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ninamilkovich · 30 days

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DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL - Part 2

Rating: Explicit

Tags: modern setting, sibling incest, alcohol abuse, angst with a happy ending

Word count: 6,530 words

After their father's funeral, Aemond and Aegon take a road trip to sort out the decade of resentment and misunderstandings between them, and perhaps figure out their relationship.

This part 2 is a gift for my friends Griffith and Arcie @arcielee. Thank you so much for your support. Enjoy ♥

They drive for a good portion of the night, the Cargylls' sedan following them at a safe distance. Aemond keeps a hand on the steering wheel and the other on Aegon's thigh while he minds the music. It's good. It feels like a pocket of fresh air, like borrowed time, but Aegon is too high on Aemond's revelations to care.

Instead he blasts music as loud as Aemond will allow him and savor the hot brand of his palm on his leg through the tailored pants he's still wearing.

That's how it works with him, with them. A high, then it crashes and burns.

They've had good moments, these last few years. Sure, Aegon's been drunk or high for most of them, but that doesn't mean he doesn't remember what happens or doesn't care about it - except the Christmas party, he has no recollection of that night. He wants to ask if Aemond considered kissing him back but he knows there's a risk he would take his hand away if he asked.

Because that's how Aemond is. Things have to happen on his schedule, on his terms, or else the man just bolts out of there with a hum, swagger in his step like he's not bothered. But Aegon knows better. He knows how to read his brother, how to read tension in the line of his shoulders or the way his fingers twitch.

He tries to keep his leg still under Aemond's hand and occasionally bounces the other, stopping every time Aemond squeezes his thigh. The way his thumb traces circles and curves on his outer thigh drives him mad and makes him spread his legs wider but Aemond doesn't comment on it.

He does all he can to pretend he doesn't see Aemond occasionally twitching his fingers on the steering wheel or readjusting his own legs. Sometimes his pinky finger draws a circle on the inside of his thigh and he has to bite his lip.

He plays shitty rap music he knows Aemond hates and hums under his breath and Aemond keeps his hand on his thigh, almost casually. It's good.

They don't talk much apart from the periodic, random comment from Aegon, and the periodic, answering hum from Aemond. They go through a drive-through to get coffee and donuts and he gets to make fun of Aemond for the way he scrunches up his nose when he orders the most outrageous, ridiculous cold-brewed coffee drink he can. It's baby pink and tastes like sugar and nothing like coffee, and Aemond indulges him by taking a sip of it. Aegon doesn't care that it's obvious he hates it, as he gets to put the straw back in his own mouth.

It's good. It shouldn't feel as good but it does and a part of Aegon doesn't care, doesn't want to care.

Aemond drives until he feels like he's about to drop because he wants to keep looking at Aegon vibrating out of his skin on the passenger seat. Because this time he looks happy and high on nervous energy and caffeine instead of high on what he usually takes. Or used to take.

It's been ages since he's seen Aegon sober and it elates him as much as it worries him. He knows that's usually when Aegon's demons come out, and he's worried that his relapse would have brought them all back to the surface. He supposes he's one of them too - the regrets, the remorse, the guilt, all the shameful things Aegon's been carrying, Aemond knows he's not stranger to them. He knows he's not innocent in that.

From the corner of his eye he steals glances at his brother, who has his head thrown back on the headrest, eyes half-closed, humming under his breath. He's beautiful in the orange light of the interstate lamps, his eyes staring far away at the road, long ahead of them, his messy waves framing his face. Aemond lingers on the soft line of his jaw, on the curve of his bottom lip, and he almost looks like an apparition.

But he's not, he's real and he's there, and Aemond finally feels like he can breathe.

A part of him, the deep, twisted, horrendously selfish part of him is almost glad for this relapse. Because it didn't happen when he was hundreds of miles away, because he got to pick him up once again and now his brother is safe and hopped up on sugar and caffeine in the passenger seat of his car. The selfish part of him wants to keep driving forever so that they never have to leave that bubble and he doesn't have to face his own demons.

