A/N: Hello my loves! There's a thunderstorm outside (my favorite weather) and I'm tucked up in a blanket writing this. I hope you're all well! Wherever you are and whatever you're doing 🖤

This chapter is unedited.

I saw this quote the other day and it made me think of Deon and Alen:

"When I saw you,

I fell in love,

And you smiled

because

you

knew."

- William Shakespeare

Chapter 9.

Deon squeezed his eyes shut tightly and swallowed back bile when a spongy head ran over his lip.

"Open." The prince murmured, thumb pressing gently into the joint on Deon's jaw and coaxing his mouth open.

It was disgusting. The warm flesh sliding between his lips and the caresses on his hair. The corners of his mouth stretched wide and the cock tasted both sweet and salty.

The prince sighed in pleasure and murmured encouragement, as if they were lovers. As if Deon had a choice and wouldn't be whipped to within an inch of his life, if he refused.

"Suck hard." The prince breathed and pushed back Deon's long hair, revealing his face more clearly to their audience.

He didn't want to think about the eyes on him. The judgement or the memories that would haunt him later. This was still preferable to pain, he reminded himself. Anything was preferable to that god awful pain.

He suctioned his cheeks and mimicked Roi's actions earlier; trying to finish this as fast as he could.

He tasted the first drops of pre-cum and gagged. The prince pressed a hand to his brow shoved him away. Deon yelped and sprawled on the tiles.

"Lin." The prince gasped and then the blonde was there, taking Deon's place and finishing the job effortlessly.

The prince sighed out his release and Deon felt a pinch on his scalp. The woman with the waist length hair was staring down at him. Large gold earrings brushed the top of her shoulders and kohl lined her almond shaped eyes.

"You need to train." She said in a heavy Peraan accent and snapped her ringed fingers at a boy behind her.

He was a little older than Deon, taller too, with a toned body and black ringlets that glistened with oil. His dark blue eyes fixed on Deon with cold intensity. It reminded Deon of the way his father used to watch a pig, or a lamb, before he slit its throat.

Deon averted his eyes quickly and struggled to sit up. He wasn't a match for a boy like that. Not right now.

The prince wiped his cock with a cloth and covered it with his kilt.

"He does need training, but not by your stallions, sister." The prince drawled and the woman's dark brows slashed into a frown.

"My Leovan would have him obedient in a day." She protested.

"I don't doubt that." The prince's light eyes fell on Deon thoughtfully. "Should I let him have you?"

Deon could feel Leovan's gaze on him, along with every other pair of eyes in the room. He knew instinctively that boy would hurt him and he crawled to the prince's feet.

The heavy-lidded eyes staring down at him weren't much warmer than Leovan's, but Deon knew the prince had a different agenda. This was a test.

The prince had said he didn't enjoy pain and, strangely, Deon believed it. His punishments had little to do with lust; they were all about power and control. The prince wanted obedience, just like Alen had said.

Deon moved tentatively closer, even as his body began to shake. The pain in his head, and the ache between his legs, warned him that more pain would follow if he made one wrong move.

He took a trembling breath and slowly leaned in to kiss the prince's hand, nuzzling it like he'd seen Jessa do earlier.

The prince lifted his arm, and Deon flinched, but the man only cupped his cheek, thumb running over his lower lip. Deon briefly shut his eyes and breathed out in relief. He'd done the right thing.

"Jessa seemed to enjoy you." The prince laughed at Deon's wary expression and snapped his fingers. "Azel."

The dark haired boy stood. He was pretty, with the kind of slender build the prince seemed to prefer. His brown skin and light eyes marked him as Peraan and the smile he flashed towards Deon looked genuine.

"Do you understand now?" The prince tapped Deon's cheek to regain his attention. "If you are good, I reward you. But if you disobey," strong fingers crushed into Deon's jaw and made his breath hiss painfully through his teeth, "I will punish you."

....

The royals finished their meal and Deon was led to Azel's room. Dark purple stone gleamed on the walls and the marble floor was a pure blinding white. Silks, pillows and blankets were tossed haphazardly around the room, but the sheets on the bed looked untouched.

Food and drink decked a silver table and sunlight streamed in from large open windows.

Small glass pots of paint gleamed on a window-seat and a parchment beside them depicted a scene. Deon craned his neck curiously at the artwork, but Azel pulled him gently to a nest of blankets on the floor.

Five guards entered behind them and stood wooden by the wall, observing the boys in silence. Deon had never had so little privacy before, even back home, when he'd shared a room with Alen. Sharing a room with a sibling was nothing like being watched by armed men.

Deon wasn't sure if they were there to protect him or Azel, in case the boys attacked each other, or to ensure they followed the prince's orders. He didn't care either.

He just wanted to relax. To sleep. To rest his sore body and never wake up, because he was beginning to understand that him and his brother might never be able to leave. Even if Alen wanted to.

A caress on his arm had him look over his shoulder. Azel offered him a cup and a plate full of pastries that smelled wonderful.

Deon's stomach growled insistently. The tidbits the prince had offered hardly counted as breakfast and it had to be late afternoon by now.

He propped gingerly up on his elbows and accepted the plate. The pastries were warm and full of meat, vegetables and spices. The drink was hot too and citrusy.

Azel fetched a plate for himself and settled crosslegged opposite Deon. The boy's body was completely exposed and his jewelry only seemed to emphasize his nudity.

He had a heart shaped face, with long black hair braided to his hips, and gold earrings beaded with turquoise stones. Two delicate chains draped over his narrow hips, and connected with a jewel at his navel, and gold bracelets circled his thin ankles.

When they'd finished eating, Azel stood to rinse his hands in a pitcher of water and dipped in a cloth. He returned and sat beside Deon to run the cloth over his mouth.

