Work Text:
Feral sat on blankets huddled in the corner of the room, chewing on a blackroot stem absently. He was waiting and listening, but could only hear grunts and shrieks of others, celebrating the new moon in universal Dathomirian way: wrestling around. Two small-lights cast greenish colors on the walls and ceiling, where occasional flicker of the bonfire would glint. Through the window he could only see the smoke ascending into the night sky.
The door hissed open and his brother stepped in, finally, carrying large meals container. Feral felt his mouth twisting into a smile and spat away the blackroot.
"Smells good, Savage. Wildpork?"
"Got us the best chunk", said Savage and shook the container. He dropped beside Feral on the blankets and propped his back against the wall.
Feral took the container from his hands and opened it. Inside there was not only wildpork, but also black ryce with peas. Golden crust on the meat had his mouth flooded with saliva. He grabbed it and bit into it, catching the juice running down his fingers with his lips.
Savage sideeyed him and chuckled "Hungry little animal". Feral elbowed him in response. They pushed each other around for a few seconds before Savage got himself busy with the food as well, humming his delight at the taste of fresh roast.
Being only ones inside the dwelling they did not have to hurry, still the container was emptied in ten minutes. They put it aside and sucked their fingers clean. The palms remained greasy and Feral contemplated getting up to snatch a cloth. He felt blessedly full and comfy here on the floor, side pressed to his brother's, and did not want to move.
To have a dwelling to themselves like that was rare occasion. Feral liked moon-celebrations held twice every Dathomirian month, but he liked his alone-time with brother more. Savage did not engage with anyone but him this evening, and when Feral was brawling with others, he only watched. Feral secretly enjoyed being watched over like that. He felt safe, knew his brother always had his back and vise versa. Savage's eyes on him, he fought harder, indulging in this rare aspiration to show off for him.
After winning his last spar, Feral was rewarded with a curt praise and a hug and then invited to go inside. Savage actually did not care about celebrations and tolerated them mostly for the food and for Feral's sake. Feral was grateful. He liked to be spoiled, too, so he allowed Savage to go get food for them both, while he slouched on the blanket nest.
Savage leaned over him and grabbed dirty container. He deposited it in the cleaner, tossed soft handcloth at Feral and disappeared into the 'fresher. Feral wiped his hands thorougly. It was very undignified of him to find such comfort in affection, in being cared for, in having his needs tended to by other. Life of a Nightbrother is a life of service. One must always be prepared to pledge his life to a Nightsister, to be taken away and to serve in whatever way it will be wished for. But after Maul had left them, Savage promised to little Feral that Sisters will never have him. He stepped into the role of his protector and remained there, quiet and sure. Just how easy it was to lean into that firmness his brother had become. Feral tried his best not to do so often. Becoming too soft on a planet like theirs was lethal.
The hiss of the 'fresher door broke him out of his reverie. Savage lowered himself back on the blankets and put an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. Feral shifted, positioning himself more comfortably, back pressed to Savage's belly, head resting on his shoulder, hips against his brother's right thigh. Savage held him by his waist with one arm. Settled like that, they spent some time watching ancient Republican holodrama on the datapad Feral borrowed. They did not have decent holonet in the village and very few datapads with a limited collection of books and holos. These old datapads constantly circulated between all of them, more so when someone managed to get anything new.
Feral suspected his brother did not pay any attention to the holo at all, because at some point his hand sprang up and started petting Feral's scalp, fingers tracing the skin around the horns gently. This was an old habit of his that indicated Savage was deep in thought. The sensation was as pleasant as ever, and familiar warmth stirred to life in Feral's lower abdomen in responce. It started spreading to his chest and face, and, surely, he was flushed soon.
This, now, was the part that made Feral very uneasy. He lived through nasty wet dreams and awkward boners his teenage years brought, but this heat he felt now, this attraction - it remained. Feral was not sure what to think of it. Would it pass, too, if he waited some more? Or was it permanent? Had he not felt so strongly about Savage, he would simply tell him and maybe they would fuck occasionally. But he wanted, badly, to be desired by him in the same way. He would only touch him if he knew the touch was welcome. He would only make love to him if he knew there was that love bewtween them. The idea of emotionless sex was of no interest to Feral, it was almost repulsive. Surely, Savage loved him, he made this very clear, but he never expressed any particluar interest in his body. His touch was light and spoke only of the brotherly love they shared. Nevertheless, this same touch never failed to awaken the heat and want Feral kept tucked away most of the time.
Obeying the urge to reciprocate the caress, Feral placed his hand on the older zabrak's forearm and rubbed the wrist lightly with his fingers. This was safe. Then he felt wet touch of lips to his temple. This... was not. The warmth in his belly turned to heat and tugged at his insides mercilessly. Feral pulled his knees up trying to ease the tension. It didn't help. Savage continued to pet him, his fingers now grazing his cheekbone, ear, neck. Feral felt himself melting. This was so good and at the same time felt like torture.
He wanted to touch more of him, wanted to feel more kisses on his skin, wanted to press close, wanted to... He stopped himself. He would only reciprocate, and nothing more. Feral lifted his other hand hesitantly and placed it on his brother's shoulder, feeling his way towards his neck and stroking gently. At that, his brother tensed. His fingers froze for a split second and Feral stilled, too. Savage let out a stiff breath and resumed his caress, but Feral could not make his hand move again. Why did Savage reacted like that? Was that unpleasant, unwanted? Why would it be? They are brothers and--
Savage moved a little and Feral felt another kiss on his cheek, on his brow, on his forhead. Rough palm landed on top of his hand where it still rested on Savage's neck and their fingers interlaced.
Feral closed his eyes and bit his lip. He dared not to make a sound. The kisses and the touch, it was... Invitation. Reassurance. He is welcome to recipocate, then. He turned around in his brothers lap, straddling Savage's thighs, hiding his face at the crook of his neck, afraid to look him in the eye just yet. He grasped him by the shoulders, feeling flesh and bone beneath his palms, and touched his skin with his lips. Savage gasped. More sure now, Feral kissed his neck again, wet and slow, and then again. He could not quite believe his ears, but his brother... moaned. There was answering tug deep in his gut, muscle spams running through his lower abdomen. He shivered and groaned against Savage's throat.
Savage pulled him closer by his hips and squeezed in tight embrace. Feral's heated flesh met with his brother's belly and the sensation made him hiss. Too good, not enough... this... He rocked his hips, grinding into his brother's body, slowly, not able now to stop sounds escaping him.
"Feral...", he heard, and was pushed away, just enough to lock eyes with Savage. He looked... his eyes looked so dark, so strange and yet familiar, his gaze burning Feral's face. He could not look away, mesmerized.
"Tell me to stop and I will", he promised. Savage huffed and shook his head, his hand moving to cup Feral's nape. Savage leant in close and kissed him, wet, hot, teeth and tongue. The words were breathed against his mouth, "Don't stop".