The Order safe house was tiny: one bedroom, one common room with a kitchen cupboard and a bathtub under the table, and an outhouse at the end of the garden. If anyone had occupied the house during the past century, Gideon would have been shocked. The house's main advantage was that Dumbledore had let Fabian and him ward it to a fare-thee-well (no Fidelius, thank you very much — there wasn't anyone in the Order he trusted with Fabian's life, not even Molly now that she'd spawned).
Well, and that it was a safe house with defensive wards, and therefore no one visited without warning. Ever. Which made it safe for a whole host of other reasons.
A grunt drew Gideon's attention away from the overcast sky and snow and ice-covered garden on the other side of the window and over to the bed where Fabian was huddled under the covers. He was taking too long to recover from that last set of hexes. Bloody Barty and his love of time-delayed spells. If it hadn't been for the shock of realising who was under that mask, they'd have caught the bastard too.
"You think too much." Sleep and potions had roughened Fabian's voice, but it still gave Gideon a warm feeling to know that his brother was recovering. He didn't know what he'd do if anything happened to him.
"Thinking's a dirty job, but one of us has to do it," Gideon said, "and you seem to have forgotten how."
"Git," Fabian said fondly. "Get back in bed before you catch your death. It's freezing out there."
After one last glance at the white world outside and another check of their ward alarms, Gideon did as he was told. Making sure to slide his cold body right up against Fabian's warm one.
"Merlin's banished left bollock." Fabian pushed him away, then pulled him back seconds later, and wrapped himself around Gideon. "What the hell were you thinking, you great big ninny? Anyone would think you were a Muggle, sitting out there with neither clothes nor Heating charms."
Shivering now that he was aware of how cold he was, Gideon snuggled in as close as he could. "I was thinking that you'd warm me up," he said. "That you'd take care of me like you always do."
Fabian pushed him over on his back and rose up on his elbows to look into Gideon's eyes. "You know I will."
Warmth flooded through Gideon. He raised a hand and stroked the skin below the new curse scar that marked Fabian's right temple and cheek. Days later, it still looked raw, and was redder than their hair. Even worse, it would likely ensure that no one ever mixed them up again. Unless I get a matching one.
"Don't even think about it," Fabian said, and he dropped a kiss on Gideon's forehead. "You've always been the pretty one, and I'll thank you to stay that way."
Not knowing any way to answer that, Gideon stuck out his tongue. Fabian promptly captured it with his mouth and sucked gently.
He's feeling better. Joy, fierce and glorious, seemed to light up the entire room. Gideon clutched Fabian tightly to him and returned his kiss.
When their kiss ended, Gideon pushed Fabian onto his back and then rolled over to lay half on his side and half on top of Fabian. He brushed Fabian's over-long fringe out of his eyes and traced the line of the scar, not quite touching it.
"They'll always know which one of us is which now," Gideon said.
"That ability's not just ours anymore," Fabian added.
"—do something about that."
"Make sure there's something we know about—"
"—but no one else does."
"We need to keep in practice with that," Gideon said. "Nothing else quite drives Mum up the wall and back down the other side like us ending each other's sentences."
"Molly, too." Fabian grinned at him. "Did you see her last week when Bill tried to join in? Her face was turning the same colour as her hair."
Gideon grinned at him. Fabian tried to return it, but the skin around his scar pulled and he winced with obvious pain instead.
"You need something for it?"
"It's fine. I just need to give it a bit more time to heal before I make crazy faces for you and the kids."
"I want something that's ours." Gideon peeked through his fringe when there was no response, but Fabian was merely studying him.
"On me," he mumbled. "Marking me."
Fabian's gaze became so intense that Gideon could feel himself blush, his face, the tips of his ears, and probably even his damned scalp and chest turning bright red. Still, he tried to explain as best he could, knowing that Fabian understood — he just wanted to hear Gideon say it aloud.
"You marking me," Gideon said. "Giving me something that no one can erase. Just like your scar."
Fabian's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Merlin, Gideon, do you have the faintest idea what you do to me?"
Gideon smiled, slowly and lasciviously. "I'm counting on it."
"Are you now?" Fabian drew him down and bit his chin. "I think you need to show me," he said, and then pushed Gideon away. "After we gather everything we need to get you good and marked."
They stumbled around the house after that, bumping into each other as they searched for the bits and pieces they needed. At one point, when Gideon had his hands full, Fabian grabbed their wands — one in each hand — and cast Warming charms on both of them.
"Show off," Gideon muttered.
