Claimer: Our gay boys~
Warnings: Boys sexing it up, incest (first cousins)... language...
Donavan glanced hopefully at his father, waiting just a moment for the ‘good bye’ he never would get. This time, he wasn’t even granted a final look, only a “What are you waiting for? Get going!” Donavan sighed and opened the door, sliding out of the back seat of his father’s automobile and pulling his heavy carpet bag along with him.
“Good bye, father.” He said coolly, pretending not to care that the simple phrase wasn’t reciprocated as he slammed the door shut. Oh well. He’d be spending the summer with his grandfather again this year, and at least the old man gave a damn. At least he’d been to see all of Donavan’s plays. Not only that, but Donavan would be with his cousin, Perceval, who he hadn’t seen since Christmas. All in all, leaving his father’s mansion was never a bad thing really, he only wished his father didn’t see his leaving as such a good thing. Donavan dragged his feet over the gravel the short way up to the grand steps into the house where his grandfather and his cousin were both waiting for him. He smiled, pleased that they’d come to meet him instead of waiting inside. “Hello grandfather.” He gulped, mustering all the politeness he could and bowing the way he did on stage. He tended to get a lot wrong, and his grandfather rarely let it slide. This time though, he’d been lucky and his grandfather found his performance satisfactory. At a nod of approval from the old man, Donavan relaxed, an easy grin spreading over his face as he turned to his cousin. “Hi Perceval.”
"Hello, Donavan," Perceval replied stiffly, raising his chin in haughty disapproval. Though he always anticipated his cousin's arrival with some anxiety (and it was only because Donavan was about his age and provided a companionship that Perceval usually didn't have), he would never admit it, and he still looked down at Donavan's offensive shortcomings in behavior and dress. After all, he never used proper manners and failed at polite discourse, and who on earth would wear such gaudy, unattractive clothes?
Perceval simply didn't approve of Donavan, and he knew he never would.
Despite that, however, Perceval had spent even longer than usual today preparing for the day. He had risen especially early so that he might take an extra long shower, and had the servants dry and brush his waist-length hair until he deemed it perfect. He had chosen an outfit of all white, with pale green and silver accents, because, after all, it was summer, and spent another good hour dressing and straightening himself in front of the mirror. By the time he considered himself presentable, he had become rather excited, though he wouldn't admit it, and barely touched his breakfast before following his grandfather outside to greet the guest.
But now, Perceval couldn't even remember why he had been excited; Donavan was as despicable disrespectful as ever, still, he had to be the bigger person and retain his comportment. "Let me help you with your things," he said tightly, pursing his lips slightly, taking the bag and handing it off to a servant.
“Thanks,” Donavan nodded his appreciation with a laugh in his voice. His cousin looked good—perhaps too good to be human, or something. Donavan knew he spent a long time making himself up, but sometimes it was ridiculous. Still, he couldn’t deny that there was beauty in the simple elegance of his clothing and the way his long hair was arranged so perfectly around his shoulders. A servant held the door open for them, and they followed their grandfather inside.
“I’ll take this up to your room, sir.” A servant informed Donavan, bowing profusely before turning to go.
“I hope it’s as I left it?” Donavan stopped him.
“Oh yes, of course, sir.” The servant assured him, bowing again three times for good measure. Donavan smirked and turned back to Perceval. He was glad to know that his things hadn’t been disturbed; he had some good stuff stored in his room at his grandfather’s—everything he’d stolen from his father.
“So,” he asked, “How’ve ya’ been?” Donavan liked to be especially casual with Perceval because he knew how much it upset him, and now that their grandfather had disappeared into a study, he was free to be as rude as he liked.
Perceval stopped in his tracks and spun on his heel to glower at Donavan. Still, he knew he couldn't lose his cool, he couldn't drop to the level of his young and immature cousin. Brushing his hair over his shoulder to calm himself, he sniffed distastefully and replied, "I've been well, thank you. And yourself?" Somehow, he managed to keep his voice from shaking; despite how upset Donavan's lack of manners made him, he had to pretend otherwise.
