Work Text:
“...And with the regional divisions surrounding Dras Leona existing in such a disorderly and untenable state, the tax code is opened to so many corruptible loopholes that even the most common citizen could exploit the collection system of it’s necessary revenue! We must take into consideration...”
Eragon only barely managed to keep his head from slipping out of his hand as he nearly nodded off again. He glanced down at the mediocre drawing of a toad (or was it a frog?) that he had scribbled on the side of his paper in an attempt to stay awake. He set the pen down with a sigh. Eragon had been stuck in this meeting for hours, listening to the most boring people in the universe go on and on about tax policies that had absolutely nothing to do with him and he had no input on. He had long since given up on listening. At this point, he’d be happy if he could just finish the meeting without falling asleep.
Ignoring the monotonous lecturing of the Head of Finance, Eragon directed his thoughts outward. Slowly and carefully, as to avoid notice, he reached his mind to an area of the citadel where he hoped to find someone.
When he finally brushed against Murtagh’s thoughts, he felt a jolt of surprise that quickly dissolved into irritation as his brother recognized him. Unmistakably standoffish, Murtagh said, You know, when I said that I wanted to be with you again, this isn’t exactly what I meant. Eragon tried sending a sheepish apology in return but abandoned the attempt when Murtagh remained surly.
When Eragon had reluctantly left the dragonhold for Ilirea some time ago to fulfill his political obligations, he had no idea just how long he’d be gone for. Month after maddening month had gone by without any promise of freedom. Both he and Murtagh had bemoaned the inadequacy of brief conversations through enchanted mirrors and longed to be together again. Eventually, Murtagh’s impatience got the better of him and, after pulling some strings and making excuses, he left for Ilirea himself.
Not much... had changed.
We wouldn’t need to talk like this if you could, for once in your life, just say no! Murtagh snapped, accusingly.
It’s not my fault! Eragon retorted indignantly when, in reality, he knew Murtagh was right. As the leader of the Riders, people constantly extended him offers and invitations to participate in a whole array of things. Of course, his did have obligations to fill, but then there were the... other things. Like discussions over the finances in a country he didn’t even live in anymore. Whenever people would try to convince him to go to these types of things, he had difficulty saying no. People looked up to him, respected him, and he didn’t want to come off as rude!
Honestly, Eragon, it’s not that complicated, Murtagh interjected into his thoughts. People probably invite you to such useless meetings just to seem polite. I’m willing to bet that most of them don’t even expect you to say yes. Would be nice if you didn’t, he finished with a grumble.
I know... Eragon sighed. I won’t next time, I promise. Murtagh grouched but Eragon thought he seemed to start to come around.
Spare me? Eragon asked sweetly. Please, please, please? I love you, I miss you, I just want to talk to you. I’m so bored without you, please... my favorite brother~
Finally, Murtagh’s frustration broke into amusement at Eragon’s needling. He laughed and Eragon’s heart fluttered at the sound. Fine. I’ll give you mercy... for now. But you need to snag me one of those blackberry tarts from the kitchen as you come back. Eragon agreed amiably. Be glad that I love you.
Oh, most certainly, he said breezily. Now, please, love, won’t you distract me? If I have to listen to these people for any longer, my brain will melt.
Dramatic much? Murtagh scoffed, but he did as asked. He talked to Eragon about his day and the interesting things he’d heard around the city recently. They gossiped and joked silently across their link for the better part of an hour until the meeting finally ended. Eragon stood quickly and turned for the door, but before he could escape, a tall, well dressed man waylaid him.
“Shadeslayer, it’s such a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I’m honored to meet someone as wise and powerful as you.” He held out his hand.
Eragon shook it, forcing a smile. “The pleasure is mine... ahhh...”
“Oh! Pardon my rudeness! My name is Larod, I’m a member of the advising council. I must say, I’m very glad you were able to come to Ilirea when we needed you. I know you’re extremely busy with the dragon Riders, so it is good to know you have not forgotten about us here in Alagaesia.” Eragon hummed in response to his words, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. He glanced past his shoulder to the door and wondered when it would be acceptable to excuse himself.
