Everything the same~
Donavan ripped the sheets off of his bed and waded them into a tight ball, stuffing them into a corner before summoning the servants to put clean sheets on his bed. He showed them the wad in the corner and folded his arms, making a face of disgust. “They were filthy. I can’t believe I was expected to sleep in such a mess! I told you not to touch anything in my room while I was away, but I did expect you to make my bed for me!” Donavan shouted at the three female servants as they hurriedly began to replace the sheets with fresh ones. Once the bed was made, they retrieved the wad from the corner and retreated as fast as they could, each one internally blaming the others for forgetting to change the sheets—except, of course, the one that actually had changed the sheets—she was cursing wealthy people for being entirely too fickle.
Donavan removed his night shift disgustedly and stashed it under his newly made bed. While he’d been able to make up an excuse as to why he wanted the sheets cleaned, a foolishly paranoid part of him didn’t want the servant who did the washing to see the mess he’d made and know by his shift that it was his. It was stupid, and he knew it; after all, it wasn’t as if they’d be able to tell just what he’d been dreaming about that had caused him to wake up in the middle of the night flushed, sweating, and sticky with his own cum. He blushed darkly at the very memory of the dream in which he and Perceval had been taking a bath together. He gulped, going over the scene in his head again, reliving the moment when he’d pushed Perceval against the bathroom wall and forced their hips together and kissed him until they were both breathless. His dream had been in vivid detail, and he could still imagine the way it had felt when Perceval touched him…
He shook his head angrily to clear it and stood abruptly. He should not be thinking about his cousin in that way, he scolded himself. Perceval was a prude, anyway, he rationalized, and would never ever be interested in him. Maybe, though, another part of Donavan reasoned, a good fuck was exactly what his cousin needed to loosen up? Donavan gulped, and tried to pretend that the thought hadn’t just crossed his mind because he knew that if given the opportunity to dwell on it, that excuse would be all that he needed as justification. He dressed hastily, focusing all his thoughts on reciting a play to himself as he prepared for the day. If he could simply force himself to think about lines and cues all day, perhaps he could keep up some semblance of normalcy around his cousin.
Perceval was irritated when Donavan didn't come to breakfast at all, and decided that this gave him the complete right to ignore him for the time being. However, his grandfather informed him at the end of breakfast that it was his job to go find Donavan, much to Perceval's great ire, and so after he had eaten, he set off upstairs to find his cousin. Knocking on his door, he called, with his sweetest tone to cover his irritation, "Cousin? Are you feeling all right? You missed breakfast."
Donavan didn’t answer, struggling internally as he tried to decide how to respond. He’d intentionally missed breakfast—he wasn’t ready to see Perceval just yet—but now his cousin had come to check on him! He didn’t want to see Perceval…and yet, he didn’t want to seem like he was acting any differently than usual. He was worried that if he seemed different that somehow, Perceval would know why… But he had to suck it up and deal. After all, today was only the first day of his visit, and he still had an entire summer to get through. Slowly, he opened the door and peeked out, blushing almost immediately when his saw Perceval waiting outside for him. “I know.” He said, opening the door for his cousin and backing away, crossing his arms and struggling to bring his blush down. “I’m fine—I just wasn’t hungry this morning. That’s all.” Hopefully he sounded normal. Hopefully Perceval would leave…even though deep down, Donavan wanted him to stay.
"Are you feeling well?" Perceval asked, slightly worried that Donavan had gotten sick. "Should I call someone?" Donavan looked all right, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. "Or do you want to do something? Need anything?" Somehow it was easier to be polite to Donavan when he wasn't acting like a big jerk...and he was a little flushed. Maybe he really was sick. Perceval knew he should be happy at the thought of being rid of him for some time, but he felt a little let down, on top of his worry.
“I just said I’m fine!” Donavan said loudly, his tone quite a bit more defensive than he’d intended. “I just wasn’t hungry—that’s all.” He uncrossed his arms and looked down at the floor, somewhat touched Perceval was acting so worried about him and that he hadn’t just left. “What do you want to do? I want to do something, but it’s your house, so you have to come up with something.” It was the argument he’d used since he was little, but it was appropriate, and it always worked because Perceval always went to such great lengths to play the good host.