Taking a few more strides into the house, he paused and turned again. Now that his grandfather was gone and had left him with the unfortunate being that was his cousin, it was his duty to be the good host, as it always was, for the entirety of Donavan's stay. As much as it pained him, he'd have to find a way to act civil. Plastering a smile on his face and smoothing his knickers subconsciously, he asked, "What would you like to do, Donavan? I know you must want to get settled in... but, if you'd rather, there's still all the lawn sports." Perceval really didn't want to have to play with Donavan, but if he asked to, it was his unlucky job, and still, he couldn't resist bragging. "We had a new bocce set made for this summer."
“Let’s play a game, then.” Donavan grinned. “We have to break in your new set, right?” He laughed easily and hit Perceval on the shoulder in a familiar way—something he knew the other would hate. Smirking, Donavan stuffed his hands into his pockets in a most unbecoming manner and strode ahead of Perceval on the way to the backyard. He knew the way, so he turned around and started walking backwards so that he could talk to his cousin and still see his reactions. “Hey, did you see my play? I was the lead female this time.” He said proudly. After all, if Perceval could brag about his new bocce set, Donavan could certainly brag about his latest role, too.
Dismayed, Perceval followed Donavan to the backyard, knowing that Donavan was acting the way he was just to irritate him. In reality, it was working quite well, but Perceval knew he couldn't give Donavan the pleasure of knowing that, so he clenched his teeth and put a smile on, trying hard not to think of the way Donavan was ruining his shoes by walking that way, or how horribly rude it was for him to put his hands in his pocket the way he had. "Of course I did, Donavan," he replied in his most pleasant manner, "You did very well, of course, as always." Donavan's acting, though really a low-class hobby, was one thing about him that bothered Perceval the least; after all, when he was acting, he had to act proper and well-mannered.
When they reached the backyard, Perceval retrieved the bocce set and opened the large wooden box, setting it on the table. "You can choose your colour," he invited politely, gesturing to the eight bronze balls, four painted with a red stripe and four with a blue one. He hoped internally that Donavan would be the gentleman and offer him the jack, but he doubted it, and wished that, at the least, Donavan would play fair.
“I’ll be red. Donavan stated, taking the jack out of the crate. He smirked tested the jack’s weight, considering how best to throw it. Having decided, he turned out towards the law and asked over his shoulder, “Do you mind if I throw the jack?” He didn’t wait for Perceval’s answer, instead tossing the jack a good 25 meters in front of them. Pleased with this throw, he turned to Perceval and grinned before grabbing one of his red balls and bowling it towards the jack. It was a pretty good toss, and he was just getting started. “Your turn, “ he chimed, practically daring Perceval to beat his throw.
Perceval pursed his lips, glaring at the back of Donavan's head as he threw the ball, but somehow managing to get his face back in place when he turned. He nodded, instinctually smoothing his clothes before delicately lifting the first blue ball from the box. Moving beside where Donavan stood, marking it as the line, he gazed out at the jack, then carefully tossed his ball underhand. He had put his force into it, but, unfortunately, Perceval's delicately slender arms simply couldn't exert enough thrust to get the ball far enough, and it fell a deal short. Scowling for a moment, he turned and smiled to Donavan, melodiously chiming, "Your turn." This was why he always hated playing games with Donavan; he always lost, and Donavan made it simply unbearable.
“There, there, cousin.” Donavan sighed, patting Perceval comfortingly on the shoulder. “Better luck on your next throw, hmm?” He sniggered and got his next ball, not aiming for the jack as much as for Perceval’s ball. He throw it hard, and it glanced off of his cousins, sending it flying even further away, and causing his own red ball to roll to a stop even closer to the jack than his first. “Oh no! I’m so sorry!” Donavan gasped theatrically, covering his mouth with his hand.
"No need, cousin," Perceval managed to reply through clenched teeth, worrying his smile probably appeared more like a grimace. Well, two could play at that game, and he elegantly brushed his hair back off his shoulders before selecting another ball and gazing out into the lawn. Taking aim, he sent his ball towards Donavan's, on a path to knock it away, but on its way down, the ball hit a patch of uneven turf and bounced to the side, nowhere near any of the others. Gritting his teeth, he stepped back, not able even to manage words for his supreme irritation at the situation and at Donavan.
