MFB38: Dreams and Kisses

Edmund awoke early in the morning with a start, gasping and sweating. It was on account of his dream, in which he had watched Darian making love to Per again, just as he had the night before in the woods, only (to his horror) Darian somehow turned into Peter. Edmund was voiceless in the nightmare, and try as he might to cry out, no sound had issued from his mouth. He was relieved to come to his senses and know that it had only been a dream, but a feeling of sadness and unease remained with him. The hornets were prickling his insides as well.

In the dim light seeping through the tent’s fabric (for it was nearly dawn) he could make out Peter’s sleeping features. Edmund crept over and sat at his brother’s bedside to gaze into his face.

It was just a silly dream, he scolded himself. Peter would never do that to Per! Even if Per wanted him to, he probably wouldn’t, saying that it ‘isn’t proper’ and such. Although I still can’t see what’s so wrong about it… Darian sure seemed to enjoy it, and even Per didn’t seem to mind it at all! I suppose that’s why Darian was twisting his fingers in there so long — to make sure that it didn’t hurt. But that was much more than just ‘helping,’ like what we’ve done… That was the real thing, to put it all the way inside like that! I wonder if Peter’s would fit all the way in, too? His is much bigger, so it might not. I wonder if it wouldn’t feel as good for him, then?

Not for the first time, Edmund imagined Peter’s manhood wedged inside of his own body, and felt a tingle travel along his spine. He knew now that it would not remain there, inert, but move in powerful thrusts until his brother’s male need was satisfied. That thought alone was enough to make his own manhood lift its head in expectation.

That would be so amazing, to have Peter do that to me… to really ‘take pleasure’ in me, and touch me all over, and kiss me like that…

Remembering their passionate kiss from the previous morning, Edmund felt the urge to press his mouth against his brother’s, but did not want to wake him just yet. He did, however, stare at Peter’s thick, full lips with longing, partly basking in the recollection of how they had moved over his skin, wet and hot — devouring him, in a sense — but mostly wishing that they would do that to him again, and many times over.

I wonder if I’m the only one he’s ever kissed like that… he mused, then grimaced a moment later. Oh, drat! He said he’d kissed her once, while she was sleeping. He said it was wonderful… I wonder if he liked kissing me as well? If she was asleep, she couldn’t have done anything, and at least I tried to keep it going! I wonder who it was, though… It has to be someone he could get close to when they were sleeping, probably in the castle — definitely not a Mermaid! Sometimes the Dryads and Naiads stay at the castle… but if it were one of them, he could jolly well ask her to marry him, I should think. Hm… A lot of the Animals come and stay at Cair, too. Maybe she’s a Beast, so there’s no way they could have babies. That must be it! She’s not close enough to being Human for Peter to marry. Of course, he made it sound like she wasn’t even interested in him, but that’s beside the point. The important thing is, if he can’t marry the girl (or Beast, or whomever) he loves, I can at least help him with what he needs — just like the knights in Anvard ‘take pleasure’ in the page-boys until they can marry. And Peter wouldn’t be ‘taking’ it from me, really, since I don’t mind giving it to him! I just have to convince him that it’s all right…

Oblivious to the fact that his brother was making designs upon him, Peter continued to slumber peacefully. However, Edmund’s male member had grown more agitated as he considered how “giving Peter pleasure” was the right, thoughtful, and even honourable thing to do, so he crawled over to find his chamber pot and stimulate his manhood to completion. His mind’s eye was filled with visions of Peter pounding his larger organ into his body, and to the imagined rhythm of his brother’s movements (trying desperately to be quiet about it) he released his seed.

Seeing the whitish substance spattered in the pot and still dripping from his tip, he remembered how Darian had swallowed all of Per’s issue. Experimentally, he took a small bit of it on his finger and sniffed it. Finding that it did not smell as vile as he had expected, he dared to lick it. He grimaced at the strange combination of sour, bitter, and salt, then washed his hands and face in the basin set out for that purpose.

I don’t suppose Peter will want to do that to me, he resigned himself, thinking of how Darian had suckled on Per’s organ. I’m not sure that I’d really want to do that to Peter, either, come to think of it! But then, if I did it for him, he’d be obligated to return the favour, wouldn’t he?

He wondered if there were a tactful way to ask Per about how pleasurable it was, without letting his squire know that he had seen him in such a private moment with his lover. He couldn’t think of one.

Oh, well… I suppose I could give it a go. At least it’s not completely nasty. Although I’d want to make sure that we both washed up first!

Returning to Peter’s bedside, he regarded his brother while considering the biggest obstacle to their joint physical happiness.

