DISCLAIMER:
The characters belong to Studios USA and Renaissance Pictures and were used without permission. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made.

WARNING:
This story contains explicit descriptions of male/male sexual relations, bdsm and incest. Please skip the story if these subjects disturb you.

You can find more stories by MB at her site Millefiori by MB

Send feedback to millefiori@mail.com

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Just Like Old Times
by MB
December 1999

Joxer woke from an extremely erotic dream about his brother, heart hammering, to find himself with wet pants and a wet blanket. He sighed. It had been a while since he had dreamed of Jett. It must have been hearing about him when they passed through that village yesterday. When the merchant asked if he wasn't the same guy who was here a couple of days ago, 'not dressed like you, though!' It could only be Jett; although the gods knew that Jace dressed pretty differently too! No, Jace wouldn't be in a village like that one. It was Jett, and the close proximity couldn't be a coincidence. His brother was looking for him. Joxer felt an old, familiar thrill at the thought.

Joxer wanted to be alone when Jett found him so he'd met back up with Xena and Gabrielle and during dinner told them that he was going off to travel by himself for a while. Now he was doubly grateful he'd spent the night apart from them as he contemplated the mess in his bed. The blanket wasn't too bad. It wouldn't really need to be washed. The pants, on the other hand, did need washing now. He changed into his other pair and began to collect his things. It was getting cold at night and the morning hadn't begun to warm up yet. Joxer shivered under his loose wool poncho as he wondered what to do next. He had a few dinars tucked away in his pack and he decided to head back to the village. He could get a meal and someplace warm to sleep there, and it would be easier for Jett to find him. What would it be like to be alone with him again? It had been a while, but Joxer had a feeling that some things would never change. He began to walk back toward the village through the morning fog.

They had stopped in a small clearing near a stream yesterday, and Joxer found the place easily. He drank deeply of the cold, clear water and rinsed out his pants. Memories from years past kept coming to him, things he hadn't thought of in a long time. The first time he'd been with Jett - his first time with anyone....

Joxer's father had been on a rampage, and Joxer was in harm's way. Just coming out of a growth spurt, he was not yet used to his new, longer legs and larger feet. Oblivious of his father's mood, and impatient to be somewhere or other, he had tripped and crashed to the ground. Before he could even lift himself from the floor, his father had snatched him up by the back of his shirt and dragged him into a nearby bedchamber. By the time the man was finished venting his rage, Joxer was a mess.

The door slammed as his father left the room. Joxer lay on the bed trying to muffle his sobs in the blankets he was clutching to his face. He didn't hear the door quietly open, or the click as the key turned the lock; he didn't realize he wasn't alone until the bed dipped when someone sat beside him. He jerked his head up in surprise and saw Jett, gazing at his body with an unpleasant expression on his face. Joxer dropped his face back into the blankets and Jett rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

"He shouldn't have done this." Jett's voice was soft and low. "A warlord should have more control. This is a disaster, no finesse, no control. You're going to have bruises everywhere. A whipping should be to good purpose, not to just release mindless anger. When I whip you, you'll see the difference." Joxer was mesmerized by Jett's quiet voice, the gentle, soothing hand that continued to rub his shoulder. Finally the words sank in.

"What?" Joxer raised his head again and looked at his twin in disbelief. "What are you talking about, good purpose? I fell down! Does that warrant a whipping like this? And what do you mean 'when I whip you?' Jett, what are..." Joxer's voice faded as he looked at his brother in fascination. Jett was staring off into space, obviously not listening. Joxer had never seen an expression like that on Jett's face, and Joxer could now see why so many people feared him.

"Don't worry Jox, he won't do this to you again." Jett looked at him then and the expression was gone, replaced by calm compassion. "Here, let me take care of you." Joxer lay unresisting as Jett removed his shoes, and the pants that were bunched around his ankles. He raised up a little so Jett could pull his shirt over his head. He felt like his ass was on fire and he slumped back down on his stomach, burying his face in the blanket again. He didn't look up when Jett got back, but registered that instead of sitting his brother was now lying beside him. A light blanket settled over them both and Joxer hissed as it touched his injured skin.

