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Lucien knows that the stewing isn't good for him. He knows. But Perinor had left for a contract that should've taken him a couple of days at the maximum, especially since Perinor had Shadowmere. But it had been a week, and still he hasn't heard from the boy. He knows that sitting alone in the dark fort, letting his anger fester won't help anyone, but he can't help it. Because as angry as he is, he's also terrified that the worst has come to pass, that Perinor has been-
Well it doesn't matter what he thinks because it's in that exact moment that Perinor swaggers in, as if he never left, as if nothing is wrong. Lucien tries to bite back the worst of his anger when he speaks.
"Where have you been?" He demands, words dripping with venom.
Perinor seems taken aback by such a hostile welcome. "I was out doing that contract," he says, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.
He sets down his pack, approaching Lucien cautiously, his hands at his side but slightly extended, palms subtly turned outward, as if to say 'I'm not going to hurt you,' but without the commitment.
"What's wrong? Did something happen while I was out?"
Lucien snaps. "It would've served you right if something had! I don't believe for a second that you just working the contract, not for a whole week, not unless you're a much worse assassin than I thought!"
Perinor doesn't flinch, but his eyes do widen marginally, shocked by Lucien's outburst. "I'm allowed to do other stuff. I did the contract first thing, I always do the contract first, and then I do my own thing for a bit. I don't understand what the big deal is."
His voice is so soft, so confused, like he truly doesn't understand the issue. Lucien scoffs. "Do you're own thing," he mocks. "You mean get your cunt stuffed by strangers?" His words carry a vicious bite.
Perinor's attitude finally changes. His hands clench into fists which he buries into the pockets of his dark pants. He frowns, and his eyebrows furrow angrily. "Yes, Lucien, getting my cunt stuffed. I didn't realize I needed your permissionbefore I have sex." He's angry, and annoyed. Good.
"You do if it's going to get in the way of your work!" Lucien exclaims.
"I just fucking told you, it doesn't! I do the contract first!"
"And in the time you wasted acting like a filthy whore you could have returned here and gotten your next contract!"
"I'm allowed to have time to my self! My whole world doesn't revolve around fucking contracts!"
"No, it just revolves around fucking. I said you were acting like a whore, but I take it back. There's no act with you, you just are a filthy, used up, no-good whore."
There's a pause, as Lucien takes in a deep breath and as Perinor processes what he just said. And then, in the blink of an eye, all the anger washes out of Perinor. It's such a shocking sight that it startles Lucien out of his own rage. Perinor turns on his heel, walks over to his pack, lifting it up and over his shoulder, and begins making his way to the door.
"Since I'm "no-good," I guess I'll just get out of your hair then. You can find someone else to be your Silencer, someone who better suits your expectations."
The rage flairs up again, but alongside it is… panic. He doesn't want Perinor to leave, Perinor can't leave. His across the room in a second, grabbing Perinor by the shoulder and spinning him around, shoving him into the stone wall of the fort, holding him in place.
"You aren't going anywhere," he growls, unable to help how possessive it sounds.
Something fiery flashes in Perinor's eyes, and he half expects the boy to struggle. "And why would I ever want to stay here?"
An idea pops into Lucien's head, and it's a twisted one.
"You want sex so damn bad, then get on your knees," he says, voice still carrying the venom from their argument.
Perinor's eyes widen again, his eyebrows shooting up, his mouth opening slightly. When he realized the face he's making, his mouth shuts with a clack and his eyes narrow. "You can't be seri-"
Before he can finish, Lucien smacks him across the face, not particularly hard, but enough to leave a red mark in the shape of his hand. His own fingers sting a bit, and Perinor's eyes water. He doesn't ask any more questions, and Lucien doesn't reiterate his demand. Perinor sinks to his knees, his pack sliding off his shoulder, down his arm, and to the floor. He doesn't do anything past that, though, simply looking up at Lucien with tearful eyes, as though awaiting a command.
"Don't look at me like that. You know what to do, so fucking do it," Lucien says.
Perinor nods minutely, his little fingers coming up to fiddle with the buttons of Lucien's britches, until finally they're unfastened. He pulls them and Lucien's underwear aboit halfway down Lucien's thighs, revealing Lucien's erect cock. Perinor glances up once, and something about Lucien's expression clearly tells him to get on with it, because he looks back down and sucks the tip of Lucien's cock into his mouth.
Lucien groans at the pleasant sensation, feeling the wet, hot, soft lips around him, Perinor's tongue teasing his slit, the gentle suction. Slowly but surely Perinor swallows more and more of Lucien's cock, until he finally manages to take it to the root, his nose buried in Lucien's pubic hair. It's then that Lucien's hands drop down and he grabs two fistful's of Perinor's hair, just behind his tiny horns. He uses them like handholds, first using his grip to slide Perinor off and back onto his cock, forcing the boy to bob his head up and down his length. Perinor doesn't seem to mind the rough treatment, moaning all the while. At one point, Perinor even reaches between his legs, trying to sooth the desperate ache there. Lucien kicks his hands away.
"I don't fucking think so. A nasty whore like you doesn't deserve to get off. You'll enjoy my cock down your throat and nothing else."
Perinor whimper's but doesn't fight back. So Lucien instead holds the boy's head steady, pistoning his hips in and out of his mouth, feeling the head of his cock breach the boy's throat with each thrust. Drool dips down Perinor's chin and neck, wetting the front of his shirt. Tears begin to stream down his red face. He looks an utter mess, and it's perfect. He still doesn't fight, not even when Lucien slams home, burying himself in Perinor's throat and holding him there, cutting off his air and forcing him to swallow around the cock lodged down his throat.
"You belong to me," Lucien states, voice rough with anger and pleasure. "Your mind belongs to me, your soul, your body. You're a tool for me to use however I see fit. You'd do well to remember that."
Perinor whimpers and whines, but he doesn't fight back, and finally, the constrictions of the boy's throats, the gentle suction of his cheeks, and the vibrations of his moans pushes Lucien over edge, spilling his hot seed down Perinor's throat.
"Better swallow it all, slut, don't waste it," he says meanly, but Perinor does as asked.
He stays hilted a moment longer, until Perinor begins looking faint before finally pulling out, releasing Perinor's hair. The boy takes several gasping, heaving breaths.
"Next time you think about going and fucking around with some stranger, what are you going to do?"
There's a pause, Perinor still trying to catch his breath. "Come to you, sir," Perinor finally gasps, looking up at Lucien with his wrecked face.
"That's right. Now clean up and lets go to bed. You've got another contract and you're behind schedule."