Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/754802.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Sebastian_Moran/Severin_Moran
  Character:
      Sebastian_Moran, Severin_Moran
  Additional Tags:
      twin!morans_verse, pedoness, You_Have_Been_Warned, first_time
      awkwardness, Morancest, or_morcest_if_you_want_to_call_it_that_instead
  Series:
      Part 1 of Awakening
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-04-09 Words: 3030
****** The Everglow ******
by HurricanesatDawn
Summary
     It’s safe here like this, in his brother’s arms, where they don’t
     have to worry about anything. Not like this, not when they’re
     together. They’re safe together.
They had shared a room since shortly after they were born. After their parents
had taken them home from the hospital, with their little matching blue
blankets, they had been put into the same crib, in the room that had been set
up for Sebastian to use as he grew up. They hadn’t been expecting twins, and
only had one crib in there, one set of everything, but after Severin had come
out as well, they’d rethought their plans slightly.
It had been decided that even though they had only wanted the one child—the one
son—they would keep both, and they could share a room. There were too many uses
for the other spare rooms in the house, and it seemed like a waste to keep them
separate, especially when it might inconvenience their wetnurse—having to dart
between two rooms, that might have ended up being in different wings.
It had only made sense to let them share, especially once they saw how the boys
clung to each other, never wanting to be parted even in sleep. The bond they
seemed to share turned out to be beneficial, even, because apart from needing
care, they only seemed to truly want attention from each other as they grew
older.
Sure, the maids would play with them, taking them out into the gardens to let
them crawl around in the dirt, sometimes separating them to lift one into the
air. But they would tire of it almost immediately, retreating back to be next
to one another as they spoke in that garbled language of theirs that eventually
would filter its way into being actual English—and sometimes French. They had
turned out to be the perfect companions for each other, and after a little
while, as they began to grow older, they learnt how to be able to be separate
for short periods of time.
Their mother would take the older one—by only twenty minutes—away, letting
whichever one of the maids was nearest keep an eye on the younger, and she
would bring him into her study, letting him play with the new toys she had
bought him. They bonded that way, perhaps once a week, for a few minutes or so,
and even though neither child were particularly what she had wanted, she found
she rather liked Sebastian.
He was more even-tempered than his younger brother, easier to persuade to be
quiet once Severin was out of his presence—and whatever happened to the younger
one when Sebastian wasn’t around was far from her concern.
Their father had initially thought that one day they would grow out of their
room, but they hadn’t, and it proved more than adequate for two. They
eventually needed a bed instead of a crib, and after deliberation, it was
decided to buy one instead of two, because they seemed more than wanting to
continue sharing. Once they hit their teen years, their father had concluded,
they would be given separate rooms; and perhaps a little bit earlier than that,
once they grew out of each other, they would get two beds to replace the one.
But for a while, it had seemed innocent enough to allow their four year old
sons to have a single bed, and sleep together at night. At least it kept them
quiet, and according to the maid who stayed in the room next door, they never
so much as stirred at night.
It remained that way for years, with not a single complaint from either boy as
they grew older and older, more than content to sleep next to each other at
night, sometimes cuddled up together; and sometimes with nothing but a hand on
the other’s chest, lulled to sleep by the sound of his twin’s beating heart.
For the first eleven years, it was utterly innocent. Every touch was one born
out of childishness, no more sinister than the fights they would have on
occasion, the fists thrown, but out of that began to grow something different.
It was on one such night that things changed even more, after they had been
sent to bed without dinner for breaking one of mother’s vases in the hallway.
The maid had tattled on them, and the moment father had come home, they had
been punished for it.
They hadn’t listened immediately, of course, waiting to be shut away in their
room before they made quiet play, laying across the floor and talking, ignoring
how hungry they both were. Eventually, they went to bed of their own accord,
wriggling their way underneath the perfectly pressed sheets of their bed and
underneath the blankets, not moments too soon for the maid to pop in to check
on them.
She never comes all the way into the room, just stands in the doorway and
watches for a few moments, waiting to see if they twitch under her severe gaze.
They don’t, of course, not needing to as they lay still, breathing deeply, with
Severin pressed into his brother’s back for warmth.
He starts to sneeze though, just before the maid is ready to make her retreat,
and Sebastian can tell, reaching back with a slow hand to grip his brother’s
hip. “Shh,” he whispers so quietly, as Severin holds his breath. If they’re
caught awake, then they’ll be in more trouble in the morning, on top of what
they’ve already amassed this week.
Under his hand, Severin’s bare skin is hot to the touch, nothing but skin
stretched across his torso, as neither of them bothered to reclaim their shirts
before they stumbled off to bed. He’s warning the boy to not give them away,
and he can feel Severin twitch slightly behind him, a silent apology for almost
spoiling everything.
When the door shuts again, Severin doesn’t give way to the sneeze, but
Sebastian can feel him twitching again, a muffled sound coming from his lips
that makes him frown at his brother.
