Wuhayb hadn't had a good night's rest in a week.
And it wasn't because of an emperor or empress' whining and complaining or the laws of the universe smacking into his face in punishment. It wasn't even the stacks of debt that he had chewed a chunk out just by using Sergio Romeo's network in return for a promise that will be requested whenever, however it will be needed in some aforementioned day.
And it was not one but two reasons.
Dorian slithered up his body tossing open his robe and Wuhayb relaxed with his hands behind his neck as warm suction covered his cock. His tongue lapping at his tip before another tighter, hotter heat sucked him.
"You're not going to kiss me first, or say good morning," Wuhayb groaned as the other pulled his tongue away and rolled his hips up and bounced on his cock with enough force to suck his balls in deep too.
Dorian sank forward and then thumbed his hands across his face with his long curly hair tickling his chest, kissed his lips and then said, "Morning, now grab my hips".
His hands clutched the indents of his hips and took a long once-over Dorian's lithe body moaning and swiveling side to side. It didn't take long for him to spill over. His warmth tightened around his cock draining him dry until Dorian fell forward with his arms wrapped around his shoulder and kiss drawing in, around his lips, lazily.
Dorian rolled his hips again as if waiting for the last spurt of cum and then sighed before sliding off the bed and tossing a new robe on. Wuhayb was left on the bed wondering his life choices as the other snapped on his sandals and said, "I'm finishing up a new blend of oils. Be careful!" before slamming the door shut.
"You feel used, don't you?" Laughed Johannes, who had been reading a book on the other side of the room.
Wuhayb pouted. "A little bit."
"Dorian, out of all of us and more than any of us, even Donte, has always wanted a child," Johannes shrugged. "Does it bother you?"
"No, actually," Wuhayb continued on, staring up at the wooden ceiling. "Should it?"
"I've checked your accounts, and I think in a year or two, the debt will be completely paid off, your family left you a decent inheritance that will pay for the other expenses," Johannes added, snapping the bound book closed. "With those numbers, I would say no."
He sauntered over and then lightly curled Wuhayb's hair around his fingers, flipping his legs over his hips before trailing his nail up and down his chest.
"Are you tired?"
Yes.
"No," he shook his head hurriedly. "Not at all."
Johannes was always no fuss and to the point. The outfit he wore now was less revealing but still short enough that all Wuhayb had to do was lift the cloth and lace over his hips. He rolled them both on their side and Johannes hooked his leg around his hip catching only the tip of his now hardening cock.
His tongue twisted in his mouth as his hands grappled tightly against his robes until his tip slipped in. Johannes fully rolled his hip onto his cock until he filled him to the rim. He flipped over Johannes until he could wrap his hands under his back plunging in and out of his heat. The blonde threw his head back tightening his legs around his back as his thrusts sped up. He felt his hip stutter as he released again.
Johannes looked up at him and stole a few kisses before a few kisses turned into more kisses and more kisses turned into tongue. It wasn't long before he was in Johannes again, cumming again.
"We've got another week before we leave," Wuhayb panted as his body began cooling down.
Johannes nodded into his shoulder. "How are we supposed to act?"
"In our own home, any way you want."
"And outside?"
"Use the Cordero name," he brushed some of his wayward hair behind his ears. "Whenever and however you want."
"You're spoiling us."
"Am I?"
Wuhayb had lost his entire family to the plague that swept through five years prior. And his only surviving relative was a monster. In his mind, there was no Heaven, no Hell, if a man like that is given the chance for life when others did not. As one of the major families, the first thing they did when all things fell apart was cut him out of every inheritance that could be sent off to some other family.
Now that he would be able to start again, there was no amount of money high enough.
He wasn't sure how long he slept but he heard the bed rustling and a few snatched whispers.
"Love, wake up," Johannes whispered in his ear. "The Commander said it's urgent. He said it had something to do with Akira Lin and the brothel."
Wuhayb's eyes snapped open.
Jata Naira and Luciano were ten years apart.
In his youth, bar fights and drinking long into the night was his past time. And that little rascal would goad, spit, and kick with the best of them. The best parts of the evening were a good and bloody fight. And it made sense to him, their family name and all, was a nicer way to call them the Butchers.
That's what they used to be a long time ago, before their frilly nobility.
Butchers.
He wandered into the relieving servant quarters that had effectively been emptied out for the new ones coming in. Dorian and Johannes had moved in with Wuhayb before they shipped out for the Empire. Wuhayb said he was due for a vacation and he thought about the last time he was home.
More than ten years ago. After he heard the news of the plague and his parents survival, he waved off her their worries.
It seemed he had more reason not to return.
Hands ran over his face before it lifted his chin, Isaiah's soft voice said, "You look tired."
"I am."
Whatever burst of energy he had, expired out of his body when Jata Naira walked past. He was exhausted but he didn't want to show that to her of all people.
Isaiah sat on the bench, pulling him closer. He laid his head on his smaller lap while Isaiah began brushing his fingers through his hair. The long benches were long enough to hold him as he lay down and some of his tension fell out of his body.
"Did someone say something?"
"I saw someone I hadn't seen in awhile."
"Someone you feel guilty for."
Luciano swallowed hard. His throat felt dry but it needed to be said. "Yes. When we were--when they were young, and I was foolish, we played around saying things we shouldn't have said. The things we said--that's why they started having relieving servants at every Carolingian campground and--and the reason why they don't have titles anymore. Indirectly, I'm to blame for Sarai's death. Directly, it's my fault you can't even--"
Isaiah paused, and Luciano moved to leave, but the other held him still.
"I'm sorry," Lucian broke out. "It's my fault. For being dumb and reckless. And not realizing how serious this all was--is."
"You weren't even a general ten years ago," Isaiah pinched his cheeks until the older man winced. "Who blames themselves for something they didn't do."
"My words gave them the idea to continue beating our own people down," Luciano hissed. "I was warned by my father to be careful but I didn't take it seriously."
"And now, all you do is take things seriously," Isaiah sighed. "Your shoulders can hold a lot but I don't think it can hold all of our Empire's sins."
"But someone should try and--and--heal them, shouldn't they?"
"I've never seen it but I've heard more than enough to know the Empire is afflicted with a deep wound," Isaiah frowned. "It's not much but it's enough."
Luciano gently caressed Isaiah's arm, thumbing it before trailing tickling kisses along it up his collar and to his cheeks. He said, "I should see my parents and make up for my failures. Everyone is moving ahead. So, should I."
"You should," Isaiah breathed out. "And if you're bored, you can send me letters."
"Why would I send someone letters when I could just walk to the next room to see them?" Luciano questioned. "It's a bit odd."
Isaiah smiled a watery smile. "You don't have to protect me any more. Eventually, I'm going to have sleep with someone."
"Then, I'll court you properly," Luciano said as he kissed his hands again and again. "So you'll never have to worry about who that person will ever be."
With a hesitant nod, Isaiah agreed and Luciano stroked his cheeks before Isaiah pulled him into a soft kiss and a smile against his lips.