“Mulin!”

A flutter of rainbow wings, and Kralin was squeezing him so tight he thought his ribs would creak. His bookish twin held him close, snout against his neck. “Mulin, oh, Mulin. I’d heard you almost…!” The rest of his words choked off; Kralin shivered and, somehow, squeezed still tighter.

“Oh, Kralin…” Rather awkwardly, Mulin wound an arm around his twin in turn, and stroked his jaw with his other hand. It had been all too long since they shared such a tender touch; alas that the circumstances were so… well, almost-dire. “Shh. I’m all right now, Kralin. I’m fine.”

Mother looked on with a wry, toothy smile. “Well, Mulin, I think it’s safe to say you’ll be here all night, yes? At least, you’d have to drag your brother bodily if you tried to leave…”

Mulin’s tail curled a bit more; he ducked his head. “I’ll be staying, yes, Mother. Tomorrow’s soon enough to stretch my wings.”

“Quite…” She held up a scroll case. “I’ve been asked to help with some kilns in Trurarin, and I’ll likely be gone till night tomorrow or the morning after. Your father won’t be back until the season’s catch is preserved, and he sent a message to say the hunt has been plentiful; two more days, most probably. You two take care of each other meanwhile, yes? At least tomorrow’s a rest day anyway.”

“We will, Mother,” Mulin promised, and Kralin lifted his muzzle long enough to voice his assent. She bent down to nuzzle at their cheeks in turn, wished them well, and slipped out into the corridor, already stretching her wings.

The boys settled in their shared den, Kralin more or less dragging Mulin to the couch so they could relax without breaking contact. Mulin was happy enough to curl up in the hollow of his brother’s wing and be fussed over, at least for a little; but he was also glad enough when Kralin sniffed and sat a bit straighter, his wing relaxing. Such concern, even – or especially – from his own twin, was rather embarrassing when he felt so healthy.

“I’m pleased you could feel the mana flow so strong, Mulin,” he said. “But if you’re ever in such a dire state again trying to catch up with my lessons, I’ll… I don’t know what.”

“Kralin…” Mulin turned his head; Kralin’s eyes were yellow now, as both of theirs were when they were worried, flecked with nervous red. “Whatever you do, don’t hold yourself back for my sake, please. We don’t have to follow the exact same path in life; I’m sure we’ll always be close in the ways that count.

“You’re probably right,” Kralin sighed; the red faded from his eyes, and slivers of a more peaceful blue showed up in its place. “But it’s so much better to be able to share my triumphs with you.”

“Once I have a few more triumphs of my own, I can just be happy that you’re happy,” Mulin chuckled, dragging a finger along his twin’s jaw in fond caress. “I’m sorry I’ve worried you, Kralin. I just… was feeling so useless, with such trouble in my lessons. We’re both expected to do well in magic, and you were, while I… well, never mind that now.” He cocked his head. “What do you think you might do as a profession, brother mine?”

“Hm?” Kralin tagged Mulin’s wrist with his forked tongue, and sat up. “I’m not entirely sure. The hybrid elemental magics are very enjoyable, but I like the notion of making something more lasting, as well. I might study to be an artificer.”

“Archwizard Sulon suggested I look into spell-form construction,” Mulin mused. “We might actually work together, if I do that and you go with artifice. Closer than if I follow Mother’s suggestion and study to be a battlemage – not that I think that would be a waste, but,” he grinned and nudged noses with his twin, “there’d be some appeal to working in concert.”

Kralin stiffened against him; for a brief moment he thought he’d done something he shouldn’t, but far from being uncomfortable, Kralin just wound his wing tighter again. “That there would,” he breathed over Mulin’s cheek, hot and husky. “We could even go into business with it, making devices and the forms to keep them working in good order…”

Again, it felt as though Mulin’s heart skipped a beat; this time, there was nothing the least bit upsetting about it. He remembered the feeling when he’d first tapped that great flow of mana; he brought that feeling back, savoured it, even went so far as to reach out and seize the mana around him. His fingers crackled against Kralin’s palm, and the whirl of colour on his twin’s hide shifted where the arcs played; their fingers laced together, and Kralin fed an answering charge back to him.

Their muzzles met, tongues venturing forth, meeting and tangling with each other for a moment, then drawing back.

You’ll know when you encounter the right sort of someone for you, their father had told him. For you, there’s one waiting, somewhere; but that doesn’t mean they’re the only one you’ll enjoy. You’ll find someone who will complete you; someone whose every touch makes your blood sing. You’ll want to be as close to that someone as you can. That’s lust, son. It’s a powerful thing, like fire; and like fire, if you’re careful with it, it can do very fine things if you indulge it. Temper it with true fondness, and you’ll feel whole like never before.

Well, this was that someone. He’d been here all along.

He shifted, turning toward his twin, straddling him. “Dear brother,” he hissed, sliding his hands past Kralin’s sides, slipping under his wings. Kralin whimpered, arching toward him, pressing body to body with a shuffle of his wings.

Again their mouths met, this time for a fair bit longer. He was delirious; nothing mattered in the world but their touch. His blood did indeed sing; he felt the swell of arousal, not as the gentle thing he’d known on his own for the past few years, but with electric force, and he felt his twin’s against his own, with only a few sheer layers of cloth separating them.

And then cold lucidity descended upon him.

This is forbidden.

Siblings could not love each other; their union was anathema; it weakened the race. He’d never been specifically warned about it, but the confident truth of it lurked in every lesson on love and partnership, every tale of romance.

He forced himself to draw back. The separation was an agony all its own, and it drew a whimper from Kralin as well; but his twin’s eyes flew open, confusion giving place to dismay as the same thought came to him.