"All right," Perceval nodded, wondering what exactly what was up with his cousin but not caring enough to pry. "Well, there's chess, or backgammon?" he suggested blandly, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear. "Or, if you wanted, we could go outside again." He smiled, taking some pleasure in turnabout. "You're the guest. Whatever pleases you."
Donavan made a face and dropped on to his bed. “No, all that stuff is boring.” He whined. He had no patience for board games, and if they did end up playing anything like that, he was sure he’d end up staring at Perceval the whole time, which would be a big problem that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to explain away.
He looked down at the floor, trying to come up with an idea, and his eyes wandered to Perceval’s feet and up his legs. He had nice legs, considering how scrawny the rest of him was… Donavan knew Perceval danced, and that was surely why his calves were so damn nice. His tall stalking really showed them off, too, and his neatly pressed and perfectly smooth knickers and… Donavan stopped his eyes from traveling any further up Perceval’s body and forced himself to think about plays. He needed a line—anything—to recite right away, before he got distracted again.
“Oh,” he said with a somewhat nervous laugh. “I have an idea.” The thought of acting had lead him to the idea of costumes and makeup, and just how damn good Perceval would look in a dress… But that wasn’t the point. “I brought my stage makeup with me,” He stated, getting down off his bed and rummaging underneath it for his bag. He blushed fiercely when he came across his nightshift and pushed it aside hurriedly, drawing out the bag and extracting his kit. “I’m supposed to practice. Would you mind if I used you as a model?” he blushed again as he asked, and he began to worry all at once that it really wasn’t the best idea… Putting makeup on Perceval meant that he’d be looking at him the whole time…staring into his eyes…But he’d already said it. Hopefully Perceval would reject the idea, but once again, Donavan couldn’t help but hope he’d be willing to go a log with it.
Perceval stared. "Makeup? On me?" The idea of acting makeup on him, a person of society, was insulting, yet Perceval was intrigued, despite the upset in propriety. After all, makeup was supposed to make a person look better, and Percy wanted to do anything he could to perfect his appearance... so maybe makeup wasn't such a bad idea at all. Still, it was Donavan, and Donavan was not to be trusted... but then again, agreement was what was polite. Convincing himself, he nodded. "All right." He walked farther into Donavan's room, then hesitated. "But! Don't do anything to make me regret doing this," he warned, giving Donavan a look that meant business for a moment before pasting his smile back on.
“Oh, I won’t,” Donavan couldn’t help but smirk at the look Perceval had given him. Frankly, he couldn’t take his cousin very seriously at all, and he had to work to suppress a laugh. “Have a seat!” he gestured to his bed and began setting out the various parts of his makeup set, busying himself as much as possible so as not to think about what he was about to do. “Oh…” he stated, blushing as he stood to look at Perceval. “I think you should take your jacket off… I don’t want to get any powder on it, or anything, so…sorry about that.” He wondered if he’d decided that it really was necessary, or weather some part of him had just made it up as an excuse to see Perceval’s shoulders.
Perceval gave Donavan a look, trying to read him. What ulterior motive could Donavan have to have him take his jacket off? To humiliate him? Maybe. Searching Donavan's expression for a moment longer, he slowly began to acquiesce, sliding his jacket from his shoulders. After all, he didn't want his clothes to be soiled, either. He gave Donavan another look, warning him not to push it or to do anything that Perceval would have to make him regret.
Donavan swallowed hard, watching intently as Perceval removed his jacket, rather surprised Perceval had actually gone along with his request without so much as a word of complaint. Maybe…maybe he wasn’t such a tight ass after all? Donavan doubted it. He probably only did I because he cared about his clothes. Still, whatever the reason, Donavan was glad for the sight. Perceval had delicate shoulders; not very broad, but slender and attractive, just like the rest of Perceval’s body… Donavan momentarily thought back to that moment when Perceval had bent to retrieve the soap and he had to look away from his cousin abruptly for fear of his blush giving him away. “So,” he said hurriedly, “I’ll get started with the base coat!” His hands were shaking slightly; if he didn’t get himself together, his whole act would fall apart completely.
Perceval folded his jacket neatly and set it aside, then turned to see what Donavan was doing as he began looking through his makeup. The box was a little dusty, which worried Perceval a little along with making him sneeze. "Hey," he caught Donavan's attention, putting a hand on his shoulder and blinking a few times rapidly in succession because of the dust in the air. "What is all that, anyway?" He didn't want Donavan putting something on him that would make him break out or anything, after all.
