Work Text:
"Busy night, half-cousin?"
The sound came from the small space between his back and the empty tent of one of his father's supporters. Findekáno swore and jumped to his feet, hand dropping to the hilt of his dagger as he spun on the spot. He'd left his sword in his tent when sneaking off for distance from his family this time. He wished he hadn't been so confident everything was healed between them now.
Tyelkormo laughed at him. He spread his arms wide out, hands empty except for a…wine bottle?—where did they even get wine here?—and two glasses in the right. No weapons hung from his belt. His hair shone scandalously loose in the firelight, flowing over his back and shoulders in that way Maitimo had given up on fixing.
Findekáno watched him. His voice came out colder than intended, wariness a harsh line between them. "Turn."
"Don't trust me?" Tyelkormo raised an eyebrow, tipping his head and making eye contact for a very long, challenging second that sent frissons of danger down Findekáno's spine. Then he laughed again, bright and fey. His face cleared up in a heartbeat and he turned in a slow circle on the spot without another word. He looked… well.
Findekáno's eyes caught on his well-muscled thighs and back, the way the casual tunic and leggings clung—and the absolute lack of any weapon-shaped lumps. He relaxed ever so slightly.
"How did you get here? What do you want?"
"I walked." Before Findekáno could open his mouth, irritation flaring at Tyelkormo's old habit of avoiding real answers, he elaborated. "Your guards are aware they are poorly prepared for this yet simultaneously too relaxed, they jump at shadows while missing the light."
He shrugged. His eyes gleamed over the easy grin, the Treelight granting him a predator's unearthly silver that did notmatch the promise implied by no weapons. "It works against orcs."
Not Eldar, was the unspoken connotation. Findekáno tensed again at the unexpected openness. The pommel of the dagger dug deep into his palm as he considered it, the seeming cooperation at odds with everything else about him. Tyelkormo never shared more than he had to. Not unless he had a goal in mind.
"What do you want?"
His cousin—paused. He inspected him carefully, eyes lingering on the mild favoring of his left arm and right leg after the long flight from Thangorodrim. Findekáno shifted uneasily. His words were measured now, the danger slipping away in favor of a rawness he had only heard directed towards Írissë. "I wanted to speak to you."
"You don't like me."
"Not since we were children, no," Tyelkormo admitted with a shrug. Somehow, that eased Findekáno's mind more than any polite words could. "I've always found you irritating and self-righteous, yet unable to carry through. Empty words and failed promises."
His cousin paused again. This time, his eyes went to Findekáno's own.
“It seems I underestimated you. Not many would have gone so far for someone they were angry with, much less while knowing all of their supporters were both hostile and opposed to the idea."
Findekáno watched him like he might a wild bear he stumbled across in these forests even as his hand unclenched from the dagger. It should have surprised him, Tyelkormo approving when his family were still so angry, but it did not. Tyelkormo had always been contrary. The Elda grinned at him, all unrepentant teeth that glinted sharp in the red light, every ounce the predator that would compliment his prey on surprising him before killing and eating them. He proffered up the bottle and glasses in his hand.
"Wine?"
Findekáno looked the Feanorion up and down. He thought of his light tread, the relative lack of people around them, the tensions between their camps, the comments his sister would make for the rest of his life if he got poisoned by Tyelkormo, the recent arguments that would never improve if they didn't even try—and took the leap. He sat back down, eyebrow raised in that expression he'd stolen from Maitimo. It near always sent their younger siblings into incoherent irritation while actually expressing, at most, moderated distrust. "Is it actually wine?"
Tyelkormo, the shameless irritant who had also grown up close enough in age to them to be immune to it, just winked. "Stole it from Atarinkë myself."
He made a show of it. Balancing the two glasses between the fingers of the same hand, he lifted the bottle high, pouring the deep red wine into one and then the other without spilling a drop. He set the bottle on the table between them with a heavy thunk and offered one of the glasses to him. It glinted like blood in the firelight.
Findekáno took it slowly.
“Why are you here, truly?”
Tyelkormo swirled the glass, eyes fixed on the fire. He took a long sip before replying. He seemed… off. Uncertain. Uncomfortable, even. Findekáno couldn’t remember the last time he’d acted like this, all showmanship stripped away.
