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“Lucas please..” Was there supposed to be so much blood? He was at a loss, the secrets of Lucas’s biology was among the many he hoarded but even in the panic Thomas couldn’t resent him for it. Some things he just couldn’t know, wasn’t ready to know. Wasn’t he proving it now with his worry? This was probably a normal occurrence, the spilling of blood to be expected after such labouring. Even so he needed, no craved that reassurance and he shook Lucas’s shoulder again. 

But to be rejected so callously! He couldn’t remember a time when it had been so, he was too used to soft words, a life time of shielding and careful manipulation making him hungry for the little normalcy they knew. To be guided blindly while Lucas cleaned up the messes and made himself accountable, should worst come to worst..Well they would both be accountable now. Their secret sin could not remain secret forever should they be convicted, a clever jury sniffing out the source of their horror filled him with a terror he could scarcely contain and he ignored Lucas’s plead for solitude, deaf now to the child’s cries as he nuzzled at Lucas’s neck and whined, slipping to press against him and smoothing his hands over his depleted belly as if it would soothe the pain. “Shh, tell me what you need.”

It was the voice of the seducer, the alpha. A low purr rumbling deep in his chest as he brushed kisses over his face, tangling their fingers together. “Let me take care of you.”

Do? What could there be left to do after all he had already done? Just the thought of having any additional work left pulled a weak groan from the exhausted elder. “No more…” He croaked, the burning between his legs making him roll on to his side in a quest for comfort. Lucas could contribute little else– was it not enough that he’d given blood, sweat, tears, and ultimately a child? This was one of the rare times it was Thomas’s turn to do the doing.

He could start with quieting that awful wailing! They had already to live amongst shrieking specters and howling winds, their very house breathing and groaning and adding to the chorus, must there be one more cacophonous voice? The child’s cries roused no mothering instincts in the bitter omega– at least not yet. Birthing it had hurt worse than any pain he’d ever known– and he had known pain a plenty in the sanitarium. It made him hate the little thing for daring to add difficulty to his already strenuous life. Worse, it would take Thomas from him now with it’s need of warmth, feeding and general attention– just when Lucas needed his brother the most. Let it have him then, so long as they would both be silent and leave him to his miserable recovery.

“Leave me.”

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@mcnstrouslcve wanted babbus.

“..He’s perfect.”

In his haste to shelter the babe Lucas was left forgotten and bleeding in a tangle of sheets, Thomas’s first instinct to shield the pup from the chill in the air. How cold he must feel, and yet he was strong enough to screw up his face and wail. Tiny fists waving as Thomas cooed and rocked him, pressing him tight to his chest, soothing him with a low hum. A child, his child! Surely the months of suffering had been worth it, the pains, the starvation. All for the pup he nuzzled tirelessly, breathing in the sweetness of his scent, a dizzying mix of Lucas’s and his own. That would have to be scrubbed off him later but for the moment? Thomas couldn’t bear to let him go. How could what they did be wrong when it had created something so perfect?

“Lucas?” The lack of response finally registered and Thomas froze, hardly daring to look, but he had to. “Lucas?!” No no no no, no child was worth him dying. Not now and not ever. Their pup was almost carelessly abandoned in the crib as Thomas rushed to his brother’s side, soft hands shaking his shoulders none too gently. “Tell me what to do!”

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“Not at all.” Realistically he could rake Dorian over the coals for his lack of courtesy, arriving so suddenly without even sending a note? It showed a lack of respect at the very least, making his hosts scramble to prepare a suitable tour for him, pleasantries included afterwards as was expected. For the briefest moment Thomas considered the possibility of poisoning the tea for throwing him into this mess. No...That would be..It wouldn’t be right, but the thought made his heart pound with savage pleasure. 

“You’ll have to excuse the state of the house.” He continues, leading the unexpected (unwanted) guest inside and towards the elevator, his gaze flicking constantly in search of Lucas. “It sinks deeper into the clay pits each year.” 

He feels blessed to have seen that look, the fall of his mask, the truth of Thomas revealed for those short moments. He had watched him, to know the man he would be getting into business with, thus he knew it was rare to see beyond what the rest of the world. He was one way when he knew onlookers were watching and another when he and his beloved brother were together. Still even at Lucas’s side, when prying eyes watched, he was a mask wearing a mask. Dorian hadn’t yet been able to catch slight of man stripped of all his tedious layers.

“No, I doubt you were, I told your lovely brother I’d be along later in the week and then decided I just couldn’t wait.” His words are accompanied with a sheepish smile, as if he had done something very naughty. “Hopefully.. My rush isn’t going to inconvenience you too greatly, Lord Sharpe.” 

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@crackedportrait

“Ah...Mr. Gray.”

He’d been caught off guard to say the least, having not expected the lord’s visit until Tuesday, Lucas had made a point of mentioning it, so either his brother had lied or Dorian had come two days early. Under the circumstance he wasn’t quite sure what to believe, he’d spent a considerable amount soothing Lucas in his own ways, resting his head in his lap while those calloused hands shook as they ran through his hair. 

