Their code was simple: "I think it's time for some one-on-one training, Dedue." The classic response: "Of course, Highness."
It began as harmless fun. At the Officers Academy, Dimitri and Dedue used the phrase to escape classmates and instructors, claiming they needed extra practice. The ruse worked so well it quickly became their go-to escape plan, dodging everything from tedious lectures to awkward social gatherings.
Uncle Rufus with his endless family photo albums, Sir Gustave's relentless training sessions, or overly lecturing advisors—whenever Dimitri reached the end of his patience, or needed a moment to re-dose his medicines or simply stay awake, the phrase came to his rescue. Dimitri and Dedue would slip away, their secret code allowing them to evade responsibilities effortlessly.
Years later, much had changed. Dimitri was now King of Faerghus, and Dedue his right hand in all things. Yet, some things remained the same, including their secret phrase. "One-on-one training" had taken on a deeper meaning, a way for them to find stolen moments of peace and companionship amidst the chaos of court life, especially as these days Dimitri could not keep his hands from Dedue.
During council meetings, Dimitri's eye constantly wandered to Dedue's hands, the curve of his throat when he swallowed. His hands and the way the skin darkened at his knuckles. Despite his immense size, capable of killing a man with one arm, Dedue was meticulously manicured, always smelling fresh and with silk soft skin.
In the grand ballroom filled with nobility, Dimitri felt that familiar itch to escape. Today's issue? Dedue's court outfit did nothing to hide his irresistible bulge. One glance and Dimitri felt himself roused.
"Dedue," Dimitri's voice came too loud, too quickly. Dedue jumped, clearly surprised. "Isn't it time? Our training?"
"Anything for His Majesty." Dedue's expression remained stoic, but Dimitri caught the twinkle in his eye. They moved with practiced ease, slipping away from the crowd without drawing attention. The nobles, none the wiser, believed their king and his steadfast knight were off to discuss important matters of state.
Inside the nearest storage room, the world outside melted away. The small, enclosed space contrasted starkly with the grand ballroom but was perfect for their purposes.
Dimitri leaned against the door, pinned as Dedue's hands held his above his head, his tongue exploring Dimitri's mouth. During a pause for breath, Dimitri laughed, breathless.
"Can you believe they still fall for it?" he asked, amusement coloring his voice. His laugh died away, replaced by a breathy groan as Dedue sucked at the pulse of his neck.
"Perhaps they do not," Dedue said. "Some likely know."
"Ah," Dimitri gasped, struggling to maintain composure. "What makes you think so?"
"It is the way you look at me," Dedue responded, a low chuckle in his throat like gravel and boulders.
Dimitri took Dedue's face in his hands, turning his head. Dedue's eyes were sultry, his full lips parted. Dimitri stuck his thumb in Dedue's mouth, leaning close to whisper in his ear.
"How do I look at you?" he asked, biting the corner of Dedue's ear and pulling. "Tell me."
Dedue sucked on Dimitri's thumb, making him groan. He needed those lips somewhere else. Dimitri slid the thumb out and started stripping off Dedue's tunic. Dedue's immense hands cupped Dimitri's face, lifting his chin and locking their gaze. Dimitri's breath caught, losing himself in Dedue's golden-brown eyes. His heart raced, his hands froze, warmth spreading through his body.
"Like that," Dedue said softly, biting his lip, as if ashamed of wanting the king's love.
"How could anyone tell what their one-eyed mad king wants?" Dimitri scoffed, transfixed by Dedue's amber gaze. He was never the first to break contact.
Dedue did, leaning forward to kiss the empty socket where Dimitri's eye patch concealed nothingness. "Do not call His Majesty that again."
"You are the only one I will take orders from," Dimitri said. "Otherwise, I would call that treason."
Dedue said something in Duscuri, a term Dimitri had tried to translate often. It meant something about belonging and love, but Dedue could say anything in Duscuri, and Dimitri would melt.
Dedue claimed his lips again, then said, "You could never hurt me. And even if you tried, I would accept it if it were you."
Whether it meant Dimitri couldn't or wouldn't, it didn't matter. Dedue was right. Dimitri would cut off his own arm first. The thought brought a mist to his eyes whose droplets coated his eyelashes, unbidden.
"…Love?" Dedue's voice probed.
Dimitri shook his head, clearing away the darkness creeping in. "It is nothing. Only, do not ever speak like that to me again. That is an order."
Dedue stiffened. "Yes, Your—"
"Hush," Dimitri said, leaning against Dedue's chest. Their hearts beat against one another's. He took a deep breath, Dedue's arms enveloping him. Their breathing was the only sound in the tiny storage room.
"I did not mean that," Dimitri whispered, his apology muffled against Dedue's chest. He grabbed fistfuls of Dedue's tunic. "Forgive me. Talk of losing you makes me mad."
Dedue kissed the top of his golden head, whose curls were pulled back in an imitation of Dedue's own. Another influence the Duscuri had on his King. "It is forgotten, Dimitri."
"Good. Let us resume before I burst through my breeches," Dimitri said, making Dedue chuckle.
