Chapter Summary: Daemon Targaryen likes to frequent one brothel in particular. Everyone in King's Landing knows that. (House of the Dragon)

"Daemon."

Harry's voice echoed in the quiet of the hall, of the throne room, a little louder than his footsteps. He stopped a couple of feet in front of the Iron Throne, his gaze dubious, his eyes stopping on the man on the seat itself.

Prince Daemon Targaryen sat on the throne idly, casually, not giving a damn that he wasn't supposed to be on it in the first place. His long silver hair lay around his neck, a braid in the back, a bit of dirt and was that blood in his hair? Daemon's tunic was dirty and half way open, his arms down on his lap, like one wasn't brushing against his cock.

Harry's lips twitched in amusement at the sight, something purely possessive floating through his body. That hot curl of frisson familiar enough in relation to the man in front of him.

"You know… I don't get it," Harry commented, meeting those indigo eyes steadily.

"What do you not get?" Daemon questioned, smirking down at him. "Your future king commanding you?"

Harry snorted and gave Daemon a slow once over, stopping on the man's leggings and tunic. He was halfway glad that there wasn't anyone around but knowing Daemon, the man wouldn't care. "That seat looks so uncomfortable. Bunch of melted, spikey, iron and ugh. You'd enjoy sitting on that for seven hours a day, huh?"

"I'd be king."

"You wouldn't be able to jerk yourself off when you hold court," Harry added, putting a certain… interest into his voice, hearing it roughen. "The lords and ladies, I think, would frown on that."

Daemon laughed. "So crude but the power I would hold. Be King of the Seven Kingdoms."

"I own a brothel, mate. The one you most often come visit," Harry offered, giving a little half bow, like he was showing off. Daemon smiled, his eyes glinting in amusement at Harry's words. "Might I add but then again. You get off on people seeing you like this. Wanton and begging for it."

Daemon's grin widened even as he licked his lips. "And you would know."

Harry smiled and dipped his head in a nod. "Yes. I would know. I had you all but moaning the last time. Up against my window."

Daemon's pupils widened, the black edging out the delightful shade of purple, and Harry watched as his breath caught in his throat.

"I am not your whore," Daemon complained, his left hand, his sword hand stopping right over his clothed cock. "I am the king's brother."

"Aye. You are. But… the two are not mutually exclusive." Harry took a step towards the throne, feeling a slight chill echo through the throne room. It was a chilly night anyway but he couldn't see where it was coming from. "When I first saw you, I thought you were one of the girls. Or one of the boys, I suppose."

"I wonder. What are they paid?" Daemon questioned, going still on the throne before he leaned forward, hot interest in his eyes. He pushed aside his tunic, showing his stomach and the line of hair that trailed down. "How much are they paid to take a cock?"

Harry arched an eyebrow before leering at him. "I thought you looked like one of my boys. Or you could have been. After all… you had that look. Hungry for attention, any attention."

"Open your tunic more," Harry remarked. "Let me see you."

Daemon moaned at his words and pushed open his clothes quickly, reaching down a hand to curl around his now hard cock. Daemon's cock was wet and leaking, pre-come spurting from him even now. Harry grinned knowingly, remembering seeing Daemon Targaryen for the first time in his establishment. His own cock twitched and stirred at the memory, seeing the silver haired man walk through the brothel like he owned it. High on adrenaline after a fight or some such thing in the dark alleyways of King's Landing.

"What? You don't get enough attention here?" Harry continued, idle-like, undoing the buttons on his tunic and baring his cock. Daemon swallowed at the sight, digging his fingers into his tunic. "Thought that you'd get a wet cunt to stick your cock in easily."

"What did I look like to you?"

"Like a slut."

Daemon whined loudly, his cheeks reddening, at Harry's rough voice. His fingers tightened and moved around his cock, stroking it slowly, like he was entranced by Harry's point of view of that moment.

"You were so far from indecent that you couldn't have actually been a prince," Harry thought out loud, running a hand through his hair casually, like he wasn't half way hard himself. "Blood on your face and in your hair. Silver hair all astray like mine sometimes is. There was a look in your eye though, one that I've recognized in a few people."

"What?" Daemon's voice roughened, desire making him easy, as his breath hitched.

"You…" Harry trailed off on a moan, giving his own cock a jerk, his eyes glued on Daemon. The man looked disheveled already, hot and gorgeous, jerking his cock. He took a step towards the throne, towards Daemon, hearing the roar of a dragon overhead. Daemon was getting off on this, to this, arousal very visible.

Daemon's eyes were stuck on him, lingering on his cock, as he licked his lips.

"Looked like you wanted to be one of my boys," Harry finished, taking another step, reaching the stairs up to the actual chair.

Daemon groaned and his cock hardened even more, tenting his tunic. His breathing stuttered as he leaked pre-come right onto the throne. His hand stroked over his cock faster, more frantic, as he stared at Harry.

"You want to be mine?"

Daemon groaned and closed his eyes, his fingers sloppily moving over his painfully hard cock. His nostrils flaring with each breath, sweat dripping down his forehead and his clothes askew.

"Oh, the picture you make. And you know I take care of my own," Harry murmured, taking two steps, with only one between him and Daemon.

"I know…" Daemon's voice wavered, meeting Harry's eyes as he stepped up to stand in front of him. "Oh, fuck."

"You know the picture you make?" Harry echoed, reaching out to cup Daemon's cheek, smoothing a thumb over that pale skin. Daemon peered up at him, his mouth slightly open, his tongue poking out, his gaze dropping down to Harry's cock before quickly flying back up. "You're on the throne, Daemon. With your leaking cock out."

