Enabling

Their first year of marriage passed with little excitement. Being apart for the majority of time and during a war, there was little time for kissing games and afternoon strolls in the park while they held hands. When they did see one another there was a small amount of talking and a round of sex before they parted. The longest time that the two had spent together was in the city, when the captains were summoned for a strategy meeting. For five days they had been able to meet and sneak away to have a session of hanky panky.

Albel had warmed up to Vox considerably. Whereas he did not restrain the insults from leaving his lips, he would be as civil as he could when they were alone. Being apart had benefits. They talked little, so they did not bicker. If they had one day decided to sit and have a conversation a debate would have ensued about proper ways to go around winning the war. Whereas Albel was all for crushing the Aquarian scum in battle, his main goal was for peace. If a truce would bring that peace he would suffer the indignity of pretending he forgave the trash across the border.

Vox, on the other hand, would not be happy until they had destroyed the Aquarians. Where his rage had come from, Albel did not know, but it was disturbing. There were benefits to making a treaty with Aquaria: food for one. There was a surplus of food in Aquaria, whereas the people of Airyglyph starved. A treaty would bring about trade, which would feed the country and fuel the economy. But Vox could not see past his blind hatred. Albel tried once or twice to make the man see that there could be great benefits to be reaped if they could bully Aquaria into surrendering or even—he gagged to say it—by creating a truce with them. The duke had looked at him with cold anger and said very calmly,

“That is the talk of a traitor.”

The boy had bristled and then snarled angrily back, “Is that an accusation?!”

Vox did not reply immediately. He stared levelly at Albel for a moment before saying carefully, “Thoughts like that can lead down a dangerous path.”

Albel glower at him indignantly, spitting out an insult. “Warmonger!”

Vox left later that evening and was not seen again by his spouse for three weeks without any forwarded messages. When they did at last see each other an awkward silence hung between them. They were both too stubborn to back down from their beliefs and they would have rather been stabbed than apologize. So they never spoke of the topic again. It was silently decided then that they would avoid speaking of politics as best they could when alone.

After a meeting one day Arzei paused Albel and Vox on their way out. He smiled at them, seemingly pleased.

“I’m going to grant you a favor.” The king stated with a cheerful smile.

“I don’t remember asking for a favor.” Albel thought dryly. He glanced at Vox and, judging by the look on his spouse’s face, the man was thinking the same thing.

“As an anniversary present of sorts,” Arzei began happily, “I’m allowing you to take a weeks leave from war business to spend time with one another.”

Albel let out a loud, short laugh. “That’s a favor?”

The king frowned. Vox glared at the boy then cleared his throat. “What would you have us do during this time off?”

“Well, that’s your business I suppose. Spend time together would be my answer, Vox. You’ve not been able to have much time together and I thought this week spent living with one another would be beneficial. I trust that sometime soon the war will end and you will be sharing quarters without worry.”

Albel scoffed again. He hoped that the war would end soon, but he did not trust in the thought.

“That being said,” Arzei continued, his happy expression melting to one of sternness, “Given the precarious nature of your union, you will have to remain closeted away in one of your quarters for the week. One of you will, out of necessity, be in hiding. You cannot be seen in one another’s quarters.”

“DUH” Albel screamed in his head. Was Arzei truly smart enough to run a country? Why hadn’t Vox taken control when the throne was open? He would have to ask.

“So…whose quarters will you be staying in?”

“Mine.” Albel and Vox said in unison. They turned icy glares to one another.

“We’re staying in my quarters.” Albel said sternly.

Vox laughed. “Your bed can’t fit the both of us, nor are your rooms large enough to house us both. We are staying in my quarters, where there is space and where I can lock myself away from you when you become too annoying to bear.”

A fight broke out there and it was just about to escalate into violence when the king interrupted.

“Albel, I order you to spend the week in Vox’s quarters.”

That put an end to that. Albel snarled at Arzei angrily. The smug look of triumph on the duke’s face only served to make him angrier. There was little he could do at that point. Arguing with Arzei would be highly disrespectful. He considered it for a few long moments but then stopped.

Vox escorted Albel back to his quarters so the boy could pack a bag of necessities for the coming week. The alibi they were given was that Albel would be away on a mission for a week. Anyone with a brain would have been able to see through that lie, Albel thought, but then again, not many people used their brains.

