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Living together was easy.
Rhaena had rolled her eyes and said that’s because they were still in their honeymoon period and that real life would hurt like a bitch when they start arguing about dirty underwear and dental appointments. Maybe. For now, at least, the whole thing feels like a stupendous dream of sex and affection. Luke can’t stop basking in it, everything rose pink and divine, although he suspects that they’ve put him on mute in the family group chat because only Joff has been responding to his texts.
Luke wakes up, and he spends an hour just lying in bed, feeling the cotton pull against the skin of his legs. He wakes up, and sometimes Aemond is still there, next to him, sleeping like the dead on his back, or facing the wall, the slope of his shoulders moving under the bedsheets as he breathes. Sometimes, Luke will walk around the whole of the flat, picking up things from the boxes heaped in the living room. It’s been three months but Luke has yet to unpack any of his clothing. The bedroom is kept sparse, Aemond says that clutter wreaks havoc on the sleep cycle, so it’s an overpriced bed with an equally overpriced Italian mattress, a built-in closet with clothes Luke doesn’t even wear anymore, a lamp and a sad drooping peace lily in a corner of the room.
These days Luke walks around the flat in Aemond’s old clothes, Gieves & Hawkes shirts, all black, studded leather jeans with rips in the knees, sometimes even his formal suits get a workout. Aemond has band shirts from when he’d had his rebellious moment, and one afternoon when Luke had been feeling a little creative, a little crazy, he’d fashioned these into tank tops, squatting on the living room floor and sawing the sleeves and bottom half off with a box cutter.
When Aemond got back from his workout, Luke was already in one of his shirts, fingering the hem that ended far above where he’d intended: three inches above the navel. He’d seen himself in the mirror that morning, barefoot and in denim shorts repurposed for the summer, riding up his thighs. The shorts were tight as much as the shirt was loose, the arm holes nearly as long as his forearms, the material thin enough to seem almost translucent. He looked ridiculous. Like a complete idiot. But Aemond didn’t seem to think so, crossing the hall in three long strides and tugging him forward by the hips. “My beautiful nephew,” he’d whispered, making Luke shiver to his toes. He’d smelled like clean sweat, tasted like the green juice he sometimes bought on the way back from his runs, and he kissed Luke with an urgency that made Luke feel like his bones were going to be sucked clean to the marrow.
Luke had loved that he’d grown as big as his uncle. Aemond was the tallest in the family but built totally different, he was all editorial, runway chic in a way that Luke had never hoped to aspire to as a horny teenager. The bragging rights were stupendous if only to occasionally flex on Jace and use his head as a leaning post the same way Aemond did when he’d first had his growth spurt. He’d liked the masses of hair that came too, for different reasons. The memories that he clung to of his dad were always about hair; the curls on his head, the scratch of a beard against Luke’s cheek, strong muscly arms, furry as anything, tossing Luke while he yelled higher higher… But there was something about the way Aemond held him that often made Luke feel small and protected, that filled him up with delirious affection, like air filling up a balloon. Aemond still looked at him the same way he had when they’d first got together, when Luke was younger and smaller and more deserving of that kind of thing. It had scared him at first, the rapid changes in his body, that they would make Aemond less keen, the more Luke looked like his father and less like his eighteen-year-old self. But the look became more heated and not less the more Luke grew, although he’d yet to understand the psychology behind Aemond’s interest. Whatever it was that look made Luke feel… wholly special and desired. Pretty. Like a small thing needing attention, something soft, fragile.
Aemond fucked him that morning on the unmade bed. Peeled off his shorts first, laughing at the lack of underwear, smiling a crooked smile, before turning Luke onto his front and spreading his knees out on the bed. Ate him out with a contented hmm that made Luke’s spine tremble with pleasure, and then fingered him viciously, two fingers slick with spit and lube, and then three, in and out and in, until Luke’s cock spat three stripes of come on the sheets, ruining them interminably.
Loose and malleable and nearly unconscious from his orgasm, Aemond entered him in one long thrust. Inch by slow inch until Luke’s thighs spread apart, shaking, and he clung desperately onto Aemond’s shoulders each time he was breached, their expensive bed swaying underneath him like an earthquake. Luke kept his eyes fixed to a spot on the ceiling, but soon his vision whitened out, and he was coming, coming so hard he could feel his insides tremble, the whole of his body going slack with bliss.