“Actually, I was hoping I could have a favor from you.” At this, Eragon snapped his gaze back to the man. “A spot on the council needs to be filled and I arranged for a meeting tomorrow to address a number of my concerns. If you don’t have any prior commitments, I would appreciate your presence to offer your opinions.”
Eragon laughed nervously and said, “Well, that’s not really my area of expertise...”
“Nonsense!” Larod smiled reassuringly and Eragon’s heart sank. “You have no need to be so humble; I’m sure your wisdom would prove very beneficial to our meeting. We will gather in the west wing tomorrow morning, can you make it?”
“Ah, well...” Eragon wrung his hands and squirmed uncomfortably. He braced himself to say no when he made the mistake of looking up at Larod. His expression was earnest and his eyes kind; Eragon felt his resolve crumble. “Yes... I can be there.”
Larod smiled brightly and Eragon had to fight a grimace. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. I’ll let you go; you’re a very busy man, I’m sure,” which he was, as the rest of his day was filled with other obligations. Larod touched his shoulder as he moved past and began to talk to someone else.
As he finally escaped the room, Eragon became aware of waves of frustrated disappointment echoing in his mind. With a sinking feeling, he realized that Murtagh had stayed connected to him and had observed the whole conversation. Murtagh, wait, I-
He severed their connection.
Eragon pinched the bridge of his nose. It would take a lot more than a blackberry tart to get back in Murtagh’s favor now.
Eragon lasted longer in this meeting.
That’s not to say it was any more interesting; quite the opposite. It was even more excruciatingly boring than yesterday’s tax meeting had been. The only reason Eragon waited so long to contact Murtagh was trepidation.
Last night had been painful. As was becoming usual, by the time Eragon had returned to their room, he felt too exhausted to do much else than sleep. This was not lost on Murtagh. He attempted to placate him and apologize for his mistake, but even to him it didn’t feel very sincere with tomorrow’s meeting looming on the horizon, promising to keep them apart. When they both settled into bed, Murtagh had turned his back to him and left a very deliberate section of sheets in between them. Eragon got the message. Even as tired as he was, it took him a long time to fall asleep without Murtagh at his side.
And so, aware that Murtagh would likely be in no mood to help him through the problem he created on his own, Eragon did his best to not give into the temptation to contact him.
It didn’t work.
It was just so boring! Even with the hours crawling by at a snail’s pace, it was well into his usual lunchtime, and these people still showed no signs of shutting up! It was unbearable. So he gave in; promising himself to do whatever it took to get back on Murtagh’s good side, he reached out.
He found Murtagh in their bedroom and offered a meek greeting. To his immense surprise, Murtagh maintained his mild mood as he said, Eragon, how’s the meeting going?
Ah... Good... he replied reflexively, distracted by Murtagh’s apparent pleasantness. Or- wait, no, it’s terrible, he amended, and I’m about to die of boredom. So I thought I could maybe talk to you...? Eragon ventured cautiously.
I figured as much. Honestly, I’m surprised you even lasted this long. Eragon laughed sheepishly in response. Well, I was in the middle of something just a moment ago, so as long as you don’t mind me being a bit preoccupied, I can be your distraction for a while.
Eragon breathed a little sigh of relief and tried not to smile. That was a small price to pay; he would likely get distracted by the meeting anyway, so he could hardly complain about the same thing from Murtagh. Of course not, he answered quickly, I don’t mind! Really, I’m just glad you aren’t too mad at me. I don’t think I could slog through the rest of this on my own. What were you up to, anyway?
A sudden wave of devious satisfaction came from Murtagh that made the back of Eragon’s neck prickle uneasily and made him wonder if he had just walked into a trap. Oh, you know- Murtagh widened their mental connection to a whole array of sensations and- oh shit- just having a little fun.
Murtagh was sprawled naked on their bed with a hand between his legs, fingers playing with his clit. Eragon’s cock twitched. Trap indeed.
Murtagh! Eragon groaned desperately, fighting to keep his face neutral. You can’t-
Can’t what? Murtagh cut in sharply. Mastrubate? I think I surely can. Especially since my lover seems to have no interest in giving me pleasure.
