The explicit incest begins here so tread carefully. Honestly though, why aren't you reading the AO3 version that has full color illustrations? Plus, it's already fully done on there. It's just a pain to upload here.

What the Moon Saw

The sound of the door opening jolts Christopher awake. He slowly turns to the crack of light between the curtains around his bed. Besides him, he feels Michael shift in response. Christopher's silk pillow rustles when he moves his head, some of the ornaments in his hair getting caught in the fabric. Even when he sleeps, he's still forced to endure the heavy hairstyles and the restrictive dresses. The worst part was waking up, his face covered in makeup from the night before. It felt as if a hand was pressing on his face, suffocating him. Even the sense of peace from greeting the morning sunlight had been stolen from him.

For a few moments, he hears the footsteps slowly walk towards his bed. A thin flicker of hope fills his chest. Perhaps it was their father who had changed his mind. Oh, the things Christopher would tell him! One hand pulls away the curtains and Christopher tries not to show dismay. There was no sunlight filtering in through the curtains this time, nor was there the familiar face of his father. There was only the bedside lamp and Thomas that received him.

"Let's have some play time, shall we? After all, you're still a doll. And dolls love to be played with," whispers Thomas.

Dread fills the pit of Christopher's stomach. He doesn't know what that exactly means, but he can feel his heart beating faster in his chest. Thomas lifts Christopher from the bed and turns towards the door. Sneaking a glance at Michael, Christopher sees that his brother is wide awake. His eyes are wide in worry. Before the door closes behind him, he mouths out one word that Christopher reads with dread. Run.

Useless advice, for he no longer had legs. But the desperation of that word made Christopher's fear escalate. Escape. He looks around the hall, the usual family photographs lining the walls. In the dim light, they looked ominous, as if they were from another world. His mind flashes back to those nights in which Michael was taken from his side.

"Play time" was what Thomas had called it. Oh gods. With what was left of his body, Christopher attempts to wriggle out of Thomas's grasp. His brother's grip tightens around his body. A quick kiss is placed on his cheek. They approach Thomas's room, door ajar. Christopher struggles against Thomas even harder, now unafraid of showing his panic. No. He wouldn't let Thomas do such disgusting things to him. He couldn't.

"Stop it..," murmurs Thomas as he closes the door behind him.

In this situation, he wouldn't care if he had to worm away to escape. Even if his limbs dragged against the floor and he escaped inch-by-inch, it still wouldn't matter. Anything but this. As he's rested on the bed, Christopher vehemently shakes his head. He's put on his best glare, in hopes that Thomas would still fear him. It's worked before...when he was still Christopher. He swallows hard when he's seated against the headboard.

"I want to see how beautiful you are," Thomas says as he climbs onto his bed.

Briefly, Christopher's thoughts go to Michael. This must have happened countless times to him. Bile fills his throat. How could Thomas live with himself? He can't help but flinch when Thomas places a hand on Christopher's cheek. Thomas's eyebrows furrow in worry at the response.

"I'll be gentle. I promise."

With that, he begins to run his lips across Christopher's collarbone. A shiver runs down Christopher's back each time Thomas's lips meet his skin. Any attempts at shifting away from Thomas is met with Thomas's firm hands pushing him back. No, stop, he mouths. Please. His breathing and heart rate accelerate alongside each other. A hand crawls to the back of his dress, fumbling with the zipper. If only he could push Thomas away and slap him. The fingers begin to unlace his stays and he hisses in a rush of anger. No. Stop it. Thomas!

His face is burning with a mixture of indignance and fear. Pulling away from Christopher, Thomas proceeds to take off the dress. Christopher clenches his teeth as the cold air brushes against his shoulders. He mouths protests the entire him his clothes are being removed, worming this way and that to no avail. As Thomas removes the final layer, Christopher is urged to scream. But all he can do is lean his torso to the side, getting the shift stuck for a few moments.

He feels Thomas readjust his body, followed by a slight tsk. The blood roars in his ears as the shift is thrown to the floor. When he looks at Thomas again, all he can see is his desperation. A burning hunger to be loved existed in those eyes. But it wasn't in the way Christopher had wanted it to be. Since when did things go wrong? Was it the fire? The orphanage?

