Eugene is infuriating.
This is a simple fact of life. Everyone in Dierendt must be aware of this by now, if only because of the ridiculous law his mother made banning shit-talk about the little fucker. To say Michel is not pleased to have him in their party is an understatement.
Eugene is a lot of things Michel hates. Royalty, smug, pompous, never yearned for anything a day in his life. He’s annoying and terrible and cocky.
The annoying thing is: the cockiness isn’t entirely misplaced. Sure, maybe too much of it is based on his looks, which even Michel has to admit are. Uh. Well, there’s a reason people are all too willing to fall to their knees for him. But the real thing about Eugene that inspires awe is his skill with his sword.
No, not that sword.
Michel really thought that the trial would be over quickly, that Eugene’s sword was nothing more than a pretty decoration, but, boy, did Eugene prove him wrong. Eugene actually gave him a work out. He held his own fantastically well. And it was incredible to see him in action, all force and grace and undoubtable strength in his strikes.
It was a shock, not that Michel would ever let Eugene know that. That bastard doesn’t need anything else to boost his ego.
Still, there’s no reason Michel can’t think it in the privacy of his own mind. And his own bed.
Eugene is infuriatingly pretty. His broad shoulders and perfect pecs and pert ass really make a gorgeous picture, and as Michel’s hand drifts towards his pants, he can’t help but imagine just how good Eugene would look on his knees, or in Michel’s bed, or strung up in beautiful knots. Michel’s not known to be indecisive, but, oh, there are a lot of things he would like to do to Eugene.
Eugene would probably let him, Michel muses, half hard as he loosens the ties on his trousers. He’s in the next room, Michel could go over there, knock on Eugene’s door, and have Eugene’s mouth on his cock within minutes.
Oh, that’s a tempting thought. If only Michel were bolder he could twine his fingers in Eugene’s gorgeous silver hair and yank him around like a dog.
Eugene would love it, Michel’s sure. Hell, he’d be eager for Michel to do everything he wants with him and more. Michel’s hand is wrapped around his cock now as he imagines Eugene looking up at him from the floor, a flush on his pretty face, practically begging to put his mouth on Michel.
The question is, would Michel let him? Not at first, no. Again, he can’t encourage Eugene’s ego. No, he has to work for it. He has to prove to Michel that he’s worth it, just like he did earlier today in their fight.
Michel would press his clothed dick against Eugene’s eager mouth, teasing him with his heft and heat. He would cup the back of Eugene’s neck and pull him in, so all that Eugene is breathing is pure Michel.
Eugene would whine, his voice high and needy. He would do his best to get Michel off just like this, mouthing all over his crotch as if that would ever be enough. Surely, he would know that it’s not, but, oh, will he ever try. He would get frustrated eventually. It’s awfully boring when no one’s coming. He would lean back and look at Michel haughtily.
“Are you going to show me what you’re made of, or are we going to actually do something tonight?” He would ask, his voice dripping with disdain, though the roughness in his throat would give away how turned on he actually is.
“Maybe,” Michel would smirk at Eugene. He wouldn’t offer more than that. Let his royal highness figure out what to do himself. How will he cope with no direction?
Eugene would huff and pout about it until he would just go for it, untying Michel’s breeches with deft fingers that move with the experience of someone only as promiscuous as Eugene. Michel would grab Eugene by his horns and thrust his hips forward right as Eugene wraps his lips around Michel’s cock.
Eugene wouldn’t choke on it, he would take it beautifully, just like he does everything else. He would take all of Michel like a pro. And Michel is really jerking himself now as he imagines using Eugene’s horns as an anchor as he fucks his face.
It would be wet and sloppy, messier than Eugene likes to get, but oh so worth it to watch him fall apart like that. Absolutely blissed out on Michel’s dick, caught up in being used like this.
Michel bucks into his hand, his toes digging into the rough texture of the blanket underneath him as he thinks about Eugene trying to use all of the tricks he knows, desperate to get Michel off, but Michel won’t let him, he would rather fuck his face, all roughness, no finesse.
Well, the prince should get used to roughing it out considering they will be on the road starting tomorrow. He’s going to have to adapt to getting down and dirty. And not in the fun way.
Speaking of getting dirty…
Michel wonders whether Eugene spits or swallows… Not that it matters really. Michel would rather come all over his gorgeous face.
And, oh, Michel is so close, thinking about how ruffled and used up Eugene would look with come splattered across his face. Maybe he would even dart his tongue out to lick some of it up, the absolute horny fuck that he is. Or, Michel could rub it into Eugene’s skin. Mark him up so Eugene would forever know that Michel Was Here.
At that, Michel comes all over his hand, his back arching as his orgasm rips through him. He lays there panting for several minutes after. Gods, that’s the hardest he’s come since he learned what his dick was.
Once the afterglow fades away though, Michel is hit with the reality of what he just did and he throws his arm over his eyes as he groans.
He can never let Eugene know about this. Michel would never live it down.