Dimitri made short work of Dedue's tunic, shoving him against the door. Dedue's body, like a sculpted god, breathed under Dimitri's touch. His glistening black skin expanded and contracted as he breathed, his breasts enormous pillows of muscle. Duscuri perfume coated his skin with an intoxicating spice. Dimitri's mouth trailed lazy kisses down Dedue's chest, past his belly, to the dip of his Adonis belt, finally reaching what he'd been craving. Dedue's bulge strained against his breeches, the button ready to pop.
"Gods," Dimitri growled, falling to his knees, clawing at Dedue's belt. "I need it. Now." Wrapping his lips around the protrusion through Dedue's breeches, he bit down, causing Dedue to hiss.
"Teeth," Dedue groaned. Dimitri collected himself. With a grunt, Dedue unclipped his belt, triggering something in Dimitri, like a dog trained to eat by the ringing of a bell. He ripped Dedue's breeches down, struggling to tug them past the enormous erection, finally rewarded with what he craved. Without hesitation, Dimitri took Dedue in his mouth.
"Is this…" Dedue arched his back, bracing against the door. His hips thrust forward despite trying to hold back. "Is this what you wanted?"
Dimitri's ministrations were always desperate, like it was the last thing he'd ever taste. He bobbed up and down, filling the room with debauched sucking noises. Every few moments, he gasped for air and swallowed gobs of pre-come. His hands jerked where his mouth couldn't reach.
Dedue slid down the door, legs struggling to stay upright. His groans grew guttural, but he maintained his composure. "Mm, that feels good. That's a good boy."
Dimitri's eye widened at the praise. He paused, looking up, pleased. Dedue's playful Top emerged when he was relaxed and having a good time. Dedue gathered Dimitri's sweaty, sex-soaked hair, bunching it at his neck out of the way, and Dimitri slid lower on his cock, nearly choking himself. He pulled off, gasping, come dribbling down his lips and throat.
"I need you to fuck me," Dimitri demanded, then softened. "Please. I might perish."
Dedue steadied himself as Dimitri disrobed. They'd left lubricant bottles in discreet places. While Dedue popped the lid and plunged two fingers in, Dimitri braced against the door, biting his lip, delirious from Dedue's scent. His spicy, woodsy, perfect scent acted like an aphrodisiac.
Dedue inserted a finger, then two, and Dimitri hissed, fists clenching. Dedue's fingers brushed against his protrusion, curling, causing Dimitri to cry out.
"There?" Dedue smiled. His deep, seductive tone made Dimitri's neck hairs stand and gooseflesh spread across his skin. He figured they needed to bottle up Dedue's sex voice into love potions, because Gods, what it did to him.
"Yes," Dimitri hissed. "Yes, there. Yes. Yes."
The slapping noises of Dedue rubbing lubricant into his hands, warming it, filled the room. Dimitri pressed his head against the door, always nervous and needy before it happened. Every time. He inhaled sharply as Dedue entered, then exhaled shakily as he pulled out. The noise that escaped him was halfway between a sob and a moan.
"Love?" Dedue's voice anchored him.
"I'm fine," Dimitri called back.
Dedue's hands tenderly gripped Dimitri's shoulders, then roved down the edges of his ribs, to his chest, nipples, and back to his shoulder blades. Dimitri melted under Dedue's touch, thinking how beautiful his brown skin looked atop his, how handsome his manly hands looked as the roughness of his calloused palms moved against his flesh. Dimitri hissed in arousal when Dedue's hands wrapped around his erection.
Dedue rocked into him again, more forcefully, Dimitri's head knocking against the door. He tried to steady himself, but Dedue's hands and thrusts overwhelmed him. His moans grew deep, loud, and primal despite his attempts to quiet. Dedue's powerful hips slapped against his thighs, and with every thrust, Dimitri pounded into the door. He tried to steady himself, think of something to bring him back, and he focused on Dedue's hands stroking him, how he filled and stretched him in every way.
It wasn't long before he came, crying out in Dedue's grasp, hot pulses coating Dedue's hands in thick white ropes. Shortly after, Dedue came inside him in hot bursts, and Dimitri groaned in pleasure feeling raw, vulnerable, sexy, and masculine.
As Dedue carefully pulled out, every breath felt desperate, Dimitri's body caked in sweat and sex. Dimitri clung to the door as they both caught their breath. Something dripped down his leg. Pride seized him. The King of Fearghus belonged to Dedue.
A rough terry cloth scraped between his legs as Dedue cleaned them. He was still slightly breathless. "We are likely wanted back," Dedue huffed.
Dedue's ivory hair was mussed and had slipped out of its tie, now feathering down his face. He was so ungodly handsome, Dimitri thought. It was painful how much he loved him.
"Just one more moment," Dimitri begged, softly. He pulled Dedue back down to kiss him tenderly, pleased when Dedue's hands trailed down his back, igniting a familiar fire. They stayed like that for a while until Dimitri realized they'd never get anything done at this rate. Reluctantly, he pulled back, both their lips glistening.
They quickly dressed. Dimitri helped Dedue fix his hair. Though nothing could be done about his own sex-tousled hair, Dedue retied it to maintain some semblance of propriety. Dimitri stepped out of the room first, checking that the coast was clear, then motioned to Dedue. Dedue stepped out quickly. This was the part of the routine where they walked away in separate directions, pleased with themselves.
"Same time tomorrow?" Dimitri called out loudly, formally, so much so, that Dedue had to hold back laughter from his silly king.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Dedue replied, suppressing a smile.