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Content warning: this story contains adult incest
Nor liked looking at Toby more than anything—more than bluebells in a spring meadow, more than an impressive set of points on a buck he’d brought down, more than chipmunks quarreling with each other over a nut or a fresh coat of new-fallen snow blanketing the woods in white.
He carried a hundred images of Toby with him, catalogued and memorized—Toby in his skin, splashing naked in the river or licking ice cream drips off his fingers. Toby in his fur, poised to pounce or curled up in a spot of sun. Toby in heat, hard and begging. Ass dripping, cock leaking, asking for his knot.
It was a good thing Nor had all those pictures saved up from before, because he couldn’t look at his youngest brother now. Could never look at him again. Must steadfastly look elsewhere lest he be overcome with shame and longing and give their secret away.
“Toby, honey, you’re sure you don’t feel anything coming on?” Mama leaned close to Toby under the guise of passing him the dish of sweet potatoes, taking an obvious sniff along his neck as she did. “I just don’t understand it,” she said when he shook his head. “I’d have sworn he was on the verge of getting his first heat, and now nothing.”
No one could ever know that Toby had already had his first heat, last week when the two of them had been alone together on a hunt. If they knew that, they’d want to know how Toby had handled it. Out there, with just the two of them. So they’d agreed to say that Toby had sprained his ankle, badly enough that a shift hadn’t cured it, that it was the injury that’d slowed them down, not the night Nor had spent taking his little brother’s first heat and giving him his first knot in return.
To sell the story, Nor had carried Toby home. The sweet-slick scent of heat had left him, but he still smelled like Toby—like love and longing—and the weight of two packs plus his little brother’s solid body was nothing compared to the strain of having him so close without being able to taste him, of knowing he could never taste him again. Not his slick, not his pre-come, not the honeydew sweetness of his mouth. This was all Nor could ever be—Toby’s brother and servant, his biggest fan and most secret admirer.
“Not everyone is so regular in their cycles as you are,” Grandma Dalita said. “Toby’s time will come.” She handed Nor the platter with the deer steaks on it, urging him to take a second helping. “You don’t eat enough,” she chided.
“I’m fine,” he demurred. “Toby might want some more.”
“Toby does need his calories,” Mama said, passing the platter over to Toby who took a steak with a smile just for Nor, which he shouldn’t have noticed because he shouldn’t have been looking.
“First heat is a doozy. I remember when mine was coming on.” Mama rambled through a story Nor had heard before about setting off with her own mother from the tiny town she’d been born in to make her way here, to Scottsdale, where she could have her pick of mates when her time came. “And we got here exactly the day it started!” she concluded, as she always did.
“Such a blessing to us,” Grandma Dalita said, prodding her son with a kick under the table that Nor felt too.
“Indeed,” Papa agreed. “The gods have seen fit to grace us with many pups.”
“Because you and I were from different packs,” Mama said. “Makes for strong pups. Nine of them, and every one of them still alive.”
Nor didn’t know whether a pup’s parents being from different packs was likely to make it healthier or not, but he knew the people in the village who’d lost pups to sickness didn’t appreciate hearing Mama say so.
“Which is why I was counting on you going into heat by now, Toby. There are those cousins of the Ambertsons visiting. Three alphas, all in their prime. Any one of them would claim you in a heartbeat.
But then Toby would leave!
Nor’s heart panged painfully. What if that had happened? What if Toby had gone into heat the day before their hunt or the day after? Some horrible Ambertson would have snatched him up, mated him, and taken him south to his own village where Nor would never see Toby again, and then it wouldn’t matter how many memories he had stored up. He didn’t have enough to last a lifetime.
“I don’t know where we’ll bring Toby when his time comes,” Mama said. “I just hope he gives us some warning or he’ll end up with a local alpha, I just know it.” She shook her head, eyeing Toby disapprovingly. She’d disposed of all her children successfully except the two of them—her oldest and her youngest—and as soon as Toby had his first heat—his second heat—she’d mate him off too.
Which would be worse, Nor wondered, to never see Toby again or to see him daily but in the company of his mate? Either was unthinkable, and yet less than a month from now Toby would go into heat again and fate, assisted by Mama, would take it from there. Nor wouldn’t get to choose which brand of torture he’d prefer because no one would ask him.
The sky was clouding over fast, and his internal barometer told him a big storm was brewing, so after dinner he went out to tidy the yard, to make sure all the tools were stowed away properly and that the tarps were tied down fast over the wood pile.
“Toby,” Grandma Dalita yelled from the porch, “come on out here and help your brother.”
“I’m fine,” Nor said. “Let Toby stay inside. You know he doesn’t like thunderstorms.”
“You spoil that boy.” She took a seat in one of the rocking chairs. “He’ll never find a mate spoils him half as good as you.”
“Hope he will,” Nor mumbled. He didn’t want Toby to be unhappy. Toby should have a mate who loved him, who loved him even more than Nor did, if such a thing was possible.