Perceval’s touch sent a jolt through Donavan and he started quickly, spinning around. Percevla’s hand had been warm on his shoulder, and the touch, however delicate and insubstantial, made Donavan crave some sort of contact again. Turning back to Perceval, as he forced himself not to think about the part of his dream when they’d embraced, flesh to flesh. He hardly heard Perceval, however, because he was so distracted by his eyes. They were such a beautiful shade of green, and the way he bat his lashes accentuated their length and made him seem all the more feminine and delicate. Donavan swallowed and wiped his hands on his knickers, stupidly looking around to make sure that it really was him Perceval was looking so sweetly at. Indeed, he was the only other person in the room, and while he couldn’t imagine why Perceval would be batting his eyelashes at him, it made Donavan’s heart skip a beat excitedly. “W-what did you ask about?”
Perceval raised an eyebrow; Donavan was still acting slightly strangely, but he decided not to worry himself with it. Whatever it was, it must be something he didn't want to tell, and Perceval certainly didn't care enough to push him. "I asked what all that was. You're not putting anything unhealthy on my face, are you? Because if you ruin my skin, you're in a lot of trouble." His threat was in a very sweet tone of a voice, be he gave a sharp look, to let Donavan know that he was very serious. Perceval's looks meant everything to him, and if Donavan made it so he couldn't show his face in public, he would make him regret it.
Donavan laughed uneasily, forcing himself back under control. He was practicing his makeup technique while he recited plays to himself. He was not thinking about Perceval at all. “I won’t I swear!” He hoped he sounded normal, and felt that he had succeded. “This is really high quality stuff, and you’re just going to wash it off after I finish anyway, right?” He smirked, a rather devious idea popping into his mind. “Or do you wanna try on a costume, too? I even have something in green—to go with your eyes.” As soon as he’d said it, he wished he could’ve taken it back. Since when did cousins recommend dresses to match eye color? It was not a good sign—it could very well mark the end of his act all together. And, not to mention he had the mental image of Perceval in a dress again, and now it would drive him crazy unless his cousin agreed. Hopefully Perceval would just ignore the last part of his proposal, and take the idea of wearing a dress all in jest.
"If by costume, you mean 'dress,' then no way. Unlike you, Donavan, I don't like people mistaking me for a girl," he huffed. "But I don't mind the makeup, as long as it won't make me break out. Go ahead with it." Though he was still vaguely worried by the whole idea, he thought maybe it would make Donavan cheer up and stop acting so strange, because even though he didn't care, it was annoying to have Donavan so flustered and preoccupied.
Donavan made a mock pouting face as he finished the makeup preparation. “Why not? Because it happens so often even when you aren’t wearing a dress?” He laughed. That was the way they were suppose to act together. That was how cousins were supposed to be. “Okay, close your eyes for me. And it’s probably going to be cold.” Donavan instructed, applying the base white coat to Perceval’s cheeks gently. Donavan could feel Perceval’s breath on his hand as he worked, and it sent shivers down his spine. He was so close to the other, and yet he knew Perceval wanted nothing to do with him. He was only humoring him with the makeup, nothing more. Donavan sighed, finishing the white and moving on to the next layer of blush and eye makeup. At least if Perceval kept his eyes closed like he was supposed to, he wouldn’t be able to see the way Donavan looked at him almost hungrily and the way his mind strayed when he touched his supple skin.
Perceval waited patiently for the makeup to be applied, and was surprised at how gentle Donavan's hands were on his skin. He was expecting it to be uncomfortable, since his cousin was such a jerk, but, really, his hands were careful, and almost felt good on Perceval's face. He would never say that, though, and secretly hoped Donavan would mess up somehow, so that he could complain. It seemed weird for him to be liking Donavan touching him.
Donavan continued instructing Perceval with what to do while he worked, and as he drew to a close, Perceval was looking exceptionally beautiful. Donavan decided that it was possibly his best work ever, and he couldn’t wait to show Perceval and to hopefully receive a good response. Although, as excited as he was for Perceval to see how it came out, Donavan didn’t want to stop; he didn’t want to pull away from Perceval, and he didn’t want Perceval to open his eyes because he might be able to tell just how much Donavan wanted him.