The truth is, he's more afraid of himself than of Aegon. He's afraid of his own failures, of his own flaws. He's afraid that one day, he won't be enough. Every single time Aemond picked him up he felt lucky that he was able to catch him before the inevitable fall. He knows it's coming, the moment that Aegon will realize what is on his shoulders, his role as the eldest son of a dead man. But for now, he doesn't have this burden - he's just Aemond's first and only love, sitting in the passenger seat of his car, singing along to a horrible song that Aemond loves to hate, but only because Aegon loves it so much.

Eventually, Aemond burns through the caffeine and needs some shut-eye before he falls asleep at the wheel.

He parks the car at a viewpoint over a city Aegon doesn't remember the name but remembers the clubs. The Cargylls park as far as they can, on the other side of the road, allowing them the illusion that they're not being followed and watched over.

Aegon is vaguely aware that Aemond does this often. That he takes his car around the region, all the way to Storm's End sometimes, parks on viewpoints and watches the sun rise when he can't bear to be alone at home with his thoughts. He doesn't know how he knows this. Surely they talk when he's drunk out of his mind, they must have, since he knows things he can't remember Aemond telling him. He seems to retain the information without remembering the conversations.

He wonders how many times they've talked, if they've ever bared their souls or feelings and he doesn't remember. He wonders about the shit he has said to Aemond over the years. The shit Aemond has said to him, knowing there would be a good chance he wouldn't remember.

Aemond pushes the backseat down and gets a couple of pillows and a blanket from the trunk and it's almost comfortable. It's minimalist, a bit hard on the back, but it's better than the dumps Aegon often crashes in. Or used to crash in. For a moment he has almost forgotten he had been clean for eight months as of a few days ago. He knows it should feel like a setback, instead it feels as though he's taken a big step forward. He knows he would be thinking about drinking if he wasn't so high on Aemond's words.

I kissed you first.

You didn't do anything I didn't want you to.

Or so high on his touch ; a touch as simple as a hand on his thigh and he feels as though he's going to melt out of his skin. He knows it's fucked up. He knows he's responsible ; he's the eldest after all, why wouldn't he be responsible? He should have pushed his brother away when the bean sprout he used to be grew two heads in height in a year and started to be cool. He shouldn't have allowed Aemond to hang out with him and his friends, he shouldn't have encouraged his vices and taught him his tricks. There's a reason Aemond always appears stone cold sober at parties - it doesn't mean he doesn't drink, he does, he's just able to hold his liquor. It's a learned trick, one he learned at Aegon's side.

He started smoking at 14 when Aegon noticed he hadn't grown out of his nervous ticks and suggested he got into something to keep his fingers and mouth busy. Maybe his mind had already gone over the limit, wandered into territories a man should never go when it comes to his own brother. He can't remember exactly when he started noticing Aemond differently. He just remembers noticing the way his long hair swayed over his broad shoulders and back that summer Aemond turned 16, and not being surprised by it.

That was when Aegon left for the first time. That fall he packed his bags, switched colleges and came back for Spring break to Aemond hating him. Or so he thought, until that night he climbed into his bed. For a moment, everything was perfect between them.

The next morning, Aemond was the one to leave.

They change back to back in the dark of the car, and Aemond tries not to think of the freckled back he knows is behind him, the muscles dancing beneath the milky skin.

Aegon goes to check in with the Cargylls and when he comes back, Aemond is laying on his side, facing away from him. He shuts the door, and before he can talk himself out of it he lays down just behind him and buries his face between his shoulder blades. Aemond smells like clean coton and cigarette. "When?" he asks, splaying a hand on Aemond's back when his brother doesn't push him away.

He feels more than he hears Aemond's hum, the sound vibrating under his hand. "When did you start feeling this way?" he clarifies.