He finished up with getting everything locked down and put away just before the first rain drops fell. They were fat ones, blown hard by a westerly wind, and spoke of more to come. The sky to the west was all black clouds now, the sun no longer able to burn through as it set behind them. He watched them crawl their relentless way eastward from the rocking chair next to Grandma Dalita’s, neither of them saying much, until the wind got so fierce it blew the rain right up under the eaves.
“My cue to turn in,” she said, rising to her feet with a waver that made Nor want to grab for her, but she cherished her independence, he knew. She was like him that way—proud and sturdy, not asking for anything, always giving where she could. It was because of Grandma Dalita that Nor had never left home to seek a mate. Her and Toby.
His parents couldn’t care for such a big brood on their own, so he’d stayed while his brothers and sisters had left, one at a time, figuring once Toby was taken care of, he’d take care of himself. Now the time had come, and he didn’t have the heart for it. Not when his heart belonged to Toby.
“Night, Meemaw.” He turned his cheek up for her to brush a kiss against, then went back to his perusal of the rain. It was getting damper under the overhang, but he didn’t want to go inside where the air was full of Toby-scent and Nor would see him every time he turned around, so he shifted into wolf form and curled up under the porch swing, letting the pitter-patter of rain on the tin roof be his entertainment.
Someone came out onto the porch—Toby, he could tell by the smell—but he kept still and quiet and didn’t give himself away, not shifting back until the darkness came from more than the clouds rolling in, until he could safely call it bedtime.
Another day, he prided himself as walked up the stairs to his room in the attic. He’d made it another day without touching his brother.
“Toby?” He sat up, groping for the sound of Toby’s voice in the dark. “What’s wrong?”
A burst of lightning lit the room through the half-moon window at the west end of the attic, revealing Toby in a pair of pajama bottoms, his chest bare above them and his face pale above that. A crash of thunder sounded, and Toby was in bed with him—under the covers with him, pressing himself into him.
Nor put his arms around Toby’s huddled form instinctively. “You’re too old for this. Grown-up wolves aren’t afraid of a little thunder.”
“Shh. If you say I’m grown-up, they’ll know what happened.”
“There’s no one here to hear us, and you’re too old to be in my bed, heat or no heat.”
Nor’s night vision had kicked in enough that he could see Toby clearly now. He was doing that wide-eyed, pleading thing that worked a hundred percent of the time, but Nor couldn’t give in to it today, not if he was going to keep the promise he’d made to himself.
“Come on, baby. Let me walk you down to your room. I’ll tuck you in and stay right next to you until you fall asleep.”
“I want to sleep here.” Toby squirmed in tighter, wrapping his arms around Nor’s waist.
“Mama and Papa will know.”
“They won’t think anything of it. They’d think it was weird if I didn’t sleep here. I always sleep with you when there’s thunder.”
As if on cue, another crack of thunder pealed, ringing through the peaked rafters of their snug bower. Toby dove under the covers, burrowing into the comfort of their mingled scents. He curled into a ball that brought his face much too close to Nor’s groin, to the hard and anxious manifestation of his illicit desire.
Nor hooked his hands under Toby’s arms, trying to pull him up so they’d be face to face again, but Toby squirmed out of his clasp to press his mouth right into the shameful bulge beneath his pajama bottoms.
“It’s safe down here,” he whined. “You always let me.”
Because he’d been a baby before, a child Nor had been able to protect and love. But he wasn’t a baby now. He was a man, full-grown, filled out in all the right places though still so much smaller, still so in need of protection and love. Nor couldn’t help how his mind went to the things grown men did in bed together, that his cock responded to Toby the way it would to a mate.
“You’re so hard.” Toby’s dexterous hands dove beneath the elastic of his waistband to find him there, tugging down on his pajamas even as Nor clung tight in a losing battle to keep them in place. “And you smell so good.” His nose snuffled under Nor’s balls and then the wet flick of his tongue came out to taste them.
“I want to suck you. Don’t you want to know what it feels like?”
Nor shook his head, even though Toby couldn’t see him. He didn’t want to know, because then he’d never be able to forget it, the way he would never forget the feeling of his knot expanding inside Toby’s hole, the tight, sacred heat of him, the flood of pleasure. How could he live with such intimate knowledge of what he couldn’t have?
But Toby didn’t pay the refusal he hadn’t been able to see any mind, continuing to tease Nor with little flicks of his tongue and the gentle snuffling nudge of his nose.
“I’m hard too.” He bumped against Nor’s leg, and Nor felt the column of his cock through two layers of brushed flannel.
“I thought you were scared.”
“Adrenalin,” Toby explained. “Arousal is a normal reaction to fear.”
