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Title: Two Princes: A Fractured Fairytale
Author: victoria p. [victoria @]
Summary: She has never imagined a charming prince for herself, and she hasn't got one. Instead, she has two brothers in her bed.
Rating: Adult
Pairing: Jacob/Will/Angelika
Fandom: The Brothers Grimm
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Archive: Achromatic.
Feedback: would be awesome.
Notes: Thanks to devildoll for the beta and girlinthetrilby for the handholding. All seperis's fault. And it's not like they didn't go there in the movie. Er, if you don't know, Jacob and Will are brothers. Consider that your warning.
Word count: 1,191
Date: September 7, 2005


Two Princes: A Fractured Fairytale

Angelika already knows the stories Jacob tells her, but she listens as though she hasn't lived through one herself, and it pleases Jacob that she does. But the stories are nothing like reality. They all know it. She is not a shrinking violet, a soft princess raised in a tower, and Jacob is no knight in shining armor, with his spindly limbs and his faraway eyes. Will is certainly a rogue of the first order, though, a trickster willing to take a maiden's virtue or a handful of gold in the blink of an eye, with nary a thought to the consequences, but he is neither evil nor particularly magical. Even after all he's seen, he professes to believe in none of it, waving it off as charlatans' tricks -- "The kind of thing Jake and I perfected," he says with a careless wave of his hand, as if that settles the matter.

She has never imagined a charming prince for herself, and she hasn't got one. Instead, she has two brothers in her bed. It should feel strange (wicked, wrong) but instead it feels beautiful (wanton, wonderful), though she knows the villagers would run her out of town if they discovered what truly goes on in her bed at night, when she sends her sisters to stay with their friends.

Will is all business, hands and tongue moving over her body in ways that should scandalize her, but leave her breathless and wanting more. She never believes Will truly loves her, despite his quick and facile words. She is sure he's said the same things to a dozen other women, and never meant them once. Jacob is slower, gentler -- he woos her with words of love and hazy-eyed gazes she could drown in, plies her with slow, deep kisses that set her blood alight, make her quim wet and aching for his fingers, his cock.

They come to her separately at first, as if they are keeping secrets from each other, and sometimes she thinks Jacob is ashamed -- there is something in his eyes she cannot fathom, though he is usually as clear as glass, as easy to read as one of his stories.

They are different when they are together with her -- Will is slower, gentler, Jacob freer, less nervous, more willing to laugh and try different things. They move inside her until she is weak and shaking with pleasure, and she sleeps, pressed between them, deep and dreamless.

She wakes early one cold morning and heads out to feed the chickens, the sky pregnant with heavy iron clouds, promising the first snow of the season. The rooster has escaped the henhouse again, and she spends a few moments chasing him in the chill dawn air. The girls will remain in the village today, she thinks, and she and Will and Jacob can take their time and explore each other more fully in the grey light of day. She returns to the house, shivering from cold and anticipation, and sheds her clogs and cloak.

She can hear the bed creaking, and mumbled, muffled words, sleepers waking warm and soft on a cold winter's morning, but what she sees stops her in shock at the bedroom door.

Will kneels between Jacob's legs, mouth wrapped around Jacob's cock, hands so tight on Jacob's hips that the skin haloes red around them. Jacob has one hand tangled in Will's hair; his other arm covers his mouth, muffling the sounds that escape. His eyes are closed tight and his head tipped back against the pillows, exposing the long curve of his throat.

Will slides his lips down the shaft of Jacob's cock, as far as he can, and Jacob, in the throes of his release, drops his arm to curls his fingers in the sheets, uttering a hoarse, inarticulate cry, his other hand tightening in Will's hair. Will swallows until Jacob's shuddering is done, then lets his softening cock slip from his mouth. He presses gentle kisses along the insides of Jacob's thighs, to the sensitive skin beneath his balls, pink tongue sliding along the skin there.

"Will, please," Jacob says, between gasping breaths. "We don't have time."

Will looks up; the wicked grin on his face is familiar, but the warmth in his eyes is not. It is, she realizes, for Jacob only. He reaches back, curls his fingers around Jacob's ankles, and folds Jacob's long, pale legs almost to his chest, pushing them wide and settling between them.

"Don't worry, Jake." Will is his usual confident self, letting go of Jacob's legs to reach for the jar of oil she keeps in the night table drawer. She leans against the doorjamb, unnoticed, as Will, with ease that speaks of long practice, slicks his cock and Jacob's hole, holding herself still and willing them not to notice her. "She won't be back for a bit. The cock's loose again." He laughs at his own joke and Jacob groans, rolling his eyes.

Will finishes with the oil, and after a few businesslike thrusts of his fingers, he pushes his cock oh-so-slowly into Jacob's arse, his face a mask of concentration, his body sheened with sweat. Jacob's spent prick twitches in response as Will fucks him, and Angelika fights the urge to touch herself, the hot wet pulse pounding between her thighs a silent, demanding counterpoint to the rhythm of Will's strokes.

"Will," Jacob pleads, wrapping long, ink-stained fingers, so familiar against her skin, around his cock and stroking.

"Come on, Jake," Will urges him, voice hoarse and demanding. "Come on."

Jacob's hand stills. "You first," he manages in a huff of breathless laughter.

Will flashes that wicked smile. "If you insist." He speeds his pace, rhythm lost as he shudders and comes with a harsh groan. Jacob watches him wide-eyed, one hand curled around his own prick, the other reaching up to grip Will's forearm as he comes himself, white and thick over their bellies and thighs.

Will collapses atop Jacob, both of them breathing heavily, and rains soft kisses on his face and hair, mumbling words too faint for Angelika to understand, though she is nearly close enough to touch them.

Jacob, as he always does after love, falls into a contented sleep when Will rolls away from him after a last, fierce kiss, not even bothering to clean themselves up.

She is frozen to the spot, body still aching for touch, for completion, when Will looks up and meets her gaze. He doesn't seem surprised or shamed to see her there-- his jaw is set and there is a challenge in his eyes. She realizes he wanted her to see, to know, that he is sharing Jacob with her, not the other way around.

She nods once in acknowledgement of his prior claim, and his determined look softens into a smile, and he makes her welcome in their bed.

No, their life isn't like a fairy story, she reflects, nestling down next to Will, who curls protectively around Jacob, but as she slips a hand between her legs to pleasure herself, she thinks she can be content with this kind of happy ending.



Hey, feedback would be great, if anyone else has actually seen the movie. *snerk*

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