Aemond tenses under Aegon's hand, holding his breath while he ponders his answer. He knows exactly what he wants to say, he's just unsure how to voice it in a concise manner. "Always," he finally answers, and the word weighs heavy on his tongue.

"What do you mean, always?" Aegon scoffs, sounding breathless and bewildered. "I was a prick to you growing up."

Aemond shrugs as Aegon rewinds the last twenty-eight years of their shared lives. No moment seems more significant than the others, except one. He remembers Aemond sneaking into his bed after his accident, hiding his bandaged face in Aegon's chest and he remembers how glad he had been to hold his baby brother close. It had been innocent at that time, and now he wonders if it had felt different for Aemond.

Aegon traces the curves of Aemond's shoulder blades with the back of his fingers, enjoying the calming sound of his breathing. The sugar rush is gone and his hand is trembling slightly. His throat feels dry and he doesn't know if he wants a drink or if the thought alone makes him nauseous.

All he knows is that Aemond hasn't allowed him such simple affection in years, and he slides an arm around Aemond's waist, curling up around him like it's the most natural thing in the world. Aemond searches for his hand and weaves their fingers together tightly, still silent.

"Helaena's 16th birthday party," Aegon suddenly recalls ; he can see the scene playing in his mind as if it was yesterday. "You kept making out with that girl in plain view. Marie, was it?"

"Maris."

"Yeah, that's the one. Hated the bitch. I had a feeling you were trying to make me jealous. Couldn't figure out why..." he trails off, remembering the girls and guys he had circling around him. "You had a type. Still have, from what I know."

Dark hair. Dark eyes. Women. Everything that he isn't.

Aemond tightens his hold around his hand, trying to anchor himself. He wants to tell Aegon that it's not a preference, only a choice he makes so he doesn't get lost in some kind of fantasy, so that they can't be surrogates for what he really wants. "What do you remember?" he asks him, and Aegon has been dreading this question for almost a decade. He doesn't need to ask Aemond to clarify what he means, he got his meaning from his tone alone.

"Aem, please."

His hand squeezes his. "Tell me."

"Just you, bein' in my bed," he swallows, bile rising in his throat again. "The way you smelled. The way you breathed."

His breathing has gone erratic and he's panicking but Aemond asked him so he has to push through. The smell of Aemond's hair is almost cloying and his body is too hot against his front, but he wants to melt into him instead of pull away. "I loved it, and I hated myself for it. It felt right and wrong at the same time. I've wonder what I've done to make you this way..."

"You didn't do anything, I've always been this way," Aemond instantly replies. Then, after a minute of silence, adds. "It's always been you."

"Fuck. We're fucked, right?"

Aemond's answer is another squeeze before he brings their joined hands higher against his chest, effectively pulling Aegon closer against his back. He's crashed through the sugar high and the sudden onslaught of anxiety has his eyelids feeling heavy. If Aemond ends up answering him verbally, he doesn't hear him.

When Aegon wakes up later in the morning Aemond is sitting on the picnic table closer to the railing of the overview, his feet propped on the bench. He's smoking and drinking cold coffee from a thermos.

"Where are the twins?" Aegon asks when he looks around and notices the sedan is no longer parked across the road.

"Gone to get breakfast," Aemond answers him as Aegon opens a can of soda to clear the foul taste of sleep from his mouth. He's looking at him intensely, his eyes dark, flicking his cigarette between his fingers. It looks like he's been awake for a while.

"How did you convince them to leave us?"

Aegon doesn't get a reply, because as soon as he's swallowed his mouthful of soda, Aemond's taking the can from his hand and putting it away somewhere ; somewhere he doesn't give a shit about, because suddenly Aemond's hand is in his hair and his mouth is captured in the most intense, open-mouthed kiss he's ever received.

