Disclaimer: I do not own She-Ra or its related characters. All is the property of Noelle Stevenson, Dream Works Animation, Netflix, NBCUniversal Television Distribution, Filmation, Larry DiTillo, and J. Michael Straczynski.
Inconvenient Arrangements
Chapter Seventeen: Interrupting In the Office
Phitanium was the hardest substance in the universe.
The Horde's space ships were made out of it. Their weapons were made out of it. Their bots were made out of it. Hell! The royal family's personal armor was made out of it.
And Elmora knew it. It was why she tried to raise the price.
But a planetary Queen extorting the great Horde Empire was something they could not allow. The fact that the Horde needed the resource aside, it set a bad precedent! The Empire did not negotiate. The Empire did not concede. The Empire commanded.
The Horde took swift and firm action against her. Dispatching troops to planet Phantos, seizing control of the phitanium mines, the smelting plants, the forges, and the distribution and shipping ports. It was probably the last act Prince Imperial Hec-Tor Kur was able to sign into command before his wedding to that Etherian princess pulled him away from the capital.
And it completely devastated Queen Elmora's rule.
She was 'Queen' of her own world in name only now. The Horde having taken over everything resembling any kind of 'control'.
Her command was taken over by a Horde officer. Her shipping yards, forges, and smelting plants were staffed and operated by Horde soldiers, her own people that used to work them being thrown out of their jobs. The phitanium mines were dug out and worked by clone units.
Elmora was still allowed to sit her throne, and retain her title of 'Queen'. But it was an empty title, and a hollow position.
So, when the Imperial alert came out to be on the lookout for a new terrorist, one who's name they did not yet know, but had the blue dusky blue skin of an Eternasi Gar, but a face like a skull, pale bone scrubbed clean of all flesh, all Elmora had to say was, 'Good for him.'
…
They were off to a good start and Skeletor did not want to lose momentum. But their search for a place to refine the ore taken from Krytis was flagging.
There wasn't a place outside the Empire's sphere of influence with the facilities capable of working with such a highly toxic mineral. Any place with facilities advanced enough to refine the ore were not only in Imperial space, but also occupied by a strong military presence.
Skeletor sat on the throne in the great hall of the castle in Snake Mountain, and scrolled through a list of planets, space stations, and asteroid settlements, dissatisfied with all of them.
Behind him, he heard an unnecessarily loud sipping sound. Skeletor turned, seeing Evil-Lyn standing there, sipping a glass of lavender-mint tea.
"Don't mind me." She took another sip, making sure to slurp extra loud.
"Is there something you want to say?" Skeletor asked. "Or are you just being irritating because you're bored?"
She took another sip of her iced tea, this one silent, and came around to stand in front of his throne. Evil-Lyn took her time before answering, "I notice you're not even looking at Imperial occupied worlds."
"Because they're Imperial-held." Skeletor told her, feeling like this should have been obvious.
Evil-Lyn just lifted her chin, flashing him an almost trollish smile. "They are occupied. When have you even known the natives of occupied worlds to be pleased with the occupation?"
If he still had eyebrows, Skeletor would have raised on at her. Instead, he steepled his fingers and waited for her to continue. Evil-Lyn was unique. Sometimes, she was soft, empathetic, and nurturing. Qualities Skeletor imagined probably belonged to 'Evelyn Powers' the refugee from Earth that had crashed on Eternia. He wouldn't know, he never actually met Evelyn Powers, only knew that Marlena had been very attached to her. Other times, she was devious, strategic, calculating, and cold. Entirely like… Horde Prima, Par-Is Kur
She hopped up to sit on the arm of his throne, offering him her half-drank glass of iced tea. Skeletor took it. He was introduced to a lot of creature comforts back when he lived in the Imperial palace on Horde World, but lavender-mint tea was definitely one of his favorites. He took a long sip as she explained.