“It’s done…” Donavan said slowly. He couldn’t keep Perceval sitting there forever, after all, and he’d run out of things to do with the makeup. He grabbed a mirror quickly and pressed it into Perceval’s hands, hoping his cousin would be distracted with his own reflection long enough for Donavan to get himself under control.
Perceval accepted the looking glass and let his eyes flutter open; they felt heavy now with makeup, but when he caught a glimpse of his reflection, he forgot all about it. He was really taken breathless by the job Donavan had done on him; though it was really too much for regular makeup as it was for the stage, it accentuated all of his features, and he really did look good. "Wow," was all he could manage to say for a moment, before he looked up at Donavan. "You're really quite talented at this, cousin." He looked into the mirror again. "Though it is a great deal uncomfortable... you really have done a good job." He couldn't find anything to nitpick, he was at a loss. It simply looked good.
Donavan summoned up a smirk and folded his arms triumphantly. “Yeah, well, your face is easy to make look good.” He said thoughtlessly, before realizing that he’d just paid his cousin a complement, which was most definitely unnatural and thoroughly out of character. “I mean—!” He corrected himself quickly, “it runs in the family, right, because everyone says I always look good on stage.” He smirked wider, faker, and added in a laugh. “And if you think the makeup is uncomfortable, it’s a good thing you’re not wearing the dress.” Donavan knew Perceval wasn’t man enough to wear a corset—those things hurt like hell—and it was particularly difficult to deliver lines in them.
Perceval raised an eyebrow at his cousin's strange behaviour, but chose once again to ignore it. "Don't talk about wearing dresses like it's a good thing," he shot back. "If you want to be a woman, that's your business, but don't project your desires on the rest of us." He looked at his reflection a moment longer, then rose. "I'm going to go wash this off. Is there anything special I need to do?" Even as he asked, though, he was striding towards his bathroom. Maybe if he gave him a moment, Donavan would get his act together and stop freaking out about whatever it was.
Donavan made a face again and put his arms on his hips, following his cousin out of his room. “Yeah, well at least I do something. You just sit around all day. I have a profession.” The fact that Perceval had used the word “desires” had rather shaken Donavan, and he felt his temper swell. There was no way Perceval could have possibly known, he tried to reason with himself, but now that he found himself so entirely infatuated with his cousin, he couldn’t really handle the insult or the insinuation at all. “And if you just wash it off, it’ll stain your sink.” He spat, still following just at Perceval’s heals.
"People of society don't need to do something," Perceval snubbed back. "I don't see why you work if you don't have to." He glanced down at his sink, then back at Donavan. "And how am I supposed to take it off, then?! Do you want to do it? I'm not leaving it on all day!" What was Donavan's problem?
“Society?” Donavan scoffed. “But that’s so boring.” Besides, Donavan thought to himself, it wasn’t as if Perceval could ever really be a member of high society—even their grandfather hadn’t been invited to the last royal ball, and at least his name, as a D’Aubigne, wasn’t sullied the way Perceval’s was. Donavan didn’t say it, though, because he knew how much it would devastate his cousin to hear it from him. “I don’t care what you do. It’s your face. Use a towel, or something, and get off most of it off first.” Donavan’s anger was almost enough to distract him from the fact that they were in Perceval’s bathroom, the place where only the night before Donavan had seen his cousin naked. And then again in his subsequent dream, and Donavan didn’t know if he could stand being in the room much longer without being overwhelmed by the associations and by desire.
Perceval did as instructed, wetting a towel before rubbing his face clean carefully. "Well, being a member of society is better than being a good-for-nothing actor," he shot back. "Only commoners act, because they don't have anything better to do." Looking in the bathroom mirror, he was glad to see his face was becoming visible beneath the layers of makeup again. Looking back to Donavan, he asked, "Does this look better?" After all, he was really only arguing for the sake of arguing, and wasn't generally or comparatively angry with Donavan.
It pissed Donavan off they way Perceval could switch so cleanly from one mood to the next, and his face was heating up rapidly, though whether it was from anger or lust he couldn’t tell. “And what do you have that’s so much better to do? Don’t you just sit around on your ass all day?” What really bothered Donavan about Perceval’s argument was the fact that he didn’t have a cent to his name. Out of the two of them, he was the one who actually needed to be working. “It’s still all over you.” Donavan said tightly, in regards to the ruined makeup.
