Blackfeather Woods thinking out loud

The desire that rested in Cicero's mind and body both did not seem to catch any rest at all; it remained ever present, even when Cicero did not see Damien much — not like that one night, anyway. It kept replaying in Cicero's mind, an he found that he wanted more of it. He was a patient wolf, and had given Damien however much space he needed to process what he felt and thought. However, Cicero felt he could also help his brother with what he was going through.

And so Cicero set out to look for @Damien that dark day, with a shimmer of fog coating the Woods' floor to create a mystical effect that day. Nose to the ground, the Scout started his search for his brother, hoping to find him soon.

'ere we go!

It wasn't unintentionally that Damien had been avoiding his brother for the past few weeks. Guilt wasn't a word that existed in Damien's vocabulary, but what he felt after that night when things went weird with Cicero was close enough to make Damien anxious around his brother.

Damien, now one year old and a fully developed adult, had never experienced lust in his life. Sexual desire wasn't something that clouded Damien's mind like it did others his age, and so far he felt comfortable with it. He didn't feel like he was missing anything. Until he tasted what feeling close to someone was the other night. Damien had gone through a lot in just one year; he'd experienced great loss and pain, and his constant seek for strength did not allow him to show just how vulnerable he felt. But Cicero had always been good at bringing out the real Damien; the Damien that feels and suffers, and also the Damien that loves deeply.

With a sigh, Damien dropped o the ground after a long day of tiring work. The fog and ominous feeling in the forest made it hard for Damien to snap out of his brooding state, and the only thing in the male's mind was the way his body felt those short seconds when his tongue ran over Cicero's chest. The warmth, the chill through his spine. He did not know what it meant or what it made him feel, but one thing he was sure of, he did not like liking it.

It did not take long for Cicero to pick up Damien's scent. A shot of adrenaline gushed through his veins when he first found the trail, and he was quick to follow it. Lust had engulfed him as of late, even though Cicero had never been a boy focussed on sexual interaction at all. But it was different with Damien, for Cicero had never loved anyone as deeply as he did his brother. He could not imagine anyone more worthy to stand by his side as lover than Damien. As a matter of fact, the philosopher could not imagine anyone at all to stand by his side but his brother. Theirs was a fated kind of love.

When he found Damien, Cicero could not make out whether he was asleep or just sulking, as he tended to do — as he no doubt had been doing much ever since those fated moments that their love had come closer than ever before to being consumated. Cicero knew Damien too well to fool himself into thinking that maybe there were different reasons that Damien had not been there to sleep by Cicero's side as of late. Cicero's grip on reality had tightened as of late (though he had all but forgotten the days that were missing from his memory and life, he did not fear repeat or the loss of his mind as much as right after), despite the absence of his brother's physical form.

There was a mostly stoic expression on Cicero's face, bar a warmth and longing in his mismatched eyes. The lanky yearling waited not far from where Damien was laying. Though he did not think that words were particularly the weapon of choice to use against his brother's senseless emotions, Cicero had no other presently; to touch Damien right now might elicit the wrong sort of response, and while Cicero was particularly partial to pain, he did not think it would be good for Damien's emotional health. "Love is never wrong, brother." The words were spoken aloud, a tone of sympathy in them, as if he felt sorry for Damien for ever even thinking such a thing. Cicero looked calmly at his brother, although for the first time he could remember, his insides were a raging mess of ugly knots dripping with nervousness.

Damien had succeeded for a second to induce a state of peace of mind after resting his head on his paws. He wouldn't call it meditation, but every now and then, clearing his mind from all thoughts was very useful and helped him cope with all the pain and emotional overload he'd been through the last couple months. Breathing in. Holding. Breathing out. It was almost impossible for Damien to forget about the rest of the world, but for those short seconds, focusing on his breath was what kept him from breaking down. Until the silence was broken.

Cicero's voice sent an electric shot through Damien's spine, making him jump awake. It was awkward finally looking at his brother after avoiding him for so long, and it could probably be felt in the air. Damien looked at Cicero in panic for a moment before retaking composure and looking away. For a moment, Damien was confused about his brother's words. He agreed with the fact that love could never be wrong, but he couldn't avoid thinking Cicero was confessing a love for him other that brotherly, which made the young male uncomfortable. He wasn't sure he could return that kind of feeling to his own litter-mate, if it was the case, and the fact that they almost engaged sexually just made everything more awkward and confusing.

