Warnings: graphic sexual situations and overt mentionings of twincest. Is this twincest? I mean, it discusses it, but is it considered twincest or just hints of twincest? Anyway, read on.
Notes: Side story to The Art of Resistance.
The scent of beeswax filled the air, slightly sweet mixing with the smell from the vase of roses that Aíne had put in their rooms, along with sweat and the musky scent of hot male skin. Three bodies writhed on the bed, over silk sheets the same shade of crimson as the flawless, waxy petals of the roses. He was surrounded by the scent of sun and wind, grass and horses but it wasn't an unpleasant smell. No, for him, that scent always brought to mind sleekly muscled bodies, dark green eyes the colour of the finest emeralds and identically beautiful faces flushed with the exertion of their pleasure.