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Laurent came to very slowly. Light seemed blinding as his eyes blinked open, and it took time for his brain to be anything more than a haze of leftover dreams. When it became useful again, it registered his situation in waves.
Wave one. He was not in the rooms that had been prepared for his trip to Ios. The bed -- if you could call it that -- that he found himself in was most certainly not meant for him. It was a traditional Akielon bed that was more a pile of cushions, blankets, and pillows than it was actual furniture.
It was a piece of furniture meant for multiple people, designed for Akielon nobility and their slave harems. Which brought his thoughts to wave two.
He was not alone in this “bed.” In fact he currently had the hair of one of his bed partners in his mouth. He reached up to remove it and felt the small movement through his entire body. It ached and strained in ways Laurent didn’t know it could.
It felt as if he’d been riding for a full day, and then went all night in bed with Damen.
But Damen wasn’t in Ios. He had to stay behind at Marlas which left Laurent attending to the matters at his husband’s former home. He knew it would be a stressful trip, but it was also time for the people in the south to realize that Laurent was their king just as much as Damen was.
Damen had assured him everything would be fine. He would have Nikandros to help him after all.
Nikandros. Whose hair was curled and long just like the locks Laurent now held in his hand.
His eyes followed the strand of hair to its owner and sure enough, there he was beside him. Deep in sleep, for once not looking stressed in the presence of Laurent.
He was asleep on his back, limbs sprawled outward, and Laurent was surprised to notice his head was not resting on a pillow but on Nikandros’s arm.
But Nikandros was not snoring, and the sound of snoring was certainly filling the room.
He thought, for a moment, that if he didn’t turn around maybe the other person would go away. Sleeping with Nikandros was already a lot to deal with, throwing another person into the mix was making Laurent’s head hurt even more than it already was.
The snoring reached a peak and then there was a cough and the sound of someone shifting behind him. Luckily, they were not sounds of waking.
Instead, his second bed partner rolled onto his side and pressed closer to Laurent. He felt the scratch of a hairy chest on his back. A thick and sturdy arm reached over Laurent’s midsection and pulled him closer, moving him onto Nikandros’s forearm, which was much more sensitive to Laurent’s weight and caused the man to grimace in his sleep.
It was a terrifying thing -- under the certain circumstances -- to watch Nikandros wake.
Laurent’s mind sought out a plan for escape, but thinking too hard caused a throbbing pain near his forehead.
Nikandros was even longer in registering his situation than Laurent. He seemed content to remove his arm out from under Laurent and lazily pet him instead.
Laurent found himself furious at how nice it felt.
Then confusion sparked in his eyes, and they became a little wider.
“I don’t have a blonde,” he remarked, sleepy and sounding much like a man who over indulged the night before.
“A blonde what?” Laurent questioned, finding his voice less cutting when it was laced with unusual grogginess.
“Pet?” he answered, as if he was unsure what to call the former slaves he employed.
Laurent thought back on the women and men he’d seen serve Nikandros.
“Yes you do,” he argued, and Nikandros grumbled a negative under his breath.
“Her hair is a light brown, not blonde.”
Laurent made a noise in argument but didn’t press further.
Nikandros finally seemed to notice he was still petting Laurent and abruptly stopped. Laurent couldn’t hold in a whine at the loss.
They stared at each other for a moment, coming to the silent agreement that despite this situation being unfavorable, neither were in a state to leave the bed.
A loud snore behind Laurent brought him back to the other problem at hand.
Nikandros’s expression changed from annoyed to horrified.
Laurent swallowed -- and chose to ignore the fact that his own mouth tasted of an unpleasant mix of griva, body oil, and cum, “Who is it behind me?”
Nikandros seemed to be weighing the consequences of the answer versus refusing to answer in his head.
“I can detach him from you, and you could leave without turning around,” he offered.
Laurent cocked an eyebrow at that, the action brought another wave of throbbing pain through his head, “That’s awfully nice of you, but if I have to turn around and see for myself, my headache will get worse, and you will find me even more unpleasant.”
Nikandros cleared his throat and took a long blink, “Makedon is behind you.”
