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Thrass was slammed back against the wall hard enough to knock the wind out of him, his breathless groan muffled almost immediately into his brother’s mouth.
Thrawn’s hands were at the fastenings of his tunic before he’d even managed to catch his breath again, nipping teeth sharp on his lips, tongue hot and slick and demanding in his mouth. Deft fingers undressed him quickly; his and Thrawn’s short, panting breaths mingling, the stiff heat of Thrawn’s blatant arousal rubbing along the line of his hip with his brother’s needy, jerky half-thrusts against him.
His long jacket slipped from his shoulders and fell to the floor, followed a mere second or two later by his softer undershirt; and the next thing Thrass knew, he was being pushed face-down onto Thrawn’s bed. He couldn’t help the low moan, almost a whine, that escaped him into the covers as the bed dipped from Thrawn kneeling over him. Need was already throbbing hot through his core as he squirmed and wriggled to help Thrawn finish stripping him; need that he knew mirrored Thrawn’s own. He could hear it in his brother’s ragged breathing; could feel it in Thrawn’s movements as he straddled the backs of Thrass’ thighs while yanking his own trousers open and stripping his uniform tunic off over his head to toss it unceremoniously to the floor.
Thrass shivered, trembling, nearly whimpering as Thrawn settled down onto him on all fours, his brother’s body pinning him firmly to the hard mattress and Thrawn’s breath ghosting hot and humid up the bare skin of his back.
He heard the low, almost feral growl welling up in Thrawn’s throat as his brother reached his neck and licked a long, wet stripe up his skin, Thrawn’s erection rock hard and grinding into the cleft of his ass from behind. A heartbeat later, Thrass twitched with a gasp, a burning, tingling wave of goosebumps flashing across his bare flesh as Thrawn scraped sharp teeth over his neck and sniffed him, pinning his wrists to the bed next to his shoulders.
“Who was it this time?” Thrawn asked, and his voice was already raw and strained, no trace of his usual coldly clipped, precise speech remaining.
Thrass squirmed, futilely, under his brother’s weight, panting hard into the thin covers; his straining cock trapped downwards between his thighs and not even caught under him where he could at least rut against the mattress. Thrawn knew who it had been; he’d been there.
He wanted to hear Thrass say it anyway.
“Form— Aristocra Chaf’orm’bintrano.”
Thrawn growled again, louder, and thrust harder against him; teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh of Thrass’ neck and his cock rubbing hot and sticky against Thrass’ skin.
“You taste like him.”
“Yeah, he’s—” Thrass groaned, still trying to buck his hips; back into Thrawn or forward into the bed, he couldn’t tell— “he’s a mouthy one. In more ways than—”
He cut off in a gasp, a sharp flare of mingled pleasure and pain lancing through his core and going straight to his cock as his brother’s hand fisted hard in his hair and pulled his head back.
“Not for long, you won’t,” Thrawn hissed, as though Thrass hadn’t even answered; then reached down and pushed straight into him with a grunt.
A helpless moan tore from Thrass’ throat and he buried his face into his brother’s pillow with a full-body shudder, Thrawn’s cock filling him perfectly with thick, stiff heat. He was still slick and wanting from letting Formbi take him earlier that evening— slipping away from the dull gathering and out onto the grounds for a quickie in the dark, knowing Thrawn would be watching them go and knowing exactly how much his brother disliked the politician— and Thrawn slid home easily, sinking to the hilt in one thrust.
His brother didn’t pause, either, immediately pulling nearly all the way out before slamming right back in with another grunt of effort and an obscene smack of skin on skin. Thrass felt his own cock throb, twitching with need between his thighs again and again while Thrawn hammered into him hard and fast, each thrust driving him down into the mattress.
He could barely move like this, with Thrawn on top of him— and he loved it; both his wrists pinned once more by Thrawn’s bruising grip, Thrawn’s hips pounding against his ass and his brother’s cock hard and heavy as it filled him over and over again, until he couldn’t think past the sound of his blood roaring in his ears and the urgent, burning need coiling tighter in his gut. He might have been begging, he wasn’t sure; and then Thrawn’s fingers were tangling tight in his hair again, his brother’s snarl vibrating against his back as Thrawn bit his neck, hard, and Thrass finally tipped over the edge with a broken howl. Release crashed through him in whitehot, shuddering waves, his cock pulsing again and again, coating his own legs and the bedcover under him in hot, sticky spurts of come.
Thrawn fucked him through it and out the other side, panting breaths coming faster in hot gasps against Thrass’ stinging flesh while Thrass twitched through the aftershocks with little hitched sobs of pleasure and pain, the boneless relief of orgasm and the twitchy overstimulation and the familiar debauched thrill of fucking his own brother all mixed together within him. He could feel Thrawn’s tension nearing the breaking point despite the blissful fog of sensation clouding his mind, his brother’s grip tightening on him, those quick hard thrusts going jerky and desperate and uncoordinated—
With a strained gasp; an explosive grunt that might have been Thrass’ name, Thrawn slammed into him one last time. Thrass moaned wordlessly as Thrawn came in him in a burst of muted heat, his brother’s hips flush against his ass and twitching in convulsive little not-quite-thrusts, heavy cock pulsing even hotter and harder inside him.
It felt like forever and no time at all before Thrawn was done, slumping bonelessly on Thrass’ back, the air filled with the sound of their harsh, ragged breathing and the smell of sweat and come. Slowly coming back to himself, Thrass groaned and shifted. He was, rather suddenly, acutely aware of the slickness between his thighs and the wet prickle of both his and Thrawn’s sweat on his skin; of his aching, quivering muscles and the damp spot under his cheek where he’d drooled all over Thrawn’s pillow without noticing.
Thrawn shifted with him without pulling out, rolling them onto their sides so they could shuffle backwards together and off the sweat-damp, come-spattered bedding. As his brother’s arms wrapped securely around his shoulders and chest and Thrawn nuzzled a single, mumbled word into the back of his neck, Thrass sighed, content.
Mine.
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