Chapter 8.

Deon cried until his lungs hurt and his eyes felt sore. Roi just held him in silence, fingertips drawing soft circles on his shoulder.

When Deon's tears dried out, and his body felt light and empty, he stared vacantly at the wall - watching bright specks of sunshine catch the sheen of gold swirls.

Roi's room was so tranquil, like one of those magical places Deon's mother had described to him in stories when he was little. A cushioned haven of luxury and light.

But the ache between Deon's thighs was a different story. The burn in his throat and the scabs on his spine didn't belong in any fairytale.

His cheek was pressed to Roi's curls, now damp from his tears, and he could smell the sweet oils on the boy's skin. Feel the warmth of his small body and the moist brush of lips on his jaw.

Back home he would never have imagined being with Roi like this. Being with anyone like this. He didn't even have those thoughts about Alen, not consciously anyway, until Gell had kissed him on the ship.

What he and Alen had was deeper than that. He thought about his brother when he woke up in the morning and before he slept at night. He wanted to be with him every moment of the day. They didn't even have to talk or do anything in particular. Just being in Alen's company was enough.

But when they had finally touched it was like two parts of a whole aligned. At least, it had felt that way to Deon.

He took a trembling breath against the ache in his chest and focused on the kisses moving to his ear, on the warm lick of a tongue, and then a gentle suckle on his earlobe. It felt nice.

Roi shifted and his palm smoothed up Deon's thigh and ran over his cock, fingertips stroking lightly, until it stirred and lifted.

"You're so beautiful." Roi breathed and Deon could feel the quick thump of the boy's heart against his chest.

This was the second time Deon had been called beautiful by another boy. But given the circumstances, he didn't mind as much as the first time.

But if Roi wanted him for his looks, then why not choose Alen? Alen loved people and he'd been the one to draw them in with a dazzling smile, when they'd sold their vegetables at the market. Even their father had grudgingly acknowledged Alen's value back then.

Deon, on the other hand, had been assigned to pack the goods and haul potatoes to the grocer, because he was more likely to scare customers away.

"You are." Roi insisted, mistaking Deon's frown and kissed him.

Roi's lips were buttery soft and his warm little tongue slid into Deon's mouth.

He remembered how skilled Roi's mouth was on other parts of him and he wanted to feel that again. He wanted to drown in pleasure and forget the pain.

He ran his hands over Roi's delicate shoulders and pushed lightly. He caught a quick flash of surprised blue eyes, before Roi's pink little mouth curved and he climbed down eagerly, taking Deon's cock confidently in his hand and putting his mouth on it.

Deon groaned and slid his fingers through Roi's soft curls. The boy's tongue was wet and skilled as it ran over his shaft, until Deon's stomach muscles contracted and his breaths quickened.

Roi took his time, suckling tenderly on the sensitive tip as his fingers tightened on the base of the shaft and pulled up slow.

Deon lifted his hands to grip the sheets and panted. It felt so good. So incredibly good.

Roi suddenly moved all the way down, enclosing Deon in the tight heat of his throat, until his cock throbbed and his toes curled.

Roi lifted, sucking hard, and dived back down. Over and over until Deon thought he might pass out from the pleasure of it.

"Hng!" He came hard, muscles trembling and sweat running down his chest.

He felt the cool touch of air on his shaft as Roi lifted, heard the boy cough, and then Roi was pressing back against him and kissing him. Mouth tasting of fresh cum and spit.

Deon welcomed it all, clutching Roi's silky skin and allowing the boy to hump against him.

"Oh please. Please." Roi whispered, hot little prick sliding against Deon's belly. It was only fair that Deon gave him a hand and he reached down to grip the boy's twitching shaft. Four firm tugs was all it took and then a sticky stream flowed over his fingers.

Roi moaned and suckled on Deon's tongue in his mouth. The boy didn't demand anything; only offered or asked. It was reassuring, as if Deon still had an ounce of power left.

The boys spent the rest of the day, and the night, together and when Deon woke trembling from nightmares, he was grateful for the unthreatening arms around him.

.....

The next morning the servants woke them without breakfast and led them to the pools. Deon's injuries felt worse than the previous day and a guard had to carry him down the stairs.

He slapped the man's arm, but it was like pushing stone. He hated the stares he felt on him; witnessing his weakness and emasculation.

The guard lowered him into warm water and the pain between his legs flared hot. He gripped the edge of the pool and grit his teeth.

A pair of slender feet stopped in front of him and drops of water dripped onto his head.

"Still sore?" A voice said loudly and Deon looked up.

The amber haired boy smirked down at him. His golden skin was perfectly clear, without the freckles Deon was accustomed to seeing on redhead's back home.

His body was lean and willowy, with the long lines of someone who was probably fast on their feet. Emeralds, as bright as his eyes, shone on either side of his small nipples and a gem embellished ring encircled his cock. He looked ridiculous.

Deon narrowed his eyes and breathed hard through his nose. He wasn't in any state to fight, but he sure wanted to. He wanted to punch the arrogance right off the boy's face.

The boy cocked a bronze brow and his smirk deepened.

"Don't tease him, Jessa." Roi splashed into the water beside Deon and put a protective hand on his shoulder.

Deon flushed and jerked away. Pain flared in his back and forced a grunt from his mouth, but he didn't need a rescuer. He could defend himself. Roi hastily backed away.

Jessa snorted and sank into a crouch. Servants dropped their skirts and stepped into the water to remove the soaked bandages on Deon's spine.

