All anyone knows of Alois Trancy is that he is bold. If he were to reveal his true nature, they would know he is jaded, broken, and his brazenness stems from it. They would know that he has tempted fate all the way to this brink of his own destruction and is intelligent enough to know this but foolish enough to not care.
This morning, Alois feels in the grip of that same such brazen foolishness and, since he is already given to flights of fancy, he indulges himself. Claude comes to him with magnificent tea, blueberry scones, and his attire for the day. Alois sits up in his bed, pushing blonde hair away from his eyes. He watches the slim lines of Claude's body as the demon moves to complete mundane tasks. Claude is always perfect in a way that humans could never be.
Then, when he is finished pouring tea and arranging the china, Claude turns to him. He is ready to tackle him. Alois thinks he might see a hint of resignation in Claude's gaze, but it isn't as if he doesn't know why. Alois knows he is Claude's biggest chore and that's something Alois has tried very hard to be. What reason is there for him to not be bratty from time to time?
Claude kneels at the edge of Alois's bed, his gaze both stoic and predatory at once as he says, "Good morning, Your Highness."
Alois doesn't suppress the shiver of pleasure and satisfaction that tumbles its way up his spine. "Good morning, Claude," Alois offers in response. His grin is wide and filthy for anyone, let alone a boy of his age and station. Again, Alois knows this.
He just doesn't care.
Wordlessly, Claude begins his task of making Alois look suitable for the day. Alois oft gives Claude a hard time of it, unsnapping recently snapped buttons or moving just out of reach so that Claude must gently, politely, and with apology, drag him back to the edge of the bed where he needs to be. Those are fun games, Alois admits, but today, he will enact what he's dreamt of.
When Claude moves to undo the buttons of his nightshirt, Alois reaches up to tangle his fingers into the soft collar of Claude's uniform. The fabric is crushed and wrinkled beneath his grip. Alois tugs, just once, to bring Claude on to the bed to hover above him. His head is bracketed by Claude's strong, unwavering arms.
"Yes?" is his demon's unruffled response.
Alois is giddy, almost beside himself with just having Claude at his command. Claude is always proper, even in compromising positions such as this. He loves this about Claude so dearly.
So dearly.
He would love to have the time to find a way to make Claude's perfection crack. He knows he doesn't, though, and that there's no way around it. That would be too many wishes granted in a lifetime. He tugs at Claude's collar again, but Claude's arms don't buckle to bring him closer. So he uses Claude's collar to lean up instead, claiming the demon's mouth for his own.
At first, Claude does nothing. A fraction of a second later, he senses the implicit order behind the press of his Alois's lips, so he yields to his young master. He lets Alois trace the contours of his mouth with his tongue, bite hungrily at his lips until they're swollen red. Then, when Alois is done and his inexperience forces him to task a gasping breath, Claude gives him his kiss back.
Alois's free hand presses into Claude's shoulder, somewhere between pushing him off and tightening to just hang on. He makes a noise that Claude all but completely swallows up. By the time Claude is finished with him, Alois is disheveled, trembling, and flushed all over. He looks as though he might come undone at any moment, but Claude knows better. He knows exactly what it would take to make Alois Trancy shake apart, and this is just a prelude to it.
Alois's fingers fall away from their hold on Claude. He takes another breath, then says, "Lie down," as though the request – or any of his requests for that matter – aren't odd. Claude does as he is told though, moving to arrange himself on the bed in a way that is least likely to muss his clothing. Alois climbs on top of Claude, draping himself across the demon's broad chest and settling his head into the crook between his neck and shoulder.
Claude can feel the warmth of Alois's breath as he next speaks. "Did you like the taste of me, Claude?"
Gold eyes slide to meet his and Alois can see there plainly what Claude normally hides.
"Yes, Your Highness, I did," Claude replies.
Alois drags his tongue across the patch of skin closest to his mouth. The binding seal on his tongue tingles. "Do you want to eat me now?"
This time, the smile is on Claude's lips and not in his eyes. His answer is slow, measured. "No, not yet. You will know when I am hungry."
Alois would like to pretend that the emotion he feels is fear, but he knows he can't hide from Claude. Why bother? It hardly makes a difference whether Claude knows or not. He wants Claude to devour him soon.
In every way the demon will see fit to do it.