“Wow.” Donavan whistled at the incredibly bad throw. “This game won’t be any fun unless you aim for the same thing I do.” He commented knowingly as he got his next ball and tossed it. It went a fair distance, but wasn’t quite as close to the jack as he would’ve liked. He made a face, but at least he wasn’t doing nearly as bad as Perceval was.
Perceval shot Donavan a glare and said nothing, selecting his next ball and stepping up beside his cousin. After hesitating a moment, he threw the ball, and this time, it bounced a few times and landed generally close to the jack. Though, he noticed, much to his ire, not as close as Donavan's balls. Still, at least hopefully Donavan wouldn't be a jerk about this one, and maybe, if Donavan deemed him too poor of a player, he'd get to stop, and could actually have some time to himself, without Donavan there to irritate him.
Donavan smirked, deciding he’d allow Perceval’s ball to remain where it was out of pity. He didn’t want his cousin to cry, or anything like that, and as he seemed to be getting more and more upset with each throw, Donavan wanted to play it safe. This time, he took aim for the ball he’d just thrown, and managed to knock it much closer to the jack, while still getting his ball pretty close, too. He stepped back to admire his work and wiped his hands on his knickers. It was a game well won. “Do you still want to throw your last ball, even though the game is practically already decided?”
"Of course!" Perceval replied rather snappishly, collecting his last ball and throwing it with all his might. By some miracle, it landed quite close to the jack, but then bounced over it, rolling farther away. Having failed, Perceval clenched his teeth and turned to Donavan, barely managing a "Congratulations." If Donavan began to brag or act like a jerk, he didn't know how much of it he could take.
“Oops! Too bad! It looks like I won!” Donavan gloated, doing a little hop out of pure silliness. He loved being better at things than his cousin. He folded his arms, allowing his most arrogant smirk to settle on his features. “There has to be a prize for winning, right? How about for starters, the loser has to go get all the balls and bring them back for round two. That’s fair, right?” He paused looking over his cousin. “Oh wait,” he said in mock surprise, “can you even carry them all? You look pretty weak to me…” Perceval was even scrawnier than he was, and he was the one who was supposed to look like a girl.
Perceval glowered back at Donavan, unable to say anything for fear of his voice being unsteady. However, when Donavan finished his gloating with an insult to Perceval, he totally lost it. How could someone be so rude, so uncaring, and not even pretend to be pleasant to others? He couldn't stand it, not when he was the target of his cousin's maliciousness, and be broke down, beginning to cry. He hated to lose his dignity like this, especially in front of Donavan, but he couldn't take it anymore, he simply couldn't. He wiped at his eyes and looked down in an attempt to hide his tears, but it was no use, and he just kept crying.
“H-hey,” Donavan said softly, biting his lip and suddenly feeling very ashamed. “I’m sorry…” he looked down at the ground and swallowed, unsure of what to do. He didn’t like seeing Perceval cry, and he especially didn’t like knowing it was his fault. As much as he enjoyed annoying Perceval, and even though he knew his cousin didn’t like him at all, Donavan really genuinely liked Perceval a lot, and hated to hurt him. “I’ll go get the balls,” he said hopefully. Maybe the offer would make up for his previous inconsideration? He grabbed the crate and hurried off at top speed to collect all the thrown balls and bring them back, setting the crate down at Perceval’s feet and smiling sycophantically, praying he’d resolved the situation.
Perceval sniffed pathetically, looking down at the box at his feet then back to Donavan. "Thank you," he hiccupped, determined to be polite, even in the current situation. Wiping at his tears again, he swallowed before bending over to lift the box and return it to its proper place. Sniffing again, he straightened out his jacket, taking a deep breath. He was calming down now; he knew Donavan was always a jerk, no matter what, and that he hadn't intended to upset him so much, and really he was almost touched that he had tried to make him feel better. Still, his face was now flushed from crying, his cheeks tear-stained and nose running. "I- I need to go clean up," he said hesitantly, his disinclination to be a bad host overpowered by his need to look presentable. "Sorry- Do you mind going back in?" Now that his fit had subsided, he felt somewhat awkward and embarrassed about it, despite his definite belief that it was all Donavan's fault in the first place. "We can do whatever you like afterwards..." He narrowed his eyes, adding, "Hopefully you can keep this from happening again." After all, it really was Donavan's fault, in the end.