Eragon bit back a gasp and struggled to focus as Murtagh rubbed his clit harder. Please- ah- I’m sorry! I really am! I know it’s my fault and-
Oh no no! I don’t mean to say that it’s your fault and you need to apologize, he said in a tone that heavily suggested that it was his fault and he needed to apologize. I’m just saying that you have no right to complain about me masturbating when you can’t find the time for me. And besides, you already said you didn’t mind if I was preoccupied while talking to you. He could feel Murtagh smile. It would be rude to go back on your word now.
To his horror, Eragon could feel his cock starting to rise in his pants. In what he hoped was a subtle movement, he pulled his chair closer to the table and set his forearm over his groin. He desperately fought the flush encroaching on his cheeks as he glanced nervously around the table. He made a weak attempt to pull away from Murtagh’s mind, but the waves of pleasure dragged him right back in.
Murtagh! You have to- he couldn’t stop the soft grunt that escaped his lips when Murtagh suddenly pushed two eager fingers into his cunt and curled them hard into that spot that felt so- oh Gods, he’s not going to survive this.
A couple people near him glanced his way and Eragon tired for a strained smile, hoping to put them at ease. They looked away.
Please, fuck, Murtagh! He begged. You have to stop. I’m going to get caught!
Murtagh paused. Do you want me to stop? he asked pointedly. Eragon knew he was serious. Murtagh would never go through with something like this if Eragon truly wanted him to stop. He could get out of this mess, all he had to do was say so. He just had to say... to say...
He heard Murtagh’s breathless laugh through Murtagh’s own mind. Oh, Eragon. You see, I know you. You can’t tell me to stop ‘cause you don’t want me to stop. You can’t hide anything from me, not when we’re linked like this. And don’t pretend you don’t love the thought of getting caught. Your cock certainly does. He was right, damn him, his dick was fully hard and throbbing desperately under the now restricting seams of his pants.
Eragon felt Murtagh plant his feet on the mattress and start to work his fingers faster. Surrounded by people you barely know and you’re still lusting after it. Imagine if they knew. If they saw you, flushed and panting and hard as a rock without even a touch... what would they think of you? What if they knew what a slut you could be?
Eragon’s muscles trembled with the effort of keeping him still. He wanted nothing more than to throw his head back and moan. And Murtagh had the right of it, the thought of getting caught was so beyond arousing that he could hardly bear it. He could no longer deny the exhibitionist streak he’d repressed for his entire life.
(In the back of his mind, he knew that it was an idle fantasy for several reasons. Aside from the obvious damage it would cause for him to be caught inappropriately, if anyone really saw him flushed and panting and hard, he had the feeling that Murtagh would have a fit of jealousy. He could see him refusing to share, wanting that sight all to himself. That thought, too, was arousing.)
He felt Murtagh add a third finger and arch up off the bed and he was filled with a sudden, desperate urge to see him twisting and writhing so beautifully. He’d do anything to watch his gorgeous body as he pleasured himself.
Murtagh’s purr filled Eragon’s mind. You flatter me, he said, clearly pleased by Eragon’s desires. Would that I could see you too. Shame that we’re restricted to fantasy. I wish it was your cock that I had in me... he trailed off with devilish intention then, to Eragon’s grief, proceeded to imagine exactly that.
He deliberately clenched and fluttered around his fingers and Eragon wanted to sob. He was helpless to do anything but get swept up into Murtagh’s fantasies. He imagined sinking his cock into his hot cunt, how wet Murtagh would be for him, how good it would feel to start thrusting into his depths. Murtagh squirmed and Eragon pictured how it would look beneath him, twisting so prettily between his arms...
Helpless and desperate, Eragon abruptly fixed his dick in a harsh grip through his trousers. He couldn’t risk pumping his hand, the movement would have been too obvious, so he settled for tightening and relaxing his grip to get at least some stimulation.
He noticed the gaze of a man across the table, looking askance at him. He realized how strained he must look and forced himself to relax some and mouthed "Fine" at the man. He stared at him suspiciously for a moment longer, then turned away. Eragon cursed the way his cock throbbed harder during the encounter.
Poor little Eragon, Murtagh crooned. Can’t get even the slightest bit of friction. Here, let me help. He lowered his other hand to rub at his abandoned clit with a loud moan. Eragon wanted to wail. Poor slut, pinned down by everyone’s stares when all you want to do is to be here and fuck me. A noble cause... Or maybe not? A sly feeling overtook his mind. Or would you rather be in my position?
