Author's note: Ottoman!Turkey/Greece just after Hungary's left, past Turkey/Hungary. Their relationship intrigues me because it's so complicated but I didn't want to draw it out with this story just to draw it out. I'm working on Turkey/Hungary as well so then these two stories will go together. I just found this story before I found the other one I want to write.
Replacement
"I'm not a replacement for her," Heracles spits out where he's laying as Sadık approaches the bed before dropping his cloak and heading for the window. The man's been quiet since Erzsébet left; his queen he used to call her, Ece, because she was beautiful and she was his. Or at least, that's what the man'd told himself.
"Shut up," Sadık breathes.
"No," the Greek man challenges back. Because Erzsébet had represented a people divided she had always been allowed to move between the Ottomans and Austrians. Finally she had left the harem and Heracles can't hold that against her, taking her things with no intention of ever coming back. The empire would soon lose her lands to the Habsburgs anyway and she would be free of Sadık once and for all.
His Turkish companion flies to him, wrapping his hands around Heracles's neck. "Shut up!" Sadık screams and that makes the younger man smile, grabbing the darker wrists and holding them tight.
"You really did love her, didn't you? Did you think she loved you back? Have you really been that stupid all along?" All of them have been playing Sadık for years because he has power and can make their lives miserable if they didn't; Erzsébet had always been the best at playing him, making him believe the tales she wove. "Did you put your stupid flowers in her hair? Give her fancy jewels to wear while you fucked her?"
"You don't know," Sadık breathes, his eyes wide, "anything."
"I know a fool when I see one."
The struggle that ensues in that makes the Greek man laugh, the two rolling on his bed as the Turk curses him over and over. It was ludicrous to see Sadık so worked up over someone, so vulnerable and hurt. Maybe when she'd left Erzsébet had at least left a hole in the Turkish man's heart for them to lash out at, no longer able to depend on her to play him.
Sadık slams Heracles down finally, pressing searing lips to his in a kiss that's demanding and not at all caring. The man was hungry and Heracles had been chosen as today's meal.
There's little grace to the way he finds himself being flipped over, clothes pushed aside. Sadık could swear all he wanted that he didn't like men but Heracles knew better; oh he might have preferred women, preferred Erzsébet with her magnificent breasts and curvy hips, but with her gone there were men to take her place best they could. The Greek man doesn't bother trying to turn his head and look, listening instead to Sadık's grunts and groans, the rustle of fabric as he strips himself down as well.
The man who normally burned brighter than a candle is ice-cold and almost-silent before he thrusts into Heracles bent over the edge of the bed. After that they fuck like animals, the one trying to not show how much he enjoyed riling his captor up, the other left to his never-spoken thoughts. When Heracles starts gasping a large hand covers his mouth, Sadık hissing in his ear, "Stop it, she never sounded like that."
Her replacement– hadn't Heracles made it clear he wasn't Erzsébet's replacement?
He allows himself to be fucked against the mattress, enjoying the friction against his erection until he grabs the sheets and comes, screaming into the hand still there. After that both Turkish hands hold his hips tight as Sadık finishes and Heracles doesn't miss him calling out for his queen.
"I know," Sadık whispers against the back of Heracles's neck, "that you're not her replacement. But you need to learn to hold your tongue."
"No," the Greek man challenges and the anger that had been sedated in the Turkish one flares up again. At least Erzsébet had been wise enough to break the cycle when she could.
