Chapter Text
'Walk with me,' I tell Humphrey as he approaches my chair. 'I require some air.'
I've been stuck in a small council meeting all morning and if Humphrey corners me now, I'm going to be stuck in this room all afternoon as well.
'Must we?' he asks, as my fellow members of the council shuffle out of the room.
'We must,' I say, making for the door.
He has no further protestations. Honestly, I'm shocked he dared to question me at all. Most people daren't question the royal family. If I were the king and not merely the prince, it would be treasonous.
I internally debate reminding him of this but think better of it. If I'm lucky, after this conversation, he won't wish to speak with me in private ever again.
Instead of taking the stairs down to the inner courtyard, I head up to the ramparts as Humphrey puffs behind me.
'I wished to speak with you about your upcoming marriage,' he wheezes as we reach the battlements. Two guards are standing sentry along the wall; I dismiss them with a wave. They hesitate a moment before retreating.
I stand tall and tilt my head back, taking in a long deep breath of cool fresh air.
'Prince Basilton,' Humphrey says.
'Yes?' I reply, my eyes closed against the wide bright sky.
'Your marriage,' he repeats.
'What about it?' I ask.
'You've yet to inform us on which of the potential brides you are interested in pursuing,' he says.
'I didn't realise I get a say in that matter,' I say, as I turn, running my hand against the rough stone.
'Your opinion is highly valued,' he says, sounding nervous. As well he might.
I don't reply, opting to take a step up onto a discarded seat so I can peer over the wall.
A lush forest blankets the ground far beneath me. I watch the branches of the trees swaying lightly in the breeze, birds taking flight. And there—
'Prince Basilton,' Humphrey says, his voice trembling with worry.
'Yes,' I say, flatly, turning and lifting myself so I'm sat on the top of the thick wall.
Humphrey looks like he wants to tell me to 'Get down immediately,' but that would absolutely be treason. Sometimes I don't mind the oppressive stricture surrounding my station.
'Continue,' I say, my arms loose at my sides. 'I'm ready,' I think. A banner flaps loudly nearby.
'Right,' Humphrey says, raising his voice to be heard over the rising wind. 'There are—' but he's unceremoniously cut off as I shriek.
I have a split-second to see Humphrey go white as milk before I'm ripped away from the wall, thick talons wrapping around my arms and lifting me into the air.
I hear his strangled cry of, 'Dragon!' before we're off like a cannon, barrelling through the sky.
The breath has been torn from my lungs, the ribbon pulled from my hair. My legs are kicking the air uselessly. My heartbeat pounds in my throat as enormous leathery red wings flap in and out of view on either side of me.
I look up to see the underside of a great long neck stretched out above me before we break through a low hanging cloud and I'm soaked in a chilling mist.
'Do not let today be my last,' I think.
Then, I'm hurtled upwards, into the open sky.
The first time we did this, I was certain I would die, that this was my final moment.
But, by God, what a moment it was.
I am now, like I was then, entirely weightless for a singular, impossible second. Suspended in sunlight, with nothing but the firmament to hold me up. But more than anything, I am entirely, and frighteningly, alive.
He swoops beneath me and I land, hard, on his scaled back. I pull myself forward, fingers numb, until I can wrap my arms around the base of his neck. I tuck my head, closing my eyes and feeling the warmth of his body through my now damp clothing.
'All right?' His voice resonates through my mind as if my skull is hollow.
'Better now,' I think. 'And you?'
'Better too.'
The rest of the flight is familiar. Cold, and mildly terrifying. Thankfully, it's not long before we descend. He slows, gliding towards a thickly flowered meadow in the middle distance. We pass over a small lake and he dips further, until his talons drag along the water. I sit up then, clutching onto him with my thighs. We're still travelling faster than any human has any right to, but there's an undeniable thrill to the speed.
My hair whips behind me as I lift my arms, tilting my head back and letting the wind rush past me.
He practically slides across the grass on his stomach before he finally stops. I swing my leg over his back and lower myself down, hitting the grass harder than expected.
I stumble forward and Simon's freckled arm catches me around the middle.
'I missed you,' he says into my ear, and I can hear his words echoing in my mind as well. We usually have a minute or so after he shifts form where we can still hear each other's thoughts.