"I do not," Perceval shot back, looking back in the mirror and wiping at his face again. "I do plenty of things. I read books. And collect china. And see that the house is looked after. And have parties. And other important things." He was really distracted, though, and wasn't paying any mind at all to the argument. Leaning forward and scrutinizing himself before straightening, he turned to Donavan, blinking quickly again to get the water from his eyelashes. "There. My face looks fine now, right?"
“I hate that, you know!” Donavan said loudly, taking two fast steps forward so that Perceval was pinned to the sink. “You aren’t paying any attention, are you?” Donavan was finding it even more difficult to pay attention now, too. He shouldn’t have gotten as close as he did, and he had no idea why he’d done it, but now Perceval was trapped, and he had no intention of letting him good—at least not until he’d made his point—whatever it actually was. “You don’t care about me at all. You just humor me to be polite. I hate that.”
Donavan was worried he was getting dangerously close to forgoing all sanity and simply taking Perceval right then and there. It would certainly solve all of his current problems; it would alleviate the steadily growing ach in his loins, it would shut his cousin up, and it would certainly help Perceval to loosen up about things. But, Donavan knew that if he gave in to his desires now, a whole wealth of new problems would be unleashed on him, and he wasn’t sure he was willing to deal with all of them and their implications. The question then really was: was Perceval worth it? Was tearing his clothes off of him, kissing him breathless, and then fucking him into the floor worth all the problems of explanation and everything else he would have to face?
Donavan shifted his weight slightly, and the slightest bit of friction as he pressed closer to his cousin brought the answer to his question: a resounding “hell yes.” He smirked deviously and placed an arm on either side of Perceval, further fencing him in and preventing him from moving away as he leaned forward to press a desperate, bruising kiss to Perceval’s lips.
Perceval was about to respond that of course he did care about Donavan, and no, he certainly wasn't just humouring him because, really, it was true, when one got down to it, even if Perceval didn't like to admit it to himself, but he was torn completely from his thoughts by Donavan's lips against his own. His eyes shot open; what on earth did Donavan think he was doing?! Whatever Donavan thought he was doing, all Perceval could understand was that he was kissing him, hard, on the lips. Perceval was too startled, too confused to be scandalized, and he was about to break away to ask Donavan what in heaven's name he thought he was doing and to shove him away when all of a sudden, Donavan's tongue was in his mouth and, all of a sudden, he lost his will. It just felt too good.
But it shouldn't feel good, it should be disgusting, Perceval told himself. This was Donavan, for heaven's sake, his cousin, his irritating, jerk of a cousin Donavan! His lips shouldn't taste so good, his body shouldn't feel so good, and yet it did, it did, and Perceval simply couldn't find it in himself to end the kiss. He felt himself relax slightly under Donavan, and, before he knew what he was doing, he was kissing back to the best of his ability, and he couldn't make himself stop. It just felt so good.
Donavan broke the kiss with a smirk, far too amused by his cousin’s eagerness to continue. Besides, there were other things they had to get to, and Donavan was rather in a hurry; his dick ached painfully now, and memories of his dream were beginning to flood back into his mind. He shifted positions slightly, transferring his attentions to Perceval’s ear and biting it sharply to distract the other as he moved his hand to press Perceval through his knickers. “Do you like it?” He asked huskily, moving his mouth lower to his cousin’s neck. “Sorry if I surprised you…” he murmured against the spot on Perceval’s neck that was already beginning to redden. “But I need a favor…” He moved his hand, instead pressing up against Perceval with his full weight and grinding their hips together with a gasp of relief.
Before he could get out any coherent words, Perceval inhaled sharply, tilting his head to allow Donavan better access to his neck without even thinking about it. He knew he shouldn't be enjoying this, he knew it, but already, he was beyond caring; he just wanted Donavan to keep touching him this way. "Y-yes," he managed to gasp out at Donavan's question, his hands moving to clutch the bottom edge of the sink. "I- I like--" before he could finish, however, Donavan pressed him back harder and ground their hips together, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through Perceval's body and causing him to cry out, his voice almost whining. "Donavan," he pleaded without intending to; Perceval had never intended to plead with Donavan, but then again, he had never imagined a situation like this, where his face was flushed and his knickers were growing far too tight, and he needed Donavan now, needed him badly.