Aegon's eyes close on instinct and his hands come up to Aemond's waist, gripping his shirt. Aemond kisses him like he's got something to prove, like he's been waiting all night to do this. His breath is terrible but Aegon doesn't care and he kisses him back with as much fervor. His mouth is warm, tasting of smoke and coffee, two things he's come to associate with Aemond. The smoke burns the back of his throat and he hopes it will linger, a reminder of this moment.

His lips are a bit chapped but his tongue is clever, curling against his in the most delicious way. The kiss is a bit frantic, rushed, and very sudden, but Aegon isn't surprised. That's how it always is with Aemond, the man is cool and collected until he isn't and he snaps. It's always quick as lightening, blinding and a bit chilling, but it triggers the kind of adrenaline Aegon relishes in.

They kiss for as long as they can without getting too out of breath. Every time Aemond pulls away to breathe, Aegon is on him, sharing his air and every time Aegon is the one to take a step back, Aemond dives back in for another taste of him. They push against each other until they hear a car coming up the road, and still wordlessly decide to stay apart even when they notice it's not the twins, just a passersby.

They keep driving north for most of the day, and by now Aegon's not sure Aemond has a destination in mind.

They blast music, talk about insignificant things that still make Aegon tear up from time to time. They stop for a smoke with the twins around lunch, and by the time they stop at the next city, they're both exhausted again and longing for a shower and a real bed. It's been a full 24 hours that they've been on the road, but it feels much longer. Aemond keeps his hand on Aegon's thigh.

When they check into a hotel on the main avenue, the clerk doesn't blink as Aemond requests one bedroom. Aegon feels a pang of panic before reason kicks in and he remembers there is nothing strange about two relatives sharing a hotel room. Still, it feels both illicit and exciting.

He sits on one the beds, chewing his nails as Aemond takes the first shower. He comes out in a cloud of steam, wearing dark gray sweatpants and a t-shirt, which is the most relaxed Aegon has ever seen him dressed in years. Aegon stands under the hot spray for as long as he can bear the scolding water on the sensitive skin of his back. He shampoo his hair while debating jerking off to ease the tension, but in the end he decides not to.

When he comes out Aemond is sitting cross-legged on the bed, looking at his phone. The battery of Aegon's died a few hours ago, but he ignores it. He doesn't want to talk to anyone.

Aemond is itching for a smoke, Aegon can tell from the way he clenches and unclenches his fingers. He always does that when he's stressed, or on the edge. It conjures images in Aegon's mind and he knows that if it was someone else other than Aemond he would have offered to suck them off already. He wants to, badly so. But the truth is he's terrified of making the first move, of making the wrong move.

"Relax," Aemond says, and Aegon wonders how he can be so collected right now while he feels like a floundering fish.

He knows Aemond he not always so collected, but the only other state he's ever in is absolute fury. It's an attractive look on him and a horrible one to witness, as his anger always stems from pain. In the car, there hadn't been any room or practicability for intimacy. Now they're alone in a bedroom, nothing or no one to disturb them, and Aegon can't help his wandering mind. He should have had jerked off in the shower.

It's still early in the day, barely 4pm, but neither of them has gotten much sleep in the last few days, and his back still aches from the backseat of the car.

Aemond settles in one bed, sprawled on his stomach, almost like an invitation. Aegon slides beside him on his belly too, swinging his thigh over one of Aemond's and presses his face against his shoulder, breathing him in. He slips an arm around him, hand splayed on his lower back under his t-shirt. His skin is soft and warm under his hand. It's eerily intimate.

That's how he falls asleep, lulled by the gentle rhythm of Aemond's breathing.

The room has gone dark when Aegon wakes up, and a quick glance to the old-fashioned digital clock on the bedside table tells him it's almost 10 in the evening. He's soaked in sweat, feeling hot and clammy like he's got a fever. Aemond's back is burning against his front ; the man runs hot, always has, and now it's bordering on uncomfortable. He pushes himself up and Aemond doesn't move, his ribcage expanding and releasing in a slow rhythm.