“As I said, I underestimated you. You did more than any of us would have despite your anger.” Tyelkormo’s head tilted back towards him, a hint of something flavoring his next words. “I find that admirable.”
Findekáno stared at him. The approval hit on a place he hadn't realized was sore. It was a balm after a full day of his father's worry, his siblings' mixed anger and pride, and the poorly hidden judgement from his father's counselors who hoped Makalaurë would be simpler to deal with as a High King. He'd known his choice would be controversial—but, well, he'd thought someone would acknowledge its strategic importance, if not the personal.
Tyelkormo rolled his eyes dramatically as silence stretched between them. He took a sip of his wine, a hint of that familiar ruthlessness reappeared in how sharp his next words came out. “I do know how to be polite when I want to be, no matter what High King Makalaurë claims.”
The emphasis on the title reeked of arguments they'd missed while on the ice. It came as an unpleasant reminder that Tyelkormo, in all his cruelty, was Crown Prince now. Their world had shifted irreparably even with Maitimo safe, a heavy undercurrent of political power coming with his personal approval to throw Findekáno off even further.
Findekáno cleared his throat, mimicking Tyelkormo's sip to cover his own fluster. The other's slight grin made it clear he was not as successful as he would've liked. “No, I—that was not the pause. I appreciate it, Tyelkormo.”
“Yes, well.” Tyelkormo resettled himself, made all the more obvious with his frame. Then he sniffed, a rapid return to haughtiness that would be jarring from anyone else.“You should. I do not give those out to just anyone.”
“Have you ever apologized to someone other than your siblings?” Findekáno asked. It felt like a rushed diversion from his distraction but he was genuinely curious about the answer.
“Írissë, once.” Tyelkormo flashed Findekáno a conspiratorial smile. “She snuck up on me bathing and I stabbed her. It was a whole mess, running after her soaking and slippery while she’s screaming about how bad my behavior was. Had to pay for her new dress and everything.”
That startled a laugh out of him. A heat rose in his cheeks at the image and he blamed the fire, taking another sip of wine to manage it. “Did you actually stab her?”
“Only a little!” Tyelkormo’s defense was undermined by his wicked glee. “I should’ve aimed for somewhere more painful with how bad the wailing about the clothing became.”
Findekáno shook his head in elder relative disapproval, though his smile refused to be wholly suppressed. “You are terrible.”
“So is she.”
He laughed again, but it trailed off quickly. “I would never want to be separated from her, no matter how much she can be. I cannot imagine—“
“—it was not pleasant. It was not—“ Tyelkormo blinked and fell silent. He swallowed visibly and took another deep drain of wine, emptying his glass and filling it again. His grip was tight. “I will never be that helpless again, no matter what I must do for it.”
Findekáno wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap and offer comfort, but he did not know if Tyelkormo would accept it. He doubted he would. It had never been his way. He’d proven that well enough when he screamed at Findekáno only a few weeks before for daring to suggest Maitimo was reachable. Crown Prince, he thought again, and did not find peace in the idea.
“I am sure you will not, no matter who it hurts.”
For the first time in his memory, his cousin flinched. Tyelkormo drank deeply of the wine, letting an unsettled silence fall between them. He finished his glass and set it down on the table between them. Then he laughed, the sound clearly forced. “Bitter, half-cousin?”
Findekáno watched him carefully. “One apology does not fix all hurts, even if it is a start.”
Tyelkormo looked at him out of the corner of his eye, face deadly serious. There was no hint of a joke in his words. If anything, the glimmer in his eyes was too into the words as they came out. “Want to spank me about it?”
Findekáno choked on his wine. The memory of his occasional youthful fantasies—born from far too many hours of forced socialization where he just wanted Tyelkormo to shut up for two minutes—turned the words from a theoretically innocent jab into a dirty charge. Theoretically. He could feel the heat rising in his face as he coughed into the grass.
Tyelkormo laughed. The sound was true this time, far too charming for such an asshole despite its darker hints. His eyes scanned Findekáno again, slower this time, lingering on his chest and abdomen in a way he could not dismiss as a threat analysis this time. His ears burned.
“Is that a no, then? Pity. You must have strong arms to saw through a limb while balancing on a bird.”