Daemon swallowed and smirked at him. "King Daemon Targaryen."

Harry snorted in amusement and trailed his fingers back, curling into Daemon's silver strands of hair and tugging. "Well, your Grace. Come for me."

Daemon whimpered, his whole body shuddering as that voice went straight to his cock, his toes curling in his boots, that sharp sense of pain sparking from his scalp. He came on the spot as Harry tugged him up by his hair, pleasure running rampant through his body even as pain lit up his nerves. His eyes fluttered shut as his nerves lit up with pleasure, his blood thrumming through him. He distantly heard Harry grunt, a long drawn out moan coming from the man as he came too. His breath hitched and stuttered as he swayed on the spot, feeling Harry wrap an arm around him to steady him.

"Oh, good boy," Harry whispered, tipping his chin up and pressing his mouth to Daemon's. "My good boy."

Daemon whined as he leaned against the man, hearing Harry's heart thud against his rib cage. Panting and trying to catch his breath, feeling Harry's hard cock press up against his thigh. He shuddered against the other man, as pleasure continued to jolt through him. His nerves lighting up at being manhandled, Harry's arm wrapping around him.

The knot in his stomach unfurled at Harry's words, at the words from one of the smaller folk. One of the working men who made King's Landing his home. Harry had been the one steady presence in his world throughout the time Daemon had spent in King's Landing and now…

"It is a possibility that…" Harry paused, peering at him thoughtfully, hungrily. "Your brother might pick Rhaenyra for his heir."

Daemon scowled and tried to back off, his tunic all askew and wet besides, his leggings mostly at the bottom of his legs. He'd caught his breath finally, words and sense coming back to him. "Seven hells, he's picking me."

It was the dead of night and they were in the throne room, with the Iron Throne right behind him. There was no one in the throne room with them for once, something that was rare enough.

Harry twitched, the corner of his mouth pulling up in exasperation, and reached out to grip his chin. "Daemon. I know you better than that."

Daemon shivered in the man's hold, feeling Harry's rough fingers against skin. "He's my brother. He's picking me. It's tradition for men to inherit the throne."

Harry stared at him and then grimaced, rolling his eyes. "Very well. You lords and kings. This is why I didn't become a lord here. Too much work doing absolutely nothing."

Harry pulled away, slowly withdrawing his fingers. He slowly pulled his tunic back over his chest and pulled his own leggings up, covering his spent cock. "You know where to find me."

"What the fuck do you mean?" Daemon yelled, as Harry stepped back and down the stairs.

Daemon stood up and glanced down at himself, finally noticing the come on his chest. Heat danced through his body at the sight and at seeing Harry's answering smirk. Possessiveness evident in his eyes. Daemon glared at Harry, keeping the small curl of heat and delight that he felt at being marked that way to himself. He'd deny that to his dying day.

"You think I'm 'smaller' than you. That I'm a lesser man than you are," Harry offered, shrugging. "That everyone is beneath House Targaryen all because they don't have dragons."

"Yes."

Harry snorted. "You've never even once asked me about my past. You might learn a thing or two."

Daemon blinked and stalked down the stairs of the throne, grabbing the discarded blade beside it. He buckled on Dark Sister and stared at the man, watched as he left the throne room without another word.

Harry stepped through the great doorways of the throne room and was about to leave when he saw a curl of silver. He heard Daemon mutter and grumble back aways, still right at the throne. Pretty violet eyes stared at him from the darkness of the corner to his left and he arched an eyebrow, watching as Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen poked her head out of her hiding place. He wondered how much the 19 year old young woman had seen, hoped that it hadn't been the entire kinky scene.

"Princess."

Rhaenyra stared at him curiously, her eyes wide.

"I'll keep your secret if you keep mine and his," Harry offered, winking at her. "It's out past my bedtime too."

Rhaenyra snorted in amusement. "My nuncle is stupid."

Harry laughed and dipped his head in a nod. "Yes. That he is. Goodnight."

Harry yawned and turned to go, seeing a little hint of teenage rebellion in her eyes and within, maybe a little hint of heat. Out around the Red Keep at night, alone, unnoticed by anyone else apparently. Harry sighed at the thought, that spark in her gaze reminding him of himself when he was younger. His lips twitched in idle amusement and turned to look back at Daemon, who was still strutting around the throne.

Used a casual bit of magic to make sure there was no one else around or in the throne room.

"Daemon, the next time you do something reckless, tell me first! I'll get you on your knees in five minutes."

Daemon spluttered at his shout and turned bright red, in arousal, not embarrassment. "How dare you!"

Harry smirked at the man, who stalked towards him, his hand on the blade at his hip. With a thought, the image of the basilisk in mind, he spoke in a slithery tongue. "Yes, I dare. You're getting wet again, aren't you?"

Daemon let out a strangled breath at the words, at the language that came out of Harry's mouth. His cock hardened quickly, his heart thudded against his ribcage.

"You'd have to bend the knee to her anyway, if Viserys picks her. Though…" Harry trailed off with a shrug, imagining it and feeling his own cock throb at the thought. Having Daemon on his knees before him. The man hadn't lowered himself to that level, too arrogant to suck a cock. Too prissy. But not enough to let Harry fuck him. That… he'd allowed. "I could just talk you into coming right now, couldn't I? I wouldn't even have to touch you."

Daemon licked his lips and swallowed on a dry throat. He couldn't understand what Harry was saying but seven hells. It was hot. "Fuck off."

"Alright. You just keep in mind my offer," Harry offered dryly, his eyes lighting up in laughter. "Right. I'm off."