"Occupying rules are oppressive. They oust the native leadership and install foreigners –usually soldiers- in their places." Evil-Lyn grabbed her glass of iced tea back from him before he could finish it. "Understandably, natives do not appreciate being ruled by outsiders who don't understand them or their customs, limit freedoms, and impose martial laws to maintain order. Similarly, the former leader of occupied worlds don't appreciate being removed from the power and influence they're used to having, or the wealth that usually comes with power and influence. We're more likely to find allies on Imperial-held and Imperial-occupied worlds than we will on planets or asteroids in the middle of nowhere that no one cares about, and have no reason to go against the Empire."
Feeling her point was made, she drained the last of the lavender-mint tea and leaned over him to set the now empty glass on the other armrest of the throne.
"Of course, that's just my opinion." She shrugged.
Skeletor had a very high regard for her opinions when she was like this. When she wasn't asking him about his own feelings and trying to council him through emotions he'd rather not feel. When she was reminding him of the broader concept of emotion and condition that could be used to predict and manipulate people. She had always been very good at manipulating people, even before she was 'Evil-Lyn'.
Running a finger around the rim of the empty glass, Skeletor asked, "Supposing we do contact the deposed leadership of an Imperial-occupied world, how would we go about our own business without being discovered by the local garrison?"
She tilted her head, giving him an almost teasing smile. "Don't tell me, you, with all your knowledge of the Empire, it's military, and how things work, you don't even have the slightest idea?"
Still running his finger over the rim of the glass, Skeletor thought for a moment. As much as the Hore Empire was a military machine, it was also bogged down in bureaucracy. Sometimes, orders were misfiled, personnel was shifted, things were confused in the shuffle…
"I could forge some Imperial commands." He said slowly, talking through his thought process out loud. "We could pose as Enlisted soldiers. That would get us to the planet and allow us to move around freely. After that, it would be a matter of just convincing the local… whoever used to be in charge, to help us."
"I'm good at convincing people to go along with my plans." Evil-Lyn informed him.
"You're good at convincing people when you're like this." Skeletor reminded her in turn. "When you're pragmatic and clinical. You are not good at swaying people when you get all soft and just wanna sing kumbaya and talk about their feelings. And you can't control when you switch."
She frowned at him. Evil-Lyn had an entirely different opinion. Not everyone was swayed by cold logic and pragmatic reasoning. Sometimes, people needed to be swayed by their own base and visceral feelings, not their empirical needs. She didn't think her two sides were all that different from each other. Evelyn Powers' sympathy, and Par-Is Kur's pragmatism were both rooted in empathy. In an understanding of other people that came from suffering. Evil-Lyn might not have either of their memories, but she retained their feelings –and the talent for knowing people that went along with them.
"When we find a suitable world with the right kind of industry, I'll go." Skeletor announced. "I'll take Tri-Klops and Trap Jaw with me, so I won't be going alone. You will remain here at Snake Mountain and coordinate our other efforts."
"I'm not one of your minions." She reminded him. They were supposed to be partners, each with an equal share in the venture. "You can't order me around like one."
"It wasn't a command." He tried to argue.
"It sure sounded a lot like a command." Evil-Lyn stood, no longer wanting to sit on the arm of his throne, and regretting sharing her lavender-mint tea with him.
Skeletor massaged the sides of his skull, as if these were still muscles there capable of getting tension. There weren't, but the mind still remembered what the body had lost. This was a drift back to Evelyn Powers, cold and calculating Par-Is would have recognized the risk in bringing an unpredictable element into an unsure situation.
"What I meant was," he began, hoping he was choosing his words correctly, "was that we will need someone to maintain our other efforts while I am occupied negotiating for a new ally and new industry. I don't trust anyone but you to take command while I'm gone. And, quite frankly, knowing the band of idiots that follow us, you shouldn't trust anyone but yourself either."
She only continued to glare at him. Hands on her hips, a frown on her face.
"We are partners." Skeletor assured her. "That's why I need you to command. You are my co-commander."
He saw the shift on her face before she said anything else out loud. The arch of her brows softening with thought, the frown easing away from displeasure, to one of consideration. The hands on her hips were no longer fists, but flat palms, one finger tapping her armored hip with consideration.
"Your face is all over the extranet." She reminded him.
Skeletor nodded. "Something that was bound to happen. We couldn't stay in the shadows forever."
