Constantine held his breath as his brother crossed the room, his eyes trying and failing to look anywhere that wasn't the firm outline of his brother's cock in his boxers. And he was trying and failing to push away the thoughts of wanting to touch it. And he was failing at not wondering if his brother still came in the same way he had when he was 13. He was failing miserably at all these things, so much in fact, that he noticed too late that Tristan was crawling into his bed and not the one his brother had picked. But that wasn't unusual. They slept together all the time. Ok, but it would be awkward though. He wriggled a little more to the edge so Tristan would have space and sighed, using it as an excuse to savour his brother's scent. "Night..?" He murmured, with just a hint of a question of if they were really going to sleep.