It was late morning when Louis woke up, judging by the beams of sunlight that leaked in through tiny cracks in the walls and the faint calls of the vegetable sellers outside. Harry was still asleep in his arms, his features slack and peaceful. The dim light formed a halo around his tousled curls, making him look some sort of luminescent angel, out of place in this dank basement. Louis thought about the prince’s sheltered upbringing – no, sheltered was an understatement; the boy had been a lifelong prisoner – and he marveled at the amount of sheer courage and determination it must have taken for Harry to escape from the tower, infiltrate the castle and rescue Louis. No one had ever shown this degree of concern and sacrifice for Louis’s well-being and frankly, it was overwhelming, and scary, and not quite how he imagined being in love felt like. He couldn’t help but brush the hair away from the sleeping boy’s forehead and let his lips linger there. The touch roused the other boy.
“Hi,” he murmured sleepily.
“Good morning,” said Louis. He sat up gingerly, feeling like he was ninety years old from the way his bones creaked and his bruised muscles screamed in protest at the movement.
“I’ve had worse injuries,” he said quickly, seeing Harry’s distraught expression. “Betsy’s thrown me out of her saddle a fair few times when she was a hot-tempered young filly.”
“Sweet, gentle Betsy?” Harry said disbelievingly, “she’s a perfect darling to me.”
Louis snorted. “She probably sensed your innocence or something. Horses can smell it, you know.” He thumbed Harry’s nose playfully.
Harry ducked his head into the hollow of Louis’s neck. “Not so innocent anymore,” he murmured, and heard the rumble of Louis’s laugh.
Louis traced the line of his spine and down the cleft of Harry’s arse, feeling the residual stickiness there. Harry wriggled against his hand. “Feels sore there,” he gasped.
Louis’s stomach clenched in sudden arousal. He pressed his fingers more firmly to Harry’s hole. “Would you like me to kiss it better?” He licked the tip of his tongue between Harry’s lips in a dirty simulation of exactly how he might kiss it better.
Harry moaned, cock hardening against Louis’s thigh. His face was pink, eyes screwed shut as though he didn’t know whether to say yes or no. It was utterly endearing. They rocked against each other gently, not awake enough to do much else.
There was a creak of hinges above their heads and a bright stream of light filtered into the basement. “Rise and shine, lads!” Liam’s face appeared over the edge of the latch door. His eyes widened when he caught sight of the intimate tangle of Harry and Louis’s nude bodies and he quickly withdrew, yelling, “Take as much time as you need!”
Harry curled up into Louis’s side in mortification while the older boy collapsed into laughter. The mood ruined by Liam’s untimely interruption, they dressed quickly and climbed the ladder out of the basement. Liam and Zayn were sitting at the kitchen table, eyes puffy, leaning sleepily over bowls of porridge and loaves of bread. Harry and Louis joined them and attacked their breakfast with gusto, neither of them having eaten since noon the day before.
“Where’s Paul?” asked Louis with his mouth full.
“Making deliveries to the palace. He also said that he will try to scout around for any news there about your breakout,” replied Liam.
“We barely got any sleep last night,” Zayn yawned, almost nodding off into his bowl. “The palace guards came knocking three times throughout the night. Three times!”
“We didn’t sleep much either,” said Louis, shooting a wicked glance at Harry.
“You want to tell us why you’re the most wanted person in Alluria right now?” Liam asked him.
In between bites of bread, Louis pieced together the whole story, tactfully skimming over the racier bits. Harry remained silent, until it came time to narrate his side of the story after Louis’s capture, at which point Louis was just as interested as the other two to hear about how he and Niall broke into the dungeons. Liam and Zayn listened with increasing incredulity, eyes flickering between Harry and Louis.
“… I figured that Paul’s was the safest place for us to pass the night, so here we are now,” finished Louis.
There was a moment of silence while Liam and Zayn absorbed everything.
“I still can’t believe that you’re the prince who’s been hidden from the world for eighteen years,” said Liam in amazement.
“But you’re so normal,” observed Zayn, staring at Harry.
“Well, I never really thought of myself as a prince,” Harry began modestly.
“—more like a princess,” added Louis. Harry jabbed him in the ribs, putting his newfound reflexes to good use.
