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The day Klavier passed the bar exam, he felt like he could walk on air. He was going to achieve his dream of becoming a lawyer years before he thought it would be possible. When he found out, he’d twirled around his room like a little kid and could barely stop himself from running to the rooftop and shouting, I’m a lawyer! I’m a lawyer!
More than he’d like to admit, he also loved getting to bask in Kristoph’s attention all day. His brother, who could at times be exacting and hard to please, beamed when he’d heard the news.
This calls for a celebration, of course. Kristoph had taken the newly minted lawyer to a Michelin star restaurant, and Klavier vowed to remember the experience forever: the live string quartet, the clinking of silverware and glasses, the herbed risotto and the swig of pinot grigio Kristoph had let him sneak, but most of all the warm glow he felt in his chest whenever Kristoph complimented him.
Now that they were back home, some of the luster had faded, but the two brothers were in good spirits. Kristoph hummed while he undid his braids by the edge of the bed, and Klavier grinned buoyantly as he changed into pajamas.
The seventeen-year-old sidled up beside his brother on the bed. Feeling more daring than usual, he snuggled up close and rested his head on Kristoph’s shoulder. The older man stiffened before seeming to decide he would allow it.
Kristoph’s delicate hand smoothed a lock of short hair from his brother’s forehead. “I’m very proud of you, you know,” he murmured. Klavier sighed, feeling the even tenor of his brother’s voice reverberate against his own ribcage.
“I only want to make you proud, Kristoph,” Klavier nuzzled into his brother’s neck. At those words, Kristoph’s breath changed. Became more audible, from the mouth rather than the nose. Klavier could smell the wine – Kristoph never overindulged, but a glass or two had relaxed his usual iron grip on his emotional reactions. He pulled Klavier closer to him, sighing in one undefended moment of longing.
Klavier had been waiting for a moment like this for years, a deepening of their connection. They’d always been everything to each other – parents, friends, siblings. Why not lovers?
And as he tilted his head up to meet his brother’s gaze, he found a rare look of vulnerability in Kristoph’s eyes, as though he were as surprised as Klavier that this was happening.
“Kristoph….Komm zu Bett mit mir?“ Klavier murmured, stroking Kristoph’s face. “Bitte?”
His brother planted a kiss on Klavier’s forehead. “You used to say that as a child, you know.” He kissed Klavier’s nose, and then his cheeks. “You’d wrap your arms and legs around me and drag me into bed with you, do you remember that?”
Klavier’s skin tingled with anticipation. Warmth spread through his torso like syrup.
A playful kiss tickled his nose. “And if I moved to get up, well, you would cry and cry until I gave in and cuddled you to sleep, hmm?” It was the same gentle tone that Kristoph had used to read stories to him as a child—but now it was tinged with desire. Klavier’s eyes fluttered shut.
When Kristoph spoke again, his lips brushed against Klavier’s with each word. Every time Kristoph’s lips grazed his, it set him on fire, left him aching. He dared not move even a centimeter in case it made his brother pull away. “So sweet and loving…my little ball of warmth….though I knew it was reinforcing your behavior, I would hold you until you fell asleep, every time. Do you know why?”
Klavier tried to form words, but all that came out was a strangled “huuh-uh.” He remembered those nights, nestled into a web of Kristoph’s hair, feeling his heart would burst if he couldn’t feel his brother’s skin on his. And now, Kristoph was going to…..
“Because I like spoiling you,” he breathed into his mouth, down his throat, a bellows sealed with a kiss. Klavier was butter, melting into his older brother’s firm and doting kisses, letting himself be scooped into Kristoph’s lap and carried into bed.
Still not opening his eyes, Klavier experienced the moment through sound and touch: the ruffling of the down comforter, the breeze before it floated back onto them, the shifting of the bed as Kristoph straddled him, the pressure of Kristoph’s lips against Klavier’s willing neck (!)—
“What do you think, Klavier?” Kristoph murmured into his throat. “Should I spoil you some more? After all, it is a very special occasion.”
Klavier could scarcely believe it. He’d never been touched like this. Pinpricks of desire rippled through his abdomen downward, made his tongue heavy and thick in his mouth. Every kiss made his thoughts fuzzier, shutting down the part of his brain that would have come up with a playful response. Instead what fell out of his mouth was a crisp, desperate staccato: “P-please, Kris. Spoil me. Touch me. Tease me. I need it.”
He looked down at his brother, who met his gaze with one corner of his mouth curling upward into a smug smile. “Hmm, since you asked so politely and so eagerly…..I suppose I could indulge you.”
Before Klavier could respond, Kristoph was kissing his way down Klavier’s chest, doting on his most sensitive areas, praising and touching and teasing before finally making Klavier melt into bliss.