Did that mean the aristocrat was one to be feared? Thomas hadn’t felt uneasy in his presence during their conversation, on the contrary he’d found Dorian charming, something beautiful to be admired though perhaps that was the point. He must be dangerous if he managed to upset his brother so. 

Let it never be said that he could be unsettled so easily and it only took a moment to rearrange his features from shock to a welcoming smile. “We weren’t expecting you so soon.”

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Do you think about that babe when you sin again? Do you consider that there might be another?

“There...There is always a possibility.” He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t thought about it, the slickening of his brother’s thighs offering another opportunity, a chance to try again. Maybe see a child through the first year, if it was born right this time. “We take precautions now..”

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Shouldn't you have gotten rid of the little beast long before it drew breath? There are medical potions for that, you know. Or, nice long staircases.

“Don’t say that!” The forgotten knife was snatched from the table, the baronet brandishing it towards the shadows before he realised what he was doing and lowered his hand, dropping his gaze to the floor. “I couldn’t...It...The baby was mine. He was mine too.”

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You know there was nothing wrong with him, don't you? Your son, born of as sick of a love as he was, was utterly pink and healthy. His cries proved it. Such strong lungs. Can you hear them still? Echoing about the house? You know. Surely you must know. There was nothing wrong with him. Only with you. Your cowardice was the cause of his death. How could you let him be silenced like that?

There’s no helping the way he freezes, his grip on the knife slackening until he’s forced to set it aside for fear of cutting himself. So long ago and yet the hurt was still as raw as the day he’d found Lucas with his hand over the babe’s mouth, strong fingers pinching his little nose shut. “He...” He swallows hard, fighting the tears lest his groans summon his sibling, he couldn't...He wasn't sure what he would do if confronted with him when he was in this state, vulnerable and aching.

“..I didn’t get there in time.” What had he been doing? The morning seemed a blur up to that moment and even when faced with the horror he couldn’t react, couldn’t do anything more than stand and trembling as his baby struggled weakly in Lucas’ grip. Would it have hurt more if he’d borne the child himself? Perhaps not, but something broke deep in his chest, a little more of his hope drifting away. “He was born wrong.”

If he has to lie to himself to keep his sanity...Well one of them had to be functional, even if it was only to a point. “Poor thing...He doesn’t cry when he comes to me...He’s happy.” It’s the one of the few joys he has left. 

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Thomas Sharpe Crimson Peak

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Will somebody please torture my muse with random uncomfortable questions for my own entertainment? Thanks.

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How not to fall when he looks at you and tells you words like that?

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In spite of their secret sin they hadn't bonded as their biologies dictated, necessity had kept him from sinking his teeth into Lucas’ neck. It would have ruined them, making them possessive than they already were, making the repeated deceptions next to impossible. If Thomas was honest with himself, and he rarely was, those deeper musings left for dark nights when even his gentle soul found the capacity for resentment. He hated it, hated having Lucas in those hazy moments when there was only the rutt, his brother sweet and pliant and unmistakeably his. Where he found the strength to resist simply taking what he was owed was anyone’s guess. 

There was no connection, no brush of Lucas’ thoughts against his own, but he suddenly knew and the shock made him fumble him with the tea pot, spilling most of the liquid onto the carpet. Now of all times? They hadn’t planned or even considered the possibility of a heat, too distracted with the wooing of his recent conquest. He mumbled apologies as his mind raced, subtly scenting the air to make sure the smell hadn’t spread. There were precautions they should have taken, all forgotten in the race to fill their bellies and build his machine, if he didn’t leave Lucas unsatisfied...There could be another mouth to feed. God the possibility was slim but he still had to lock his jaw to stop a pleased growl. No no, focus.

The longer he left his brother alone, the harder it would be to concentrate. 

He hated using his status as a weapon, he’d never been much of an alpha, or at least much of what was expected from him. Dominance over others, power, a strong sense of self, aggression. He couldn’t muster the means for it at the best of times but he tries, practically purring for his disgruntled bride, suggesting she take a visit to town and hadn’t she seen the loveliest hat there last week? Couldn’t he come as well? Unfortunately not, he had to make sure that the latest shipments of his machine parts arrived and she did understand the importance of that didn’t she?

Yes, reluctantly. He saw her safely to the carriage, bitterly pleased to see the gathering clouds on the horizon, snow. Hopefully enough to keep her away for the night. 

Alone at last.

He practically bounded upstairs, ever eager to soothe and when he came to a halt in the doorway of the nursery there was no containing a growl this time. Lucas smelt...God there were no words for how he smelt. 

“It’s alright...I’m here.”

