Chapter Text
The rhythmic chuffing sound of the steam locomotive filled the deadly silence of the evening landscape as the heavy carriages of the passenger train were pulled along. Thick smoke would rise from the chimney and engulfed everything in the immediate vicinity of the railway.
Eren's favourite part was the train whistle, a strident sound distinguishable even from a far distance. It would always make him sit straight on his well-cushioned seat, the signs of boredom vanishing from his eyes for a moment.
"Choo-choo!" He imitated the blaring sound.
And when it was over, he would return to kicking his feet in the narrow space of their first class cabin. Most of the journey was boring but it was nothing compared to the long hours in a horse carriage or the wooden seats of the third class cars. So he did not utter a single word of complaint in the comfortable and well-lit cabin he shared with Levi.
Besides, he still revelled in the high feeling of his success at the opera house. Sometimes he would close his eyes to rekindle the stage, the audience, the singing. The first class singing, he ought to remind himself, because he was truly fortunate to have been given a chance to perform with such a renowned opera company. He hoped that he would someday meet them again.
"All you've been doing tonight is make train sounds and sigh," said Levi with raised eyebrows.
Eren looked up from fiddling with the buttons of his waistcoat. "I don't have anything better to do. You refuse to be good company. Some gentleman you are, my lord."
"It's Your Serene Highness," the elder brother corrected with a haughty drawl. "And if you wish to be tortured by my poor skills in the fine art of conversation, so be it."
"This is why princesses avoid you. You bore them to death. Good thing you have a handsome brother to compensate for your unhandsome manners."
Levi snorted. "The two things aren't even related."
"Sure they are."
"Are not."
"Are too!"
They exchanged half-hearted glares before falling once again into comfortable silence, allowing the familiar noise of the steam powered B IX locomotive to replace the lack of words. It made Eren recall something he'd heard about at some point.
"Wasn't father involved in this railway business?" Eren traced the windowpane with the tip of his finger, at the same time watching Levi's vague reflection.
Levi folded the newspaper he had been reading and leant back to rest his head. "That's right. He was one of the founders of the Bavarian Eastern Railway Company. Back then when the Bavarian state refused to expand the railway any further."
"Only the South-North and West were connected, right?"
Levi nodded. "Large parts of east Bavaria were left out. The state did not have that kind of money left for a railway expansion, and since the operation was still largely unprofitable, they refused to take the risk. In order to improve business in the East, many factory owners, businessmen, and also father, invested in the founding of a railway company. They didn't want to rely on stagecoaches only, you see."
Eren hummed and tried to make out the tracks, and imagined all the work put into the construction that had made it possible for them to comfortably travel from Munich back to Regensburg. "From Nuremberg via Amberg to Regensburg, from Munich via Landshut to the Danube, from Regensburg via Straubing and Passau to the state border, from the Amberg-Regensburg line at Schwandorf to the state border at Furth near Pilsen...wow. That's insane."
"Eren...could it be that you're a bit of a railway enthusiast?" Levi clearly sounded amused by Eren's extensive knowledge.
"I admit, I used to lurk around the Frankfurt train station just to watch the trains move in and out. This is my first time boarding one, though." He glared at his brother. "Don't judge."
"I'm impressed, actually." There were no lies in his words, and if he were to be honest with himself he would have loved the sight of the boy staring at locomotives with childish bewilderment. He used to be like that too when he was young.
"Say, Eren…"
Eren hummed, acknowledging his brother.
"Don't you regret that you would never be on stage again?"
It was a strange question coming from Levi— a few weeks ago he had been so against it. Now confronted with that kind of question, Eren did not quite know how to react.
"I had lots of fun with everybody, and it was great to have your talent acknowledged. I still hear the applause." Eren stared at his dangling feet before looking up at Levi who appeared to be bothered by something. The younger took it as a sign of worry that he would prefer the opera rather than a life in Levi's household. "But I'm your little brother, and you as my only audience is more than enough! So, I won't be sad about leaving the stage behind for long. You're my family, hence my priority."
The sweet words filled Levi's heart with more and more affection for the younger, he wasn't aware he had this much room left for more. At the same time they pierced right through his conscience like daggers each time Eren would mention 'brother' or 'family'. They only served to remind him of how vile his feelings for the other were.
And yet…
A succession of rhythmic knocks startled him out of his spiralling thoughts. The door slid open; a uniformed man with neatly combed hair and a kind smile greeted them politely.
"I brought you refreshments, my lords." He placed a silver tray on top of the small table provided in their cabin before taking his leave with yet another friendly smile, tipping his hat as he retreated.
Levi eyed the tray with mild interest. There was a small basket with three kinds of bread, a plate with cheeses and smoked ham, a bowl with fruits, a decanter filled with red wine, and next to it two crystal glasses. He lifted the fruit bowl, and placed it in his lap.
"Fancy some fruit?"
Eren hummed. "I think I'd like some grapes."
Levi nodded, picked a cluster, and handed it over without looking up. When it was not immediately taken off of his hand, he turned his head with raised brows. And regretted doing so.
He was met with the sight of his brother staring at him expectantly, mouth slightly parted, asking to be fed.
For a moment he was frozen in place, knowing full well that he really ought to simply tell Eren to stop acting like a spoiled child, but also knowing that the look given to him was nowhere near childish. It was beckoning him. Levi, albeit terrified to follow, plucked a fruit absentmindedly, and raised it toward Eren's moist lips. They parted oh so slowly, grasped the round grape among their softness, and the tip of a pink tongue flicked forward, grazing Levi's fingertip, to roll the fruit into the boy's waiting mouth. All the while he held his gaze.
Spellbound, Levi continued to stare as Eren enjoyed the sweet and seedless treat, swallowing it noiselessly. He asked for more. Levi obliged without a word; by now he was too swept away by the moment to stop.
