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keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: A Judicious Amount of Effort (SpicyHoneyMustard, lemon)

Summary: After a Judgement, Rus needs his lovers and protectors more than ever. Is there anything they won't do for him?

Tags: SpicyHoneyMustard, Fontcest, Fellcest, Sibling Incest, Threesome, Established Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, LEMONY GOODNESS!!

Sequel to:

Showtime

Secret Garden

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Read it on AO3

Read it here!

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It was a simple truth that patience was a learned skill. Some were born with it, the same that they were born with their magical traits or the ability to recall a song only heard once. Red could be endlessly patient when circumstances called for it, outwardly placid and if there was anything roiling within him beneath the surface, none of it ever emerged in the light of day.

Patience did not come to Edge as easily. For him it was a learned behavior and joining the guard was a good training in the art of how to wait. It would never be innate to him, but these days Edge managed well enough.

Except on Judgment days.

In the Underground, the Judgement Hall in New Home had been elegant, golden and ethereal, worthy of an avatar of the Angel. Though he’d only seen it once Edge remembered it with perfect clarity, and no wonder; that was the day he took his vows, kneeling before the previous Judge and swearing his fealty to the Angel as his brother had done only a couple years before him. That was before Rus, before he and Red were Chosen, and there were times his dreams altered the memory, set him kneeling before Rus as he looked down at him with the terrible, empty sockets of Judge to deem whether he was worthy.

On the Surface, things were markedly different. For one, rather than a Judgement Hall, it was more of a corner office in the Embassy and while Edge, having never been inside, didn’t know anything about the décor, it hardly seemed elegant for a Judging to take place around the corner from the copy machine.

Outside was a sitting area with several comfortable chairs, large enough even for the Queen, and Edge wondered sourly what the rest of the Monster community would think if they knew that those awaiting the results of a Judgement sat around in a waiting room reminiscent of a Human dentist office.

This was where Edge was currently standing, moving restlessly from one end of the room to the other, his hard-won patience strained as he waited for Rus to reemerge.

Queen Toriel was flipping through a magazine and did not look up as she said, "He may well be a while, Edge, you can sit down."

It was difficult not to pull himself to attention at a mere word from the Queen, though her standards were far more lax than the Guards. Edge did incline his head to her and said politely, "Thank you, your majesty, but if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to stand."

The Queen did look up from her magazine then. Her eyes were a deeper shade of red than his own eye lights and though she seemed ageless to most, it was the depths of her eyes that gave her away. "It is not all the same to me," she said mildly. "You hovering about is making me nervous. Now, make an old woman happy and sit. We both know it takes some time to act as Judge, Jury, and Executioner."

"He's not an executioner," Edge said shortly. Inwardly, he cringed at defying the Queen’s word, but he could not bear remaining silent. "He takes them to one HP. If that's enough for them to dust, then it's the weight of their sins that kill them, not him."

It was something he told Rus often after a Judgement, late at night in the darkness of their rooms when he woke screaming, clutching at him and Red, sobbing from the terrible memories haunting him that were not his own.

The corner of the Queen’s mouth quirked up and she nodded in acknowledgement, “You’re right, of course. I stand corrected.” She sighed heavily then and set the magazine aside, glossy paper slapping against the tabletop. “No matter how the Judgement ends, it’s difficult for him to manage after, isn’t it.”

It was not a question and Edge did not answer.

“When we were still Underground there would have been a score of Monsters in your position,” she said, sadly. "Tasked with protecting and caring for our Judge, giving him whatever he requires."

Edge stiffened, said nothing, but Toriel would not have been the leader that she was if not for her shrewdness. She chuckled a bit, retrieving her magazine and opening it to an article about easy dinner recipes as she told him, "Have no fear, I'm not considering anything that might change your arrangement and Rus certainly has no complaints. You were both Chosen and that’s the end of it. I daresay no Judge could ask for better Companions. You and your brother are very dedicated to him."

