'Marad! Wake up!' said Astil Soulfire, shaking the sixteen-year-old boy. Marad made a few muffled sounds and then rolled over on his other side, pulling the pillow over his head.
'Marad! Get out of bed, right now!' Astil said again with authority but Marad would not budge.
'Did you hear me? You'll be late for the family meeting!'
'I'm not coming,' said Marad from under the pillow,
'What is this nonsense?' said Astil putting his arms on his hips. 'Of course - you're coming. Your father - the King - summoned us and we need to be there.'
'All he wants to talk about is Gawain and the fact that he cannot father a child; boring stuff. Why would I want to hear all of that?' said Marad.
'Because! You are part of this family - too. We all are - and we have a duty to be there.'
Marad's head came out from under the pillow. His tousled hair and youthful face clearly made him part of the Lightray family, although Marad never thought of that as a good thing.
The truth was that Marad Lightray, young student of Law at the Abaran University in Aquileia, was not very happy to be the son of the King. Part of it was that he hardly ever spoke with or saw his father, and partly because Astil and Marag Soulfire had raised him since he was a baby.
Astil Soulfire was the first son of Evert, the Prince Consort. He and his husband Marag, who came from the Duchy of Enoral, in the southeast of Abaron, had been married since they had come of age and they had raised a household full of children.
They, not only had three children of their own: Ingor, Abyl and Samad, but also helped raise Marad and Brindal Lightray the last two children of the King.
'Please!' implored Astil, 'Let's not start with that again! Yes, we all know what a bitter young man you are because you wear that gruesome name that allows you to study in the best places of the kingdom, it affords you a decent life-style and ensures you get the best of services everywhere you go. Oh, yes! Let's all spit in the hand that feeds us - shall we?'
As Astil was trying to make Marad see reason, Ingor Soulfire came into the room. 'What is going on?' he asked his father.
'Marad decided that, today, he is going to abandon his family and its good name, and all the privileges it comes with,' said Astil.
Ingor smiled. He had seen this scene many times before: pretty much every time the King had asked to see Marad in the last five years.
'Dad, let me talk to him - all right?' said Ingor, coming into the room and sitting on the side of Marad's bed.
Ingor and Marad were of the same age; they frequented the same school, slept in the same room and often even shared the same bed, indulging in moments of fraternal eroticism. Despite the fact that Astil and Marag were pretty easygoing parents, they were, nonetheless, quite intransigent when it came to sex. In their eyes, their children will always be children and never grow up.
Still, this did not stop Marad and Ingor from becoming extremely close. Astil knew everything - of course. After all, he had had brothers - too - and, in a big family clan like the Soulfires and Lightrays, who had not had some sort of sexual relationship with a sibling, whether natural or acquired by marriage?
So, Astil nodded and left Ingor alone with Marad, 'Don't be too long at it - son! We haven't got all day!' said the father, as he closed the door.
Ingor's soft chuckle made Marad turn around: 'What you laughing at?' asked the sleepy boy.
'I think dad has caught onto us - by now,' said Ingor with a knowing smile.
'Nah! Parents never do. They still think we are little children of five.'
'And aren't we? Behaving like that?' Ingor asked his brother.
'Of course not!' said Marad, protesting: 'I am a sixteen year old - making a point!'
'Oh! Now we are sixteen and making points!' said Ingor with a certain irony. 'Well, I cannot say that I've never done what you did this morning. Making points is something I know a bit about. I did learn, though, that in the end they win,' he added, nodding towards his father.
'Which is unfair - you must agree - surely!' said Marad sitting up, a grin lighting his face.
'In the most absolute manner,' agreed Ingor. 'However, if one were to prove to them,' he again nodded towards the door, 'how wrong they are; one should get out of bed, go to this boring meeting, do something exceptionally radical and then leave as fast as he can.'
'Ingor! You are a genius!' Marad exclaimed. 'But at the same time, if you think that your cunning pep-talk is going to trick me into coming to that meeting, you are sorely mistaken,' he added and then laid back down, covered himself with the blanket and put the pillow back over his head.
