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Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me	By : RosaTenebrum Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 3449 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Dragonlance series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me
- 1
The story is set during The Soulforge, around the twins' sixteenth year. I lifted some quotes from the said book.
Warnings: incest, minor bloodplay, bromance in general

Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill M
"We were close. No one knows how close."
- Caramon Majere, The Legacy -
It's the scariest thing Caramon has ever seen or heard. They sleep peacefully until sometime in the middle of the night, when Raistlin suddenly sits bolt upright in his bed and starts to scream. Caramon senses it just a second before it actually happens; the depths of his slumber turn ice cold and force him to rise to the waking surface. Still half asleep, he dashes out of his bed, stumbling to his feet as fast as he can, and runs to his brother.
Raistlin doesn't even see him. His blind gaze focused on something only he can see, Raistlin stares blankly through Caramon while bloodcurdling shrieks make his whole body tremble like a dead leaf in the wind.
It's been happening for years and so it's more of a rule than an exception, but it still upsets Caramon to the core. Grabbing Raistlin by the shoulders and shaking him very gently, Caramon calls for his twin, terribly afraid that he won't hear him ever again. But when he pulls him close and encircles him with his strong arms, Raistlin returns from somewhere far away and starts to call out his name, pleading Caramon not to leave him, asking him to make them go away. "I'm right here, Raist," Caramon whispers in his ear. "I won't ever leave you. They... They're gone now. They won't harm you, I promise. No one. Ever. No. Never."
These are the words he keeps repeating in a faint attempt to encourage himself as well as Raistlin. And who knows, perhaps there is some plain power in his simple mantra, for after a while Raistlin's horror slowly disintegrates. He calms down and hides his face against Caramon's shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. Raistlin does not want his brother to see his weakness, but Caramon knows he is crying, because his whole body is shuddering slightly. Overcome with compassion, he buries his face in Raistlin's hair and strokes his back, mumbling tender words of consolation, anything that comes to his mind.
How frail Raistlin is. Frowning with worry, Caramon gently feels his brother's bony spine through his shirt and then lets his hand slide up to his pointy shoulder blades. But Raistlin stiffens under his probing touch, and, feeling strangely embarrassed, Caramon stops, afraid that Raistlin might get angry and tell him to go back to his own bed.
The thing is, he does not want to go. Raistlin is so warm in his arms, sweetly hot and soothing - lying there together with him makes Caramon feel whole inside and filled with pure, peaceful contentment. Gods know he could hold Raistlin like this for hours, giving comfort and receiving it, driving away the faceless demons of Raistlin's dreams with the power of his love. Breathing in the scent of his brother's auburn hair, Caramon closes his eyes and listens to the rain patter on the roof. The world around them sleeps, and in the darkness they fold into each other like broken wings.
It is still dark when Caramon opens his eyes, feeling cold all of a sudden; he must have dozed off for a while, but he doesn't know how much time has passed. The warmth in his arms is gone - he blinks the sleep from his eyes and sees Raistlin sitting right beside him, leaning his back against the wall. Rubbing his stiff neck, Caramon starts to explain, "Gee, Raist, I think I just fell -"
"Caramon."
Caramon falls silent immediately. When Raistlin uses that certain tone of voice, he knows he'd better shut up. "Y-yeah?" he asks obediently.
"I was just wondering," Raistlin says after a while, sounding funny somehow, uncommonly insecure. He clears his throat, and when Caramon casts a curious glance at him, he frowns uneasily, looking so concerned that Caramon gets scared. "Raist, what's the matter?"
"Nothing, brother," Raistlin answers and turns his head away, speaking so silently that Caramon can hardly hear him. "I was just wondering how is it like to... to be with a girl."
First, Caramon is astonished at the unexpected question, and right after that pleasantly surprised. Finally! How many times has he wished he could introduce some of his girlfriends to Raistlin? So that they could all have a great time together? How many times has he had to apologize to the girls after Raistlin has coldly rejected them? Not anymore! "Being with a girl is lots of fun," he hastens to explain enthusiastically. "Believe me. You never talk to any of them, and there's more than one who thinks you're pretty special."