“Ow!” cried Louis, but there was an approving glint in his eyes. “That’s all right, you’re myprincess,” he cooed. With that, he brushed a bread crumb from the corner of Harry’s mouth and kissed him thoroughly, until Liam coughed pointedly and Harry learned that it was not, in fact, generally acceptable behavior to hump one’s lover at the breakfast table.
“What about you two?” Harry asked, eager to know more about Liam and Zayn. “Are you Paul’s assistants?”
“You could say that,” replied Zayn. “Paul likes to call us his lost boys.”
“Why? Are you lost?” Harry asked, befuddled.
Liam laughed. “Zayn and I both used to work inside the castle as apprentices: I to a cook, and Zayn was apprenticed to the court magician. That was, until we committed unforgivable offenses that resulted in our banishment from the castle.”
“What did you do?” Harry inquired, intrigued.
“I was doing my rounds one day, delivering potions and remedies for my master, when I accidentally swapped Lord Asperger’s cough medicine for Essence of Toad,” Zayn recounted. “You can imagine that the croaking didn’t help the Lord’s social ineptitude. He insisted on my banishment.”
“I made the mistake of teaching myself to read and write. I wanted to be a scribe, you see, but that wasn’t allowed for a lowly kitchen boy. When my master found out, he reported me to the king,” Liam said bitterly.
“That’s hardly fair!” Harry bristled. “So now you work for Paul?”
“Being banished means that not only were we forced to leave the castle, but we were also blacklisted in the royal archives so that no master or establishment would ever hire us,” explained Zayn, “but Louis persuaded Paul to take us in. He finds odd jobs for us – the occasional commoner who needs a letter read or an infection treated – and he provides us room and board.”
“And a family,” Liam smiled at Zayn.
“How about you, Louis?” Harry asked curiously. “How do you know Paul?”
“My parents passed away when I was a baby. Paul took me in and looked after me until I was old enough to find a job in the royal stables. Still looks after me,” said Louis, eyes overly bright. “He’s a good man, one of the best I’ve known.”
“Glad to know I’m appreciated,” came a gruff voice from the doorway. The man himself entered, and the boys rushed to take his cloak and pull up a chair for him at the table.
“What news from the palace?” Louis asked urgently.
“It’s not good,” Paul began ominously, and all four boys leaned closer in fearful anticipation. “First of all, the entire castle is in bedlam. Apparently King Simon has secluded himself in his chambers, permitting no one to enter. The palace guards have postponed their search for you until they receive further instructions,” he nodded towards Louis.
“That’s great!” Louis exclaimed. “This means Harry and I have a better chance of escaping the town undetected.
Paul held up a hand. “Wait, there’s more – Niall has been arrested.”
“What?!” all four boys exclaimed.
“Oh no, It’s my fault!” gasped Harry, clapping his hand to his mouth in horror.
“On what charges?” Liam demanded.
“Here’s the strange part,” said Paul, rubbing his beard and frowning, “The guard I talked to couldn’t give me any details, except to say that Niall isn’t being kept in the dungeons. King Simon requested that the boy be sent directly to his room. The guard said the king most likely wanted to mete out his special brand of punishment. Thought it was amusing, that bastard.” Paul had a look of disgust on his face.
“But why? Why would my father do that?” Harry asked, more worried than ever about Niall’s fate.
“Your guess is as good as mine. Rumor has it that the king has been acting most peculiar lately. Manic. On edge,” added Paul.
“Louis,” Liam said, frowning, “When is Niall’s birthday?”
“His eighteenth is not for another two months,” replied Louis in puzzlement. “Why do you ask?”
“The facts don’t really fit, and this is just speculation …” said Liam tentatively, “but do you think King Simon found a replacement for Harry? For the demon pact?”
There was a horrified silence as Liam’s words sank in. Then they all spoke at once.
“How would the king know –” began Louis.
“But Niall’s not turning eighteen yet –” said Harry
“It’s quite possible actually,” said Zayn. They all looked at him.
“What demon pact? What are you talking about?” said Paul in bewilderment.
They quickly explained the situation to Paul, then looked to Zayn for clarification. “From what I’ve studied about demon pacts, they are quite binding,” said the dark-haired boy. “Power granted by a demon always requires a sacrifice, which was supposed to be Harry. Once Harry proved no longer useful, the king had to find an equitable replacement. As his personal manservant, Niall is the most obvious and available option. The king is taking a risk, certainly, for Niall has not yet come of age, but if he doesn’t offer a virgin sacrifice, he would have to forfeit his own soul to the demon.”
