Disclaimer: This fic does not only contain homosexual sex, but homosexual INCEST! I know it's twisted, but hey, it's not hurting anybody, right? ^_^* I wrote this on August 16 in honor of Edgar and Sabin's birthday. As for their ages - the character profile in the strategy book I have says they're 27, so this is set a couple of years after the end of the game. Also, it goes in the same universe as "Thieves", a Locke/Edgar story I wrote awhile ago, but they're both pretty stand-alone.

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I should be used to it by now, used to the fawning and fake smiles and toasts to my health, used to the crowds of people and too much food and drink.  For a little over a year, when the world had fallen into darkness, I had actually despaired at the loss of this garish brightness, but now it's become too much. Even the ladies with their low-cut gowns and hair piled delicately atop their heads don't interest me.

Lord knows I've seen enough of them in the past few years, now that I'm not only a beloved king but a hero as well. It seems they're almost constantly throwing themselves at me, and while I can't deny occasionally taking a taste of what is offered, I've never actually slept with any of them. I tell myself it's because of my duty as King, that I must be careful because I can't afford to let any bastard princes pop up trying to lay claim to the throne.

In truth, I never really wanted any of them, anyway.

I somehow slip out of the too-hot banquet hall and into the passage beyond unnoticed, taking the few steps around the corner briskly. I just need to be alone, and I give one furtive glance around me before pulling one of the wall sconces to reveal a passage only slightly wider than I am. I slip in, shutting it behind me, moving steadily through the blackness, one hand tracing the wall lightly until I come to the heavy tapestry at the other end.

Pushing it aside, I'm standing in my own bedroom, which is dark and empty. Taking a deep breath of cool fresh air, I step onto the balcony and lean against the railing, staring vacantly out at a starlit sky and  the silver-tinted desert below. The lines of the dunes blur together, and I realize that perhaps I've had a bit much to drink - there's a half-full glass of champagne still in my hand, and I blink at it, uncomprehending. There's so much for me to think about that my brain settles down into a meaningless comforting buzz.

"Thought I'd find you here," a voice murmurs behind me. I jump slightly, the champagne sloshing over the side of the glass and onto my gloved hand. Only three people know about the passage: myself, my former lover, and-

"Sabin," I sigh, turning. "What are you doing here?"

He's half hidden in the shadows of my room, but I can see that he has his jacket off, shirt unbuttoned. He seems uncomfortable in such fancy clothing, and I recall that it had looked vaguely awkward on his muscular body when I had seen him earlier at the party. He always seemed more at home in the loose baggy pants he used for training, and for a moment I feel a rush of envy.

"Looking out for my drunk and depressed brother. Is that a crime?" That familiar lopsided smile is on his face, and I know he's teasing, but I'm annoyed all the same.

"I'm not drunk. I can hold my alcohol better than that."

"Maybe," he shrugs, stepping up to the railing and mimicking my former stargazing posture. "But you seemed awfully sad, and I don't know why. I mean, it's your birthday, you should be happy."

"Maybe it's because it's my birthday that I'm not," I sigh, swishing the champagne in the glass before spontaneously dumping it over the edge of the railing in a shower of silver droplets. The buzzing in my head has returned, louder and less pleasant than before. "Twenty-nine seems so old. Next year comes thirty." A sudden anger is building behind the hum, and I feel my voice growing louder. "And my advisors are all murmuring that I need to find a wife and produce an heir, but the only person I ever could have been happy with is getting married next month!" I snap my hand back and fling the empty glass over the edge, watching it careen out of sight into the darkness, my breath coming heavily.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down!" His hand is on my shoulder, warm and heavy. "Edgar... I had no idea you felt that way about Celes. I mean, you flirted and all, but that's how you always act-"

"Not Celes." My voice is quiet now, the buzzing silenced, the August air still and thick. "Which means it could never have worked anyway. Two men can't make an heir." The words sound far away, as if someone else is speaking; my brain itself seems sluggish. I must have had more to drink than I'd thought. "Maybe if I weren't King it could have been different, but I'm stuck in this fucking castle whether I like it or not."

Sabin's arms come around me and I suddenly find myself pressed against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He's only maybe two inches taller than me, but I feel very, very small. "I'm sorry," he's whispering into my ear. "I'm so, so sorry I left without you. The coin was heads, Edgar... that meant we were supposed to do whatever we wanted. So I went off to Mt. Koltz, and- and you shouldn't have stayed!"

"I had to." My throat is raw, emotions I've buried for years suddenly rising to choke me. "I couldn't just abandon the kingdom, but I- I wanted you to be free, Sabin. I wanted you to live for both of us."

"Edgar." His embrace becomes less crushing, but he doesn't move his arms from around my shoulders. "Ummm... A little while ago... did you just say you were in love with Locke?"

"It took you that long to catch on?" I chuckle mirthlessly, leaning my forehead against his collarbone. "I never really talked to him about it. I don't really know how he feels. We used to sleep together all the time, though." I can't help but smile at the memory as my brother gasps in surprise. "He used to sneak in through that very same passage, and sneak out again just before dawn. I was so lonely then, without you. Locke was my only friend. He wasn't afraid of doing it rough, either. God, it felt good." My eyes slide closed, and all I can hear is Sabin's heart beating quickly, his breath coming in little gasps I can feel on the top of my head. If I tilt just slightly I can touch my lips to his neck, so I do, feeling a slight tang of sweat beneath them. My hands tangle in his open shirt front. "I cared about him so much. The only person I ever cared for more... was you."

