Hounds and bitches, chap.19

Posted by admin on March 16th, 2008 filed in Hounds and Bitches

Door opened and closed again.
Quiet steps, reddish brown hair and deep grey eyes. Hoarse breathing.
Grahame.

“Listen… I’m sorry. I’m very sorry. I was… I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry I went off on you. Just that… Oh, you don’t care to hear anyways… Do you? I’m sorry. I should not blame you. I’m just a son of a damned whore, why should anyone care?
Look, you said you would bring me a drink and tend my wounds… I… I was hoping you would. I’m sorry. I…” He just trailed off, standing somewhere in the middle of the room, looking lost and absent.

Meanwhile Keith had gotten some water to drink and was thinking. The damn shirt was definitely ruined and he had to do something about that. At the same time, he could not tell Kester about what had happened.
Damn it. He had to get his act together and give the prince a better impression next time. All of his ponderings were interrupted though. Keith sat up straight and listened attentively, trying not to look so angry. Well, he wasn’t angry anymore, to be honest. He was just damn exasperated with everything.
All right. He would handle this and plead ill tomorrow. He needed the damn sleep.
If only Grahame knew that Keith was as bad a whore as the Queen. If only he knew. Keith stood up then and walked to the prince. Close. Pretty close. He actually wanted to get a reaction. For some reason.
“I think we both have things to apologize for, so it would be better just to forget about it.”
He put on the most sincere smile he could make.
“Just sit down. I will handle it.”
Gently, but firmly he took Grahame by the shoulders and made him sit down comfortably. Then he walked to the door, knowing that there was a slight sway to his hips, and told a maid to get him hot wine and milk both, along with spirit, lotion and some bandages.
He walked back in then and closed the door.

Grahame sat as commanded and put. He was very quiet, eyes on Keith. Something in the other’s posture made him feel uneasy. Something…disturbing? Maybe it was the eyes, or the heat of hands, or maybe that little sway of hips. He really couldn’t say.
His hand was on fire and he gritted his teeth, trying to put on some royal mask. He failed terribly, it seemed.

Keith tactfully did not remark on anything and when the maid arrived, he went to the door and brought everything in. He took the bandages, the lotion and the spirit, then sat on the beside Grahame, almost touching him. But not quite.
“Now this is going to hurt,” he said, pouring some spirit on white cloth. Aodh had done it that way…Keith thought so at least.
“Shall I start?” he asked softly.

Grahame shivered, not daring to lift his eyes.
“Hurt? Oh. Alright. That’s alright.”
His appearance said something else, though - he was afraid.
He stared at Keith’s legs.
“You can begin.” He reached out his arm. Fingers trembled lightly and his skin was covered with goose bumps.

Those were pretty and slender legs covered in red velvet. Keith allowed himself a small smirk, then took hold of Grahame’s arm and began cleaning the wounds. He took care not to hurt too much. Would not do good to appear completely careless.

It burnt, searing right into the flesh and insides. Grahame hissed, gritting his teeth, but then he couldn’t help it and moaned.
So embarrassing and his cheeks flushed red.

“It is alright. I know how it hurts,” Keith said quietly.
He of course refrained from saying that he was used to pain already. When he was finished, he took some lotion and began rubbing it into the wounds. Finally he bandaged it all, hoping that he did not do too badly. He did not have much experience with dressing someone’s wounds.
“There. Now it is done. Do you wish to drink wine or milk? I had both brought in.”

“Wine,” Grahame whispered. “I… I hate milk. Thank you, sir. For dressing my wounds and…”
And for taking the rest of the shit.

“You are welcome,” Keith said, stood up and brought Grahame the cup of wine. “Here you go.”
He himself sat into one of the chairs and drank milk. He liked it. It was so good compared to what he usually had to eat and drink.

Grahame took the cup with his right hand and sat, sipping it in silence. Then he sighed.
“Shit. I’ll have to go on a hunting trip in the morning. Oh dammit. Dammit, dammit. Damn her.
I’m sorry. Just that… Oh, if only you knew…”

“I will listen if you wish to talk,” Keith said. He did not really what else to say. Yeah, if he only knew…right. At least you don’t have my life, prince, he thought darkly.

“I don’t…” Grahame replied, his lip trembling. “I… should get going. Thank you again, and please accept my sincere apologies.”
He stood up, looking lost, feeling uncomfortable. There was something strange about this valet of Lord Kester.

