Blackfeather Woods Always

for @Damien ? :D i hope it's ok to assume they were sleeping side by side somewhere, but if not, lemme know and i can change it.

Dreams of blood had haunted Cicero ever since he had lost time. He could not separate the flashbacks, if there were any in there, from the nightmares. Everything that he dreamt of was marred in blood and all he felt when he was asleep was blood boiling rage.

Cicero awoke with a gasp and a shock around dawn in the dark forest, and he lifted his head and looked around, startled. Cicero took a deep breath and mismatched eyes glanced around to find Damien by his side. His breathing was rapid and ragged while Cicero tried to shake the rage and blood from his mind.

YAASS!

At night, Damien's eyes hardly ever closed. Sleep was a rare thing to him now as opposed to his younger self. There was just a lot inside Damien's head at the time, and clearing it out to sleep was always hard; but it always helped to sleep besides his brother. Damien got comfortable next to Cicero while he slept, and closed his eyes in a an effort to get some rest, and it was working... Until Cicero jumped awake in way earlier than Damien expected.

Damien burst awake, and turned his sleepy/surprised eyes at his brother.

"What? What is it?" muffled Damien, "Is everything okay?"

Cicero felt his heart rate calm down as his brother awoke and spoke to him, asking what was wrong. He turned his head towards Damien. Cicero longed to tell someone, but he feared that they may just think he was going crazy, and that he would be a liability to the pack. And they would be right to assume such a thing, he realised, so he held his tongue and kept the loss of days and his violent dreams to himself.

Instead Cicero arched his neck and moved his nose closer to Damien's. "Just a dream," he clarified. What with their mother's death, Cicero figured that it wouldn't be perceived as strange. A sudden desire to wash the rage off him grew in Cicero, to do things that would put him here and not in his vivid dreams, to confirm to himself that he was awake and that his dreams were not truth. Cicero licked the side of Damien's cheek, near the corner of his lips, suddenly feeling the need for affection.

'Just a Dream' said Cicero, but Damien didn't buy it. Cicero's behavior ever since they returned from their incident with Grimnir had been far from normal. Damien wouldn't say that Cicero was a normal wolf actually, but he knew his brother well enough to know there was something going on.

Damien looked deep into Cicero's eyes for a moment, but he moved, making it difficult for Damien to read him. Cicero's nose touched his, and then his tongue ran over Damien's cheek, edging his lip. Normally, Damien would have thought this was normal behavior, it happened far too many times before, but he suspicious this time. In fact, he had been suspicious since the day Cicero slaughtered the family of foxes in his den.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, frowning with concern, "Talk to me, Cero..."

Damien's whisper elicited a shiver running through Cicero's entire body. His breathing calmed a little, and he pressed his head against the side of Damien's face roughly, almost as if wanting to start a game instead of have a serious conversation. He really didn't want to talk about it, but Damien wasn't stupid. He would know, because he knew Cicero, because he loved Cicero. Would he still love Cicero when he found out that Cicero was losing his mind?

"These dreams are so real," Cicero admitted, his tone hushed, nearly whispered with his nose close to Damien's ear. It was like he got forcefed emotions that weren't really his, as though he was slowly losing parts of Cicero that were replaced with yet other parts that were completely foreign to Cicero. "Thank you for being here to prove this is the real world. I —" Abruptly the Melonii held his tongue as he realised what he was saying. It was as if every time that he admitted he was an I instead of just Cicero he lost another little part of himself, ripped from his soul and forever gone. "Cicero loves you, brother," he whispered and he gently though playfully nipped at Damien's earlobe, lust burning in his heart. The most terrifying part was that Cicero wasn't even sure who was speaking, but somehow he felt that his love for Damien was what would keep him here.

Cicero whispered in Damien's ear, making a shiver run down Damien's back. Cicero's behavior had been far from normal for way too long, and there was no way Damien wouldn't notice it. Even his voice was different, his tone, the way he expressed. It was uncharacteristic for Cicero to speak in first person, and Damien had caught him a couple times doing it now. It was like someone else spoke for him sometimes, and it both creeped, intrigued, and worried Damien.