“But if King Simon could use any seventeen-year-old virgin as a demon sacrifice, why go to all the trouble to raise Harry and keep him locked up for eighteen years?” demanded Louis.
“This kind of dark magic works best when there is blood relation,” Zayn explained patiently. “By giving up Harry, his own flesh and blood, the king will gain the greatest amount of power. Also, “virgin” refers not only to sins of the flesh, but includes any kind of sin, which is why the king felt the need to completely isolate Harry from the corrupt influences of the outside world.”
“So the reason he is using Niall right now is because he’s desperate; he needs to protect his own soul from the demon that he summoned,” concluded Liam.
“Exactly,” said Zayn.
“Whatever the reason, we need to rescue Niall!” cried Harry, standing up. “I should go – I owe him.”
“If you think I’m letting you break into the castle again by yourself, then you’re not as smart as I thought,” Louis said, standing up as well and crossing his arms against his chest. “I’m going with you.”
“We’re Niall’s friends too,” said Liam, his stubborn expression brooking no argument from either of them. “We’re coming as well.” Zayn nodded in agreement.
“Before you boys go storming up to the castle, I should warn you that security is tighter than ever,” interrupted Paul. “You won’t be able to get through the gates, not when one of you is a fugitive and two are blacklisted.”
They fell into a somber silence. Then —
“I have a plan,” said Harry.
“This actually feels quite nice against my skin,” said Louis, admiring how the green silk dress complimented his svelte figure and the color of his eyes. “Now I understand why you like wearing them so much.”
“My balls itch. Do we have to wear these frilly knickers?” complained Zayn, standing with his legs apart and scratching his crotch in a most unladylike manner.
“Stop that,” ordered Harry, who wore his favorite periwinkle blue dress with ruffles down the front. “We must play our part perfectly. Also, I think you should shave your beard.”
“There’s no need,” Zayn said dismissively. He grabbed a veil and wrapped it around his face so that it covered his nose, mouth and scruffy chin, exposing only his dark eyes and long lashes. He actually looked very much like an exotic and beautiful eastern princess, Harry thought with a slight twinge of envy.
They made for a strange trio, standing in a circle in Paul’s kitchen and dressed to the nines in Harry’s gowns. They surveyed each other, and, despite the gravity of the situation, promptly broke down into hysterical laughter.
“W-We’ll never be able to p-pull this off –” Louis gasped, doubled over and trying to breathe.
“Nonsense,” tutted Harry, “here –” He grabbed two rolls of bread from the table and stuffed them down the front of Louis’s dress. “Now all the men will be too busy ogling your chest to look at your face.”
Zayn laughed so hard that tears were streaming down his cheeks while Louis played with his fake breasts inquisitively, and that was how Liam found them when he came back into the house.
“Whoa,” he said, eyes widening and cheeks reddening. He was wearing his best and cleanest clothes, onto which Harry had sewn an official-looking insignia. His chin sported an impressive auburn beard fashioned out of horsehair and he was holding a rolled-up piece of parchment in one hand. “All ready to go then, my ladies?”
They traipsed out of Paul’s house, drawing many curious looks from passers-by. Paul had ordered a horse-drawn carriage and into it Harry, Louis and Zayn climbed, while Liam sat at the front to take the reins. The ride up to the castle was tense and silent. Harry gripped Louis’s hand so tightly that it must have hurt, but the other boy did not complain. He was not looking forward to another confrontation with his father, but he had known, deep in his heart, that escape was not the answer. Silently, he whispered an apology to Niall, hoping that they wouldn’t be too late.
Presently, their carriage arrived at the castle gates, where it was promptly barricaded by a heavily-armored guard. Liam hopped off and presented the document which he had forged that morning.
“I must inspect your wares,” they heard the gate-keeper say.
“Don’t speak, just smile and look pretty,” whispered Harry, before the carriage curtain was roughly drawn aside and the guard peered in. The three “ladies” smiled back at him courteously. Zayn batted his eyelashes and Louis puffed out his enhanced bosom.
