This is a Murtagh/Eragon two shot from my story When the Ice Breaks. In this, Eragon and Murtagh don't know they're brothers. I'm making it it's own fic because I'm rewriting that story and I'm not sure if this lemon will fit into the new story line. So for now it's just its own PWP. Sorry if it's confusing on its own. Enjoy~
Warnings: guy on guy sex, masterbation, lemon, lime, pwp
Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon or Murtagh (unfortunately)
Part 1: scars and kisses
"It takes a minute to have a crush on someone, an hour to like someone, and a day to love someone...but it takes a lifetime to forget someone." ~ Author Unknown
"Love makes life so confusing, but without love would you really want to live?" ~Author Unknown
Eragon jumped when the door to his cell opened. Galbatorix strode into the room, a victorious smile plastered on his face. Eragon tensed, preparing for the king to start their usual routine. The last three days had been a blur of mental sparring and emotional scarring. He wasn't ready for them to start up again, but he wouldn't lie down and give up either. He glared at the king, waiting for him to make his move, but he simply stood at the foot of the bed smiling. Eragon frowned slightly, a feeling of unease straining his nerves. Galbatorix said a combination of three words in the ancient language, causing a shiver to run up Eragon's spine. It felt like an invisible collar had tightened around his neck when the king had uttered those words. He felt like he was going to throw up.
"That, Eragon, is your true name."
Eragon shook his head slowly, eyes widening with a mixture of fear and disbelief. The king's smile deepened at his obvious distress. The following process of forcing Eragon to swear loyalty to Galbatorix and other oaths in the ancient language that would prevent him from leaving the castle or trying to contact people outside of it was long and painful. When it was finally complete Galbatorix had one of the soldiers remove the shackles on Eragon's wrists. He rubbed them where the metal had bruised the skin.
"What about the collar," he asked hoarsely.
The king replied, "I'm not sure I trust you with magic quite yet. You'll have to earn that freedom." Eragon glared at him fiercely. Galbatorix ignored the look. "Murtagh will be down shortly to show you to your room. You have free reign of the castle and its grounds, but that's it." With that Galbatorix left and Murtagh entered the room.
"Come on," he said softly. Eragon frowned slightly and followed him out of the cell. Why was Murtagh speaking so, gently? The last time he had seen the other rider, Murtagh had been switching between an angry tone and a neutral one, but never a gentle one. Was it because they were now in the same boat?
They walked down the hallway in silence. After a few forks, they came to a tall spiral staircase that rose up into one of the many glass and stone spiral turrets the elves had built before the foresworn had taken the city. Four stories up, a door began to appear every two stories. Murtagh paused before one that had a sapphire embedded in the wood and opened it. The room was spacious, round and brightly lit from the sunlight streaming in through the glass walls. In the center resided a giant blue cushion bed built into the floor, much like the one he and Saphira had shared in their treehouse during their stay in Ellesmera. A feeling of loss welled up in Eragon when he realized how empty the huge bed would be without her. He heard Murtagh shut the door to the staircase quietly behind him.
"We need to talk," the taller rider said in the same soft voice he'd used earlier. Eragon turned to face him, his chocolate eyes guarded. What could Murtagh possible want to say to him? A small shred of hope surfaced in his mind at the possibility that the other rider wanted to mend their friendship, but he quickly pushed the idea away. Better to not get his hopes up. A fierce glint entered Murtagh's grey eyes, causing Eragon to shift back instinctively. The other teen's look was almost predatory.
"What?," Eragon asked, trying not to fidget under the other's intense scrutiny. Suddenly Murtagh moved forward and pinned Eragon to the wall behind him, crashing their lips together in a feral kiss. It took Eragon's brain a second to catch up with his body as Murtagh deepened the kiss, then he started struggling against him. Murtagh pressed him to the glass wall harder, bringing a knee up between his legs and grinding it against him. A gasp escaped Eragon's lips, only to be swallowed by Murtagh. Then there was pain. Murtagh let them up for air, panting, when he noticed the pained look on Eragon's face. He frowned and pulled away slightly. Eragon saw the worry in his eyes and pointed to his heaving chest and shoulder, where red blotches were already blossoming on the stark bandages.
