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Gregor bit his lip, his cheeks flushing as he felt an unfamiliar but somehow not a completely unwelcomed stiffness from the monk who was pressed into him from behind.
"Antonius...?" Gregor murmured, doing his best to not attract any attention from Siskin who was standing no less than fifteen feet away, hopefully enraptured with his current book.
Antonius disregarded Gregor and continued to slowly guide his hand across the parchment, correctly forming the letters of words in a language still completely foreign to Gregor, but he couldn't possibly focus on what they were set to accomplish this evening in the scriptorium.
Gregor felt his thighs involuntarily clench when he felt Antonius adjust his hips, and Gregor felt his length pressed flush against his ass, even through both of their habits. The heat in his cheeks refused to die down as Antonius got bold enough to rest his chin on Gregor's shoulder and smiled into it when Gregor couldn't will himself to push it away.
As the corners of his lips turned up, Gregor could easily picture it: that always gentle, always disarming smile that he'd seen on Antonius' face. The remnants of Antonius' facial hair brushed against and tickled his skin, and the thrill of them getting caught like this made him shudder from the sensation.
Damn the condescending comments from Brother Librarian. As cliché as it would have sounded coming from any other novice, Gregor never really came here to fully submit himself to monastic life.
Gregor was pulled away from his thoughts by the cool night air of the library when he felt the hem of his habit rising up past his ankles, his knees, then his thighs and hips until his braies were fully exposed. He stood completely still, as did Antonius, as they both listened to the subtle flap of a page being turned from across the room.
Siskin was clearly still distracted, or, Gregor hoped, didn't really care about what he or any of the other monks got up to on their own time. So long as they didn't get involved in what he was doing, Gregor supposed.
Gregor allowed the muscles in his shoulders to finally relax, unlike his fingers still maintaining a tight, white-knuckled grip on each of the sides of the lectern.
Antonius, still holding up the hem of Gregor's habit against his chest, balled it up in his fist and used his other hand to gently slide it across his hip, then over the wiry trail of dark hair between his navel and his braies. When his fingertips dipped ever so slightly beneath the waistband, he held them there in place, and silently waited for Gregor's permission.
Gregor bit his lip. Should he be doing this here, of all places? With another man, no less? This was not what he was expecting, even given what little information he had learned about monastic life up until this point. Was this common in monasteries? With no women allowed, were the men left to sodomize each other?
Gregor mentally shook his head at the blasphemous thought.
A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, conflicted on what he wanted and what Antonius was set on doing with him. He eventually nodded, albeit rather reluctantly.
He glanced past the shelf to check on Siskin, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Hopefully he finally got bored of reading for the night and actually went to bed, Gregor thought, not concerned in the least about the possibility of Siskin leaving to snitch on them.
Gregor felt Antonius' lips against his skin when he spoke. "He doesn't seem like the type to scurry off and do something he'd regret." He said it as though he was reading the back of Gregor's mind, despite making himself believe Siskin didn't care about anyone else.
Gregor was almost taken aback by Antonius; his calm, even tone was momentarily replaced with something dark, something mildly threatening. Either way, hearing his voice lowering an octave made his cock throb in his undergarments.
"You don't think he'll...?" Gregor tried to ask as Antonius' fingers continued to slip further and further down to the base of his length.
"I don't believe he saw anything," Antonius simply replied, wrapping his hand solidly around Gregor's cock. "Even if he did, who would believe him?"
Gregor nodded dumbly as he felt his braies sliding down his hips and legs, and eventually they unceremoniously dropped down to the floor to pool around his ankles. His half-hard cock was now completely exposed to the night air, causing gooseflesh to spread all over his body.
He felt Antonius smile again from his reaction.
If Gregor could be honest, this really wasn't as sinful or as wrong as he initially believed it would be. Antonius was another man, sure, but he knew what he wanted. Gregor couldn't find it in himself to ask him to stop at this point, and silently volunteered to hold his own balled-up habit in his hand to let Antonius have both hands free to do whatever.
Gregor gasped when Antonius reached down to cup his balls in his hand, the other starting to properly and slowly stroke his cock. His teeth dug into his already swollen bottom lip as Antonius thumbed his slit, and a needy moan slipped past his lips as his balls were getting what Gregor believed might have been the best massage he'd ever gotten in his whole life.
"Where'd you... God, learn to do this...?" Gregor breathed, hunching forward when Antonius squeezed his hand around his tip.
"Come now, brother," Antonius teased, voice low. "You can't tell me you've never done this with yourself before."
Antonius let out a small chuckle when Gregor didn't answer, the breath from his nose tickling the nape of Gregor's neck. As the fear of getting caught lingered in the back of his mind, Gregor grounded himself by leaning back against Antonius' lean build, the warmth from his body already melting away his worries. He reached back to hold onto Antonius' thigh, his fingertips digging into the starchy material of his habit, to keep himself steady, to allow himself to become putty in Antonius' skilled hands.
Gregor couldn't believe he was already close as he felt heat building in his lower belly, but right when he was about to finish on the shelf of the lectern, Antonius suddenly removed his hands.
"No–!" Gregor exclaimed, then a hand was placed over his mouth to silence him.
Gregor's eyes darted around the dimly lit room, and instead of seeing anything he heard it: the creaking of the library's door being closed shut, along with a pair of simple slippers dragging across the stone floor.