“I don't know about that,” Donavan laughed uneasily. “But I’ll do my best.” He was amused by his cousin’s urgent need to clean up—it wasn’t like Donavan cared, and hopefully, Perceval realized that. Still, he nodded and placed his hands on his hips. “Yeah, we can go in. I know you don’t want to get your assed kicked again, so it’s probably better we quit now.” He grinned, starting back towards the house without waiting for a response.
Perceval stuck out his tongue at Donavan's back before jogging to catch up with him, only slowing once he was in front of his cousin. He stayed ahead, however, because his legs were longer, and led the way back to the house. Losing Donavan somewhere along the way, Perceval hurried to his bedroom, twisting his hair up and pinning it to the back of his head before undressing carefully. Slipping into his bathrobe, he strode to the bathroom and began running the hot water into his large, gold-footed tub, only removing the robe once the bath was run. Sliding into the steaming water without flinching, Perceval easily relaxed and sighed, letting his eyes slide closed. After having to deal with the likes of Donavan for so long already, the chance to relax, he felt, was well earned.
Donavan didn’t bother to try and keep up with Perceval. He went slowly up the stairs at his own leisurely place to his room, taking in everything. Nothing had changed since Christmas, and his room, too, was just the way he’d left it. The only exception was that his bag had been placed on his bed and the clothes he’d brought along had already been neatly unpacked and hung in the closet. He tossed the bag and what remained inside it under his bed and knelt to the ground. He had to confirm something. He rolled back the carpet hastily, removed a coin from his pocket, and used the small round disk as a leaver to pry a floor board up. Sure enough, all of his secret contraband had remained undiscovered and was there waiting for him. Smirking, he breathed a theatrical sigh of relief and re-hid his hoard. Straightening up, he brushed of his knickers and headed for the door. He felt like seeing was Perceval was up to, and hoped his cousin had finished doing whatever he was in such a hurry to get done.
He found Perceval’s bedroom door unlocked, which he took as an open invitation to enter and strode inside without knocking. When he didn’t find Perceval, he carefully shut the door behind him, and tiptoed through the attached sitting area of Perceval’s room. Donavan was somewhat dismayed to find Perceval’s bedroom empty, and wondered briefly whether he’d gone somewhere else, before realizing that the light was on in the bathroom and the door was partially open. Donavan’s first thought was that he should leave, but upon further consideration, he realized that if he left now, he’d never forgive himself for missing the opportunity to see his overly shy cousin bathing. It would be the perfect thing, he thought, to tease his cousin about later. Besides, seeing him naked, bathing, might just be the only chance Donavan would ever get to see Perceval actually relaxed and maybe happy. Additionally, Donavan was curious. Perceval was tall and slim, like a girl, and though Donavan had never seen him even take off his coat, he was certain his cousin was very attractive, even for a guy.
Perceval sighed again with contentment, shifting in the water to grab his sponge and soap. After applying the soap to the sponge, he rose to his knees in the bath in order to begin cleaning his body. First washing his chest, arms and shoulders, he then arched around slightly to clean his back. He was flexible and it wasn't too much of a problem, but he still had to stretch, and made sure to do it carefully, not wanting to have to bend a second time.
Donavan’s eyes widened and he leaned a little further, careful to remain out of sight, but desperate for a better view. He’d had no idea he’d get a whole show, and he was damn glad he’d decided to stick around. Perceval was so skinny, he could barely believe it. Not skinny in a bad way…but he really was just like a girl, without the boobs, and on Perceval, Donavan didn’t miss them—it only made him seem all the sleeker...all the more strangely alluring. He mentally scolded himself for being as turned on as he was; he’d never liked boys before, but Perceval was an exception…which was perhaps even worse, owing to the fact that they were indeed first cousins… But Donavan was not going to leave, not after what he’d seen so far, and he could only hope there was more to come. Watching his cousin was definitely better than the stuff he’s swiped from his father, by far.
