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browngirlHappy Hallowe'en! Here, have Charles and Erik as prostitutes and Shaw as a pimp! (Okay, nothing's different on the last one.)
Title: Rose In The Fisted Glove
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Rating: NC-17 with warnings.
Pairing: Charles/Erik/Sebastian [Shaw]. Also, Emma/Shaw in passing.
Summary Prompt: Shaw owns a brothel, and Charles... is his most popular prostitute. When Erik comes to the brothel, he needs to learn how to give pleasure. Shaw brings in Charles as a human model.
Content Advisory: Nonconsensual. AU, prostitution, slavery, threesome, double penetration, shenanigans.
All Thanks To: Whichever anon requested this on ye olde kinke meme.
Disclaimer: This fanwork has been created for pleasure only and not for profit.
Title from "Love the one you're with" for no good reason.
Charles is Sebastian's best whore.
And Sebastian's become a fair judge, considering he owns and runs the finest house of pleasure in this bustling market town. His years as a mercenary gave him an eye for how best a captive might be used -- let the troops fuck this one, save that one to sell for gold, keep that big one drugged and he'll fetch a pretty price from the builders -- and he's translated it into keeping his house well stocked with pretty, docile, toothsome slaves, fresh enough to draw in the custom and sturdy enough not to break down too soon.
But in his ten years of whoremongering, Sebastian's never yet seen anything to outmatch Charles. In the seven months since he buried his hand in soft brown hair and fetched the boy down off the auction block, Sebastian's made half as much again off his flesh alone. Charles is lively and charming when he's rested and he bruises prettily, his big eyes all the more luminous when sheened with tears, and he's even more fuckable when pale with weariness, his pretty begging mouth just inviting another cock. In their time together, Sebastian's grown quite fond of his little Charles, and keeps him carefully to see he doesn't steal himself.
Still, it takes more than one lad, even one as winsome as Charles, to stock a brothel. When another boy wears out spectacularly -- tried to run, and when Azazel caught him, tried to fight, the more fool he -- Sebastian heads out to the auction block and finds a splendid creature upon it, a tall icy-eyed youth with high-slung cheekbones and lean muscles, who looks down his nose at the auctioneer as if he thinks the whole spectacle's beneath him.
When asked his name the boy regards Sebastian disdainfully, and when cuffed across the face he merely sneers, leaving it to the auctioneer to answer, "Erik," for him. Sebastian almost chortles before he catches himself -- breaking this one will be worth the purchase price in itself.
They start with the standard treatment -- three days locked in the small cellar without food, water, or company, nothing but all the noise of the brothel overhead. When Sebastian descends the spiral stairs on the fourth day, a cool goblet of rich wine in hand, the eyes that peer up at him are darkly ringed, if no less icy, the high cheekbones sharp as daggers though tracked with desperate tears. Sebastian likes this one, he thinks, as he tells Erik his choices, to drink and behave and live, or to stay in the cellar till he rots. Not that Sebastian intends to waste his money that way.
Erik takes the goblet as if he's considering flinging it back in Sebastian's face, but that's why Azazel stands three steps up, knife gleaming in his hand. At last the boy drinks, and frowns handsomely as he wobbles from the drugged liquor. Sebastian likes this one quite a lot.
However, though his raw haughty grace has its appeal, Erik needs a little training. When his chatelaine Emma comes to his bed that night Sebastian asks her advice; she's a practical, delightfully cruel woman with many good ideas, and her eyes glitter like the crystal jewels she favors as she reports that when she fed the boys that evening she saw Erik and Charles trade a glance, both turning rosy-cheeked. "Why not use Charles to teach Erik and tantalize him too?" Emma suggests. "Tell him he can have Charles again if he does especially well."
"This could be amusing," Sebastian agrees, and kisses her for thanks as he throws an arm across her incurved waist, settling in to sleep.
The next morning is the Sun's day, when all the decent folk of the town go to hear the priests, as if they haven't spent the previous night and their gold and silver in Sebastian's pleasure house. Ordinarily Sebastian lets his household sleep in this morning, resting up for the rest of the week, so he knows when he sends for his newest and his best he won't be disturbed. Not yet adapted to the rhythms of the house, Erik arrives bright-eyed, striding a step ahead of Janos; he nods as if summoned by an equal, so Sebastian closes a hand around the back of the boy's neck to remind him of his place, pressing a thumb into the hard muscle.
Erik glares sidelong, and Sebastian grips him harder and grins wider. "You'd best learn to give up those insolent looks," he advises. "Your face is fair enough, it could stand the loss of an eye and still draw custom. Perhaps even both."
Erik goes appealingly pale and focuses his gaze on his feet. Sebastian keeps hold of him anyway until the door rattles under Azazel's customary heavy pound. "Come in," Sebastian calls, his heartbeat quickening in anticipation, and Charles doesn't disappoint, shoulders stooped and eyelids purple with exhaustion, arms folded around himself so vulnerably it makes a man want to tear into him. Azazel sends him in with a slap to one pert buttock, and he stumbles over his feet and nearly falls, catching himself against a chair, his lush red mouth a ring of dismay.
Under Sebastian's hand Erik twitches as if to step forward, and Sebastian has to laugh. They're just too sweet. "Erik, Charles here will help me teach you your duties," he says, and they both regard him with wide uncertain eyes. "Well, don't just stand there staring, my boys. Strip and over to the bed."
Charles obediently pulls off his tunic -- in truth, Sebastian's not certain why he even lets him wear a thread, considering his wiry sleekness and silky pale skin, rippling over his ribs as he inhales -- but Erik stares dumbly at his hands until Charles reaches for him. "Erik," he says gently, and when Erik looks up at him Charles smiles, casting a nervous glance at Sebastian as he grips Erik's shoulders and tugs the tunic upwards.