"The Empire is a lot closer to us than it was before." She was just thinking out loud at this point, not yet drawing a conclusion. "Prince Hec-Tor, with his giant warship, are in this very solar system, only one planet away."
"All the more reason for someone competent and trustworthy to stay behind and watch the base." Skeletor reminded her.
He wasn't actually imagining Hec-Tor tracking them back to Snake Mountain any time soon. The Prince would need time to adjust to his new home and his new wife. Even if he did throw himself into his duties, work long hours, and never actually see his new spouse –as he did when his marriage to Keldor was still new- his work would not lead him to Snake Mountain.
Skeletor stood from his throne and placed his hands on her shoulders, feeling the muscle underneath the Eternian-style armor plating. The firm musculature of a healthy body that exercised regularly. Violet eyes, not glowing red ones, under frost-white brows, set in a heart-shaped face, high cheekbones, yes, but no where near as sharp as a space bat's. Hec-Tor wouldn't recognize her. But still, even if the Horde Prince did track them down and make his way to Snake Mountain…
"You are the only one I know can stand up to Hec-Tor if he were to find us." Skeletor told her outright.
"I don't remember him." Evil-Lyn reminded him.
"And he won't recognize you." He agreed. "Even so. I believe he would never harm you."
The bond of twins was a unique bond. It was almost like a kind of magic of its own. The Kurs were not sorcerers. The Horde Empire had little magic. But there was still an ephemeral and indistinct connection between twins that was hard to explain any other way. Keldor was with Hec-Tor when Par-Is died. They were not allowed in the room, but, at the moment that her body expired and the soul left it, Hec-Tor felt it. Keldor could tell.
Squeezing Keldor's hand tighter than he had already been, talons almost digging into his husband's skin. One arm wrapping around his gut, almost as if he'd just been punched in the stomach. Gasping out her name as if begging her not to leave.
Hec-Tor could feel his sister. He wouldn't recognize Evil-Lyn as Par-Is, because she was not Par-Is, she was Evil-Lyn. But, he might recognize that something of his twin still lived on within her.
…
The Crypto Castle was an adjustment.
For everyone.
It seemed a day did not go by without Hec-Tor's comm buzzing with someone who had gotten lost and needed directions to get to where they were going.
Everyone in the castle wore trackers, and anyone who had a datapad or device capable of running complicated applications, received the app that mapped out the castle and it's changes in real time. That way everyone could see where they were and where they were going.
But Hec-Tor's datapad (and Entrapta's computer in her lab) had administrator privileges. Hec-Tor could control the castle's changes. Pause a passage from shifting. Switch a staircase from one landing to another. Open a door into a different room. Hec-Tor was still getting used to the app. But he was adjusting. In fact, thanks to his administrator privileges, he was adjusting better than most.
There was one hub where multiple corridors intersected and shifted that Grizzlor absolutely hated. He would never state it outright. He was too professional to voice such vehement opinions. But Hec-Tor did notice that he used his own tracker and map app to avoid that intersection, sometimes even at the cost of accomplishing his assigned tasks quickly and efficiently. One time, Grizzlor even detoured out of the castle, walking over the roof of one building, up to the platform of the Dryl Orb, then back down into the castle to deliver a new datacard to Hec-Tor in his office.
Mantenna had taken to spending a great deal of his off time –of which he did not have much- arguing with a computer on the ground level that was apparently programmed to always lie. This annoyed Mantenna greatly, not because it sounded absurd for someone to have programmed a computer to lie, but because before the computer would begin talking to anyone, it would announce that it always lied. But if it always lied, shouldn't it try and say that it always told the truth instead? Or qualify the statement and say that it lied some of the time, or even most of the time. In addition to being a Lieutenant of Prince Imperial Hec-Tor, Mantenna was also a chief interrogator, it was his job to determine truths from lies. The computer offended him on a professional level so deep it was almost personal.
Catra was Princess Entrapta's lady-in-waiting and personal attendant. She had already been living in the Crypto Castle for many years. Her adjustment was now having to put up with hardened soldiers and decorated Horde officers coming to her, almost in tears, begging for directions, a way out, where is the toilet!?, or just '…help'. She missed the days back when it was just her, Bake, Bus Girl, and Soda Pop taking care of Entrapta. Now they had a whole garrison living within the walls and it appeared that the Horde was not adjusting well.