When he came back to himself, Aemond was cradling a mug of tea in his lap and checking his e-mail on his iPad, ramrod straight in bed, straining the eyesight in his remaining eye. The shorts were on the floor, the front button missing. When Luke rose from the bed to put some pants on, Aemond complained about Luke depriving him of the sight of his long legs and told him to leave it.
“Why?” Luke had asked. Aemond had simply shrugged one shoulder and smiled in answer.
Later, after lunch, Aemond fucked him again, bent over the sofa still covered in protective plastic, one hand pressed between his shoulder blades while the other gripped his hip. Luke, who had kept the shirt on the whole time, came when his nipples rubbed the scratchy material hard enough to hurt, panting into the skin of his arm as Aemond thrust and thrust.
It was a week later when Aemond caught him shaving his legs in the bathroom. Luke didn’t even hear him coming in, his leg propped up on the toilet seat, his airpods in, blaring music from his iPhone docked on the sink.
Aemond had thrown the door open, and then stopped, staring at the pink, plastic razor clutched in Luke’s hand.
Luke had nicked himself in surprise, and blood ran down his legs in tiny red rivers. Aemond grabbed a handful of toilet paper to stopper the flow, and as he knelt on tile, getting his fancy trousers wet, he squeezed Luke’s knee and asked him what the hell he thought he was doing.
“Shaving my legs,” Luke said, shrugging. “I want them to be smooth.” For you, Luke didn’t say, feeling as though it might further implicate him. There was that look again, in Aemond’s eye, dark and unreadable, and then he was taking the razor from Luke’s grip and motioning for him to sit on the edge of the tub. He washed the blood and hair off with a shower spray, then frowned at the cuts Luke made shaving, tracing the edges with his thumb. A few days later, he made an appointment, and they walked hand in hand to a waxing studio in Mayfair where Luke lay down on a comfortable white bed, as narrow as a gurney, and let women in surgical masks drizzle melted sugar on his bare legs and thighs.
They were thorough — but Aemond didn’t know the extent in which they were. He drove Luke home and they ate ramen on the kitchen counter, and didn’t talk about what the experience was like for Luke at all. All night, Luke waited for Aemond to touch him, for Aemond to undress him to be fucked, but Aemond remained seated on his end of the bed, one hand resting quietly on Luke’s knee as he read through a long, highlighted memorandum, his eye straining in the dim light again.
While Aemond slept, Luke locked himself in the bathroom and admired his hairless legs in the full-length mirror. He squatted on the floor of the tub and pressed his thumb below the hang of his balls where the skin was taut and newly smooth, still raw from waxing. He slid his finger all the way up the knuckle, shuddering as he drew it out and then pumped it back in.
Luke wore the shorts again the next day, sewing up the button in front, though this time, while Aemond was at a meeting, he stopped by Liberty’s to buy himself some lingerie. A joke, he told himself, something to surprise Aemond with and nothing more, but he lingered in the cosmetics section where small pots of creams and gel stood on display behind gleaming glass counters, frosted bottles arranged on an oval tray like a family posing for a photograph.
He bought a lipgloss for himself, embarrassed when a saleswoman approached him to ask whether he needed assistance. He spun the lipstick carousel, looking for that perfect shade of pink, daubed women’s perfume behind his ears like he’d seen his mother do, and took samples of every product at the counter, stuffing his bag with thimble-sized eye gels and moisturisers.
When he caught his own reflection in one of the angled mirrors lining the counter, Luke noticed his five o’clock shadow, and the thick curls he’d been too lazy to wash this morning. He was in need of a trim that Aemond vehemently opposed. He frowned and touched his jaw self-consciously, tilting his face this way and that. He'd be his father, if he took to the gym and worked up some muscle.
On his way out of the department store, he bought himself a new razor that promised a smooth, non-irritating glide. He didn’t feel safe taking the tube back to their flat, with bags full of delicate underthings, so he called a black cab instead.
Aemond’s meeting had run over time and he’d called to inform Luke not to wait up.
Luke didn’t have a problem with this, because it meant more time to himself, time he could spend alone, feeling himself out. He shaved himself everywhere, washed his hair a curl friendly conditioner, and rubbed vanilla-scented lotion on his arms and legs.
