Page 19 of Bloom
1686
Looking back, Aleric realized what a stupid, gullible eighteen-year-old he was. Like most teenagers, he didn’t see himself that way.
Since seventeen, he’d had a crush on Gautier. It wasn’t his first, although it was the first one he’d had on an older man. He expected nothing to happen since he was positive an older man wouldn’t think twice about him if he dared to say anything. Besides, even looking at Aleric was practically illegal since anyone under eighteen couldn’t consent to sex or a relationship with an adult.
Gautier was forty when Aleric turned eighteen, and his crush hadn’t abated. He’d been with a few his age, and he knew he liked tall men with hard, muscular bodies. Gautier fit that description and was damn good-looking for his age with his orange eyes and short hair.
Before he’d moved in permanently, he’d visited many times to see Father, his friend, so Aleric was familiar with his personality. He was easy to talk to and open to the opinions and thoughts of others. He wasn’t a man who argued for the sake of it or because he felt being right was more important.
A few weeks after his eighteenth birthday, they’d held a party for a Morian lord who was turning fifty. After dinner, the court danced and alcohol flowed. Aleric wasn’t a heavy drinker, and he grew bored after a while. Clementine was sick at home with a cold, Zacharie was being a pest, and they wouldn't have dessert for a while since everyone needed time for the meal to go down. Aleric danced with a few for something to do, including an old woman who’d kept patting his face and saying he looked just like her grandson.
Gautier ended up alone at his table since the occupants had gotten up to do one of the faster dances. Sometimes, Aleric talked to him alone. He was an old family friend, and while Aleric hadn’t dared to admit anything about his feelings, it was also an excuse to admire him and be near.
He wanted more than that. Instead of men his age, he wanted to know what it was like in bed with an older, experienced man. Since he figured that wasn’t ever happening despite him being old enough, he figured he might as well try to get a dance. It’d be an excuse to touch him and have those large hands on him, even though what he truly wanted was for Gautier’s hands to be on his cock.
Aleric finally worked up the courage to go over since Father was talking to a cousin at the High Table and not paying attention to him. Father might not like it, but a dance was harmless, and it didn’t have to mean a thing. If he said anything, Aleric could brush him off. It hadn’t meant anything with the old lady either. Gautier would likely say no anyway.
Nobody seemed to be paying attention when he sat at the table. Talking to a family friend wasn’t worth a second thought. After a while, Aleric finally made himself ask.
Gautier didn’t say yes, but it wasn’t exactly a no either. Aleric was too young, and when he said he wasn’t, Gautier sighed.
“You seem a lot older than eighteen, and sometimes I forget when I speak to you. But the fact is, you are eighteen, and your Father might not like it. He probably looks at you and sees a little boy. Most Fathers do, and they don’t want their young sons with a forty-year-old man.”
True. Occasionally, Father treated him a bit like a child even though he was an adult. On his eighteenth birthday, a few young men had taken Aleric to a whorehouse that night since he was finally old enough to enter one. Lord Monet had complained the next morning about him staying out too late as though he were a child who needed to be in bed by a certain time.
“I’m not a child,” Aleric said even though he was pretty sure he had no chance at that point. “Father might complain, but I’m still an adult. Age is only a number, and I just asked for a dance.”
“True. The thing is-” Gautier leaned in and spoke in a low voice even though no one was close enough to hear over the music from the musicians on one side of the Hall. “Age is only a number, but if I dance with you, I’ll want other things that are far from innocent, such as having you naked and tied up on my bed.”
Aleric didn’t even know what to say to the blatant statement. Even the last guy he’d been with, who tied him plenty of times, hadn't stated what he wanted so fast.
“It might be a bit much, especially combined with everything else I'd enjoy doing to you once you're at my mercy. I prefer submissives, and I don't fool around with virgins.”
Thank Elira that Aleric’s ass wouldn’t grow slick unless he pushed his heat. If it did, he would have been sitting in a puddle at the image of him tied up with Gautier doing whatever he wanted to him.
Kink with him…an older man would be more experienced and so much better. He could teach Aleric a few things. Gautier looked at him like he hadn’t said anything dirty, and Aleric suddenly remembered he should speak instead of staring at him like an idiot.
“I lost my virginity two years ago.”
“Yes, to another fumbling sixteen-year-old. I’m sure you’re still quite innocent.”
“I’m not innocent either,” added Aleric. “I know what I like.”
Gautier watched him with a slight smile. “I won’t dance with you in case your Father starts wondering, and I’d rather skip dessert and go to my rooms. If you like, you can come by tonight and show me if you’re innocent or not. Or you can go to bed if you think you can’t handle a rough night.”
Aleric’s cock was hard, and he had to shift, trying to relieve the pressure. He liked it when bigger, stronger men were rough in bed with him. “The rougher, the better. It sounds like you’re trying to scare me off.”
Gautier leaned in, and his hand found Aleric’s thigh under the table to squeeze. “I just want you to know what you’re getting into. If you come to my rooms, the first thing I’m going to do is strip you naked and take you over my knee to redden your little ass.”
Thankful for the tablecloth hiding everything, he reached under to take Gautier’s hand and pull it up so he could feel Aleric’s hard cock. “That’s rather tame. You’ll need to work a bit harder to scare me off.”
Gautier squeezed his cock, and Aleric had to force himself to sit still instead of trying to thrust into his hand. “We’ll see what you say later. Think about it and don’t rush into it.”
With those parting words, like he was trying to steer Aleric away if he was more innocent than he was letting on, Gautier stood and left the Hall. Aleric’s coat was long enough to hide his erection, but he stayed at the table for a couple of minutes. Dear Elira, he hadn’t expected their little talk to take such a turn, and he was practically throbbing in his trousers.