“As you can see, sir, these are special guests of the king himself, arrived just yesterday from the Eastern Isles. They’re a gift from our King Priapus, who holds King Simon in the highest esteem.” They heard Liam explain to the guard, his voice cracking a little in nervousness.
“Let me see that seal again.”
Liam handed him the parchment once more, which the guard perused with great concentration, despite the fact that he obviously could not read, for he was holding it upside down.
“King Simon has given orders not to be disturbed today. I’m not entirely sure I trust this document.”
“Ah, but you see, these ladies are here specifically to keep the king company in his chambers so he won’t be – ah – lonely,” Liam said delicately.
“Well, the king does like ‘em young,” said the guard uncertainly. “I suppose there is no harm. You can go on.”
Harry released the breath that he had been holding as the carriage trundled across the drawbridge and into the castle. They stopped in the central courtyard and descended from the carriage. No one gave the three ladies and their male escort a second glance as they walked daintily in the direction of the king’s chambers.
“This is too easy,” whispered Liam as they entered the tower of the king’s residence unhindered. “No one is even stopping us.”
“It’s the power of appearance,” replied Harry. “The way you dress dictates people’s behavior towards you in court. No guard would dare question the motives of three well-dressed ladies taking a stroll in the courtyard.”
The two soldiers standing watch outside the king’s chamber, however, refused to budge.
“The king’s orders are not to let anyone enter,” they said stubbornly, automatically. There was no hostility in their voices, but their spears were raised and Harry knew it wouldn’t take much to provoke them.
“But the king also ordered that these ladies be delivered to him. See, it says that right here in this royal decree,” cried Liam, waving the parchment in their faces desperately.
“You must report to the Grand Advisor,” said one of the guards. “I will take you to him.”
No — they couldn’t afford to draw attention to themselves, Harry thought. He caught Louis’s eye and, as though arriving at a simultaneous decision, the two of them rushed up to the closest guard and tackled him. Louis knocked his spear out of his hands while Harry drove his fist into his face. The man staggered back, clutching his spurting nose and howling in pain.
“Some help over here, guys!”
Zayn and Liam were backed into a corner by the other armed guard. Without hesitation, Harry gathered up the folds of his dress and delivered a roundhouse kick straight to the man’s head. His aim was deadly. The guard’s eyes rolled back in his skull and he toppled over, knocked out cold. Harry then ran over to help Louis gag and tie up the first guard’s hands and feet.
“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Louis asked, dumbfounded.
“When you spend almost eighteen years of your life locked up in a tower with nothing to do, you have plenty of time to pick up a number of useful skills,” Harry said grimly.
Louis gaped. “I’m so turned on right now,” he said, blue eyes darkening.
Harry smiled back, a promise in his eyes. “All the more motivation for us to get out of here alive.”
They kicked down the door and entered the king’s chamber. It was empty.
“He must be in there,” said Louis, pointing to the tapestry on the wall behind which was the entrance to the forbidden room that Niall had told him about. However, the door was made of black obsidian and refused to budge, no matter how hard they rammed it.
“Harry, give me a hairpin,” Louis said impatiently. Harry handed him one of the many that he kept on his body at all times. Louis fiddled with the key hole for a long moment until finally, there was a tiny click!
“When you spend almost twenty years of your life slacking off instead of doing proper work, I suppose you have plenty of time to pick up a number of useful skills as well,” Zayn remarked mildly, but looked impressed despite himself.
As soon as they cracked open the door, a blinding red light emanated from within the room. Everything was doused in the eerie, sanguine light and it took a moment for Harry to focus his eyes and make out three figures: his father, sitting on the floor, face screwed up in concentration; the demon, whose ghastly presence filled the entire room; and Niall.
“Niall – no!” The blond boy looked tiny and frail as he lay naked and eagle-spread on the floor, his head and limbs aligned with the five points of the pentagram drawn on the floor beneath him. Zayn rushed over and tried to pull Niall out of the pentagram but the blond boy seemed to be glued to the spot. The demon hovered above his body, eyes gleaming with a wicked red light.
King Simon opened his eyes at the unexpected disturbance. A flash of startled anger crossed his eye when he caught sight of Harry and Louis. “You!” he snarled.