Edge only offered a curt nod. He had little interest in discussing his relationship with Rus with anyone, even or perhaps especially to the Queen.

When the previous Judge passed and Rus was Chosen, what remained of the guard were lined up for a Choosing of their own. They’d all known what the job entailed and while Edge never expected to be Chosen, he’d been ready to service the Judge as required.

He hadn’t been prepared for Rus. Couldn’t have guessed that he’d grow love him as deeply and desperately as he did, soundly rejected the idea of anyone other than himself and Red touching him. The Judge might belong to all Monsters, to the Angel and the Maker, to everyone, but Rus was theirs alone.

The door opening made them both look up as Rus stepped out. No, Edge realized, he was mistaken, it was the Judge who stood before them in incongruous mysticism next to the floral prints on the neutrally painted walls. Utterly emotionless, their voice held none of the vibrancy of Rus, the laughter that was always only a pun away. It was only the Judge who said in low monotone. "It Is Finished."

The Queen stood, but before she could speak, those empty sockets swung to Edge. If they chose, they could see into the very corners of his soul, send every sin he’d ever committed crawling up his spine, pushed him to the very edge of his sanity.

But their face only softened at the sight of him, moving over him without the weight of Judgement.

“Why are you staring at me?” Edge asked boldly. Some would say suicidally, teetering on the line of horrific disrespect.

If anything, that look only softened further, “Because We Love You.”

Then his sockets flickered, pale eye lights reforming to meet Edge's gaze. Only to immediately roll heavenward and Edge lunged forward to catch him as Rus silently folded to the ground.

The queen took a half-step forward with a sound of concern, reaching out.

"I have him," Edge said, hoisting Rus into his arms where he hung limply, his skull lolling against Edge’s shoulder.

“Take him back to his rooms,” Toriel said heavily, and ageless was not how anyone would describe her now. In this moment it seemed as if every one of her years was pressing down upon her. “I’ll handle the rest.”

Edge nodded, turning on his heel to carry Rus away. He was always so terribly light; his low HP was one of the marks of his status as Judge, as did the massive amounts of his available magic, a delicate contrast in power and frailness.

Now he felt almost weightless in Edge's arms, the only heaviness about him were the shadows beneath his sockets. The lone possible saving grace was the lack of dust on the hem of his robes. It could be the one he Judged was still alive, curled up on the floor as they wept beneath the weight of punishment, clinging to the shred of Mercy that allowed them a chance to do better.

The path to their quarters was a direct one with no access for any others. Edge followed it swiftly and the door swung open as he approached, his watchful brother waiting. The moment he walked through, it was closed again, locked and secured; the Judge was never more vulnerable than right after a Judgement.

Edge kept walking to their bedroom which also served as a saferoom. No one would be getting inside and even if they did, the Angel asked for no punishment for what Edge and Red might do in the name of the Judge.

Gently, Edge settled Rus on the bed while Red secured the last door, locks and spells settling into place as he asked, "how’s he doin’?"

"It was a bad one," Edge said gruffly. His unconsciousness was proof of that much. As carefully as he could, Edge began to strip away Rus’s robes. They were easy enough to open despite Rus’s constant complaints about getting tangled up in them. A few simple ties here and there that needed tugged and everything fell open to the bare bones beneath.

Rus shivered and Edge hastened to pull up the blankets, heavy layers of soft coziness, chosen for precisely this. Behind him, he could hear the clink of cups and water pouring, the clatter of the spoon as Red stirred in a healthy dollop of honey with the ease of long-time experience.

Rus’s sockets were fluttering as Red brought the cup over, pale eye lights pausing briefly on Edge, then searching out the one he couldn’t see as Rus tried to roll over, slurring out, “red?”

Steaming cup in hand, Red sat on the edge of the mattress, "right here, honey bear."

Rus grimaced a little, “don' like that one.”