"Edgar..." His voice is breathless, his hands sliding down to my waist in an unmistakable carress. "Edgar... stop it." Despite his words, he makes no move to back away, and lift my head to stare challengingly into his eyes, so like my own.

That moment seems to go on forever. I find myself on the brink of something I have longed for and feared since I was a teenager, and it's startling to realize that he must have felt the same way all along. Our heads tilt, so slowly - we move toward each other, the space between us closing centimeter by centimeter, in slow motion -

Our mouths meet.

His tongue pushes past my lips as my own rushes to welcome it, and I wrap my arms around his waist, cleaving myself to him, tears coming to my eyes because I can't believe something this wonderful can actually be happening. After a few frantic moments our mouths part wetly and we stand there holding each other, breathless, overcome with emotion. When I look up at him again I can see, even in the pale light, that he's blushing.

"Edgar..." He hesitates. "Do you want to, um..."

"The door's locked," I reply.

"Ah." He licks his lips nervously. "But really, we probably shouldn't. I mean..."

"Do you want to?"

"I've wanted to for years," he confesses.

"Me too. There's nothing stopping us now."

Sabin's smile relaxes, then turns mischievous. Suddenly I find myself hefted into his arms easily, squawking indignantly. He carries me over to the bed, depositing me with great ceremony, silencing my protests with gentle kisses. I push the shirt off his shoulders, moving my lips from his mouth to his chest. It must have taken him years of careful training to build his muscles up so perfectly, and I trace my tongue across firm pectorals, brushing one nipple, tickling down the center of his six-pack. I want to taste every inch, and he lets me undress him, kissing every bit of skin that comes into view. Soon he's topless and gasping against the mattress, breath hitching as I reach down to open his pants, touching his straining erection with my fingertips.

"Edgar..." he sighs in protest. "I want to look at you, too."

I smile in understanding, straddling his legs, and pull off my gloves - one finger at a time - then my layers of shirts. His eyes are glazed by the time I pull off my undershirt and run my hands down my own bare chest. Sabin sits up, pulling me into his lap and kissing me hungrily. I love this new feeling of skin on skin, not to mention the way our erections bump together maddeningly, and I run my fingers up his spine. If my twin is anything like me I know the touch will send shudders of pleasure through his whole body. He pulls out of the kiss, looking down at our groins, then back up with a little sheepish smile. "I'm afraid I don't exactly, uh, know how..."

"Why, my dear brother, are you saying you're a virgin?" I grin, seeing him blush further.

"C'mon, give me a break, I'm a monk! I've been living on a mountain for years, okay? I shouldn't even be doing this, now-"

"I know, I know. Don't worry, I'll guide you through it. And Sabin... I'm really honored to be your first." Leaving him with these words, I slide off the bed to search through the nightstand for the bottle of oil I haven't had to use in all too long. The enormity of what we're doing doesn't really hit until I've returned to the bed and begun tugging his pants down his muscular thighs. My brother, naked in my bed. I'm about to have sex with my brother.

My hand closes around him and he jerks in surprise, soft skin sliding against my palm. We're both more than hard enough, and  I wriggle out of my own pants, feeling the pressure of his eyes on me, before spreading a bit of the oil onto my hand. He gasps as I touch him again - the liquid is cool against his skin, but his erection doesn't waver. I give him a few pulls, feeling his foreskin sliding beneath the palm of one hand and his thigh trembling beneath the other. When he's slick enough I move on top of him, not bothering to prepare myself. I've done this enough times before. I want it tight and rough.

His hands dig into the sheets in anticipation as I guide him to my opening. He grits his teeth and I can tell it's taking every ounce of willpower for him to keep from thrusting upward. Carefully I push down, feeling the tip of his member slip past the tight ring of muscle. Oh, I've needed this for so long! The pain is nothing, and I settle down onto him, feeling him slide all the way in easily and gloriously. I take him to the root and it feels as though he's splitting me open, it's so wonderful. He's throbbing inside me, all the way through my body, through my heart and up into my brain, he's in my blood as it pulses, and I can't help but start to move, revelling in that feeling of completion.

Sabin's hands come to my hips, urging me to go faster, since we both seem to have lost all coherent speech. Soon I'm bucking wildly. Some of my hair has escaped its tie and it falls in strands of sweaty gold around my face as I ride him with everything I have, feeling the muscles of my anus clenching around him, trying to pull him even farther inside.

I come with his name on my lips, splattering my release across his stomach. He screws up his eyes, tosses his head back, his mouth open in a silent howl, and I feel his warmth deep inside me.

We both collapse, sweaty and exhausted and covered in semen. There are no words for this moment, for what we've just shared, for what we have dared to do. We simply soak in each other's presence for a long time.

Then, softly, he speaks.

"Happy birthday, Edgar."

I smile. "Happy birthday, little brother."

The End

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