Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

The World of Man	By : psychocatblah Category: A through F > Dark is Rising Views: 1790 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dark is Rising, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
The couch wasn't any more comfortable the next night, which left Will to a light sleep and tormented dreams. There was so much on his mind and he was so frustrated with what this was doing to his friendship with Bran. Even if he couldn't have him for all that he wanted, he knew that he needed him as his friend. Now, in Bran's time of need, Will was failing.
He'd just rolled over to hide his face against the back of the couch when he heard a loud thud and the sound of angry voices. Will was to his feet in a flash and dashing in the direction of the noise, which he thought was from Bran's bedroom.
It had gone quiet again but for a low squeak of springs that sounded like someone getting back into bed. The door was shut and Will hadn't begged entrance. He wasn't sure if he should now. He stood with his hand outstretched to the fake brass knob of the door, debating what to do when he heard Bran's voice again.
"Look, I said to quit that. You'll be back outside if you-- Hey! Stop!"
Will flung open the door to find Mordred in Bran's bed, lying on his side, pressed against Bran. The covers moved over Mordred's hand, which rested between Bran's legs. On seeing Will in the room, Mordred leered and redoubled his efforts, moving his hand faster.
In response, Bran flung Mordred out of the bed with a loud thud, the same one Will heard moments ago. Bran's eyes never left Will's. They were defiant, but scared, as if he feared that he'd crossed some invisible line that would turn their fight into a loss forever.
"Get out, boy," shouted Mordred, his yellow eyes narrowed with implied threat.
"This isn't your room to ask me out of," said Will evenly.
"This is Bran's room and he's asked you to leave the farm time enough!" Mordred shoved Will back out of the room, bouncing him against the wall.
"Don't!" Bran shouted, leaping from the bed to tackle Mordred to the floor. "Don't you even touch him."
In full fury, Will could see Herne and Arthur in Bran. He embodied the swift decisiveness and the ferocious loyalty. Catching his breath, Will rubbed the back of his head. "It's all right, Bran. I'm all right."
Already Bran had Mordred pinned to the floor, his knees stuck painfully into his thighs and his hands pushing Mordred's wrists down. Bran was so livid that he was trembling with it. Never had Will felt so honored, so valued by another person; in an odd way, he was deeply touched. Still, he was worried about what might happen to Bran should this go further.
"But you hate him! He hurt you," Mordred protested.
"I never said I hated him. I just said he hurt me. Don't... don't touch him," said Bran. He peeled off of Mordred carefully. "I think you should go, Mordred."
"I'm your family. What you need now is family, not a friend who would hurt you in your time of tribulation," said Mordred.
"Will is my family as much as Owen was," said Bran quietly, keeping his face carefully turned away from Will.
Will was astonished to hear that. Before all of this happened, he would have thought so, but given all that had happened, he'd had doubts. He allowed himself a small smile before stepping back into the room, slipping past the two to claim his territory back.
"I am your blood," Mordred insisted, but Bran was gentling him out the door, patting his shoulder as he held the doorframe, his hand an irresistible force as he moved him to the hallway.
"I understand you believe that," said Bran patiently, as if he believed Mordred to be addled. "This makes what you were doing even more inappropriate. You'll understand that I don't want you sleeping in my room."
Without waiting for an answer, Bran shut the door and leaned against it as if he thought Mordred was going to fight him. He looked warily at Will and gave him a nod of greeting, and then dropped his gaze to the hardwood floor. "I guess I should let you explain," said Bran.
Will smiled for the first time in days and sat on the bed. He patted the spot next to him for him to sit, which Bran took with little hesitation. "Thank you," said Will as he reached out to push the fluff of Bran's hair back from his face affectionately. "Let me figure out where to start."
After sharing a smile, Will looked down to try and sort his thoughts, trying to put together what to say and how to say it. He should've rehearsed. He knew it was coming, but he didn't know where to start now. When he looked up, Bran was staring intently at him. Before he knew it, he was engaged in another kiss. This one wasn't a question, it was a command. Bran's will was that they were going to kiss, and there was no stopping it.
Will closed his eyes to receive it, enjoying the play of Bran's callused fingers on his jaw, the way they directed him and held him in place, as if Bran expected a fight. Deep down, Will knew he should be fighting, that he should put up a protest.
The information was so very germane to why he couldn't allow this to happen, and yet, all he could manage was a low moan when Bran drew his bottom lip into his mouth, flicking his tongue and suckling gently as his other arm curled around Will's body. He was completely drawn into the warmth and the neediness. He brought his hands up to slide over Bran's broad shoulders, sliding his fingertips down his bare chest.
Maybe he could allow himself this much. He could indulge in the fantasy that this could be, letting it happen for now and hope that it was just Bran's loneliness that had driven him to this. After he explained why it couldn't happen again, perhaps they could reflect on this happily, knowing at least there was this time.
Or, perhaps he'd just lose everything that mattered to him.
Bran was pushing him gently against the bed and Will tried to balk, tried to force himself to stop this before they went too far. But then, he wanted it, wanted this, wanted to have Bran balancing his weight between Will's legs and on one arm as he stared down at him intently. All he could do was stare back, pulse racing and breath loud and heady as he tried to rationalize how he could have this.
He knew he should speak now, to start telling the story, but as if Bran could read his thoughts, he kissed him again, thrusting his hips forward so that his prick ground against Will's thigh. Holding Bran tightly, he worked his hips against the rocking motion. The friction between their bodies was intense, not just because it felt good, but because this was Bran. His Bran.