"C'mere, Jox." Jett gathered him in his arms. Joxer rested his head on Jett's shoulder and threw an arm over his chest. They were quiet for a while, Joxer occasionally sniffling and Jett continuing to lightly rub his brother's shoulder.

Then Jett spoke. "Are you still a virgin, Jox?"

Joxer frowned. "You know I am." Where had that come from?

"Do you want to be?" Jett's voice was casual, as if they were discussing the weather. Joxer suddenly registered that Jett had removed his clothes before he joined him in the bed, and that the skin to skin contact they now shared felt good, better than just comforting.

"What are you thinking?" Joxer asked nervously.

"You know exactly what I'm thinking," Jett replied in an amused voice. He was right. Joxer did know exactly what he was thinking. It had always been that way. Each knew how the other thought and sometimes all it took for them to communicate was an expression or a word.

"Are you?" Joxer's voice was barely audible. "A virgin, I mean?"

"No," Jett paused. "Want me to teach you what I've learned?" The stroking hand moved from his shoulder to his neck, the touch no longer comforting, but sensual. Joxer felt a surge of excitement and thought he wanted that very much. Jett's hand moved to his chin, lifting his face. Then Jett was kissing him. Joxer had stolen a few kisses with Lydia, the tutor's daughter, but he had never experienced anything like what Jett was doing to him. After a moment of shocked stillness, Joxer hesitantly responded, copying what Jett was doing with his lips and teeth and tongue, participating in the kiss with growing enthusiasm. They finally parted breathlessly and Joxer found himself craving more of the scent of Jett's breath, the taste of his mouth.

"So far, so good?" Jett asked.

Joxer nodded mutely, mesmerized by Jett's burning eyes and wolfish smile. And then they were kissing again, and Jett moved to bring their bodies into full contact. Joxer moaned at the meeting of twin erections, gasped at Jett's hands on his swollen, tender buttocks.

"Roll onto your back." Jett gently pushed Joxer's shoulder and he gingerly moved onto his back. Jett caressed Joxer's chest, tweaking his nipples, moving down to circle his navel, finally grasping the straining, engorged cock and lightly stroking. Joxer's body jerked at the sensation. It never felt like this when he touched himself. He closed his eyes and moaned with pleasure. Then he cried out and his eyes flew open at the touch of a tongue. Jett was watching him, waiting for his response and he smiled at Joxer when their eyes met. Then he took Joxer into his mouth, sucking and licking, moving in concert with his hand. Joxer thought he was going to die, he'd never felt anything like this and wanted it to go on forever. But it wasn't long before pleasure rocketed through his body, exploding from his cock. Jett lifted his head in time to watch: the involuntary thrust of hips, the shudders, the hot semen spurting. Jett absently wiped a stray bit of semen from his chin, then licked it off his fingers as he waited patiently for Joxer to drift back to earth.

Joxer slowly opened his eyes. "Wow," he mumbled with awe.

Jett smiled. "Roll over." Joxer wordlessly complied. "Raise up on your knees, we're not finished yet." His voice was a seductive purr and Joxer shivered at the sound. Jett parted Joxer's buttocks with one hand, while slipping a finger from the other, slick with semen and saliva, inside the tightly puckered opening.

"What are you doing?" Joxer gasped.

"Teaching you new things." Jett said. "It feels good, doesn't it, Jox?" Jett continued his ministrations, and Joxer almost involuntary moved to increase the contact. Jett lightly stroked the back of Joxer's thighs, cupped his balls. "Just relax," he whispered.

"What - what are you going to do now?" Joxer's voice was muffled by the blanket.

Jett laughed. "Oh Jox, I think you know. Do you want me to stop?"

"Would you stop if I asked?" Joxer asked hesitantly. Jett reached around to Joxer's cock, already mostly hard, and stroked it in time with his thrusting fingers for a moment.

"No. But you don't want me to stop, do you?"

Joxer moaned at the sensations Jett's touch was producing. "No," he whispered. "Don't stop."

Jett released Joxer's cock and knelt up behind him, pressing against the tight entrance. "Jox, relax," he instructed. Jett slowly pushed forward, waiting for the tightness to ease, and then pushed forward a bit more. He slowly continued advancing, waiting for Joxer to adjust, and then moving again, until he was fully sheathed. Jett breathed heavily, his hands clenching on Joxer's hips.

