Vilkas felt a hand come up behind his head, he was too exhausted to slap him away. He didn't feel like it'd be worth anything. “That's why you need to start enjoying your life. He spent his last days fearing for your happiness, and he would not be proud of the life your living.” There was a hot warm thing on his shoulder, Vilkas' lowered forehead.
“Would you do that for him?” He pulled the taller man in close, arms around him unashamedly.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Vilkas shuddered, and the elf knew he was crying. His body shook, leaned forward and he was welcoming of his weight. He didn't answer, stroking his back and heard the first strangled sob wrench from his throat. It was heartbreaking, but a strangely beautiful feeling for the mer.
Vilkas couldn't stand the pain, the fact it was so obvious and he felt like an utter fool. Ashamed of hurting his brother, hurting Kodlak and hurting a mer who's intentions with him are so unclear. Once the first tears came then they just wouldn't stop.
“Because you mean something to me. You wouldn't let yourself get used to the idea.” If it meant reaching him, it meant breaking that wall. Of course it was going to be painful.
The Dragonborn's eyes catch the sight of Farkas peeping from the hall, he had heard the shouting and feared the worst. Farkas looked shocked, his mouth hanging open, hands scrambling for purchase on the wall before leaving hurriedly. Hopefully the Dragonborn could do this alone, Farkas couldn't find it in himself to get involved- he didn't know how to handle it. He hadn't seen his twin cry in 10 years.
Vilkas had his hands clawed to the mer's back by the time he'd lost the strength to keep himself quiet. It was the first time he let this feeling in, a warm body to cling to. Something stable and comforting, well..Someone. If he was to be broken now, then let him break, Vilkas thinks. He hid nothing as he started to paw at the mer's back, hearing his hushing words of comfort, little noises escaping his own throat.
Maybe he wanted to forget, but Vilkas pulled away just long enough to look at this man who brought him heartache. It was a confusing gaze, a confusing touch “What do you need?” He asked the Nord, seeing him eye the hall. “Close the door.” He heard Vilkas gulp, felt hands on his hips. Part of him knew what Vilkas wanted- his body already springing to life. With a gentle knock the doors where locked tight, turning back to see the man already throwing his armor off.
“Come to me” he said, no, he moaned it. The Bosmer couldn't tear his eyes away from him, Vilkas was biting his lip and looked to the bed, pulling the tan body close to his until he had the elf seated in his lap. He allowed himself to touch the mer's solid muscles, running calloused hands under his clothing, tracing his curves. It felt so foreign, the touch of a male. Even more foreign the taste of his lips when he ignited a kiss between them both. That was it, he needed out. Now.
Muses and Mead 14 (Vilkas M/M)
Vilkas felt a hand come up behind his head, he was too exhausted to slap him away. He didn't feel like it'd be worth anything. “That's why you need to start enjoying your life. He spent his last days fearing for your happiness, and he would not be proud of the life your living.” There was a hot warm thing on his shoulder, Vilkas' lowered forehead.
“Would you do that for him?” He pulled the taller man in close, arms around him unashamedly.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Vilkas shuddered, and the elf knew he was crying. His body shook, leaned forward and he was welcoming of his weight. He didn't answer, stroking his back and heard the first strangled sob wrench from his throat. It was heartbreaking, but a strangely beautiful feeling for the mer.
Vilkas couldn't stand the pain, the fact it was so obvious and he felt like an utter fool. Ashamed of hurting his brother, hurting Kodlak and hurting a mer who's intentions with him are so unclear. Once the first tears came then they just wouldn't stop.
“Because you mean something to me. You wouldn't let yourself get used to the idea.” If it meant reaching him, it meant breaking that wall. Of course it was going to be painful.
The Dragonborn's eyes catch the sight of Farkas peeping from the hall, he had heard the shouting and feared the worst. Farkas looked shocked, his mouth hanging open, hands scrambling for purchase on the wall before leaving hurriedly. Hopefully the Dragonborn could do this alone, Farkas couldn't find it in himself to get involved- he didn't know how to handle it. He hadn't seen his twin cry in 10 years.
Vilkas had his hands clawed to the mer's back by the time he'd lost the strength to keep himself quiet. It was the first time he let this feeling in, a warm body to cling to. Something stable and comforting, well..Someone. If he was to be broken now, then let him break, Vilkas thinks. He hid nothing as he started to paw at the mer's back, hearing his hushing words of comfort, little noises escaping his own throat.
Maybe he wanted to forget, but Vilkas pulled away just long enough to look at this man who brought him heartache. It was a confusing gaze, a confusing touch “What do you need?” He asked the Nord, seeing him eye the hall. “Close the door.” He heard Vilkas gulp, felt hands on his hips. Part of him knew what Vilkas wanted- his body already springing to life. With a gentle knock the doors where locked tight, turning back to see the man already throwing his armor off.
“Come to me” he said, no, he moaned it. The Bosmer couldn't tear his eyes away from him, Vilkas was biting his lip and looked to the bed, pulling the tan body close to his until he had the elf seated in his lap. He allowed himself to touch the mer's solid muscles, running calloused hands under his clothing, tracing his curves. It felt so foreign, the touch of a male. Even more foreign the taste of his lips when he ignited a kiss between them both. That was it, he needed out. Now.