He picks up Aemond's smokes and lighter from the dresser and sneaks onto the balcony. Below them, the city is eerily quiet, or maybe it's just that Aegon's thoughts have stopped spiraling so much.

His ears are still buzzing from being suddenly pulled out of his dream and his cock is hard in his shorts. He's still anxious on what to do. He knows he can rely on Aemond to lead him from here, but he hates that he needs him to, and he hates that he's still unsure what his brother's intentions are.

He's smoking his second cigarette, enjoying the cool night breeze on his back through his sweat-soaked t-shirt when Aemond slips behind him, silent. He's pulled his hair back in a simple braid that hangs neatly between his shoulder blades, and when he steps close to Aegon to pluck the cigarette from his hand and bring it to his own mouth, Aegon can smell the sweat and sleep on him.

He watches hungrily, not bothering to hide, as Aemond's lips curl around the filter and he inhales the smoke. Aemond's eye glances at him while he does it, his head and the rest of his body stock still. Aegon knows his desire is plain on his face, and the intense look in Aemond's eye tells him it's not gone unnoticed.

He swallows, licking his lips as Aemond brings the cigarette back to his mouth. Aegon takes it, pulls on it once and exhales through his nose without breaking eye contact. Aemond hums once, then a second time, like he's debating with himself inside his head and has reached an agreement.

He steps closer, dipping his head to press a wet kiss below his ear, in the soft divot behind his jaw bone. "We're gonna do this my way now," he murmurs and Aegon shudders.

"Huh?"

"Go clean up."

"What?" Aegon breathes, cock twitching and brain shot to hell.

"Go. Clean up," Aemond orders, voice barely a murmur but with a dark tone that makes him shiver.

The intention behind his words and the tone of Aemond's voice follow Aegon all the way to the bathroom where he splashes cold water on his face. When he looks up, he feels like he's not seeing himself in the mirror. His heart is racing and he feels unsettled, like he's in a dream - Aemond is finishing his cigarette on the balcony of their hotel room, waiting for him to get cleaned up so he can fuck him.

There's no doubt in his mind what his brother wants, and the thought sends hot flash through him every time it crosses his mind.

Focusing on his breathing, he repeats the motions he's done a hundred times before and cleans himself up as best as he can. He tries not to think of what waits for him on the other side of the door, but his hands are still shaking in anticipation.

He's wanted this for years, more than a decade and yet the prospect of finally having a taste of what he's been craving is terrifying. He's not afraid he won't like, he knows he's going to love this more than he's ever loved anything - because he loves Aemond more fiercely than he's ever loved anything or anyone on this God-forsaken earth.

He's afraid that once he'll have more than a simple taste, more than a few stolen kisses and caresses, he's fall back into despair like he did the first time.

He's afraid that what is about to happen in that hotel room, far away from their homes and their lives, is going to stay in that room forever, leaving him with only his memories and his regrets once again.

Still, he cleans up, puts his underwear back on -deciding to forgo the shirt as he's already burning up and steps out of the bathroom.

Aemond is still on the balcony, smoking a fresh cigarette. His other hand is clenching and unclenching like it always does when he's nervous, and the sight of him less than perfectly relaxed is a balm on his own nerves. His heart picks up speed again as Aemond crushes his cigarette and steps back into the room, a wide look in his eye. He doesn't look as assured as Aegon thought he would and it makes him smile, a tender heat blooming in his chest.

He sometimes forget that Aemond too has weaknesses, and intimacy is one of them. That's why he hides behind his clothes and his severe look, enjoying the way his scar often makes people keep their distance. Because deep down, Aemond is just as insecure as Aegon is, just better at pretending.

Before Aegon can talk himself out of it, he walks up to Aemond and grabs him by the face - he kisses him slowly, thoroughly, savoring him. Aemond melts against him, sliding his hands along his waist and ribs, and that simple, almost innocent contact is enough to make Aegon shiver.

"I need you," he whispers against Aemond's lips, and the bastard has the nerve to smile.