He fed him, one fruit after another. And each time he would feel Eren's lips or even tongue against him; too often and too deliberate to be waved off as mere accident. It was not the first time that he had noticed the voluptuous traits of Eren's lips, now glistening wet from the grape's juice; and it was not the first time that he had felt a pull towards them.
Keeping a distance, however, was no longer a matter of his consciousness kicking in. It had become a struggle.
Why was this child such a temptation?
A kind of impulsive anger overcame him, and he grabbed Eren's jaw, pulled him closer until he was halfway sprawled on the older brother's lap. To thoroughly regard the youthful face, he lifted Eren's head. He delighted in the way those green orbs looked upon him with an unmistakable want.
Driven by presumably the devil himself, he gently pressed another fruit against the younger brother's lips of sugar and spice. Eren's eyes were still trained on him, before he opened his mouth, not to let it be put in but to bury his teeth in the forbidden fruit straight from Levi's hand.
Time seemed to slow down the moment the tiny round thing burst in between his fingertips; clear juice seeped out and trickled down to his knuckles in little streams.
He was not granted any time to fetch a napkin to rid himself from the sticky wetness, for Eren' s tongue was on him, all smooth and hot, dragging itself from his palm to the back of his hand. At times Eren was downright lapping up the liquid from even the small spaces in between each finger.
Levi's body was on fire. His mind was reduced to the lewd, utterly inappropriate spectacle in front of him. There was no sound, just the image of Eren licking his hand with a countenance of pure delight.
Already past the point of caring, and being thoroughly encouraged by Levi's reaction, Eren stuck two trembling fingers in his mouth, and began to swirl his tongue around, and sucked.
Levi was losing his mind, and he wanted this enticer in his grasps- his soul's downfall did not seem to be too much of a price to pay.
Eren released him with an audible pop, and licked his lips. "Tastes sweet. A good harvest."
Finally, Levi got the chance to pick up a napkin to properly dry his now more wet than anything hand. He felt like he should address what had just happened but looking back up he simply found the other gazing out the window instead, feeding himself more grapes as he did so.
The topic was averted, though the tension still reigned in the cabin they occupied. And Levi knew it would follow them out of this train.
Eren discovered that St. Emmeram castle was his home.
The thought crossed his mind upon arriving at the castle's courtyard as he was encompassed by sights, scents, and sounds that he instinctively conceived as familiar, homely even. All the looming shapes and towers, months ago so threatening to the young stranger from Frankfurt, welcomed him back.
He could not wait to finally sleep in his own bed again.
The downside of finally being home was the fact that he had to resume private tutoring hours. It would have been bearable if not for the fact that Levi was trying his best to ignore the memory of Eren inappropriately licking him on board of the train from Munich. The younger had hoped he could get away with similar attempts, however Levi had steeled himself.
Eren would have stopped long ago. The thing is, he was yet to be rejected.
Levi evaded Eren's advances with great skill but the other did not fail to notice the missing words that would ultimately put a halt in his actions.
He was surprised by his own courage and persistence. Not too long ago he had sworn an oath to himself to lock the sinful feelings in a chest deep in his heart. He would treasure them, he had told himself, but they would never see the light of day. A living songbird caged in the darkest depths of his heart- and if God was merciful, it would slowly cease to sing and waste away.
But fate was cruel. Levi gave the bird hope, fed it, and kept it alive. And Eren was not a strong enough fortress to keep the songbird locked away. So he dared to think, what if the bird was meant to fly? Even though he, the fortress, would rot and decay as a direct consequence, passing his poison over to his brother until he too would lose his grace.
There is no place for me in paradise, for I am wicked. And forgive me if I take you with me.
"You're distracted."
Eren smiled at his brother in apology, his gaze lingering on him rather wistfully, and then straightened himself and focused his eyes back on the book laid out in front of him. It was the Almanach de Gotha, a yearbook reporting on Europe's royalty and upper nobility, a diplomatically relevant reference book concerning anything notable about the living monarchies, reigning or former reigning. In case you had to send obligatory letters of congratulation or condolences and did not want to fail at doing so, because it was just too easy to lose track of so many aristocratic houses.
Eren was not spared from the nightmare.
"I'm sorry, Levi. You have to admit this is extremely boring."
Levi had insisted that he should know Europe's existing reigning and former reigning dynasties by heart. The Thurn und Taxis as a princely house did no longer reign over a principality ever since it had been mediatised into the kingdom of Bavaria in 1806 during the dissolvement of the Holy Roman Empire by Napoleon Bonaparte. But it remained equal to the still reigning houses such as the royal family of Bavaria, namely the house of Wittelsbach, by birth.
"What's the deal with being equal to reigning dynasties anyway? Prestige?" Eren scratched the back of his head in frustration as he furiously took notes. He really was bad at this, and preferred the regular lessons over this genealogical mess.
Levi flipped the pages of a very thick and very old looking book. Eren could already feel a headache coming up.
"Mostly for marital purposes. It was indispensable to both reigning and mediatised dynasties that they could still royal intermarry."
Eren hummed. "Which is why your grandmother was a duchess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, the sister of Queen Luise of Prussia. So you...we are related to the royal family of Prussia." There were other examples he could think of without having to study the family tree. "Your mother was duchess in Bavaria. The dukes of Bavaria are a branch of the House of Wittelsbach, King Ludwig's family. And your mother's sister is Elisabeth. Your aunt is the Empress of Austria and Queen of Hungary?"
Soon enough, he felt his head spin. "Any other majestic relatives I should know of before I accidentally overlook a royal uncle's birthday, insulting him by not sending any birthday cards?"
