Lovers Day
Lovers Day
Disclaimer: I do not own Fable or its characters.
Do you ever have one of those days that it seems like the weight of the world is bearing down hard on your shoulders, and the smallest thing out of place could send it out of balance and crashing down to your feet? I've been living that same kind of day for the past four years now. Ever since a very different, more vibrant me set off across shining vermillion seas filled with the youthful expectation of grandiose and adventure.
Carefree, alive, reckless and immature, and loved by his people.
But things are different now, they have to be if any of them were going to survive the encroaching nightmare that sat in the distance, waiting to descend with dark wings upon them all.
"This is my Albion..." I repeat the mantra that has grown so familiar to me over the last four years. It reminds me of my duty, strengthens my will to continue on this path I've chosen whenever I'm feeling sorely tested and weary. I run my hand over the finely polished mahogany wood trim of the table map as I've done so many times before, staring down at the replica of my beloved country. A little over six million people called Albion their home, and yet they knew nothing of what was to come. They could only see and hate the cruel tyrant pushing them to work harder, taxing them to near starvation and ruthlessly shooting down any who stood in his way.
I accept their hate. If that's what it took to save them, then so be it.
A soft noise across the room draws my attention. I look up and over to the immense double doors to see the handle attempting to turn, but stops as it butts up against the lock. Sighing, I shake my head and turn, walking to one of the tall wingback chairs sitting in front of the fireplace. They maids knew by now that trying to send up dinner when he was in the war room was futile, and yet they still persisted. Probably out of an undying sense of loyalty to my father, the great Hero King, more than out of any sort of concern for my own well being.
Sinking down in the cushioned chair, I rake a hand through disheveled brown locks, gazing sightlessly into the crackling fire. Whoever it was, was gone now, leaving me to my thoughts again. Picking up the goblet of wine from the side table adjacent to me, I drain it's content's quickly and replace it, not caring to savor the fine taste of the best money could buy. Soon I feel it's welcomed warmth spreading throughout my body and further intoxicating me. I'd spent all day in here drinking, only once leaving to take a light lunch.
It was Lover's Day, the day where all of the hopeless souls filled with their frivolous idea's of romanticism made fools of themselves with chocolate's and flowers, something I have no desire to see. The only person I truly cared for was now rebelling against me and only Avo know's where she was now.
I watch the tongue's of fire for what seems a small eternity as they dance and flicker, pondering over the accursed holiday. Not once since coming home and preparing for the inevitable attack the seer Theresa had warned me of had I taken a lover. All of my energy was focused on running and trying to defend Albion, with little left for myself. But tonight...
Reaching down, I palm myself roughly through my trousers, trying to appease the the arousal that had been increasing with each goblet of wine. The action only serves to further inflame my problem and a frustrated groan passes my lips, it was indeed happy for any attention at all.
Without a further thought I undo the latch of my belt, untie the laces of my pants and settle deeper back against the chair, just enough to where I could...
My hand just barely wraps itself around the hard length of myself when I hear the faintest of sounds, coming from the door again, and before anger at having someone dare disturb be twice can rise,
"MY my, what a lovely sight we have here."
I jerk upright, hastily pulling at the edges and ties of my pants to conceal myself from the owner of the voice.
"Reaver, what the hell are you doing here?" I shout. How had he gotten in? I'd made certain I was the only one with a key to this room, and yet there he stood, leaning up against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over one another and a cheshire smile on his face. I don't like the way his eyes are just now trailing back up to meet my own as I stand. Swaying on my feet, I can tell I've had too much too drink.
"Get out, now!"
"No need to shout, my good king. I will leave if you want me to." He says cryptically even as he steps further into the room, giving the door a light tap as he enters so that it swings shut softly behind him.
He isn't wearing his white coat nor his top hat, which is unusual, instead simply wearing white pants, with his gun at his side as always, and a brown vest over what looked like a short sleeved black satin shirt that showed off his, what I couldn't help but notice, well defined arms. He looked like he'd been busy making the round's already for this Lover's Day, with the way his black hair was a tousled mess upon his head, and yet it still managed to look stylish around that roguishly handsome face of his.
I balk at the odd observation, wondering why I would suddenly accredit the industrial tycoon, who despite being an immoral bastard and a man no less, as being attractive.
His catlike smile transforms into a wicked grin then, deep sapphire eyes glinting with something I'd rather not dwell upon, as if he could read my thoughts. His walk turns into a saunter as he draws closer.
"Well then it should be very much obvious that I want you to get out. Leave now before I have you shot." I say. I'm still angry, furious actually, at the intrusion of privacy and having my pleasure cut short, but it doesn't carry over into my voice as much as I would have liked. Hard to think when all of your blood is located in lower parts of your body, starving your mind.