"Are you okay, Jox? Just relax and it'll be okay." Jett's hoarse voice was soothing to Joxer and he forced himself to relax. It hurt, but it wasn't unbearable. Then Jett withdrew, and slowly thrust himself in again, and Joxer felt a jolt of pleasure. It was incredible, he had never felt anything like this before, never knew such feelings were even possible. He was unable to distinguish between the sounds coming from Jett and sounds he was making as pleasure raced through his body. And finally, when Jett reached around to grasp his straining cock, Joxer nearly howled. The orgasm was so intense, so overwhelming that he blacked out, coming to awareness again to find himself curled warm beneath the blankets, his brother spooned tightly behind him.

Joxer smiled as he realized he was hard. It had been a while, but that hadn't changed. It had always been that way; whenever he thought about Jett, about the room in the old dungeon they had made their own, about all their little toys, his body had a predictable reaction. His relationship with his twin was strange, it was twisted, but it had led to some of the most exciting experiences of Joxer's life. He sighed, adjusted his suddenly too-tight pants, and tried to think of something else. He really needed to get back on the road.

"Hi Jox." The voice came from the edge of the clearing; it was Jett.

Joxer startled, then a slow, wide smile appeared and then they were embracing, laughing, falling easily into their old way of talking. To an outsider it would have been a disjointed, incomprehensible jumble of words, but the brothers understood each other perfectly. It was almost as if they had never been apart. Joxer had forgotten how comfortable he could feel with Jett. His brother had always been protective of him. Of all his family, friends and acquaintances, Jett was the only one who truly understood Joxer, and actually seemed to like him just as he was, why Joxer wasn't quite sure, but he knew it to be so.

"Let's head back to the village. I have a room at the inn." Jett looked critically at the sky. "It looks like a storm's coming."

Joxer nodded and gathered his pack together and they headed back toward town, side by side. They walked quietly for a while in a companionable silence. Joxer wondered at himself, at his ability to be so relaxed and happy with someone he knew to be a killer, knew to be insane, but he could find no answer, nor could his thoughts dampen his pleasure at being in Jett's company again. He shook his head and wondered at his own sanity. Oh well, he was a warrior, he too could be a killer. But he was on the side of right, fighting for the innocent and helpless. His mind continued to skitter around the problem. Suddenly he was aware of his brother's eyes on him. He looked over to find Jett smirking at him and flushed.

"What are you thinking about, Jox?" Jett's face had softened and Joxer wondered if his twin had somehow mellowed since he'd seen him last.

"Uhm, I was just thinking about - uhm, you know - stuff," he finished lamely.

"Oh - stuff." Jett nodded wisely. Joxer blushed a little more and found something very interesting to look at on his boots. He startled at Jett's hand on his shoulder. Jett was smiling at him, a real smile and the hand on his shoulder was easy. "We can talk about stuff over dinner." His voice had lowered, was almost seductive and Joxer shivered, suddenly remembering that Jett said he had a room at the inn. A room they would be sharing. He wondered what else would they share tonight. Whatever it was, Joxer knew he wouldn't protest. He never had. If Jett wanted it, Joxer wanted it too. He shivered again and met Jett's knowing eyes. A rumble of thunder in the distance broke the spell and they began to move a little faster, hoping to beat the rain to the inn.

Jett tipped the pitcher, pouring the last of the wine into Joxer's goblet, then held the empty pitcher up catching the eye of the barmaid. Joxer was feeling warm and muzzy from the good dinner and the wine he'd had.

"Dad was so proud when we heard you'd become an assassin." Joxer frowned slightly.

"The King of Assassins." Jett met his brother's frown with one of his own. "Don't go getting all righteous on me, Jox. You know the people who hire me are determined. If it isn't me who gets the job it would just be someone else. And I'm good, minimal pain and suffering. In fact, I get at least half of them in their sleep - they never even know it's coming." He was obviously proud of himself.

"You? Minimal pain and suffering?" Joxer snorted in disbelief.

"That's right," Jett replied huffily. "Never mix business and pleasure. It's messy." His expression suddenly turned thoughtful. "Speaking of pleasure, Dad never hit you again after I left, did he?"

"No." Joxer was confused. Where had that come from? "He never hit me again after that time." Jett knew which time he referred to.