Louis crossed the room in two strides and slapped the king smartly across the face. “That’s for hurting Harry!” he yelled, and Harry would have thought it terribly gallant of him if they didn’t have the more pressing issue of how to deal with the demon, which was now dangerously close to Niall’s body.
“Call off the demon,” Harry cried, “Please don’t do this, Daddy, I’m sure we can find another way …” He knelt down in front of his father, trying to invoke the small part of the king that might listen to his son. King Simon’s face twisted in hatred and he spat in Harry’s face. Harry recoiled.
"You can’t help him anymore," he laughed. There was a mad light in the king’s eyes and he didn’t bother to struggle when Liam and Louis pinned his arms behind his back. "He belongs to Akaroth now!" Harry searched his face desperately but there remained not a shadow of the father he once loved so much.
"No," he whispered helplessly as the demon descended upon Niall’s immobile body. It was over … They were too late …
"Argh!" Zayn threw his body over Niall’s, as though he could shield the helpless boy. He thrust his hand into the folds of his dress and pulled out a handful of something that looked like grass, which he flung into the fireplace.
"Rosemary," gasped Louis, as some of the herbs caught on fire and disintegrated, the aromatic smell permeating the room. Akaroth the demon released a howl of anger, its evil red aura fluctuating like the embers of a dying flame. It twisted and turned in agony, perched in midair like an incarnation of some terrible nightmare. But it wasn’t enough; the demon slowly regained its deadly red glow, more incensed than ever at the unexpected counterattack.
With a curse, Zayn placed his hands over Niall’s heart, closed his eyes and started chanting in a low voice. A green glow appeared under Zayn’s palms and spread to the rest of their joined bodies. The rosemary was burning out, the scent dissipating. Akaroth the demon renewed its assault on its victim, but he couldn’t get within a meter of Niall’s body, as though there was a protective force surrounding the boy. Again and again, the demon battered against the invisible shield separating it from its prey.
"Louis!" Liam screamed, "Zayn is not going to hold out - we have to do something!" Zayn’s face was ashen and perspiration dripped down his face onto Niall’s naked body. Harry wracked his brains, but it seemed like demonology was a major hole in his studies. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Louis release his hold on King Simon and rush forward towards Akaroth.
No sooner had he take a step forward, when Akaroth gave an almighty roar and flew across the room to where King Simon was kneeling, an ungodly smile still stretched across his face.
"You foolish mortal! You have deprived me of my rightful due!" Akaroth screamed and, before the manic smile had even slipped off the king’s face, the demon flew right into his chest and out the other side. There was a blinding flash of light and the king burst into a million pieces of grey confetti.
When Harry opened his eyes, the room had turned back to its normal color.
"Well, that was anticlimactic," Louis blinked, shaking the king’s ashy remains out of his hair. Harry flung himself into the older boy’s arms. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he could wait to find out. They were alive and that was the important thing.
"What happened? What did you do, Zayn?" Liam said in a hushed voice, looking shell shocked. "I didn’t know you were versed in demon magic."
"I’m not," Zayn said, appearing just as shaken. "Rosemary is a natural demon repellent; I took some before we left. As for the spell I placed on Niall, that was just a protective shield —" He looked down at the boy in his arms tenderly, "— a shield born out of love that demonic forces can’t penetrate. Akaroth must have given up on Niall and turned on the king instead."
"Why isn’t Niall waking up then?" asked Harry fearfully. "Is he —"
"He’s not dead," came a low, unearthly voice from a corner of the room. They all gasped and swiveled around. Akaroth was still there, but he was longer glowing red. In fact, he now seemed almost translucent and had shrunk down to human size. No wonder they hadn’t noticed him. Louis immediately wrapped his arms protectively around Harry.
The demon snorted. It was a peculiar sound. “I mean no harm to you or your friends.” He opened his mouth and released a loud burp. “Ugh, that tasted nasty.”
“You ate King Simon?” exclaimed Liam, aghast.
“I absorbed his soul,” corrected Akaroth. “He didn’t fulfill his end of the bargain to freely offer me a virgin sacrifice, so by rights of our pact, I took his soul.”
“So why are you still hanging around instead of going back to the demon world or wherever you came from?”
“Ever since King Simon summoned me from the spirit realm, I’ve spent the last eighteen years trapped in this mortal world. Now that I’m finally a free demon, I would like to thank you.”
“Thank us? Why?
