Heart of Gold and Fists of Steel (dragovianknight) wrote in kinkfest, @ 2008-03-04 19:22:00 |
|
|||
"Wot's so special 'bout him?"
Eight's fingers tightened around his mug and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Red's voice carried clearly from her bedroom, where she and Yangus were, at Yangus's insistence, having their argument about his request for Yangus's help in private.
Private seemed to include Red doing her best to make sure he heard every word. He took an incautious gulp of "Pickham's Finest" - finest what, he wasn't sure - and the resultant coughing fit nearly covered up Yangus's lower-voiced answer.
"I told ya, Red, the Guv saved me life."
"An' you turned around an' risked it for him more times than you can count! That debt's more than repaid. Wot kind of bandit..."
"We ain't bandits no more."
"Fine, then what kind of merchant keeps doin' things with no profit in it?"
" 'E's my friend, an' I..." Yangus's voice suddenly dropped low enough that Eight couldn't make out the words.
"Wot?"
After the sharp exclamation, Red's voice dropped, too, though there was still a low, urgent buzz of conversation coming through the wall. Eight fidgeted and braved his drink again, wishing he'd thought to ask for Jessica's help instead. The Albert fortune had been built on trade, after all; Jessica probably knew someone who could put him in contact with a treasure hunter willing to go after the artifact he'd heard of. Or he could have asked Angelo; anyone who spent as much time in the pub as he did had to know all sorts of people.
The problem, of course, had been that either of them would have told him not to be a fool, though for different reasons. Yangus, he had been fairly sure, wouldn't judge him. He just hadn't known Red would be involved, as well.
He frowned at the floor and took another drink.
"All right, let's have a look at you."
Eight jumped - luckily, his mug was mostly empty - and looked up to find Red towering over him, arms crossed and a scowl on her face. He looked past her at Yangus, red-faced and apologetic.
Propriety be damned; he should have gone after Medea's wedding present himself. King Trode would have understood. Probably.
He really didn't like the way Red was looking at him.
"Come on, up with you." Red tugged him to his feet, her hand lingering warmly on his arm, and looked him up and down. "I really don't understand it. Guess I'll just have to see wot he looks like without his clothes."
"Wot?" Yangus demanded, which fortunately drowned out Eight asking the same question in an undignified squeak.
"You heard me. If he's going to be takin' you off to do Goddess knows wot, he owes me somethin'. And since you think he's so damn special, I'd say the very least I deserve is a chance at him me own self."
"You can't...I mean, I never..."
"Oh, hush Yangus; you'll get your chance."
She was already unfastening his sword harness; Eight thought he probably ought to do something about that, and pushed her hands clumsily away. "I never agreed to...whatever it is you want," he said, and really, after facing the Lord of Darkness it shouldn't be so hard to keep his voice from shaking.
Red crossed her arms again, annoyed scowl back in place. "Do you want Yangus to get that pretty rock for your bird, or not?"
"I think that should be his decision."
"Oy, Guv, you know I'd do anythin' for you, but...I gotta live with Red an' all."
"'E ain't gonna do it less I agree, and I ain't agreein' without good reason." She cocked her head, eyes narrowed. "Course, you can always try to find someone else to do the job, but you're runnin' out of time, what with the weddin' being in a couple of weeks."
"Three weeks." Three weeks until his Medea was gone forever, married to that piglet, Prince Charmles. Three weeks to find a gift that would help her remember him, and perhaps cheer her once she reached Argonia. And from everything he'd read, the Pendant of Reminisce would be perfect for that.
He swallowed hard, more morose, now, than nervous. "What do you want?"
"You, o' course. Didn't I just say that?" Red went back to unfastening the buckle of his sword harness, and this time he let her, staggering a little when the weight slid from his back. "To the bedroom with you."
Eight caught her wrist. "Whatever you have planned, I want Yangus nearby." True, he hadn't been much help so far, but Eight was at least fairly sure Yangus wouldn't let her do anything too serious, like tying him up and selling him, for example.
Red smirked. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
She led him to her bedroom, Yangus trailing along behind. "I'm sorry, Guv. Red...well, I 'ave to be a bit careful with 'er, like. Some things she just won't be argued out of. An' well, it ain't like I never...I mean, I..."