His brother scoffed. "By now all European royalty is related anyway. It's not like we have an unlimited option of potential candidates in marriage. The bloodline must stay 'pure' and the power must be kept within at all cost. Of course there are the occasional cases of black sheep in the family but you get the gist."
It made sense, Eren thought. It also made him pick up on one interesting thing, especially after a time of scanning various family trees. "For that to happen, there has to be a good deal of inbreeding."
He chose to catch his brother's gaze as the words pregnant with implication were uttered. The result was instantaneous. Levi's body stiffened and his face turned just a little bit paler. It was not like Eren had uncovered a secret, because it really wasn't. However, he knew exactly what Eren was hinting at.
"It's inevitable," he managed to force out, growing more and more uncomfortable in his own skin. "Royal intermarriage is a business of power and inheritance."
Eren roamed the library for more references on royal genealogy. Sometimes he had to make use of one of the ladders just so he could get to the harder to reach sections.
"The Wittelsbach for example, they've engaged in first-cousin and uncle-niece marriages. The most recent case is again our aunt Empress Elisabeth, formerly duchess in Bavaria; she married into the House of Habsburg. But her and her husband's mothers were sisters!"
He continued with a lower voice. "Not to mention the similar unions in our bloodline."
Eventually, Levi had had enough. Slamming the heavy leather-bound book on the table, he shot his brother a hard glare, voice seething with warning. "Well, good thing siblings are off limits."
For a moment Eren was taken aback, as well as hurt and disappointed by the sharp rebuke. But his point still stood.
Carefully, he pushed the documents and books in his close proximity aside, placing his arms on the table. He let his wrist touch Levi's. Both eyed the blue lines underneath their skin. Even though Eren was more tan while Levi was pale, they both shared the same cool undertone.
Their eyes met for a fragile exchange. Eren softly smiled, and Levi could not quite tell if it was sad, yet there was no mirth either. The younger spoke the words that would follow the elder for the rest of his life.
"In one way or the other, it is accursed blood that flows in our veins."
Forty thousand words could not, in the voicelessness of Levi's feelings, explain the beauty of Eren. For even if they were bound to one another by the liquid madness of centuries, Eren possessed an all-embracing youthfulness that made Levi conclude, the boy was as much a curse as he was a blessing.
And the very essence of Eren, his body and soul, he craved to call his own and make immortal. But Levi could never reach out to follow his desire's command. Brothers were not meant to be lovers.
And so...
"Let an artist paint you."
Silence. Bemused by the odd change of subject, Eren retracted his hand and rose a curious eyebrow. "What brought this on?"
Levi only shrugged, rose from his seat, and massaged the stiffness in his neck. "A well-known French painter is visiting Germany, or so I heard."
Eren wondered who said painter was. Excitement rose in him, and already he was considering what to wear for a portrait. He had not expected a portrait painting until after the official adoption, so maybe Levi had a more familial commission in he probably shouldn't wear something too formal.
He was so caught up in the middle of agonising over his fashion options that he failed to hear Levi's instructions to self-study as he had to keep an appointment with some architect. Maybe he should wear the sailor suit again.
Levi rolled his eyes as he was being blatantly ignored, leaving the library with little mutters expressing annoyance.
Gustave Courbet was 53, an alleged revolutionist, and a hero in the world of fine arts the day he crossed the halls of St Emmeram castle.
The head of Thurn und Taxis had commissioned him for a portrait of his younger brother, and had granted him creative freedom. Either the family head was an avid supporter of free arts or he simply knew nothing about it. He was leaning towards the latter.
Though he had not come to mock the German nobleman; the French and the Germans had just fought a war after all. Good thing he was a generally welcome guest in Germany.
The castle's majordomo who had received him was leading him to what appeared to be one of the castle's many parlours. Bowing his head slightly towards the painter, the stoic man pushed the white door open, revealing a well-lit room not too large in size with tall windows, and surprisingly, barely any furnitures.
In the middle of the room stood a youngling taller than the man to his side, seemingly engaged in a hushed conversation. Their German was a blur, too fast for his French ears to understand. Though he knew that it was trivial chit chat, there was something hidden in the way they let their gaze rest upon the other, an unspoken truth. A taboo.
Courbet's first thought was that he wanted to paint that scene.
"Highness, your esteemed guest has arrived," spoke the majordomo.
Both turned to regard the painter who in return bowed in respect.
"Monsieur Courbet," greeted Levi, "Thank you for lending us your time."
"Monseigneur." Gustave Courbet took the hand offered to him, and shook it firmly. "It is my pleasure."
The Frenchman glanced past the Fürst's shoulder where the young man was eyeing him with plain-spoken curiosity. Noticing that, the master of the house stepped aside, and extended his arm.
"This is my younger brother."
"My sujet," the painter replied as he stroked his greying beard.
At last, the younger brother approached them and shook the man's hand in greeting. "We emptied the room for you, so you may make use of it as you would in your own atelier."
"How very thoughtful of you." He rarely had the pleasure of encountering patrons who understood his needs. "I would like to make first sketches of the young master today before returning tomorrow for the actual painting."
The Fürst did not appear to be very talkative, only nodding to the artist's explanation. And after Courbet had unpacked his drawing utensils, he cleared his throat. "Well, I'll leave you two then. Don't want to be a hindrance."
For the following hour Eren sat and at times stood to be sketched as a means of familiarising the painter with the noble boy's features. And the Frenchman found himself liking his new subject with a handsome face shaped by soft youthful lines and curves with little hints of the man he would become. There were also the expressive pair of eyes glinting in an abundance of allurement, and at the same time a certain lack of kind, which only served to bemuse him.
After he had created six different sketches, he presented those to the eager looking Eren.
"It's almost like a photograph. You're very talented, monsieur." Eren smiled and flipped the sheets of paper.