He said we mustn’t rub against each other like we did yesterday, ever again, but that’s what he said about helping each other with our hands — and he still helped me after that! I suppose when he wants it badly enough, too, he can’t help himself. Maybe if I just wait for the right moment, I could get him to do it… I’d have to open myself up beforehand, though, so I’d be ready for him…

There was a slight noise outside, as somebody dropped something while preparing the camp’s breakfast. Peter stirred and opened his eyes.

“Edmund,” he remarked warmly, too groggy to be surprised at seeing his brother’s face mere inches from his own. In fact, he had been dreaming about his dark-haired sibling, so it seemed a natural extension of that wonderful dream.

“Say, Peter,” Edmund began, encouraged by his brother’s hazy smile, “can I lie down with you for a while? Just until we have to get up?”

“Of course,” was the immediate response, and Edmund wasted no time in crawling under the covers. Their beds here were clusters of cushions held together by a blanket, and were rather narrow compared to their luxurious beds in the castle, but Edmund managed to get comfortable by pressing his body close to Peter’s.

Peter, however, was growing wider awake by the moment, and although his arms had wrapped themselves around his brother, his smile faltered at the vague sense of foreboding.

“Ed… actually… we shouldn’t…” he began, apologetic for retracting his welcome.

“Don’t worry so,” the younger boy chided. “Besides, I’m already done, and it feels like you are, too.”

This reassurance was delivered with a quick press of his hip against Peter’s nether regions, which were (true enough) already relaxed from having released his seed. Peter’s dream (what he could remember of it) had been quite vivid and satisfying. But the gentle contact gave his heart a jolt, waking him up completely.

“Oh, Ed!” he groaned as his sensitive organ responded stridently to the stimulus.

“Sorry — if it bothers you so, I’ll try not to bump it,” Edmund conceded.

“All right. And don’t… don’t rub against it, like you did yesterday.”

“Oh, all right. I suppose touching it is out of the question?”

“Very definitely out of the question!”

“Fine. But can you at least rub my back?”

“Your back? Why? Is it sore?”

“No, I just like how warm your hands are.”

“Oh. All right.”

As Peter stroked his back and shoulders with slow, soothing motions, Edmund sighed with contentment. He felt perfectly safe and happy as he buried his face in his brother’s neck; however, his mind was racing with a thousand questions, all chasing their tails madly like puppies since they had no answers. Selecting what he considered to be the most innocuous of them, he raised his voice to ask, “Say, Peter?”

“Hm?”

“Can you show me how to kiss again?”

Peter’s hands froze in their movements over Edmund’s back.

“What?” he cried, stunned.

“You know, for practise,” the younger boy said calmly. “I don’t intend to go chasing after girls yet — not for a long while — but it would be dreadfully embarrassing to kiss a girl, only to find out then that I’m bad at it! I am a King of Narnia, after all, and there are expectations that I have to meet. It’s not like I have a lot of choices for people to practise with, either… Susan would make a big fuss over it, and Lucy is still a child. One of the Talking Animals might do, but it wouldn’t be very pleasant (what with their whiskers and all), and I’m not comfortable asking any of the Dryads… although I suppose Per might be willing—”

Peter listened to this litany of candidates with growing dismay but interrupted Edmund when he mentioned his squire.

“That wouldn’t be appropriate at all,” he objected, feeling his heart thump wildly at the thought of his love kissing someone else, even for practise. “If you asked Per, he would feel like he had to do it, whether he wanted to or not! Sure, you could tell him that he can refuse, but it’s not likely that he would.”

“You’re probably right,” Edmund agreed. “So that really leaves you as my only choice — and, if I’m not being too presumptuous, I’m the only reasonable choice for you.”

Reason has nothing to do with this, Peter thought desperately, even as he felt his brother’s arms encircling his neck. But how do I get him to see that?

Before he could find an answer that would defer his brother, Edmund’s soft lips were being pressed upon his own, arousing in him a need that was much greater and more all-encompassing than mere lust. He wanted to taste those lips, to plunder the cavern of the mouth behind them with his tongue, and to revel in the strange sensation of two tongues sliding against each other. He wanted to press that slender body so closely to his own that they ceased to be two separate beings. But he also wanted to protect the brother whom he adored, to defend his body against all enemies who would do him harm — including his own baser nature — as well as to safeguard Edmund’s heart and keep it pure and untouched, if at all possible in a shelter that would preserve his love only for Peter himself. With such powerful emotions surging through him, the High King hardly realised what he was doing as he pushed his brother on to his back, kissing and caressing him with his whole body, pinning him under an onslaught of adoration.