Findekáno coughed again, arm wiping across his mouth to hide some of his expression from Tyelko. It was totally inappropriate to jump from one of these subjects to the other. Completely. Horribly. But as Tyelkormo laughed at him, head thrown back to expose the long, sleek line of his throat, he could not bring himself to care as much as he should.
The idea of his cousin on his back for him was impossible to dismiss now that it had been suggested. All his cruelty and power not only constrained, but willingly offered up for Findekáno's judgement and pleasure. Would he cry if Findekáno did hit him? Would that be enough to make him care?
“You are utterly incorrigible.”
“Am I?” Tyelkormo tilted his head, a fine fall of hair shifting in front of his eyes. He seemed fey in this light, wild and free despite all the restrictions of mortal flesh. Findekáno’s mouth went dry.
“I mean it. The wine isn’t the only way I’d thank you, if you’d like.”
He looked at his broad figure, the firelight shining off his hair, the shadows highlighting his firm brow, and oh, oh he wanted. Tyelkormo had always been beautiful, in a rugged, brutal way. But it had sat awkwardly on him in Valinor, the finery and gentility of a peaceful land constantly sending him running for the Hunt. This place made him worse. It made him gorgeous.
His cousin’s hand landed on his thigh, several inches higher than appropriate. Findekáno shifted in his seat. He looked back at Tyelkormo. Tyelkormo winked.
“And why,” he started slowly, desperately clinging to something to distract from this turn, the thought of Írissë's taunts over dying like that far worse than to the wine, “would I trust you enough for that? After all you’ve done?”
The history of both their families hung between them. Of petty arguments in corners turning into larger fault lines no one dared cross, and blood, and pain, and a frozen wasteland as their relationships changed fundamentally. It added to the unreal feeling here, somehow. To the growing conviction that none of this would impact tomorrow, that he could let it all go back to normal no matter what they did now.
Findekáno had never been very good at that.
He so wanted to hit him.
Tyelkormo grinned. It would have looked completely unrepentant to most. Findekáno was faster than most, quick enough to catch the way his eyes flickered away from him for half a second, a shadow in them that did not match the front Tyelkormo so easily put on. It vanished in the next.
Tyelkormo ran his tongue over sharp teeth and met Findekáno's eyes as if none of that had ever happened. The light in his eyes flashed bright and eager again, accompanied with a tight squeeze to his thigh, and Findekáno’s breath caught in his throat.
“You could punish me for the ships too, if you’d like. Anything at all.”
Findekáno wet his lips. This was a terrible idea. Absolutely horrible. But while Tyelkormo may be a horrible person, he had never known him to lie about it. He was unfailingly proud. He would not let anyone find out he had tried to apologize, or allowed himself to be commanded by another. He would not come back for more.
In all likelihood, he wouldn't even look at Findekáno with anything other than disgust and anger for the next three centuries. It was that more than anything that persuaded him. Tyelkormo wouldn't give a damn. He never did.
Findekáno stood, dislodging Tyelkormo’s hand, and grabbed the wine bottle. He headed for his tent, only turning back halfway through when he didn’t hear footsteps.
“Well? Are you coming?”
Findekáno’s gold-wound braids caught starlight in the dark, a pretty trail to follow even in a war camp. Tyelkormo followed after his cousin without complaint, letting the dark of night cover his pleasure at this outcome. He hadn't really cared when he'd snuck around the lake. A fight or a fuck would have gotten rid of his pent up emotions equally well, but the memory of Findekáno's poorly hidden interest as a youth had called to him. Findekáno was reliable as always. Give him a little vulnerability, a little intrigue, and he would fall into the rest without more than a token protest.
Always so prone to taking dives no one else who respected their kin would under the excuse of helping.
They slipped through the dark without a word, dodging around fires to keep themselves unseen. It worked far better in this camp than the Feanorians' ever would. There were so many other blondes to mimic from a distance, even so closely after someone so obvious. They trusted their assumptions without looking closer so long as his back was turned.
Findekáno stopped outside his tent, arm holding the canvas flap open silently, and Tyelkormo ducked in. It was spacious for a tent. A thin cot wide enough for one person, a chest in the corner, and a circle of packed grass and dirt ground around the center pole. Enough, if he was creative. They’d just have to be quiet with Findekáno’s tent so closely circled by his siblings.