Sebastian just observes and waits for the best time to be heard; when Erik is watching Charles fold the tunic is the moment to order, "What Charles just did for you? Come do that for me." The moment to watch Erik's eyes flash and his mouth tighten sullenly, to smile and add, "But don't neglect to say, 'May I make you more comfortable, sir?' Our clients enjoy that."
Erik visibly grits his teeth behind his thinned lips, and Charles inhales to say something foolish, but Sebastian didn't buy either of them for their chatter. A flick of the hand dismisses Charles to sit on the bed, a crooked finger orders Erik forward. His, "May I make you more comfortable, sir?" is delivered in a halting growl that warrants a closed-fisted blow, but Sebastian can already predict the mounting surcharges he'll exact from those who'll want to beat the insolence out of this handsome thing, so he does nothing for now. Instead he smiles, spreading his hands, and watches as Erik undoes his belt, glaring as if to set him afire.
Even dressed for indoors Sebastian wears far more than he allows his boys and girls, and now he wishes he'd added cape, coat, and boots, just to prolong the pleasure of Erik's long fingers sliding over his body as the boy resentfully strips him. When Erik comes to the trousers he pauses nearly long enough for Sebastian to grab his head and push, and as Erik kneels between his feet Sebastian does slide his finger's ends through close-cropped hair, over a heavy brow and a sharp cheekbone, down the hollow beneath and along the strong jawline. This one's more than fit to attract men and women alike, and when the news of him gets round, Sebastian might make nearly as much off Erik as he does off Charles.
When Erik has finished clumsily folding the breechclout Sebastian tips his head up by his stubborn chin and asks, "Have you sucked a cock before?" Erik's water-colored eyes narrow to glittering slits as he nods, and Sebastian strokes his brow just to feel his angry tremble. "Then show me what you know, but if I feel a tooth, well, I'll just have to beat Charles."
Erik's strong, turning his head despite both Sebastian's hands to glance at Charles, who sits curled with knees tucked to chin. Squaring his shoulders in amusing resignation, Erik leans in to his task, and for all his reluctance his mouth is hot and sweet around Sebastian's cock, his tongue a strong unflagging caress as he sucks steadily, though his head doesn't move and his hands stay clenched in fists on his thighs. All in all it's a more than passable suckling, unwavering as a drumbeat but spiced by the resentment in every hard line of Erik's body, and as the pleasure builds Sebastian grips him by the ears and contemplates spending in his mouth to see his reaction.
This is meant as a lesson, though, so Sebastian masters himself and magnanaimously pushes Erik back. "Good, enough," he breathes, a bit reedily, as Erik gasps and rubs his knuckles across his glistening mouth. "Enough. Not bad at all, but let's see how Charles does it."
As Charles unfolds from the bed, Erik springs up; before he can go anywhere Sebastian catches his arm, squeezing the resilient dense muscle for the glee of it. The boy may think himself too good for this, but his cock's upcurved with interest, and Sebastian watches Charles notice, running his eyes over Erik like he'd take him without charging. Likely he would given the choice, the pretty slut, but all his choices belong to Sebastian, whose blood surges at the sight of Charles sinking to his haunches, the big blue eyes gazing up at his face past his cock. "Suck me well," he says as he settles his free hand into Charles's hair, "and you can have him for dessert."
When their eyes meet they both blush, just as Emma reported, and Charles is still looking at Erik when Sebastian hauls him onto his cock.
Charles retaliates, as he does, with all his artistry, the rippling caress of lips and tongue as he bobs his head and swallows around Sebastian's cockhead, the flicker of soft fingertips behind Sebastian's balls as the other hand curves warm over his thigh. Sebastian gasps before he can master himself, and Erik snorts a possible laugh, so he squeezes the boy's wiry arm all the harder. "Watch how Charles bounces his head," Sebastian points out for Erik's benefit, "how he uses his hands, how he leans in close and moves his mouth." He has more to say but Charles's throat flutters around him and he has to groan through clenched teeth.
Erik watches, more raptly than obediently, lower lip still shiny wet and soft with wonder, but then Charles is a singular creature. His lashes flutter on his pinkened cheeks as he sucks, pushing his head down forcefully now, swallowing steadily as Sebastian's tingling balls pull up in readiness. Sebastian should really point out the finer details of Charles's technique but he can only murmur, "Yes, boy, yes," clutching Erik's arm for support as the tremors of pleasure take him, fountaining up his spine and shivering down his thighs.
When he can trust his legs again, Sebastian lets go of his boys and drops into the nearest chair; Erik bears a beautiful red armband of finger-bruises as he reaches to help Charles up, and Charles swallows hard, the bump bobbing in his long fine throat, and shines a smile on Erik in return until Sebastian clears his throat. Grinning at Charles's round eyes and Erik's narrowed ones, he says warmly, "Well done, Charles." As ever in good instruction, it's time for a reward. "Now teach Erik to kiss, would you? Feel free to make yourself comfortable, the bed's still right there."
It's a simple, generous request, but Erik finally snaps, face blanching, and fury looks delicious on him. "Do you seriously--" He keeps speaking as Sebastian rises, despite Charles's prudent headshake and urgent hands. "Expect us to make a spectacle of--" Indeed, he doesn't shut it till Sebastian closes a hand round his throat, but Sebastian backs him up the three steps just to make the point, tut-tutting as he thumps the rebellious boy against the wall.
"I expect," Sebastian drawls, looking into those icewater eyes, lifting his other hand to brush his forefinger across that panting narrow mouth, "you to do as I tell you. Or else." He shoves Erik back to the middle of the room, and to his credit the boy keeps his feet, catching himself on Charles's outstretched hands. "Now go kiss Charles."