Donavan was growing increasingly hot and he shrugged out of his coat, pushing up against Perceval harder, desperately, as he recaptured his lips in another kiss. Donavan slid his hands up Perceval’s sides, tore off his cravat, and deftly began undoing the buttons of his vest as he continued to grind their hips together. Perceval had reacted better than Donavan could have possibly imagined, and though his dream and the images of Perceval bathing continued to play over in his mind, Donavan’s thoughts were beginning to become hazy with lust. Donavan was getting so worked up, he could barely contain himself, and he bit Perceval’s lip, hard, unintentionally, as he pressed his tongue deep inside of his cousin’s mouth, tasting him and his blood elatedly.
Perceval squeaked when Donavan bit his lip, at first out of surprise. He was expecting discomfort, however, it seemed that the pain and the taste of his own blood mingled in the passionate kiss only heightened his sense of pleasure, and he moaned softly into the kiss, already desperate for more. He was far beyond any worry now; his only thoughts concerning Donavan were concerning his tongue in his mouth or his hands, now hurriedly unbuttoning his blouse or his hips, pressed hard against his own. It struck him that he might want to unbutton Donavan's clothing, too, but when he moved his hands to Donavan's chest, his fingers were suddenly to shaky to do the job, and so he simply grasped at Donavan's vest, as if he were holding on for dear life, whimpering his impatience once again.
Donavan felt Perceval’s hands at his chest and smirked again, breaking the kiss just as he finished the last button of Perceval’s blouse. He knew he was tantalizingly close to having Perceval’s pale chest all to his own, but he longed to feel Percval’s skin against his own, and his own blouse and tight vest felt far too hot and restrictive to be tolerated much longer. Besides, he owed it to Perceval to help his cousin’s shaking hands with the buttons. Donavan placed an apologetic kiss on his cousin’s collarbone then moved his hands to Perceval’s and held them briefly, before starting on his own vest and blouse hastily.
Once he’d gotten the buttons undone, he cast the garments to the floor and returned eagerly to Perceval, pushing his blouse off of his shoulders and pressing their bodies together again feverishly to make up for the brief time they’d spent apart. He ran his hands down Perceval’s back lightly, admiring the softness of his skin, then lowered his mouth to the other’s neck, eager to mark the pale flesh as his own.
Perceval gasped and mewled and squirmed lightly against the sink, which, he was sure, was leaving bruises in his back. He was embarrassed for a millisecond, when Donavan removed his clothing altogether, that his modesty was entirely lost to him now, but a moment later, he didn't care, he only wanted to feel Donavan's mouth against his chest, Donavan's hands against his skin, and he whimpered his desire as all ability to form coherent thoughts and all restraint fled him.
Donavan lifted his head slowly and looked into Perceval’s eyes. “If we’re going to move,” he grunted, “we should do it now.” Donavan didn’t want to stop, but he knew it was now or never. While he didn’t particularly mind their current location, he was certain the cold hard marble would be very uncomfortable for Perceval, and as it was his cousin’s first time, Donavan felt a peculiar duty to make it nice for him. Donavan himself had never been with another boy before, but he knew enough to realize they would need some previsions before they left the bathroom. He pecked Perceval on the lips and smirked again before leaning over his shoulder and looking at the contents of the sink counter. Spying a small bottle of lotion, Donavan grabbed it quickly and returned his gaze to Perceval, pocketing the lotion. Swiftly, Donavan knelt and grabbed Perceval just under the knees, sweeping him off of his feet and into his arms.
Donavan staggered under Perceval’s minute weight, already finding it difficult to walk in his current state of need, and managed to make it to Perceval’s bed. He dropped his cousin unceremoniously onto the bed and stepped out of his shoes, removing Perceval’s as well. Donavan tossed the bottle of lotion on to the bed as well, and knelt, hovering over Perceval momentarily to admire his flushed face and the way he writhed with need. He then hungrily dragged his hands down Perceval’s chest, stopping just at the waistband of his knickers and working it carefully down to his hips, before bending to place a kiss on his navel.
Perceval's knickers were uncomfortably tight, and when Donavan didn't remove them, he whined loudly, peering up through his lashes at Donavan. He was certain Donavan was teasing him now, getting him all worked up just to drag it on and watch him squirm. It was so like Donavan. Still, there was nothing he could do now besides wait and hope Donavan would take pity on his soon. He felt he should hate the idea, but somehow, he didn't mind it, didn't completely mind the idea of being piteous and pleading as his current position called for.
