brigdh

Title: Four Moments the Sands of Time Didn't Erase (and One It Did)
Author: Brigdh
Rating/Warnings: NC-17. Incest.
Pairings: Dastan/Tus, Dastan/Tamina, Tamina/Tus, Dastan/Tus/Tamina
Summary: Dastan, Tus, and Tamina spend time together, before and after the events of the movie.
Notes: More stuff I forgot to post to LJ. The dangers of always leaving the country a week after Yuletide. This one was written for Yuletide 2010.
Does anyone even remember this movie? It was pretty terrible, actually, but that did not prevent me from writing porn about it.

Four Moments the Sands of Time Didn't Erase (and One It Did)

1.
Dastan was covered in grit and sweat, his right arm bloody from a shallow cut, eyes red from smoke and exhaustion, and he was laughing. Seeing him, Tus couldn't help but laugh too. The battle had been long and difficult and many men had died, but it was over; they had won. Tus felt reckless, invincible; he was filled with the joy that victory always gave him. Seeing his brother, still alive, silhouetted in the door of Tus's tent, was part of that fierce pleasure.

"Brother," he called, raising an arm.

Dastan grinned in response, the brilliant, unabashed street-kid smile he'd never lost, and entered, letting the tent flap drop closed behind him. He caught up Tus's wineskin from the table and poured a stream into his mouth, getting more wine on his face and neck than down his throat. He swallowed and wiped the back of his hand across his lips, just smearing more dirt onto his face. "Did you see me, Tus? I had three-"

"I heard! You were excellent." Tus talked over Dustan, both of them too excited to listen. "But my spear, I must have thrown it twenty-"

"No, listen, I fought this one man, I swear he was a giant-"

"-right into his horse and he-"

"-and he had a sword like I've never seen, I couldn't even lift it-"

Tus laughed again and slapped Dustan on the back of his head. "There's no use talking to you like this."

"Me?" Dustan shoved him and Tus tripped, pulling Dustan down with him. The two of them rolled across the carpets on the floor of Tus's tent, fighting to be on top. Dustan won out momentarily, holding Tus down with an elbow across his throat. "You're the one who can't listen to a story."

Tus flipped them. Dustan struggled beneath him, but his eyes were bright and he was grinning like a madman. Tus was breathing hard, his pulse fast in his veins; it felt like the battle, but better. He kissed Dustan, who tasted like wine and sweat and dirt, like war. His brother surged up under him, hooked an arm around Tus's neck, and pulled him close.

2.
Dustan watched Tamina- his wife now, though it was still strange to think of her that way. She was friendlier than when he first met her, softer, almost. He supposed that was what she had been like all along, before her sanctuary had been invaded and she had been forced to fight for her life and the dagger.

She was still Tamina, though, still had the spark that had attracted him in the first place. She was wearing white, as she so often did, and the color made her eyes and hair look even darker than they already were. Her skin glowed against the pale fabric. She was beautiful, and he loved her. He just had to convince her of that.

She was watching him too, studying him with careful eyes. She had been open to this political marriage, but she was still cautious, slow to trust him. Dustan wished he could go back to the connection they'd had in that other time. He remembered kissing her, standing in a pool of water, her skin cool under his hands and her mouth warm. He remembered her in the middle of a sandstorm, her brown eyes almost black in the dim light, her fingers touching his. He remembered her confident smile, her amused, arrogant voice as she said Only because you're so good at following orders.

They were alone now, in their rooms that Dustan still didn't know, and Tamina was watching him like a stranger. On a wild impulse, Dustan knelt at her feet, took her hand. "Tell me how to prove myself to you, princess. I'd do anything."

He'd surprised her, at least. For a moment she just stared at him, but then she started to smile. "Anything?"

He recognized that tone. He was already starting to regret this decision, but the Lion of Persia did not back down from an unarmed woman. "Anything," he said, swallowing.

The ways of Alamut were very different from those of Persia. Dustan felt certain of that. But with Tamina's fingers inside of him, pressing, curling, and her face above him tight with pleasure, he found it hard to care much about the differences.

3.
"My brother is a lucky man, you know."

Tamina looked up. The Crown Prince of Persia, Tus, was lurking in the doorway to her study. He was a tall man, and broad; a warrior, but with a boy's charm. "Is he?" she said, coolly.

"The beauty of the princess of Alamut is spoken of far and wide. But the reality, Lady Tamina, outstrips the rumors."

Tamina lifted an eyebrow. "Do you expect me to fall for such outrageous flattery?"

Tus threw back his head and laughed. In his amusement, he seemed like a different man, one without the pressure of ruling. "You can't blame a man for trying," he said.

"I think I can," she said, rising from her desk.

He caught her arm. "Wait, wait." She spun quickly, glaring, and he let go of her, raising his hands in a peace gesture, though he was still smiling. "No offense meant."

"What do you want?"

"My brother is very fond of you." Tus paused. Tamina crossed her arms and waited. "But, well, you are his first wife. There are some things a man learns only with experience."

"Such as?"

Tus took a step toward her. He was close enough that Tamina could feel his warmth, see the crinkles at the corner of his eyes when his smile grew. "I couldn't say," he said, his voice low and deep. He bent his head to the side, speaking into her ear, so that she felt his breath stir her hair. "I'd have to show you."