Erik spares him a moment's glare, but Charles is a compelling thing, and when he tugs Sebastian watches with amusement as Erik's eyes thaw and their hands tangle, as Charles paces backwards towards the bed. As he settles himself in his chair again, Sebastian remembers to add, "Oh, and don't peak, either of you, or I'll beat the other until he can't stand and tie him to a bed for tonight's custom."
Erik's back stiffens. Charles nods, eyes shutting. Then Erik slides a knee onto the bed, nestling Charles between his legs, gathers Charles's face in his hands and kisses him.
In truth it appears Erik needs no instruction, his mouth as tender on Charles's lips as it was firm around Sebastian's cock, their sleek limbs sliding together. They make a pretty picture entwined on Sebastian's bed, hands wrapped around shoulders and calves hooked behind knees, and he watches appraisingly, noting twists of hip and caresses of lip as his blood begins to warm again within him. Soon enough Charles is sighing that pretty lilting moan as Erik devours his mouth, cradling him close with all four limbs, and the tenor music of it lifts Sebastian's spirits and his cock until it calls for his fingers curled and sliding as he watches his boys writhe together.
At least until they forget themselves, and him, and start rutting in earnest, and while the flashing glimpses of ruddy cock rubbing against cock are delightful indeed and having the excuse to beat Erik and then fuck him is sorely tempting, he might be the one to come first, dooming Charles, and Sebastian does try to keep his best whore in reasonable condition. So when Erik sighs long and low, Sebastian stands, strides over to the bed, and grips him by both shoulders.
For a glorious moment, Erik forgets himself and fights, struggling to cling to Charles and elbow Sebastian away, but a box to the ear reminds him of who and where he is, and his arms go limp as he lets Sebastian haul him up. "Hold that thought, my boy," Sebastian tells Erik as he shoves him back, smiling to see the mulish set of his jaw, and takes his place over Charles. "Prettily done," he says, and Charles trembles under Sebastian's lips brushed between his eyes. "Go fetch the greasepot and come back directly."
Charles at least does as he's told with acquiescent grace while Sebastian kneels in the middle of his bed. "Slick me" is hardly necessary but Sebastian can enjoy the look on Erik's face as he says it, the twin spots of color high on those bladelike cheekbones and how his fists clenched at his sides frame his furiously red cock. Sebastian grins with the pleasure of Charles's fingers and Erik's rage, enjoying both as Charles prepares him. "Now turn and face Erik there," he orders, and Charles glances at him quickly but does it, his long pale back ornamented by a rosy bite on one shoulderblade, left by some customer. "Your thighs outside mine -- there you are. Look at him, watch him watching you." Sebastian rubs a thumb across Charles's crinkled entrance as he speaks, gripping a firm buttock in his other hand, watching his boys share a look palpable as a rope.
When he pulls Charles back onto his cock, Charles makes a sweet noise, high and breaking, but doesn't shut his eyes. That noise vibrates through blood and bone, and for a moment Sebastian's hands tighten until Charles's hipbones creak beneath them, as his nerves burn to shove Charles facedown and fuck him as hard as he's capable. It takes a long blazing moment, sunk into the gripping heat of Charles's body, to remember he has a better idea.
Instead he slides his hands up Charles's chest, tweaking both pert nipples as he pulls Charles up, smiling at his shuddering gasp and the damp warmth of his sweat-slicked back, murmuring, "Arms up, hands behind my neck," into his redolent hair. "Don't let go." He can't help rocking up once, twice, thrice into Charles's taut gorgeous flesh, listening to each breathy whimper as he does so, but soon enough he gets a hold of himself and extends a hand. "Erik, come here and grease yourself."
Erik's eyebrows climb his forehead but he does it, cock bobbing as he steps forward and takes the greasepot, brow creasing as he runs slick fingers up and down its length. Charles cautiously rests his head on Sebastian's shoulder, and Sebastian lets him get away with it; he'll need every advantage soon enough. "Kneel between my knees, there. Take Charles's thighs in your hands, I know you want to. Lift him up and nestle yourself in alongside me. No need for that face, he can take it and more. Another day I'll show you how sweetly he takes a fist."
Erik looks plainly disbelieving, but he obeys, long fingers cradling Charles's thighs, and Sebastian hisses through his teeth as Erik groans and Charles cries high, at the sweet slick slide of the boy's cock in beside his own. "I won't hurt him," Erik hisses, but he's already inside Charles when he says it, and Sebastian has to chuckle.
He's in a kind mood, though, so that's all he does. "Are you hurt, pet?" he breathes into Charles's hair, and Charles gasps, shuddering down to the bottom of his lungs, rolling his head in a sideways shake. "See, he loves it. Feel him clench around you, stroking you inside his hot body. This is what you will do when a client fucks you, my boy. This is how you give pleasure and earn coin." Erik grits his teeth, stubborn to the end, but Charles sobs high and Erik's eyes go round as eggs, and despite all his tenderhearted concern his cock twitches alongside Sebastian's. "Touch him, Erik," Sebastian croons, sliding one hand from Charles's soft-skinned hip to the bony crest of Erik's. "Stroke him. Bring him off and feel how it is to be inside him when pleasure takes him, if you can do it before the urge to move and thrust and fuck overtakes you."
Erik tosses an icy glare at Sebastian, or tries to, but he's too melted by all Charles's heat. He strokes Charles with his greased fingers and Charles arches into the touch, sobbing in racking delight as his fingers tighten desperately behind Sebastian's neck, fluttering so tight around them both he wrenches moans from them both. He truly is the best whore in the house, and Sebastian kisses his ear, squeezes Erik's hip and luxuriates in them both.
Trembling now, Erik pushes forward and kisses Charles openmouthed, his wrist twisting the way Sebastian's seen Charles likes. Good, he's a quick study. Charles jiggles and writhes, up and down and back and forth, dancing in place around their cocks and into Erik's fist, and Sebastian can feel sweat runnel down the furrow of his spine as he shudders, struggling hard to keep himself still, to make himself watch what his boys can do.
