Work Text:
Grefgore caught shilo as he stumbled, a lazy grin spread across the prince’s face and his eyes half lidded as his head lolled back to stare up at his guard.
”grefore! Why-d you not tell me this would be sso fun!” His prince slurred as he did a poor attempt at mimicking the dancing around him, “I feel- I feel great!”
grefgore pulled shilo closer to support him, standing as still as the suits of armour back at the castle as the blonde royal swayed in his arms. For a moment, he considered finding the others that they had met, but they were long lost in the sea of kindred illuminated by strobing lights and humming with sound by this point. Even if he had wanted to, they had told grefgore to look after the excitable prince so he could get a taste of how normal people socialised while the other two dealt with business, so they were likely away and too busy to help even if he could find them easily…
Seeing his prince in his arms like this, feeling his soft cheek now pressed against his guard’s chest as he swayed his body to the thumping music, put another thought into grefgore’s mind.
he immediately shook his head- that was something that he should never think- no- so he pushed it away immediately. Such an act would be practically treason! He just couldn’t…… but…. As shilo’s body rocked against his, he thought “if nobody found out, what would the harm truly be? If nobody knew… If shilo didn’t remember……..”
grefore began to walk, half leading half carrying the prince until the two found themselves in a corner he deemed… sufficiently secluded. It wasn’t glamorous- an alleyway not too far from the club, the only doors and shuttered entryways being to several long closed shops and the only way to come down being around the corner.
his prince wouldn’t know. His prince wouldn’t remember. If he spent too much time worrying he would risk the boy sobering up just enough to recollect the events of the night, and then it would be his head.
he dare not strip either of them completely, and so after he laid his prince down on an old crate he gingerly unbuttoned the boy’s fine trousers and pulled them down to his knees.
“Grefore-“ shilo mumbled, words barely discernible from the severity of his slurring now “Wh-t’re y-d’ng”
”I’m sorry… I’m sorry, my prince” Grefgore repeated as he pushed his own trousers down, releasing his aching cock and giving himself a few strokes before he lifted the prince’s trouser-bound legs onto one shoulder with ease.
Grefgore paused to coat two fingers well with saliva, rubbing them into the prince’s pussy before he lined himself up with one hand and began to press in.
shilo’s reaction was one of immediate confusion. He barely seemed to know what was happening as Grefgore slowly pushed into his prince. It wasn’t the slick glide Grefgore always fantasised about, but he could pretend it was. He could pretend that he was deflowering the sheltered prince in a beautifully decorated bedroom in the castle, their nude bodies pressing together as shilo begged for him to take him. He could pretend he wasn’t raping the blackout drunk boy in an alleyway in LA, just for a moment.
shilo whimpered as grefgore’s hips met the back of his thighs, hands grasping and head rolling and bleary eyes fluttering as his alcohol addled mind tried to make sense of the situation he was in. Grefgore breathed heavily, grip tightening on the legs over his shoulder as his other hand found the prince’s hip. The prince was tight, and the slow drag of pleasure as Grefgore had pushed in had the guard panting for a moment.
“oh my- oh my god my prince-“ Grefgore huffed “oh…. You… mngh….”
shilo only whined in response, a noncommittal sound made by a boy barely understanding what was being said to him, but grefgore could pretend that was him asking for more… and who was he to ignore the request of his prince?
he began to move, drawing more sounds from shilo immediately. Gasps and whimpers began to slip from the prince’s lips as Grefgore pulled out, then pushed back in to him at an increasing speed. Shilo tried to push at grefgore’s hand on his hip, to pull his legs from his guard’s grasp, but it only served to add fuel to the other man’s fantasies. Grefgore imagined his prince grasping at the sheets below him, placing his royal hand over his lower one as if to say “please don’t let go”. He imagined shilo was trying to meet his thrusts with inexperienced enthusiasm as he moaned in pleasure instead of writhing to escape while crying out in confusion.
lewd sounds filled the dark corner of the alleyway as Grefgore was truly pounding into shilo at this point. The slick noises of Grefgore’s thrusts and the slap of skin on skin combined with the guard’s panting and the prince’s sobs painted a clear idea of what was happening to anyone unlucky enough to overhear, but Grefgore was barely even thinking of such things now.
the sweet friction of his prince’s pussy around his cock was exquisite, as if every time he pulled out shilo was trying to keep him in. He had wanted to do this for so long… the prince was like a prize he was never allowed to touch- a meal he was never allowed to taste as a guard in the castle. For so long he had felt like a cat admiring a canary in its cage. It truly was for the prince’s own good that he hadn’t been let out… but really, it was his choice. He wanted to be here. He accepted the risk that this would happen. Grefgore was snapped out of his thoughts abruptly as he heard the first moan leave shilo’s lips.
With that sound, it was like a switch had been flipped in grefgore’s mind. He began to speed up, pounding more desperately now. He was eager to please himself, eager to please his prince, willing to take what he wanted and convince himself that the prince wanted it as that pressure began to build in his core. He leaned down, pushing the prince’s legs toward his chest as he chased the sensation, and shilo made weak punched-out sounds with each thrust.
“I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I’m sorry-“ Grefgore cried as he felt his pleasure mounting, everything around him falling away. It was just him and his prince. Two points of light in a void of darkness as he felt his core grow ever tighter. Nothing mattered- he needed his prince. He needed him more than anything.
”g-gh” shilo panted “gref-gore…”
And that was all it took.
grefgore gasped, bracing himself against the boy and the box below him as his vision sparked brilliant white and he felt himself spill into the prince. He imagined shilo feeling Grefgore releasing into him, that warm pulsing feeling, and he moaned as he rocked in and out a few more times before stilling completely.
he breathed.
shilo whimpered
Grefgore gasped in horror at what he had done.
he immediately pulled out from the prince, tucking himself back into his trousers as adrenaline began to surge through his body. He was dead. He was so dead. He was a vile excuse for a kindred- a disgusting unliving being who deserved nothing short of being strung up for the sunrise to reduce to ash and bone. he pulled shilo’s trousers up, buttoning them in a panic and hauling the boy up from where he now lay unconscious on the crate. He would have to make an excuse- he was going to ask questions wasnt he…. Even if he didn’t remember he would notice something was wrong… fuck…. He needed to come up with something quick before he got back to the club… what if arthur and emizel were there already- what if they could tell… what if they could smell the sex on him….. shit- oh fuck…
He would tell them shilo was swept away from him. He would tell them that he was just there one moment and gone the next, vanished into the crowd. He would tell them that when he next found the prince, he was unconscious in a corner. He would tell them that nothing seemed wrong, that the prince didn’t look hurt, so he did not think that anything was wrong except that he fell asleep from drinking too much.
yeah…. That would probably work as an excuse…
Hopefully
