Chapter Text
Amir splashed cold water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror. He was fuming. He didn’t want to feel this way - he felt rediculous for the fact that getting his hopes up and then being let down over the matter of SEX could affect him so much. But the events of the day all seemed to come to a head and had left him here glaring at himself in the bathroom mirror.
Okay, so he wasn’t going to get the chance to give Rupert a blow job today. Okay so what? He could just jack himself off here by himself, release his sexual frustration, and then move on. Right?
But it wasn’t that. It wasn’t that antsy feeling he would get sometimes when he just needed to “clear the pipes”. It wasn’t even that he was feeling particularly horny. It was something else. He just wanted… Rupert.
He never would have imagined the enjoyment he would get from this sexual act. He remembered the way the other men in his training squadron would talk about their casual dalliances with women – the way they would describe “getting sucked off”. How there always seemed to be overtones of subjugating and overpowering the woman doing the “sucking.” Amir assumed from their gloating that it was an act their partners perhaps would rather not do but were somehow coerced into doing anyway. He felt sorry for these women. Honestly, at the time he could empathize! Who would want the sweaty dick of some dude who didn’t respect you in your MOUTH of all places? Disgusting. Clearly, if someone was giving a blow-job, they were not doing it because they chose to.
But here he was, on the other side. In a loving relationship with a man he absolutely trusted and who he knew had the utmost respect for him. And he got it. He understood how this sexual act - that the other men used as the litmus test of the submissiveness of their partners - could actually be a beautiful, enjoyable and even pleasurable experience for the person giving it. At least, it was for him.
He loved the feel of Rupert’s cock in his mouth, on his tongue, down his throat. The juxtaposition of the soft skin over the hard muscle underneath. He loved the way it tasted. The saltiness of pre-cum, the warm musk of just… Rupert. And okay yes, sometimes it was sweaty, but he liked those times too – when he would crowd Rupert up against the wall after a grueling training session in the yard, both of them tired from their excursions. He would grab Rupert by his strong wrists, drop to his knees and without further ado shove just enough of his clothing to the side to get him into his mouth. He never took his time in those encounters – training together always had a way of riling them up and it only ever took a few good sucks before Rupert was spilling down his throat. Amir loved that. Loved having the power to make Rupert squirm and cry out in extasy.
Other times he would take it slow. Amir loved that too. When neither of them was really “in control”. Rupert sitting on the edge of the bed, with Amir kneeling between his legs. Amir would get lost then. Lost in the feeling of Rupert filling his mouth, maybe not all the way hard, but soft and warm and undulating gently on his tongue. Lost in the feeling of Rupert’s thighs surrounding him, making him feel small and safe – he loved tilting his head ever so slightly to rest against the subtle scratch of the hair on Rupert’s leg. Lost in the smell of Rupert, as Amir buried his nose into the other prince’s pubic hair. Lost in the sounds Rupert would make and the way his body would tense and relax as Amir slowly moved his tongue or swallowed around Rupert.
And sometimes, Amir would let Rupert fuck his face. Those times he still had to take a moment to internally hang up his misconceptions of power and submissiveness in the bedroom, and the idea that taking on a certain role meant something about a person’s worth. Because this was not an act of aggression on Rupert’s part, and Amir was not a defenseless victim. He trusted Rupert, and sometimes he loved to let Rupert take the lead, make the decisions, and let himself feel… oh maybe just a little bit used… but in the best possible way. It only worked because of trust and respect. Rupert respected Amir and was not, in fact, using him (although, maybe they sometimes pretended otherwise) and Amir trusted Rupert and knew that while he was kneeling on the ground, head held steady in Rupert’s strong hands as his mouth and throat were absolutely pummeled as Rupert pumped into him, Amir could tap his lover’s thigh at any time and Rupert would stop immediately. It felt incredible to have that much trust in another person. To know that he could actually let himself go, let himself get absolutely lost in the chaotic pleasure, because he knew he could stop it at any time. He didn’t have to keep part of his brain active trying to think about anything. He could just. Let. Go.
Maybe that’s why Amir liked going down on Rupert so much, Amir thought as he made eye contact with himself in the mirror. Because he didn’t have to think. Didn’t have to strategize, or plan ahead. He could just get lost in the feeling of loving Rupert and making the person he loved most in this world feel good.
Oh, how Amir would love to go back in time, back to that training yard with those guffawing buffoons, and make them squirm with HIS blow-job stories.
Amir felt his body relax. He broke eye-contact with his reflection, and let his head hang for a moment. His frustration had faded. He loved Rupert and wanted to make him feel good, and maybe tonight he wouldn’t get to lose himself in it the way he would if they were making love, but he could go out there and support him while he supported his friend.
Amir looked around for a bathrobe or something so he could go back out and listen to Cecily’s trials and tribulations, but just as he was pulling a towel out of the cupboard, the door opened. The sight of his lover melted away any clinging remnants of Amir’s irritation.
“How’s Cecily?” Amir asked as Rupert closed the door and ran a hand over his own face.
“She’s fine. She’s gone.” Rupert responded, sighing and leaning back against the door. “I uh… I locked the door behind her.” Rupert said with a sparkle of mischief, and the hint of a question in his golden-brown eyes.
And just like that, the warm fondness Amir was feeling at the sight of his exasperated, rumpled partner turned to an ache in his stomach. He just needed Rupert's dick in his mouth, on his tongue, down his throat. He needed to taste it. He needed to swallow and feel it there. He needed to move his tongue and feel Rupert shudder. He needed to push his nose into Rupert's pubic hair and just feel completely lost and at home at the same time. He loved Rupert so much it hurts. He wished he could be touching him all the time. Wished he could envelop him so tight and close that their bodies merged into one, as if they could absorb each other and never have to be without the other again. He loved feeling of Rupert’s heart beating against the sensitive skin inside his mouth when he was getting close to orgasm. It made him feel like Rupert’s heart was beating inside Amir. Like their hearts were one.
“Rupert…” Amir choked, “I just need…”
“I know Amir. Me too. Come here.”
The click of a lock, the rustle of fabric, the soft thud of knees hitting the floor. All sounds heard by nobody but the princes themselves as they lost themselves in each other.
Epilogue:
The night was cool in the castle corridors as Cecily marched herself toward the front hall. Her talk with Rupert had been a good one. She couldn’t actually remember anything Rupert had said to her, but she had a fresh feeling of determination. She was going to go out and have a serious talk with Joan. Little did she know, that was not how this evening was going to go.
In an instant, as she opened the heavy oak doors to the grounds, the calm air around her changed.
Fire.
Hot, dry, acrid smoke hit her full in the face as she ran to see what was happening. A fire had broken out in the gardens. People were running amok. Without guidance or leadership, their fear was preventing them from doing anything useful. It was chaos.
Suddenly, a confident voice shouted “Everyone! Grab a bucket and form a line from the fountain!”
Percy Jr. was standing on the edge of the fountain, bucket of water in hand, calling out orders. And people listened. Soon a line started to form, as one person passed a bucketful of water to the next, hoping to drench the flames before they spread too far.
Cecily wanted to be useful too, she just wasn’t sure how.
“The princes!” Cecily shouted, “We need help! I’ll go get them!”
Cecily turned to run back the way she had just come, when Percy grabbed her by the collar.
“No need, Cecily, we got this.” Percy said, shoving a bucket of water at her. “Besides, I think the princes need a little time to themselves.”