Enabling

Author’s note: The important stuff is at the bottom I think…
Disclaimer: All characters herein are express property of Square Enix. They are not mine and I make no profit from this story.

When a week had lapsed between the last intimate encounter with Duke Vox without so much as an outward hint that there was more to their relationship than intense dislike it was reasonable to say that Albel was strung just a tad bit tighter than was normal. When he was not training his soldiers, venting his anger upon the helplessly weak recruits, and suffering the Duke’s presence in military meetings, he spent his free hours locked away in his quarters, brooding. It was not becoming of a Nox to brood. He berated himself for succumbing to such a pathetic state of being, to pacing the floors of his room, wondering just why a summons had not been sent to him to see his (potential) fiancé. Albel wanted to kick himself for playing the fool. Instead he settled for destroying any trivial article of furniture or ornamentation in his quarters. When the full week had passed there were very few things left in his possession that were not maimed or marked in some way.

What he wanted to do more than anything was to stomp to Vox’s quarters, bang the door in and demand to know just what the man was thinking, toying with him. But his pride would not allow for such a dramatic display of emotion. The last thing he needed was a servant gossiping about how the infamous Nox had stormed into the Duke’s rooms and demanded to know why he hadn’t been called for. So instead he settled for spending his time coming up with extensive lists of creative, ahem, pet names. He had had to start writing them down, the list had become so long and some were simply too good to not record.

When a summons at last came Albel eagerly snatched the letter from the messenger’s hand and slammed the door in the startled boy’s face. The letter was torn open and Albel read it with giddy excitement that no amount of chastisement and internal criticism could quell. He was to go the Dragon Brigade’s camp where he would then be taken to Vox. The letter declared the meeting to be for war purposes, but Albel was skeptical as to the truth of that statement.

With alacrity the boy shed the sweat-damped clothing he had been training in and dawned his favored violet ensemble. He paid no heed to his reflection as he passed the mirror on his way out his quarters; he was not so thoroughly reduced to act like such a girl that he felt the need to primp before the meeting. If Vox did not like the way he looked then the man could screw off and Albel would gladly take his leave. Like he needed the Duke anyway…

When he arrived at the camp Albel was greeted by the usual busy bustle of soldiers and loud cursing and laughter that he was used to dealing with, with his own men. What he was not used to was the overpowering stench of dragon scat and the constant smell of sulfur. The smell wafting in his nostrils made him nauseous as stabbing memories arose to the surface of his mind. Just as he was about to turn and return to the city, thinking of sending some excuse back to Vox, a soldier spotted Albel and went to fetch him. Immediately he was led through the maze of tents and ushered into the Duke’s personal tent.

Upon entering three sets of eyes fell upon Albel and the man who had escorted him. They seemed to have interrupted a meeting. With a shake of his head and an aggravated sigh, Vox finished the meeting with a few brief sentences and then sent the men on their way, offered thanks to the escort, and then dismissed him as well. They were alone. Albel had no words; all of his witty remarks and cruel names to call the duke seemed to have fled from him.

The duke grinned at him from his seat. “Well?” He prompted.

Albel felt an angry flush flood his cheeks. “Well what?” He spat venomously.

“My, such sting in your words this evening. We’re in private now; don’t forget your place.”

The boy sneered. It was on the tip of his tongue to demand just where Vox thought his place was, but he thought better of it, confident that the answer would be cutting and vulgar. He settled for glaring.

Pleased with the silence, Vox leaned back in his chair, pushing it away from the table a few feet, and rested his elbows on his thighs. “Come, stand before me.”

Before he quite knew he was doing it, much less before he could stop himself, Albel had stepped forward, placing himself in front of the duke.

The man leered at him, a pleased grin on his lips. “Very good. I wish to see if you have followed my orders. Lift your sarong.”

A tremor of hesitation coursed through Albel. He was not afraid of the duke, far from it, but he’d rather not have a soldier walk in and see him with his sarong up around his waist and his lower body nude for all to view. Vox raised an eyebrow at the hesitation. With a growl Albel took the hem of the violet garment into his hands and lifted it so that the man could see.

“Ah.” Came the pleased response. “So you have listened. Very good. Step closer so I may examine you.”