Keith put his milk away and got up as well. Got closer. “You are welcome. You don’t have to apologize.” Maybe he had even succeeded in something. Making the young man trust him a little. Or maybe not.

Grahame sighed. Some part of him was very reluctant to leave. A good part of him suggested that he get the hell out of here. So confused. He couldn’t go anywhere. No one to understand him, whereas he had to understand them all. Be Lindsie’s big rational brother and stay strong. Be a good advisor and defender to Fingall. And oh the masks, the masks to put on for everyone.
“Ouch,” he said then, for the first time noticing the wound Keith bore. “I did that, didn’t I? Ouch. I’ve been really dreadful.”
Slender fingers touched Keith’s shoulder. “Does it hurt very much?”

“No, it does not hurt much. I’ve had worse before.”
Yeah. Like the beating which the charming young lord Seoras gave me for example. And all the beatings and fucks before that.

Grahame’s fingers found a dark scar and followed it, tracing over Keith’s shoulder unto his back. He appeared confused, when his fingers met more and more of… What was that?
He took a sidestep and a glance at Keith’s backside. His mouth fell a little opened.
“What the…? Who the fuck did THAT?!” he demanded.

Nothing special there, prince, Keith thought. Nothing special there. Just welts. Just the reminder of a pain. But for some reason having Grahame’s fingers there felt…not bad. Not disgusting, because he was not being pawed, but just…not bad.
“That was young lord Seoras,” Keith replied quietly. “I serviced him.”

“Serviced him?”
Bright grey eyes peered intently into Keith’s greens.
“In what way? Oh, you mean you were his valet before becoming Lord Kester’s?”

Did he really not know what Keith meant by it? All right. He would have to tell him and risk with ruining everything, but there was nothing he could do about it.
“I was not his valet. I was requested to offer sexual services and so I complied. As you know, some are into more deviant practices in bed.”

Grey eyes grew wider.
“Sexual services?…” A bit of silence. “Oh. I see. I…understand. And he whipped you. Like that. Why did you comply? I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer. That was very rude of me… I guess.”

“One does not say no to someone higher than they,” Keith replied.
I’ll be laughing when I push him off the tower. Oh yes, I will be. A whore and a killer. A liar, my dear prince.

Grahame nodded.
“That is true. Nobody has said “no” to mother. Nobody has said “no” to her and lived very long, at least. Yes.”
His eyes appeared dark and his posture very grim.

Keith remained silent. He had nothing more to say. He was just so very much confused and he himself did not even know why. Grahame appeared as if he almost…cared. But no. That is a stupid thought, Keith. Bury it far far away and hope it dies. Yes. Exactly like that.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asked after some time.

“Yes. Go to sleep. Try to forget what you saw and heard. But thank you.”
Grahame brushed a hand over Keith’s cheek. It burnt.

Keith shivered a little under those piercing eyes. Must have been the cold. And then he shivered again when he was touched. He was going a little mad. Must have been the lack of sleep.
“I said that you were welcome,” he replied softly. “I will not speak of it.”

“Good night, Keith,” Grahame whispered. “Good night.”
He cocked his head, and left quietly. Outside, an early cock crew.

“Good night,” Keith whispered after the prince, as he left.
Only moments later he got undressed and crawled into the bed. He would have thought on what had happened, but he was too tired for that. So he just slept.

World was yet twilight when Lord Kester returned and slumped into bed without even getting his clothes or boots off. And then he slept, too. An early morning maid knocked, but no one answered. By afternoon Lord Kester came to some life, though, yawning and twitching before he woke.

Keith slept the whole time protectively curled up. So tired. So damnably tired that this time there were not even any nightmares.

Lord Kester but sighed, and let him sleep. Called a servant to help him get dressed, ate and left Keith with a note that he’d gone to participate in some royal hunting game.
But as he left, another shadow slipped inside and locked the door.
Aodh gazed over the room, and then just sat into the armchair, eyes softly on the bed. Waiting.

Keith stirred some time after Aodh had come in. Slowly he woke and looked around. At first he was surprised to see Kester gone, but then he saw the note. And then he also saw Aodh.
“It is not morning anymore, right?” Keith asked him quietly.