Tyelkormo leaned back against the center pole, arms crossed against his chest, and met Findekáno’s eyes. The Noldo watched him from the entrance still. He’d let the tent flap fall shut behind them, dark eyes inscrutable even with the heat of arousal behind them. Dangerous if he wanted to be. Good.
He let his arms drop slightly, let his eyes flick to the side and then back to Findekáno, the motions a careful cover of vulnerability and defensiveness even as his emotions still lingered. Findekáno would like that. He always wanted a project, someone he thought he could fix. “Well? Going to punish me?”
Findekáno tilted his head. The look in his eyes went straight to Tyelko's cock when he didn't respond, the weight of that little threat near palpable between them. He just walked over to the rickety but neatly made cot and sat down in the middle, placing a hand on the blanket next to him in invitation.
“Come here.”
Tyelkormo did as he was asked, consciously settling his walk into something firmer than his usual light steps. Threatening yet noticeable. The cot dipped under his weight as he sat, bringing one knee up to face Findekáno head-on.
Findekáno matched him, their slight height difference emphasized like this. He hesitated for a moment, eyes scrutinizing Tyelko again, and then leaned forward and pressed their lips together.
It was simple. Not unpleasant, Findekáno's lips soft and plush despite the cold air outside, but it stayed chaste in a way that was decidedly testing the waters. Giving him a chance to back out. Tyelko rolled his eyes. Of course Maitimo liked him, they were the same type of useless: so ready to impose themselves except when it actually mattered. He wrapped a hand around Findekáno's neck, deepening the kiss as he gained control.
Findekáno responded with bruising force, that little threat of violence coming true in some way. Tyelko could have grinned. He knew he had passion somewhere under all that proper behavior. He caught the other's lip in his teeth and ran it from side to side, just on the edge of drawing blood. Findekáno made a little noise in his throat.
Tyelko half-kneeled, rocking into the kiss as his abdomen clenched tight with arousal, and Findekáno moaned. Findekáno's hands, so stiff at first, slipped up and down his back. One laced tight into Tyelko's hair as they traded little kisses back and forth, arousal turning what had been kind into something increasingly sharp as he pulled. Tyelko gasped. The other hand slid down but hesitated over his ass. Tyelko pressed back into it in encouragement. When Findekáno still hesitated, the memory of Maitimo's fucking lecture earlier resurfaced and his anger spiked. What kind of future Crown Prince wouldn't even commit? His canines caught Findekáno's lip and he bit down properly. The iron taste of blood spilled into both their mouths.
Findekáno broke away from him with a curse. Heavy breathing filled the space between them as he loosened his grip to check his mouth, glaring at Tyelkormo slightly. Tyelko smiled. He left his mouth open and licked the blood off his teeth, the motion over-long. Findekáno's hand clenched on his ass even as his pupils dilated. There. That was what he was looking for.
Tyelko shifted slightly, allowing the other's hand to run under the sensitive skin where his ass met his thigh. Findekáno squeezed it and he shifted forward again for better access, near on his lap now.
"Lie down." Findekáno ordered. Tyelko grinned. He slipped his legs off the cot to rest them on the floor, upper body rolling to lie half on, half off the other's legs. His elbows sat right at the other end of the cot with just enough space for him to rest his head on them. It left a knee digging high into his stomach but his ass lay close enough to feel Findekáno's half-hard dick press against his pelvic bone, so the exchange was definitely worth it.
The other's hand rubbed along his ass again. Without asking, Findekáno reached around his hip to loosen the laces of his leggings and slipped a hand in. It was cold against his bare skin. Tyelko lifted his hips up obligingly for Findekáno to pull the leggings down below his ass. He moaned as the other's hand brushed his half-hard cock, arousal rapidly growing now that they were actually getting into it, and rocked his hips into Findekáno's knee.
Findekáno's breath stuttered again. His hand rubbed over Tyelko's ass again, as if considering, and then he raised it.
Crack!
Tyelko groaned, long and low in his throat, as the hit registered. Pain spread along his ass. The spot where Findekáno had actually hit was numb with force, but tenderness and a hot stinging was rapidly spreading out across the area. Pleasure, deep and absolving, followed. His hips rocked forward into Findekáno's knee again, ass raising on the end of the motion for him to hit again.