Donavan kissed Perceval’s tight stomach once again and smirked up at him, pressing Perceval softly through his knickers without breaking eye contact. He liked the way Perceval whined, and he wasn’t about to give in so soon. He inched the knickers down a little lower, unbuttoning the first button only so he could get them lower; as tight as Donavan’s own knickers felt, somehow he still had it in him to tease. Donavan knew he couldn’t last much longer, but he was enjoying every moment he had Perceval entirely under his control, and he wanted to hear him beg. “Are you sure you’re ready, cousin?” His voice was low and throaty, but Donavan didn’t care and persisted, pressing Perceval a little harder. “Is this what you want?”
"Yes," Perceval managed tightly, writhing under Donavan's touch and squeezing his eyes shut before forcing them open again to meet Donavan's eyes pleadingly. "Please," he heard himself whimpering piteously, not meaning to but not regretting it, "Please, I need it..." He felt as if he simply couldn't take any more, he needed Donavan to touch him more than he had ever felt he needed anything before.
Satisfied, and quite unable to hold back much longer, Donavan finished unbuttoning Perceval’s knickers a little faster than he’d intended, and cast them aside before backing off of Perceval and stepping out of his own, relieved to be rid of the restrictive garment at last. He knelt over his cousin once more, this time bending to take Perceval’s length into his mouth, teasing teasingly flicking his tongue along the underside of his shaft, testing for a reaction.
Perceval cried out loudly, rocking his hips up and clutching at the sheets beneath him. He couldn't think, he couldn't comprehend anything, the pleasure that his cousin was giving him was overwhelming and it was all he could feel, all he could understand. "Donavan," he gasped, clutching at his cousin's hair, eyes squeezed shut, small noises of pleasure continuing to emerge from his lips.
Donavan moaned softly in response, taking more of Perceval into his mouth and continuing to move his tongue over and around Perceval’s erection for a minute longer. He then slowly slid Perceval out of his mouth, allowing his teeth to graze him lightly as he pulled back, licking his lips and moving on top of the other. Donavan pressed down against Perceval, grinding their hips together feverishly and kissing Perceval hard on the lips, at last getting the friction and contact he’d been longing for.
Even after all of his teasing, Donavan had grown impatient. While he refused to vocalize his want, he needed Perceval just as badly as his cousin had already said of him. Donavan had only the vaguest understanding of how to go about the whole thing, but he was confident in his ability to improvise, and knew enough that the lotion should come next. Breaking the kiss abruptly, Donavan sat, startling Perceval to admire the flushed and restless state he’d worked his cousin into, before fumbling for the bottle of lotion. The cap undone, Donavan spread it carefully over his fingers and pressed them experimentally against Perceval’s opening. He placed a tender kiss to his cousin’s lips, and without warning, inserted the first finger.
Perceval squirmed in sudden discomfort as he felt Donavan's finger, cold and slick with the lotion, slide inside of him. He really had no idea what was going on; he wasn't quite clear on the mechanics of sex in general, but he definitely wasn't sure why Donavan's finger was inside of him, and he made a dissatisfied noise as Donavan put another finger inside of him.
Donavan made a clicking noise with his tongue to scold Perceval for his impatience; as uncomfortable as it was now, he was certain his cousin would be enjoying it shortly. Donavan spread his fingers, carefully stretching Perceval in preparation for what was to come, applying a third. Then, as a reward, Donavan curled his figures, searching for the spot that would serve for Perceval as preview for the pleasure that was to come.
Perceval made another noise of discomfort as he felt Donavan stretching him out, but it quickly melted into a cry of pleasure as, all of a sudden, an amazing feeling pulsed through his entire body. He bucked his hips up against Donavan's hand, trying to feel his fingers deeper inside of him, anything to get that extremely pleasurable feeling again.
Donavan smirked at Perceval’s zealousness and withdrew his fingers, once again drawing back rather reluctantly and reaching for the lotion. He applied it liberally to his length, shivering at the sensation and in almost euphoric anticipation of what was to come. Though everything had played out quite a bit differently than it had in his dream, Donavan’s fantasy would soon be realized, and he could barely contain his fervor. Satisfied with his own preparation, Donavan ran a hand down Perceval’s thigh, spreading his legs gently and situating himself between them. Carefully grasping Perceval’s hips, he eased his way inside, moaning at the immensely pleasurable sensation unreservedly. With a gasp, Donavan pulled out slowly and found Perceval’s lips, kissing him desperately as he slammed into Perceval once more, already losing himself in the pleasure and forgetting his restraint.