Damien had had a lot of time to think about what happened, and the only explanation he had was that Damien was not himself the moment things went weird. Damien had never even considered touching his brother that way, and when it happened it hadn't been planned, it just happened.

"I agree," woofed Damien, finally having gathered enough courage to speak, "we're brothers no matter what, and we will always have that." Damien's voice was distant and his words calculated. He was trying to talk as if nothing had happened, and it was easier for Damien to pretend things were perfectly normal than facing the facts and the possibility of losing his relationship with Cicero.

It was hard to tell whether Damien was ashamed of his own feelings and tried to hide them, or if he was afraid of the intensity and power of Cicero's feelings. The depths of Cicero's love for his brother were unending, and he stood in uncertainty, not sure what course of action to take. Regardless of the reasons behind Damien's words and uncomfortable feelings, Cicero knew that being frank and blunt could either break the ice or chase Damien further from his embrace.

covering words in candy floss and rainbows had never been Cicero's style, although often when he found that he had the choice between hard words or dishonest words, he would choose no words at all. His bottom lip quavered as he hesitated on what to say next. It was perhaps why he had never chosen to discuss his love for Damien with Damien. Love was a feeling stronger than words. Words might only bring up resistance, while Damien's physical reaction had showed Cicero what was in his heart.

The middle way seemed to be Cicero's weapon of choice in any situation. No words, or, in this case, questions instead of declarations of truthful love. "Why would we not have that?" Cicero asked, his ears twitching when he said the word 'we'. He took a few steps closer, ears folding against his skull as he lowered his head and looked up at Damien. "Why is there doubt in Damien's heart?" That was perhaps the more important question, but all the same it was a question that made the conversation thread the dangerous rope that could easily snap and pull Cicero under.

It seemed that Cicero was not going to allow Damien to deflect the true reason behind the conversation. There was a lot of confusion in Damien's head, and it seemed to him that Cicero was in the same position. Except he was wrong. Cicero knew exactly what he felt for Damien, and he was dying to say it out loud, but so far that was something that could throw their relationship further out of balance. It would be a dangerous move.

Cicero moved closer to Damien, which made his heart rate speed up. He took one step back, fearful of what might happen if he touched his brother again.

"There is no doubt in my heart, Cicero," he said sharply, almost exasperated, "You are my brother, and my best friend. That will never change." he finished, as an attempt to shut down any chance to continue the discussion.

Damien took a step backward, and Cicero halted, though mismatched eyes still sought out Damien's, gaze piercing as though he was looking straight into his brother's soul. Nobody had ever taught Cicero that it was wrong to love one's brother the fierce way that he did — Burke had only ever said some wolves might disapprove, but what did Cicero care for some wolves? — and he wished that Damien could let go on his own inhibitions the way Cicero had a long time ago. Hiding was for the weak, but then, maybe Damien was weaker than Cicero liked to admit.

A wicked smile fell across Cicero's face, playful at heart, as he kept his eyes focussed on his brother's and said: "What is this? The mighty Damien is fearful of coming closer to a scrawny mutt?" He lowered his front to the ground in a playful bow. "Afraid to lose a spar?" Cicero knew Damien was not, of course, but he knew that he could not trigger his brother to realise what was right through words. They would fall to deaf ears — perhaps more physical acts that would make Damien feel in his heart what was right would serve their purpose better.

Damien didn't know how his brother had managed to get rid of his inhibitions, but for someone like Damien, who felt every eye around him was watchful and judgmental of his every move it was difficult not to want to live up to the expectations. He hadn't realized this, but Damien was fearful of what others would say about him getting into something with his own brother. For starters they both came from the same womb, and Damien had never heard of such a relationship. And on top of that Cicero was a male, and Damien was very confused about everything.

