A/N: I wrote these shorts as part of (another) Tumblr writing game. As usual, they're very silly, so beware... and enjoy!
Under the Table
Being a lord had many downsides, but the long, boring meetings with other rulers was certainly one of the greatest. It wouldn't be so bad if they simply sat down and resolved matters quickly, but with nobles, everything had to be delivered in long-winded, pompous speeches, filled with words whose meaning Asbel could only guess. It was often a struggle to remain awake through the whole ordeal.
Fortunately, the current meeting had quite a perk: Richard was in it.
It was far easier to stand Duke Fabre's endless monologue about… Asbel was no longer sure what, when he could slip occasional glances at Richard. And, somehow, Richard always seemed to be looking back at him. Asbel wondered if he was paying any attention to Fabre's speech, but Richard's occasional - and insightful - remarks proved his diligence. Yes, his king was truly amazing.
Asbel had been trying to focus back on the meeting when something rubbing against his calf claimed his attention. At first, he wondered if a cat had slipped into the room - were there even cats in the castle? - but the rubbing moved to the back of his knees, almost as if teasing him. Immediately, he turned to Richard, and the playful smile on his lips explained everything. He was…!
Feeling his cheeks redden, Asbel stared back at Richard, trying to silently request him to stop. Not that he didn't enjoy the caresses, but… he was already struggling to pay attention to Duke Fabre's speech, and Richard's foot on his leg didn't help one bit. In reply, Richard's smile widened, and he tilted his head slightly to one side, resting it on the back of his hand. His foot now brushed Asbel's inner thigh.
Obviously his attempt at sending a message failed, or Richard simply chose to ignore it. Asbel considered glaring again, or closing his legs to shoo Richard's foot away, but… well, to put it simply, he was enjoying it considerably more than Fabre's dull lecture. Maybe enjoying it a bit too much; he was in a meeting, after all. But hey, if the king himself was the one touching him, who was he to complain?
Richard's foot descended to his calf, caressing the back of it slowly, only to climb again to his inner thigh. He rubbed it so softly it felt like butterfly touches, often moving dangerously close to Asbel's groin. Asbel's heart fluttered madly, and he had to bite his lip to make sure he wouldn't let out any suspicious sound. Looking at Richard's face only made it worse; he sported the most suggestive of smiles, as if promising what would happen later, when they were alone. It made Asbel's cheeks burn.
Deciding he wanted to reciprocate, Asbel moved a foot towards Richard's legs. Brushing it against Richard's calf had no effect on him, however. For a moment, Asbel was confused, and then he remembered Richard's boots. Of course he wouldn't feel anything through them! Well, he'd have to go straight for Richard's thighs, then.
He raised his leg further, feeling Richard's knees part for him. The mental image gave Asbel a thrill. He considered trailing his way up from Richard's knees, but his boots covered that, too, so it was better to touch his thigh first. His inner thigh, of course. And it would have to be close to his groin, since those boots went pretty high up.
Once he deemed himself ready, Asbel reached out with his foot.
And Richard yelped.
The entire room grew silent. Even Duke Fabre, who loved the sound of his own voice, stopped speaking. Every pair of eyes was on the king, who had just uttered the most undignified sound for no apparent reason.
And only then did Asbel realize he made a slight miscalculation. His foot wasn't against Richard's thigh. Instead, it pressed - quite strong - on Richard crotch.
Withdrawing it quickly, Asbel steadied himself, trying to appear innocent. Richard did the same, switching to such a controlled expression no one would believe he had been wide-eyed just moments before.
"Is there something wrong, Your Majesty?" Duke Fabre asked, with a tone a tad too dry for addressing his king.
With all the calm in the world, Richard turned to him, his lips curving into a reassuring smile. "Do forgive me for this interruption, but there is nothing to fret about. It seems a cat has slipped inside the room, and I was merely surprised when it suddenly jumped on my lap."
"I see no cat," Fabre retorted, raising an eyebrow, and then quickly adding, "Your Majesty."
"Yes, it seems the feline has escaped and hidden somewhere," Richard replied in that same steady tone. "But we should not be interrupting our meeting to search for a pet, should we?"
"I suppose not," Fabre conceded, eyes narrowing. "I was unaware you had a fondness for cats, Your Majesty."
"Oh, my dear duke," Richard said, smiling brightly as his eyes flickered to Asbel. "You would be surprised at some of the things I have a fondness for."