"Quiet!" Findekáno hissed, as if he weren't the one making a hitting noise. How typical, governing himself by special rules no one else's had to follow. He spread his other hand along Tyelko's face blindly, two of his fingers dipping into his mouth a second later. He hit Tyelko's ass in the same spot with another loud crack a second later and all thoughts of mocking him for the hypocrisy instantly fled his mind.
He sucked on Findekáno's fingers absently as he rocked forward again, this time making sure the bone of his pelvis rubbed against Findekáno's crotch on the way back. Findekáno's pants were slightly dampened in one spot, sticking to his skin even as the man himself shifted his weight from side to side under him and stifled a little groan. It was perfect. Findekáno would be so conflicted in the morning. May this memory haunt his precious morals when he tried to take over his family's position.
His hand landed on his other cheek, then returned to the first, spreading that stinging hot pain out in a delightful burn as it went. He was every bit as strong as Tyelko had imagined. If he tilted his head just right, he could watch his large arm and back muscles flex as he brought his hand down, gave in to his anger. Tyelko rocked even harder into his knee.
Muffled noises sounded from outside the tent. They both froze when Turukáno's voice called, "Finno?"
Damn Turukáno. Anger bubbled up again at the interruption. Mind running a mile a second, Tyelko twisted his head back to look at Findekáno. He looked like he'd seen his father having sex, his eyes wide and face pale with horror even as his hand still hovered over Tyelko's ass. The other hand fell out of his mouth without a thought. He was horrified.
Tyelko wanted to laugh at the comparison, but knew his eyes were just as wide as his heart pounded loud in his ears. A sudden rush of regret over his lack of planning swept through him, strong and bitter, as he pictured having to explain it to Nolofinwe of all people. Curvo would've known how to manipulate this to end up on top without even a moment of panic.
It would be worse for Findekáno to be caught than it would be for him. Maitimo already didn't expect him to be worth anything. But Findekáno, prestigious, honorable, righteous bastard who pretended to be better, caught as the aggressorin incest… the thought warmed to him slightly as he pictured Maitimo's face. He'd be so horrified over the actions of his favorite half-cousin that it was almost worth the increased disappointment at his failures.
Curvo would be able to work with that to change his mind about the Crown, wouldn't he?
"Finno?" Turukáno called again, now significantly closer, and Findekáno's face paled even further. Tyelko grinned at it this time. The fear of getting caught only added to his arousal now, the memory of Maitimo's disappointment urging him on. "Is that you?"
"I'm trying to rest, Turko. That means not bothering me." Findekáno snapped back in his best stern older brother voice. It quavered. Tyelko slid his arm across his face to stifle a laugh. Findekáno pinched him and it just made him laugh harder, biting his arm as he tried to keep the actual noise minimal. The shaking produced did give him a good idea, though.
Findekáno half-groaned as his ass pressed against his cock again and then audibly clapped a hand to his mouth. When Tyelko chanced a peak up again, the horror on his face had tripled. He bit his arm hard enough to leave marks as he slowly rocked against it again.
"Are you alright?" Turukáno asked, hand audibly brushing the fabric door of the tent. Findekáno looked like he was going to cry.
"Yes! Go bother Ingo about the noises if you really need something and leave me alone."
The hand paused. It took a very long second for it to drop away. "If you insist," Turukáno said finally, his voice very stiff, and left.
They waited, one tense, one gleeful, until his footsteps were no longer audible. Then Findekáno near collapsed over Tyelko with relief, his lower body relaxing under his hips. He was still hard. Of course he was. No matter how much he might mislead others, Tyelko knew he was just as—what was it Maitimo had implied, uncaring?—as him. Tyelko wriggled into his dick, his own hard cock leaking over Findekáno's clothed knee again, and Findekáno swore under his breath at him again.
"Do you ever behave appropriately?" He snapped, still whispering, and Tyelko did laugh that time.