“Baby brother?” he asks quietly, aware that the maid might still be lingering
near their door.“Are you all right?” He starts to turn on the bed, pulling his
hand away so he can look at Severin, his own eyebrows pulled together in
confusion.
On Severin’s face is a deep red blush, ducking his eyes to not make contact
with Sebastian, and he punches his brother lightly in the shoulder, admonishing
him and asking that he shut up. He doesn’t understand why he made that moaning
noise any more than Sebastian does, only knowing for certain that it wasn’t out
of pain.
He had felt good. Oddly so, in a way he had never felt before, and it’s
embarrassing, because he’s not sure how to deal with it. With the fact that he
can feel the part of himself that he always has to keep covered—except during
bath time and peeing time—is twitching in the confines of his sleep pants.
Grudgingly, Sebastian turns back, not sure what to make of his brother’s
reaction, his hand drifting back to where he’d put it initially. They slide
back into place, with Severin spooned behind him, but he can feel something
slightly different now that he can’t quite comprehend.
He knows, logically, what it is. He has one of those things as well—they even
compared once, during a bath with hushed voices, before the maid came back in
and spoilt it—but last time he saw his own, it hadn’t felt like that. It hadn’t
been hard to the touch, or that big feeling, like Severin’s is against his
back.
It’s braced against his buttocks slightly, and he wriggles against it,
frowning. They’ve always known they weren’t supposed to touch themselves there,
except when using the toilet or cleaning themselves, so he’s not sure if
something is actually wrong or not. “S-Sev?” he whispers, after hearing another
muffled sound in his ear.
Remembering how Severin had sounded when he’d first touched the boy’s hip, he
presses his hand down a little bit harder, rubbing his fingers along his skin.
Sure enough, not a moment later, he can hear his brother make that little
moaning sound again, and he has to do something about it.
Jerking his hand away quickly, he moves to turn on the bed, fully now instead
of just part way, and Severin isn’t quick enough to avoid his eyes. With their
gazes connected, Sebastian reaches out tentatively, his fingers sliding along
the length of his brother’s waist, stroking his skin softly.
It’s just to see if he can make Severin make the same sound again, deliberately
this time. Honest.
Severin’s face is still flushed—curiously so—and his lips parted slightly as he
pants, eyes squeezing tightly shut suddenly, not wanting to let Sebastian see
him like that anymore. Without even thinking about it, Sebastian pushes himself
up, to press his lips to his brother’s tilted open mouth in a quick peck.
They’ve kissed before. Not like this. Not anything other than innocent little
brushes of mouth that never meant anything. They were always chaste little
kisses accompanied by hugs or cuddling, and this one feels different. No one
had ever seen them kiss, or told them it was wrong, because it had never felt
right to kiss each other when other people were in the room.
But now, his brother’s mouth feels warm and wet under his, slightly slimy and
he doesn’t know to use his tongue to prolong it so he doesn’t. His hand
strays—shaking slightly—as it edges along the hem of Severin’s sleep pants.
“Sev—” he starts to ask softly, a huff of air against Severin’s mouth before
another kiss like the first one, but he feels it bump against his hand. It’s
hard and feels weird against his knuckles, almost stopping him. He tries to
stop, until Severin makes another noise.
“Pl-please, Seb,” his brother begs him quietly, and he should probably not be
doing this, whatever this is, but he’s never been able to resist Severin when
he asks for something, and he isn’t about to start now.
He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he works a hand shyly down in there, past
the drawstring line, and down until he’s sure that he’s touching it. His palm
slides over Severin’s little baby penis, and he almost flinches back, biting
down on his lip as he pulls away from his brother’s mouth. But Severin actually
moans this time, louder than before, and Sebastian gasps at it, afraid that
someone might hear them now.
Urgently, he presses their mouths back together again, sealing Severin’s shut
to cut off that noise, and their teeth clash lightly together. Severin keens
against his mouth now, the vibration feeling funny on his lips, as his fingers
wrap awkwardly around his brother’s penis.
It throbs in his hand, feeling hot and kind of wet, and he doesn’t know for
sure what to do with it, but every time his hand moves even the slightest bit,
Severin makes these little whimpering noises against his lips. It’s as if he’s
desperate and needy for something, but he can’t tell Sebastian exactly what he
wants.
Instead of trying to ask, he drags his fingers along the little length, intent
on figuring just what things make Severin sound the happiest, so he can do them
as much as possible. By accident, their tongues start to touch, because he’s
stopped paying attention to what his mouth is doing, not thinking about
anything beyond the movements of his hand and the noises Severin makes.
It’s kind of gross, like an unpleasant wet noodle brushing up against his own
tongue, and it’s his turn to start flushing pink, pulling away from it just as
his fingers end up along the very tip of Severin’s penis.