The boy did it so casually, as if it was a perfectly normal thing to do, that Deon's protests died in his throat.

The cloth felt cool and damp on his lips and it smelled floral. Azel's movements were deft and precise, almost motherly, and Deon found his heart slowing. His shoulders softening. It felt good to be taken care of.

"You don't have to do that." He finally managed to say. Azel didn't react or respond. He probably didn't speak Telenien.

The boy took his time wiping the last flake of sticky pastry off Deon's thumb and dropped the cloth carelessly on the floor beside them.

Then he lifted Deon's hand and pressed a slow kiss to his palm. It tickled and Deon pulled his arm back carefully.

He didn't want to hurt Azel. There was something gentle about the boy. He had as little choice in this situation as Deon - he was only doing what he'd been told to do.

Azel let Deon's wrist slide easily from his fingers, but he didn't move away. Instead he looked up, pale grey eyes connecting with Deon's directly.

The boy had very long lashes. They reminded Deon of a deer he had snuck up on once. It had stared at him for an instant, before it darted across the field and disappeared into the forest.

"Neitan lefen." The boy said softly in Peraan and Deon just shook his head, wincing when it caused a stab of pain behind his right eye. "Ooh."

Azel cooed with sympathy and he touched Deon's face, cool fingers trailing over his cheeks and pressing firmly beneath his brows. The pain in his head eased a bit and Deon couldn't bring himself to pull away.

He felt Azel lean closer, fingers skimming up toward Deon's hairline and finding another tender spot. The pain retreated further and Deon sighed.

The boy's clever fingers ran over Deon's head, the sides of his neck, and even found a pressure point behind his ears.

It was as if all the pain drained away with those touches. They returned the instant Azel moved his hands, but the boy quickly found other sore spots and massaged gently.

Deon groaned and Azel's mouth touched his in a soft kiss. It was so light, it was barely a kiss at all. Just a whisper of warmth.

"Letka men." Azel pushed lightly against Deon's shoulders and he lay back against a red blanket. The boy's feathery lips moved over his bruised throat, his chest and a tongue laved over his nipple.

Deon frowned. He wasn't sure he liked that. Azel moved to his other nipple and suckled that one too, hands running down Deon's arms and pressing the joints firmly.

"Yeref'a?" Azel murmured and moved lower to tongue Deon's navel.

That felt strange, but the soft kisses on his pelvis felt good. "...I don't know what you're saying, Azel." He exhaled as his cock hardened.

"Hmm." The boy trailed a single fingertip up Deon's shaft.

After several minutes of torturously soft caresses, kisses and licks, Deon was ready to burst.

"Stop teasing! Please." He reached for Azel feverishly and the boy moved into his arms, slender body pressing wonderfully firm against him, as their mouths touched. Open and wet.

Azel finally gripped Deon's pulsing cock and he came so hard he saw stars. Liquid warmth flooded his body until it blazed and his spine arched. The tension unwound and he slumped against the blanket, breaths slowing.

"Hm." Azel smiled at him softly, and allowed him a few minutes to come down, before the boy guided Deon's head to his slender neck. "Talath hei?"

In this instance, Deon could guess what the boy was saying. Something along the lines of: touch me?

Azel's skin smelled sweet as burnt sugar and Deon kissed it. It was only fair. Azel was putting in a lot of effort and he really seemed to want Deon to enjoy this.

"Mm." Azel hummed his approval and moved Deon's head to his chest next. The boy's nipples were small and brown and Deon licked one into his mouth. "Mm!"

Azel stroked Deon's head and murmured softly, sighing when Deon moved to the other nipple and mimicked the boy's actions earlier. Even if he hadn't particularly enjoyed having his nipples played with, Azel seemed to.

He lowered his head further and kissed down Azel's smooth chest, swirling his tongue into the furrow of the boy's navel, tasting the cool stone of a jewel, and nibbling a sharp hipbone.

He paused and stared at the boy's hard cock. It was curved and slim, much smaller than the prince's, with a pale pink head that glistened already. He remembered the prince's taste and jerked away as bile filled his mouth.

"Satale!" Azel scrambled to his feet and fetched Deon another cup, stroking his nape soothingly while he panted through nausea and drank.

Azel took the cup, when Deon had finished, and pressed Deon's head to his shoulder.

"Namal-teva." The boy breathed and kissed Deon's bruises light enough that it didn't hurt. "Namal-teva salyve, hm?"

"I still don't know what you're saying." Deon mumbled into the boy's skin, but he didn't mind. Azel's words might have rubbed Deon the wrong way, if they had understood each other.

But they didn't and Deon could only feel the boy's warmth against him. Could only listen to his soft voice and feel his steady heartbeat.

Awhile later, Azel was able to coax Deon back on the blanket and start over. Licking and stroking and kissing, until Deon was aching with need.

This time he came in Azel's mouth. There really was nothing like the pleasure of releasing on a warm tongue.

And eventually, Deon was able to reciprocate. It took a few tries, but Azel was endlessly patient. The boy tasted much lighter than the prince. His cock was smoother, sweeter, but his pre-cum was still salty.

Deon managed to keep going, even though his mouth filled with sickening saliva. He found himself wanting to do this for Azel - as a thank you - for making this experience a lot more pleasant than it would have been with Jessa or Leovan.

It helped that the boy's shaft was around the same size as Alen's. Maybe this was what his brother tasted like. Deon had yet to find out.

Azel was trembling against the blankets - dark skin wet with perspiration and lungs heaving - and when he finally came, Deon forced himself to swallow every drop, like he knew the prince would want him to in the future.

"Salyve noyva." Azel laughed breathlessly and beamed down at Deon. His grey eyes shone and a few strands of glossy black hair had escaped his braid. "Yeref'a dem, Seyin."