“Oh, Mulin,” Kralin sighed. But he did not wriggle away, did not push his brother any farther.

Mulin sighed, letting his head sink to Kralin’s shoulder. “Dear Kralin,” he whispered. “I’ve never before wished we’d been born to different families. We could have such a life together…”

“We still can,” Kralin breathed. “We can’t marry, we can’t… but we can love each other, nothing can take that away from us. We can always be there for each other, through all the hard times. And for the nights when we so dearly want to be close to someone… we can share the pain, bear it together. We don’t have to bear it alone.”

There was at least that.

A thought came to his mind. “Maybe, we could… well, do we need to be so shy about… about pleasuring ourselves, when it’s only us here?” He could hardly care less about his own pleasure, but he so dearly wanted to see Kralin’s passion now, even if he couldn’t be a part of it.

“No,” Kralin breathed, a smile dancing over his muzzle. “That we don’t.” By the burning orange need in his eyes and the way they wandered Mulin figured his thoughts were following much the same pattern.

Mulin drew back, loosening his belt and letting it slip free. He glanced behind him, sliding up onto one of the chairs; Kralin looked over to his own, rejected it as too far, and stayed on the couch, though he did half-rise to undress as well. They weren’t so far apart, really; if they stretched their wings out, either could still draw the other in close.

But for the moment, he leaned back, tail curling around one leg of the plush chair, and feasted his eyes on the sight before him, the lean form, the colourful hide, the glimpse of opalescent skin nudging out from its slit.

He swallowed hard, fingers seeking out his own exposed flesh, brushing it; Kralin mirrored the gesture, but with a distinctly firmer touch, rubbing along that flesh, coaxing enough of it into the open that he could wrap his hand around and give it a squeeze.

Mulin drank in the sight as Kralin worked himself to full extension, slender, lengthy, curvy flesh gleaming with all the colours of the rainbow, but all of them so much more subtle than their own hides; the flesh itself was mirror-bright, and only in the highlights did the colours spring out.

He felt, more than heard, a moan slip from his own throat.

Kralin’s eyes met his for a moment, his eyes still the same brilliant orange; Mulin’s own vision had gained a tint of that colour, so intense was the emotion behind it. The world seemed to be afire; well, the world could burn, so long as his twin was enjoying himself. He gave Kralin something more to enjoy, working both hands along his length, squeezing the slickness out and stroking it along the flesh.

With another whimper, Kralin shifted and curled up. His tongue darted forth, and he shuddered as it touched the taper of his tip; it wound around just behind it, and seemed to pull his head right down to engulf it. He had a good notion; the scent of it was appealing enough, and Mulin freed one hand to lick at his fingers, and found that taste quite pleasant. But he didn’t want to risk missing a moment of what he was seeing, and so he kept stroking, even as Kralin curled tighter still, sliding more and more of his length into his muzzle. About two-thirds of the way down, he shivered, hauled his head off, and coughed; giving Mulin an apologetic look and a nervous grin, he tried again, not going quite so far, but slurping at himself rather busily, and still keeping some attention on his twin across the space between them.

It was a delight, to see how greatly he enjoyed tending to himself, enjoyed the sight of Mulin’s own pleasure; each one’s need fed on the others, building higher and higher until his vision swam with it, as though the orange cast to his vision were a true fire making the air swim in a heat haze. But the air around them could never be a match for the heat he felt gathering in his own loins.

Kralin surrendered first to his pleasure, shuddering, his eyes squeezing shut for just a moment as a whimper slid around his mouthful of himself. He swallowed and licked, licked and swallowed, and drank himself down, trembling in ecstacy.

The surge of his own pleasure caught Mulin quite unaware. There was no plateau as when he’d pleasured himself before; one moment the sensation was building apace, the next it surged higher, higher than ever before, dizzying, even intoxicating. Hot, sticky moisture streaked his hide over his chest and stomach, and even ran over his stroking fingers a little; again and again he shoved into his grip, pumping out of himself as much as he could, all the while relishing the sight of his twin devouring his own seed.

The moment passed; he sagged in his seat, and Kralin lifted his head, leaning over to sprawl along the couch.

Once he’d caught his breath a little, the first thing that came to Mulin’s mind was, “How was it?”

Kralin swallowed and made a face. “Rather strange,” he admitted, and flashed a sideways grin. “But not bad. To see how much you enjoyed it, I’d drink down ten times more.”

“I’ll have to try it sometime,” Mulin sighed. He wondered if Kralin’s… no, best not to torture himself with such speculation. He wondered if he’d find another male he could enjoy, and it that male’s seed would taste nice, spiced by the knowledge that he’d be pleasuring a lover.

As though reading his thoughts, Kralin stretched and sat up, saying, “We’ll have to try to find some lovers. Otherwise I don’t think I’ll be able to keep myself away from you, Mulin, brother or no…”

The thought shouldn’t excite him; all the laws said he should be repulsed. But it did, and he wasn’t.

“I wonder if one person could be with us both,” he mused. “I think there are some precedents in the stories…”

“Should look in the archives,” Kralin said with a grin. “Find out if there are any in law. If there are, well, that might make things a little simpler…”

He thought about it some more. Wondered if some nice male would like the pair of rainbow males nursing at his length, polishing it from either side with their tongues. Would it be so bad, in that case, if they rubbed against each other a little? Or maybe a female, instead. He didn’t know how large other males were, though Kralin was, from what he could tell, of a size with him; that was to be expected for twins, just another way in which they were identical. But if they weren’t too big, maybe they could both slide into someone at once, snug in the same tight warmth, slipping alongside each other…

Oh, yes. If that was a workable solution, it would be a very pleasant one indeed.

With those thoughts to look forward to and his immediate lust slaked, sleep would come a little easier.