He’d already made his decision. Like he was going to say no to an older, experienced man who was prepared to blow his mind.
After dessert, Aleric told Father he was going to bed and went to Gautier’s rooms instead. As soon as the door was closed behind him, Gautier picked him up, pinned him against the wall, and kissed him.
He hadn’t been lying about being rough. Once he’d reddened Aleric’s ass with his bare hand, it was only then the rope came out.
“I guess you’re not so innocent after all,” Gautier said later as he held up one of Aleric’s legs.
Aleric, thoroughly bound and with a load of cum on his face as he lay on the bed, couldn’t think of a proper response. Gautier’s fingers up his slick ass and the impending orgasm were taking up too much attention.
He went to sleep in his arms that night and was awoken before dawn. Gautier told him he needed to go back to his rooms before servants started coming around or courtiers got up. He could come back another night if he wanted.
“You need to be on herbs if you want me to breed your ass,” Gautier whispered before kissing him and reaching around to squeeze a cheek.
Fuck yes, Aleric wanted his ass bred. Just not with the result that could appear nine months later. Age might have been just a number, but he didn’t want to have a baby at eighteen. The wise woman outside of town made the herb pasties he preferred for protection.
Gautier was everything he wanted from a man in bed. He had the stamina to keep up with Aleric’s libido, their kinks aligned, and he taught him a few things as well. Gautier said he was a natural submissive too. After a couple of weeks, he was hooked, although it was mostly on the older man’s cock.
If they’d stopped at that point, Aleric’s attention likely would have wandered elsewhere since he was young, and he’d gotten a few hard fucks, spankings, and loads to swallow, often while tied up in creative positions. Except after a couple of weeks, when Gautier came to his room instead, Aleric didn’t feel like having sex since dinner had left him with a stomachache that wouldn’t quite go away.
They ended up playing cards and talking. If Aleric had said that to some of his previous bed buddies, they usually would have left since there wouldn’t be any sex. Gautier seemed more interested in knowing Aleric, and he said in private, he could call him Alex. After they found they both had the same view on a couple of things, Gautier told him again that he seemed older than eighteen and more mature than some men with a decade on him.
They kept seeing each other at night, and unlike previous men who’d been in a hurry to get to the sex part, Gautier didn’t mind if they spent time with their clothes on for a bit. There were a few nights when they ended up simply going to sleep together.
After a couple of months, Lord Gautier admitted he wished Aleric could live in his rooms so they could have a proper relationship. In the past weeks, they’d been careful to not say or do anything in public to keep things a secret.
“I could move in,” he said that night.
“You know we can’t,” Gautier said beside him in bed. “I already told you. Your Father wouldn’t like this.”
Aleric shifted against Gautier’s side and stared at the circle of light on the ceiling from the crystal lantern on a table in the corner. “If you want us to be together-”
“Regis isn’t going to say that age is just a number. What if he calls me a cradle robber?”
Aleric rolled his eyes. “I’m an adult. There’s no law against us, and I think it’s quite clear we get along in a lot of ways. You’re also Father’s friend, and he knows you’re a decent man. It’s not like you're a random courtier or a stranger I found in C?te. It was also me who approached you. That’s hardly robbing the cradle.”
“Listen to me.” Gautier propped himself up on his elbow, and Aleric rolled over to face him. “I know you’re an adult, and you’re mature for your age. Regis also knows you’re an adult, but I know he still sees you as a child in some ways. He’s not going to like his son being with a man who’s twenty-two years older.”
“He already knows you, and-”
“I understand. I also know you’re far more mature than most men your age, but you’re not a Father, and I don’t think you’ve looked at things from his point of view. You haven’t been an adult for that long, and even though you seem older than you are, he’s had you since you were a baby. Parents often tend to look at their sons and daughters as children for longer, and it’s hard to let it go. If you tell him anything, he’ll roll his eyes and say you’re being silly and how you should be with someone your age. He’ll remember when he was your age and had little crushes or people he wanted to be with. He’ll also remember how much lust and the desire for companionship can be quite strong, but it doesn’t always mean anything.”
“If you want us to live in the same rooms and have a real relationship where we’re open, I think that’s a little more than lust. I’m aware some might wrinkle their noses when they think of the age gap. It’s a minor matter. I also don’t care about their opinion. It’s not them I’ll be waking up next to in the morning, and they don’t get to decide how I live my life.”
“Your Father isn’t going to think like you. An eighteen-year-old, in his mind, might spend a few months with someone and then part. It might be messy too. He doesn’t see you like I do, and he can’t, because he’s your Father. I’ve known Regis for many years, even before you were born.”
“So what are we supposed to do?”
“I’m not sure.” Gautier squinted. “Are you planning to marry Clementine in a few years? We certainly can’t be open if so.”
Aleric scowled. “If I was planning to marry her, I wouldn’t be in your bed. If you’re going to be faithful to someone, shouldn’t you start before marriage?”
“I don’t know what you two have talked about in private. You two are obviously quite close. Maybe she doesn’t care if you take lovers now. You don’t have to be fucking right now.”
“She has no interest in men, there’s no secret betrothal, and we’re not planning anything in private. Her Father has hinted, and she’s certain he expects us to marry later. That’s why he’s always allowed her to come over or for me to go to her house. He wants to be the Father of a Countess and Grandfather to a future lord.”
“Oh, he’s one of those types?”
“Exactly, but the sun will fall out of the sky before Clementine gets in bed with me and bears my children. We’re hoping her Father will give up after a while since I’m clearly not making any move toward marriage with her.”