Tamina pulled back, just enough to meet his eyes. There was a challenge in them, as though he were testing her, daring her, to take him up on the offer. She felt an answering passion stir inside her, and she lifted her chin. "Go ahead then," she said.

Tus set his hands on her waist; they were large hands, and warm. She could feel them through her robes. He kissed her, thoroughly, so that she brought her hands up and clenched them in his hair, in its thick, golden curls. He smelled of myrrh, and metal; rich smells.

He pressed against her so that she took a step back, and then again, until she felt her desk hit the back of her thighs. Tus's hands tightened around her waist and he lifted her, setting her on the table. She broke the kiss, wanting to catch her breath.

Tus was looking at her, pleased as the cat that caught the canary. "Dastan knows how to kiss," Tamina said, trying to wipe the smirk off of his face.

"I would hope he does." Tus leaned in and licked a wide stripe up the side of her neck. His tongue was hot, and wet, and Tamina could barely repress a shiver. Her legs spread, just slightly. "But has he done this for you?"

Tus's hands were on her thighs, his thumbs just below the crease where her legs met. Still, he took his time, kissing what felt like every inch of skin on her torso. He mapped her body, discovering the places where she was most sensitive, and taking advantage of them. He licked her nipples until they were hard, then took them gently between his teeth, bringing gasps from Tamina's mouth. He took so long that she was panting and writhing her hips on the desk before he'd even lifted her skirts.

When he finally did, she could only squeeze her eyes shut, thinking of nothing but his mouth on the inside of her knee, then high on her thigh where the skin was soft and sensitive, and then, at last, where she most needed it. His tongue lapped against her, soft rough pressure again and again until she heard a keening noise and realized it was her own voice.

Afterward, when she'd recovered a bit, found herself sweat-covered and rumpled, sprawled across her desk, with Tus grinning at her, if possible, even more smugly than before, she struggled to find a way to respond. "Well," she said, "if Dastan doesn't know that, we'll have to teach him."

4.
Dastan was flat on his back, with Tamina on him, enveloping him. She moved, rising up and sinking down, and it was nearly all he could do to rest his hands on her hips and thrust up to meet her. Tus was watching them, a hand on his own cock, stroking lazily against Tamina's frantic rhythm. Between the two of them, Dastan thought he might be torn apart.

Tus lifted his free hand and carded his fingers through Tamina's hair; let it fall like black rain. He touched her cheek and she turned her face toward him, her full lips on his fingers. Dastan felt her slim legs around him, the muscles in her thighs working as she moved. Tus's hand was on her breast when she came, tossing her head back and crying out. Dastan felt her tighten around him, and that pulled him over the edge as well, a moment of perfect oblivion.

When he opened his eyes again, Tamina was leaning over to Tus, kissing him, his free hand cupping the back of her head. The early morning light was pure and bright, painting them in warm, living colors, turning the white sheets of the bed to ivory. Watching Tamina and Tus, Dastan felt something like wonder. Tamina's hand met Tus's on his cock, her long fingers wrapping around his blunt, sun-darkened ones. She turned to look at Dastan, and her smile was like the dawn, almost too bright to look at.

Tus came with a sharp grunt, and Tamina laughed, her voice breathy, and curled her body to slip between the two brothers. Dastan rolled over to drape an arm across her waist. He ran his fingers over its soft skin, the curves where her hips swelled out of the flat plane of her stomach. She smelled of incense, her hair still holding the holy smoke from her prayers yesterday. On her other side, Tus propped himself up on one elbow, laying a possessive hand on Tamina's thigh.

"A fine wife you've found for yourself, Dastan."

"Oh?" Dastan grinned at him across Tamina. "Well, if you think so, maybe I'll keep her-"

Tamina slapped his shoulder. "You keep me? You arrogant Persians-"

Tus was shaking with laughter, and Dastan was hard pressed not to laugh himself as he caught Tamina's hands, stretching them over her head. "It's two against one, Princess. I'd be careful what you say."

She kept an angry expression on her face, but Dastan could see the amusement in her eyes. "It would take two of you to tame me."

"Should we test that?" Dastan said, pressing close to her, feeling the heat of her body all along his side. He looked up and caught Tus's expression, his brother still laughing, hair mussed from sleep and sex, but eyes alert. Tus's hand crept higher on Tamina's leg, stroking the inner thigh where she was so sensitive.

Tamina frowned at him for a moment more, and then she broke out in laughter too, lifting her face to Dustan for a kiss.

(and one)
In another time, Dastan kneels next to Tus's body, still warm, the blood still liquid and red, but the eyes already blank. His brother's hair spilled across the floor like gold shavings, but they were worthless now, empty of life. His brother's hand still reached for his throat, as though he could hold his life in, but there was no strength in the fingers now.

In another time, Dastan watches as Tamina pulls her hand from his, her slim wrist sliding through his fingers for the last time. Her robes flutter around her as she falls, almost like wings, but they can't lift her. He has to look away before she disappears, and he never hears her hit the bottom, so somewhere in his mind she is still falling.

Dastan never tells either of them these things. He is afraid that to speak of them would make those moments real, would call them back into existence. So he tries to forget, tries to erase the memories like sand over footprints, and thinks instead of what he has now, the love of his brothers and Tamina, the easy comfort of their living bodies.

***