The water allowed the cloth to pull easier from his skin, but the tug on old scabs still made him swallow tightly.

"Four weeks until it stops." Jessa drawled and Deon looked up in surprise. The boy had a strange accent that wasn't Peraan, but Deon wasn't educated enough to guess where it was from.

Jessa was watching the women lazily through his lashes, one hand resting between his knees and the other splayed on the marble stone. "I would know."

"What stops?" Deon said and he resented how choked his sounded.

"The pain. You should do what he says." Jessa's eyes returned to him and he reached out casually to run his knuckles over Deon's cheek. "Like a good boy."

The gesture and the tone was so eerily reminiscent of the prince, that Deon felt a cold rush of fear and he lurched back.

A servant exclaimed angrily and whacked his arm to keep him still. Jessa's laugh was harsh and mocking as the boy stood and sauntered away.

When Deon's body was clean and oiled he was led down a hall beside Roi. The smaller boy kept his eyes on the floor, lips pressed tight, and Deon felt a sting of guilt.

Roi had comforted him all night and Alen had once told him that sometimes he came off mean, even when he didn't intend to be.

"I'm sorry." He murmured.

Roi's blue eyes flashed towards him for an instant, before settling back on the floor. Deon was at a loss. He hadn't had any friends, or lovers, aside from his brother. What was he supposed to do?

He was distracted by the sounds of voices and light music. They stepped into a hall that was open to a sparkling pond outside and the air was thick with the scent of flowers. The floors were covered in soft blue tiles and iridescent curtains rippled in a light breeze.

There were five men and six women seated by a white stone table decked with a feast. Their clothes and jewels marked them as royalty and pretty boys and girls sat at their feet.

Guards stood by the walls, swords gleaming at their hips, and four servants entertained a group of children playing on woven blankets.

One of the women turned in her chair and presented a sweetmeat to a boy on the floor. He bit into it delicately and kissed her jeweled hand.

The prince sat beside a young woman with waist length hair and Deon's blood ran cold when their eyes met. The man's black waves were pulled back by a gold clip and it made his features appear sharper. Almost predatory.

But a small part of Deon felt a pull. It wasn't anything like love or affection. It was something else. Something dark and dangerous and it frightened him.

Roi straightened beside him like an eager puppy and it only took the barest gesture from the prince to send him running. Roi stopped a foot away from the man's chair and sat on the floor, bright head eclipsed by the stone table.

Deon was being observed by the other royals now. The young woman spoke and her tone was amused. The prince laughed and answered, gesturing to Deon.

He wasn't stupid enough to defy this room and he moved stiffly to the prince's side. But if the man wanted Deon to move faster, he shouldn't have made it so difficult for him to walk.

He was surprised to see Jessa sitting beside Roi, along with the dark haired boy the prince also seemed to favor. But Alen was nowhere to be seen.

Deon waited for a signal, but the prince never looked at him, instead he conversed with the woman and drank from his cup.

A harsh tug on his arm had Deon stumbling to the floor.

"Fool." Jessa hissed in his ear and pinched his bruised thigh viciously. Deon bit back a yelp of pain and shoved the boy as hard as he could.

If Deon had been as fit as he normally was, Jessa would probably have fallen. But he wasn't and Deon ended up flat on his back, head slamming into the tiles, with Jessa on top of him.

"Ravat!" The prince bellowed and snapped his fingers.

Jessa froze and this close Deon could see the raw fear in the boy's bright green eyes. In the next instant Jessa's mouth crushed down on his in a violent kiss. Their teeth clacked and Deon tasted blood.

Laughter erupted as they tousled and a brutal grip on Deon's prick had him wailing into Jessa's mouth. There was no pleasure, only pain, but it might not appear that way to an audience.

The prince spoke again and Jessa lifted his head quickly. His sharp cheekbones were flushed and his dark pink mouth was stained with blood. He licked his lips and peaked up at the prince coyly through amber lashes.

"Not willing to wait, my fox?" The prince smiled and extended his hand. Jessa lifted smoothly off Deon to nuzzle it and sucked a finger into his mouth.

The prince spoke softly in a language that was neither Telenien nor Peraan. It was something rapid and melodic and Jessa murmured a reply in the same tongue.

Deon sat up slowly and painfully. He kept his eyes downcast and focused on his breathing. In through his nose and out through his mouth. His skull pounded and his brow felt damp.

"Seyin." The prince spoke and Deon exhaled shakily. He wouldn't be steady on his feet now and he crawled to the prince's chair. If his mind had been clearer, he would have felt ashamed.

A light touch on his hair guided his head to rest against the prince's thigh. He was uncomfortably close to the man's groin, but it was thankfully covered by the kilt.

A cup pressed gently against his mouth and he drank deeply of a cool minty water. Strips of spicy meat came next and a slice of fruit.

"Do you like it?" The prince asked softly and Deon forced himself to nod, eyes still blissfully closed against the pain.

"Impertinent." A woman remarked tartly in Telenien and Deon's heart lurched. He looked up warily and the prince smiled down at him.

"A little, but he's learning." The man said and stroked Deon's cheek. Deon shivered and kept his eyes on those ice grey irises.

"Aren't you, Seyin? You want to be good don't you?" The prince's large hand drifted down to touch Deon's throat, resting warm and heavy on his bruises. Not squeezing. Yet.

"Yes." Deon breathed, pulse pounding rapidly now. He didn't want to be frightened and helpless and weak. But more than anything he wanted the pain to stop.

The prince's smile deepened and he lifted his kilt, pressing Deon's cheek against his half-hard cock.