Gautier said the best thing for them to do was wait a couple of years. They’d keep quiet, and that meant Aleric couldn’t even tell Clementine, which he protested. He told his friend everything, and Gautier said they shouldn’t risk her letting anything slip or acting differently toward them. After a couple of years, once Aleric seemed more like an adult in Lord Monet’s eyes, they could be open. If he had already been with the same man for so long, it would be obvious their relationship wasn’t a quick fling that would fizzle out in a couple of weeks.
With that, Lord Monet would get over the age gap. Clearly, with Aleric happy and well-treated by Gautier, he couldn’t object. Aleric finally agreed.
“One day, maybe you’ll let me breed you for real and put a child in your belly.” Gautier slid his hand over Aleric’s waist.
If he wanted to have a child, that meant he intended for them to marry at a future point. A man only interested in a fling wouldn’t bring up children, and Aleric would be happy to have this man in his life forever.
During the day, they treated each other like nothing special was happening, and Aleric said nothing to Clementine even though he didn’t like keeping it from her. Lord Monet was oblivious, and Zacharie was too young to tell or give a shit. A couple of men tried to approach him, hoping to get in his trousers, and Aleric rejected them.
By the end of summer, those who liked gossip didn’t need to look close to home to find something to yak about. The Crown Prince and Prince of Moria, King Alton’s sons, ran away with two women, or as one Countess put it, “a couple of trollops.” Utterly infuriated and claiming he’d never forgive his sons, King Alton named his nephew, Raoul, as the new Crown Prince of Moria.
In the spring of 1687, gossip about King Alton’s family matters died out. Queen Margot and Crown Prince Enzo died in a vicious werewolf attack. The werewolves had come from Rowland. There had already been werewolf trouble in Soleil, and King Jean had banned werewolves from their borders, so rumors of potential war started. King Jean, devastated by the death of his wife and oldest son, demanded answers.
Why was King Giorgio of Rowland allowing them on passenger ships headed for Soleil? The three who’d come that one morning had obviously intended to kill as many as possible in retaliation for the deaths of a few in the north.
King Giorgio of Rowland refused to restrict the werewolves who lived in his Kingdom and South Sea, another country to the south that had been mostly abandoned by fairies. He also claimed he couldn’t control everyone with a ship, and he wasn’t at fault.
With the rulers of both Kingdoms going back and forth, the attitude toward Rowland people changed, and some of the courtiers started treating Aleric a bit differently since he was half Rowland, thanks to his Mother. Father kicked out a few, and while he didn’t admit it, it was likely because they’d said something too insulting to ignore.
The werewolf who’d directly attacked Queen Margot and Prince Enzo was dead. One other had died. The one to live was imprisoned. Some wondered if the remaining werewolf would be put to death soon. The trio had viciously attacked a crowd and caused a mass panic, so all three were responsible for lost Soleilian lives. They’d fought as if rabid. Moria wasn’t of much interest anymore even though Raoul had supposedly run away, caused trouble, been caught in humiliating circumstances, and ended up being sent on holiday to a house by the beach to “rest.”
Aleric wasn’t entirely sure what that meant or what his problem was. Matters in Soleil were more interesting. Before his twentieth birthday in 1688, the werewolf was still imprisoned.
Sometimes, Aleric and Gautier couldn’t help but sneak away to have a few minutes during the day even if it was just to simply be near each other to talk without eyes. Or occasionally to have a quick kiss. One morning, they snuck into the tower since nobody went up there.
They’d been having an issue in the past few months because Gautier had brought up a kink, and Aleric wasn’t into it. He liked being tied up, whipped with the belt, caned, and being called a slut. He also liked having his head pushed down during oral to give it a forced feel.
Consensual non-consent was not a kink he was into. He didn’t mind giving a little resistance during kink and sex, and it was fine for Gautier to pin him and “force” him to take it during anal or oral because he liked it. He didn’t want to pretend he was being raped and beg for it to stop or continuously struggle during the act. If other people liked that, fine. It didn’t mean he was willing to engage in it, and the concept creeped him out a bit.
Gautier argued that consensual non-consent was simply a different way of exchanging power. If Aleric liked being tied to the bed to be used at his leisure for a couple of hours, why couldn’t he take it a little farther? Why couldn’t he let himself be “attacked” and fight the whole time while he was fucked anyway? It was like acting, and he’d still have his safety word or signal if needed. No harm would come to him.
Aleric still refused. It was too uncomfortable, and even though he loved Gautier, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Gautier hadn’t brought it up lately, and in the tower, they started kissing and touching.
“I’d like it if we could finally be open,” Aleric said as he rested his head on Gautier’s chest.
“Not yet.”
“Hasn’t it been long enough, Alex?”
“We’re not sure if there’s going to be a war or not, and Regis has been a bit distracted.”
“I know. Father’s going to pay the fine. His knees are getting too painful, and he’s not going to war. He’s going to pay the fine for me too because he doesn’t want me going to war.”
“Smart.”
“I’d rather fight to defend our Kingdom if needed.”
“I’d rather you stay safe here with me. I’m not going. Still, I’d rather we not tell Regis now. Why don’t we wait a bit and see where things go?”
Aleric looked up at him and smiled. “I thought you wanted to marry me. Then you can put a baby in me.”
Gautier smiled back. “I do, but if war is coming, I don’t want our wedding overshadowed by it. Peace is the best time to marry.”
He had a point. “Fine. Father thinks they might execute the werewolf soon. I hope they do.”
“Why?” Gautier frowned. “Let the rubbish rot in prison for the rest of his life. It’s fitting.”