The cry that escapes Severin’s lips isn’t particularly loud—despite feeling
like it is—and Sebastian’s eyes flash open, concerned that he’s accidentally
hurt his brother. The boy looks pained, his head pushed back on the pillow, and
his face scrunched together as his penis twitches and some sort of fluid gets
all over Sebastian’s hand.
Unable to resist, Sebastian quickly abandons his brother’s mouth to wiggle his
way under the blankets and actually see what’s going on down there. It feels
odd to do, to go looking for Severin’s penis, but it’s really the only way to
find out why his brother sounds like he’s crying, and why his hand is all wet,
and the penis has softened in his hand.
He can’t see much under the darkness of the blankets, so he has to end up
pulling them back—careful to use his clean hand and not mess them up—so he can
get a clearer view. It doesn’t look like there’s anything the matter, just that
Severin’s penis has gone back to the way it normally looks, when he’s not doing
anything special with it, and his hand is covered in a clear, sticky fluid.
Tentatively, he lifts his wet hand to his mouth—he’s always been the one that
stuck things in his mouth, licking them, tasting them, wanting to see how they
felt in his mouth—to flatten and press his tongue along the fluid so he can
taste it. His finger slides between his lips, cheeks hollowing out
automatically, and it doesn’t really taste like much of anything. But it’s warm
and interesting, and his eyes travel up to meet Severin’s again.
His brother’s hand is in the air, clenched up into a fist, and it looks like he
was reaching for Sebastian before he stopped himself, the look on his face
clearing up somewhat.
“Are you all right?” he asks the boy, letting his finger slide out of his mouth
with a light popping noise. He crawls back up before Severin can answer,
offering him one of his other fingers to try it if he likes.
Severin’s eyes are dark and confused looking, a little bit blissed out, and he
clumsily wraps his lips around two of Sebastian’s fingers, sucking on them as
if they’re a lollipop. It’s Sebastian’s turn to feel his face start to scrunch
up a bit, because whatever had happened to Severin must be happening to him,
what with starting to feel weird in his down there as well now.
He tries not to say anything, because he’s not sure what it means, but as
Severin’s tongue wraps around his fingers and he sucks on them gently, his face
takes on that same pained look.
Fingers scrambling, he works the hand not claimed by Severin’s mouth down into
his own sleep pants, mimicking what he had done before for his brother, and it
takes only a matter of moments before he starts to feel it as well. His penis
feels exactly the same in his hand as Severin’s had, which is a funny thought,
and he barely has to touch himself at all before his face scrunches up and he
can feel himself pulsing the way his brother had.
He gasps quietly, fingers falling from out of Severin’s mouth at that, and
saliva drags down the boy’s cheek unconsciously, before he falls back. He ends
up laying on his back again, his hand out of his pants, and he stares up at the
ceiling in awe, because he’s never felt anything like that before, not in his
whole life.
It’s weird and strange, and he’s not sure why they never tried that before if
it feels that good—and he hopes that it felt as good for Severin as it did for
him—and he finds he really liked that, wanting to know when they’ll be able to
do it again. But at the same time, he feels odd about it, slightly embarrassed.
Should they have done that? Is what they did wrong? What even was it? Is
Severin okay? Did he accidentally hurt his brother at all?
Of course, while he stares in steadily growing anguish at the ceiling above
their heads, he feels Severin’s lips and tongue find his fingers again,
sloppily licking them clean of all the fluid—a hand on his wrist to keep him
from jerking away—and he has to turn his head to look. Severin looks so sweet
like that, with his eyes wide and innocent, a content smile on his face as he
cleans both of Sebastian’s hands.
He has that urge to kiss him again, and he gives in immediately, using the hand
in Severin’s mouth to pull him downwards, pecking at the sides of his mouth and
then at his lips. Severin purrs against him, their lips separating as he rubs
his face against Sebastian’s, and moves to wrap around him again.
One of his arms curls around Sebastian’s waist as he buries his face into his
brother’s neck, lips pressing instinctively to his pulse, and a leg works its
way between Sebastian’s to lay there contentedly.
It’s the way they used to sleep when they were younger, and he probably should
send Severin back to his side of the bed, but he’s tired now, and it feels good
to have his brother’s warm body wrapped around his, not to mention how sleepy
and content he feels. It doesn’t seem to matter what state both of their sleep
pants are in, because Severin is warm and soft, and he works a hand under the
boy’s body, tugging him closer.
“I love you, Rin,” he whispers to the boy, and the only response he gets is
Severin nuzzling closer to him, nose tickling his skin. Severin’s fallen asleep
already, and Sebastian closes his eyes as well.
He’s less worried now, about Severin. Though there’s still that same knot in
his belly that makes him feel mildly unpleasant, but he tries to push that
away, with his arm hooked around Severin’s body, holding him in place.
It isn’t long before he falls asleep as well, their chests moving up and down
slowly in perfect sync. And it’s safe here like this, in his brother’s arms,
where they don’t have to worry about anything. Not like this, not when they’re
together. They’re safe together.
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