"Good." Jett nodded with satisfaction. The crazy look in his eyes seemed to intensify a notch while Joxer's narrowed suspiciously.

"Did you have something to do with that?" Joxer asked slowly, not knowing how he could have, but nonetheless convinced that he did. "What - how - what did you do?"

Jett laughed out loud at his expression. "I didn't do anything. Well," he allowed, "I did ask for a little help..." He laughed again. "Joxer, you should see your face!"

"You've got to tell me," Joxer couldn't stand it, he had to know what had happened. He thought back to the times that his father had obviously been furious, times when he'd been sure he would be beaten as he'd been in the past, but instead of the expected blows his father had just glared at him and stormed away. All those times he'd just thanked Ares for the reprieve and made himself scarce.

Jett leaned back and took a swallow of wine, seemingly enjoying his brother's torment. "Okay, I'll tell you what happened," he relented. "Do you remember that night, I told you that he wouldn't whip you again?"

"Yeah," Joxer breathed.

"Well, the next morning I went to the temple. And then Dad got a little visit. And a warning to keep his hands off what didn't belong to him." Jett smiled and his eyes lost focus as he remembered.

Joxer was confused. "Ares' temple?"

"No." Jett shook his head. "Strife's temple."

"But - I don't belong to Strife..." Joxer was even more confused.

Jett laughed again. "When Strife found out what I wanted, he insisted on calling Ares. Oh, I wish you could have been there, Jox," he said eagerly. "Strife and I were invisible, but Ares took us with him so we got to see it all. Ares was so pissed when he found out how Dad had been beating you. And Dad almost shit when he realized what was going on." Jett cracked up again, unable to continue the story for laughing so hard.

Joxer wondered how much wine he'd had, and what besides wine might have been in it. He couldn't believe this, wondered wildly if Jett were making it all up to tease him. But the fact remained that his father had never touched him again after that time, so something had happened. He stared at Jett, impatiently willing him to stop laughing and finish the story.

"Okay, sorry." Jett wiped tears from his eyes and continued. "Anyway, Ares appears and Dad drops to his knees and Ares starts out talking all soft about how much he appreciates his worshippers, especially one in particular who really pleases him, faithfully offering prayers, always true in his dedication. Dad's kind of puffing up, thinking Ares is talking about him, you know? Then Ares starts on about how upset he'd be if anything ever happened to this worshipper, how he watches out for him, but he didn't realize he would need protection in his own home. His voice is getting louder, and meaner, and Dad's starting to look confused..." Jett laughed again, struggling to continue. "Then he says, really loud, 'Understand this, little man. Joxer is mine, and I'll thank you to keep your hands off what doesn't belong to you!' Then Dad starts to argue with him, saying that you're his son, blah, blah, blah. Strife can't believe it, I can't believe it, Ares really can't believe it." Jett shook his head, taking another drink of wine.

Joxer's face was rapt. "So then what happened?"

"Well, Ares just shook his head, like he couldn't believe anyone could be so stupid, you know? Then he says real soft, 'I'll tell you what, little man. From now on, I'm going to check in on Joxer every night. And whatever you've done to him, I'm gonna come do to you. How's that for a deal?' Dad starts to choke and can't get any words out. Ares is looking at Dad like he's a turd or something, Strife's rolling on the floor laughing, and I'm loving it, I mean it was so much better than I'd even hoped for." Jett chuckled again and refilled his goblet. "So anyway, that's what happened."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Joxer thought hard, but couldn't remember anything unusual that would indicate nightly visits from Ares.

"I don't know." Jett looked confused. "I think I started to a couple of times, but then I'd like kind of forget. It was weird. You know, it was almost like I didn't even really remember it until after I left home. Maybe Ares didn't want you to know?"

"But then why are you telling me now?" Joxer asked.

"I don't know that either. Maybe Ares doesn't mind if you know now. Who can understand gods?" Jett shrugged and leaned over to refill Joxer's goblet.

"Thanks," Joxer said absently, reaching for the wine and taking a drink. Suddenly he thought of something. "Jett, if Ares didn't want Dad beating me, how come he let you..."

"Cause you liked it."