Siskin had returned, along with Gregor's gnawing anxiety.
But it didn't seem like he was paying any attention to them anymore. Gregor was never more grateful for Siskin's ignorance than at this moment, but God did he return at the worst possible time.
Gregor glanced down at his cockhead: wet, angry red, and throbbing from the intensity. Never in his life had he wanted to strangle a man who did nothing wrong other than deny him what could have been one of the best orgasms he'd gotten in a good while.
Antonius removed his hand and turned Gregor's chin to face him as he placed a finger over his own lips. Gregor swallowed and nodded solemnly before he faced forward again.
Every muscle in Gregor's body froze when Antonius started pulling up the back of his habit and bunched it up to rest against his back.
Heat rushed to his cheeks as he imagined the look on Antonius' face at the sight of his ass fully on display before his eyes. His wild imagination had him picture Antonius biting his own lip, staring hungrily at his behind, like he was a wench walking through town and swaying his hips to grab everyone's attention.
Instead, Antonius spoke words that Gregor never thought he'd ever hear a man like him utter.
"I wish we could take this even further," he whispered against the shell of his ear. "I would've liked to have seen just how well our bodies would fit together."
A cry escaped Gregor's throat as he found himself unable to respond coherently to something so... unexpected, if Gregor could describe it in a way that wouldn't make him come on the spot right there.
Antonius' fingers traced over Gregor's thigh, and Gregor felt his finger linger over the barely healed scar before it moved up to his hip to grab onto. Before Antonius let his other hand return to being deliciously wrapped around Gregor's cock, Gregor felt him rustling with his own habit, and listened to the soft sound of his braies landing on the floor too.
The muffled pop of a cork being removed from a bottle followed after, then the slick noise of Antonius stroking his own cock with what Gregor assumed was some sort of lubricant sent shivers up his spine. He felt Antonius' steadily growing heavy breathing against his neck, and wished that he could turn and watch Antonius quickly lose his composure over such a simple act.
He could try helping him along just to see those thick brows of his knitted together, his mouth agape and Henry's name caught in his throat as he finished on Gregor's habit–
Gregor's mind began to stall. He was wishing for too much from someone he still barely knew, and vice versa.
Antonius planted both of his feet on the outside of Gregor's which got him to brace himself on the lectern, because what came next took him completely by surprise. Antonius grabbed and pulled up both of Gregor's hips to get him on his toes, then his hard, slick cock was pushing between Gregor's inner thighs, and he choked on a noise when the other monk's tip bumped against the back of his balls. Gregor's fingers hooked over the top edge of the lectern, and his eyes were already rolling into the back of his head when Antonius thrusted.
The lectern was worn, old and very uneven. With every jerk of Antonius' hips against Gregor's ass made one of the corners of the object bump hard against the floor in a rhythm.
"Keep it still," Antonius panted, keeping himself as quiet as possible since their one-person audience was still present.
Gregor tightened his hold on the lectern which got it to stop pounding against the floor, but he had to let go with one hand in favor of covering his mouth and not attracting any attention.
Antonius leaned forward and pressed his sweaty forehead between Gregor's shoulder blades. The rough pace between Gregor's thighs picked up, and Gregor's cock jumped when he felt Antonius groan against his back and drops of precum falling onto his knees.
A moan ripped out from Antonius when Gregor tightly squeezed his thighs around his cock. "Gregor... Fuck, Gregor," he panted, soaking the back of Gregor's habit with the moisture of his breath and saliva.
Gregor arched his back when Antonius' hand found his length again to quickly stroke. "My– My name's–" Gregor bit down on his tongue.
Thankfully Antonius didn't hear him speak over his own ragged breathing.
Gregor's habit was loose, he noticed when it slid almost entirely off one shoulder. Or perhaps it was being pulled off on purpose by Antonius, and when Gregor looked back at him, he was correct. Antonius had grabbed it with his teeth to expose the smooth skin, pushing his nose against it to take in Gregor's musk from their exertions before he sunk his teeth into it and licked away the blood that beaded onto his skin.
"Fuck, Antonius," Gregor whined through his fingers. He couldn't see it, but he chose to imagine how it looked, how he was going to hide it from the circators, how Antonius would see what he did to him while his mind was hazy and at the same time racing with thoughts of fucking and filling Gregor.
When Gregor vividly imagined Antonius brushing his shoulder with his fingertips, smiling gently at how much of a mark he'd left behind, Gregor found himself coming hard all over the bottom of the shelf of the lectern, breathing heavily into his palm with high-pitched moans slipping past his lips.
Antonius wasn't far behind, but he had quickly pulled away from between Gregor's thighs. Gregor objected at first until he heard the slick sound of Antonius stroking himself, fucking into his hand instead of using Gregor. He felt Antonius' come splatter on his ass and the back of his thighs which made his softened cock throb painfully, for once feeling like he didn't have any more in him to keep going.
Silently, Antonius reached down to pull up his own braies and tucked himself back into them, then pulled his habit down before he slowly walked out the door of the scriptorium. Gregor was left behind, still very much undressed, his upper body leaning against the lectern, and his legs lacked any sort of strength like Antonius had fucked it all out of him.
At this rate, there was absolutely no way Gregor was going to get a good grip on transcribing Latin.