The only one who did seem to be adjusting well was Prince Imp.
Imp loved every confusing, nonsensical, moving piece of the Crypto Castle. Before the first week was even complete he managed to learn the patterns of the changing corridors to escape his keeps.
He found a corridor that seemed to go on infinitely, never ending or beginning, just one straight line of 'always'… unless you found the gaps in the wall on the south-facing side that were hidden by a trick of the lighting and forced perspective of the bricks.
He found an outdoor hedge maze in a portion of the castle that was not supposed to have an 'outdoor'. There was an Enlisted soldier in the maze when Imp found it, and they were marking bricks with arrows to try and find their way. Any brick that the Enlisted marked flipped itself over of its own accord, turning their marks in all different directions but the direction they wanted to go.
There was a series of rooms that all connected to each other, but did not line up in straight lines, all filled with robot faces that shouted to 'Wrong way!', 'Go back!', 'The path you have chosen will surely lead to certain death!'
There was a sudden drop that lead down into a dark and dirty oubliette. That did frighten Imp for a bit. He thought he was trapped and couldn't get out. He didn't want to have to hit the panic button on his tracker and have Dad come and rescue him. Then Dad would be mad, and it Dad was mad he would limit some of Imp's freedoms. After spending some time crying, because he was five, and he thought he was trapped, Imp waited for his eyes to adjust, then found a plank of wood with a knob on it laying on the ground. He propped it up against a wall and the plank of wood suddenly became a door, with a narrow and spider-webbed tunnel behind it.
That tunnel lead out into a junk pile under the castle, and Imp took a few moments to find absolute treasures among the trash.
Overall, Imp was having a great time.
No one else had adjusted as well as Imp had by the time the official invitation to Princess Prom arrived.
It was dropped off at the Crypto Castle, but given to one of the robots in the courtyard whom was not programmed to recognize its importance. The bot rolled around the castle with it on a tray for quite a while until it reported to the kitchens to collect a serving of tiny food to bring to Entrapta in her lab. Baker recognized its significance immediately and took it from the bot.
She set the bot to rest mode and took Entrapta's food up to the lab herself.
The Princess didn't even notice the one serving her, her cupcakes and fizzy drink wasn't even a robot at first. She was so engrossed in her work.
Entrapta appeared to be working on several projects at once. Building a series of bots to build her weapons for Horde Prime in a faster and more efficient assembly-line style, designing newer and more powerful weapons than the ones she was already making, and dissecting or dismantling the body parts she brought back with her from Nordor.
Baker cringed visibly at that last one. Only Princess Entrapta could be oblivious to the abject carnage that she happily carted home with her.
Baker didn't realize she made that comment outloud until Entrapta turned, the straw of her fizzing drink still in her mouth as she smiled. "Ah, Baker, when did you get here!?" She smiled happily. Entrapta got company while she was working so rarely. "Did you wanna see what I'm working on?"
"No, no, there's not need to share Imperial secrets with me." Baker assured her. The last thing she wanted was a prosthetic leg with the organic femur and thigh still attached waved in her face. "I just came to make sure you knew the invitation to Princess Prom arrived."
She held out the invitation.
If Entrapta was smiling before, she all but lit up at the mention of Princess Prom. Corners of her mouth reaching all the way up to her eyes, which were suddenly sparkling with stars. She rubbed her gloved hands together as she lifted the invitation scroll with her hair.
"The greatest social experiment of the decade!" She announced. Princess Prom only happened once every ten years. Another tendril of hair wrapped itself around Baker's waist and the two women twirled around together. "Think of all the data I'll be able to collect. Interpersonal combinations, coding for social discourse! Oh, I can't wait to catalogue and analyze Perfuma's reaction when she sees me walk in with Hec-Tor! She said I'd never find anyone to be with, you know. I wonder why she said that. The universe is so vast, she couldn't possibly have accounted for all the variables."
The room continued spinning for Baker long after Entrapta let her go. She leaned against… something that felt solid and metallic, and closed her eyes to try and reclaim her balance. "I'm sure Prince Hec-Tor will be happy to know."