Joxer sat stunned, slowly raising his goblet to his lips. He suspected that Strife had been, and probably still was, Jett's lover. And, if Jett was to be believed, Ares knew Joxer, cared about him, considered him important. For as long as he could remember he had been dedicated to the God of War, faithfully praying, but certainly never expecting any kind of personal response. He shook his head, wondering again if Jett were making this up. But he knew Jett, better than anyone else, and for all his other faults, he knew his twin was honest. Jett. He wondered what Ares thought about the things he and Jett did together, what Jett did to him. At that thought he felt a little shock of arousal. Oh yes, he had liked it.

He slowly raised his eyes to look at his brother. "Let's go upstairs, Jett."

The storm Jett had predicted had hit with full force. Lightning periodically illuminated the room, followed closely by sharp cracks of rolling thunder. They had brought their goblets and the pitcher of wine from downstairs. Joxer lowered his pack to the floor and set his goblet on the table so he could remove his armor. He reached for his goblet again and felt Jett's cool fingers touch his wrist. He froze, waiting.

"With all this thunder, no one will hear a thing." Jett's words were a whisper of breath on his ear. Joxer shivered and could feel Jett's smile against his cheek, cool fingers on his neck, cupping his face, soft lips touching his. Jett slid his hands down Joxer's back to his waist, pulling his body close. Joxer sank into the kiss, greedy for Jett's mouth, for his wine scented breath. He lifted his hands to Jett's soft hair, lightly running his fingers through it, tightening, then stroking down his neck and over his strong shoulders. The kissing he'd done since he left home had mostly been with Meg's girls, most of who were much shorter. It felt good, right, to be tight against Jett's body, exactly the same height, eye to eye, mouth to mouth, cock to cock. He groaned and dropped his hands to Jett's belt, unbuckling it with shaking fingers and pulling it loose.

Joxer pulled back slightly, reluctantly breaking the kiss. A flash of lightning revealed Jett's intent face and Joxer was dazed by the expression. "Jett," he whispered, but his voice was drowned out by thunder. He waited for the rumbling to end. "Jett, take off your clothes." He didn't really expect Jett to obey him, but stood still holding the belt as his brother did just that. Finally he stood naked in front of Joxer, lightning now revealing a wide smile.

"Now what?" Joxer could hear amusement in Jett's voice.

"Well," Joxer took a deep breath to steady himself. "I think I'm gonna take a little nap."

"Uh huh. Funny guy."

"I am, aren't I?" Joxer chuckled. "Maybe I should add that to my song."

"Joxer, take your clothes off." Jett was moving closer and Joxer leaned in for a kiss.

"Mmmm. I can't get undressed if you keep kissing me."

"What? You kissed me!" Jett grabbed Joxer's shirt and began unfastening the front. "I guess I'm going to have to do this myself."

"Hey, your hands are cold!" Joxer shivered as said cold hands brushed over his hardened nipples.

"Uh huh." Jett slid the shirt off Joxer's shoulders, and as it dropped to the floor, he began to work on the pants. "Not to worry, you'll be warmed up soon. I promise." Jett kissed him deeply and Joxer moaned, swaying forward to bring their bodies in closer contact while he tried unsuccessfully to toe off his boots.

Jett laughed. "Jox, just stop and take off your damned boots."

Joxer knelt and unlaced the boots, and was finally able to remove them and the pants that had been trapped around his ankles. He felt around with his hands, and not finding what he sought, waited for the next flash of lightning. When it came, he saw it a few feet away. Jett's belt. He leaned over and grabbed the belt, then stood as Jett reached for him, fingers fluttering through his hair, holding his head, drawing him closer for another kiss. He felt a moan escape his throat, but the sound was drowned out by another roll of thunder. As another flash of lightning illuminated the room he pulled back and looked at Jett. His lips were swollen from kissing, eyes heavy-lidded with lust; he was gorgeous to Joxer. He stepped back and handed the belt to Jett.

"C'mon, Jett."

Joxer lay in a state of blissful exhaustion, snug in a soft, comfortable bed, listening to the rolling thunder and the rain drumming on the roof. Jett's body was curled behind him, snoring softly, his arm tight about Joxer's waist.

Joxer sighed happily; it was just like old times.

Continue on to the sequel If Wishes Were Horses