating, a revival. It is love.

WC: 3K

Ao3 Link

In the days that follow Jacaerys’ hunt with Lord Stark, and what had transpired in the Godswood, Lucerys is never without his brother’s company.

Everywhere he goes, Jacaerys looms behind him, chasing after his footsteps for once. Fast upon his heels like a shadow. His shadow. Desire sticks like a knife in his belly. Red-hot want oozes from him with every breath; blood from a wound.

And Lucerys revels in the unadulterated attention; in the way he can never quite escape his brother’s reach. Nor would he wish to. He would happily climb into Jacaerys mouth, or open fist, willing prey, like an insect waiting to be crushed.

They spend nary a moment apart.

Lucerys has never felt nearly so… loved. Desired. Needed. More integral than air. Particularly when he is stirred awake to drowsy limbs and a dry mouth at all hours, occasionally the subject of roaming hands that tease and torment, though more often at the mercy of a stiff cock thrusting between raw thighs or cracked lips.

Yet, they are still princes with duties to fulfill. Lucerys pouts at this, frowning over what time Jacaerys spends indulging their host, sharing his attention. Things might be easier if they had been borne nameless creatures, belonging only to one another.

But he thinks of their mother, of her white-gold hair that tickles his cheek, and kisses pressed thrice to his temple. His guilt sits like a lump in his throat.

They were all needed, yes. Needed by their mother in this time of war. Even the Wolf of Winterfell was a necessity, an ally that could not be lost to the Greens; but he was their mother’s necessity, Lucerys reasoned, not Jace’s.

His elder brother did not need the young lord like he needed air, like he needed Luke.

He is not yours, Lucerys thinks to himself above the din of dull sparring swords clashing, not as I am. The thought conjures forth the sensation of a crushing weight upon his chest and the phantom taste of salt and bile upon his tongue.

He sits and observes the way Jacaerys moves in little more than a light-weight gambeson and leather vambraces. Training sword in hand. It makes him think of the abrasive grit of Dragonstone’s gray sands beneath his nails, tiny stones like jagged teeth digging into his shins, an aching jaw to be filled, the mocking laughter of gulls overhead - it makes him think of home.

They must return at some point. He would be glad to leave the North and it's bitter cold and bitter people. The lord Cregan Stark wasn’t an entirely pleasant man, often stoic and blunt; Lucerys wasn’t certain he had yet to see the man so much as smile. Yet, there is something about the wretched place and poor company that ushered out a side of Jacaerys that had previously lived behind boulders and closed doors and within caves.

“My lord,” A voice calls, “my prince,” it adds and Lucerys frowns as a pair of dark heads lift from the task of training. The Lord Stark had since divested a dark fur mantle and jerkin to the ground, standing in his long tunic and breeches, the considerable brawn of his shoulders and back made obvious. Lucerys swallows at the sight.

Jace stands beside their host, Luke’s mouth waters at the flex of muscle that pulls taut in his brother’s neck. The hollow of Jace’s throat glows with sweat.

Dark eyes find him where he sits like a loyal pet, pry him open like tender, ripened fruit with a single cutting look. Something to be consumed.

He meekly pulls his lower lip between protruding front teeth. Beset by shivers.

His joy is short-lived, however.

Lucerys’ nose curls as Sara provides the pair with refreshments; yet another thing he would be glad to be rid of when they returned home.

She lingers before Cregan, her figure lissome and soft when framed against her master’s thew. Lucerys wonders if he might appear so…delicate opposite his elder brother. The thought leaves his mouth dry.

“My thanks,” Jacaerys hums as he plucks a goblet from the tray. He drinks deeply. Mouth damp, glossy, sweat-slicked throat shifting. His goblet is lowered back to the polished surface of the tray.

Fingers idle over a selection of fruits and nuts.

“The pears are quite ripe, my prince,” She informs and Lucerys’ frown deepens at the thought of Jacaerys tasting her fruit.

“Is that so?”

“Hm, enjoy as many as you’d like. I fear I’ve brought too many, my lord isn’t known for his indulgences.”

Cregan’s eyes darken, mercurial. A large hand descends over Jace’s shoulder, too near for Luke’s liking, and plucks a pear from the platter. Unabashed. As if out of spite.