Still warm, Cicero's breath ran over Damien's ear once again. Teeth nibbled at Damien's earlobe playfully , and Damien's eyes closed after a couple seconds. He felt so close to Cicero for that instant, at peace beside him, and his heart-rate slowed down. Paused, strong heart-beats pushed Damein's blood through his veins, and his body got warmer. He'd got the playful hints from his brother before, and frankly, Damien actually didn't want to talk about serious and deep things either. Those thoughts were better saved for later. Damien nudged his brother's face with his nose, returning the playful gesture with a frisky smile.

Cicero caught a glimpse of the smile on Damien's face, and it was enough to send a rush of adrenaline through the boy's veins. Damien nudged his face, and Cicero felt himself ground to this world; it was easier for him to feel like Cicero instead of whatever beast plagued his nightmares and had, presumably anyway, lost him those days.

Cicero nibbled the soft, fluffy fur behind Damien's ears, encouraged by his brother's gesture, and moved slowly down Damien's neck with nibbles and licks, one ear shifted backwards towards Damien to gauge for response. His love for Damien ran deep, but he longed for something more. Despite his brother's clear gesture that he wanted more too, Cicero was ever vigilant, for more didn't always mean more. He moved his muzzle down from Damien's neck to shoulders ever slowly while teeth gently teased the fur, a playful growl rumbling in his throat.

The slow heartbeat started growing quicker, and after a while of playful gestures, Damien was on the brink of tachycardia. His blood was being pumped through his veins at such a speed and with such warmth that he almost entered in a state of blind , and the soft nudges and bites slowly became rougher pushes and uninhibited kissing.

Cicero had ran down Damien's neck to his shoulder, but before he got any lower, Damien rolled him over, positioning himself on top of him to continue licking and nipping at his face with a blank mind.

Damien had never felt anything like this before. And when he realized what he was doing he stopped, opened his eyes and looked at his brother in shock and breathing heavily. That's when he moved away from his brother. He was confused, and decided it was best to leave it. Without looking again at Cicero, he turned and started walking away.

Cicero did not mind that Damien's gestures became stronger and rougher. He didn't mind the occasional jolt of pain that zipped through his body when Damien got rough. At this point, Cicero would have accepted anything — even the drawing of blood, perhaps even permanent maiming — to be close to his brother. The pain only made him feel more alive, and it brought back memories of youthful times; the bringing of joy and feeling alive through pain was not a new feeling to Cicero. This was how it had always been. That it was Damien, well, that was only a plus.

Desire overtook Cicero in the moment, and he wanted nothing more than Damien. He did not care whatever way they did it, whatever side he was on. He just knew that he wanted it — that he wanted Damien — more than he had ever before. When he was rolled over by Damien, Cicero resisted, though only for the sake of the game; and anyway, resistance was futile when Damien used his weight to get what he wanted. A low playful growl rumbled in his throat while Cicero nipped at Damien's nose, or gingerly touched his tongue to his brother's lips, whenever Damien came closer to do the same to Cicero.

Just as Cicero intended to try and roll over to show Damien his intentions, there was a weird look on Damien's face. Cicero wondered if he was ashamed, or if he feared Cicero might think poorly of him if he were to go any further, or if he were to hurt Cicero in this rough game of love. But Cicero would never think poorly of Damien, especially not for being who he is. Damien's departure followed soon after. "Damien, wait," Cicero said levelly as he rolled onto his side and back onto his feet. He watched as his brother vanished, and even though every part of his body longed for the culmination of their love, and every part of his mind wished to feel again so that he would feel more like Cicero and less like the nameless shadow that haunted him, Cicero decided to leave his brother his space.

The mirthless jester was left standing there as he stared into the shadows in which Damien had vanished, longing for both Damien's agression and love, wanting for the physical proof of how Cicero's heart beat for Damien, and always would.