Charles's scream is muffled but clear, and Erik groans in answer as Charles spasms within and without, coming in high spurts that spatter Erik's chest and chin and even fly over to daub Sebastian's shoulder. Sebastian kisses Charles's nape and grips Erik with both hands, and just as the flutters begin to abate, at the moment when Charles must be most sensitive, Sebastian drives up into him, stroking along Erik's cock. Charles screams again and Erik startles, pulling his mouth away to glare at Sebastian, lines crinkling between his eyes and a chiding obviously forming on his lips --
-- but Sebastian grins and thrusts up, bouncing them both, fucking them both, and Erik's mouth falls open even as he tries to fight it, his hips twitch up into Charles despite or because of the delicious agony threading through Charles's sobs. Sebastian thrusts up and Erik thrusts counterpoint, wildness surging in spate through those liquid eyes, and all he can do is clutch Charles, apologetically kissing that whimpering mouth as his hips follow Sebastian's, their cocks rubbing together within Charles's twitching-tight body until Erik's eyes clench shut, tears running down his cheeks. "Now, my boy," Sebastian rumbles, and Erik peaks for him in slippery wet jets alongside his cock.
Sebastian growls, well pleased, peels Charles's hands from his nape and pushes them all forward together, rocking Erik onto his back and Charles onto his chest; he leans down to lick a tear from Charles's tight-closed eye as he starts pounding the boy the way he's wanted to, rubbing Erik's pleasure-tender cock for good measure as both boys sob beneath him. Fucking them both, well and truly satisfied in every fingersbreadth, Sebastian reaches a second peak in long exquisite pulses that empty him out till his balls swing hollowly against Charles's throbbing ass.
When Sebastian opens his eyes, dragging himself from Charles's clinging body, he finds Charles shivering and whimpering, hands bloodlessly tight on Erik's shoulders and ear pressed to Erik's heart, and Erik staring up through slitted eyes as he strokes Charles's cheek with a shaking hand. Just beautiful, both of them. He laughs and pats Erik's face, feeling Erik tremble to hold still, and says, "And you peak on command. How delightful."
Erik wrenches his head away, and Sebastian is too pleased to slap him more than lightly. He stands up, looking down at his collapsed boys, and crosses the room to take a draught of water and scrub himself off with a cloth. There's a few soft groans from the bed, and when Sebastian turns around Charles is splayed out on his back, eyes still shut and mouth still gasping, and Erik's still petting him, running fingers through his hair.
Sebastian crosses the room again, smacks Erik's hand away from Charles's face, and shoves him back so he tumbles off the bed in a flurry of gangly limbs. "That's too much," he explains as Erik glares up from the floor. "After the client's had their pleasure you become brisk and efficient, not soppy. You must leave them pleased but not quite sated, always wanting just a bit more. That's how you get them to come back time and again."
"Charles is not a client," Erik counters, so Sebastian hits him again, in his smart mouth this time.
"They say a boy's ears are on his back," he reminds Erik. "Must I beat you before you'll listen?" Erik tightens his fists, so Sebastian raises his, but soft hands land on his side.
"Please," Charles begs, all huge eyes and rosy mouth, and he has done well this morning.
So Sebastian ruffles his damp soft hair. "I suppose you deserve a treat," he says to Charles, and reaches down to grip a strong-boned wrist and pull Erik to his feet. "Go down to a bathing room. You may disport yourselves till the noon meal, but be ready by then for the day's custom."
Wondrously, Erik deigns to nod, and Sebastian smiles and ruffles his hair too, leaning after him when he tries to duck away. Erik helps Charles up, and when Charles staggers from such a thorough fucking, Erik loops an arm across his back to help him towards their tunics. Sebastian scoops the garments up and hands them over, saying, "perhaps you might wait until after you've washed?"
Clutching the tunics, Erik turns them to go, and as he watches them walk away, long legs and toothsome rears, Sebastian settles back into his chair, relaxing as he savors a morning's work well done.
Coda
"Oh, Erik," Charles cries out, face buried in his bosom friend's neck, "Oh, Erik. I knew you'd find me, but oh, how could they take you too? Are you all right? Is Raven? Did they take her?"
"Raven's fine, she's in the castle." Erik holds Charles gently, as if Charles might break now, after everything, after the last eight months. "They only took me because I went to the next village and offered myself for their tithe. I had to find you. I had to."
Charles kisses Erik's chin and pulls back, smiling even when Erik lowers him to the stone bench and he hisses at its chilly sting. "Thank you for finding me."
"I'll do more than that." Erik's fists clench as if of their own accord. "I'll kill that bastard. I would have done it just now, if there had been one dagger out, but all of them were inside clay or wood. I could feel them but couldn't call them."
"It's all right." Charles kisses Erik's knuckles, one hand and then the other. "You would have tried and he would have killed you. He was a soldier before, he's strong as an ox." He tugs Erik to sit beside him on the bench in the tub, and toes open the cistern release. "Now you're here."
"So what, now we both slave away here? How can you bear this?" Erik's fingers skim his tear-scalded cheeks, his bitten shoulder, the marks of Sebastian's and others' hands on his hips.
"No," Charles says, in the firm voice that made Erik let him volunteer as their village's tithe, that has always made Erik listen. "No one knows how I know what the clients want. No one knows what you can do. I have a plan to get everyone out, to lock up Sebastian and his crew in their rooms and leave them when we set this place ablaze. I've had a plan for months, but I've needed someone I can trust with me. Now you're here."
Erik looks down at their hands, at the water rising around their knees, washing away Sebastian's touch, every touch except theirs on each other. "I swore I'd find you and get you free."