After the incident in 1687, Gautier and several others had been vocal in their dislike of werewolves. Plenty of fairies disliked them, and wars had been fought between both sides in the distant past. Even though the Goddess Elira had adopted them as their children when she still walked the realm, and they’d supposedly come from Asgard, not everyone felt kind toward them.
“That’s not right,” said Aleric.
Gautier raised an eyebrow as he leaned on the window. “Would you like to tell Prince Remere and Sébastien that it's not right when their Mother and brother lay dead in the family tomb thanks to one of those mutts?”
“No.”
“Or perhaps you’d like to tell King Jean to get over his wife and son’s death. And Prince Corentin. His sister-in-law and nephew are dead, but it’s not right to keep a werewolf imprisoned.”
“You know I don’t mean it like that. I’m not saying to release the werewolf or to get over Queen Margot and Prince Enzo’s death. I mean, keeping him imprisoned for life is wrong. I know that trio came here with the intent to kill and get revenge for those that died in the north, so it’s best to put him to death and get it over with.”
“It’s better to leave him in prison to rot for the rest of his miserable life. Let him sit in a cell and remember the events that brought him there. It’s his own fault. Nobody forced the mutt to get on a ship.”
“They’re not mutts.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” asked Gautier. “Those mutts killed people.”
“I know. When a fairy commits violent murder, we usually hang them.” Enslaving a criminal guilty of a vicious crime might end badly if the slave escaped or decided to kill their owner. If they’d already murdered before, what was another? “Killing the criminal doesn’t bring back the dead or fix anything. Get rid of the killer. Erase them. It’s better.”
“If your Mother hadn’t died of a fever, and someone had killed her, would you feel the same?”
“Yes. I’d rather see her murderer dead. Keeping anyone imprisoned for life is useless cruelty. Father agrees with me on this. It won’t bring back the Queen or the last Crown Prince, but it might help them with closure a little. The one who actually killed them was already dead, and they can’t get revenge through another one. I don’t think anyone should be locked up for life, fairy or werewolf. The one who is keeping them locked up is stooping to cruelty themselves.”
“Even with a werewolf?” Gautier asked incredulously.
“Yes. It’s a being capable of logic, reason, and feeling, just like a fairy, and I-”
“You feel pity for those beasts? For fuck’s sake.”
Aleric squinted. “In general, they’re not bad. I don’t have a problem with them.”
Gautier laughed, but a note of anger crept into his voice. “You better be fucking kidding me.”
Aleric lifted his chin. “No. I’m not. The majority are fine nowadays. They’re rather like fairies. Some are bad, others are good. When we leave them alone, they don’t often bother us.”
“It wasn’t long ago that we had an incident in the north. They killed fairies, and then the dock incident-don’t give me this ridiculous shit. I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you, of all people.”
“I know what happened. The fairies in the north could have walked away. They escalated things.”
Gautier shook his head. “They’re beasts. The realm would be better off if they all died.” He pointed a finger at Aleric. “You better watch what you say, or people will be calling you a werewolf lover and fucker.”
Aleric flushed. The insult had become a popular one to use against Rowland since King Giorgio still refused to control those in his Kingdom or South Sea.
“Those werewolves in the north only killed after they were attacked. The fairies could have walked away. They didn’t, and they started the violence. I’d say they’re at fault even though the murder wasn’t right. They were not completely innocent victims.”
“Just stop,” Gautier snapped. “You sound like an absolute idiot, and you're pissing me off.”
“I’m not an idiot for having my own opinion, and you can’t change how I feel,” Aleric said firmly despite a muscle twitching in Gautier’s jaw. “I'm not changing it to suit you either, so if it pisses you off, that’s your problem. I’d say they react just like us in general. If you were a werewolf, and a fairy walked up to you and spit at your feet-”
Gautier suddenly grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into the wall. His fingers tightened to where Aleric couldn’t draw in a breath. Pure fear shot through him when his feet lifted a couple of inches from the floor, and Gautier’s face drew in.
“Don’t you dare ever compare me to one of those foul beasts.”
Aleric grabbed at Gautier’s wrist. The hand didn’t loosen, and his first instinct was to say his safe word because he needed Gautier off and for everything to stop. Except he couldn’t speak, and they hadn’t been playing. The grip hurt, and his chest ached from panic.
“I didn’t think you’d be a damn werewolf sympathizer. I can guarantee you’d feel quite differently too if your Mother had died thanks to one of those things.”
What the fuck? Why was he doing this? He’d never been violent before. Aleric nearly panicked as he shoved at Gautier’s arm. His hand suddenly loosened, and Aleric had to grab the wall behind him when his feet touched the floor.
“Elira, I-” Gautier reached for him.
“Get the fuck away from me,” Aleric gasped as he stumbled aside.
“I’m sorry-I didn’t mean to squeeze you-”
Aleric clutched at his aching throat. “G-get away…you choked me!”
“Aleric, I’m sorry. I didn’t-” Gautier grabbed him in a hug before he could do anything. “I was angry, but I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. You know I love you.”
How could he love Aleric and treat him like that? His mind reeled at the sudden flip as his hair was stroked.
“I’m sorry. I swear-I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
He’d just hurt Aleric seconds ago, and his throat ached. Gautier squeezed him and kept apologizing. Aleric didn’t pull away. Even though he was still frightened, the other half of him desperately wanted the comfort Gautier was giving him.
***
Gautier damn near smothered him with love and desperately apologized even after Aleric said he was forgiven. He didn’t dare mention werewolves again and decided it was a touchy subject that they’d have to privately agree to disagree on. Some people couldn’t be swayed and would always view them as beasts worthy of nothing but suffering.