"That's your job." He rocked into Findekáno's thigh again. Findekáno snapped a hand to his hip, holding him still and away from his cock with a considerable amount of force as he bit his lip. Tyelko groaned. "You cannot—"
"—I would hit you again if you weren't too loud," Findekáno snapped at him again, anger not fully covering his disappointment at that idea. Tyelko shook his still tingling ass, letting his defined muscles ripple right in front of Findekáno's eyes, and the other closed them with another muttered curse.
Well, he clearly wasn't going to get what he wanted that way anymore. Damn Turukáno for fucking up the best thing he'd felt in weeks. He was going to find his tent on the way out and put a frog in it.
"Might as well force me to stay quiet," he dared, and took the way Findekáno's fingers tightened on him as permission.
Tyelkormo slid off his lap to the floor gracefully even with his pants around his knees. He kept his hands behind his back and leaned forward, pressing his mouth onto the solid, slightly damp bulge of Findekáno’s cloth covered cock. His half-cousin inhaled sharply, trembling with the force of staying still, and Tyelkormo grinned. Slowly, carefully, he took one of the laces between his teeth and pulled it back, repeating with the other until the pants sagged loose.
He reached up and ran his hands down the curves of Findekáno’s hips. They slipped beneath the edges of his pants and pulled them down far enough to loosen his cock. It was not overly long but thicker than he’d expected, curving slightly to the right.
Findekáno’s hands landed on his hair, twining in between the strands, and Tyelkormo looked up. He kept eye contact as he ran a finger up the vein on the underside and it jerked, Findekáno’s eyes going wider at even that little contact. Good. This would work well, then.
Tyelkormo ran his tongue along the tip, dipping slightly into the slit, and soaked in the little noises Findekáno couldn’t quite suppress. He could see his face tint redder even in this dark, eyes filled with want even as he kept himself still. Self-control, ugh. He could break that.
He opened his mouth wider and stuck his tongue out, making sure Findekáno got a good view of his cock sliding into his mouth. He flicked his tongue up along the veins underneath, feeling the cock jump in his mouth, and then closed his mouth tight and sucked. His half-cousin swore.
He kept it up for a long second then released the pressure, breathing in through his nose as his tongue teased around the other's foreskin again. Findekáno's hands laced deeper into his braids.
He swapped between sucking and licking as he made his way up and down his cousin's cock. Findekáno's grip grew increasingly tight as he went until it hurt, the pain going straight to his cock as he leaked precum all over his pants and the ground. The other used his grip to guide him as much as Tyelko could allow. Only the sound of his mouth and Findekáno's little desperate whimpering moans filled the tent for a few minutes. His precious little perfect attitude, all broken apart for him.
He pictured telling Maitimo about it, giving him proof that his savior was no better than them after all. It urged him on like nothing else could.
Tyelko finally let his teeth scrape the underside and heard Findekáno curse again. The word was broken and desperate. He tugged hard on his hair, pulling him off his dick by the hair and up onto his feet. His cousin kissed him hard and Tyelko kissed back, climbing onto his lap until he straddled him.
He sucked Findekáno’s lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it until he tasted blood again. Findekáno moaned into his mouth this time. A hand ran down his spine, nails scratching a hot line down to the still stinging flesh of his ass and Tyelko pressed even closer, their cocks rubbing up against each other until he groaned.
Findekáno’s hand slid down to his rim and slipped a finger inside without a pause. Tyelko inhaled sharply at the sudden intrusion, and Findekáno broke the kiss to pull back and meet his eyes. His eyes were concerned, despite everything, and it sent another jolt of anger through Tyelko. He couldn't even do this right.
“Just fuck me already, you’re so slow.”
“Always so rude,” he muttered, but the finger slid further in and Tyelko sunk further down onto Findekáno’s lap, bracing his feet against the awkwardly thin cot. It felt odd but good. The drag of his finger was cooled by the slick oil. He pushed his finger in an oval shape, stretching Tyelko's rim somewhat awkwardly, until he brushed up against a more sensitive spot and a jolt of pleasure lanced through him. Tyelko inhaled sharply again. Findekáno grinned at him, white teeth gleaming even in the dim light of a nighttime tent, and did it again.
Findekáno set a slow pace. He slid the one finger in and out for what felt like an eternity until Tyelko had gone from mild discomfort to squirming on his lap with both impatience and arousal. He reached down and took both their dicks in hand, and Findekáno laughed between moans.