I turn in his arms until I can hold his face in my hands. His bronze hair is wild, his blue eyes bright. I'm certain there's not a man in this world as beautiful as he is.
'I was having the same thought,' he says, smiling.
'I missed you,' I think, putting my mouth to better use and kissing him.
'I missed you,' he replies.
'You already said that.' I let my hands roam across his bare skin. The first time he changed form in front of me, I was struck dumb. There he was, a giant beast crouched in front of me, his enormous wings folded back. His red horned head was low to the ground, his tail swishing to and fro as he fixed his great golden eyes on me.
'Thrice now you've kidnapped me,' I said to him, trying to be brave but feeling as steadfast as a rabbit. 'Is this some sort of game to you? What do you want, beast?' I spat the last word at him.
'My name,' came a voice through the ether, 'is Simon.'
My breath stilled. What? I thought. It's all I could think.
'Not Beast,' he said.
What?
'Simon,' he said once more.
'Simon,' I repeated aloud, blinking stupidly at the dragon in front of me until he wasn't a dragon anymore. Or mostly not a dragon. He still had the wings, the tail, and his fingernails were nearly black. But more notable than the wings, or the tail, was his complete and utter lack of a single stitch of clothing.
I stared at him, frozen in place. I think it's possible my heart stopped entirely.
I've never seen so much glorious skin in my entire life, I thought. I want to put my tongue on every single part of him. Simon had flushed and scrubbed a hand through the back of his honeyed curls. I want to put my tongue inside of him. I want him to ruin me.
'I can still hear you,' he said, ducking his head.
I couldn't process what he was saying. His chest rose and fell with each breath and I watched the way his sparse golden chest hair caught the light. I thought about taking one of his dusty pink nipples between my teeth.
My eyes travelled lower and I swallowed thickly. He made a strangled sound at the back of his throat as I thought about taking him in my mouth.
Finally, he spluttered and choked out, 'Bas—' as I imagined him taking me against a tree. He wrapped a wing around himself, blocking my view and my eyes snapped up to his.
'I can hear you,' Simon's voice was clear though his mouth didn't move.
He could…oh. Oh. Oh, no.
Lust was quickly replaced with embarrassment as he looked at me with a fierce blush slapped across his cheeks.
'Oh,' was all I could manage to say. 'So you…' I thought.
He nodded sheepishly, biting his lip.
'Right,' I thought. And I was truly, deeply, and overwhelmingly embarrassed as I thought again of what he must have overheard.
'It's fine,' he said aloud, though I heard his voice echoed in my mind. 'It's more than fine,' he added, fiddling with the spike at the bottom of his wing.
We stood, the silence thick between us.
'That's not my name,' I said, barely louder than a whisper.
'What?' he replied. It was disconcerting, hearing his voice aloud and hearing it in my head.
'You called me Baz before,' I said. 'My name is Basilton.'
'That's what I was trying to say,' he said, quickly, looking away once more. 'Sorry.' His voice faded from my mind, leaving only his spoken words.
'I don't mind it,' I added.
He looked at me then and his mouth curved into a smile.
'Baz?' he said. And I liked the way it sounded in his mouth. It made me want to taste the sound on his tongue.
'And you're Simon,' I replied.
'Yes,' he said.
'Well, Simon,' I cleared my throat before continuing. 'It's a pleasure to officially meet you.'
'That's how you know I mean it,' Simon says to me now, his hands working at the fastenings of my damp clothing. 'I missed you so much, Baz.'
'Show me.'
Simon makes quick work of relieving me of my clothing. He's gotten much better at it since we started this, which I am grateful for. I had to endure a discomfiting amount of scrutiny after the time I came home from a "kidnapping" with half of my clothing missing and the other half looking as though it had been attacked by a dragon—because it had—and yet without a single injury except for nearly a dozen coin sized bruises scattered across my neck, chest, and stomach. Luckily, I was able to hide the ones on my inner thighs and no one seemed to question my reddened knees.
When I've finally been freed of my clothing, Simon beams at me and we tumble to the grass, rutting against one another gracelessly until the friction slips past pleasure. Simon stills, pausing a moment to catch his breath before he pushes me onto my back and moves down my body, pausing briefly to leave marks in his wake.