"You will. You'll help me free everyone." Charles lifts his chin and waits for Erik to look at him. "You will?"
Erik sighs, eyes crinkling, and one side of his mouth curls up. "I will," he promises, and they seal it with a kiss.
Title: Rose In The Fisted Glove
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Rating: NC-17 with warnings.
Pairing: Charles/Erik/Sebastian [Shaw]. Also, Emma/Shaw in passing.
Content Advisory: Nonconsensual. AU, prostitution, slavery, threesome, double penetration, shenanigans.
All Thanks To: Whichever anon requested this on ye olde kinke meme.
Disclaimer: This fanwork has been created for pleasure only and not for profit.
Title from "Love the one you're with" for no good reason.
Charles is Sebastian's best whore.
And Sebastian's become a fair judge, considering he owns and runs the finest house of pleasure in this bustling market town. His years as a mercenary gave him an eye for how best a captive might be used -- let the troops fuck this one, save that one to sell for gold, keep that big one drugged and he'll fetch a pretty price from the builders -- and he's translated it into keeping his house well stocked with pretty, docile, toothsome slaves, fresh enough to draw in the custom and sturdy enough not to break down too soon.
But in his ten years of whoremongering, Sebastian's never yet seen anything to outmatch Charles. In the seven months since he buried his hand in soft brown hair and fetched the boy down off the auction block, Sebastian's made half as much again off his flesh alone. Charles is lively and charming when he's rested and he bruises prettily, his big eyes all the more luminous when sheened with tears, and he's even more fuckable when pale with weariness, his pretty begging mouth just inviting another cock. In their time together, Sebastian's grown quite fond of his little Charles, and keeps him carefully to see he doesn't steal himself.
Still, it takes more than one lad, even one as winsome as Charles, to stock a brothel. When another boy wears out spectacularly -- tried to run, and when Azazel caught him, tried to fight, the more fool he -- Sebastian heads out to the auction block and finds a splendid creature upon it, a tall icy-eyed youth with high-slung cheekbones and lean muscles, who looks down his nose at the auctioneer as if he thinks the whole spectacle's beneath him.
When asked his name the boy regards Sebastian disdainfully, and when cuffed across the face he merely sneers, leaving it to the auctioneer to answer, "Erik," for him. Sebastian almost chortles before he catches himself -- breaking this one will be worth the purchase price in itself.
They start with the standard treatment -- three days locked in the small cellar without food, water, or company, nothing but all the noise of the brothel overhead. When Sebastian descends the spiral stairs on the fourth day, a cool goblet of rich wine in hand, the eyes that peer up at him are darkly ringed, if no less icy, the high cheekbones sharp as daggers though tracked with desperate tears. Sebastian likes this one, he thinks, as he tells Erik his choices, to drink and behave and live, or to stay in the cellar till he rots. Not that Sebastian intends to waste his money that way.
Erik takes the goblet as if he's considering flinging it back in Sebastian's face, but that's why Azazel stands three steps up, knife gleaming in his hand. At last the boy drinks, and frowns handsomely as he wobbles from the drugged liquor. Sebastian likes this one quite a lot.
However, though his raw haughty grace has its appeal, Erik needs a little training. When his chatelaine Emma comes to his bed that night Sebastian asks her advice; she's a practical, delightfully cruel woman with many good ideas, and her eyes glitter like the crystal jewels she favors as she reports that when she fed the boys that evening she saw Erik and Charles trade a glance, both turning rosy-cheeked. "Why not use Charles to teach Erik and tantalize him too?" Emma suggests. "Tell him he can have Charles again if he does especially well."
"This could be amusing," Sebastian agrees, and kisses her for thanks as he throws an arm across her incurved waist, settling in to sleep.
The next morning is the Sun's day, when all the decent folk of the town go to hear the priests, as if they haven't spent the previous night and their gold and silver in Sebastian's pleasure house. Ordinarily Sebastian lets his household sleep in this morning, resting up for the rest of the week, so he knows when he sends for his newest and his best he won't be disturbed. Not yet adapted to the rhythms of the house, Erik arrives bright-eyed, striding a step ahead of Janos; he nods as if summoned by an equal, so Sebastian closes a hand around the back of the boy's neck to remind him of his place, pressing a thumb into the hard muscle.
Erik glares sidelong, and Sebastian grips him harder and grins wider. "You'd best learn to give up those insolent looks," he advises. "Your face is fair enough, it could stand the loss of an eye and still draw custom. Perhaps even both."
Erik goes appealingly pale and focuses his gaze on his feet. Sebastian keeps hold of him anyway until the door rattles under Azazel's customary heavy pound. "Come in," Sebastian calls, his heartbeat quickening in anticipation, and Charles doesn't disappoint, shoulders stooped and eyelids purple with exhaustion, arms folded around himself so vulnerably it makes a man want to tear into him. Azazel sends him in with a slap to one pert buttock, and he stumbles over his feet and nearly falls, catching himself against a chair, his lush red mouth a ring of dismay.
Under Sebastian's hand Erik twitches as if to step forward, and Sebastian has to laugh. They're just too sweet. "Erik, Charles here will help me teach you your duties," he says, and they both regard him with wide uncertain eyes. "Well, don't just stand there staring, my boys. Strip and over to the bed."
Charles obediently pulls off his tunic -- in truth, Sebastian's not certain why he even lets him wear a thread, considering his wiry sleekness and silky pale skin, rippling over his ribs as he inhales -- but Erik stares dumbly at his hands until Charles reaches for him. "Erik," he says gently, and when Erik looks up at him Charles smiles, casting a nervous glance at Sebastian as he grips Erik's shoulders and tugs the tunic upwards.
Sebastian just observes and waits for the best time to be heard; when Erik is watching Charles fold the tunic is the moment to order, "What Charles just did for you? Come do that for me." The moment to watch Erik's eyes flash and his mouth tighten sullenly, to smile and add, "But don't neglect to say, 'May I make you more comfortable, sir?' Our clients enjoy that."