Albel took a small step forward. A hand immediately reached around to caress his backside, cupping it, then massaging the firm mound.

“I was not certain whether you would bend to my will so easily. You’ve given me a pleasant surprise.”

“Hmph.”

The duke chuckled, sliding his fingers deeper to brush against the boy’s entrance. “You’re such a prideful little thing, you know that? You truly should work on divesting yourself of such arrogance, especially after the results you reaped when your hubris caused you to fail the ascension of Flames ceremony.”

The remark cut him to the quick. Albel stiffened. How dare that man say such a thing to him! Ever! He lowered his eyes, which were now burning with anger, and fixed Vox with a scathing glare. Just as he opened his mouth to retaliate, to retort and throw back one of the charming nicknames he had come up with in the past week, the Duke squeezed his rear, digging his blunt nails in painfully. A sound inadvertently left Albel’s lips.

“Let me tell you something, Albel, which I think you need to hear.” The man’s voice was stern and his fingers did not relent in their bruising grasp upon his backside. Albel was forced to lend his hearing. “You are far too wild for your own good.”

“As if you know what’s good for me” He ground out.

If it was possible, the fingers dug deeper. “You will submit to me Albel. You are incapable of submitting to anyone’s will in your day to day life. You cannot even follow the king’s orders strictly. You will learn to be submissive in the bedchamber because you cannot be so in the other domains of your life. It will be healthy for you.”

How he was to follow that reasoning, Albel did not know. Rather than argue, he simply nodded his head and waited for the fingers to relax their grip. The grip remained for a moment as Vox examined him, trying to decide whether he had understood or not. Seeming to be satisfied with the boy’s acquiescence, the duke at last relaxed his fingers. Albel allowed his muscles to relax once more.

What did he care if Vox thought he was being submissive in bed? Let the pompous jackass do all the work.

The hand returned to caressing him softly, sneaking in to tease his puckered hole with fingertips. The other hand joined, running across his soft skin, down his thigh and back up to join the other in fondling his buttocks. Albel started to quiver, his breathing becoming heavier.

Pleased with how well the boy was responding to his administrations, Vox undid the knot at the side of Albel’s sarong, allowing it to drop to the floor. His hands did not return to the boy’s flesh immediately, however.

Albel let his arms fall limply to his sides. He shut his eyes and tilted his head upwards, trying to steady the rhythm of his heart. He knew what was to come next.

When the fingers returned to probe at his entrance they were slick with something wet and cool. Doubting that there was any appropriate lubricant within easy reach, Albel surmised that the Duke had improvised and dipped his fingers in the wine he had been drinking.

The first digit slide in after some gentle coaxing at Albel’s entrance. It was worked in to the knuckle, twisted and pulled out, only to be thrust back in. Albel let out a moan at the feeling, shifting on his feet slightly. With some effort a second finger was added.

Vox took his time preparing Albel. He pumped his fingers in and out of his body, watching the boy’s expressions carefully. Albel was trembling against his will, his cock gone hard as the fingers continually pumped in and out of him, brushing against his prostate with each stroke. It was quite easy to work him into a lustful tizzy, Vox thought with a grin as he began to scissors his fingers. He turned the boy so he might have better access to the boy’s hole. He continued to stretch Albel further, eventually working a third finger inside the boy’s body.

The feel of his aching cock was torment to Albel. He wished to reach down and touch himself to relieve some of the intense pressure, but some worry stopped him. He did not think that Vox would allow him to. All he could do was shift his weight from foot to foot and rub his thighs together. He hoped that Vox would either take his cock in hand and stroke him, or fill him, because at least with the man’s cock inside of him his attention would be drawn away from his aching member.

However much he desired it, his wishes were not met. For several minutes the Duke amused himself with fucking Albel with his fingers. He would force them in to the knuckle, twist and curl them against the boy’s inner walls and prod mercilessly at his prostate.

When it was clear that Vox had no intention of touching him Albel knew he would have to get creative in his methods of relieving the damnable ache in his loins. Rather than risk an obvious attempt at touching himself, he started to rock softly against the table, rubbing his cock against the edge of the polished wood. The added feel of rocking against Vox’s fingers, bringing them deeper inside of him and allowing them to brush against his sweet spot, brought even more pleasure to him than he had imagined.