When he took the step back, he was expecting Cicero to stop trying to get closer to him and perhaps go away and leave him alone to think, but he hadn't put a lot of effort into that plan. Cicero was unpredictable, mysterious... It was hard not to get hooked by his hypnotic eyes... But that's not what we're talking about... Damien was confused about Cicero's reaction. His head tilted to the left and his ears folded back. Fearful? What was he smiling about? Then the tides turned quickly and the anxious Damien quickly became defensive, "What? What are you talk-" and then Cicero challenged him, and Damien's defense became slightly agressive, "Of course I'm not!" he barked as his face slowly turned into a furiously confused mess.

Of course Damien was quick to take the bait, to snap, to feel the desire to prove himself. The confusion on his brother's face was a little endearing to Cicero — to watch him suffer a little, in the most innocent of ways — and his smile widened, showing unusually much expression on his face.

There were many responses that he could pick, but rather than make it clearer to Damien that he was inducing play, Cicero went his most favoured way; the mysterious one. "Prove it," he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and a low, playful growl rumbled in Cicero's throat while he batted the ground in front of him, taunting Damien and hoping he'd join for play or spar or whatever he preferred.

Cicero was a mad genius. In a matter of seconds he had turned the situation around, and now everything was in his favor. Damien followed the lead, ignoring that Cicero was playing games with his mind, and suddenly he was up on his feet and in a fighting position. Damien never stood down in a challenge, he was proud of his physical superiority... But damn, he dumb!

The last time Damien touched Cicero things had quickly turned from PG to R pretty quickly, and the rest was history. What would happen this time?

— "Prove it" teased Cicero, a devilish gleam sparkling in his eyes, and suddenly Damien wasn't trying to stay away from his brother. He pounced, leaving his inhibitions behind.

The trap snapped shut, and Cicero could not deny that it gave him some sort of fulfilment to know that he could manipulate Damien and bend him so easily. The surprise seeped from Damien's expression and made way for the arrogant determination that struck a chord in Cicero.

As his brother pounced for him, Cicero jumped to the side. His trick had perhaps been with the intent to speak to Damien's deeper instincts — to what was in his heart — and Cicero longed for their eventual collision, but he wasn't going to make it easy. The trick to a good ruse was believability. Besides, Cicero could not deny he enjoyed games of all sorts.

After jumping to the side, Cicero spinned around to try and nip at Damien's tail teasingly, as though to prove his brother couldn't win the spar from him.

Cicero dodged, and Damien's jaws closed on thin air. His immediate reaction was to turn after Cicero's tail, but his lighter brother had always been quicker. Damien lunged for Cicero once more, this time trying to foresee how he would attempt to dodge again. He chose to take a wider range and opened his paws to leave little space for his brother to slip away. Oh he was trying so hard, and was so determined to subdue his brother and show him who was boss that he seemed to be forgetting what had happened to him the last time they did the exact same thing. But that was working for Cicero, and without inhibitions Damien had even started enjoying the game. He had always loved playing with Cicero.

The anticipation of something great was perhaps even better than actually getting there in the end. This moment once more proved that fact to Cicero, he realised while he danced with Damien and nipped at his tail.

Perhaps it was because he was genuinely too slow, or perhaps it was because he intentionally lost his footing; Cicero felt his feet slip from underneath him as Damien's next attack was more fruitful than the first. He awaited was what was to come, welcoming the pain of his head thudding to the ground and his brother's teeth at his nape.

Cicero fell under Damien's weight, and once again they found themselves in the same position in which everything had started. With his brother beneath him, Damien placed both his paws on either side of Cicero's head. Once again his blood was pumping harder, and his mind was blank for the moment his eyes met Cicero's.

The closeness Damien felt to Cicero was unlike anything else. In part, it felt like Damien's connection with his mother, sister, and even his long-lost father still lived through his brother, and all converged in both his eyes making it hard for him not to love them more. But Damien did not have a concept of love other than what he knew he felt for his family, and it was proving to be hard for him set his feelings apart from his desires.

Damien did not attack Cicero again, because suddenly they weren't sparing anymore. The dark boy leaned in slowly. He'd realized what he was doing now, but still wanted to know whether what he'd felt that night were real. Damien licked his brother's lips and felt a cold chill running down his spine. But this time he didn't pull pack.

The expected sting of pain did not come after Cicero's head had hit the ground. He has expected Damien to manifest his anger upon his brother now, and Cicero had not even minded knowing that when he issued the challenge. However, instead he felt the ginger roughness of Damien's tongue across his lips, which stirred something deep inside of Cicero.