“sorry, sweetheart,” Red smoothed a gentle hand down Rus’s skull, his cracked fingers a stark contrast to smooth, untouched bone. “i’ll hafta make a list of pet names for ya to pick through.”

“you only want to know the ones i hate so you can use them the most,” Rus accused. He almost sounded like his normal teasing self.

“you know me so well,” Red murmured, then louder. “come on, honey, sit up, you need to get somethin’ in you.”

Obediently, Rus did, sipping the tea. As he drank, the blanket slowly slipped down to pool at his pelvis, the tease of it made blatant as he asked, “what if i want something better in me?”

“oh, you are feeling better,” Red chuckled. The two of them moved closer, kneeling on either side of him as Red crooned out, “what do you need, baby?”

"make me feel good." Rus swallowed, a golden flush rising his cheek bones, but he still said, boldly, "both of you. i want both of you. inside me." The delightful mental picture of that made the unsatisfied desire still lingering in Edge’s soul from that afternoon flare hotly, eagerly.

“Whatever you say,” Edge murmured to him, low and throaty, and when the empty cup slipped from Rus’s limp hold, he caught it and set it aside.

Rus was still wobbly-weak, an easily maneuverable rag doll that Edge moved and coaxed into sitting on his lap, facing away from him with Rus straddling his femurs. Before he did anything else, Edge settled one hand to rest somewhat chastely on Rus’s iliac crests, away from the honeyed magic beginning to settle into his pelvis. With the other, he took hold of Rus’s chin, turning his head to take a sweetly charged kiss, exploring the plush magic of his mouth with a gentle tongue.

Their moans were muffled, Rus’s sudden cry caught against Edge’s teeth. Whatever his brother was doing to make the bedsprings creak and Rus squirm must be particularly effective.

An odd number of hands scrabbled for Edge’s fly in unsteady coordination as they loosened his belt, lowered his zipper. The hand that circled his cock trembled, cool, slim fingers drawing him out, guiding him to where Rus is already wet and waiting, his entrance clenching emptily as Edge nudged his way inside.

Tight, wet heat surrounded him and Edge fought for control, resisting the urge to pull Rus fiercely down on his cock, to force his hips to move, riding him relentlessly until Rus cried out, begging and pleading for more as the garbled mess of his words dissolved into incoherent cries. He’d asked for both of them and Edge would give him what he asked for, whatever Rus asked of them.

Halfway inside, Edge paused, licking his teeth and tasting his own sweat as Rus tightened briefly around him, as if his pussy was asking for more without consulting Rus about it. Instead of obliging, Edge reached between Rus’s legs to trace where they were joined. Slickness was trickling down and Edge wetted his fingers, carefully pressing one alongside his cock. The increasing tightness made him groan aloud and even though he knew very intimately otherwise, for a moment it seemed as though even his slender finger won’t fit, much less another cock. He traced the slippery lips coaxingly, persuading them to relax enough for him to push in.

In his lap, Rus sighed and squirmed, his pussy tightening and loosening infinitesimally as Edge inched his finger inside.

Only for his brother to interrupt. His varied skills at patience didn’t tend to extend to Rus and he interjected lazily, “let me, bro.”

Another finger joined his own with far less care, pushing almost roughly inside and Rus cried out, hands scrambling to clutch at Edge’s knees and Edge would have glared at Red for it if he wasn’t abruptly struggling for his own control, trying desperately not to come as Rus panted and whimpered, his pelvis moving helplessly between Edge’s cock and their moving fingers.

It was a difficult stretch, working up a bit more space inside the achingly tight passage. Honey-gold ectoflesh slowly yielding until both their fingers glided with ease.

“think that’s enough, sweetheart.” Red was panting heavily, and Edge wasn’t sure if he truly thought Rus was opened enough to take them both or if he simply couldn’t wait any longer, but Edge didn’t ask, his own limit fast approaching. He pulled out his finger with a slick, obscene sound as Red arranged himself, his bare legs settling overtop of Edge’s as he lined up and began to push in.