There is a hitch in Sara’s breathing, sudden and sharp as lord Stark raises the fruit towards his mouth. Blustery gray eyes are trained upon that of his serving girl and nothing else, nose pressed to the supple green skin of the pear as he inhales the scent of it - ripened fruit; full lashes fluttering. Lucerys’ brow dips in confusion as he catches the quirk of Jacaerys’ amused expression.

Then comes the shattering crunch of skin and flesh and the saccharine gush of juice down a bearded chin as the lord takes a bite. The sight is…obscene.

Lucerys hears it then, building low and in the base of his throat as he chews; a growl. Starved, as though he’d never known sustenance. Lucerys’ knees knock together, hard.

Wolves with too many teeth, he thinks.

Luke stares at his brother who observes the exchange with a curious curl to his lips.

Cregan swallows, the prominent point of his throat bobbing.

Jacaerys leans closer, offers the playful dig of an elbow that Luke grits his teeth at.

“How is it?” His brother asks. Lucerys chews on his lower lip.

“Ripe.” Their host replies, voice ragged. And Lucerys witnesses something more unnerving than the man’s unwavering stoicism…his smile.

Unguarded, handsome, hungry. He glimpses a flash of pointed canines and glare of silver eyes.

A pink tongue ventures beyond his lips to gather the sticky remnants of pear juice stuck to his skin.

“I thought as much,” Jacaerys remarks knowingly; a wry smile upon his lips.

Wordlessly, training swords are tended to by squires and Cregan departs with the serving girl’s pear between pointed teeth like a dog with a bone. He gathers discarded layers from the ground, a heavy fur mantle and jerkin.

“Come,” Jace calls as he stalks in Luke’s direction. The young prince leaps to his feet. Had he a tail he is certain it would be wagging.

Arrax’s playful screech is heard somewhere beyond the keep.

Lucerys departs with his elbow held in his brother’s grip, all but dragged into the keep.

“Are you hungry?” Jacaerys asks as they secrete themselves into the balmy safety of their shared lodgings. Furs drip onto the cold stone floors. His brother’s vambraces are unlaced with practiced fingers. The day is still young and they have hours yet before supper.

“Yes,” Luke huffs, cheeks red. His head is aching. His throat is dry.

“Would you like me to fetch you something?” Jace asks with buttery-soft consideration that smacks so potently of misdirection.

“No-” Lucerys exclaims instantly, frantic, eager to keep his brother’s attention to himself.

Jace’s smile widens.

“Well, what would you like?”

A padded leather vambrace slips to the floor.

Lucerys watches the strum of his brother’s callused fingers through cowhide laces, a whine stirs in his throat, blood tingles between his thighs.

He hungers, most certainly; simply not for food.

“Touch me.” Lucerys whimpers mere moments before he is thrust upon the bedding.

Goose down and oiled furs sink beneath their weight. The remaining bit of boiled leather parts from his brother’s forearm, landing above Lucerys’ head as he is made a prisoner in his brother’s arms.

A knee is pressed between clothed thighs and Luke sighs, hips finding a rhythm against it.

His eyes roll closed as Jacaerys pulls at his clothing, strips him down to bare skin and bruises.

He senses the heat of his brother’s mouth over his skin, salivating.

He envisions himself the fruit, ripe flesh to be eaten, and the flash of a jagged smile of dragon’s teeth, the glare of eyes darker than the night sky.

Bite me, the words drift into his mind.

“Where?” Jace’s voice startles him. He blinks up at his brother with foggy eyes.

He squirms under Jace’s body. A rabbit caught in a snare.

“What?” Luke pants, short of breath.

His brother’s expression is vaguely annoyed.

Luke makes an apologetic sound, runs his tongue over the cooling sweat at the hollow of Jace’s throat, tastes the salt of his skin. Feels the drooling head of his cock moisten and cling to his smallclothes.

Jace pins him back down, a finger pressed to his chest. Yet, he is smiling now and the taste in his mouth is one of victory.

“Where do you want to be bitten, brother?”

Had he said the words aloud? His ears burn with embarrassment. He licks his lips, teeth catching on healing frayed skin that he nibbles away without a thought.