He tried the panties on first, walking around the flat testing the waters, laughing at himself and feeling utterly silly with his shirt hiked up to his ribs and his cock already half-hard in the soft material. But he looked good, both in satin and in lace, and in the cotton ruffled number that was really unnecessary, and even in the pair he’d bought on a lark: silly slogan underwear styled like an 80's camp porno. He liked the silk ones best, and he suspected they’d be more to Aemond’s taste, with delicate crepe ruffling and the thin black ribbon tying everything together at the hips.
He kept them on throughout the day, under his shorts, which he was surprised did not ruin them on account of how tight the denim was. And when Aemond came home, doffing his suit jacket at the door, Luke stood at the very end of the hall, one hip cocked to the side, the picture of perfect innocence with his feet completely bare and his face perfectly shaven, and his hair, just how Aemond liked it, loose curls framing his face. His lips were shiny with a sheen of gloss — just the barest hint of colour at the centre, like he’d sucked on a cherry popsicle that left the rest of his mouth red and wet.
And Luke loved how Aemond’s eye darkened, how he’d stopped mid-sentence to gape at Luke and swipe his tongue over his bottom lip before swallowing. “What are you —” He never got to finish, not after Luke smiled at him and lifted his cropped shirt to give him a better view of his stomach, the near-obvious outline of his ribs.
“You like it?” he teased, and turned to show him the rest: where the denim hiked up the back of his thighs and where the black ribbons peeked shyly above the loose waist of his shorts.
Aemond was silent for a moment. “I- like it,” he said, “Lucerys, come here” but Luke remained rooted to the spot, nipples hard under his cut-off shirt, cock thickening in his tiny denim shorts.
Aemond grabbed him as soon as he was within reach, pinning him to the wall where he began grinding his dick into Luke’s soft thigh, kissing him until he couldn’t breathe anymore or see straight or make a noise without swallowing Aemond’s air.
“I'm going to take you to bed,” Aemond grunted in between panting kisses. “I’m not going to come from just looking at you. Fuck —but look at you. How did you know I had the worst day until now?”
Luke laughed and let Aemond follow him to the bedroom where he propped himself on his elbows and let Aemond kiss him on each ankle. He shivered when Aemond began to press his face along his legs, working his way up Luke’s thighs, his own face nearly always smooth and hairless to match the smoothness of Luke’s skin.
“Pretty,” Aemond whispered as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of Luke’s knee, then the other. “Pretty, pretty, pretty.”
Luke bit his tongue to stop himself from coming when Aemond started unbuttoning his shorts. Aemond slid them off Luke’s legs one-handed, and breathed audibly when he saw what Luke had been wearing all along — they looked pitiful now, however, the fine lace front soaked with pre-come, the ruffles flattened, a ribbon undone.
Luke blushed and stammered out an excuse. About how he thought Aemond would like them, so he bought them, and how it had been nothing more than a whim, a joke. He had not been raised to be embarrassed when it came to sex, but he felt strangely vulnerable as he waited for Aemond to say something.
Aemond glanced up, and Luke shivered at the inscrutable look in his eye. His cock spat a bead of pre-come that left a visible wet spot in the lace and he blushed even harder.
How he loved it when Aemond looked at him like this; it made him feel adored though at the same time it frightened Luke to wonder what else Aemond thought about doing to him. He’d never hurt Luke despite what people thought, never intentionally anyway — but sometimes, sometimes Luke wanted the roughness, the violence that Aemond’s whole nature seemed to suggest. Aemond's gentleness with Luke was a contradiction that he fervently enjoyed but there were times he wanted Aemond to tie him up in handcuffs and leave him completely at his mercy, to ruin and make utterly his.
“Fuck,” Aemond swore, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You did this? All this? Lucerys, you’re so beautiful.” He ran his hands up the length of Luke’s legs, squeezing his calves, letting Luke’s spread legs bracket his sides.
“I need to see all of you — are you going to show me what else you’re hiding, nephew, or do I have to rip these panties off before you let me see your pink little cunt?”