Erik visibly grits his teeth behind his thinned lips, and Charles inhales to say something foolish, but Sebastian didn't buy either of them for their chatter. A flick of the hand dismisses Charles to sit on the bed, a crooked finger orders Erik forward. His, "May I make you more comfortable, sir?" is delivered in a halting growl that warrants a closed-fisted blow, but Sebastian can already predict the mounting surcharges he'll exact from those who'll want to beat the insolence out of this handsome thing, so he does nothing for now. Instead he smiles, spreading his hands, and watches as Erik undoes his belt, glaring as if to set him afire.
Even dressed for indoors Sebastian wears far more than he allows his boys and girls, and now he wishes he'd added cape, coat, and boots, just to prolong the pleasure of Erik's long fingers sliding over his body as the boy resentfully strips him. When Erik comes to the trousers he pauses nearly long enough for Sebastian to grab his head and push, and as Erik kneels between his feet Sebastian does slide his finger's ends through close-cropped hair, over a heavy brow and a sharp cheekbone, down the hollow beneath and along the strong jawline. This one's more than fit to attract men and women alike, and when the news of him gets round, Sebastian might make nearly as much off Erik as he does off Charles.
When Erik has finished clumsily folding the breechclout Sebastian tips his head up by his stubborn chin and asks, "Have you sucked a cock before?" Erik's water-colored eyes narrow to glittering slits as he nods, and Sebastian strokes his brow just to feel his angry tremble. "Then show me what you know, but if I feel a tooth, well, I'll just have to beat Charles."
Erik's strong, turning his head despite both Sebastian's hands to glance at Charles, who sits curled with knees tucked to chin. Squaring his shoulders in amusing resignation, Erik leans in to his task, and for all his reluctance his mouth is hot and sweet around Sebastian's cock, his tongue a strong unflagging caress as he sucks steadily, though his head doesn't move and his hands stay clenched in fists on his thighs. All in all it's a more than passable suckling, unwavering as a drumbeat but spiced by the resentment in every hard line of Erik's body, and as the pleasure builds Sebastian grips him by the ears and contemplates spending in his mouth to see his reaction.
This is meant as a lesson, though, so Sebastian masters himself and magnanaimously pushes Erik back. "Good, enough," he breathes, a bit reedily, as Erik gasps and rubs his knuckles across his glistening mouth. "Enough. Not bad at all, but let's see how Charles does it."
As Charles unfolds from the bed, Erik springs up; before he can go anywhere Sebastian catches his arm, squeezing the resilient dense muscle for the glee of it. The boy may think himself too good for this, but his cock's upcurved with interest, and Sebastian watches Charles notice, running his eyes over Erik like he'd take him without charging. Likely he would given the choice, the pretty slut, but all his choices belong to Sebastian, whose blood surges at the sight of Charles sinking to his haunches, the big blue eyes gazing up at his face past his cock. "Suck me well," he says as he settles his free hand into Charles's hair, "and you can have him for dessert."
When their eyes meet they both blush, just as Emma reported, and Charles is still looking at Erik when Sebastian hauls him onto his cock.
Charles retaliates, as he does, with all his artistry, the rippling caress of lips and tongue as he bobs his head and swallows around Sebastian's cockhead, the flicker of soft fingertips behind Sebastian's balls as the other hand curves warm over his thigh. Sebastian gasps before he can master himself, and Erik snorts a possible laugh, so he squeezes the boy's wiry arm all the harder. "Watch how Charles bounces his head," Sebastian points out for Erik's benefit, "how he uses his hands, how he leans in close and moves his mouth." He has more to say but Charles's throat flutters around him and he has to groan through clenched teeth.
Erik watches, more raptly than obediently, lower lip still shiny wet and soft with wonder, but then Charles is a singular creature. His lashes flutter on his pinkened cheeks as he sucks, pushing his head down forcefully now, swallowing steadily as Sebastian's tingling balls pull up in readiness. Sebastian should really point out the finer details of Charles's technique but he can only murmur, "Yes, boy, yes," clutching Erik's arm for support as the tremors of pleasure take him, fountaining up his spine and shivering down his thighs.
When he can trust his legs again, Sebastian lets go of his boys and drops into the nearest chair; Erik bears a beautiful red armband of finger-bruises as he reaches to help Charles up, and Charles swallows hard, the bump bobbing in his long fine throat, and shines a smile on Erik in return until Sebastian clears his throat. Grinning at Charles's round eyes and Erik's narrowed ones, he says warmly, "Well done, Charles." As ever in good instruction, it's time for a reward. "Now teach Erik to kiss, would you? Feel free to make yourself comfortable, the bed's still right there."
It's a simple, generous request, but Erik finally snaps, face blanching, and fury looks delicious on him. "Do you seriously--" He keeps speaking as Sebastian rises, despite Charles's prudent headshake and urgent hands. "Expect us to make a spectacle of--" Indeed, he doesn't shut it till Sebastian closes a hand round his throat, but Sebastian backs him up the three steps just to make the point, tut-tutting as he thumps the rebellious boy against the wall.
"I expect," Sebastian drawls, looking into those icewater eyes, lifting his other hand to brush his forefinger across that panting narrow mouth, "you to do as I tell you. Or else." He shoves Erik back to the middle of the room, and to his credit the boy keeps his feet, catching himself on Charles's outstretched hands. "Now go kiss Charles."
Erik spares him a moment's glare, but Charles is a compelling thing, and when he tugs Sebastian watches with amusement as Erik's eyes thaw and their hands tangle, as Charles paces backwards towards the bed. As he settles himself in his chair again, Sebastian remembers to add, "Oh, and don't peak, either of you, or I'll beat the other until he can't stand and tie him to a bed for tonight's custom."