Having deemed his back clean, Perceval moved to his stomach, then hips, his hands slowly disappearing under the water. However, just as he was scrubbing his thighs, the sponge slipped out of his hands and floated beneath the water. Sighing in annoyance, Perceval rose to his feet, spreading them a little so that he would have some stability in the slippery tub, and bent over, reaching under the water to retrieve the sponge. Having found it, he turned, finishing cleaning his inner thighs and calves before once more sitting back into the warm water and relaxing. He would give himself a little longer before he forced himself back to his obnoxious cousin.
When Perceval turned, Donavan darted behind the door, his heart racing and his head pounding. He couldn’t help but think how incredibly lucky he’d been that his cousin dropped his sponge right when he did, because damn, he had a nice ass. Tight, thin…perfect. Donavan shivered at the memory of it, and turned around again, carefully peering back into the bathroom. Perceval had settled back into the bath again, and there wasn’t much to see any more…he was probably nearing the end of his bath, and sadly, Donavan knew it would be prudent to leave now. Still, he couldn’t be too disappointed; it’d been the show of a lifetime, and Donavan knew he’d never forget it…he just prayed he’s still be able to look at his cousin after this, even clothed, without getting a hard on.
The water was beginning to get lukewarm, and finally, though he hated to, Perceval had to get out of the bath. Rising, he pulled the drain before stepping out, drying himself with a towel and slipping back into his bathrobe. He made his way back to his bedroom, opting to dress in darker greens and golds for the evening, and letting his hair back down once he was clothed. He spent another good fifteen minutes in front of the mirror, making sure his appearance was perfect, fingering his hair and clothes until finally he deemed everything all right. Glancing to the clock, he realized it was almost time for dinner, and stepped out of his room, looking to find Donavan before it was time to eat.
Perceval found Donavan reclining in his room with a book. He looked like he’d been there the whole time, though Donavan hadn’t actually read a word. In fact, though he was looking at page two hundred-something, if Perceval had asked what the title of the book was, he wouldn’t have been able to say. His mind was elsewhere, going over every detail of Perceval’s beautiful body over and over again, and it remained that way all throughout dinner. Donavan hardly spoke, and only when his grandfather addressed him directly did he take his eyes off of Perceval. Somehow, he managed to stare at his cousin discreetly, pretending to be focused on various other inconsequential things, but always looking, always imagining. He replayed the scene over and over again in his head, and each time, Donavan did something different. If he’d only gotten there sooner, or stayed a little longer, he might have gotten to see more. Or, in his wildest day dreams, he actually went into the bathroom and… He tried not to think about what he’d do if he were with Perceval, naked in a room.
At last when dinner was over, Donavan wadded up his silk napkin and slammed it in front of him on the table, hitting the silverware in a loud manner that earned him a stern look from his grandfather, before getting to his feet. He bowed deeply, and before he’d even straightened completely, he was already spewing the requisite ‘thank yous’. “Thank you so much for dinner, grandfather, and for letting me stay with you again this summer. Dinner was delicious, but I’m afraid I’m pretty tired, and I’d like to go to bed early. Good night, cousin,” he turned to Perceval briefly, and made himself look at his plate instead of his gorgeous delicate face. How had he never noticed it before? “I’ll see you both in the morning. Sleep well.” He finished hastily and hurried out of the room before either of them could say anything. As soon as he was up the stairs, he tore down the hall at top speed and skidded to a halt only once he was safely in his own room. He locked the door and sighed with relief, falling onto his bed and loosening his knickers. He wouldn’t be going to sleep just yet, but hopefully by the time he had to see Perceval and again in the morning, both his nerves and his hormones would have calmed down.
Perceval wondered vaguely why Donavan was acting so strangely all evening, but really, he didn't care too terribly much, and he went to bed soon after dinner, as well. Morning came and he rose as early as usual, having his hair taken out of its long braid and brushed straight before selecting a pale blue outfit for the day and dressing carefully in front of his mirror. When he deemed himself presentable, he went out, heading down to breakfast to see if Donavan was present. Hopefully, he'd be a little more tolerable today than he had been yesterday.