Fuck. Luke shivered and bucked, whining when his hips met nothing but air. Aemond tended to get a little filthy when he was dying to fuck him. And there was something Luke tended to call him too, when they got like this, when they forgot all propriety, and it was just the two of them, playing their little game, caught up in the eddies of a shared fantasy. It was almost the next logical step, Luke thought, when fucking your uncle that you’d call him-
“Daddy,” Luke gasped, as Aemond nudged Luke’s legs apart and told him to keep his hands under his knees to hold himself open. Aemond’s hand was a hot brand on the skin of Luke’s thigh, and Luke whimpered when Aemond began peeling his panties off, one ribbon at a time. His precome had made the material near translucent, the silk completely soaked through. Luke would be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good to have Aemond unwrap him like a present, if Aemond didn’t praise him for looking so delightful and perfect in his crop top and nickers.
And then Aemond groaned, his eye fixed to where Luke was now newly bare and hairless, his hole dilating under Aemond’s questing thumb. “Fuck,” Aemond muttered. “Look at you.”Aemond stroked Luke’s hole, the pads of his fingers barely pushing inside before they were replaced with a deft tongue that made Luke leak harder against his belly.
“You taste so good,” Aemond breathed, spreading Luke open with his thumbs and licking a hot wet stripe along his rim. “Are you going to let Daddy fuck you, Luke? Princess? Open you up with his big cock?”
Luke whimpered, nodding, electricity singing up his spine at the nickname. It made him feel pretty, being called that. Princess. Like he was Aemond’s to cherish and protect, Aemond’s little treasure hidden away in a tower protected from monsters and dragons.
“Do you like that?” Aemond murmured. “You like it, when Daddy calls you that? Princess?”
“Y-yes, Daddy,” Luke panted. The word made him feel delicate, loved. Aemond forever the big bad wolf having his way. Aemond with a sword carving through anyone that dared touch what belonged to him. Aemond seating Luke on his huge cock while Luke wore his prettiest dress, riding him until he came and shot a big wet load inside his girl.
Aemond huffed, shaking his head. “Fuck,” he said, kissing Luke out of the blue. “Say if I go too far.” Then that was the last Luke got out of him because he shoved Luke’s thighs apart, nuzzling his hole, and pressing kisses to his sac before licking him clean. Aemond ate him out like a feast, groaning in his throat, biting at the skin of Luke’s thighs until Luke was coming from the sensation alone, from watching Aemond go to town on him like there wasn’t anything else he’d rather be doing.
When he finished, Aemond’s sharp jaw was shiny with spit and Luke’s thighs were aching, but he let Aemond haul him forward by the ankles until he felt the slippery head of Aemond’s cock nudge his hole. Aemond prepped him with only two fingers coated in lube, before he thrust in without any warning, fucking Luke until he was hard again and almost in tears from how good it felt taking Aemond’s cock.
“Daddy,” Luke groaned, flinging an arm over his face. He kept whimpering it over and over, not sure what he was asking for, his breath getting choppier and choppier each time Aemond slammed home and buried himself to the hilt.
“I'm not going to pull out of you tonight,” Aemond promised into his ear, “And you’re gonna love it, princess, and you’re gonna come from daddy just fucking your cunt like this, because daddy’s gonna fill you up with so much come. You want that, princess? I can feel your cunt tightening up for me, trembling. You feel so good, baby girl.”
“Daddy,” Luke whimpered again. There were tears in his eyes — he wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed at how hard Aemond’s promises were making him, or if he was delirious over how good it felt, getting pounded within an inch of his life. He was going to be so sore tomorrow, unable to stand without wincing or dripping Aemond’s come down his thighs. He was already making a mess of himself, leaking over his own belly in thick fat drops.
Aemond’s never fucked him like this before, and Luke felt like he was going to break any second, and it scared and thrilled Luke both at the same time. He wanted to come, and moved his hand to grab at his cock but Aemond pinned his wrists above his head, squeezing them hard enough to serve as a warning.
Aemond rolled his hips once, twice, making Luke whine like a puppy in pain, his entire body shuddering with the need to come, his cock painfully full.
“We’re going to have to get you used to getting coming from just getting fucked, princess,” Aemond said, running a finger down the side of Luke’s face, one broad hand gripping both of Luke’s wrists. “And that means no touching your pretty little cock.”
“Aemond—”
“Tell daddy what you want or he won’t give it to you,” Aemond said, slowing down his thrusts, driving Luke crazy.