The rain taps cozily at the window as Caramon waits for his brother's answer, already making plans about who would be the ideal girl for him. His nonchalant dreams come to an abrupt end, however, when he hears Raistlin's pallid, slightly irritated voice say, "I'm not talking about talking, you nitwit."
Caramon stares at him, suddenly afraid of what is to come.
And then Raistlin says it. "How is it like to... fuck them?"
Stunned, Caramon draws in a sharp breath. "Wh-what?"
"You heard me."
Yes, unfortunately. Caramon is glad it's so dark in the room, otherwise Raistlin would certainly see him blush like a bashful maiden and, undoubtedly, make fun of it. Caramon clears his throat in panic, trying to win time to come up with something even remotely sensible to say.
"Well, it's..." he stammers and trails off, unnerved by the expectant silence, before finally managing to blurt out, "It's nice, I guess."
"You guess?" Raistlin returns with a hint of amusement. "I think we both know you do more than just guess."
Feeling cornered, Caramon stares down at his hands, completely red in the face. "Mmmmmaybe."
"Maybe? That's not what I heard."
"Uh... What did you hear?"
"That you're the biggest whore in the town."
The word hits Caramon like a hammer. Slightly hurt by the trace of contempt in his brother's voice, he remains silent.
"If that's true," Raistlin insists, ignoring the brooding silence, "I think it's only plausible that you could answer my question, dear brother."
"Name of the Abyss, Raist!" Caramon returns, trying to keep the irritation from creeping into his voice. "You should try for yourself, if you're so interested. I told you you need a girl, didn't I, just the other morning."
Raistlin snorts despisingly. "I am not interested," he spits, emphasizing every word and sounding so angry all of a sudden that even Caramon can see he has clearly hit a nerve. "I have better things to do - can't you get that through your thick gully-dwarf skull?"
"Then why are you asking?" Caramon snaps, losing patience over the awkward topic.
He regrets his tone immediately. "I... I'm sorry, Raist," he stutters, hoping that Raistlin is not mad at him. "I mean, you really should try. Like I said, there's more than one girl who thinks you're quite interesting. Because of the magic and so forth."
His encouragement is received with a doubtful, wounded silence from Raistlin. "Really?" he asks in an uncharacteristically shy voice.
"Why, really. Lucy said she thought you were cute."
"Caramon, I have ears. What she said was that your baby brother was cute."
"But, Raist, she didn't know. I explained to her that we're twins, and after that she... Well, after that she said some other things."
"Like?"
"Uh, just some silly things. She just wanted to have a laugh with the other girls on my account or something." He shrugs. "Women."
"Tell me."
"Awwwww, Raist."
"What? You ask me to tell you something, anything, and I tell you. You know that."
"Well. She said that she'd like to see for herself if we really are, um, twins. Something like that." Caramon blushes again and wrings his hands nervously, inwardly remembering Lucy's exact words. "You know what I mean."
He gives his brother a quick sideways glance and sees that Raistlin too is rather embarrassed over the girl's obscenity. He adds quickly, "So I... I think what she meant was, she'd be pleased to... to see you. Lucy, I mean."
"She most certainly won't", Raistlin returns coldly. Then, in a strangely breathless voice, he says, "It looks like you're going to have to be my teacher."
Caramon throws another quick glance at his brother, and suddenly a hot wave washes over him, bringing with it some weird thoughts that he does not have the courage to think through.
Trying to thrust the uncomfortable images from him, Caramon scratches his head and wonders where to start. He does not want to explain this, not particularly, but he knows he will, for he never says no to his twin. And when he ponders it for a moment, his embarrassment fades away - after all, telling Raistlin is like telling himself.
"I've noticed," he says after a small eternity as casually as he can, "that many girls kind of want it... from... from behind." It sounds sort of awful when he says it, and he knows it may not be the best way to start, but it's still better than nothing.
An awkward silence falls between them, which Raistlin is the first to break. He tries to sound composed, but Caramon can hear he's having a hard time keeping his voice stable. It trembles quite badly, actually, as he commands, "Go on."
And Caramon does. Blushing and faltering, careful not to glance at Raistlin, he gives him a lesson in lovemaking as best as he can, although he's not particularly good at talking or using sophisticated turns of sentence, which is exactly why he always lets Raistlin speak for them both in complicated situations. But now, for once, he can be the one in control, and, amazingly enough, he notices Raistlin is eagerly clinging to his every word instead of just sneering or rolling his eyes at him.