Eragon’s cock jumped as Murtagh said, Laid out on the bed, stuffed full with my fingers... is that what you want? and Eragon hadn’t thought about it until then, but once it was said, it was all he could think of. Murtagh, pumping three fingers deep in his hole, twisting into all the right spots; he feared he would start drooling.
Oh yes, you do like that. Like the thought of me fucking you, stretching you open. Murtagh crooked his fingers into that spot again and Eragon twitched, imagining it as his prostate instead. I’d make you beg for it. By the time you’d come, you’d be crying for mercy. Eragon sucked in a tiny, pained gasp. He hardly even had to imagine; he was damn well ready to cry for it right then. Anything to get Murtagh around him, in him, anything; he wanted- he needed-
Eragon jolted at the sound of chairs being moved. He focused and saw most of the people around the table pushing their chairs back and standing up. He looked over at the woman standing up beside him and when she saw his confusion, she said, “Larod decided to break for lunch, weren’t you paying attention?”
“Uhhh...”
She put a hand on his shoulder briefly and said with a grimace, “I hope you start feeling better soon, then,” and walked away. Before he could react, a voice from behind startled him.
“I noticed you looking very tense, are you feeling alright?” Standing there was Larod, looking down at him with a look of concern.
“Ah, yes,” Eragon answered a split second before he realized that he should claim illness to give himself an out. He heard Murtagh laughing at his expense in the back of his mind. Still, his mistake might not have much consequence considering that Larod looked less than convinced.
“I see... Perhaps you just need a break. Would you like to join us for lunch?”
“No!” Eragon declared much too loudly and much too quickly. He remembered just in time that if he stood up, the real reason for his discomfort would be more than obvious. “Um, I mean- aha, my stomach is feeling a bit uneasy and I think eating might make it worse. But please, don’t let me hold you back, go on without me.” He tried for a smile.
Larod responded with a deep frown and a searching look. Eragon surreptitiously pressed his arm down harder over his erection hoping to keep it out of sight. It didn’t help that it throbbed under the scrutiny. At last, he said, “Very well then... I hope you recover soon.” Then he turned and left the room.
Eragon breathed a short sigh of relief and studied the room. A number of people had remained, some working on papers at the table and others standing and conversing quietly. He wondered whether or not he would spend this whole break trapped beneath the table. A fair few people would see him if he stood up and he couldn’t imagine that-
Well aren’t you living dangerously, Murtagh said while restarting his ministrations. Not quite as eloquent when you’re hot and bothered, hm?
-Murtagh would give him enough of a break for his erection to go down. He sighed. He had almost resigned himself to his continued torture when, with a feeling of such immense relief, he remembered the coat on the back of his chair.
Eragon swept the coat from the chair back and folded it over his arm so that it would hang in front of his waist. Careful to keep it in place, he stood and strode from the room as fast as his dignity would allow. He turned and started down the hallway leading to his and Murtagh’s room then stopped. Murtagh had already returned to his previous pace and then some. Eragon’s veins buzzed with pleasure. He needed relief now.
After two quick glances down the hall to ensure it was empty, Eragon opened the nearest door, which turned out to be a closet, and shut himself inside. The moment the door closed, Eragon wrenched open his belt and shoved his hand down his pants. All the while, Murtagh said, Gods, you really can’t get enough, can you? Oh- can’t even make it back to the bedroom; you have to shut yourself in a dirty little closet instead. Anyone could walk by and hear you, know what filthy things you’re up to. Ahhh... Is that why you did it? Too thrilled by the thought of getting discovered?
Eragon had to press the back of his hand over his mouth to keep quiet at that. Ohh Murtagh- please...! He could tell from Murtagh’s fragmented thoughts that he was close to his climax. And no wonder; the feeling of his hands battering his cunt and teasing his clit was overwhelming. Now finally, finally, Eragon could respond in kind, taking his aching cock in hand and fisting it desperately.
He bit into his hand viciously, and even that didn’t stop a high pitched whine from escaping him. He threw his head back and abandoned any thought of fantasies, simply concentrating on the pleasure coming from Murtagh and himself. Gods, he was close, he was so, so close-!