"Ah! You're right!" Entrapta squeaked, as an afterthought occurred to her. "I should got tell him!"
Doing cartwheels on her hair, Entrapta dashed out of her lab, humming happily.
Hec-Tor was reading over the projections for their first shipment of combat bots to the Empire. The number of units was just a bit lower than what Horde Prime had wanted. But it was literally Dryl's first shipment, and Hec-Tor was delayed in getting to his new position by old tasks that should have been dealt with before he even left Horde World. Maybe, if Brother wanted things done faster, he should try ruling his Empire himself instead of delegating everything to his baby brother!
Not that Hec-Tor was harboring any bitterness about it or anything.
He was distracted when Entrapta burst into the office. "Guess what!"
"Production is progressing on schedule and we shall meet our quota." He ventured optimistically, already knowing that could not be what had her so excited. He had the numbers in front of him already, and knew that they would be shorting the first shipment at least one thousand robot units.
Entrapta paused, then shook her head. "Don't be silly. We only just started manufacturing. Building bots takes time. You can't rush engineering!" Her hair wafted around them, undulating in a cloud of lavender until an object drifted to the forefront and she held it between them. "Our invitation to Princess Prom just arrived!"
It was all he could do to stare at her.
"Our what? To what?" Hec-Tor blinked glowing crimson eyes at the scroll held in her hair.
"Well, my invitation to Princess Prom." She corrected. "But you're my husband now, so of course you'll be my plus one!"
He took another moment to stare at her, waiting to see if she would elaborate more. When she didn't he asked, "And what is this 'Princess Prom'?"
"Oh. Right. You're not from Etheria, so you wouldn't know." Entrapta set the invitation scroll down on his desk and drifted around the room, moving on waves of purple hair. "All the preliminary data is in the invitation. It's a gathering of all the rulers of all the countries and territories on Etheria. All of them thrown into one room, for one night. It only happens once every ten years. I didn't collect as much data last time as I should have. I was distracted. Science is a process and I was still learning my process back then. But it's the best social experiment of the decade!"
Every ruler on the planet in one room together. That did sound like quite the event, indeed.
Hec-Tor looked down at the scroll she put on his desk. A paper scroll, not a datacard. Breaking the seal, he unrolled it.
The scrolled unfurled longer than he was expecting. Rolling off the desk and across the floor to where it finally stopped when it hit the closed door. He blinked at the length of the document. There was still quite a bit of parchment rolled up.
He lifted his eyes to Entrpata whom was drifting above him on her air. Hands clasp together happily, cheek resting on the back of her glove. She smiled down at him. She was genuinely excited about this. She became genuinely excited about a great many things it seemed. Party invitations, robotics, space travel, severed body parts. If it was worthy of even mild curiosity, Entrapta was excited about it.
Such enthusiasm was infectious and it was hard for Hec-Tor to resist. Their journey from Horde World had been a long one and full of military tedium interspaced with occasional violence. Since arriving in Dryl, it had been even more tedium, interspaced with having to rescue terrified and sobbing Enlisted soldiers from the castle's passages.
A ball –or 'prom'- sounded like a welcome distraction.
"I shall study the preliminary data." He promised her.
"Great!" She bounced out of the room as suddenly as she had come.
Hec-Tor was left sitting at his desk in a bit of a daze. That was the first time Entrapta had burst in on him while working.
Overall, it wasn't all that different from Keldor barging in on him while working. A little louder, to be sure. But briefer. Keldor usually lingered, sometimes longer than Hec-Tor should have allowed. Sometimes, they- um… Actually, Entrapta's interruption was very different from Keldor's. Very, very, different.
…
Hec-Tor was sitting at his desk, going over the total figures of new clone units produced by the creches and comparing it to the graduate rates for Enlisted soldiers from the Academy. Brother wanted to expand the Empire, and they needed troops to do that. But they also needed troops to maintain the Empire they already had. Apparently, it was Hec-Tor's job to figure out how to do both without the number of bodies they had available to them.
That was how he was when Keldor walked in. Holding a trey of cucumber sandwiches in one hand, and a pitcher of iced tea in the other. He set them both down on the desk.