Aleric shouldn’t have brought up his thoughts on werewolves. Not about them if Gautier hated them so strongly. He wanted to put the whole incident behind him and not think of it anymore.
A few days afterward, Gautier started bringing up his kink once more. Aleric refused. They argued over it. The matter was dropped for a little while. They argued again over it a few nights later. Aleric still refused and told him he was sick of being asked when he had no interest.
Gautier apologized, kissed him, and said he wouldn’t ever ask again. Aleric doubted it, but he didn’t want to start anything else. They shared a glass of wine in front of the fire, and it wasn’t long before Gautier got handsy.
It was clear what he had in mind. Aleric, still rather annoyed over earlier, would have preferred to drink a little more wine and go to bed, but Gautier started loosening his trousers. When he suggested they go into the bedroom, Aleric agreed. Why not? An orgasm would chase away the annoyance, and they’d both be happy.
Bent over the bed with his hands tied behind him, he hadn’t taken many strikes from the belt on his ass when he realized he wasn’t going to be able to get into it.
If he pushed his heat, it would help a lot, but he didn’t want to in the first place. Forcing his body to be into it didn’t mean his mind would follow anyway. He’d planned to use it for the sex like usual, so they wouldn’t have to bother with oil, but he wasn’t looking forward to sex either.
“Let’s stop.” With him not truly in the mood, the stinging wasn’t fun. The next lash came a little harder and made him grunt. “Fine. Red.”
He hadn’t needed his safety word before, and it was more for intense things since people don’t usually shout random colors. Before, he’d simply said if anything wasn’t quite right so they could fix the issue and move on.
“We’ve barely gotten started,” said Gautier.
“I want to stop. I’m not feeling it.”
“Why?”
Aleric turned his head a little. Lord Gautier’s erection was obvious in his trousers. He’d taken off his shirt, and he adjusted the folded-over belt he held in one hand. “I’m not in the mood. Can you undo my wrists now?”
“You seemed like you were a few minutes ago.”
Aleric managed to stand. “Untie me. I’d rather go to bed. You can stay if you want.”
“That’s it? You’re going to go to bed and leave me hanging?”
Aleric couldn’t believe his ears. “I just said I’m not in the mood. It doesn’t feel good, and I’m tired. I thought I’d get into it, but I can’t, and I’m done.”
“We’re not done.” Gautier grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him back down over the bed. “Use your heat. You’ll be fine.”
“I don’t want to use my heat!” Aleric jerked when the belt hit him, and the leather left a hot stripe of pain across his rear that wasn’t pleasant at all. “I said red! Red!”
Another strike came. He twisted and kicked out as he tried to loosen his wrists.
“How many times do I have to say red?! Stop hitting me!”
“I said to push your heat. You’re not going to get me excited and stop after five minutes.”
“Get off! I said I don’t want to!”
Gautier held him down and gave two hard strikes with such force, Aleric yelled out of desperation. Nobody was staying in the room directly above or below him, and nobody was down the hall either. The chances of anyone hearing him were quite slim. He screamed the word help, hoping someone would hear and realize he was in trouble.
“Be quiet!”
“Let me go!”
Gautier grabbed him by the hair, shoved his face down into the bed, and ignored his struggles. Aleric gasped at the next lash.
Nobody had ever hit him with the buckle end of a belt. The rectangular piece with scalloped edges wasn’t very big, but the sharp strike of metal against his flesh hurt more than anything else he’d felt. He’d barely had time to process the pain before it struck again.
It hit everywhere on his ass and thighs, bringing spots of searing pain. He kicked, twisted, and struggled to get up or slide down. Anything to get away from it. His scalp stung as Gautier tightened his grip.
“You can’t give me something simple I want, and now you’re denying me? I see how this relationship is going to be.”
Aleric clenched his jaw to keep quiet as he stiffened and tried to brace himself for each lash. It didn’t help. Twice, the belt wrapped around and caught his hip. When the metal struck bone, he bit his tongue until he tasted blood.
Gautier finally released Aleric who slipped to the floor as his legs trembled. His wrists stung as he pulled on the rope and tried to get up to move away, afraid the belt buckle was going to hit him again.
Gautier grabbed his arm, and Aleric’s breath hitched when he saw his other hand curl into a fist.
“Alex-please-”
The fist to Aleric’s gut knocked the words from him.
“You could have used your heat and taken it. I wasn’t asking for much tonight. I guess after a couple of years, you think you can deny me whenever you want now.”
He dropped Aleric who tried to curl up around the pain in his gut. He could barely breathe, not that Gautier cared. The belt hit his arm, and he huddled down, trying to protect himself. If Aleric screamed or begged, it might excite him more, and he was positive Gautier was going to rape him once he finished with the beating.
The thought almost paralyzed him, and when the belt lashed down again, he thought of his sword leaning in the corner across the room. Too far. The buckle hit his back. His dagger was on his chest of drawers. Also too far. He jerked his wrists, and the burning sting in his wrists was nothing compared to the next five lashes.
The belt clinked when Gautier stepped back. Aleric couldn’t hear anything except his own ragged breathing as he lay on the floor with his hair covering his face. Agony raged through his back, his ass, and his legs. Gautier was going to drag him onto the bed at any second. Or he’d hold Aleric down on the floor.
Aleric wouldn’t beg or give him any satisfaction.
The belt clanked once more, and he almost flinched at the sound.
“I didn’t think you’d be a tease after this long. You shouldn’t tease a dominant. Your mouth got you in trouble not long ago. I guess you learned nothing. Then again, I didn’t think you’d feel pity for werewolves to start with. Perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered with a man who’s half Rowland.”