Erik's back stiffens. Charles nods, eyes shutting. Then Erik slides a knee onto the bed, nestling Charles between his legs, gathers Charles's face in his hands and kisses him.
In truth it appears Erik needs no instruction, his mouth as tender on Charles's lips as it was firm around Sebastian's cock, their sleek limbs sliding together. They make a pretty picture entwined on Sebastian's bed, hands wrapped around shoulders and calves hooked behind knees, and he watches appraisingly, noting twists of hip and caresses of lip as his blood begins to warm again within him. Soon enough Charles is sighing that pretty lilting moan as Erik devours his mouth, cradling him close with all four limbs, and the tenor music of it lifts Sebastian's spirits and his cock until it calls for his fingers curled and sliding as he watches his boys writhe together.
At least until they forget themselves, and him, and start rutting in earnest, and while the flashing glimpses of ruddy cock rubbing against cock are delightful indeed and having the excuse to beat Erik and then fuck him is sorely tempting, he might be the one to come first, dooming Charles, and Sebastian does try to keep his best whore in reasonable condition. So when Erik sighs long and low, Sebastian stands, strides over to the bed, and grips him by both shoulders.
For a glorious moment, Erik forgets himself and fights, struggling to cling to Charles and elbow Sebastian away, but a box to the ear reminds him of who and where he is, and his arms go limp as he lets Sebastian haul him up. "Hold that thought, my boy," Sebastian tells Erik as he shoves him back, smiling to see the mulish set of his jaw, and takes his place over Charles. "Prettily done," he says, and Charles trembles under Sebastian's lips brushed between his eyes. "Go fetch the greasepot and come back directly."
Charles at least does as he's told with acquiescent grace while Sebastian kneels in the middle of his bed. "Slick me" is hardly necessary but Sebastian can enjoy the look on Erik's face as he says it, the twin spots of color high on those bladelike cheekbones and how his fists clenched at his sides frame his furiously red cock. Sebastian grins with the pleasure of Charles's fingers and Erik's rage, enjoying both as Charles prepares him. "Now turn and face Erik there," he orders, and Charles glances at him quickly but does it, his long pale back ornamented by a rosy bite on one shoulderblade, left by some customer. "Your thighs outside mine -- there you are. Look at him, watch him watching you." Sebastian rubs a thumb across Charles's crinkled entrance as he speaks, gripping a firm buttock in his other hand, watching his boys share a look palpable as a rope.
When he pulls Charles back onto his cock, Charles makes a sweet noise, high and breaking, but doesn't shut his eyes. That noise vibrates through blood and bone, and for a moment Sebastian's hands tighten until Charles's hipbones creak beneath them, as his nerves burn to shove Charles facedown and fuck him as hard as he's capable. It takes a long blazing moment, sunk into the gripping heat of Charles's body, to remember he has a better idea.
Instead he slides his hands up Charles's chest, tweaking both pert nipples as he pulls Charles up, smiling at his shuddering gasp and the damp warmth of his sweat-slicked back, murmuring, "Arms up, hands behind my neck," into his redolent hair. "Don't let go." He can't help rocking up once, twice, thrice into Charles's taut gorgeous flesh, listening to each breathy whimper as he does so, but soon enough he gets a hold of himself and extends a hand. "Erik, come here and grease yourself."
Erik's eyebrows climb his forehead but he does it, cock bobbing as he steps forward and takes the greasepot, brow creasing as he runs slick fingers up and down its length. Charles cautiously rests his head on Sebastian's shoulder, and Sebastian lets him get away with it; he'll need every advantage soon enough. "Kneel between my knees, there. Take Charles's thighs in your hands, I know you want to. Lift him up and nestle yourself in alongside me. No need for that face, he can take it and more. Another day I'll show you how sweetly he takes a fist."
Erik looks plainly disbelieving, but he obeys, long fingers cradling Charles's thighs, and Sebastian hisses through his teeth as Erik groans and Charles cries high, at the sweet slick slide of the boy's cock in beside his own. "I won't hurt him," Erik hisses, but he's already inside Charles when he says it, and Sebastian has to chuckle.
He's in a kind mood, though, so that's all he does. "Are you hurt, pet?" he breathes into Charles's hair, and Charles gasps, shuddering down to the bottom of his lungs, rolling his head in a sideways shake. "See, he loves it. Feel him clench around you, stroking you inside his hot body. This is what you will do when a client fucks you, my boy. This is how you give pleasure and earn coin." Erik grits his teeth, stubborn to the end, but Charles sobs high and Erik's eyes go round as eggs, and despite all his tenderhearted concern his cock twitches alongside Sebastian's. "Touch him, Erik," Sebastian croons, sliding one hand from Charles's soft-skinned hip to the bony crest of Erik's. "Stroke him. Bring him off and feel how it is to be inside him when pleasure takes him, if you can do it before the urge to move and thrust and fuck overtakes you."
Erik tosses an icy glare at Sebastian, or tries to, but he's too melted by all Charles's heat. He strokes Charles with his greased fingers and Charles arches into the touch, sobbing in racking delight as his fingers tighten desperately behind Sebastian's neck, fluttering so tight around them both he wrenches moans from them both. He truly is the best whore in the house, and Sebastian kisses his ear, squeezes Erik's hip and luxuriates in them both.
Trembling now, Erik pushes forward and kisses Charles openmouthed, his wrist twisting the way Sebastian's seen Charles likes. Good, he's a quick study. Charles jiggles and writhes, up and down and back and forth, dancing in place around their cocks and into Erik's fist, and Sebastian can feel sweat runnel down the furrow of his spine as he shudders, struggling hard to keep himself still, to make himself watch what his boys can do.