After a pretty vivid description of his night with Loreena, Caramon has to stop, however. It was impossible to discuss these things without getting a bit carried away in the process. Worried that his excitement might show, he shifts his position on the bed, and while he does so, it just so happens that his hand accidentally brushes against Raistlin's.
At the instant of the unintended touch, something clouds Caramon's reason. In the spur of the moment, he turns to his brother and puts his hands on his shoulders, thinking that maybe being a good teacher means showing and not just telling. "Caramon, what -" Raistlin starts to say in a startled voice, but Caramon silences him by pressing his lips against those of his twin. It is a very chaste kiss - his lips are tightly closed - but he pulls away soon enough and looks at Raistlin fearfully, certain that now, if ever, he will kick him out of the bed in anger.
Raistlin doesn't. He only stares at Caramon and frowns deeply for a moment, but then his frown melts into a look so puzzled and scared that a painful love spears Caramon's heart like an arrow. Reaching out his hand, he brushes back the sweaty hair from Raistlin's forehead, tucking some wild strands behind his ear. Raistlin tilts his head and looks at him intrigued but wary, with his lips slightly parted. He is nothing short of beautiful, and an amazed, confused thought fills Caramon's mind: Mine. My own.
Filled with overflowing tenderness, Caramon hugs his brother close. Raistlin's frail body is tense and uptight, and Caramon can feel his heart beating anxiously against his chest, but when he kisses his dry lips again, very softly, Raistlin relaxes - their teeth clash together clumsily and Raistlin's hazy laughter tickles Caramon's lips. It is the most wonderful sound in the world, and Caramon takes it as a sign to go on. He does not need to stop; Raistlin does not want him to, and Raistlin always knows best.
Hesitating only for a moment, Caramon gently lies his brother down on the bed and bends over him, stroking his shoulders and chest, placing little, innocent kisses on his jaw. Raistlin's eyes are shut like he's afraid to open them and he is exhaling slowly; Caramon tries not to be too eager so as to not scare him into resistance. He looks down and is rather astonished at the feelings which come when he sees Raistlin's strained pants: the confused mixture of his memories of the girls he's just talked about and the doing of a strictly forbidden thing make an enormous bolt of desire to run down his body.
To Caramon's infinite joy, Raistlin takes the initiative; timidly he starts to explore the corners of Caramon's mouth and moves his hand to Caramon's back, rubbing between his shoulders. His nimble fingers dance up and down his spine, and when his burning fingertips find their way underneath his shirt, Caramon finally lets out the aroused cry he has been holding back for fear of sounding too eager.
Raistlin continues to explore him, harder and rougher now - he forces his mouth open and slides his tongue inside, running it along the back of Caramon's teeth, sucking slightly on his lips and tongue, creating waves of intense pleasure that evoke smothered moans from Caramon. His arousal is no longer deniable - it is thick and heavy, it is dark and perfect and completely different than with any of the girls he's been with. Those girls - as much as he likes to have fun with them, he is not in love with them. Raistlin is and always will be his endless first love, and Caramon knows he would give up anything for this.
Raistlin's lips move over his jawline and find his earlobe. He moans faintly in Caramon's ear; the sound travels downwards straight to the bottom of Caramon's soul and makes the hair on his arms and neck stand up. Gods, he knows they should not be doing this, he knows he is loving his twin like he shouldn't be - except in his dreams where the agony of wanting him but not daring to show it becomes extinct.
Agitated, Caramon seizes Raistlin's lips again, almost losing himself in the fiery passion that's taken a total control of his mind and body. His breathing comes in short gasps as he pulls Raistlin even tighter against him, grinding his erection into his hard hips, almost angry at Raistlin for making him want him this way.
Step by step do their fumbling caresses turn harder and faster. Raistlin's lips are on Caramon's neck now; his fingers dig into his hair and Caramon groans in surprise as Raistlin's teeth suddenly scrape over the sensitive skin of his throat, sucking and bruising. Provoked by the unexpected pain, Caramon grabs Raistlin's hands and slowly but insistently forces them up over his head, pressing his body tightly against Raistlin's. Raistlin wriggles and writhes under him, and for an instant Caramon thinks he's probably going to break his frailer twin, that they should be the other way around, but his worried thoughts are soon scattered by the intense bolts of pleasure that shoot through him as he rubs his crotch against Raistlin's thigh, all the while holding his hands helplessly over his head. Raistlin's breath trembles; he utters a little shallow gasp and a muffled curse every time Caramon makes a shift. He sounds like he's in pain, but there is deep, demanding pleasure mingled with it, and hearing it turns Caramon on even more.