In response, Fabian spun the wands, tossed them in mid-air, caught them in the opposite hands, and used them to blow him a kiss.
"I haven't the least idea why I love you."
"But you do," Fabian said, giving him a proper kiss. "And you always will."
"And so will you."
Eventually, though, the ink and quill were charmed, the house heated through, the pot of lube extracted from between the sofa cushions, and they were back to lying on the bed.
"Don't move," Fabian said, laying his head on Gideon's chest, "or you'll muck this up." At a wave of his wand, the quill dipped itself in the inkpot and poised itself above Gideon's torso.
His tongue reached out and licked Gideon's nipple. His hand slid down and his thumb teased the curve of Gideon's hipbone. He rose to his hands and knees. His tongue dragged a path downwards.
His thumb kept moving as his tongue circled Gideon's belly button and licked, licked, lapped at the skin, at the patch of precome, at the tip of Gideon's cock.
Arousal sizzled between them, curling under Gideon's skin, making him want, need.
"Fab... oh Merlin, Fab." Pressing his head back into the pillow, Gideon dug his fingers into the covers, spread his legs, and tried to stay still.
"Don't move," Fabian whispered, his breath gusting over Gideon's dampened skin, raising goosebumps, making it impossible for Gideon not to move, to thrust, to roll his hips so that his cock brushed against that taunting, teasing mouth.
"I said Don't. Move," Fabian repeated, emphasising each word with a nip and a tug on Gideon's foreskin.
"Trying," Gideon gritted the word out between his clenched teeth. Although the sound of Fabian opening the lube pot almost undid him.
"You want this, love." Fabian leaned into Gideon's side, and his slick finger touched the cleft of Gideon's arse. "And that requires you to stay... still."
Fabian's finger pushed inside, and Gideon pressed his toes into the bed. "Yes."
The quill descended until the nib rested on Gideon's skin.
"My true love hath my heart, and I have his,"
The nib scraped along Gideon's skin, looping up and down, spiralling around his belly button. The ink burned hotly, firing his nerves, sending sparks of lust, want, need through him.
" By just exchange one for another given: I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,"
Fabian thrust his finger deeper, in and out with each word, and Gideon fought not to move. Not to squirm until he could see the tiny letters and symbols being inscribed on his stomach.
" There never was a better bargain driven: My true love hath my heart, and I have his."
A second lubed finger joined the first. Filling him, stretching him. Pushing deeper and deeper until Gideon ached with the need for more and more.
" His heart in me keeps him and me in one,"
The fingers moved within him. The quill's barb brushed over his cock on the downward look, scratching and tickling. And Gideon had to shut his eyes because watching Fabian, seeing the love on his face was too much, drove him too close.
" My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides: He loves my heart, for once it was his own,"
Three fingers inside him, and he was so full. Fabian rolled Gideon's balls with his other hand and gently squeezed them. The quill stroked past Gideon's cock, banging it aside and tickling the slit with a feathery softness.
" I cherish his because in me it bides:"
Fabian's fingers crooked, rubbed over Gideon's prostate. Tingle after tingle, raced through him, gathered in his balls, at the base of his spine. He groaned, holding himself rigid against the urge to rock and thrust and undulate.
"My true love hath my heart,"
The quill wrote against Gideon's cock, up and down, up and down, as it pushed past, tangling in his pubic hair. Creating a dozen tiny pains, a hundred teasing touches, a thousand sparking nerve endings.
"and I have"
Fabian sucked a kiss on the inside of Gideon's thigh. His hand pistoned — fast, oh so very fast — his fingertips scraping past Gideon's prostate with every thrust. He took hold of Gideon's cock with his other hand. Pressure built, sound formed in the aching emptiness at the back of Gideon's throat.
The world seemed to pause, to hang on that one last word. Until the quill swirled and jabbed into Gideon's skin. Fabian twisted with one hand and tugged with the other. And Gideon cursed and bucked and came. Every pulse of release that striped his stomach hissed and flashed through him, sending another wave crashing through him.
And then it was over. The quill fell to the side. The letters sparkled with a golden light and then faded into Gideon's skin.
Fabian helped him straighten his legs, soothing the aching muscles with his hands, and pushed the covers away when his thigh ended up in the wet spot that Fabian had left.
"My heart," Gideon whispered when Fabian crawled up to lie beside him.
"Mine," Fabian whispered back.
With his head resting on Fabian's shoulder and Fabian's arms wrapped around him, Gideon fell asleep to his brother's, his lover's rhythmic breathing.