Lucas’s erratic biology couldn’t have been more inconvenient, but there it was; slicking his thighs with need, staining the air with his pheromones. As if there were time to indulge the gnawing craving within, that empty space clenching with want of filling. Why now? With every year that passed he was that much closer to being too old for any of it– the heats and the lacking child they were meant to produce. There’d only ever be one child for him. Thomas. His eternal charge, child brother and lover all at once, the only being in the world that mattered to him and whom he’d care for until the end.

Thomas, who was tasked with entertaining his latest bride without actually breaking his more sacred vows. He’d be somewhere downstairs now, likely setting up excuses for the time she’d have to spend alone while he worked… promising Lucas for company, as was usual. Only now he couldn’t answer. He wouldn’t. There’d be no hiding his state from the Italian woman and that was attention he couldn’t afford let alone desired. She’d never understand, or approve of, Thomas tending to him– even if they pretended he wasn’t truly fulfilling his need, only nursing him as if sick. Families weren’t supposed to be so improperly close at such times, animalistic tendencies near impossible to predict and so likely to end in taboo conclusions.

How would they manage this? Through the haze of his fevered state he couldn’t think, couldn’t puzzle out a solution, though that was his duty as the elder. Rutting in heat was no five minute romp. The knotting, just thinking of it made Lucas groan, it would keep them tied for near an hour each time… Their sins at night were one thing, easily kept secret in the attic while the brides slept and dreamed, but these biological spells of sheer need would not keep to such a schedule– how then? What excuses could they make that would keep Enola from sniffing them out? What could be conjured that would keep her occupied and unaware when they had not yet done enough to make her funds their own?

How would they survive this most recent battering of cursed luck and terrible fate if it ruined their latest scheme? Lucas retreated to the nursery for sanctuary and there crumpled under the weight of trying to decipher it all.

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The things we do for a love like this are ugly, mad, full of sweat and regret. This love burns you and maims you and twists you inside out. It is a monstrous love and it makes monsters of us all.

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“Yes..Downstairs.”

Usually when the situation called for him to distract Lucas from his anger, to steer him clear from dealing hurts where none were necessary, he felt a tinge of guilt, a sense of wrongness he couldn’t shake even if the feeling of injustice was more. Lucas knew what was best after all..But when he moved to strike Finlay for nothing more than forgetting to bring the coal when asked...He was obligated to stop him however he could. This was one of those times, but where was the guilt? Why had it deserted him now when he needed it most? The reassurance from himself that all they did was worth the murder, the lies, the broken hearts...

There was nothing but conviction, when he opened his arms to his brother it felt just, it would buy them more time...

To do what? Escape? Without Laura there was no fortune to take, no restoration, everything they had worked for would be ruins. He bit his lip as he pulled Lucas gently downstairs by the hand, grateful that his face was turned away so he couldn’t read the thoughts in his eyes. They would be ruined yes, but Laura would be free and the guilt would leave him, they could go back to stalking widows, spinsters. He couldn’t do this to such a young girl, he couldn’t. 

Forget that now. 

Good advise, he listened to it as he guided Lucas to his room and shut the door behind them. He was trembling but his expression was calm, serene almost as he loosened his tie, letting it slip to reveal the pale arch of his throat. Use me...He had never actively tried to seduce his brother but he attempted it now, stepping close and nuzzling his neck, heated breath ghosting across his flesh. Thomas offered his own without a struggle, he wanted, no needed to be the one taken, to see his brother pour that madness and nervous energy into something good, something that would give him pleasure for once. He’d had precious little of it. 

“Lucas...Lucas please.” He pressed closer, his knee accidentally slipping between Lucas’ thighs and brushing against his cock. “Lay with me” 

As Thomas jumped tracks from one self to the other, so too was Lucas pulled to follow. When The Lover appeared he was to the elder the picture of The Beloved in Need. From within the maelstrom of his dark and hurting emotions emerged The Nurturer. After all, when had Thomas ever had want of anything that Lucas did not immediately provide? Oh, how skillfully he was played with the very strings of manipulation that he himself had weaved. He did not suspect, even as he yielded, that Thomas knew just how to pitch his needs against his elder brother so that all else would be forgotten.

So Thomas was the sacrificial lamb this once? How well he’d learned from the original!

“Downstairs.” It was dumbstruck agreement from the elder brother, a shaky nod the compliment to his answer– perfectly married with shaky steps forward, into Thomas. Yes. It made sense that Thomas should need this of him now. It was a cry for balance, for a return to the familiar. What would that woman know of how Thomas liked– no, needed, to be touched? She wouldn’t have settled him down with their lullaby, or known the importance of pulling his cheek to her shoulder so that he could hide that great yawning hunger that sometimes filled him up.

Later. He’d take care of her later. Thomas was first.

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In the evening, on the couch in front of the fireplace, with a good fingering….

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- Do we have to do this ? Must we ?

- Yes. You have no idea what they’d do. I would be taken from here. Locked away. You would be hanged. We stay together. Never apart. You couldn’t leave me. You wouldn’t. I know.

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For one night, let’s promise to get away from the emptiness.”

classiccupofchai  (via wnq-writers)