That first evening of their ‘vacation’ Albel spent sleeping on a settee in Vox’s den. Neither of them were in a hurry to repeat the first night of their marriage. The next day, when they had slept and regenerated their energy, they would come up with a sleeping arrangement.


The week was rather dull. The war was both of their lives. Being apart from it, there was little else to do save read. Albel would sit in the duke’s den, taking books off the shelves and spending the entire day deep in stories. What Vox did, Albel was not entirely sure. He paid very little attention to the man.

Th evenings were more eventful. Regardless of the fact that they had been ordered away from the war, Vox would spend the evening going over documents that pertained to it. Often times he would have Albel stand beside him or sit on the arm of his chair with legs spread so that he could easily finger the boy.

Albel would lean into him, reaching to stroke the man’s hair, kiss what skin he could reach. If he was in a particularly romantic mood, Vox would pick the boy up and carry him to bed and ravish him.

But a week was too long to be idle. After five days Albel took to pacing the floors; his mood had curdled. Being young and married was all fine and good, he decided, until one realizes with utter horror and ennui married life brings. The young captain was all too happy to pack his bag on the sixth night.

Vox watched him with mild interest as he shoved what few belongings he had brought with him into a bag.

Albel glanced back at him with a sour expression. “I hate you.”

Vox grinned. “I’m fond of you all the same.”

The boy scoffed, pushing his bag toward the wall and then sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re a sick man.”

The duke ignored the insult, standing and moving towards his young spouse. “Are you planning on leaving during the night?”

“It was my intention.”

“Mmm, you weren’t going to leave without giving me a proper farewell, were you?”

A warm hand set on Albel’s shoulder then slid down his arm. A grin twitched at the corner of the boy’s mouth. “I haven’t had a very fun time, why should I do you some sort of favor like that?”

“Because I’m the one who has been feeding you and allowing you to sleep in my bed.”

“Pffft. You’re fulfilling your husbandry duties.”

“Then fulfill your wifely duties and take your clothes off.”

Something in his head snapped and Albel turned and snarled at Vox angrily. He did not have time to give an acidic retort however; the man gripped his chin harshly and mashed their lips together. Strong arms circled his shoulders and drew him into the kiss. Albel struggled valiantly, pushing against the man’s chest and even biting at the lips pressed against his own, but it was to no avail. Vox was larger and heavier and, he hated to admit it, physically stronger than he was.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Vox said, pulling back, but keeping a firm hold on the boy.

Albel glowered at him. “You have a lot of nerve to threaten me after what you said.”

“What did I say? Ah, the comment about you being my wife? You’re so fun to tease, Nox. It’s so easy to get under your skin.”

Albel snorted angrily, turning his head away. “What do you want, pig?” It was the closest to an acquiescence that the duke was likely to get.

The hold on the boy loosened. Vox’s expression melted to one of seriousness as he gazed at the boy.

“Present yourself to me.”

It took Albel a moment to figure out just what it was the man was asking of him. When his mind finally made sense of the command a light shade of pink made its way onto the bridge of his nose. Regardless of embarrassment, he nodded and obediently slipped from the duke’s grasp and began to undress.

Vox watched with barely veiled lust as Albel crawled back onto the bed, naked, and knelt on all fours, head down, rear raised invitingly to whoever wished to claim him. Crimson eyes looked back, gone soft from the vulnerable position he was in.

Shifting to kneel behind the boy, Vox unbuckled his pants and pulled himself out. His hands then grasped Albel’s buttocks, squeezing the firm flesh, moving over it soothingly. He vented the boy, baring the puckered hole he would be thrust deeply in so soon. He circled it with a thumb, earning a harsh intake of breath and a soft gasp from the boy.

“Albel” Vox began, leaning over to grab a phial of lubricant and coating his cock, “There is more that I require of you”

The young captain lifted his head, trying to look back at his spouse. His questioning look prompted the man to respond with a soft smile,

“Pretend you want to be taken.”

Albel smirked and laughed a bit. “Keep in mind it’s all a farce.”

“Of course.”

Vox pressed the slick tip of his cock against Albel’s entrance and pushed in. Beneath him, Albel squirmed, willing his body to accept the man’s thick shaft. He bit his lip to keep a sound in, then gasped when the man thrust forward eagerly and hit against his sweet spot.

Vox rested a hand on his young lover’s hip then circled his other arm around the boy’s middle. He set up a slow, hard pace, making sure to hit Albel’s prostate with each thrust. It would have been easy to give in to his temptations and simply thrust with abandon into the pliant body beneath him, but he knew that the longer he held out, the better the finish would be.