My throat, Luke thinks to himself, it is instantaneous, immediate. Vermax’s teeth in Arrax’s neck; harmony. When Jacaerys’ brow raises expectantly, he knows the words have stayed in and not out.

Lucerys adjusts his weight upon his elbows, stares down at himself, at the myriad of faint bruising scattered in yellows and greens on his fair skin.

He seeks unmarked skin, points childishly at the fatty flesh that sits just above the bony jut of his pelvis.

Jace grins with dragon’s teeth.

He nuzzles at the sparse trail of hair beneath Lucerys’ navel; a coy tongue flicks into the shallow divot causing Luke to squeal. A hand pushes at Jace’s dark head, skin tightening with the rumble of his brother’s laughter. He tries to hide his own scarlet blush and mortified smile beneath a hand too small.

“Tickles” he complains as Jace’s full lips graze his skin.

A faint kiss is pressed to the sparse trail of dark hair and Lucerys gasps, cock straining stiff in his smalls.

“Ja-” The words die in his throat, like his brother’s spent young, as teeth clamp over soft flesh.

He weeps for the heat that sears into delicate tissue, ruined vessels that pool fresh blood beneath unbroken skin. The pleasurepain is numbing, it shoots to his fingers and toes.

His brother growls, tongue swirling over the mark, as though he’d never known sustenance.

Luke is dizzy, tears glide back over his temples, pool uncomfortably in his ears. The world feels muffled, liquid sloshing like rainwater in his ears as a moan dribbles between pink lips.

His body reels, the site throbbing like a second heartbeat.

His brother’s teeth dig in again, biting along his hip bone until spots dance in Luke’s vision. Clammy fingers struggle to grip oiled furs.

He can scarcely recognize the sounds that escape him.

You asked me to bite, his brother’s voice coos in his head, I'm biting.

His smalls are tugged down roughly without ceremony. Lucerys’ wet, weepy little cock springs against his bruised belly. Panic bolts through him suddenly, his thighs cross, trying to hide his manhood between them.

“Not there,” Luke blubbers, “Jace, please,” he shrieks, “not there!”

His thighs are pried apart with unfeeling hands.

Thrashing limbs go slack with a hysteric howl as he feels heat, so much heat. He awaits the pain.

A bubble of spit bloats and erupts between his lips, sweat and tears slick his face as his scrambling, useless brain discerns the pleasure that slinks through his bruised belly.

Jacaerys pulls Lucerys’ flagging manhood into his mouth with startling ease. As though he’d done it countless times before. Amidst his panic, he is irate at the thought. Jace’s tongue glides easily over the head of his cock, teasing at the tender skin of his sheathe. He groans at the sensation, feeling blood not swelling beneath purpling skin surge back to his cock.

His limp legs are rucked over his brother’s broad shoulders as Jace’s head dips further between his thighs. The odd angle makes breathing a challenge.

Warm breath and saliva soak his root, he whines, hips lifting higher, back arching to the point of pain. Yet, as he is lost within the obscene slickness of his brother’s mouth, he feels his own fleeting discomfort to be a worthy cost.

Jace’s mouth recedes with a soft, wet sound; full lips red and plump as an apple.

His brother’s aquiline nose and warm mouth nuzzle at the soft flesh of Lucerys’ thigh, lathing the pale skin with fluttering kisses as a finger winds in lazy circles around the base of his spit-slick erection, making it twitch and leak.

He claps a hand over his mouth at the sudden sting of Jacaerys’ teeth digging into his flesh. His manhood spasms as a callused finger glides over the delicate seam of his sac. His head swims as Jace’s teeth tighten their hold upon his inner thigh, warm fingers toy with his stones, rolling them gently.

A warm tongue laps at the wound, aching, before pulling him back between wet lips with ease.

Firm hands lay him supine, pry and hold his thighs apart as Jace’s dark head bobs between them. It is too much.

‘Remain still’, a knowing thumb warns, pressing on a fresh bruise, Jace’s teeth catch lightly around the crown of Lucerys’ cock, adding, ‘let me have my fun.’

His brother’s nose digs against the soft flesh of his abdomen, breaths quick and scorching against the damaged skin.