"I know," he answers, and Aegon wants to punch him in the kidneys. Instead he slides his hands down and pulls him closer by the hips.

"I want you," he says looking straight at him, and it's all it takes to wipe the smug look from his face. Aemond's eye turns dark and he backs him against the dresser, stepping close, effectively trapping him with his thighs.

"I remember the feeling of your mouth," Aemond murmurs before diving in for another passionate kiss, his hot tongue prodding Aegon's relentlessly, tasting him, learning him. "It's never been the same ever since."

Aegon whines at that, his grip tightening on Aemond's slim hips. "I tried so hard to be the strong one, to be the big brother you deserved," he breathes between them.

"I don't give a shit about what you think I deserve," Aemond groans in his neck and the rumble of his voices makes Aegon shudder in delight.

He pants as Aemond licks hot trails from the base of his throat to the sensitive skin below his ear. "All I know is that I want you, I've always wanted you," he whispers, voice rough and it's all it takes for the last of Aegon's nerve to settle.

"Keep your eye on me," he pleads, but it's unnecessary, Aemond couldn't look away to save his life.

Aemond's burning eye on him, Aegon dips his hands below the waistband of Aemond's sweats and nearly whimpers when he notices that he's not wearing any underwear. Aemond smirks at that, but his smile is wiped away from his face when Aegon pulls him in, grinding their hips together.

He's been half-hard in his sweats since he woke up, but the feeling of Aegon's hard cock against his makes a hot flash run up his spine, from his tailbone to the top of his back. Some place deep inside him is throbbing and all he can do is follow the rocking of Aegon's hips and chase his mouth to capture it in another passionate kiss.

He loses track of time ; he doesn't know how long they keep kissing, rocking against each other and groaning into each other's mouth. He lets his hands roam everywhere he can reach; Aegon's hair, the sides of his face, his bare shoulders and chest.

As Aemond dips his mouth in his neck once again, unwilling to break the frantic rhythm of their hips so he can kiss him lower, Aegon gets a flash of that fateful night, of fumbling hands and clumsy grinding. "I don't-" he starts, but Aemond quiets him with a firm press of his mouth.

"Have I ever let you down?" he asks, breathless, and Aegon shakes his head. "Trust me. I got you."

He lets himself be manhandled and pushed down on the bed, gasping as Aemond pulls his own shirt over his head, messing up his hair. He pulls down his sweats efficiently and Aegon mirrors him without a thought, throwing his underwear aside without breaking eye contact. Aemond's nostrils flares and his long braid falls over his shoulder as he climbs on the bed, hovering over Aegon.

Not wasting another second, unable to bear their absence of physical contact a moment longer, Aegon wraps his arms around Aemond's neck and pulls him down. The other man goes willingly, lowering his body onto his and Aegon welcomes him in the cradle of his hips.

They moan into each other's mouth as their skin meet from pelvis to chest, their hard cocks pressing against one another, caught between their stomachs. They resume their frantic grinding, unable to let go of each other long enough to figure something else out, or even to break their kiss long enough to discuss it.

And finally as they melt into each other, the realization hits Aegon ; it's an intense, overwhelming relief like he's never felt before. Tears come to his eyes and he sinks his nails into the freckled skin of Aemond's back, clinging to him.

He can't believe Aemond is here in his arms again, both of them trembling with the intensity of it all.

"You're here," he sobs into their kiss.

"I'm here," Aemond answers in a breath, trailing his mouth on the underside of his jaw.

Their already frantic rocking turns desperate, Aegon whining as Aemond pushing himself up on his left elbow, his right hand reaching between their stomachs to wrap around both their cocks. He groans as he does it, and the sight of him is a marvel. From his messed-up braid to his cheekbones tainted in red, from the curve of his upper lip as he moans to the way the muscles of his shoulders bulge with each rocking motion - Aegon is enthralled.

Aemond loses himself again in the soft skin of Aegon's neck, pleasure building in his stomach.