Vox was wonderfully surprised to have Albel taking such an active part in their coupling. The boy was rocking against him so eagerly; he rewarded him with a soft bite to the swell of his backside.

When Albel clamped his teeth down on his lip to keep from moaning the duke was certain that the boy would finish soon. That would not be helpful to him at all in his quest for his own satisfaction, so he withdrew his fingers.

After the fingers had left his body Albel tilted his head to look at the duke imploringly. Having long since made a routine of masturbating, and going over how he had acted in their first tryst, Albel knew well that when in a passion he tended to become…desperate, in a word. He also knew that when in that passionate moment he didn’t give a damn about how desperate he was or how pathetic he sounded.

“Vox…?” There was a distinct whine in his tone that irritated Albel and delighted Vox.

“You’ve been prepared now,” The duke said, standing, “Put your hands on the table and bend at your waist—like that.”

The boy obeyed, looking back at him nervously before dropping his gaze to the tabletop. Whereas Vox would have liked to make a teasing comment at the position Albel was in at the moment, he found his voice was arrested by how attractive the sight was. He ran his hand appreciatively over Albel’s backside, then moved lower to fondle the boy’s sac. He moved to again caress the mounds of Albel’s buttocks and a quiver passed through the flesh beneath his hand.

The duke let out a small laugh, giving the boy a playful smack on the rear. Albel let out a startled yelp.

“Remember, I have promised you a session of discipline. You had better become accustomed to the feel of my hand against your backside.”

“And when will you do that?” The boy asked, valiantly keeping any trace of concern out of his voice.

“Soon enough, but not today. That is best saved for a private place where you will be able to scream openly.”

He followed this last comment up with another slap. To the man’s surprise Albel responded with a low, mournful moan.

“You sound disappointed. Soon enough, child. Move your legs apart more.”

Albel eagerly shifted his legs apart to give the man more room. He felt the man’s hands part his buttocks and rub a thumb against his puckered entrance. One of the hands left and for a moment the only touch he felt was of the other hand massaging his flesh, attempting to relax and sooth him. Glancing over his shoulder, Albel caught eyes with Vox and was given a sign to advert his gaze. He did so, lowering himself not his elbows on the table and pressing his cheek against the cool wood.

The next touch he felt was of a well-lubricated cock head rubbing against his entrance. Albel jumped at the sudden probing; his body tensed naturally, but a harsh squeeze of his ass reminded him to relax. The tip slipped in then with minimal difficulty given the session of thorough stretching, the shaft following shortly after, but the feel of being filled so fully was still new to Albel. He could not help but contract his muscles in protest.

Behind him, Vox moaned appreciatively at the feel of Albel’s inner muscles squeezing around his length. The man looped an arm around the boy’s waist and rested his other hand on his hip. He started a slow rhythm, remembering well that Albel was unfamiliar with sexual activity with a partner. It was not that he particularly cared whether Albel was enjoying himself or not—he would learn to enjoy himself, Vox was certain--but it would not do to have the boy crying out in pain or alarm, alerting the whole of the camp as to what they were about.

For a moment the man remained still, basking in the feel of fluttering muscles around his cock, allowing Albel to become accustomed to his girth once more. When the spasm of muscles subsided the man pulled out partially then slid back in. Albel whimpered and he assumed it was in pleasure. Again he pulled out, this time further, and when he pushed back in he gripped the boy’s hip hard and pulled him backward into the thrust.

Several thoughts were running through Albel’s head as Vox slowly built up his movement. The first thing that entered his mind regarded the brief flashes of pain he felt as the man’s cock forced its way into his body and he, out of instinct, clenched against it. The pain was manageable, however, and a little taste of pain only served to heighten the rest of his feelings. The second thing he thought about was how nice it felt to have a strong arm wrapped around his middle and a firm chest partially pressed against his back. When he had become so masochistic that he enjoyed being dominated, Albel could only guess; he certainly did not like to be dominated so in any other aspect of his life. As long as this hitherto hidden desire to be submissive stayed in his sex life he supposed it wasn’t too bad.