Luke wanted to cry even harder for a number of reasons. He was red in the face, and snivelling, and his thighs hurt and his ass was so sore. And his cock was so painful, his balls so full, and there was nothing more he wanted than for Aemond to keep fucking him until he orgasmed.
“Daddy!” he cried out during a particularly deep thrust that made his eyes roll back in their sockets and his toes curl pleasantly.
“What was that?”
“I want you to fuck me,” Luke whined.
“I can’t hear you, baby girl, speak a little louder.”
“I— I want d-daddy to fuck me,” he moaned, in a voice that he knew Aemond liked best, soft and sweet. He shut his eyes, ashamed of himself, his ears suddenly hot. “Make me feel good, daddy. Cunt’s already so wet for you — wanna ride your big fucking dick until you knock me up.”
“Luke, come on-” Aemond groaned, almost breaking character. “Fuck. Don’t say shit like — get up for me.”
Aemond pulled out, one agonising movement that almost had Luke scrabbling to drag him back by the back of his legs, before rolling Luke gently on top of him, in his lap.
“Sit on my cock, come on, I want to watch you come,” said Aemond, his voice warmer now as he squeezed Luke’s hips.
Luke nodded, doing as he was told, and was about to shuck off his shirt when Aemond insisted he keep it.
“Take it in your teeth. I want to see you playing with your tits.”
Luke stared at him, and nodded again, though not until a beat later, lifting the hem of his cropped shirt and holding it between gritted teeth. He groaned when Aemond pushed his cock back inside him, and began squeezing his nipples in time with Aemond’s thrusts, rotating his hips, slow and hypnotic just so he could feel the hot drag of Aemond’s cock spreading him open.
“God, baby girl,” Aemond hissed, head thumping the pillows, gripping his hips harder. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re riding daddy’s cock. You like riding that cock?”
Luke couldn’t reply with his shirt in his mouth, so he nodded several times and started increasing his pace, fucking himself on Aemond hard enough to rock the bed.
Luke watched his cock leak lazily onto Aemond’s stomach as he rose in Aemond’s lap and met him halfway thrust for thrust, hiccuping through a throaty whine whenever Aemond nudged his prostate, whimpering at every downward cant of his hips. He kept Aemond buried fully inside him before rising up to his knees and bucking downward, and it didn’t take long before he was coming with a shout, crumpling forward into Aemond’s arms as Aemond caught him and buried his face into the side of Luke’s neck.
Aemond continued fucking him, steady and deep until he came too, filling Luke as he promised with the hot silky rush of his come. There seemed to be so much of it that Luke whimpered again, shuddering through the aftershocks as he gripped Aemond’s forearms. Afterwards, he felt strangely bereft, greedy of Aemond’s affection, cuddling up to him like a newborn kitten, peppering his face and chest with sloppy kisses.
Aemond ran his fingers down the length of Luke’s spine before graciously pulling out of him despite the promise not to, lowering Luke onto his back and kissing him long and slow.
When Aemond sat up again, he flung Luke’s panties off the bed and stripped Luke of his cropped shirt, before giving him a long pointed look, his eyebrows raised.
“You’d think the real-life incest was filthy enough,” he shook his head.
Luke felt almost offended, and then felt ashamed of himself, until Aemond laughed and swooped down to kiss him again, burying his hands in Luke’s hair and pulling him flush against his body, draped across his chest, all loose-limbed and giddy from his orgasm.
Luke shivered in delight, moaning as Aemond deepened the kiss until Luke could taste himself in his mouth.
“Seriously though, you’re beautiful,” Aemond murmured, letting Luke comb through blond strands with his fingernails. “And I love it, but you don’t need to- for me. You know that, right?”
Luke tried hard not to let his smile grow too big, though his heart had already swelled from the sentiment. He could feel the back of his neck prickling with warmth. “I know” he said in a small voice, scrunching his nose when Aemond pecked at it. “Maybe- it’s not for you.”
Aemond’s eye glittered darkly as he stroked Luke’s thigh. “What’s the guy’s name and address?”
“It’s a little for you,” Luke added. “But I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” He bit Aemond gently on the ear, feeling Aemond shiver against him.
“Hmm,” Aemond said thoughtfully. “Care to explain?”
Luke thinks about it but it’s not really that complicated. “I just want to feel pretty.”