It feels good. Insanely good, for such a simple act. And yet he doesn't think he's ever felt such tension between his thighs, like a spring of molten heat is coiling deep inside, aching to be released. Aegon sobs again, in pleasure this time, clinging to him with his arms and legs.

"I can't-"

"I know. Come on, baby," he breathes, almost pleading. "Come for me."

Aegon surrenders to his words and to the relentless grip of his hand, throwing his head back and letting the tension inside of him snap. He cries out as comes in hot pulses between them, the sensation almost painful in its intensity. Aemond follows him over the edge, groaning his pleasure in his shoulder, adding to the pool of warm liquid on their stomachs.

Aegon starts laughing as they pant against each other's skin, trying to catch their breath, and he feels almost hysterical. The aftershocks of his orgasm are making him shake but Aemond presses grounding kisses to his shoulders, humming soothingly.

"Fuck," he sighs and the corner of Aemond's mouth twitches in the shadow of a smile as he pulls away, pushing himself up on his knees between Aegon's splayed legs.

He grabs his discarded t-shirt and wipes their stomach perfunctorily, throwing it away as soon as he's done. Aegon expects him to pull away, but instead he stays, pulling his splayed thighs up higher, almost wrapping them around his hips again. Then he runs his hot palms up and down Aegon's inner thighs, enjoying the softness of his skin and the way he shudders, oversensitive.

His mouth stretches in a grin, his eye roaming Aegon's body hungrily. He feels exposed but it's not uncomfortable, instead it makes him preen and flush.

Aegon's breathless moan echoes in the room as Aemond bends over him, dipping his head to nip at his stomach, then lick up a hot strip from his belly button to his sternum. When he pushes on his knees enough to reach Aegon's mouth, all he can do is stretch his neck, pushing himself up on his elbows to meet him halfway. He moans as their tongues curl and the taste of their spend flavors their kiss.

They kiss for a long moment, Aemond still running his hands from his hips to his knees tenderly. Aegon feels his body grow heavy under Aemond's kisses and caresses, the feeling of urgency receding. Slow passion has never been his thing - he likes it fast and quiet, anonymous, but Aemond makes him want to linger, to lay back and be devoured.

He's started panting again, in both excitement and emotion, a Aemond swallows each and everyone of the sounds that come out of his throat, from his quiet moans to his breathless whines.

"I want you," Aemond murmurs between them, almost like a secret prayer, and there is no mistaking what he means. Aegon nods, whispering an eager yes in the air they share.

It takes a bit of maneuvering to get them settled ; Aegon splayed on Aemond's lap, his back arched into the sheets and his fingers gripping the pillows as his mouth opens on a silent cry when Aemond's first finger breaches him.

The feeling shakes him to his core, the first taste of being joined as one, and it only makes him hungrier for more. Desire sparks in his stomach, his cock twitching and growing hard again. Each gentle thrust and prod from Aemond's finger has him whine and rock back into the motion.

Desperation sparks between them again as Aegon's body grows looser and it's obvious Aemond is hanging by a thread, quickly losing his iron grip on his restraint. They fumble, reaching for the condom and rolling it on Aemond. He grunts as Aegon does it, shaking at the sight of his hard cock in his hands. Aegon's breathless laugh is punched out of him as Aemond pushes back against the sheets playfully before settling over him, guiding his legs to wrap around his waist again.

They both hold they breath as Aemond pushes inside. The stretch burns him in the most delicious way and Aegon never wants to forget this moment. He feels speared to the spot, almost paralyzed by the shudder that starts behind his tailbone and runs along his spine. Aemond's gaze never leave his at he enters him, his mouth open on a silent groan.

He does grunt out loud when Aegon lowers his legs from around his waist and curls them behind his thighs instead, using the leverage to rock back into him.