“Jace,” He hiccups, “I’m going to- Jace, I cannot-”

His brother’s cheeks dip hollow with a mind-numbing suction. His stones tense hot. Pulsing. A wet finger presses at the cleft of his rear. Rubs at the spot.

He spills with a strangled cry. Limbs curling like a corpse as he slips against the soaked linens and furs.

It is thunder and lightning, it is a storm that swallows him whole. It is his death.

Jace’s lips are upon him, resuscitating, a revival. It is love.

Lucerys croons a barely conscious sound, fingers twitching attached to motionless limbs, yearning to wrap his arms around his brother.

Jace’s tongue coaxes his mouth open, saliva and spend oozing between their lips.

Fingers pinch his whistling nose shut.

And Lucerys swallows without resistance. Opens his mouth as a show of good faith. Jace smiles and kisses him once more. He licks into his brother’s mouth for more, for anything.

He is dozing, limp upon the bed, lifeless in his brother’s absence as Jacaerys climbs from the mattress to strip away his clothing.

Where did you learn to do that, he wonders in his mind, presses fingers to his lips to keep thoughts in. He thinks of a cave and a hand in his hair pulling so hard he feared his scalp might lift with it…

His brother’s gambeson is unbuckled and thrown aside. The willowy fabric of his tunic clings to his shoulders and back. Lucerys watches with drowsy fascination as bare skin is unveiled and muscles in his brother’s back ripple beneath tawny skin.

They had bathed together when they were children, when Jace was small and Lucerys was smaller. Jacaerys had been the first to abandon the habit, stating they were much too old to share baths. Mother had agreed.

He has been pleased to revive old traditions of late.

As a child he had been so bold as to presume he knew every inch of his brother’s body. Every freckle, every spidery blue vein. Yet, as he resides against warm bedding he discerns something…different.

The shape is familiar, uniform and raised at the base of Jace’s neck. A neat circle burned into the flesh, healed and aged white against his brother’s skin, in its center is a three-headed dragon. It is their family’s coat of arms. The scale of which he has only seen on personal items, stamps and seals and…rings.

His mouth goes dry.

He thinks of a cave and a warning.

Do not speak of things you do not understand.

Angry tears prickle in his eyes.

“Jace,” He calls gently, voice hoarse.

His brother hums, head tilted, the scar warps, hidden by dark hair that spills over his nape. Yet, he cannot unsee it.

“Do you think we could go flying on the morrow?” He asks, adding, “I-I miss Arrax.”

His brother snorts. Fixes him with amber eyes.

“Is that so?” His brother asks, climbing back from the edge of the bed to settle beside Luke.

“Is he all that you miss?” His brother’s fingers tease at the dark curly fringe that sticks to the sweat on Lucerys’ forehead.

“You’ve been away from home for some time now,” Jace murmurs eventually.

“If you wanted to return-”

“No!” Luke cries, “no,” he says softer, “I want to stay.”

‘I want to stay with you’ He says wordlessly with a plush lower lip held between square front teeth.

His brother sighs something fond through his nose.

Jace’s arm settles over the dip in Lucerys’ waist. Callused fingers trace aimless patterns across his skin. Luke tucks his face beneath his brother’s chin.

“You hate it here,” Jacaerys acknowledges with a small laugh.

Lucerys drapes an arm over Jace’s shoulder, mimics the small aimless swirls applied to bare skin with his fingers.

“That’s not true,” Luke argues lazily, eyelids beginning to droop.

Fingers press on vibrant, stinging bruises, drawing a small, smiling gasp from him.

“I love the North,” He says amidst a yawn, fingers meandering over his brother’s back.

“-you’re here.” He mumbles.

Startled into hazy consciousness as he feels his brother’s lips on his - kissing him. He grins into it. Swallows the sound of Jace’s pleased growl.

“We’ll return home before long,” Jacaerys assures him.

Lucerys nods, fingers catching upon the raised shape of their family’s crest burned into his brother’s nape.

Or mayhaps not at all, he thinks spitefully, does not concern himself with keeping thoughts in or out. He only settles further into the cage of his brother’s arms - his true home.

#my writing #jaceluke #jaceluke agenda #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #jacaerys x lucerys #hotd fanfic

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