What Vox had told Albel to do went against Albel’s nature. He could read the man’s words and knew exactly what the man meant. He wanted Albel to act weak. He wanted Albel to need him. The duke certainly had strange fetishes that got him off.

Albel knew all about role-playing and pretending; he even had some twisted fantasies of his own. But he was not fully prepared for Vox to tell him to act. He hated to be weak and to play the part willingly seemed like a cop out. But it was just for the night…so long as the duke never asked him again…or waited a considerable time, he supposed that it would be all right.

Shifting a bit, Albel lifted his hips and let a soft whimper pass his lips. Vox faltered a bit, surprised by the tone of the sound. With an inner snicker, Albel opened his mouth and moaned wantonly, whispering then,

“Vox…take me.”

Responding to the command, Vox began to slam into the body beneath him, thrusting with a vigor that Albel had not experienced before. The strength that the man applied forced him to lay his stomach and chest on the bed. He curled his fingers in the covers, letting out harsh gasps as his prostate was hit over and over again.

“Ngh, yes, Vox! Take me harder!”

But even as the words left his mouth it felt wrong. He would not look back, if he looked back the man would see the truth in his eyes and the fantasy would be over. And Albel was not particularly sure he wanted to see the expression on the duke’s face. If the man was enjoying himself immensely Albel was certain it would hurt him to see that. So best not to look, best to bury his head in his arms and continued moaning strings of pleas, regardless of the sick churning in his belly.

The man shifted, leaning forward to rest his chest against Albel’s hunched back. He continued to thrust, hard and deep, growling pleasantly into the boy’s ear as Albel begged to be claimed. He came at last, spurting his seed deep into Albel’s body.

Albel was not so lucky. He came, coating his belly and the covers, but it was hardly a satisfactory orgasm. He hated Vox for making him do such a thing, but more than that he hated himself for giving in to the man’s demands.

“Did you enjoy that?” Vox asked, leaning down to kiss at the column of his neck.

It was on the tip of his tongue to blurt out how disgusted he was, but something stopped him. Albel swallowed thickly and lied. “Yes.”

The man chuckled, craning his neck to place a kiss on Albel’s cheek. “I knew you only needed a strong master who could draw out your vulnerability.”

The urge to vomit rose with in the boy. He should have spoken his mind. It was too late to speak up though. Vox had it in his head that he had enjoyed it and if he denied it now the man would only think he was embarrassed of the truth.

What startled Albel the most was that Vox was almost affectionate after their little session of role-playing. He pressed soft kisses to Albel even as he took a cloth and cleaned the boy of semen. He even lovingly wrapped his young spouse in a blanket so as not to get a chill from the cold air.

“So he had liked it”, Albel thought with a frown. Now that he knew that fact a deep uneasiness settled in the pit of his stomach. Vox enjoyed seeing him weak and desperate. And now that the man thought he had enjoyed the playing, he would ask again. Could he say no to the duke, Albel wondered with alarm. He would have to! Or he would keep on lying and that notion did not sit well within him.


Freedom was a blessing to Albel. He left the duke’s quarters during the deep night, slipping out of the possessive grip on his waist. He had a notion that he had created a large problem for himself.

Sleeping in his own bed was a relief. He was at last alone. New thoughts dawned on him and a new sense of dread filled Albel’s mind. He had not enjoyed the past week at all. He and Vox spent so much time apart, it was like they weren’t married at all…and he liked that. He didn’t want to be married.

Albel cursed, bringing his flesh hand up and pressing his palm against his forehead. “What the hell have I done?”

Now that he realized there was a problem, he would have to find a solution to it. And quickly. If Vox asked him to be weak again he ran the risk of either greatly disappointing his spouse—who he did have some bit of care for—or disappointing himself. He was uncertain which disappointment mattered more to him.

~END

Yay, another chapter done! The next one has more action. So glad you’re enjoying this anon. I’m sure there are other anons out there who are enjoying it too (they’re just not reviewing!). So…do you write or draw anon? I’m always looking for this pairing as well. Anything you want to see, expect to see, enjoyed immensely, I’d love to hear! Oh, and I know I screwed up awhile ago about Albel having the crimson scourge at the time, but rather than pretend I didn’t mess up, I’m just going to go with it. Review! More praise, more chapters!