"You know, we have servants to bring me meals." Hec-Tor informed him, looking up from his screen. He couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips though. It was nice that his husband brought him lunch. "There's no need for a Prince Imperial to be preforming serving tasks."
"But I wanted to." Keldor sat on the end of the desk. He plucked a sandwich off the trey and held it out for Hec-Tor.
Slowly, his eyes on Keldor, not the sandwich, Hec-Tor leaned forward and took the triangle-cut bread in his mouth.
"And, besides, don't you need to take your medications with food?" Keldor added.
No sooner did he say this, then a clone entered carrying the little ceramic ramekin containing his thrice daily dose of medication. Keldor was not wrong.
"I spent some time with your sister yesterday." He continued to explain as the clone set the ramekin down and left. "She gave me some excellent advice that I've decided to take."
"Par-Is is very good at giving advice." Hec-Tor agreed. "What was the advice, if I may ask."
He peeled the plastic lid off the ceramic cup, then poured himself a glass of the iced tea to wash it down with. He noted the scent of lavender-mint tea, a favorite of his sister's, clearly something else Par-Is had introduced Keldor to that he decided to adopt. He tipped the pills into the back of his throat and washed them down as quickly as possible.
"Advice about us."
Hec-Tor almost choked on his medications. He mentioned to his sister once –in passing- that he felt he and his husband were always being very formal with each other –which was fine in public- but he wanted to be more… intimate, and he didn't know how. Par-Is, obviously, took this to mean 'can you go tell my husband that I want to bone him and make him do the work for me'.
Keldor poured more tea into his glass and offered it to his now suddenly hacking and gagging husband. "Don't choke! If I become a widower before we've been married even a year, my people might think I've been cursed."
Hec-Tor accepted the offered glass and chugged it down, forcing his medication back down with it. "I will not die." He said when the glass was empty. "I simply did not think my sister would be so bold as to- as to tell you-" He felt his face grow hot and knew he was blushing. He was blushing horribly. Hec-Tor cleared his throat. "I will not die. I am usually much, much better at suppressing my gag-reflex."
"Really?" Keldor seemed very interested in that. He scooted around the desk to sit facing Hec-Tor. Dressed in Eternian clothing, a leather loincloth and belts. Boots that went up to his knees and cuffed with fur. Bare legs between.
Unconsciously, Hec-Tor's eyes were drawn to his exposed thighs. To the muscles that rippled under the skin. The tight sinews that drew lines up the inside of his thighs. Pulling the eyes to the notably sizable bulge that rested there. Hec-Tor's face was already red, but now he could feel his ears and his neck heating up too. His hands twitched at his sides. Hec-Tor wanted to touch those thighs. Run his palms over that tight azure skin. Feel his way up to-
Then Keldor added, "Perhaps we should work on suppressing your gag-reflex together."
Hec-Tor felt oddly short of breath and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to just start outright panting right then and there. He shifted the fabric of his gown to hide just exactly what affect that suggestion had on him. He cleared his throat. "That is- you would-" he took a breath, trying to get himself together along with his words. "I would enjoy more practice suppressing my gag-reflex, if it was with your… help."
Reaching out, Keldor took Hec-Tor's hands in his and guided them to his legs. Resting Hec-Tor's palms almost at the line where his loincloth covered the curve of his ass. "My… help."
Now Hec-Tor was panting. Truly, deeply panting. Taking in heavy breaths and letting them out quickly. His body felt hot, and his clothing felt tight. "Keldor, we- -are in my office." He barely managed to gasp out. All that had actually happened between them was some spoken innuendo and a little imprudent touching. Yet, Hec-Tor's mind was half-clouded by desire. "I am working."
Keldor slid off the desk and into Hec-Tor's lap, straddling his legs. He grinded his pelvis against his husbands, and there was no hiding Hec-Tor's arousal from that.
"I thought you were on your lunch break." Keldor leaned forward, whispering into Hec-Tor's pointed ear.
A shudder ran down the Prince's back. Keldor was so damn forward! He should have known the moment the Gar Prince pushed him over the wall into Eternos that he would be like this. They raised them almost half-feral on Eternia, and marriage did not magically dispel his wildness.