Too afraid to sit up or even move, Aleric opened his eyes. Through the strands of his hair, he saw the lord snatching his shirt from the floor. His coat went on next. He fixed his trouser ties, slid his belt through the loops, wiped the buckle with the edge of his black shirt sleeve, and buckled it. Neat, presentable, and like his lover of the past two years wasn’t bleeding on the floor, he walked out of the room.
The silence rang in Aleric’s ears for several seconds before he finally drew in a deep breath. He heard his sitting room door shut, and his mind reeled. Gautier hadn’t even untied him.
The first time Aleric said no…it was like the past two years had meant absolutely nothing.
He started to shake when he pushed himself up into a sitting position which sent fresh agony through him. His left wrist felt wet on one side, and it burned when he tried again to wiggle a hand free. Blood was smeared on one hip and thigh, and he caught a spot of red on the hardwood floor.
Gautier had wiped blood from the buckle.
A sob tore free as he turned his head away so he wouldn’t have to see it even though he could feel cuts all over him. He needed the physician…except…he couldn’t go into the hall like that to get the physician.
He couldn’t imagine going to Olivier or anyone. How could he admit what had just happened or show them the wounds? The thought of anyone seeing him like that made his gut twist. Would they even believe him if he said Gautier was his lover for two years? Why would his lover, and a man who’d been friends with the family for years, flip on him?
He would deny it.
What if he had been guilty of rape even though Father and no one else in their court had believed the story years ago?
He could come back. Aleric had to get free and lock his doors. His dagger was in its sheath on top of his chest of drawers. Getting up wasn’t easy since his legs wouldn’t stop trembling, and every movement pulled on the cuts.
“Fuck,” he swore through gritted teeth as he steadied himself on his feet. His hip throbbed where the metal had landed.
If Gautier decided he wasn't done yet…he hurried to the chest of drawers and used his chin to knock his dagger to the floor. He sat with a wince, managed to release it from the sheath, positioned it, and sawed at the rope while hoping it didn’t slip and cut him.
The rope loosened, and he was free to get on his knees and take the pressure off of his rear. After he took a deep breath, he made himself stand. Gripping the dagger, he hurried into his empty sitting room to lock the door.
With his bedroom door also locked, he went into the privy room, although he could already guess what he looked like. He tapped a lantern and dared to turn in front of the looking glass so he could properly see himself.
His ass, thighs, and back were striped and cut. A couple from the buckle were on his upper arm and back. The scalloped metal had hit his rear and thighs more, and blood had beaded on the cuts. He knew the red stripes from the leather lashing against him would turn into wicked bruises by the next morning, and his hip was bleeding.
His wrists had raw spots and little smears of blood. How could he show that to the physician? He couldn’t fathom going to Father either and explaining that a longtime friend, who he’d secretly been fucking for two years, had done it.
It was Aleric’s fault. He never should have gotten with an older man. Every word and “I love you” from Gautier had been a lie. He’d been a thing to use for sex. For the past two years, Aleric had been compliant in bed because their kinks had always aligned.
He’d never said no, and it was clear Gautier didn’t like that word. Perhaps King Alton’s cousin, Matthew, had dared to utter that word once.
***
He’d woken up with a sore backside before after a fun night. He’d never woken up on his stomach with cuts and brutal bruises blossoming all over him. He’d never had to carefully sponge at loose bandages to loosen the dried blood and take care of himself while trying not to cry.
Somehow, he had to go downstairs and face Gautier. Considering how he’d walked out, their relationship was over. A heavy, dreadful feeling had settled in his gut. It didn’t vanish when he balled up the bloody bandages and dropped them down the privy chute so a servant wouldn’t find them. The feeling didn’t lessen when he dabbed at himself with a damp cloth because the nasty cut right on his hip bone had opened up despite trying to lay so he wasn’t putting pressure on it. It hurt the worst because the entirety of his hipbone was bruised from the buckle landing twice.
Whenever two people are engaging in anything sexual, kinky or not, if one wants to stop, with or without a safe word, the other is supposed to immediately stop. Despite that, Aleric couldn’t shake the sensation that he was in the wrong. If he’d declined in the sitting room before they got into anything, maybe nothing would have happened. If he hadn’t said it partway through the action, he wouldn’t have angered Gautier.
He wouldn’t be in so much pain and trying to take care of himself.
Even though a man should never beat his lover, he still kept thinking of ways he could have avoided everything while he carefully dressed. If he had, he probably would have woken up with Gautier in his bed. Everything would be fine.
Unless he said no in the future…He might as well have been lying with a snake that would only lash out once angered. It wasn’t a matter of if. It was a matter of when.
At breakfast, he was stiff in his chair while he tried to act normal, although he could barely bring himself to look at Father or anyone in the Hall. He couldn’t help but think that somehow, everyone knew that he’d been beaten and left on the floor like a worthless piece of shit. They might even think it was his fault. Who had agreed to keep the relationship a secret for so long? Aleric.
He hadn’t told Clementine in the past two years. No one knew. Admitting the truth would sound like a wild story pulled from the air. They might think he was using it to cover up something else. Maybe he’d snuck out and gone to a sleazy whorehouse like an idiot.
The sons of lords aren’t beaten in their bedrooms. They don’t fuck family friends in secret. Or if they do, perhaps something is wrong with them. If he told Father, Gautier would flatly deny it all. Why on Ymir’s dirt would he ever hurt anyone, especially the son of his best friend?
Everyone would say it didn’t seem like they’d been together.
While his mind chased itself in circles with various ways he could be blamed, he caught a glimpse of Gautier entering, and the bite of toast in his mouth turned to paste as he stared at his plate. He should tell Father and admit everything no matter how crazy it sounded.