Aodh shook his head.
“You are right about that. It is past noon. Most of the nobles are out on the royal hunting game. Chasing some poor fox. I faked a terrible headache and remained behind. I brought some herb lotion for you. How are you? Pardon my expression, but you look like shit.”

“Oh, thanks,” Keith said and sniggered. But it was not a mean snigger.
“Well…I had a run-in with prince Grahame. He came and woke me up after I had fallen asleep. Wanted to take Kester to the Queen, but as he was not here, the prince decided to take me instead. But he decided that he would not. Then he cut himself. He managed to cut me too, because he got angry when I called him his highness and stuff. But then he came back, said he was sorry and I well…tried to do what you had told me to do. Attempt that friend thing.
I don’t know if it worked. He looked very much out of his mind. And that is about it.”

Aodh nodded.
“At least I know why. You see, as I heard from my sources - and well, it was a pretty open topic last night in the royal chambers - that last evening Queen Beathag summoned prince Fingall, prince Grahame and princess Lindsie to her chambers and told them she has meant to marry them off and yet within the three months. That would be Lindsie in the end of the current month, then Grahame and finally Fingall.
There are also rumours that the Queen has chosen a new king, but who would it be, I couldn’t find out. Not any of her current and present lovers, that much is certain.”

“Shit,” Keith said. “We have to move quickly then. If…you know what might need to be done. Kester.” And no surprise why the prince had been so messed up. No surprise indeed.

Aodh nodded and came to sit on the bed by Keith’s side. But his voice was still a lowered whisper.
“That we must. You will have to begin with the Queen as soon as possible. Which means within few days time, because that is the time it takes to make you new clothes. If you manage to get up and eat, I will take you to the tailors. For the time being, there is a fresh set from my own wardrobe on the table.”
His hand traced over Keith’s shoulder, he cocked his head and kissed the fresh wound.

“I can get up, yes…” Keith said, but trailed off when Aodh’s lips brushed over his wound. Oh, how wrong it was. Oh, how good it was. He mewled and pressed himself closer, already hard.

Aodh grinned.
“You owe me something, Keith. Remember?”

“Indeed,” Keith whispered and grinned back.
He found himself actually looking forward to it for some strange reason. It was Aodh. That was reason enough.

“Now, as to the lotion…”
Aodh placed it beside them, but didn’t touch it just yet. Instead his lips closed around Keith’s right nipple.

“You don’t need to drive me insane, I already am,” Keith said and sighed in pleasure.
He did not need to justify it to anyone. They were kindred and thus they could partake of each other, whether it be body or soul. Yes. That was all the justifying he needed.

Aodh lifted his head a bit.
“Isn’t there always room for a little more?”
He blew hot breath over the nipple, first one, then the other, licked around, licked over, sucked and even bit into them.

“Aahh…”
Keith moaned and his fingers slipped into Aodh’s hair, while he pressed himself closer once more.

“I take it you like it,” Aodh smirked, kisses trailing randomly over Keith’s body. Then he took the lotion. Cool droplets fell upon hot skin. Warm fingers began to smear it all over Keith, and it wasn’t just about the welts, it was about… fondling. Teasing. Rubbing here and there, not just the intimate parts but everything. Anything.

“That…that is an understatement…” Keith managed to get out before he let himself go and just enjoyed. How…how had Aodh managed to unlock him so quickly? How was it possible that a mere kiss made him needy and wanting?

“Good,” Aodh whispered. A simple reply and nothing more. Just kisses and soft hands along with cool mint scented lotion. Aodh licking Keith’s neck, running tongue over erect nipples again, going lower, hands in constant movement, stroking member, gently squeezing the balls, and then gliding fingers down the crack. Not inside, but teasing, rubbing over and over again, poking and flirting with it.

It was just so impossibly good. Keith arched towards all those touches, eyes wide and dark with lust. “What…what have…oh yes…please…” He wanted it inside. He wanted to have Aodh inside him once more. He…found himself aching.

Aodh kissed him.
“What was that? Tell me. What do you want? What do you want? Tell me and I shall give it to you. Anything, Keith.”

“What have you done to me?” Keith asked. “Pleasure is so easy and simple in your arms, how is it…how is it possible?” Yes. More of these kisses, please.

“I do not know,” Aodh answered. “I just know that I request nothing from you which you wouldn’t give to me willingly, and I give to you all that I have. You are the dagger, I am the sheathe. In dark, we are one.”