"Yangus, quit yer blabbin'," Red snapped. "He already made his agreement, an' now he just has to live up to it, don't he?" A final tug, and Eight found himself standing beside her bed. "Now, can you undress yerself, or should I do it?"
Eight set his jaw and began to undress. He'd traveled the world and faced uncounted evils for Medea - at the end, when everyone's fate had hung in the balance, it had still been for Medea - he could do this for her.
Even so, as he stripped his tunic off and began unfastening his trousers, he found his hands slowing and fumbling. Particularly after Red said, "Well, Yangus, I suppose I do see a bit of what you're talking about."
Her hands settled on his bare back, stroking downward, tracing the muscles, leaving him lightheaded. Her arms went around him, full breasts pressing into his back, and his hands forgot what they were doing entirely, while a flush suffused his whole body.
Red's hands moved down, stroked him through heavy fabric, then drew his motionless hands aside. "Yangus, help the boy, would you?"
Yangus hurried over; Eight made a token protest - this wasn't at all what he'd meant when he said he wanted Yangus nearby - as the huge, warm hands went to work, embarrassed to realize he was hard. It was an effort not to push his hips forward into those hands, not to run his own fingers through Yangus's short-cropped hair and push him down...his face burned as he realized what he wanted was for Yangus to be on his knees, doing one of the things Angelo had spoken of with such fondness.
Angelo would be having the time of his life.
Red snuggled a bit closer, her pelvis nudging his backside, pressing him into Yangus's touch, and Eight decided Angelo was far wiser than anyone gave him credit for and he ought to follow the Templar's lead in such matters. He relaxed, tipping his head back, letting Red mouth the side of his neck.
"Not bad," she murmured when his trousers slid down his hips. Her fingers curled around his erection, too light to do more than tease with each stroke. "Help him to the bed so we can finish his part of the bargain."
Eight considered protesting that his trousers handn't slipped so far down he couldn't walk, but he didn't have any objections to the broad hand that splayed across his back, or Yangus's proximity at his side. And he really couldn't imagine a reason to object when Yangus seated him on the edge of the bed and knelt to remove his boots, then tugged his trousers the rest of the way off.
"You all right, Guv?" Yangus had his hands braced on Eight's knees, seemingly oblivious to his position and the thoughts it sent racing through Eight's mind. Eight felt guilty, like he was the one taking advantage, instead of the one being taken advantage of.
"I have to admit, you two make a pretty picture." Red's voice drew his attention. She was completely naked, standing with her legs braced apart and her hands on her hips, and the sight distracted him from the apology he was about to make. Eight stared at her, mouth open, trying to think of something to say and deciding it was probably safer to just avert his gaze.
"Shy, are you?" Red climbed onto the bed, tangled a hand in his hair, and tipped his head back to kiss him. "Still, bein' a better sport about it than I expected." She pulled him around by the grip on his hair, then released him and planted her other hand in the middle of his chest, pushing him onto his back. "Now we just have to see if this bargain's worth our time."
Eight reached for her. "Let's finish it, then," he said, and tried to tell himself he didn't sound desperate.
"Oh, not so shy after all." Red smirked. "But who said you were goin' to get to fuck me? Maybe I just want to watch the show."
"Oy, Red..."
"Wot? You're the one who fancies him; it might be fun, watchin' you get wot you want." Her fingers ran along the underside of Eight's cock, tip to base, no longer teasing; she cupped his balls, and the conversation got much harder to follow. "'Sides, he's young and strong; no reason we can't both have a bit of fun, is there?"
"That weren't wot 'e agreed to."
"But I bet he'd agree to it now." Red leaned over him, her hand still working between his legs, so that his hips moved of their own accord. "Wot do you say, Guv? You don't want Yangus to be left out of the fun, do you?"
"No," Eight gasped, and he wasn't sure if he was answering the question or protesting the idea.
"There, you see?" Eight heard Red clap Yangus on the shoulder. "You have to learn to take advantage of opportunity, Yangus. It'll make you a proper businessman."
"You sure, Guv?" Yangus asked.
He was leaning closer, the heat of his body replacing Red's touch, and Eight nodded. Not that he would have agreed to almost anything to get someone to touch him, it was just...fair.