"You are too kind." He did not think much of a nobleman's compliment, though he was glad, at least, as it would mean less trouble for the whole process.
"Though…"
Or maybe not.
"Though?"
"Don't get me wrong, monsieur, but don't you think these look...mundane?"
Gustave Courbet was intrigued. He eyed Eren with mild interest. "Is there anything you would like to suggest, young lord?"
The experienced painter should have known, the little smile could not be the herald of something ordinary.
"Monsieur Courbet? What is your opinion on nudes?"
Eren loosened his tie.
The next day when the sun was at its peak, Levi took a stroll under the pleasantly cool shadows of foliage. He could only work for so long until his backside would start to ache. Some change of scene, a recharge of fresh air, and scents that were not ink and paper did wonders to him.
Often, the castle's garden would remind him of childhood.
A distant memory of two children chasing a dog. He was about to be scolded by his mother but he could not remember that part very well, only that the little girl's hair was catching the sunlight.
He was just a boy, his father was the Fürst, his mother was alive, and the girl's hair was long.
These days those memories were rare. Whenever he walked the pebbled paths of St Emmeram's gardens, Eren crossed his mind.
Eren studying the plants with one of his teachers. Eren reading the book his beloved friend Armin had gifted him right next to the fountain. Eren's hair catching the sunlight.
Levi pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to rid himself of any more daydreaming. It was probably to be seen as a sign to go back to work.
He rounded the corner, walking in the direction of one of the many side entrances, already thinking about the third pile of documents, when he idly turned his head, finding that he was looking through a window into the makeshift atelier. He stopped in his track.
First thing that caught his eye was of course the artist sitting by the window with his hunched back facing Levi. Aged fingers glided across the still mostly empty canvas in first imaginary strokes before placing the graphite tip on the surface of the plain-woven fabric. Curious, Levi shifted to get a glimpse of Eren.
What he got was not just a glimpse but the most of Eren he had ever seen before.
A long Roman styled chair, a chaise longue, had been moved into the atelier. On it was his brother, reclining with one arm leisurely propped at the edge of the raised headboard while the other arm lay in a resting position just above his covered groin. He was completely bare if not for the white cloth covering his bottom half. The long fabric clung to Eren's thighs, and the drapes fell in folds that gathered at the feet of the furniture.
The midday sun bathed the boy's golden skin in natural light as if to present her beloved son. And Levi took in the sight of so much naked skin, of the dips and curves just like the ancient statues of marble, though not cool and colourless, but vibrant, soft to the touch, and slightly flushed from so much life.
Eren appeared to be far off; his gaze directed at nothing in particular after a long time of posing yet he kept his horizontal position without fail.
Slowly, Levi touched the windowpane separating him and the room. The appropriate course of action was to immediately stop the painting session because the painting currently in the making was a scandal.
It was no longer the portrait of a noble son. It was Venus.
And unapologetically erotic.
Levi, though, could not move at all. He was frozen in place, and enthralled by the one person he desired the most, now bare and tearing at his resolve.
Really, he should just kick the French painter out.
Instead, he returned to stand on the same spot the next day, and drank in the image of his brother. At first he thought he could get used to it, and that indulging himself would help him get over his unorthodox infatuation. What happened was, he became addicted. His eyes hungered, his tongue felt dry, his body burnt.
On the days of secretly observing the painting process, Levi grew to know the work of art on an intimate level. As it slowly came to life one paint stroke at a time, he became more familiar with Gustave Courbet's style and thought process.
The painting showed an egalitarian surface, in which the colours were spread out across the canvas without regard to the objects or spatial depth. That way the prevalent objects were levelled in their dominance, and nothing stood above or submissive to the other. It was a very unique and new way of painting; very different from the artist's contemporary colleagues.
And so Eren was slowly captured and immortalised on a canvas.
The Fürst thought he'd had enough of voyeurism for the day. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.
In the middle of exhaling and letting his eyes blink open, he caught Eren's piercing gaze.
Maybe Levi's heart stopped. At this point he could no longer tell for sure as he was even incapable of moving, and thus frozen mid touching his hair.
But Eren did not react the same way, on the contrary. Somehow still keeping his relaxed pose, he let his gaze roam Levi's body up and down, and the elder felt naked too. The looks on him felt like caresses, and he could not help but shudder and be small under their mercy.
Levi swallowed hard, tugged his cravat loose, and shrugged his dark suit jacket off. Then disappeared from sight.
Gustave Courbet stood from his stool with a groan. The man stretched and massaged his stiff back, then grimaced at the pain caused by his abrupt movements.
"Don't tell me it's already break time for you, monsieur." Eren only allowed himself to shift slightly.
"I admire your endurance, my lord. Sitters usually complain whenever I lose myself in painting but you've barely moved, and I have to capitulate first. It's been like this for days."
Eren shrugged. "I don't like doing half hearted work."
The Frenchman laughed heartily, before shaking his head and making his way towards the door to get some much needed break. Eren was left alone in the room. He could not be bothered to lay himself in a more comfortable position. Still he was looking at the now empty spot on the other side of the window where he had caught his brother looking like a burglar.
Actually, he had noticed him earlier today, and somehow he had a feeling that it was not Levi's first time standing there looking at him, at his naked skin.
"Ah, Mr Courbet is in the small dining room this very moment, Your Highness. You won't find him there," the majordomo said. He had been on his way to inspect the kitchen staff when he spotted the Fürst standing in front of the atelier.
"Is that so?" His master asked distractedly. "Then please tell him to take his time on his break. Surely, he is exhausted."
The majordomo bowed obediently, and did not straighten himself back up until the Fürst had pushed the door to the atelier open and entered it.
Levi closed the door behind him as soundlessly as possible. Loosening the grip around the door handle, he side eyed the boy who was still reclining on the chaise longue. He then lingered there, just observing what was now laid out in front of him.