He should have said something when Gautier choked him in the tower. A glimpse of his real colors had shown that day, and Aleric had stupidly buried his head in the sand.
The rape accusation was probably true. Gautier was a foul man masquerading as one who’d been wrongfully accused by a jealous lover. The King’s cousin had probably said no or they’d argued enough to get Gautier’s rage up. He’d probably been nagged about the rape kink, and after continued refusal, Gautier had done what he wanted.
He liked submissives, and not just men willing to do kinky activities. He wanted men who’d always do what they were told. Guys who wouldn’t stick to their own opinions and morals to avoid an argument.
“Are you all right?” asked Father.
“Mhm.” Somehow, the simple question made the shame in his gut burn worse. It still ached from the punch too.
“You seem a bit off.”
“I didn’t sleep well.”
The words rolled out like nothing, and his throat tightened when Father took his words at face value and started talking to Zacharie. Aleric scrambled for something to say and came up blank.
Out in the Hall, Gautier was talking to a courtier and eating. Aleric almost wished he’d come over, apologize, somehow explain away everything, give a genuine reason to erase the terror of last night, make it better, and apologize. He wanted to be comforted and told he was loved so everything could go back to the way it had been.
It had never truly been what he thought.
***
He told himself multiple times that he’d go to Father and admit everything. The two good years, the throat grab, how Gautier had constantly asked for a kink he wasn’t interested in, and how he’d beaten Aleric bloody in his bedroom before leaving him tied on the floor.
He couldn’t do it.
He snagged a bottle of vodka from a sideboard in a sitting room, disinfected his cuts, loosely bandaged the wounds, put old balm on them that barely did anything, and did his best to not look like he was in pain when he had to leave his rooms. His sleeves stayed down at all times to hide his wrists, and he was careful to not let his gait grow stiff around others. He spent a lot of time lying on his stomach in bed and wishing he had the guts to say something so that fucker could be imprisoned.
If he told Father, would the feeling that he was partly in the wrong go away?
Gautier could be a slave. Maybe someone would buy and abuse him, and he’d know what it felt like. The fucker was walking completely free, and he barely looked at Aleric. It was like the past two years hadn’t happened and he was no one. Every kiss, every night tangled naked in bed, every touch, word, conversation…everything had been fake.
The more Aleric thought about it, the more disgusted he grew with himself. His shame was so thick, he could practically touch it. He’d let that man teach him positions, do whatever he wanted, and breed his ass.
Even though he’d always been careful with his herbs before sex, he started to fear they’d failed, and he’d soon find himself pregnant.
If so, he’d have to go to Delphine and get the herbs to do away with the pregnancy. He’d rather have a baby with a drunk, Dust-snorting bum from the streets over Gautier.
He’d handed himself over with complete trust…what a fool. After almost two years of being a good submissive who did whatever he was told, he must have been positive that Aleric would agree to his rape kink.
He cursed himself when he thought back to the night he’d naively asked for a dance and jumped on the chance to go much farther. Gautier had surely been thinking nasty things about him when he was sixteen or seventeen, but not old enough to touch. He might have been planning to eventually approach, and Aleric, being an idiot, had done the work for him. That was why Gautier had said he seemed older than eighteen.
Father asked him a few times what was wrong. Why was he spending so much time in his rooms? So he could avoid Gautier. Why didn’t he want to go riding? Because riding would be torture after a beating with the belt buckle, and his backside was black and blue.
Lord Monet accepted all of the lies Aleric made up. The more he healed, the harder it seemed. Several times, he told himself he could do it only to be unable to force himself to get up and find Father. He imagined the whole court finding out since they’d have to do a trial. Everyone would know, and he’d curl up again on his bed.
Clementine came on the third afternoon. He’d considered telling her, but the sight of her in tears scratched that. Her small cold was gone and not responsible for her sniffling.
The night before, she’d dared to tell Father she wanted to marry Belle, their servant. Belle had held her hand and told him they were in love. Clementine’s Father had immediately sacked Belle and thrown her out despite Clementine’s begging and pleading. No daughter of his was marrying a servant.
They’d suspected for a while that Clementine was supposed to marry Aleric. Since he hadn’t hinted anything, and Clementine’s Father had never broached the subject, they hoped he might give up especially since Clementine had been in love with Belle for six months.
Aleric thought maybe he’d give in and see sense. They were friends, and things would never advance beyond friendship. His future position and money weren’t going to make her want to jump in his bed with him. Forget bearing his children.
She said she was going to wait until Father slept that night, go down to the basement, climb through the window, and run away with Belle. Forget her Father and his greedy, selfish ways. He’d have his damn merchant business and money to love. If it wasn’t Aleric, he’d start looking for another lord or someone rich enough to marry her, man or woman, and she wasn’t doing it. Even a Princess couldn’t change how she felt about Belle.
He had to talk her down from that. A lot could go wrong with a hasty plan to run away. Clementine didn’t even get an allowance from her Father. He bought her everything she needed or wanted. Running away with no money or real plan could lead to them being stranded and hungry on the street.
The best thing to do was maybe wait a while and ask him again. If she hadn’t budged in months, perhaps he’d finally get through his thick skull and stop imagining his daughter as Countess with an heir in her arms.
If he refused to change his mind and allow her to marry Belle, they might have to wait a bit longer to make things appear a little more convincing and get married. Aleric would save money in the meantime since Father gave him an allowance, although truly, he could have whatever he wanted for the most part. By the time they married, she’d have a good cushion to fall back on if needed, and he'd ensure she got away with Belle.
