Chapter 1: Beneath the Covers
The moon was a sliver of bone outside the window, the kind of night that felt carved from silence. Merlin lay naked under the single thin blanket, every nerve awake. The house sighed around him, floorboards creaking somewhere down the hall. He’d stopped pretending to sleep an hour ago. His skin was hot, too tight, and the air in his small room tasted of dust and the clean, sharp scent of the soap Caleb used.
Footsteps. Heavy, slow. They paused outside his door.
Merlin held his breath, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs. The door hinge gave a soft, familiar whine. A shadow filled the doorway, broader than the frame, before it moved inside and the door clicked shut.
No words.
The mattress dipped under Caleb’s weight. Merlin felt the heat of him even before the blanket was pulled back. Cool air washed over Merlin’s skin, raising goosebumps, followed immediately by the solid, overwhelming presence of his brother’s body sliding in beside him. Caleb’s work-rough hand found Merlin’s hip in the dark, not gentle, just certain. A calloused thumb stroked the crest of his pelvis.
“You’re shaking,” Caleb’s voice was a low rumble, so close his breath stirred the hair at Merlin’s temple.
“Cold,” Merlin lied, his own voice a thread.
Caleb didn’t call him on it. His hand slid around to the small of Merlin’s back, applying slight pressure. Merlin understood, rolling onto his stomach, pressing his face into the pillow. He felt exposed, the curve of his ass in the dark, the vulnerable dip of his spine. He waited, trembling.
The first touch wasn’t a hand. It was Caleb’s mouth, open and hot, planting a blunt, wet kiss at the base of his spine. Merlin jolted, a choked sound escaping him. Caleb’s hands spread him, held him open, and then his tongue was there—a broad, slow lick from his perineum all the way up to the top of his cleft.
“Fuck,” Merlin gasped, fingers clawing at the sheets.
Caleb didn’t hurry. He feasted. His tongue was relentless, circling his rim, pressing against the tight furl of muscle without pushing in, just laying claim to the territory. It was obscene, the wet, slick sounds in the quiet room. Merlin’s hips pushed back instinctively, seeking more pressure, and Caleb gave it to him, his tongue finally pressing inside, just the very tip, working him open with a patience that felt like agony.
Merlin was burning up. Pleasure, sharp and electric, shot up his spine with every lave of that tongue. Caleb rimmed him with a focused intensity, like this was all he’d ever wanted to do. He never touched Merlin’s cock, which lay hard and leaking against the mattress, a throbbing, ignored ache. This was about something else. Preparation. Worship. The drag of Caleb’s stubble against his sensitive skin was almost too much.
“Caleb, please,” Merlin begged, his voice muffled by the pillow.
Caleb pulled back. Merlin heard the soft pop of a cap, the sound slick and decisive in the dark. Then a blunt, slick pressure replaced the tongue. Caleb’s finger, thick and insistent, pressing inside.
Merlin cried out, his body arching. It burned, a bright, stretching pain that instantly melted into a deep, shocking fullness. Caleb worked him open with one finger, then two, scissoring them slowly, the pads rubbing deliberately over a spot inside him that made white light flash behind Merlin’s eyelids.
“You take it so good,” Caleb grunted, his voice thick with want.
When Caleb withdrew his fingers, Merlin felt empty, bereft. He heard the rustle of Caleb shedding his boxers, the sound of more lube. Then Caleb was over him, covering him, his weight a delicious anchor. His cock, thick and heavy, nudged at Merlin’s entrance.
“Look at me,” Caleb said.
Merlin turned his head, their faces inches apart on the pillow. Caleb’s eyes were black in the dark, his expression fierce, unguarded. He pushed in.
It was a slow, inexorable invasion. Merlin’s mouth fell open in a silent scream, his body stretching to accommodate the brutal thickness. It hurt, a raw, tearing pain that blurred into an unbelievable feeling of fullness. Caleb sank deeper, and deeper, until his hips were flush against Merlin’s ass, until he was buried to the hilt.
“Jesus,” Caleb breathed, shuddering. He stayed there, not moving, letting Merlin adjust. Sweat dripped from his temple onto Merlin’s shoulder.
Then he moved. A slow, grinding withdrawal, then a smooth, deep push back in. It stole the air from Merlin’s lungs. Caleb set a relentless, deep rhythm, each stroke punching a soft, punched-out gasp from Merlin’s lips. The pain receded, burned away by a rising tide of pure, mindless pleasure. Each thrust lit up his nerves, the drag of Caleb’s cock over that perfect spot inside him building a coil of heat in his gut.
Merlin turned his face further, seeking Caleb’s mouth. Their lips met in a clumsy, desperate kiss. It was wet, messy, all tongue and shared breath. Merlin kissed him to muffle his own broken sounds, to taste him, to make this real. He clung to Caleb’s shoulders, nails digging into the hard muscle of his back.
Caleb’s pace began to fracture, his thrusts growing harder, faster, less controlled. The bedframe knocked a dull rhythm against the wall. He fucked into Merlin with a raw, grunting urgency, his body a piston of heat and muscle.
“Gonna come,” Caleb growled against his mouth. “Gonna fill you up.”
That was all it took. The crude, possessive words sent Merlin over the edge. His orgasm ripped through him without a hand on his cock, a silent, convulsing wave that tightened his whole body. He clamped down around Caleb, milking him.
Caleb swore, a harsh, guttural sound, and drove in one last, deep time. Merlin felt the hot, pulsing spill of his release inside him, a shocking, intimate claim. Caleb collapsed on top of him, their bodies slick and heaving.
For long minutes, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing. Caleb softened inside him but didn’t pull out. He nuzzled into the side of Merlin’s neck, his lips soft against the sweat-damp skin.
“Okay?” Caleb murmured, his hand coming up to cradle the back of Merlin’s head.
Merlin could only nod, his throat too tight for words. He was ruined, unmoored, more whole than he’d ever been. Caleb shifted finally, rolling them to their sides, staying connected. He pulled the blanket back over them.
In the new silence, Caleb kissed his shoulder, his jaw, his temple. Each kiss was a soft, sealing promise. Merlin drifted, anchored by the weight of his brother’s arm across his waist, by the slow trickle of come leaking from his used hole. The secret was a living thing now, curled between them in the warm dark.
“Sleep,” Caleb whispered, his voice already thick with exhaustion. “I’m here.”
And Merlin did.