That boy, Levi was sure he had long heard him enter. And yet he made no move to stir, and chose to remain like that, flaunting his bare back at him. The curve of his spine called to be touched and traced.
Levi devoured the boy with his silver eyes, raking them all across the exposed back whilst subtly biting his lip. The white cloth draped over the hip granted him the tiniest teasing glimpse of cleft.
Eren looked so...ravishable.
The Fürst pushed himself off the door, and slowly strode to the middle of the room. The clicking of his heels reverberated in clear echoes as he drew closer.
His breathing was controlled but deep, almost as if he would dive after each intake of breath.
Right behind Eren, Levi came to a halt. He buried his right hand in the pocket of his trousers, then tilted his head in contemplation. He observed the other like one would a sculpture at an exhibition—silently and thoroughly.
The other hand reached up, at first hesitantly, to rest right there where the white fabric began. Levi battled against the temptation but he himself knew best that he was barely trying. After realising that perhaps he had thought of Eren as more than just a brother for longer than he dared to admit, that he had defiled any sacred sibling love between them, he could only feel disgust.
And yet his desire was strong.
Languidly, he let his fingertips glide past the fabric onto the exposed skin. They caressed Eren's side lovingly, longingly. Levi's mind was overflowing with thoughts of finally; and he almost let his eyes fall shut in blissful reverie.
Meanwhile, Eren was watching the hand slide up his side to his shoulder from the corners of his eyes. He had to suppress a violent shiver from being touched in such a lust inducing way.
Levi's hand rubbed across the brother's throat, then massaged the curve of his jaw. Eren could see the looming shadow grow, and the upholstery dipped under the weight of Levi's knee propping itself there.
Their heartbeats were in sync, they knew.
A slight tug led Eren to finally turn his head, and Levi tilted the boy's chin, so he had a clear view of his face. Only then did his brother look up at him with those eyes the shape of innocence and the language of seduction.
Eren found Levi already leaning above him, the other arm braced against the headboard, caging him; and his face was close, so close. Grey eyes searched him, took him apart, engulfed him fully in their power. Eren licked his lips, making them moist and ready.
He heard a short intake of breath. And then his lips were claimed by his brother, beloved brother.
Over and over again Eren had dreamt of such a kiss but it had never been this starved.
Two strong hands cupped his face, pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. Eren opened his mouth because it felt like the right thing to do, and then gasped as Levi's tongue thrust in right away. Instinctively, Eren's own tongue pushed against the other's, but oh it made his whole body tremble.
The younger brother whimpered at the tingling sensations spreading right underneath his skin. It was so overpowering that he could no longer support himself so expertly like before. His arms encircled Levi's neck as a last resort for purchase.
Their lips parted with a wet sound. Harsh breathing filled the small distance between them. Above Eren, Levi was a beautiful mess. His fringe fell in his face in disarray and clung to his brow, his eyes were dark and dangerous somehow.
Eren bit his lower lip at the sight and leant up for another kiss. But he was stopped before they could reconnect.
"Do you enjoy torturing me, Eren?" Levi growled, and his voice sounded rough and delicious. "Do not test me. Ever."
It was maddening enough to know that if he were to simply push the white cloth off, his brother would be completely exposed before him.
"I want you to kiss me. All of me." Eren sat up, and the fabric slid down to his lap.
Levi, suddenly feeling guilty, made sure to keep Eren covered. He looked pained beyond measure. The little brother's close proximity made him want to lose his mind.
"I'm your brother!" Levi had raised his voice.
Eren answered in kind, "I know!"
"Then please," pleaded the other in an almost whisper, "Understand that I do not want to lose my family."
Eren had a thought that desperately asked why they could not kiss with tongue and at the same time be brothers.
Levi hastily stood straight before he would lose control of himself yet again. He cleared his throat, and regained his impassive expression. "It's of course obvious that you can't have this kind of portrait. So make sure to tell monsieur Courbet to change it before I drop his commission."
One last longing glance at the expanse of Eren's naked skin, and he fled the room.
When Gustave Courbet returned, everything was wrong.
The pose was way off, the cloth rumpled, the expression a completely different one. He could not have that, especially since he had been working on the painted subject's face.
The boy in front of him was no longer the godly muse he had been painting.
With a sigh, the artist grabbed the canvas from the easel, and set the half finished painting aside to be abandoned.
Eren blinked and tugged the cover close to his chest.
"I can't work on this one any longer," Courbet explained. "Please allow me to start a new one."
Eren sighed, relieved. "Thank God, I didn't have to say it myself. Sure, just tell me what pose to take."
Two weeks had passed since the unspeakable incident between Eren and Levi had happened. And to Levi's surprise, Eren had not tried to bring it up again. In fact, he too appeared to be avoiding the subject altogether. Which was a relief.
Or so Levi tried to convince himself despite the empty feeling the distance between him and his brother brought, now that he had tasted Eren's lips.
The memory of the kiss made him run his thumb and tongue over his own lips, but he only tasted the bitter residue of red wine.
It made him realise that he might have been a little bit tipsy, which was odd since he was usually a moderate drinker. Yet to be fair, today's company had been awful.
Hanji Zoe had gone all the way to send out formal invitations for a dinner party at her villa, and Levi's majordomo had insistently talked to him about how declining such an invitation was rude and unbecoming of a Fürst and good friend. So attend he did.
Surprisingly, the evening had started off not too badly, what with Hanji Zoe being the hostess, and inescapably busy with keeping all the other guests occupied. And thus it had been just him and his glass of vintage, and then the occasional obligatory small talk.
Until Erwin Smith decided to breeze in, boring him with political talk no sane man could make sense of. In order to survive the night, Levi had downed his glass in one swift motion, and called for a footman to pour him some more. The rest of the evening had proceeded in kind.