“If you hadn’t interrupted the ritual, King Simon would have lived to summon more of my demon brethren to satisfy his unending thirst for power. That would have greatly disturbed the delicate balance between the mortal and spirit worlds. Thanks to your help, that did not come to pass. In order to express my gratitude, I will grant each of you a wish,” said Akaroth. He looked around at each of them in turn. “Think carefully.”
The demon turned first to Liam, who looked startled, but didn’t hesitate.
“I wish for my family to be well-provided for in this life, so that they will never worry for having food on the table, clothes on their backs and shelter over their heads,” he said resolutely.
Akaroth nodded. “A sensible choice.” He clapped his hands and Liam glowed blue momentarily. “Your wish has been granted.
It turned to Zayn next, who was still kneeling on the floor. Zayn looked down at the unconscious boy cradled in his lap. “I have seen and practiced many types of magic, but never have I experienced magic as strong and pure as love. I wish to find happiness with the love of my life.”
Akaroth smiled. “That may not be as far off as you imagine.” He clapped its hands again and Zayn glowed pink. “Your wish has been granted.”
Then came Louis’s turn. “I wish to be forever young,” said the blue-eyed boy.
Akaroth shook his head sadly. “Even my powers cannot reverse the slow but inevitable march towards old age and death. You have to make a different wish.”
“It was worth a try,” Louis shrugged. “All right, I’ve got one, but can I whisper it into your ear?”
Harry watched curiously as Louis walked up to the demon and spoke his wish in a low voice. Akaroth laughed. “That is within my power.” He clapped his hands once more and Louis glowed red. “Your wish has been granted.
“What did you wish for?” Harry asked him.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Louis said smugly.
Finally, it was the Harry’s turn. “What about you, Prince Harry? What does your heart desire?”
Harry thought deeply, then finally said, “My father the king is gone from this world. Men will fight amongst themselves to take his place, rendering the kingdom weak and vulnerable to foreign invasion. I am my father’s only child, but unknown to the people of Alluria. My wish is for them to recognize me as the rightful heir to the throne.”
Akaroth looked impressed. “A wise decision.” He clapped his hands one last time and Harry glowed golden. “Your wish has been granted. My work here is done and it is time for me to depart this world. Goodbye, friends.” With that, there was a burst of light so bright that the boys had to shield their eyes. When they could see again, Akaroth was gone, the only evidence of his existence the bits of grey confetti that littered the room.
“I suppose demons aren’t all bad,” remarked Liam.
There was a groan and Niall stirred from his position on the floor. They all crowded around him with happy cries.
“Why do you all get wishes and I don’t?” were the first words out of his mouth.
“What would you have wished for?” asked Harry. “Now that I am King, perhaps I can help make it come true.”
“I don’t want to be a virgin anymore,” the blond boy said pitifully.
“Oh,” said Harry, stumped by the request.
Thankfully, Zayn came to his rescue. “Perhaps I can make your wish come true,” he said to Niall, who blushed and nodded. Zayn wrapped a cloak around Niall and helped him to his feet. Harry smiled at the pair and turned to his own love.
“Louis,” he said, slipping his hand into the other boy’s, “would it be so bad, growing old, if we can do it together?”
“No, I suppose it’s not,” replied Louis, and they walked hand in hand out of the room and into a new chapter of their lives.
Akaroth was as good as his word. The people of Alluria welcomed Harry as their new ruler with open arms and the memory of King Simon’s reign faded into the footnotes of history. Once instated as king, Harry appointed Liam as the court scribe and Zayn as the royal magician (much to the chagrin of Lord Asperger). Niall was happy to remain in his old position as the king’s manservant, though he was more often found in Zayn’s workshop than in the king’s chambers.
Under Harry’s benevolent and wise rule, the kingdom entered a golden age. As Alluria’s prosperity grew, so did King Harry’s reputation. Presently, all the rulers of neighboring kingdoms began sending their children to Harry’s court, in the hope that one of their daughters or sons of marriageable age might catch the fancy of the beautiful young king and secure a valuable alliance with Alluria. Harry soon found himself spending more and more time entertaining these royal guests. He rather enjoyed their company and was always the picture of courtesy and charm towards his visitors. Louis, on the other hand, was less than amused at the constant stream of admirers vying for the king’s attention and he was not shy in voicing his objections …
“Why can’t they get it into their thick heads that the king has a fucking consort?” he growled, pushing Harry down onto his hands and knees and pulling his thighs apart so that Harry was lewdly displayed.