'All right - brother. Don't say I did not try with the good ones - this time,' said Ingor and then he grabbed the blanked, yanked it hard and uncovered the young Lightray. Marad, of course, was completely naked under the covers and found himself at the full mercy of his brother, who jumped astride of him and blocked his arms tightly with his thighs. Ingor, then, proceeded to tickle Marad in the parts he knew were most sensitive: on the sides of his chest - all the way up to his armpits.
Marad started laughing and squealing uncontrollably - at first - and, when he could not bear it anymore, he thought about retaliating. Still, Ingor was dressed and he was a lot less ticklish than himself.
This did not discourage the young Lightray. He had to struggle a bit but he managed to take off Ingor's shirt, this time without ripping it, and proceeded to do his best to return the tickling. When that did not make the Soulfire boy stop, he resorted to brute force - or what passed for it between them.
Marad rolled on top of Ingor and sat astride him. He started to tickle his brother but realized very soon that Ingor was not tickling him anymore. He also realized that all that horsing around had given him quite an erection and that Ingor was looking at it, as if mesmerized.
'Oops, I think we got a case of morning wood - doctor,' said Marad.
'I tend to agree with you - my dear colleague,' said Ingor, playing the game they so liked to play between them. 'The symptoms are quite evident.'
'What is your prognosis?'
'I think that, unless we do something about it now, it will only get worse,' said Ingor, caressing Marad's penis gently.
'I agree with you - doctor. Do you think it is contagious?' asked Marad, passing a hand over Ingor's crotch and feeling his erection, kept at bay only by the leggins he wore.
'I am quite sure. In fact, I think I have been infected - too,' said Ingor, his voice thickening with yearning.
Marad reached into Ingor's leggins and grabbed his engorged penis, 'Ooh, Doctor! I believe your case needs more urgent attention than mine.'
'No! I won't have it!' said Ingor in a dramatic tone. 'We need to cure each other at the same time.'
'What treatment would you recommend: manual or oral?'
'Oh, my dear colleague! In grave cases such as these, only the oral treatment gets any results,' Ingor said with a knowing look in his face.
Marad nodded back with a grin, 'I agree with you - doctor!' He turned around and uncovered his brothers generous member and promptly inserted it into his mouth. Ingor wasted no time doing the same with Marad's penis and they readily started to suck on each other.
Right as the two were really getting into it, the door opened and Marag came in: 'Hey guys!' said the man before looking up, 'Are you ready to go....?' he raised his eyes and stopped, as if frozen.
The two boys, caught in the act, stood there as if paralyzed. Marag quickly recovered from his shock and smirked knowingly.
When the boys finally realized what he had factually seen, they scrambled to cover themselves up; however, Marag raised a hand: 'I'm sorry guys; but it's a little late for that,' he told them. Ingor and Marad looked at each other a little guiltily.
'Are you going to tell Astil?' asked Marad.
'Eventually, yes, but not right now. He has too much to think about to have to worry about you two. For now, though, you will do exactly as I tell you,' said Marag, looking at the two quite seriously.
'First, you - Marad - are going to get dressed,' he began; 'then, you - Ingor - are going to come downstairs with me and help your younger brothers to finish getting dressed. And, third - both of you - better be on your best behavior at this family reunion, or I will talk to the King personally about you two - and you know what that means.'
Marad and Ingor looked at each other with chagrin thickly painted on their faces. Marag gave them one last look and them motioned to Ingor to hurry up and go downstairs. When Ingor had left, Marag gave one last pointed look at Marad and told him to hurry up.
Marad sat back on the bed. He felt like crying. He had dreams at night of marrying Ingor and leaving this house, leaving Aquileia and the palace. He even dreamt of traveling with Ingor to far away places where the two could be together without the ever-present family to tell them what to do.
Now, all these dreams would be shattered. He was sure of that. Most of the Soulfires were not like the rest of the Lightrays. They were more reserved and conservative. To them, two brothers that made love was an infringement of the rules of Nature. Marad could not understand that. His brother Beral and Erelan, Astil's younger brother, were known to be lovers. Why could he not openly love Ingor - too?
Maybe, he should go and talk to Erelan and Beral. They could advise him on what to do. The more Marad thought about this plan, the more he liked it. They could even take me with them, he thought all excited.
He got up and started to dress himself with a renewed sense of purpose. Marad Lightray was done with rules, he would live his life like he wanted to, son of the King or not.