I moan when he puts his mouth on me, his tongue circling the head of my cock. How is this so good? How is this always so good? I'd thought it was the rush of danger; the first time he touched me like this felt like playing with fire. Exhilaration edged in fear. But by the first time I’d spent—with Simon’s hand wrapped around my length and his lips on mine—all I could feel was joy. And by the fourth time, all I could feel was bone deep satisfaction.
He kisses and licks and sucks me until there are tears gathering at the corners of my eyes and all I can think is please, please, please.
'You don't have to beg,' he says. I hadn't thought I had spoken that aloud. However, when I open my mouth, all that comes out is 'Please,' like it's the only word that exists anymore.
My eyes are squeezed shut, my muscles tensed and trembling. Simon's mouth is so hot, he's working the base of my stand with a hand as his other grips my thigh.
It's been too long since we've had this, weeks spent in miserable solitude. And I know I won't last long.
As soon as I feel the pad of his thumb rub against my hole, I cry out in pleasure and relief, and he sucks me as I spend.
My body is still twitching as Simon places wet kisses on my thighs.
'A moment,' I promise, breathless.
Simon sits back, still on his heels, and strokes himself. 'You're beautiful,' he says. Sentiments like that usually make me blush but I'm already flushed from head to toe.
'Come here,' I breathe.
He crawls over me on hands and knees until he's on all fours above me. Thankfully, he leans down to kiss me, instead of forcing me to lift myself up to kiss him.
I reach down and tap the back of his knee, coaxing him forward. He sits, straddling my waist, his wings slowly opening as I work his cock with my hand.
He tips his head back, his curls catching the sunlight. Gilded, I think. Perfect.
I sit up just enough to swipe my tongue across the tip of his cock.
Simon groans, the sound rumbling through his body. His tail possessively curls around my ankle.
I lie back, one arm stretched over my head as I stroke him languidly.
Smoke begins to curl from Simon's mouth as he pants and he moves further up my chest until I can rub my lips against the tip of his cock.
'Baz,' he rumbles.
I flick my tongue against his crown and I feel his legs tighten around me.
He runs his hands through my hair, gently cupping the back of my skull. We've done this enough that I know what he wants; and I'm more than happy to provide. I take in a great lungful of air, then take him down until he's up against the back of my throat.
He moans beautifully, shallowly thrusting his hips and using his hold on my head to fuck himself.
It's not long before he grips my hair sharply in warning of his oncoming release. I hold his hips with both hands and swallow.
He finishes down my throat with a cry, his wings snapping wide and his tail trashing.
The first time we did this, I didn't enjoy the taste. But now I lie awake at night, desperate for it.
I lick him clean, making sure I didn't miss any, suckling the head of his cock until he whimpers and collapses onto the grass next to me.
I smile up at the sky, listening to Simon's heavy breathing. The afternoon sun warms my skin, the air heavy with the scent of crushed grass and nearby wildflowers.
Simon's still sluggish, but he manages to inch closer to me, kissing my shoulder.
I turn towards him, lying on my side to mirror him. I draw lines between the moles on his chest as he strokes my cheek.
We stay like that for a while. Kissing one another. Touching just to feel the other person there.
I don't think I've ever been happier.
Eventually, he nudges me. 'Let's get cleaned up.'
I roll onto my back with a sigh. The grass prickles my skin and I arch my back, my arms stretched over my head.
'Come on,' Simon says, leaning over me. His wings spread above him. He places a gentle hand on my waist.
There's a freckle on his bottom lip that I must have kissed a hundred times by now. I place the pad of my thumb against it as I cup his face with an outstretched hand. 'You're so lovely,' I think. I could look at him for a lifetime and never get my fill.
He leans down to kiss me, slow and sweet as honey. I wrap my arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer. I can feel his mouth start to pull into a wide smile. His hands tighten on my waist; I break the kiss to say, 'No—' just before he lifts us both into the air with a hard flap of his wings.
'Simon!' I gasp as he laughs. We're only a few feet off the ground. I wrap my legs around him as we sweep towards the lake's edge.
'Oh, don't you dare,' I say, trying to sound as menacing as I can manage, lovesick, stark naked, and clutching onto Simon for dear life.
He's still laughing as we go plunging into the water.