“May-maybe some of the kingdoms permit polygamy,” Harry gasped. It was obviously the wrong thing to say (or the right thing, depending on how you looked at it), for Louis delivered a stinging slap to his right buttock that made Harry bite into his arm in pain and arousal.
“I’ll show you polygamy,” Louis muttered darkly and pushed into Harry without warning, sinking all the way into Harry’s tight heat all in one go. Harry cried out despite himself, his arse convulsing to accommodate the sudden penetration. Louis didn’t even give him time to adjust before starting to move, working his cock into Harry in corkscrewing motions that made stars appear behind Harry’s eyelids. Oh, his lover was cruel, and Harry loved it.
“Don’t think I didn’t see you with her yesterday — Princess Cassandra — letting her hold your hand — touch your hair — kiss you on the cheek — the shameless bint!” Louis punctuated each phrase with a hard thrust that struck Harry’s sweet spot with deadly accuracy.
“Ah! Ah! But Lou-Louis!” Harry whined, trying hard to answer to his lover’s accusations despite the fact that it was becoming increasingly difficult to think. “Her father K-King Anthony is an important ally — I have to be c-courteous — oh Gods right there!” Louis gave a particularly hard thrust that made him fall onto his elbows so that he had to arch his back to keep his arse in the air. Harry loved this position: him on his knees and Louis pounding into him from behind. The angle allowed Louis to fuck so deep into him that he was always a mess afterwards, thighs quaking and sobbing quietly into the sheets.
“I don’t like the way she looks at you,” Louis bit out. Harry wanted to cry because he was pulling out completely, then inching his hips forward until just the flared head of his cock was inside Harry. Louis repeated the motion several times until Harry was dizzy from the sensory stimulation around his rim.
“Please, Lou, she-she’s only fourteen, please, please, I need …” Harry was moaning incoherently now, head buried in his arms. It might be undignified for a king to beg, but at this point Harry was just a needy boy desperate to be fucked hard.
“Fourteen or forty, I don’t care. You. Are. Mine,” Louis growled, the words sending a thrill down Harry’s spine. He pushed all the way back inside Harry and started pounding, so relentlessly that it was all Harry could do to claw his fingers into the silk sheets and hold on. Louis’s movements were becoming jerky and uncoordinated and Harry knew he was close, so he reached between his legs to stroke himself, coming so hard into his hand that he blacked out momentarily.
When he came back to, Louis had cleaned away the semen and excess lube running down the inside of his thighs and tossed the soiled cloth carelessly onto the floor (at times like this, Harry was excessively glad for his manservant’s discretion).
“D’you think the entire castle heard us?”
“Nah, I think just the guards outside. But Emon and Temon are used to it by now.” Harry stretched lazily, feline-like, feeling sore and well-used and content.
Louis lay down and tucked his naked body against Harry’s back. “Are you all right?” he asked, his eyes bright and warm. Harry’s heart clenched. No matter how many times they did this, no matter whether Louis was rough or gentle, he always asked this afterwards, as though Harry were still that untouched porcelain doll locked up in a tower.
“You’ve wrecked me,” Harry sighed dramatically. “I don’t know why I love you, you beast.”
“Probably because I’m the best lover in all the lands,” said Louis, smirking.
“Hmm, that you are,” agreed Harry. His aching body testified to that. Then, because Louis still needed the reassurance (the silly, dear, beloved boy), he said, “I am yours and no one can ever take me away from you. No prince, princess, king or demon. Don’t ever doubt that.”
Louis kissed the back of his neck, lips curving into a smile.
And they all lived happily ever after.
FIN
(In case it wasn’t clear, Louis’s wish was to “be the best lover in all the lands.”)
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Again, none of this was mine except the cover, so yeah, kudos goes to @alittlebitmorelarry on tumblr. Wow, this damn fanfic gets me everytime. I'm glad it's here now because I almost couldn't find it. So, if you liked it, don't come back. (see what I did there) no, but go like it on her tumblr. Maybe she'll come back idk. Regardless, thanks for reading this. Love you guys. ADIOS!