Nor didn’t know if that was true or if Toby was teasing. Toby was so clever. He knew things like that—about adrenalin and biological reactions. He should go to people-college, not mate with someone in the village and be wasted in their little backwater. Nor had been saving up, saving for years, but people-college was so expensive. He didn’t know how he could manage it, but if he could find a way, maybe Toby wouldn’t have to be mated. Not so soon.
A flurry of movement beneath the covers distracted him from that thought. “What are you doing?”
“Taking these off.” Toby’s hand extended out from under the covers, his pajama bottoms dangling from it. “I don’t think they fit me anymore.”
Nor took the bottoms from him, his fist clutching convulsively around the soft fabric that’d so recently been on his brother’s body. He brought them to his nose, seeking out that spot where his scent was richest to inhale deeply.
“Can’t you take yours off too?” Toby asked with a whine. “They’re in my way.”
“In your way of what?”
“This.” Toby’s mouth closed around his shaft, sucking all the air out of his lungs. Nor lost the battle for control over his pajamas as all bodily functions closed down except for his pleasure receptors, helpless to do anything except breathe through the ecstasy of it.
“But… you shouldn’t… do… that.”
Toby popped his head out from under the covers. He was grinning, no anxiety that Nor could see, just a pretty smile and lively eyes. Toby kissed him, right on the mouth, his plump lips pressing full into Nor’s, the tongue that’d been flickering around the base of his cock teasing into his mouth. Nor could taste himself there, on Toby’s tongue, a rich lingering want.
“Love me?” Toby asked through the kisses he plied Nor with, the ones Nor was helpless to resist.
“You know I do.”
“Can I love you?”
“Toby,” he said hopelessly. It was so impossible to say no that he didn’t even try.
Toby squirmed back down to his cock, taking the covers with him, adding a visual to what Nor had previously only felt. His cock ached like it might burst—too hard, too primed. Every touch of Toby’s tongue hurt with goodness, the pleasure so sweet it couldn’t be borne. Toby’s hands—so small, so firm, so unlike his own—wrapping around his balls and crawling up his shaft as he sucked Nor into him, bathing him in wet fire.
He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stop it. He wouldn’t have been able to stop anyone, not now, not when his whole body yearned upward, hovering like it could float right off the mattress, so taut it might break. But he certainly couldn’t stop Toby. Even if he found the will to, there wouldn’t be time. He hadn’t jerked off in the week since they’d been back, punishing himself for his transgression, knowing where his mind would go if he did, and the week’s abstinence drove him fast towards release.
“Baby, beautiful love, I’m going to…”
Toby hummed, the hum itself enough to trigger the orgasm Nor had been trying to warn him about. He spilled over into his brother’s mouth, a week’s worth of remorse and frustration spilling from him in a matter of moments.
And Toby licked it all up, his sweet face blissful as he took in what Nor gave him like it was a gift. A second, more emotional wave of bliss came over him. His precious baby, doing so good, making him feel so good, loving on him with such sweet service. He yanked Toby up to him, needing to feast on his mouth, to pour his love out in words he couldn’t say. He wasn’t clever enough to express it all—the joy and pride and gratitude and need.
But Toby seemed to understand, squirmy and pleased, kissing back between giggles, rubbing his cock up against Nor’s thigh. And oh, his poor baby. Hard all this time and him only thinking of his own pleasure. He wrapped a hand around Toby’s cock, found it hot and leaking, sliding easily in his palm. Toby gasped at the contact, breaking free from their kiss to throw his head back with a low whine.
“Tell me what you want. Tell me anything. Always.” His hand worked as he pledged his eternal faithfulness. Toby writhed with it, not asking for anything except more, the column of his neck so tempting, so dear. Nor broke off his litany to nuzzle into it, worrying at the cords with his teeth which were sharp from the churn of his emotions, needing to get in there, to claim Toby as his. His. His.
Toby came on a gasp, flooding Nor’s hand and the narrow space between them. His hands clung to Nor’s arms, claws scratching and piercing as he convulsed. He slumped when his climax eased, and Nor brought his hand to his mouth, wasting not a drop of the precious fluid he’d coaxed forth—the essence of his love. He felt the sharp points of his incisors on his own fingers and shook at how close he’d come to using them on his brother. If Toby hadn’t come just then…
But that Toby had come at all. And him too—even worse. He didn’t deserve… He should never have…
“Nor,” Toby murmured. “Don’t fret, please? I need you right now.”
Toby needed him. He would fret later. For now, he got Toby’s stomach wiped clean and his pajamas back on, settled Toby’s head on the pillow and tucked him carefully beneath the blankets, then curled up behind him, wrapping him up safe and secure, telling him nothing except I love you and You did so good and I love you again until Toby fell gently asleep, the soft sounds of his breath a certain comfort.
He would fret tomorrow. Toby was safe and warm and happy, and that was all Nor needed.
But tomorrow—tomorrow it would be time to find Toby a mate. They would find Toby a mate, and Nor would go away, somewhere he could never again sully his brother with his awful urges.
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