Suddenly a sharp pain pierces through the fog of desire - Raistlin bites down hard on his neck, sending Caramon into rapturous moaning. He buries his face in the curve of Raistlin's neck and shakes; pain and pleasure walk hand in hand, and Caramon no longer knows whether they are loving or killing each other or perhaps both at the same time. In an echo of his brother's actions, he opens his mouth and scratches the smooth skin of Raistlin's neck with his teeth, immediately tasting the salty scarlet - his own blood, the same blood. Raistlin answers with a ragged exhalation, clutching at Caramon's arms and hair; but then he bends his legs and kicks him off of him with an angry snarl.
Raistlin sits up fast and stares at his brother wildly, pressing one hand on his throat and wiping his lips with the back of the other. A frightening mixture of love and hate dances across his eyes for a second.
"What in the name of the Abyss do you think you're doing?" he pants. "I should kill you for that."
"But... You... I'm... s-sorry, Raist," Caramon stammers, painfully ashamed. "I didn't mean... I just thought..."
But Caramon doesn't have time to finish his sentence. Smiling a weird, disturbingly seductive smile, Raistlin locks his arms around his neck and pulls him down again to lie on his side so that they can face each other. Then he takes Caramon's head between his hands and, still smiling that strange, expectant, almost cruel smile, nibbles softly on his ear, breathing and whispering, "Do it again. Do it again, you big idiot. Show me."
"Raist," Caramon whispers, deeply touched, not knowing what else to say. He doesn't think Raistlin has ever been this gentle and patient with him before - he has never made him feel this wanted and needed, this - equal. The tenderness wells up in Caramon, and it's unbearable; his soul seems to slip away from him and fly out into Raistlin. Again their lips meet, devouring the sweetness of each other, and the two of them become wrapped together like once in the womb where it was impossible to tell where one left off and the other began.
Sweet as it is, they eventually have to stop to breathe. On impulse, Caramon grabs Raistlin's hair in his fist and bends his head gently backwards to see his face. This is perhaps the only situation in which he hasn't seen his twin before, at the moment of extreme physical bliss, and he smiles at the beauty of it. There is a serious, intent expression upon Raistlin's face - his eyes are tightly closed and he frowns in concentration at the sensations that come when Caramon slips his hand under his shirt and runs a finger over his heaving chest.
If only they could see Raistlin now, all those people who thought they knew him and said he was cold and unfeeling. I know him, Caramon thinks as their fingers entwine, I'm the only one who knows him. And then another ecstatic thought pervades his entire being, I'm the only one who has ever touched him this intimately.
Excited out of his mind by the realization, Caramon holds his twin even tighter, trying to kiss every corner of him, and Raistlin is stinging and tender as a poisoned rose thorn when his fingernails bore into Caramon's shoulders, causing horrible pain and insane pleasure that Caramon wants to remember for the rest of his life. If they will never touch each other like this again, he wants to savor every single detail and keep the feel of Raistlin's lips and tongue, the taste of his skin and scent forever.
Caramon's hands roam blindly over Raistlin's fragile body, stroking his side, caressing his tangled, sweaty hair. Unable to stop himself, he takes Raistlin's hand and slides it under the waistband of his pants, guiding Raistlin down until his fingers find his hard member. "Please," he stammers as he feels Raistlin smile against his neck, his breath hot on his collarbone, "Raist, let me touch you. Please." And when Raistlin mumbles "Yes, dear", his voice is filled with such rare warmth that it brings tears to Caramon's eyes.
Taking Caramon's hand in turn, Raistlin leads it down to his groin and lets out a breathy cry when Caramon starts to stroke his length, clumsily at first but then more firmly, encouraged by Raistlin's appreciative sighs of pleasure. Trembling with arousal more intense than he has ever known, Caramon presses his lips against his brother's forehead, murmuring something incoherent, profoundly touched that he has finally found a way to please his often irascible twin.