Confusion filled Eragon as he realized he missed Murtagh's touch. He pushed it aside as Murtagh grabbed his hand and led him over to the huge bed. A thrill shot through the younger rider as they approached it. Images of what the could do on it flashed through his mind, sending a rosy tint to his cheeks. Murtagh didn't miss the blush and smirked as he pulled Eragon down next to him on the bed. Eragon's head was spinning and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. The feeling intensified when Murtagh looked into Eragon's eyes, as if asking for permission, then began to slowly unwrap the bandages from his shoulder and chest. Eragon was surprised how just the simple task of removing his bandages was causing his stomach to flip flop. At this rate Murtagh was going to give him a freaking heart attack! He was jolted out of his thoughts by the other rider's lust filled voice.
"Did you like it," Murtagh asked calmly, not looking at him. The question caught Eragon off guard. He replayed the last minute in his head. Had he liked it? It hadn't felt bad, at least not until Murtagh had pressed into his wounds. He felt his face heat up when he remembered the pleasure that had filled his body.
"Why'd you do it," he asked shakily.
Murtagh's lips quirked slightly. "I don't know. Ever since we talked two days ago, I can't get you out of my head. I laid awake at night wondering how you were fairing against that bastard with the crown," he paused and finished removing the last bandage. He muttered "waise heill" and his gedwey ignasia started glowing. The slash wound across Eragon's chest and the stab wound in his shoulder healed, leaving behind two faint white scars. The first marks to mar his body after the Agaetí Blödhren .
Murtagh continued his explanation, tossing the bandages aside on the floor, "And then you started appearing in my dreams," he leaned closer to Eragon, causing the other rider's heart to go into over drive. "You would be sitting just like this," Murtagh whispered, his warm breath caressing Eragon's earlobe, "and I would lean forward and do something like this..." he ran his tongue over the edge of Eragon's ear, sending a shiver down the teen's spine. "and this." Murtagh gently kissed down his jaw and whispered against his neck, "and this." He sucked gently on Eragon's neck, earning a low moan from the other rider. "and then you would moan exactly like that." he moved down to a dusty nipple and took the already pert bud into his mouth. Eragon groaned as pleasure washed over him. He had never experienced anything like this. An alarm went off somewhere in his head. Could they even be doing this?
I mean we're both guys!, thought Eragon uncertainly.
His discomfort was quickly shoved to the back of his mind as Murtagh rolled his other nipple between his fingers, causing his breath to hitch. A wave of pleasure washed away his concerns as his thought process was taken over by something much lower than his brain. He barely noticed Murtagh slowly lower him onto his back. The darker haired teen moved his mouth back up to Eragon's, grinding their hips together fiercely. Eragon groaned again, allowing Murtagh's tongue to explore the inside of his mouth. Who cares if this is wrong, he decided, it feels too good to be wrong.
The feeling of the hard bulge in the Murtagh's pants grinding against him was enough to make Eragon hard. They broke for air, both of them panting heavily. The lust that was set deep in Murtagh's fierce grey eyes made Eragon blush. The look was so possessive, and Eragon realized that on some level he liked the thought of the other rider claiming him as his. The thought turned him on even more and he flung his arms around Murtagh's neck, clinging to him for dear life as wave after wave of pleasure hit him from the friction the other rider was creating. His hips began to move against Murtagh's as well, forcing a surprised gasp from the other rider's lips. He smirked, enjoying the fact that he could have such a strong affect on him. He closed his eyes and moaned loudly, no longer caring if anyone heard. Murtagh grunted in response and quickened the pace of his grinding.
Through the cloud in his head, Eragon felt something slip beneath the waist band of his pants. A calloused hand squeezed his length and a rough thumb ran over the head. Eragon shouted as a sudden rush of overwhelming pleasure hit him and he came, spilling his seed over Murtagh's hand and the insides of his pants. He lay on the bed gasping for breath, trying to clear his blurry vision. Above him, Murtagh's chest was heaving in effort, a bead of sweat trickling lazily down the side of his well shaven face. He swooped down for one last kiss, then pulled his hand out of Eragon's pants and looked down at him, a slight uncertainty in his eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by his usual unwavering gaze as he looked deep into Eragon's eyes. He spoke his next words carefully.
"Come to my room tonight. It's the one above yours with the ruby embedded in the door. This whole situation is confusing, and I don't quite understand it, but, I think I'm in love with you and I want to know if you feel the same. You can give me your answer tonight and if you don't feel the same way as me I'll shut up and leave you alone." He stood up and gently pulled the covers over Eragon. Giving him a kiss on the forehead, he left the room, closing the door behind him. Eragon lay in a daze. He tried to think coherently, but sleep pulled on his eyelids and he gave up, passing into the first deep sleep he'd had in days. The last thought he had before he passed out was that, somehow, the bed didn't seem as empty any more.