“So impatient,” he mumbled, rocking forward in Tyelko’s hand even as he teased the rim of his ass with a second finger.
Tyelko groaned. The slight brushes of his prostate were teasing, stimulating but never quite enough for satisfaction, and they had gone on quite long enough. He buried his face in Findekáno’s neck, grinding down as much as he could. “Bet I can make you cum before you get to fuck me.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Then fuck me already,” he snarled into Findekáno’s ear and Findekáno laughed lowly.
"I thought this was my apology?" He asked, sliding the second finger in. Despite his words the motion of his hand sped up significantly, leaving the sensitive rim alone for now to scissor him open in quick strokes just on the edge of pain. "If I wish to go slowly?"
"Fuck me or fuck my apology," Tyelko snapped back. His hand fumbled along their dicks, coordination shot by the mess of sensations in his ass, but the callouses caught on the edge of both and he heard Findekáno curse again.
The fingers were removed with absolutely no preamble and Findekáno interrupted his motion with an oil slicked hand. Tyelko felt as much as heard his slicking up his dick and then his hands were on his hips, guiding Tyelko to be correctly above his cock with a still-frustrating amount of patience and caution.
Tyelko ignored it. He did the most performative sweep of his own rim, judging it just barely stretched enough, and grabbed Findekáno's cock to sink on as quick as his thighs spread out over the edges of the flimsy cot would allow.
He swore, loudly. Findekáno bit his lip to contain his own noises and slapped a hand over Tyelko's mouth.
"My brother," he gritted out despite the telling way his other hand flexed against the bedspread. "I will never forgive you if you get us caught by him."
"I don't care," Tyelko muttered under the hand, the words coming out in an absolute jumble of consonants. He rocked back and forth in the silence, grinding deeper into Findekáno's lap as the stretch settled from pain into pleasure, shifting just enough to stimulate himself from the inside.
Findekáno pinched him. He was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, shaking with the effort not to move. Tyelko licked up his hand, tongue dipping into the gaps between his fingers in an imitation of his motion on his cock a few minutes before.
Findekáno pinched him again.
It had been long enough for his precious sensitivities, Tyelko decided after a few more seconds—though he rightly didn't know if anyone had moved outside, he hadn't paid any attention to it.
He brought his hands up from his side to twist one in Findekáno's hair and pull his head back. His half-cousin dropped his hand in surprise and Tyelko pounced. He kissed up Findekáno's neck as he rose slightly off his lap, slamming back down as he sucked at the delicate skin under his ear.
Findekáno moaned. Louder than he'd cursed, Tyelko noted with a grin. Excellent. He licked a stripe up Findekáno's ear and it flattened back away from the stimulation as Findekáno thrust up into him. They worked out a rough pace, ungainly though it was, moans and groans muffled by teeth and lips as best as either of them could do.
Pleasure grew rapidly. Tyelko took charge of the pace as best he could, determined not to come first, and waited until Findekáno's thrusts where just a little more desperate. He leaned in close again and bit the tip of his ear. Findekáno whined, eyes screwing shut as his hips stuttered and he came.
Tyelko ground down, hand dipping to rub at his cock in turn, and came all over his half-cousin's chest.
Findekáno's head dipped forward into his chest as they both panted in the dark tent. Tyelkormo allowed it, though he scrunched up his nose at the texture of golden-laced braids against sweaty skin. Worse than dog fur.
He hit his limit as soon as his heart calmed down, pulling off Findekáno's lap with a vaguely disgusting drip of cum and oil onto the other's legs. Tyelko tucked his far knee under him as he stood up from the cot, grabbing an edge of Findekáno's blanket to wipe himself off even as the man shifted to face him.
"Do you need—" he started, courteous as ever, and Tyelko wanted to punch him.
"No."
He dressed the opposite of how he'd stripped: silent, quick, efficient, snatching his clothing from the floor even when it was near Findekáno without a word. There was no point in wasting any more time here.
He stopped near the entrance of the tent and glanced back. His half-cousin watched him through dark eyes, analytical and unsettling in a way he had noticed but never truly acknowledged before. Tyelko couldn't shake the feeling that he saw more than he wanted him. Just like his brother.
Tyelkormo left without another word.