He was jarred from his thoughts as Vox leaned further over him, pressing his chest and stomach against him fully. The man braced his arms next to Albel’s and growled into the boy’s ear as he began a new rhythm, thrusting hard and deep into the body beneath him. Albel moaned loudly. Crushed against Vox as he was and with the feel of the man’s cock buried deep inside of him, pressing against that delicious spot that made him writhe, he could not help but make noise.

The man would pull out until just the head was left in and then drive forward, ramming his rod deep into Albel’s pliant body, hitting the boy’s prostate with every thrust. Within a matter of minutes Albel was reduced to a moaning, writhing, shadow of himself.

With every stroke he delivered to the boy’s sweet spot Albel would let out a low whimper or a desperate moan. Whereas he found the noises to be most endearing and they served to make him harder, Vox had the presence of mind to remember their place in the camp. There would be other times for him to hear all of the sounds that Albel could make. Raising an arm from the table, the man clamped his hand over the boy’s mouth, minding to make sure the boy could still breathe.

With Albel silenced he could concentrate on what mattered most then: fucking. He drove into Albel’s body, pounding the boy against the table, wringing every ounce of pleasure he could from the smaller body beneath him. Any rhythm Vox had began with was abandoned, left in the wake of the glorious feel of the passage encasing his throbbing cock, the feel of skin hitting skin, the muffled sounds and the hot breath against his hand.

Vox finished with a grunt, pushing off the table to grab Albel’s hip and pull the boy against him. He filled the boy with his seed then continued to thrust, softer this time, and aimed for Albel’s sweet spot. After only a few well-aimed strokes the boy shivered, splattering his cum onto his belly and the table. With his partner sated, Vox pulled out, grabbing a nearby hand towel and wiping himself clean before tucking himself back into his pants.

For a moment the man was content to gather his sparse breath, watching as Albel lay on his table, panting heavily. When the boy made no move to clean himself Vox grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him to stand. With an inward grumble he cleaned the boy’s stomach. As for his own semen, which he noted with satisfaction was beginning to leak between the boy’s thighs, he left that. Albel should have the constant reminder that he had been claimed.

“Put your sarong back on.” The man commanded, moving to sit once more.

With a weak nod, Albel moved to obey, stooping to pick up his discarded clothing. After he had secured it about his waist he was directed to sit. He did so.

“Since you are here, we should discuss the marriage proposition further.” Vox began. Albel watched him with an intense gaze. “As for the marriage itself, we can marry at any time, though I believe sooner rather than later would be best. However, I’ll not begin looking for a concubine for you for some years.”

“Why not?!”

He lifted a hand to silence any further protest the boy might make. “You will wait to continue your familial line. You are still rather young, Albel. You’ve just reached your majority and you still have a good deal more of maturing to do in both body and mind.”

“Age should have nothing to d with this!” Albel hissed angrily. “Don’t be foolish enough to forget just what it is you and I do! We lead armies! We can die any day! The sooner I secure an heir for my family line the better.”

“I refuse, Albel. You cannot care for a child, you’re too much of a child yourself.”

Albel huffed.

“You will not receive a concubine to bare children for another few years; end of conversation.”

“Then I’m not marrying you for another few years.” The boy replied petulantly.

“My, you are a sulky brat.”

“Just remember, Vox, I don’t have to marry you. I can leave this tent and never come back. I can find a woman to give birth to my child any day. You think there aren’t pathetic maggots out there, dying to be affiliated with my rank?”

“You could do that,” Vox replied with a grin, “but then your children would have no claim to the throne.”

“What do I care? They’d still have rank.”

“Mmm, and what if you were stripped of that rank?”

There was a pause in the conversation.

Albel swallowed, his breathing gone shallow. He recognized a threat when he heard one. “You could do no such thing.”

“Don’t forget who my nephew is, child. I could very easily have you turned out from the army and stripped of any noble rank you have.”

“And you don’t think I could get you punished in some way for threatening me, should I not marry you?” The boy snarled, hackles raised in defense.

Vox laughed a genuinely amused sound. “No, you could not. Why would you not wish to marry me? You and I have been getting along so well lately.”

Albel scoffed. “I still hate you.”