After he’d comforted her, and they’d put together the frame of a plan, he couldn’t bear to tell her what happened. Besides the shame, it didn’t seem fair to dump his problems on her when her eyes were still swollen from crying.
What could she do? Nothing. She still had to go home and live with her selfish Father while unable to see Belle, although Aleric had said he’d be the go-between if they wanted to pass notes under her Father’s nose.
By the fourth night, he hadn’t bothered to bandage the cuts on his back, and even if he did start bleeding, it would show since he’d chosen to wear a black shirt. The servants wouldn’t notice anything. Anytime he noticed a spot on his clothes, he soaked them in cold water to get rid of it.
Unfortunately, his ex-lover was still friends with his clueless Father, and he sat at dinner that night. Aleric almost wanted to turn around and leave the Hall when he entered to see Gautier at the High Table by Lord Monet.
He forced himself to sit. He might as well get used to it. Gautier yakked to Father all through dinner with the occasional distraction from Zacharie. Aleric was barely able to eat, and he was practically afraid to move, like prey terrified to draw the attention of a predator.
“So much for the kops he saved here and there with his ship at the bottom of the ocean now.” Lord Monet snorted.
“Some people have to learn the hard way.” Gautier chuckled and clapped Aleric on the back right where the metal had struck a couple of times. “Right?”
Aleric stiffened as Father laughed. “People like that never learn. They’d skin a flea for its hide.”
“What’s wrong with you, Aleric?” Gautier asked, like an old family friend who’d never beat anyone.
Aleric’s whole face prickled, and he was tempted to empty his barely touched wine in one go. Anything to distract him and numb the shame.
“Bad day?” asked Gautier.
“Don’t mind him,” said Lord Monet. “He’s barely talked to me in days. You’d think he was fifteen, not twenty.”
“Father, look,” Zacharie said, drawing their attention away.
“Get the spoon off your nose.”
Aleric forced in another bite of spinach and wished the floor would open and swallow him whole.
***
He never told Clementine as the time went by.
She also didn’t know how he couldn’t bring himself to go to bed with a courtier. He couldn’t let anyone into his bed. All he could think of was that they’d turn on him too, and he’d find himself bloody on his bedroom floor again. Or worse. When he went to the whorehouse to get relief that his hand couldn't quite match because he still craved touch, he couldn’t bring himself to pay and let a whore pound him.
It would put him in a vulnerable position. If Gautier could pretend for two years, shred it all to pieces, and beat him, how could he trust any man?
He topped the whores when he went. Of course, putting his dick in a tight hole felt good, and it got the job done so he wasn’t stuck with only his hand or a toy. He told himself he’d get used to it, and it was some form of contact even though he wouldn’t let himself kiss the whores either. Sex was fine if he was in full control and not the vulnerable one. He’d live if nobody ever tied him up or did any of the dirty things he loved so much.
He felt like a fraud. It wasn’t what he truly wanted and craved, and he didn’t know how to get what he desired anymore. The potential risks were too great.
Clementine had been gone for about a year when he noticed Gautier and Zacharie leaving the entrance hall together one morning. At first, he thought it was a coincidence. Several courtiers were going on a ride, so they happened to walk out at the same time.
A few nights later, Zacharie, who’d never been good at discretion, went to sit with Gautier at his table in the Hall, and judging by his face, it was obvious why. He’d only turned eighteen a couple of months ago.
“Are you going to do something about that?” Aleric asked Father with more of an attitude than he’d intended.
“Huh?”
“Your teenage son is sitting with Gautier and looking at him like the sun shines out of his ass.”
Father glanced over. “Okay?”
“Okay?”
“Zacharie admitted to me a couple of days ago that they’ve been seeing each other in secret. I’m not sure how serious it is.”
Aleric stared at him. “And?”
“And what?”
“You’re fine with that?”
Father sighed. “I’m not exactly thrilled with it. Alex is…older, but it’s been a few weeks already since Zacharie didn’t say anything right away. They seem to get along.”
Aleric wanted to ask him if this was a sick joke. But Father didn’t know Gautier had already used the older son. “He-he’s eighteen.”
“Yes, and he’s an adult now. I can’t stop him. I’d prefer that Zacharie had gone after someone younger.” Father waved a hand. “It’s done. I told him if they’re going to bed together, don’t brag about it.”
“You’re going to trust a man that old with your eighteen-year-old child?”
Father tilted his head. “Alex is a decent man. I’ve known him for years. So have you. It’s not like Alex is a stranger. Besides, Zacharie said I can’t treat him like a baby and try to hold his hand. Technically, he’s right. He’s an adult, and I need to step back.”
“He wants a fresh ass.”
Lord Monet raised an eyebrow. “This is Alex we’re talking about. Don’t refer to your brother as a fresh ass.”
“You think he doesn’t want a young body?”
“Why are you being like this?”
Aleric didn’t know what to say without revealing the truth.
“Also, why are you so cold and nasty to him now? You barely say a word if he speaks to you. Quite frankly, it’s rude. What is your problem with him? Did he offend you somehow?”
Offend. Aleric almost laughed at the word. Gautier had done far more than offend him, and Father had asked him about his attitude a few times over the past few years. Aleric still couldn’t say why.
“If you decide you don’t like someone, that’s you. It doesn’t mean you need to butt into your brother’s life.”
He didn’t like his little brother that much, but how could he look away and pretend it wasn’t happening? Even though they didn’t get along, Aleric wasn’t allowing him to step into that kind of relationship without a warning. Zacharie didn’t deserve to wake up one morning, tend to cuts and bruises, and deal with the burning humiliation Aleric still felt whenever he thought back to that one night or noticed the little white scar on his hip.