Edmund was pleased to find that his brother succumbed so easily to his advances, and responded to each gesture with a will, opening his mouth to welcome Peter’s probing tongue and wrapping his legs around his brother’s as he had seen Per do to Darian. Of course this led to their privates being pressed together in exactly the manner that Peter had just prohibited, and notwithstanding his recent release, Edmund’s manhood rose to the occasion. However, he was more overcome by the buzzing of the bees within him, as they seemed to fill every part of him from the tips of his ears down to his toes. Feeling as though the ground were falling away beneath him, he clutched at his brother’s broad shoulders, trembling with an unspeakable joy but also somewhat frightened by the intensity of his own reactions. He thought fleetingly that it just might be possible to die of happiness.

When they broke apart, panting and gasping for air, Peter stared hard into his lovely brother’s face, wherein he saw all for which he had yearned these past few years. Edmund’s eyes were brimming with bliss, and Peter knew that his brother was his for the taking. Their two manhoods were also throbbing against each other, reminding him that Edmund — however misguided a notion it might be — was more than willing to help satisfy that need as well. All he had to do was take what was offered him, to “take pleasure” in his brother’s beautiful form, and declare his undying love. He had no doubt, in that moment, that Edmund would respond in like kind.

“Edmund,” Peter moaned, the word a mere whisper on his lips and yet driving daggers of pain through his heart. However, even through the haze of his desire, he knew that what he lusted for was forbidden. After drawing a deep breath, he wrenched himself free from his love’s embrace to lie, bereft and in agony, on the floor beside him.

“Peter?” Edmund asked, surprised.

“We mustn’t, Ed,” was the torturous answer. “It’s… It’s wicked. Father and Mother wouldn’t approve, if they knew. Aslan wouldn’t approve. I’m sure of it.”

Edmund closed his eyes — now the ground had fallen away from beneath him, and he had nothing to cling to.

“How do you know?” he demanded, not ready to relinquish his claim on his brother.

“I just know,” Peter answered. After a moment, he added, “You must know it, too.”

Edmund sat up abruptly and declared, “No, I do not know! All I know is that you’re being an impossible ass about this, when I’m just trying to help you!”

The thunderous look that Edmund shot him nearly broke Peter’s heart, but he grabbed his brother’s hand to keep him from flying off in a rage, and sat up and spoke to him as gently as he could.

“I appreciate that, Ed — really, I do — but it’s just not proper. I thought I had put a stop to it, but… well, I’m not perfect, Edmund, and sometimes I can’t help myself. But I need you to promise that you won’t… won’t try to put me in that sort of position again. Please.

Edmund scowled and fell silent, unwilling to commit himself to such a promise; and indeed, having considered and planned on cornering Peter in exactly that kind of position, hoping for a moment of weakness, he felt sulky and ill-tempered.

“I know that you mean well,” Peter continued, making his brother feel even sulkier because of his guilt, “and I know that it feels good — for the moment, at least. But don’t you see, it needs to be at the right time and with the right person! You told us that the White Witch had offered to make you a king, and that was partly what made you betray us; but even if she had made you king (which I’m pretty sure she never meant to do), it wouldn’t have been as good as having Aslan make you a king in his way. This… what we’ve been doing, may feel all right for now, but just think how much better it will be if you wait until you… meet a girl you really love, and get married, and—”

“I don’t want to meet any girl! I don’t want to get married!” Edmund burst out petulantly. He would have said more, but he choked on his own words.

“Oh, Ed,” Peter murmured, pulling him close to embrace him — this time as his brother. “Please don’t make this so difficult! You’ll just have to trust me that… that it’s really better this way, in the long run.”

“I just want to help you,” he sniffed.

“I know. And thanks.” Peter placed a chaste kiss on Edmund’s forehead. “You’ve been a brick, and I’ve come to rely on you. Now I need you to keep me in line about this, too.”

He peered into his brother’s beautiful brown eyes so that he could not avoid the inherent question. Finally, Edmund nodded, although he also added, “I’ll try. But I can’t promise… Sometimes, I can’t help myself, either.”

“Fair enough,” Peter sighed, hugging him for a moment longer. Then he stood up to wash and get ready for the day. While they were changing into their hunting outfits, a new thought occurred to him.

“I say, Ed… I don’t think kissing is something you need to practise, anyhow.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, (from what little I know of it, mind you) it seems to me that if you love someone, it will be wonderful — regardless of whether you’re good or bad at it.”

Edmund pondered this in silence while combing his hair. When Mr. Tumnus poked his head into the royal tent a minute later, he was shocked to find both kings already awake and dressed for the hunt.


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