Reaver laughs, a deeply amused, melodious sound that thrills a little piece of me somewhere inside. He definetly has a presence like no one else I've ever met that much was certain, like once he walked in a room everyone couldn't not notice him.
"Your mouth is telling me one thing, but another part of you is telling me quite another." He replies with a saucy wink and a charming smirk that causes a shiver to creep up my spine. Yes, definetly way too much to drink.
"What are you..." I begin to say, not understanding what he meant until he let his eyes flick down for a brief moment, then back up. I follow his hint and let my eyes wander down and find, to my horror, that in my haste I hadn't properly done my pants back up, belt hanging loosely at my side and the folds of clothe revealing my pulsing member.
Quickly I go to put it away but without a sound Reaver is there instantly, grabbing my wrists tightly, preventing me from doing what I had intended.
"What is the meaning of this." I growl, ignoring the unsteady skip my heart makes as a look up to curse him. Instead my lips run right into his as my head comes up, and I freeze, stunned.
He must have taken my stillness as consent because he was then crushing his lips to mine, wrapping one arm around my waist and the other come up to let his hand grab my long hair at the nape of my neck. I am shocked, outraged, revolted even but my legs are unsteady beneath me and with so much alcohol in my system I can barely think straight.
Reaver continues his barrage of artful kissing, and after a long minute of nipping and licking at my unwilling lips, much to my surprise, they seemed to part of their own accord and I could feel my tongue slipping out to meet his. This little action renewed his vigor and he pulls me even closer as our tongue's wetly slip and slide wonderfully against other. I shudder, this is wrong. So very, very wrong.
I think that even as I wrap my arms around him, and I can feel his own arousal inside his trousers pressing against mine. Our kisses turn brutal and fast, all consuming and he grinds his pelvis onto me and I moan from the delicious pressure and friction it causes.
Then suddenly I'm being pushed back down into the chair behind me, and with a skilled tug from Reaver my pants fall to my ankles before I even hit the cushion. Breathless and aroused to damningly impossible heights, I stare down at him as he settles himself down in between my legs. I need to say something, I need to make him leave, possibly have him hanged, but I can't say anything at all. I can only watch.
"Instead of asking what you can do for your country, I've found it's just better to ask what you're country can do for you." He laughs, and then his mouth is on me.
Hot and wet and velvet.
I moan, gripping the armrests and biting down on my bottom lip. He is skilled, beyond belief. I've never felt anything so good. Reaver teases and torments, nibbling at incredibly sensitive places I could have never guessed would feel like that, licking every inch of me, one hand fondling just underneath while his other undoubtedly pleasing himself. I couldn't tell, I'd closed my eyes. Too blinded by what was going on to see clearly, too ashamed.
It has been so long since I've been with someone I'm close to climax within minutes and a light sheen of sweat is clinging to my forehead. More moans come from me, and I can't help but rock my hips in rhythm with his oral ministrations. I open my eyes again and look down. His head is bowed and the firelight is gleaming off his lustrous black hair, and I sink my hands into it, wanting to feel the silky tresses against my skin. I grip it and cradle his head gently, and as I finally reach my limit I begin to buck wildly and he goes with it, taking everything, his hand caressing and rolling the orgasm out longer than any other I'd had before. I think I cry out, but I can't tell. Lost in a tidal wave of lustful, euphoric pleasure. My vision blurs.
Spent, I collapse back into the chair, my body going slack from all the tension that had been released. I can barely move, and when my eyes finally clear I see Reaver standing above me, looking all too smug as he pulls a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabs foppishly at the corner of his mouth.
"Well your highness, I can certainly see how badly you wanted me...what was that, to leave?" He gives a low chuckle at his teasing, and I look away. What had I just done?
He touches my cheek, and turns my head, urging me to look back at him. I do. His eyes are enchanting, inviting, and he holds his hand out to me.
"You may have spent all Lovers Day locked inside this room, but you don't have to spend Lovers Day night alone." His voice is so alluring that I feel tempted. And then I think I should have him taken out and shot for treason. And after that I put my hand in his and rise.
He grins triumphantly, and after such an intense release I can only manage a wane smile back.
Am I really about to do this? I thought with a twinge of shame as I followed him out of the room after dressing and up to my private chambers.
Watching his body move lithely through the palace halls as we skulked about unseen to my bedroom, I feel the stirrings of lust return.
I would just sort out everything in the morning.
Author's note: Alright guys that was my first attempt at a yaoi-ish fanfic ever, and first person point of view too. Hope it came out alright, and hope I didn't break anyone's brains lol.