The sudden increase of pressure around him made Edge grit his teeth, focusing on holding Rus upright as he whimpered. Rus spread his femurs wider as if he could make more space inside himself that way while Red struggled to force his shaft inside.

There was a round of gasps as the head of his cock pried its way in, the rest of the shaft following abruptly as Red thrust in deeply, then stilled. The three of them sat together, Edge and Red petting Rus’s sweat-slick bones, struggling out soothing words as Rus trembled between them, his face screwed up in a twisted rictus of pain and pleasure. It was difficult to think with the incredible tightness squeezing his cock, the first warnings of orgasm tingling at the base of is spine, and yet, Edge tried, focusing on anything else, on the scraping pressure of his brother’s legs over his own, the prickle of sweat trailing like sins down his spine, fuck, he’d be willing to think of Toriel and her endless teasing of Rus if it helped him keep control.

His patience was well-learned, but it was straining at the end of its leash, even as the pressure surrounding him slowly eased.

“i think…i think i’m okay,” Rus finally whispered. He squirmed a bit, testing, then with almost desperate deliberateness, his pelvis rocking between them as he groaned out, “oh! oh, fuck, yes, please!”

Edge’s position was a difficult one, with Rus and Red’s weight both pinning them down. He was forced to depend on his brother moving, drawing slowly out then back in, finding a rhythm that left Rus quickly trembling on the crest of orgasm, frantic cries spilling into the air around them.

Edge was no better off. The friction of his brother's cock moving against his own was exquisite, unbearable, dragging along the length of his shaft, ridged heads briefly rubbing even as Red thrust back into Rus’s wet, clenching heat. The raggedness of his breathing was loud inside his skull and Edge could only hold on to them both, dimly unaware of whose bones he was gripping painfully as Rus’s cunt went tight around him, rippling and throbbing excruciatingly as he peaked.

He wasn’t going to last, Edge realized abruptly, it was too much, his control was slippery and lost, and he could only groan plaintively, breath hissing between his teeth as he screwed his sockets closed and came into the gloriously hot, wet grip of Rus’s pussy. Bones clattered as he was wracked with a shock of purest bliss, trying to thrust up, to get even deeper despite the weight pinning him.

“oh, fuck,” Red gasped out and even caught up as he was in overwhelming sensation, Edge dimly understood. The heat of his come filling Rus’s pussy was another layer of sensation, leaving him drenched and loosened as Edge’s shaft softened inside him even as Red moved brutally faster.

Barely, he had enough coherence left to fumble a hand between Rus’s spread femurs, feeling down between his legs for the swollen nub of his clit to circle with his thumb. Rus quivered in his arms and he felt back further, careless fingers exploring where Red was still frantically thrusting. A mischievous urge struck him, and Edge circled the base of the shaft with his thumb and forefinger, gripping hard. Immediately, his brother cursed explosively, and Edge felt it both from the inside and out as Red pushed in deeply and held, the blossoming heat of his come spurting thickly against Edge’s shaft making him hiss.

Between them, Rus was sobbing, pleading as he struggled to reach another crest. Red reached for his clit even as Edge guiltily redoubled his efforts, their slippery fingers moving in tandem, exhausted and knowing. It was enough. Rus’s fingers dug into Edge’s femurs painfully, scraping bone even through trousers as his pussy throbbed, tightening almost painfully around overstimulated ectoflesh as he tipped over in a last orgasm.

He slumped almost immediately, held up only by Edge and Red’s arms, barely sighing as they both carefully withdrew and settled him to lay back on the sheets. There were soft cloths on the side table and a bowl of water set into a warmer. Between them, they cleaned the mess from Rus’s bones, tenderly wiping away sweat and the kaleidoscope spatter of their mingled fluids.

Edge thought he was already asleep, any lingering sign of the Judge clinging to him fucked away, and it was only when Rus spoke that he realized otherwise, his voice small and uncertain.

“if i asked you two to kiss, would you?”