The shock of cold when Yangus pressed slick fingers against him brought some of his senses back. It wasn't bad - Yangus rubbed easy, soothing circles around his asshole with one hand, while the other was warm on the back of his thigh, holding his leg out of the way - but it was strange enough to penetrate the haze of alcohol and need. Eight's cock softened, and he considered calling it off. Then Yangus pressed one thick finger up inside him, and he tried to squirm away in surprised pain even as his cock swelled fiercely erect again.
"Oy, Yangus, don't finish him off before we've properly started," Red said; Eight could barely hear her above the pounding in his ears.
By the time Yangus's fingers vanished and were replaced by the slow, pleasure/pain burn of Yangus's cock pressing into him, Eight was beyond hearing anything, though he was vaguely aware he was making sounds. The world had narrowed to sensation, the fullness in his ass and the scrape of coarse body hair against his cock, hands on his hips and a sweaty, solid body between his thighs, the friction of the blanket against his back as he slid with each thrust. It was almost, almost enough, and he twisted in Yangus's grip in a vain effort to get that little more he needed.
The hands on his hips tightened painfully enough to leave bruises; he felt Yangus shudder and pulse inside him, moving him closer, but still not there. He suspected the words spilling from his throat when Yangus pulled out were curses.
"There, there." Red's voice in his ear, over the buzz of his other senses, and he instinctively rolled toward her, one hand tangling in her hair and the other bracing him half upright as he kissed her.
She pulled him the rest of the way on top of her, guided him into her wet, slick heat, legs tight around him, pulling him deep. Her nails scraped across his back, sensitive from the blanket and the blood racing beneath the skin; her left hand dug into his shoulder, and he felt her right slide between them, stroking herself.
He had a sudden, vivid image of her watching him with Yangus, fingers moving in and out, and moaned, thrusting harder. Without warning, it was all suddenly enough; he shuddered, the world fading before something too intense to just be pleasure, Red clenching around him as if reluctant to let him go.
She swore at him when he pulled free and rolled off her, and Yangus settled on her other side, big fingers covering hers, replacing them. It was too intimate for Eight to watch, even though he'd just had - or been had by - them both; he rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed, wincing a little at the soreness in his backside and the ache in his thighs.
He didn't turn around even when Red's enthusiastic cries told him it was safe. Relatively.
"That was a damn sight better than I expected." Somehow, Red managed to sound sated and sleepy and still grudging. "I suppose you can go, Yangus. But you'll come back to me in once piece, yeah?"
"You know I will." Yangus sounded gruffly embarrassed, and Eight couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Red."
"I expect you to deliver that rock an' come home. None of this unless I'm with you, right?"
"'Course not," Yangus mumbled, and Eight wondered if Yangus was blushing as much as he was.
"Right then." Eight both heard and felt Red settling herself more comfortably on the bed. "If you two are stayin', don't bother me until I'm ready for you."
Yangus muttered an affirmative, and a moment later he had circled around the bed to stand in front of Eight. He'd put his trousers back on; Eight honestly wasn't sure if he was grateful or disappointed, but it did make him wonder where his clothes had gotten to.
"You all right, Guv?"
Eight rubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah."
"You probably ought to head back to Pickham. Safer during the day, an' all."
"And I wouldn't want Red to decide I'm worthy of collecting," Eight agreed.
"Yeah, an' that." Yangus scratched the back of his head. "When her an' I was talkin'...listen, Guv, I didn't think this was wot she'd get in mind. Not that I'm complaining, or nothing, but...oy, sorry Guv."
Eight nodded absently. He finally spotted his trousers and went after them, deciding as he put them on that the lingering soreness was not entirely unpleasant. "It's okay, Yangus," he said when he could trust himself to speak without his voice breaking. He accepted his tunic and put it on, then carried his boots out to the main room to finish dressing.
"I'll get that pendant you want an' deliver it before the 'orse-princess's weddin', I promise."
"I know you will." Eight shrugged into his sword harness and paused halfway to the door. Yangus seemed genuinely worried that he was angry, and while he was - a lot of things - at the moment, angry wasn't one of them.
To his surprise as much as Yangus's, he put his hand on one stubbled cheek and kissed the former bandit on the mouth.
"Bring Red with you, if you like," he said, mindful of Red's instructions before she'd fallen asleep. "I think I'd like to see her again."