Now back at his own castle, Levi could not wait to become one with his bed. The majordomo in tow kept a respectful distance, and was gracious enough to spare him from any talk about incoming work.
As usual, his fast stride slowed the moment he got close to Eren's room. It was probably too late for a goodnight visit, and he had told Eren not to wait for him. But curiously enough, he found the door slightly ajar.
"The prince is not asleep yet?"
"The prince has already had his evening wash as well as his nightly glass of hot milk. However, he had informed me that he would not yet retire for the night." The majordomo flatly replied.
Bewildered, Levi stared at the door, then raised his hand to dismiss his servant for the night. The majordomo bowed and retreated with a wish for a pleasant night. And Levi pushed the door open.
The only light source were the candles placed on top of the nightstand, and they dipped the space around the bed in warm flickering light.
Sitting on the edge of the bed was Eren, already clad in his nightgown. He was facing an easel to his front. It carried a golden framed painting the span of two outstretched arms. Eren appeared to have been transfixed by it for a long time; he did not even hear Levi enter the room.
"You never told me the painting was completed," Levi said, cutting through the silence.
Jumping slightly, Eren grabbed his chest, and darted his eyes towards the intruder. Relief washed over his face once he recognised his brother.
"That's because it's still brand new. Mr Courbet finished the painting this afternoon after adding the final touches." Levi noted the nervousness in Eren's voice.
"I can't wait to see it. I'll probably hang it in my study." Levi paced forward, curious to see the first painting under his commission.
Eren shot up and blocked his way. He looked panicked somehow. "Hanging it in your study isn't a great idea, Levi."
That made the other raise his eyebrows in question. "Don't tell me it's ugly, because I swear to God I'll make sure to tarnish that goddamned Frenchman's good name for the rest of eternity."
The threat made Eren chuckle nervously, and he turned to fidget with the hem of his sleeve. Something was definitely off, and Levi would make sure to find out what exactly.
He grabbed his brother's shoulder and shoved him out of his way, ignoring Eren's exasperated groan. Once there, he spun on his heel, and straight on stared at the painting with crossed arms.
The Fürst's eyes widened, and his arms dropped wordlessly. All breath was taken from him.
The still wet oil on canvas painting did not depict a standard portrait of his brother nor did it show a finished version of the first painting.
It was worse.
No longer did the sun shine on Eren's skin. It now glowed in pale moonshine, highlighting the figure from the otherwise dark surrounding, so that he appeared to be radiating in an eerie light.
Eren was not reclining anymore, instead he was draped over the chaise longue with his head and part of his upper body hanging down over the edge, exposing his long neck. His arms hung loosely over his shoulders, touching the ground.
Levi swallowed as he took in all the sinful details of flushed skin, of rosy buds painted on Eren's chest with a penchant for realism. His gaze traveled south across the smooth expanse of Eren's stomach, and he realised that the white cloth, now no longer thick and heavy but thin and almost translucent, was draped lower around his hips.
What drew him in, however, was Eren's face. His eyes were on the beholder, beckoning, whispering. His lips were just-bitten red, slightly parted, and they caught the light, making them look moist. As if...as if they had just been kissed.
Levi covered his mouth with the back of his hand the moment he understood. Gustave Courbet had captured the image of Eren as he had been right after they had shared the kiss.
"He named the painting La Chute. The Fall." Eren's voice sounded distant in Levi's ears. and he slumped down. The bed creaked under his weight. He was still staring at the painting.
"Why did you let him paint this? This is not what I commissioned."
Eren sat next to him. "He said that he would understand if you decided not to pay him but he could not paint me any other way. Any other way would be a lie, he said, and he does not paint lies."
Levi tilted his head slightly towards Eren but his eyes were lowered to the ground. Only his deep frown was visible. "And why did you agree to pose like that?"
"Because I wanted you to see me." Levi looked up, and their eyes met. And Levi felt the heat again, and maybe it was the alcohol, but definitely, it was the overflowing feelings threatening to break through. "I wanted you to see how you've transformed me. I wanted you to see what's under the fine silk and suits you like to dress me in."
Levi stood abruptly. Eren thought he saw the other stumble in his haste. He rounded the bed until he reached the other nightstand, and grabbed a crystal decanter filled with red wine. He poured a generous amount to Eren's unused glass, then chugged the content without much finesse.
"Am I the only one trying to save us from doing something that is utterly wrong?" Levi could not taste the wine at all. And so he poured some more.
Eren climbed the bed and crawled to the other side. He reached up to place a soothing hand around Levi's wrist.
"Am I the only one harbouring these feelings?" Eren asked.
Levi's gaze dropped to the hand touching him, then moved to regard his brother. He placed his full glass back on the nightstand. "You know exactly how I feel, Eren."
The grasp around his wrist tightened; then he felt a tug. It was not forceful but Levi let it lead him. And when he climbed Eren's bed, he did so with full awareness. Likewise the tentative caress on his brother's cheek, and the careful touch of their foreheads.
Eren's eyes searched Levi's. It was difficult to keep a focused look at such close proximity, nevertheless he did not want to miss it. His nose nuzzled the other's, and it was a loving gesture. Levi's breath carried the scent of red wine as it mingled in the barely there distance between them.
"Kiss me again," Eren said in a low whisper.
And Levi did kiss him.
A kiss filled with uncertainty and bleeding guilt.
Eren's state of mind was no different, though he was too overcome by the intoxication that was Levi's kiss.
A bit shy but willing to be bold, Eren sucked on Levi's lower lip. It had the desired effect, because he could feel the tip of the other's tongue prying his mouth open. Eren was eager to let him in. The hot tongue roaming inside, pushing against his own, really made Eren's body react. Pleasure wrecked him from head to toe that he could not help the little moan from spilling.