Cicero's tongue rolled out to lick Damien's chin and lips, his head lifted from the ground slightly. Cicero reached out his paws to try and wrap them around Damien's neck and pull him closer.

Even after allowing his brother to pull him closer, Damien couldn't understand the feelings and emotions he was going through. But the longer he kissed Cicero, the cleared it became that his desire for closeness to him was not sexual.

Sexual desire and encounter was something Damien had never experienced before, or even thought about. Although he was at the age at which most males left their birthpack to branch off and build a family with a young and beautiful female, Damien had never even considered the option. He felt a sense of belonging to Blackfeather Woods, and felt that his duty, his destiny, was to one day take the place his mother once held. But he couldn't do that without the help of his siblings. Both Cicero and Potema had the same birthright as Damien to carry on with their mother's legacy, and it would never make sense for one of them to get there without the others. Cicero was right in something; they were meant for each other, the three of them, but not as lovers.

"Stop," barked Damien as he pulled away from Cicero's embrace. "I can't do this," he confessed looking away, confused and afraid. "I love you brother, but not like this." This time Damien didn't run away. He stayed, sitting next to Cicero hoping that this time they could figure out what to do. Together.

The tingling sensation in Cicero's stomach stopped abruptly and made place for something similar, and yet so very different. It was like a stone had been dropped in his stomach, the butterflies crushed. But Cicero was not one for giving up, because he knew that this was right. This was destiny.

As Damien got off him and sat down beside him, not fleeing this time, Cicero scrambled to his feet. He shook his fur and looked at Damien, duo-toned eyes searching for his brother's. Why? Because Cicero had an inkling that Damien's doubt was in the same place as he had indicated earlier, if not verbally; doubt, fear of not doing good by others... Reasons that seemed pettiful and meaningless in the greater scheme of things.

"Why" such a simple word, but had such complexity in what it demanded. Damien wasn't good at dealing with feelings, and even worse at communicating them to others, but this time it was clear to him that what Cicero felt for him was not reciprocated.

Damien stayed silent for a moment, organizing his thoughts the best way he could, and trying to pick the words he wanted to use like Cicero would do for once. The last thing he wanted was to push his brother away again, and hurting his feelings was not in the cards. Cicero was special for Damien because he was the one thing left he had, and losing him too would destroy him.

“Why?” the dark boy repeated, and then raised his head to look straight at Cicero’s eyes again, starting to get frustrated. “You tell me why,” Damien demanded, doing a poor job at picking his words and quickening into anger, but realizing that he hadn’t yet listened to Cicero’s own reasons. If he was so determined to hook up with his own brother, he ought to have very clear thoughts about it.

“Why are you so determined to do this to me, Cicero?”

Damien did not answer; probably because his reasons were pettiful and weak and he knew it. Cicero did not understand why he made things so difficult; perhaps because to Cicero, feeling adoration and lust for his brother was like breathing air. It wasn't something he could stop doing. It was as logical as the earth turning and the sun melting into the moon at dawn and dusk.

Why. It was perhaps the one answer that Cicero could not eloquently answer, for his feelings for Damien we natural and logical. He had never felt any different about them, and while he understood Damien to be confused Cicero still imagined that he must feel the same at least to some degree. He had reciprocated the feelings, after all. Twice.

There was a long silence as Cicero merely returned the stare that Damien gave, melting in his brother's eyes. Anger, frustration; but even more than that confusion, fear. "Damien has felt it. It was in his eyes. Why is difficult to explain when every fragment of being with you is like..." A thoughtful look overcame Cicero's face while he picked a metaphor. "Like the thrill of life passing by your teeth. Like feeling the blood of your enemies seep along your tongue. It is like the rush of fueled rage and at the same time, like the most peaceful moment there ever was. Like sitting by a stream on a sunny day without a care in the world, just happy to be." Cicero did not hold the pretense that Damien would care about words. He wasn't a wolf of words. He was a wolf of anger, actions, determination. Cicero liked that about him. But words were unfortunately Cicero's only weapon of choice, and so he had to try.