For a short moment their eyes meet and they exchange a look of fundamental understanding. If there are any final doubts in Caramon's mind, the determination in Raistlin's movements makes them fly away. "Please... Don't... Don't stop," Caramon gasps, hardly able to form a coherent sentence. So what if they break a couple of rules? Raistlin is everything he sees and everything he feels as they caress each other in the silent, rainy night, slowly working their way towards the top - together, as ever.
As the growing heat starts to reach unbearable heights, Caramon closes his eyes, fully lost in the dark net of arousal in the arms of the only person he would die for. There is nothing left of Raistlin's earlier insecurity and inexperience - he is handling Caramon like no one before, rough and merciless, forcing him to abandon his efforts to be gentle and careful. His frantic movements are making Caramon feel sensations he never knew even existed and he breathes out in ecstasy, "Raist, I... I love -" but his words turn into a hoarse cry. The thunder cracks above them as he comes like never before; his head fills with blinding light, and somewhere in the distance he can feel Raistlin buck against his hand, filling it with warm liquid.
For a while they lay motionless with their foreheads pressed together, struggling to catch their breath. After a gradual recovery, Caramon opens his eyes and sees Raistlin do the same. There seem to be no appropriate words, so they just watch each other in silence, which is occasionally broken by the roaring thunder outside. Caramon smiles at his brother and gives a little embarrassed chuckle; he is happy to the point of giddiness, though still a bit puzzled about how they ended up like this, with their hands down each other's pants, by Paladine; Raistlin does not smile, but his blue eyes are unusually kind and affectionate as they gaze into Caramon's.
Then all of a sudden an awful coldness creeps into Raistlin's eyes and drives away the warmth. His face distorts in anger and he draws away from Caramon as if repelled by him. Wiping his hand in his brother's shirt, he turns over and says, "Get back to your own bed."
Caramon can't bring himself to move. He only lays still, staring at Raistlin's back in pleading silence. Raistlin's shirt is soaked with sweat as is the back of his neck, and for a moment Caramon has a terrible urge to kiss him there. He wants nothing more but to take him in his arms for the rest of the night and fall asleep with his chest against his back. Is that too much to ask? Maybe if he just kept silent, he could -
"Back to bed, Caramon."
"But, Raist, can't I -"
"No."
Dejected, Caramon gets up and starts toward the bed, very slowly so as to give Raistlin some time to change his mind. He would give anything to hear Raistlin say it, but he already knows he won't.
With a sigh, Caramon crawls back into his own, cold bed and pulls the blanket over his body that is still pulsating with sweet, forbidden languor. His neck and throat ache badly in several spots - it must look as bad or even worse than Raistlin's. Grimacing, he touches the bruises with the tips of his fingers, wondering what will they explain to their friends tomorrow. Tanis is not stupid; he will not ask anything, but he'll think of everything. But Tas - Caramon groans in agony - Tas will ask everything and think of nothing.
On the other hand, what does it matter? Seeing the bottomless love reflected in Raistlin's eyes, just hearing him call him his dear was worth anything. Besides, Caramon thinks adoringly, Raistlin is so sharp-witted and eloquent that he can divert the kender's attention to something else with a mere snap of his fingers. He won't have to worry about those things when Raistlin is around. And he always will be.
Caramon lies awake for a long time. Once or twice he is about to call out to Raistlin, but swallows his words every time. His brother is lying so still on the other side of the room that Caramon cannot tell if he's gone back to sleep or not. Perhaps he is only pretending in order to be left in peace.
While slowly drifting to sleep to the sound of the rain, Caramon lets his drowsy mind wander back to what happened, remembering every touch and expression, every soft groan and bittersweet bite. His last thought before falling into slumber is determinate, dangerous - I cannot think of a life without him. I will sacrifice anything for him.
Anything. Even the girl he has started to think very fondly of just lately, in spite of her ugly freckles. Never mind the fact that she always looks him deep in the eyes and laughs warmly at his quite lousy jokes. The way the light caresses her red hair is so pretty, too - it makes her hair seem like pure fire, and it almost burns Caramon's aching heart to ashes.
Almost.
THE END
^p^p
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Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me