It was embarrassing to let out such a shameful noise, however, it only served to entice Levi even more.
"God, you're gorgeous," growled Levi between hungry kisses, and each time he would pull on Eren's hair to appraise his handiwork as the younger's expression turned ever more lost, "You don't know what you do to me. Since the beginning you've made me your jealous slave. I didn't want anybody close to you."
Eren could only listen but not say. His mind was too clouded to form proper sentences. Blindly, his hands grabbed for Levi's lapels, and pushed the pristine suit off of his broad shoulders.
Even when the ravishing mouth had wandered off to latch onto Eren's neck, shaking his body with sensation the younger found he liked even more, he never ceased to undress Levi little by little. The collar was loose and open, thus Eren wasted no time to let his hand sneak underneath.
Realising that he would soon be too distracted to take care of Levi's wardrobe, he shook the older brother off, who only parted with words of protests. He curled his fingers around the golden buttons of Levi's waistcoat, then popped them open. The garment then hung loose around the godly frame he so desired.
Next he tugged the white shirt out of Levi's trousers, as he did so he did not fail to notice the predatory eyes on him. Though any predators had to wait, for he was going to savour this; the taut skin that was revealed under so many layers of immaculate clothing. Levi chose to spread his legs that very moment.
Eren couldn't take it anymore, and climbed in his lap. This time he was the one to initiate the kiss. It was fervent, messy, and loud. Large hands grabbed him by the waist and pulled him closer. Helplessly trapped in the other's grasps, Eren's only course of action was to roll his hips, then grind down between Levi's legs.
That was like magic. His older brother threw his head back, eyes shut, lips parted, letting out a delicious moan. Taking advantage of the outstretched neck, Eren attacked it with his lips. At the same time, he looped his thumbs underneath the white shirt, and pushed it down, the dark waistcoat along with it. He admired Levi's arms with his touch, and discovered that he could not even nearly clasp his hand around those biceps.
"I always thought I was quite strong, but I think you could hold me down and I would be under your mercy." Eren stroked the firm arm.
Levi rubbed Eren's still clothed backside. "Do you want me to hold you down?"
"I would let you do many things," Eren promised. "For example…"
Eren's thumb rubbed the back of Levi's hand. Eventually, he led it to slide underneath the hem of his nightgown until it met his naked thigh. Levi bit his lip as he could not see, only touch. It felt smooth and warm. Eren's hand led his up higher, and the more he traveled north, the garment rode up along, revealing the legs that had already messed with his head before. His palm rubbed against his brother's groin, and a tug guided him further until— Eren moaned, his cheeks were flushed in a red tint.
"Here?" Levi palmed the half hard cock, and probably would have spent a moment to internalise that he was not raised to pleasure other men if not for the fact that it had been nullified by first grade incest. In that moment he could not care less. He simply wanted Eren to come undone beneath him, above him, it did not matter.
Eren scooted closer, wrapped his arms around Levi's neck, and nodded. Languidly, he began to thrust his hips forward for more friction. "Uhuh, right there. You could rub me there or even lick, ah and then milk me." He threw his head back, praising his older brother for the faster pace.
Levi unlaced the loose-fitting nightgown, pushed the neckline down on one shoulder, and kissed the exposed collarbone, leaving marks that would remain well into the next morning. Whenever Eren's filthy mouth would rile him up too much, he would bite down on the delicate skin.
Eren had a good time in his lap, just grinding, bouncing however it pleased him, but Levi wanted to see more. So, he grabbed the younger by the waist, and flipped their position. Eren blinked as he felt the mattress on his back, and was now looking up at Levi. Though he would not say he was complaining, because Levi was now undoing his trousers.
Feeling extra naughty, Eren lifted one leg to teasingly rub one foot against the straining bulge.
"Ahh fuck, Eren. Don't do that!" Levi groaned but pressed against the heel.
"Language, Your Highness," Eren giggled.
At the sight of Levi's freed cock, however, Eren swallowed his laughter. He had fantasised about his brother's cock in different sizes, some had pretty unrealistic proportions, but having the real thing hard, pulsing, and ready in front of him made him wonder whether it was going to fit at all. Be it in his mouth or in his ass. Nevertheless, he had never wanted anything this much.
When Levi lowered himself to kiss him hard in the mouth, his hands spreading Eren's legs wide, his cock dragged against the fabric of the thin sleeping garment. Eren could feel it through the barrier of cloth, and it made him moan out loud, because he wanted it so badly. Would Levi look at him weirdly if he knew how starved over his cock his little brother was?
Levi devoured his neck with licks and kisses, and when he was facing the clothed chest, he leaned down to suck on the hardened nipples through the fabric. Eren let out a surprised moan, arching his back.
"It's just like the painting suggested. They're like ripe fruits ready to be consumed." Levi rolled one nipple under the tip of his finger, taking in the sight of Eren trembling and making sound under his touch, as if he was playing the other like an instrument.
"Yes...please...Levi—"
Softly, Levi cupped his brother's face. "What is it?"
Eren's expression was pleading but Levi knew that to him, everything would be a command. "I need more. Please, I've been craving this!"
That was all Levi needed to hear.
Gently, he caressed Eren's temple, who had noticed the shift in his brother's mood.
"Levi…" Eren pulled Levi's face close to him, then placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. "Please make me yours."
Levi nodded. They could not turn back and pretend like nothing had happened.
Just one thing was on his mind...
"How...do I do this anyway?"
Eren had forgotten that Levi probably never really had to think about boys fucking other boys unlike him. Spreading his legs some more, and lifting his hips off the bed, he pointed between his legs. "Basically, you put it...you know...here."
"In your ass?" Well, Levi figured out that much. "So, I just push in? Will it hurt?"