The question made Edge still, setting the damp cloth aside as he looked into Rus’s blushing face. His sockets were scrunched deliberately closed, refusing to open even as Edge gently stroked his brow and cheek bones.

He looked at his brother instead, sitting on Rus’s other side. His expression was cool and unreadable, offering him nothing.

“Is that what you want?” Edge asked neutrally. He would, if Rus wished it. He had no particular objection to it; they’d known from the start what this involved. The awkwardness surrounding it had long since faded and truth be told, he loved to watch Red with Rus as he pleasured him with tongue and cock, and knew the sentiment was one Red returned. Sharing Rus was a unique delight, in every form of the word. But while touching each other was perfectly acceptable, neither was it something they usually sought without Rus between them.

“no,” Rus said hurriedly, though it was still too small, too soft. “i only wondered—"

“honey love,” Red interrupted, “i love my bro, but it ain’t the same way as you. i wanna see him fucking you, don’t really want that so much for myself.” Confirming Red felt as he did. Then he surprised Edge by saying. “but i think we can manage a kiss if you want that for your spank bank.”

Rus swallowed audibly, his sockets creeping open. He was obviously wavering between his hopeful wants and his fears that he was asking for something that they didn’t truly want to give. They’d given vows to provide him with whatever he wished, to meet all of his desires, and that was exactly what Rus did not want from them. That truth was only one of many that left Edge helpless against loving him.

He threaded his fingers through Rus’s, bringing their entwined hands up to his mouth to gently kiss his knuckles reassuringly, trying without words to tell him that this wasn’t too much to ask.

Rus still wavered, blinking too hard and too often, before finally giving in, whispering out, “please?”

Anything for you, Edge did not say. He turned to his brother, who was kneeling bare bones on Rus’s other side, his compact frame deliberately relaxed and revealing nothing of the coiled strength held within it. His razor-toothed mouth was quirked in a knowing smile, sockets hooded, and he didn’t move a single inch, forcing Edge to lean in and duck his head to kiss him.

Navigating both their sharp teeth was something of a challenge, but one easily managed, tongues gliding cautiously against each other. His brother tasted of Rus, cloyingly sweet, and beneath it, the earthier spice of his own magic surfaced like a taunt. Almost, Edge wanted to chase that taste, to delve into his brother’s mouth and find more, untainted by Rus’s sweetness.

He resisted the urge. This was for Rus, their Rus, he was watching, and Edge only lingered briefly, boldly sweeping his tongue over Red’s to steal a last discreet taste before drawing away. Their eye lights met in a brief glance before hurrying back to Rus.

Edge cleared his throat, “Was that what you wanted?”

“yeah,” Rus breathed, staring with greedily wide sockets. He blinked, sheepishness flitting across his face, “and if i wasn’t so tired, i’d ask for a kiss of my own.”

Red chuckled and leaned in, brushing his mouth over Rus’s and lingering when his teeth parted. Edge did not wonder if his brother tasted of him, only watched until they reluctantly parted, Red murmuring, “take a nap, butter bear, and when ya wake up, we’ll kiss ya wherever ya want.”

“what does butter bear even mean?” Rus mumbled, but the words were split by an enormous yawn. He reached out for them, hands limply hopeful and they both settled on either side of him, arms settling in a loose tangle as they held him close.

Soon, he slept, his breathing slow and even. Edge lay next to him, awake, and knew his brother was as well, curled up against Rus’s other side. They’d sleep later, when Rus was rested and less vulnerable. He could only hope that there would be no nightmares this time, a tenuous wish for peaceful sleep for his love.

But as he lay there in the dark, Edge couldn’t help wondering what other things Rus might like to see, if he were bold enough to ask.

-fin

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#fontcest #keelywolfe #underfell papyrus #underfell sans #underswap papyrus #underswap #underfell #lemony goodness #papcest #spicyhoney #honeymustard #spicyhoneymustard #bodyguard au

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