Keldor pulled back enough for Hec-Tor to see his face and note that he was pouting. "You're always so tired at the end of the day." Keldor reminded him. "You don't have any energy to give me any attention." He moved his hips again, the leather of his loincloth pulling against the satin of Hec-Tor's gown. "But you don't seem too tired right now…"
Keldor was leaning in close again. One hand caressing the juncture where Hec-Tor's cheek met his neck. Their mouths were very close. Lips almost touching. They could feel each other's breaths on their skin.
"I thought-" Hec-Tor tried to gasp out. "I thought you were self-sufficient."
"Two hands and an imagination can only do so much." Keldor informed him. "At some point, I need my l-" there was odd pause. Not of his breath catching, more like Keldor didn't know what words to use. His own mind probably as clouded by desire as Hec-Tor's was. "-my noble Prince to take care of me…"
Hec-Tor's hands were on Keldor again. This time he was grabbing his ass. Rubbing gentle caresses up and down the curve. "I am on my lunch break."
"Your lunch break is your own time." Keldor told him, hands reaching up to unclasp the fastener that held the up the yoke of Hec-Tor's gown.
The space bat jumped, as if shocked when the garment fell away. "Here! In my office?"
Sliding off his lap, Keldor stood, pulling Hec-Tor to his feet so he could slide the rest of the gown off his hips. The Prince stood wearing only his undergarments, his armor, and a blush.
"I doubt we'd have time to run to our rooms, do what we want to do, and come back again in your short one hour lunch break." Keldor informed him. "Here's as good a place as any."
That- …was a point.
Hec-Tor didn't know if it was a good point or not. At the moment, he didn't care. He was so aroused and near half-mad with desire that letting Keldor bend him over the desk sounded like a fantastic idea!
Fingers trembling, he reached for the belt of Keldor's loincloth. It wasn't just a simple buckle. This was a complicated affair, with some kind of a hook and snap fastener concealed behind a decorative skull-shaped medallion.
"Need some help." Keldor asked when Hec-Tor did not managed to get it undone on the first try.
"I will figure it out." Insisted the space bat. He could undress his own husband! It wasn't like he wore much clothing to begin with anyway. Just- the little bit that he did wear was apparently locked in place, like some absurd, leather-studded chastity belt. Who designed these things? What was going on, on planet Eternia!? "This confounded thing is more complicated than bodice laces!"
"Here." Keldor's hands drifted down to show him.
The decorative medallion slid to one side to give access to the fastener. The snap popped open like breaking it in half, allowing the hook to slide free. And just like that, Keldor's loincloth was off. Joining Hec-Tor's gown on the floor.
There was a moment's pause as they both stood there in their underwear. Their arousal momentarily overshadowed by nervousness. They had no made love since their wedding night, and that hadn't been about them or their own desires, that had been… the notary seal on a transaction.
They both hesitated.
"Do you… still wanna work on your gag reflex?" Keldor asked.
Suddenly, Hec-Tor felt like such a shallow braggart, telling Keldor that he was great at suppressing his gag reflex. Swallowing an assortment of pills was very different from deep-throating a hard cock. What if he was writing lines of credit his mouth could not cash? He didn't wanna disappoint Keldor.
Perhaps his hesitation dragged on too long, because Keldor looked down at his loincloth on the floor, finally blushing for the first time since this whole episode began. "Of course, if you've changed your mind, you don't have to." He said. "If you don't wanna do anything in your office, that's fine. I want you to be comfortable."
"I-" Hec-Tor didn't actually know what he wanted.
But then Keldor moved, bending as if about to pick up his loincloth.
Moving before his brain even made the conscious decision, Hec-Tor found himself pushing Keldor back against the desk. "I do want to!"
Dark brown eyes blinked back at him, surprised by his boldness.
Hands were on his ass again, lifting Keldor up to sit him on top the desk. The tight briefs-style garment he wore under his loincloth was pulled off and left to hang from his boots. Hec-Tor knelt in front of him, mouth open.
"Mind the teeth!" Keldor gasped before any contact could even be made.
