Disclaimer: Not mine, and kinda glad about it.
Thanks to D6 for not shooting me
This be brotherly slash, so flames will be used to torture puppies.
AN: ok, last time I fucked up, so let's make it R, just to be sure mutters
Midnight stars
The prince of Troy wanders through the palace halls, looking lost inside his own house. Today he thought he killed Aquilles. Today he didn't; and he knows, tomorrow for that he'll die. He thinks it fair. If any of the Achaeans had claimed his brother's life the entire greek fleet would be in fire by now. So why could not Aquilles hold that right?
Hector finds himself at his brother's door; he scolds his hand as it reaches to try it open, but discovers he is unable to stop. The entrance is unlocked and he knows it can only mean his brother is alone. He pushes the door as his mind yells its last attempt to awake his sanity.
He stops when he sees Paris sitting down on the floor by the window, his head leaning on the sill, gazing up at the moon; his body is wrapped in a cloak the colour of the midnight above him, his brother's eyes are dark and strange under his lashes.
"Paris" he whispers before he can stop his mouth from uttering it.
The young prince does not turn around to meet him; instead he stands up slowly and walks to the door mere inches behind Hector and closes it.
Hector lets his eyes be covered with darkness as he is guided to the bed by a gentle hand around his wrist. He allows Paris to turn him around and lower him to the bed.
"Brother" the younger calls, Hector responds by opening his eyes and burying them in the form kneeling between his legs, noticing a pair of stars shinning in the dark orbs of his kin.
He barely registers Paris working on his breastplate and setting it aside; what brings him back to his senses in feeling his brother's mouth on his chest.
Paris presses his lips to his brother's skin, feeling the painfully even heartbeat against his mouth; he sinks his face into that rhythm, wishing he could live in there, forever cradled inside his brother's chest.
Hector's hand reaches the back of Paris' head and pulls him closer "I killed a boy today" he whispers, his voice trembling against his brother's cheek "he was so young" he continues, moving his fingers through black curls. He feels arms sliding around him. "It could have been you" he takes the youth's head in his palms and forces it up, so Paris is looking at him "it could have been you"
"But it wasn't" claims Paris trying to soothe him
"It will be" he says caressing his brother's face, "Promise me you won't leave for the fields, promise me you will not leave the palace" he demands desperately, he tightens his hold on Paris' head urging him to answer.
"Let the Gods strike me down if I am to act against your wishes"
His brother kisses him, in one touch, Paris makes him forget that this shall be last time he looks up at the stars and forsakes them to his brother's beauty; that tomorrow simply will not be. He loses himself in Paris, letting him cover his mind in that kind oblivion he knows won't last.
"Do you love me, brother?" asks Paris against his mouth. Hector feels anger fill his chest. How dare he doubt his love when his every move screams it so loud the city walls tremble under its power? How can Paris utter those words when has seen him surrender Troy's peace to please him?
When he knows Hector would torn his own body open and pour his blood at his feet to show him his love cannot get any greater. When he knows he already has.
So he lets silence remain impassive and keeps answering until Paris' back cries his name and between kisses drags him along into slumber.