"And more than any of that, it is because our love is as natural as the air we breathe. You have felt it too, I -- Cicero saw it in your eyes." Cicero's face remained cool all the while, little of the in depth emotions that he described visible on his stoic expression. He longed for the return of his brother by his side, and he knew that Damien had felt exactly what Cicero had described.

Now all that remained was for Damien to answer the question.

Why?

sorry this post might seem a bit all over the place...
I'm kinda half/asleep and wanted to reply before leaving :s

Damien could not deny to himself that his brother's electric touch gave him a rush of adrenaline, of emotion. He couldn't explain why, he had no idea why, but that didn't mean that he was deeply or madly in love with his own brother. It didn't mean that they would leave everything behind and run away to live happily ever after. There wasn't such an option. As the oldest child, the big brother, Damien had a certain sense of responsibility, and high expectations that he wanted to live up to, and getting romantically or sexually involved with his own brother was simply not in the cards. But all of those thoughts were quickly replaced when Cicero nearly slipped up.

"I"

It was hard to ignore that Cicero had been acting weird for a while. The way he spoke, the nightmares, the awakenings in the middle of the night, and specially times he'd left Damien wondering where the hell he was. It was easy ignoring these things considering that Cicero was no ordinary, secretive and reserved, and being used to his spontaneity; but Cicero had never, since birth, been an erratic wolf. Damien couldn't avoid feeling that, at times, he wasn't speaking to his own brother, that there was someone else pulling the strings rather than Cicero himself.

The way Cicero spoke of his feelings while still looking as cold as an iceberg was unnerving. His eyes expressed no life, no warmth, but his words had just transmitted so many emotions, and with such passion that it was even poetic. Damien was left with even more things to think about, and for a few seconds his mind exploded and was clouded with thoughts. But there was one that stood out from the rest...

"Who are you?"

No satisfying response came, of course. Damien just looked at him. Had Cicero known of his thoughts perhaps he had laughed at their depths. As if decisions needed to be made right now. As if it was a simple yes or no. It was never simple when love as deep as theirs was involved. Cicero was determined to show Damien it did not need to be hard. If you pretended something was normal, then everyone around you would see it as a normal thing, and before you knew, it was normal. Perhaps others needed to get used to this. Cicero did not mind, for he knew if he applied his mind, soon all would accept their relations. And even if they did not and Damien wished to keep things a secret, Cicero would accept that and live with that.

But this, this was not an answer. Cicero let out a warning growl when Damien asked him who he was, for he felt almost insulted that his brother would think him not himself in this moment. Perhaps the rush of feelings and the aggression in his nightmares caused Cicero doubt at times, but this moment, the way he spoke with passion and metaphors... Sheogorath could only hope to grasp this finesse some day.

"Cicero Melonii," he said dryly. "Think of this, Damien. We shape the world and create what is normal by doing it with no shame and so living on the opinions of others. Things are not a simple yes or no. Love is never easy, it needs to be fought for. "

Cicero moved closer to Damien, if he would let his brother, and whispered softly in his ear while he nibbled his brother's earlobe: "Always." He then moved past Damien and into the forest's embrace, assuming his brother would not speak again or so him somehow, to leave his brother to his thoughts and decisions.

Mind games had always been Cicero's thing. Damien wasn't impressionable, but he could not ignore how sure Cicero was about the things he was saying. For a moment, Damien felt nervous, he was talking to someone he'd known his whole life, but the way he spoke, the things he said, were like a whole thing Damien had never known of his own brother.

Damien's life lately had been a spiral of loss and pain, and Cicero represented a lot more than a brother to him. Cicero was the last thing Damien really had to hold on to and not fall in darkness, for it would be his doom. Damien would not come back from a breakdown if he allowed it to happen at this point, and that was why he couldn't afford to lose his brother.

As Cicero approached, Damien took a step back, but didn't stop him from reaching his ear. His hot breath gave him chills, and his ears fell back awkwardly. He hated not feeling in control of the conversation, but mostly, he haten not being in control of his relationship with Cicero, of his feelings.

Damien was left alone with a lot to think about, but his encounter with Cicero had been far from satisfying. They had solved nothing, and Damien was left with more doubts than answers. This was why he'd chosen to keep his distance from Cicero lately... It was just easier.