Desperation Of Spirit

Justyn pushed Jasyn into the storage closet, laughing drunkenly as their lips met. Jasyn tasted like the thick booze and egg and cream concoction their father had put out for the holiday festivities. Neither their father nor their mother had caught them dipping into the large, never-ending bowl, and they'd managed to slip by Cathal and Keegan with their drunkenness unnoticed.

In the darkness of the closet, Justyn consumed his twin's mouth. It didn't matter that Kyran still didn't see them. The years of chasing after their old tutor fell into the background as they clung to one another. The single spirit halved and bound in each of their bodies reached and stretched, desperate for just one moment of wholeness. Justyn didn't have it in him to deny them, and the booze helped. Right or wrong, the gods had split them, made them incomplete, made them half at all times but the most intimate.

Jasyn whimpered, and Justyn ducked his head down, sucking and licking at the pounding pulse in his neck. Jasyn's hands tangled in his hair, held him there. "Please," Jasyn panted.

Justyn immediately set to leaving his mark. Jasyn was his. Jasyn would always be his. His sweet, docile, loving twin, whose heart was broken again and again by rejection each time they stepped too close to Kyran. It didn't matter. He would be enough. Somehow, together, they would be enough. Fuck Kyran... fuck everyone.

When the flesh was hot and bruised under his lips, Justyn dropped to his knees. His fingers felt three inches thick as he tore at the lacings keeping Jasyn's sex away from him. Justyn cursed, yanked, and then crowed his triumph when the fabric finally parted and Jasyn was bared to him.

"Justyn," Jasyn moaned, looking down at the same instant Justyn looked up. Jasyn's eyes were dazed, glassy with intoxicated lust, and Justyn could see himself in those eyes, the same glassiness. "Please, Justyn..."

Without waiting a moment longer, Justyn took Jasyn's cock into his mouth, into his throat. It was frantic, quick, sloppy and lacking in all decorum or skill. It was their way: youthful, rushing headlong into passion without a second thought. Justyn threw himself into pleasuring his twin, licking and sucking and swallowing. Jasyn bit into the back of his hand, trying to stifle the growing cries, but it was useless. Within minutes, Jasyn was shouting, his head thrown back to crack against the heavy oak door as bitterness flooded Justyn's mouth.

Justyn shuddered, drinking down every drop, and then he pulled back to rest his head against Jasyn's hip. Jasyn was panting loudly, trembling, and Justyn wrapped his arms around him. His own head was dizzy with the booze and lack of oxygen. They just rested there until Jasyn's hand finally combed through Justyn's hair.

"Let's go to our room," Jasyn mumbled, his voice thick.

Justyn nodded against the cool flesh of Jasyn's hip. "Our room."

"I'll see to you there."

Jasyn helped him up, and they laughed as they fumbled to dress Jasyn again. There were soft, wet kisses, the touch of lovers between them, and their eyes shined with the silver light of their spirit. In these moments, magical and intimate, their spirit was one, wrapped together, whole as it wasn't otherwise. They wanted to linger in that wholeness for as long as possible, and Justyn knew—just as Jasyn did, for now they were one mind, one soul, though still two bodies—that they would tangle themselves up all night. Together, they would hold onto this fleeting completeness for as long as possible.

Read the companion piece by K. Piet - Eavesdropping

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