“That’s besides the point. You came to me today, didn’t you?” When the boy remained silent he carried on. “I will propose the idea of our marriage in a months time. That will give you ample time to sort yourself out and prepare.”

“Prepare?” Albel lifted his head. He had previously been glaring at the table and the streaks of pearly semen still lingering on the surface.

The smile had left Vox’s face. He nodded. “There will be a fight over this. There will be opposition from more people than my nephew. Your guardian as well will have a lot to say, I imagine.”

He scowled at the mention of the old man. “Let him talk. His opinion holds no sway over me.”

“No, but it holds sway over the king.”

They paused for a moment. Albel looked at the table once more, going over possible consequences in his head. At last he opened his mouth and said, “Should the king allow us to marry, what possible problems will arise? Will one of us be stripped of our captaincy? Will there be complications in how the military will be run? Can he force some sort of agenda from us in regards to our marriage?”

It was rather endearing, watching worry flit across the boy’s face. Vox was tired of seeing nothing but cockiness and snarling hate on Albel’s fair features.

“Not to worry, child. The king is, after all, my nephew. He is younger than me and knows quite well how I handle my affairs. He will be easy enough to manipulate. It may take some time, but he will crumble to our desire in the end.”

Albel was doubtful. He knew Vox was a firm fisted bastard when it came to military matters, why should he not be so with his personal matters? It was in his nature, though, to doubt. He doubted everything and everyone now. The universe had come together once to destroy his life, why should it not do so over and over again to keep him from ever achieving happiness?

He did not voice his uncertainties, instead nodding his head absently and then dismissing himself. The sun was just beginning to sink low when Albel wandered from the camp back towards the city. It was a considerable distance; the king did not want the dragons to be too near the city, lest they excited the people or they become excited and accidentally destroyed part of the city. He could not help but grin as he remembered how his father once recounted a time when the dragons had been allowed to stay in the city. They had shat everywhere and dragon dung was both potent and large.

The memory passed and was replaced with another. He recalled one of the thoughts he had had while in Vox’s presence. The universe had come together once to destroy his life, why should it not do so over and over again to keep him from ever achieving happiness?

Would marrying the duke truly make him happy? When he had said that he hated Vox he had spoken the truth. The man was an arrogant prick. The man didn’t love him and he sure as hell didn’t love Vox. Or he hoped he didn’t; love had become an obscure, skewered thing in his mind. He respected the man’s strength of will and power. He liked that the man was royalty and that if they married his children would be considered royalty. But liking the man’s title didn’t mean he liked him.

“I despise Vox.” Albel reminded himself with a grit of his teeth. “He’s rude and condescending. He may run his part of the army well, but he’s always trying to start new battles and push our frontlines further forward after we’ve just recovered from a massive loss. We can’t just run in, swords drawn and banner flying and hope we win, we need to plan.”

He went over more of the Duke’s shortcomings in his head.

By the time his feet had carried him to his quarters Albel’s mind had become lost in a labyrinth of questions. The prospect that he might actually like Vox hung over him like a foul stench. His katana had been in need of sharpening, but Albel was beginning to shy away from that task. He did not need an inanimate object prying into his head and tormenting him by forcing him to look at his life in a new light. With a new task in mind he went to his room, sat down at his desk and set about making a pros and cons list. If he did it himself, he thought, he would be able to accept the truth, whereas hearing it from the damned sword would only raise more questions in his mind. Perhaps, he thought, when he finished he would be able to tell if he truly had feelings towards the duke or not.

END

I decided I would make this multi-chapters because, whereas I do like smutty one-shots myself, I felt that there is too much for me to do with this story. And I do already have an end in mind. Basically, this is going to show just how our lovable Albel became the way he is. That being said, the chapters are going to have more than just smut in them, there will be actual plot! Now…review people! This is an active project and what is said to me is taken into account. Reviewers shape what the writer writes. And I know you’re looking! I fixed the thing so now I can get reviews from anyone, not just members. So, hope you enjoyed the latest installment, send me questions/comments via review! Oh, and that part about a servant gossiping about Albel yelling about not being summoned…think of it as a girl barging into a boy’s room and screaming “why haven’t you called me?!”