"What?" Hec-Tor paused, looking up as if confused.
"Your teeth." Keldor repeated. "They're really sharp. Please don't… accidentally bite my dick."
"I have done this before." The space bat informed him testily.
"I didn't say you didn't." The Gar assured him in return. "All I asked was that you not bite me."
"If I ever bite you," began Hec-Tor, "anywhere, if I ever bite you anywhere, it will because you are begging me too."
Those brown eyes blinked at him again. Keldor had not been expecting a statement like that.
Assuming that meant his lover was adequately placated and assured that he was in no danger from his fangs, Hec-Tor lowered his mouth over Kedor's stiff cock.
Downand up… down and up. Hec-Tor bobbed his head, stroking and caressing with lips and tongue, but being very, very careful not to accidentally scratch with teeth. He took it in, as deep as it would go, until he could feel the head press into the back of his throat. Then he raised his head up, sucking as Hec-Tor slowly lifted his mouth, until all he held between his lips was the head. Then back down again. Again, and again. Slow at first. Then faster. And faster. Down and up. Down and up. Faster. And Faster.
Keldor sighed with appreciation, head tilting back at the feel of a warm wet mouth around him. Leaning back on the heels of his hands as he let his husband… give him more attention…
Taking advantage of his suppressed gag-reflex, Hec-Tor took Keldor down into his throat. Massaging the base of the cock with his lips, he stroked and petted the shaft with his tongue. Slathering it with wetness. Saliva dripped down Keldor's balls and onto the elegantly carpeted floor of the office.
Keldor moaned and writhed. Bucking his hips, using the heels of his hands for leverage, and thrusting into Hec-Tor's throat with reckless abandon.
Hec-Tor pressed both hands to Keldor's hips, trying to hold him still. Then he flexed his throat, as if swallowing.
Keldor gasped out a word in a language Hec-Tor did not understand and he assumed it was a Garish swear. Taking that as a sign of appreciation, he swallowed again. The muscles of his throat tightening around Keldor's cock as it tried to pull him deeper inside.
"Fuck! I-!" Keldor couldn't seem to get a sentence out.
The third time Hec-Tor swallowed, it wasn't just hard cock. Keldor came, and came hard. Body doubling over. Hands gripping at the military cut his husband called hair. Gasping and moaning obscenely. Hec-Tor gulped down every thick, salty spurt.
He did not take his mouth off Keldor's cock until he swallowed every drop. Slowly raising himself up, lips still sucking the shaft. Making sure he got every last bit. Before finally pulling his mouth off with a wet little pop.
Keldor was still panting from his orgasm when their eyes met. Chest heaving. Ribcage expanding with every breath. Making the belts crossed over his chest shift with every inhale and exhale.
"I take it you were satisfied with my performance." Hec-Tor stated. "I did not use too much teeth."
"That was-" Keldor still seemed unable to form complete sentences. He looked almost as socked as he was satisfied. Almost as if he did not expect to enjoy the experience as much as he did. "That was-"
Reaching out, Hec-Tor took Keldor's hands in his. Closing the space between them and leaning down to rest his forehead against his husbands. He guided Keldor's hand to his own still very aroused and very hard cock. "I would like to enjoy a performance as well."
Keldor hesitated for half a moment, his body still shuddering from the force of his orgasm.
But he didn't get to do much more than just wrap a hand around Hec-Tor's rigid member.
At that moment, one of the Prince's aids walked in carrying a tray of datacards. The poor aid froze in the doorway, seeing the Prince and his husband essentially naked and very clearly… in the middle of something.
Both men froze.
Neither one of them had remembered to lock the door.
Hec-Tor was the first to recover. Practically snapping down into a crouch to retrieve his gown from the floor. He held it against himself in an effort to cover his nakedness. Face a vivid shade of red.
The aid had all four of their hands covering their eyes. "I am so, so, so sorry Your Highnesses!" They cried and ran from the room.
Keldor sighed. People in the Horde were all so prudish and easily offended. He pulled his underwear back up and bend down to retrieve his own loincloth. "Some other time."
"If I am not too tired, tonight!" Hec-Tor promised.
"If you're not too tired."
…