Perceval inhaled sharply as he felt Donavan press inside of him, but, a moment later, was crying out again as Donavan once more hit that spot that just made everything feel so good. He arched up against him, kissing back for a moment before breaking away with a throaty moan. Gasping with the feeling and clutching at the sheets beneath him, Perceval could hear himself saying his cousin's name in a way some part of him knew he really shouldn't, but he couldn't care less right now, right now when the only thing that mattered was Donavan deep inside of him and on top of him and all over him, making everything feel amazing.
Donavan struggled to regain control of himself, and somehow managed to remember cousin’s needs as well. He encircled Perceval’s erection with his hand and pumped it as he withdrew slightly and pushed back in deeper, this time managing to keep himself steady and keeping pace with his hand. By speeding up slightly, Donavan was able to establish an even rhythm and adjust the angle of his strokes, aiming to please Perceval, who, Donavan noted, was shaping up to be possibly the best fuck he’d ever had. He was hot, tight, and receptive, and Perceval was decidedly more attractive than any woman Donavan had ever been with. Donavan expressed his pleasure with another throaty moan and pushed into Perceval once more, penetrating deeper with each successive thrust.
Perceval arched up against Donavan with a loud cry as he felt Donavan's hand on him, once more overwhelmed by the wave of pleasure it sent through him. Still, he moaned again as he felt Donavan speed up, and rocked his hips to meet each thrust, allowing him to penetrate deeper still. He couldn't control himself, he was making noises he knew would normally entirely embarrass him, but he couldn't help crying out every time Donavan pushed inside of him, and every time the feeling became more and more intolerably pleasurable until Perceval couldn't take it anymore, and he came, crying Donavan's name and clutching at his shoulder as every muscle in his body clenched and his vision went white with ecstasy.
With Perceval’s muscles spasming around him, Donavan thrust forward a final time, achieving his own climax and moaning incoherently, intoxicated by the incredible pleasure and over come with rapture. After a moment, Donavan pulled out slowly and untangled their bodies, collapsing next to his cousin with a smirk of smug satisfaction. Perceval was his—after lusting after him and dreaming of him, Donavan had made him his own. He opened his eyes slowly as his vision returned, and pulled Perceval into his arms to peck him on the lips. “Thank you, Perceval.” He sighed blissfully, the smirk still in place.
As he caught his breath, Perceval's mind began to function again, and, comfortable in Donavan's arms, he slowly began to think over what he had just done. He had just had sex. For the first time. With his irritating, annoying cousin. And he had liked it. More than liked it, really... it had been amazing. And, Perceval was somewhat disturbed to realize, he wanted to do it again. Soon. That could only mean one thing: Donavan wasn't really as bad as Perceval always thought he was. Because this sex, this experience that Donavan had given him was certainly one of the most amazing things Perceval had ever engaged in. He hated to admit it, but yet at the same time, he was almost too ready to admit it: he might not mind Donavan so much after all, and he certainly wouldn't mind doing this again, frequently.
"You're very welcome," he finally managed politely, his own eyes remaining softly shut. "Please, feel free to request a favour anytime. I'd hate to be a poor host." Then, he realized Donavan might take advantage of him, so he quickly added, "But don't expect anything too often!" He opened his eyes to let Donavan know he meant business, and that was when he realized exactly how naked he was. Flushing a deep red, he squirmed out of Donavan's arms and tried to bury himself beneath the covers, anything to preserve his modesty.
Donavan’s smirk widened as he watched his cousin squirm away in embarrassment, admiring his body unreservedly just to make him feel even shyer. Once Perceval had successfully hidden himself under the covers, however, Donavan folded his arms back behind his head and stretched out with another contented sigh. “It only gets better, you know.” He said lazily, looking up at the ceiling only to glance back at Perceval again out of the corner of his eye. “But I’ll be careful not to expect too much from you, since I know you’re still a novice, and all.” Donavan could hardly believe his luck; not only had Perceval enjoyed it, but he’d actually said up front that he’d be willing to do it again! Donavan had been right—all that his cousin had really needed was a good fuck to loosen him up. This summer, Donavan decided, was going to be an excellent one.