Charles's scream is muffled but clear, and Erik groans in answer as Charles spasms within and without, coming in high spurts that spatter Erik's chest and chin and even fly over to daub Sebastian's shoulder. Sebastian kisses Charles's nape and grips Erik with both hands, and just as the flutters begin to abate, at the moment when Charles must be most sensitive, Sebastian drives up into him, stroking along Erik's cock. Charles screams again and Erik startles, pulling his mouth away to glare at Sebastian, lines crinkling between his eyes and a chiding obviously forming on his lips --
-- but Sebastian grins and thrusts up, bouncing them both, fucking them both, and Erik's mouth falls open even as he tries to fight it, his hips twitch up into Charles despite or because of the delicious agony threading through Charles's sobs. Sebastian thrusts up and Erik thrusts counterpoint, wildness surging in spate through those liquid eyes, and all he can do is clutch Charles, apologetically kissing that whimpering mouth as his hips follow Sebastian's, their cocks rubbing together within Charles's twitching-tight body until Erik's eyes clench shut, tears running down his cheeks. "Now, my boy," Sebastian rumbles, and Erik peaks for him in slippery wet jets alongside his cock.
Sebastian growls, well pleased, peels Charles's hands from his nape and pushes them all forward together, rocking Erik onto his back and Charles onto his chest; he leans down to lick a tear from Charles's tight-closed eye as he starts pounding the boy the way he's wanted to, rubbing Erik's pleasure-tender cock for good measure as both boys sob beneath him. Fucking them both, well and truly satisfied in every fingersbreadth, Sebastian reaches a second peak in long exquisite pulses that empty him out till his balls swing hollowly against Charles's throbbing ass.
When Sebastian opens his eyes, dragging himself from Charles's clinging body, he finds Charles shivering and whimpering, hands bloodlessly tight on Erik's shoulders and ear pressed to Erik's heart, and Erik staring up through slitted eyes as he strokes Charles's cheek with a shaking hand. Just beautiful, both of them. He laughs and pats Erik's face, feeling Erik tremble to hold still, and says, "And you peak on command. How delightful."
Erik wrenches his head away, and Sebastian is too pleased to slap him more than lightly. He stands up, looking down at his collapsed boys, and crosses the room to take a draught of water and scrub himself off with a cloth. There's a few soft groans from the bed, and when Sebastian turns around Charles is splayed out on his back, eyes still shut and mouth still gasping, and Erik's still petting him, running fingers through his hair.
Sebastian crosses the room again, smacks Erik's hand away from Charles's face, and shoves him back so he tumbles off the bed in a flurry of gangly limbs. "That's too much," he explains as Erik glares up from the floor. "After the client's had their pleasure you become brisk and efficient, not soppy. You must leave them pleased but not quite sated, always wanting just a bit more. That's how you get them to come back time and again."
"Charles is not a client," Erik counters, so Sebastian hits him again, in his smart mouth this time.
"They say a boy's ears are on his back," he reminds Erik. "Must I beat you before you'll listen?" Erik tightens his fists, so Sebastian raises his, but soft hands land on his side.
"Please," Charles begs, all huge eyes and rosy mouth, and he has done well this morning.
So Sebastian ruffles his damp soft hair. "I suppose you deserve a treat," he says to Charles, and reaches down to grip a strong-boned wrist and pull Erik to his feet. "Go down to a bathing room. You may disport yourselves till the noon meal, but be ready by then for the day's custom."
Wondrously, Erik deigns to nod, and Sebastian smiles and ruffles his hair too, leaning after him when he tries to duck away. Erik helps Charles up, and when Charles staggers from such a thorough fucking, Erik loops an arm across his back to help him towards their tunics. Sebastian scoops the garments up and hands them over, saying, "perhaps you might wait until after you've washed?"
Clutching the tunics, Erik turns them to go, and as he watches them walk away, long legs and toothsome rears, Sebastian settles back into his chair, relaxing as he savors a morning's work well done.
"Oh, Erik," Charles cries out, face buried in his bosom friend's neck, "Oh, Erik. I knew you'd find me, but oh, how could they take you too? Are you all right? Is Raven? Did they take her?"
"Raven's fine, she's in the castle." Erik holds Charles gently, as if Charles might break now, after everything, after the last eight months. "They only took me because I went to the next village and offered myself for their tithe. I had to find you. I had to."
Charles kisses Erik's chin and pulls back, smiling even when Erik lowers him to the stone bench and he hisses at its chilly sting. "Thank you for finding me."
"I'll do more than that." Erik's fists clench as if of their own accord. "I'll kill that bastard. I would have done it just now, if there had been one dagger out, but all of them were inside clay or wood. I could feel them but couldn't call them."
"It's all right." Charles kisses Erik's knuckles, one hand and then the other. "You would have tried and he would have killed you. He was a soldier before, he's strong as an ox." He tugs Erik to sit beside him on the bench in the tub, and toes open the cistern release. "Now you're here."
"So what, now we both slave away here? How can you bear this?" Erik's fingers skim his tear-scalded cheeks, his bitten shoulder, the marks of Sebastian's and others' hands on his hips.
"No," Charles says, in the firm voice that made Erik let him volunteer as their village's tithe, that has always made Erik listen. "No one knows how I know what the clients want. No one knows what you can do. I have a plan to get everyone out, to lock up Sebastian and his crew in their rooms and leave them when we set this place ablaze. I've had a plan for months, but I've needed someone I can trust with me. Now you're here."
Erik looks down at their hands, at the water rising around their knees, washing away Sebastian's touch, every touch except theirs on each other. "I swore I'd find you and get you free."
"You will. You'll help me free everyone." Charles lifts his chin and waits for Erik to look at him. "You will?"
Erik sighs, eyes crinkling, and one side of his mouth curls up. "I will," he promises, and they seal it with a kiss.