" Now you can't run away anymore…" The memory of Thomas's words bring a chill down Christopher's spine.

His brother's eyes move down to the area between Christopher's legs. Christopher looks up at Thomas with disgust and fear. His body grows rigid when Thomas trails his finger across Christopher's porcelain thigh. With what little strength he has, Christopher tries to back away.

"Shh..," murmurs Thomas.

He draws closer to Christopher, his lips caressing Christopher's chest. A sharp gasp escapes from Christopher when he feels Thomas's fingers wrap around his cock. I swear to God, you do this and I will never forgive you, mouths Christopher in pure anger. Thomas turns up to look at him. His voice is cold when he says the next sentence.

"You're a doll. You have no need to worry about such things."

He kisses Christopher on his lips, eliciting a gasp from him. As Thomas continues to tease Christopher, the hatred for his inability to fight back grows. What kind of a brother was he, allowing Thomas to do such things? Stop it. Don't touch me, mouths Christopher in frustration. Trying to worm away from Thomas proves to be useless, as his brother holds him close, lips encircled around a nipple. The sucking motion brings forth a rush of pleasure that is quickly quashed by disgust. No. He shouldn't be feeling like this.

Thrashing leads to Thomas's chuckle. The sucking intensifies and Christopher swallows a scream. As he thrashes, his body brushes against Thomas's. Thomas begins to move the hand that has ahold of Christopher in motion with the thrashing. A rush fills Christopher's chest and he bites down a moan. Heat fills his cheeks and he immediately stops his struggling in hopes that Thomas would also stop. Yet the pumping motion continues and a breath escapes Christopher's throat. Stop, he begs, holding down another moan. Why did he even bother?

Closing his eyes, he tries to imagine that this wasn't happening to him. That this was merely a long nightmare and soon, he'd wake up in his own bed, safe and sound. Their father would be there, noting how late he was to breakfast. Thomas would look smugly from his breakfast, revelling in his brother's dishevelled appearance. Michael would give him an awkward smile.

Somehow, his hips have started moving alongside Thomas's hand. He clenches his teeth and dives further into his thoughts. His chest falls with a pleasured exhale. No, that couldn't be him. The real Christopher Arclight was in his bed, sleeping peacefully. Not this...doll. Yes. That was all he was. A doll, made to pleasure its master. His cheeks are red from fighting himself for so long. Giving in, he feels his body give itself to Thomas. Even though he knows that this is abhorrent, he raises his hips and presses against Thomas.

You're a bloody hypocrite, snaps Christopher in his head. What is wrong with you?! But this was a doll.

As he's about to climax, he realizes he hasn't felt this good in ages. It almost erased the hell that was now his life. Almost. Abruptly, Thomas releases his hand and Christopher lets out a frustrated huff.

"Relax..," he chuckles. "I'm merely bringing you down."

Once his head is comfortably nestled in Thomas's pillow, it doesn't take long for Thomas to resume. As Christopher arches his back and comes, he vaguely feels Thomas letting go. The seed spatters his chest and a part of his face, but he was far too busy basking in the afterglow to care. He can feel his chest heaving up and down, his face red with embarrassment but also satisfaction.

And then he realizes that his brother had made him feel this way. Bile rises to the top of his throat. He's suddenly aware of the cum on his body, immediately disgusted with himself. His eyes trail to Thomas, who looks down at him with an arrogant smirk.

"Not so haughty now, are we?" chuckles Thomas as he swipes away the cum from Christopher's face.

With a handkerchief, he wipes Christopher's cock. The silk against his heated skin is a blessing, but he's too sick to admit it. He squirms in discomfort, knowing very well that this would only be the first of many times he would be forced to do this. As the rest of his body is wiped down, the gravity of his situation dawns upon him. Not only would he ever move again, but he would have to allow Thomas to "play" with him whenever he wanted. There was no way to fight back.

Thomas lovingly pats his brother's cheek and lays down besides him. He turns off the light and rests his arm over Christopher's chest. Christopher squirms in discomfort as he feels Thomas's breath tickle the back of his neck.

"How about one more time, my queen?"

Christopher is silent as he feels Thomas pull down his trousers. Tears spring to his eyes and he screws them shut. Bending to the whims of his brother like this...it must be how being a doll was like.