His brother only shrugged. "I've only ever used my fingers."
"You've used your fingers?"
"Yes. I recently tried three. The fantasies of you taking me were really vivid that night." Eren smirked.
And Levi felt he was about to burst. The mental image of his brother shoving three fingers up his ass, moaning his name till he reached completion, aroused him even more.
"I also recently discovered that using something like cold cream makes it easier. I've tried it dry or with spit before, though."
"We pick the easier way," Levi instantly decided.
"Alright. Wait a second." Rolling on his stomach, Eren tried to push his own body forward, so he could reach the drawer of the nightstand where he had left the cold cream from his last nightly fun.
At the same time, Levi was rewarded with the incredible sight of Eren's admittedly very shapely ass. Letting out a low purr of satisfaction, Levi wrapped his arms around Eren's stomach, and pulled him flush against him. The neckline had slipped so low, all of the other's shoulders were exposed. And so, he trailed sensual kisses all over them, then along his spine, and shoulder blades, earning himself drawn out moans.
Now it was Levi's turn to moan after Eren had decided to pushed back, grinding against Levi's cock.
"I can't wait to have you in me, Levi. You'll give me what I want, right?" Moaned Eren. He dipped his fingers in the small jar of cream.
"Is this what you want?" Levi let his leaking cock slide up and down in between Eren's cleft. "I can go on like this until I spill all over you."
Eren's moan trailed off in a whine. "No. Not like that. I want you to shove your cock in my waiting hole, pound me deep, and fill me up until I'm all wet and dripping." Shakily, he reached behind to rub against his own entrance with slick fingers.
Levi could not believe the lewd words spilling from his brother's lips, and how hot and ready they made him feel. Leaning forward, he smacked Eren's hand away, ignoring the loud protest. He himself dipped his fingers in the cold cream, then pressed against the entrance. At first, he wanted to start off with two, then found out that it was too ambitious to do so, and pushed one finger in. It went in surprisingly well as Eren knew how to relax his muscles.
"Are you well, Eren?"
His brother nodded. "You can go in deeper and then add another finger...yesss just like that. You're so good, Levi."
Levi thought he really wanted to see Eren's face. Following his heart's desire, he flipped him on his back, so they were facing one another again. He leaned in for a deep kiss, and reinserted his fingers. He pushed in deeper, scissoring and curling the digits in an attempt to stretch Eren.
A delighted outcry made him thrust in harder, add in a third finger that stretched the walls for him.
"Please, I want you. Come on, you're so good to me." Eren's breathless encouragement and soothing caresses were like spells that made him obey.
Coating his arousal in that cream, he watched Eren spread his legs for him. For a moment he thought the voiceless words mouthed at him meant brother, but he dismissed the thought just as quickly.
Inside of Eren was a heat that engulfed him in a fire of lust, setting his body and mind ablaze, until the only thing left for him to coherently utter was the name carried by a long drawn out moan.
Eren's eyes fluttered shut, and he smiled at the feeling of being so full and stretched by his brother. He knew Levi was watching him intently, watching him be this shameless, but Eren wanted him to see. That the child was also an adult.
Levi grabbed Eren's thigh and thrust into him out of need until he bottomed out. He set a slow pace to get himself used to the tightness, the friction that was just too good, he feared he might lose himself.
"God yes, Eren, you feel so good."
Eren grabbed the bedsheets, and moaned as Levi's cock kept drilling into him, kept filling him over and over again. "Harder. Please fuck me harder."
Who was Levi to deny Eren's every wish? The hold on the younger's leg and waist grew tighter, and they were sure to bruise come morning, though the pleasure overshadowed all pain.
Eren rotated his hips, and met Levi's thrusts willingly. He had been hitting that wonderful spot repeatedly, and Eren was close to losing his mind. He could barely keep his mouth closed or swallow his spit. Saliva trickled down the corner of his mouth, and the only thing Eren could do was hang on and enjoy the ride. Oh but what a ride it was.
Levi stared down transfixed as he fucked his brother hard. His cock was about to spill and fill that tight hole with his seed, and during that moment he could not tear his gaze away from the being that embraced him.
He had him there, his brother, his own flesh and blood, open for him. Just like a painting you keep hidden from the public eye, and yet far more beautiful and terrible, for he was real, never to be under your control, the living sign of your sin. But as he beheld Eren, he could not find any fault in his actions. Because he really did not mean his brother any harm. He wanted to protect him, to be protected by him, to carry on with life at his gentle side, to hold him dear as long as God and Time would let them. So, how could his love towards Eren be filthy?
And Eren, his body driven by the hard thrusts to almost dangle over the edge of his bed, thought of their first meeting, their first affectionate touch, their first trip, their first separation, and their first reunion. And when Levi grabbed for his neglected cock, Eren thought of Isolde, and understood her feelings of drowning, foundering, of being unconscious, of utmost rapture.
Thrusts growing erratic bordering on desperate, Levi grabbed Eren's hand, intertwined it with his own, and flipped it over the other's head. In their passion, their hands knocked the crystal glass off of the nightstand, spilling red wine over their arms. It crashed to the ground where it broke in thousand glittering splinters.
When the rocking of his older brother stuttered, Eren wrapped his legs around him, pushed him deep, kept him buried. With a loud groan, Levi released in him, filled him to the brim, filled him so good. And Eren felt complete. His own cum splattered on his spotlessly white nightgown.
If this was what sin felt like, they did not believe in its existence.
Even after they had both come, Eren could still feel the ghost of Levi's pounding. His brother too was not yet back from his high. But a lazy kiss delivered the message of shared bliss.
Exhausted, they remained like that until sleep took them both.
The red liquid trickled down their linked arms— and the thick droplets of wine falling from their entwined hands to the ground looked like blood.