"C'mon, Aem," he pleads and he can only oblige him. Aegon's body is like a vice around his cock and the pressure and fiction make his head spin. He starts a slow rhythm, as slow as he can take it and every thrust is more intense than the last, pleasure

Still, he takes his time, focusing on the feeling of Aegon under him, around him, and it feels like coming home. He's never felt this raw, this vulnerable and yet he wouldn't give this feeling up for the world. The feeling of their conjoined flesh make him want to spill all the secrets he's buried in the last decade and tears burn his scarred eye socket.

He buries the overwhelming emotion in the passionate kiss Aegon offers him, cradling his face between his hands, keeping as much of his weight as possible on his elbows. Yet all Aegon does is pull him closer with his legs, arms and mouth, as though he wants to swallow him whole, absorb him.

Aemond lets himself be pulled under : he's never been able to resist Aegon's magnetic pull anyway, he's always come back to him one way or another, no matter how much it hurt him or how much the ensuing regret and shame twisted his stomach. Now all those feelings are gone, replaced only by pure bliss and an all-encompassing pleasure he could have never anticipated.

Aemond keeps a slow rhythm, sweet and sensual in a way Aegon's never experienced. He never stops kissing him, as if the taste of his mouth is more vital to him than breathing. No one has ever fucked him so thoroughly and he knows he'll crave this until the end of his life and that he's been ruined for anyone else. He clings to Aemond, desperate to touch every each of him. Clings to his sweaty back, to his ass, to his hair and the more he clings the more Aemond responds, breathing him in, caging him in, almost suffocating him under his weight.

It's beautiful, almost painful in it's intensity.

He's never seen Aemond so undone, so desperate. Him who is always so collected seems to have lost all sense of control. Aegon would have never thought his brother would be so passionate a lover, so tender and worshipful, but he is. And Aegon is too greedy to try to try to temper it, instead he clings to every each of sweaty skin he can get, sinking his nails into the freckled skin and leaving half-moons dents into it.

He cries in Aemond's neck as he comes, his orgasm washing over him like the most powerful storm - starting low in his stomach, behind his tailbone and reaching up all the way to his sternum, cutting his breath off for a second.

Aemond's release is just as potent, being pulled out of him by the delicious heat of Aegon's body clenching around him. He buries his grunts in Aegon's sweaty waves, whispering words he'd never dare say to him out loud, and Aegon both laughs and sobs at them. His breath hitches as Aemond pulls out as gently as he can, discarding of the condom while Aegon wipes his stomach with a corner of the bedsheet.

They collapse with a sigh in a pile of limbs, sticky skin and white sweaty hair.

For long minutes they watch each other as they collect their thoughts and find their breath again. Aegon's never looked so at peace than he does in that instant and Aemond wants to keep him for himself, to lock him away somewhere the world can't hurt him and give him everything he's got. All the love and desperation and longing he's felt all his life - give it all to him, put it down at his feet for Aegon to do with it as he pleases.

He wants to surrender to him, and the thought isn't as terrifying as it once was.

"I love you," Aegon breathes, looking on the verge of tears. Aemond's scarred eye throbs again and he has to sit up and angle his face away so that he can collect himself. Aegon hooks his chin over his shoulder and runs a finger up and down his arm. "It's okay," he whispers.

"I know," Aemond says and it sounds like he's saying something else.

"I know," Aegon whispers in turn, smiling tearfully.

Aemond turns to him, his throat clicking as he swallows, but before he can say anything Aegon has climbed into his lap and taken his face between his hands. "You told me to trust you," he murmurs, his voice trembling slightly. "Maybe we can-"

"I love you," he says, looking straight at Aegon and it makes his heart swell in sorrow and joy both at the pure relief that spreads across his face. His lower lip trembles and two silent tears follow the curve of his cheek. He presses his mouth to the underside of his jaw, catching one of them on his lips, tasting the salt of Aegon's emotions.

He clings to his waist and Aegon clings to his face and he has a feeling that maybe, if they keep clinging to each other, they'll make it.

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