“...not sure. Our time frame is only so long.”
Eragon’s eyes snapped open and he nearly leapt out of his skin. There was someone outside. He heard footsteps approaching but his hand didn’t stop; he couldn’t stop. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Murtagh whined, Eragon- ohh- don’t! but he barely heard it. It felt too good, he tightened his grip just so...
“Still, I think if we gathered everyone again, after some time to think, we could be more productive.”
Shit, that was Larod, even closer. He backed up, but didn’t stop. He heard something click. His shoulder bumped into something that clattered to the ground. From outside-
“What was that?”
Eragon came.
He threw his head back, too breathless to make a sound, as he released all across his hand and front. Oh Gods, they were going to find him like this, covered in come and still reeling from orgasm. They were too close, right outside, he could hear footsteps then a hand grabbing the door handle-
Then it rattled.
“Locked”
“Something must have been unsteady then. Or perhaps there’s a rat.”
“No matter, I suppose, one of the maids will take care of it. Now then, what do you think of the possibility of arranging some private meetings...”
The voices and footsteps faded down the hall as the pair walked away. The quiet sounds of panting filled the little closet as Eragon started to relax. Locked. He hadn’t done that. He didn’t lock the door when he had come in here and he’d been far too distracted to do it afterward. He couldn’t fathom how it had gotten locked until he suddenly thought, Wait, did you do that?
Murtagh’s reply was slow and unsteady and only then did Eragon realize that he had pulled Murtagh over the edge with him, connected as they were. You’re only allowed to like the idea of getting caught, not actually getting caught.
I didn’t even notice you casting the spell.
You were preoccupied.
Eragon had to concede to that one. Still... Thanks for the save.
Of course, Murtagh sounded indignant. No one should see you like that but m- he cut himself off.
Eragon blinked in surprise, then felt a grin cross his lips. He couldn’t help his pleasure at hearing that his postulation of Murtagh’s possessiveness turned out to be completely true. Upon noticing his reaction, Murtagh turned haughty and aloof they way a cat would upon realizing it had an audience to something embarrassing. Wipe that smug grin off your face. It’s nothing. It’s just my job to look out for you being a fool.
Hmhmm, of course, Eragon allowed, letting Murtagh know he didn’t buy it, but letting it slide for now. He was still stuck in this filthy closet, after all. He had different priorities.
He looked down and sighed. The front of his shirt was stained with come. He wiped the rest left on his hand onto it. Luckily, he still had his coat which he had abandoned on the ground the moment he got in. He righted his pants and belt then swept it off the floor and put it on. If anyone asked, he’d say he caught a chill.
Eragon unlocked the door and then hesitated. He turned around and after a short search, found a reflective metal pail he used to quickly scry the hallway. Upon finding it empty, he replaced the pail and quickly slipped back outside. After a brief deliberation, he returned to the meeting room. Everyone was starting to settle back down. Eragon was able to pull Larod aside.
“Ah, Shadeslayer, I was just wondering where you’d gone off to. Are you feeling any better?”
“Afraid not. It’s gotten a bit worse, actually,” Eragon lied. “I think it would be best if I left the rest of the meeting to you.”
Larod frowned. “Are you sure? We could postpone the rest of the meeting until you’re feeling well again. Would you like to rejoin us then?”
“No. I’m quite sure. I have little enough to contribute anyway. I have full confidence in you expertise and capabilities. You’ll do fine without me,” Eragon said evenly.
“Well, if you insist...” Larod gave a smile and clapped his shoulder briefly. “Thank you for being here while you could.” Eragon nodded and they exchanged farewells. When the door finally clicked shut behind him, he heaved a sigh of relief.
Now that wasn’t so hard, was it! You finally managed to say no! Murtagh crowed. Smug satisfaction rolled off him in waves. Eragon scowled.
You, Eragon declared flatly, are a bastard. And the moment I get back there, I am going to fuck you into the headboard so hard, you won’t be able to remember your own name. When Murtagh’s delight continued unabated, Eragon reflected that this was perhaps not much of a punishment. And maybe, Murtagh didn’t do anything to warrant punishing.
But, Eragon thought as he started toward their bedroom, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it anyway.