This need was so human, but very real, and Will couldn't deny it. He knew that this could ruin their friendship forever, but as he ran his hands over Bran's smooth back, he knew he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop. Their movements made it difficult to breathe, as the efforts were taxing and they abandoned kissing in favor of loud gasps and needy whimpers.
Will was possessed of the need to touch Bran, to slide his hands down the back of his flannel pyjama pants to squeeze his arse. He pulled him forward, directing his thrusts against the crux of his thigh harder, feeling hipbones digging into him with bruising strength and the uncomfortable pain of Bran's cock pushing so hard against him.
"Touch me," Bran moaned into Will's ear. His breath was humid and seemed to swirl in his ear, lingering with its demand and soft promise.
As if it were a spell that Will could not refuse, he brought his hand around under the elastic of the pyjama pants and dragged his fingertips over Bran's length. He'd never touched another man's cock and he was now mesmerized by the feeling of it. His hand was mashed between them, making it feel heavy, yet the skin was still pliant, warm and incredibly soft.
Will was glad he didn't have to make such a request of Bran. He wasn't sure he'd have the nerve. But nearly immediately after he'd started to touch Bran, Bran's hand was on him, fingers circling him and pulling, and after that it didn't take long before he was spilling over Bran's fingers. Bran followed with a husky exclamation of pleasure, leaving Will's hand wet and his body tingling and weightless.
Bran's kisses were wetter now and significantly less coordinated. They were punctuated with heaving breaths and soft sighs as his body slowly melted against Will's until he bore Bran's full weight. When Bran pulled his hand from him and wiped his leavings off on the side of the mattress, Will took a deep breath to prepare to speak.
There were likely better times for this, but at the rate he was going, they were rather few and far between. "I need to tell you this, and I need you to listen, Bran."
Rolling off of Will, Bran lay on his side and grinned at him lazily. "All right, I suppose you've earned the right to say what you wanted to. Can't imagine what you think you're hiding from me after that, though."
It was then that Will realized how blindsided Bran was really going to be by this. Obviously, he thought there was something else on Will's mind, probably to do with sexuality. At this point, he rather wished that it was as seemingly uncomplicated as that. There was nothing for it, though. Bran had to know. Mustering up his courage, as well as his intent to break the enchantment that Bran had on him to block the memories of the circumstances in which they'd really become friends, Will drew in a long breath. "What you remember about us... what you think was just us playing games... it was all real."
Bran looked at Will and snickered. "Right, Will. That's..."
The dawning realization was clear on Bran's features as the enchantment broke. Will swallowed hard, watching the revelations washing over him in slow waves. Were Will less familiar with Bran, he might've overlooked the flinches and quiet twitches that informed his countenance. As it was, all Will could do was lovingly slide his fingers over Bran's arm to remind him that he was still there.
"Oh," said Bran quietly. He looked lost, and then his brows furrowed and he finally looked at Will with his head tilted. "But I... gave it all up."
Bran was working out the relevance on his own and said, "Mordred. He's... he is really my brother."
Will nodded.
After giving the door a disgusted look, Bran turned his attention to Will. "And you're not exactly human."
"I'm human, Bran. I'm just...."
Bran nodded and rubbed his forehead. "Which I was, but am not anymore."
"Right. That's the gist of it, but that's not where it ends."
"Obviously not, if Mordred's here." Bran exhaled and rolled onto his back, relinquishing all physical contact with Will.
Bereft of contact, Will tried not to take it personally. Obviously, Bran just needed to work things out. "There's that, but also, you have a unique destiny. You're Arthur's son, even if you're not part of High Magic anymore. Your destiny is to lead."
Bran huffed in a derisive way. "I lead sheep, Will. I have a farm. I am no Arthur."
"You can't lead sheep, Bran. You've a bigger destiny than that. You have a destiny like your father's. You have to lead people, just like you were studying to do." Will rolled onto his side, resting his chin on his hand as he stared at Bran, who was still looking up at the ceiling.
"I haven't the money to go to school even if I didn't have this farm to look after. I don't suppose destiny could float me a loan?"
Will laughed and rolled his eyes. If Bran was making jokes, he was taking it well. "It will work out somehow. That's the way destiny is."
"Yeah." Bran didn't sound convinced, but he sat up and pulled the covers over them both. Will took it as an invitation to stay there. Will was relieved and pleased. Maybe he'd worried for nothing. "We'll see," said Bran.
"There will likely be a trial, though. You cannot trust Mordred. He came to claim your birthright and to take whatever power you might still have." Will left out the part where Mordred was trying to seduce him. It was pretty obvious that was part of the plan anyway.
Bran reached over to turn out the lamp. "I won't be talking to him again. It was one thing when I thought he was addled. It's quite another to know the sick pervert was really trying to seduce his own brother."
"I'm sorry," said Will reflexively. He knew it wasn't his fault, but he heard a note of sad weariness in Bran's voice. He scooted closer to him and slipped an arm over Bran's stomach, ignoring the wetness for now. They could clean up in the morning.
"It's not your fault." Bran rolled onto his side to face Will and stretched an arm around his waist.
As much as Will felt like he should probably tell Bran to think of his future political career, right now he needed to hold Bran as much as he needed to be held. "I know. I just... wish they'd've left you alone, is all."
Bran shrugged and closed his eyes; his skin looked blue in the cold light of the gibbous moon that shimmered faintly through the windows. "I'm kind of glad they didn't. We wouldn't be here like this if they hadn't."
Will found himself speechless at that, so he just leaned in to kiss Bran's lips softly and whispered, "Me too."
Stuff it that Bran's future political career would send all of this into a very big closet. Maybe tomorrow Bran would wake up and realize how these two aspects of his life weren't congruent. If this was all they ever shared, it would have to be enough.
- 3
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The World of Man