Laurent did not want to admit that he had suspected as much. Instead, he answered with an, “Ah.”
Nikandros shifted awkwardly again, “Do you remember,” he shifted again, jostling Laurent a little this time too, “much from last night?”
His final shift did the opposite of what he seemed to want, and Laurent felt something hot and hard against his hip, but just for a moment. Nikandros fixed his mistake quickly.
With the headache, it took a while for Laurents thoughts and memories to straighten out, but they finally became close to clear.
“I remember some things,” he couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his lips, “very well.”
--
Nikandros and Laurent were equally disappointed that Damen had to stay behind in Marlas.
Makedon thought his presence could make up for this, easily. He was in Ios to be awarded for his efforts in bringing to justice the bandits participating in the illegal slave trade. Surely, that alone would be enough to make Laurent smile at the sight of him.
He should have known that would not be the case. The only person he’s met that is more stubborn than Nikandros is Laurent.
“Both of you,” he said at dinner, with a mouthful of food, “look like you have been eating unripe apricots for an entire week.”
Laurent was not amused by his comparison. Nikandros at least gave him a smile out of pity.
“You know!” he tried after that, “You two actually have a lot in common!”
That got glares from both of them.
“Haha… I only meant that you both love King Damianos!” he corrected.
Laurent looked amused by that statement; Nikandros did not.
“In very different ways,” Nikandros added in.
Laurent replied with a teasing grin, “Oh, yes, of course.”
Nikandros’s face twisted into anger at that.
Makedon didn’t understand what the anger was for, exactly, so in favor of speaking again, he took another large bite of food.
Laurent and Nikandros continued to bicker back and forth, about architecture, no less, and Makedon was endlessly thankful when one of the servants brought out the gift of griva he arrived in Ios with.
“You two will enjoy each other better with some drink!” he promised.
They both looked skeptical, but Laurent tossed back the drink offered to him anyways. Nikandros took this as a challenge, and swallowed down his without a grievance as well.
A competition was not exactly what Makedon had in mind, but with enough griva, neither of them would be coherent enough to know who won.
He shooed the servant away and took over the task of refilling their cups (and his own).
To Makedon’s dismay, the drink did not stop them from bickering. Instead, it just made their arguments even more ridiculous.
“If you are going to wear your hair so long,” Laurent commented, “Then you should at least learn how to braid properly.”
Makedon would not have seen this as an insult, but Nikandros did.
“I have better things to do,” Nikandros told him, and Laurent frowned.
“Well I do not. So turn around.”
Makedon was surprised when Nikandros listened to him.
Laurent combed his fingers through Nikandros’s hair once and then stopped.
“Nevermind,” he said, with a look of disgust, “Your hair is greasy.”
“It is not,” Nikandros argued and then tied half his hair into a bun as if this would put an end to Laurent’s complaints.
“You don’t even use string?” Laurent sounded shocked.
“Why should I? It stays back better when tied in a knot.”
Laurent looked incredibly scandalized by this, to the point he untied the leather chord holding his own hair back in a loose ponytail and tied it in a pretty bow around Nikandros’s wrist.
“Here,” he told him, “For when you want to put up your clean hair.”
Nikandros looked offended by that, too.
Makedon did not think it offensive. Neither, it seemed, did most of their surrounding company, who watched the action with surprised gazes.
Makedon was sure, that if they were in Vere instead of Akielos, rumors that the Kyros and King were fucking would already be flying through the palace.
As it was, Makedon couldn’t help adding his own fuel to the fire.
“You know,” he began with a smirk, “I’ve had soldiers, in the past, who acted a lot like you two.”
It took them both a while to turn their attention to Makedon.
“What do you mean?” asked Laurent.
“Always bickering, trying to one up the other. And you know what?”
“What?” Nikandros asked this time.
“It all stopped after they’d finally fucked.”
Nikandros looked scandalized. Laurent looked thoughtful. One of his hands was already squeezing at Nikandros’s bicep.
His gaze turned to Makedon, and Makedon shifted nervously in his seat.
“Perhaps,” Laurent began, just as Nikandros realized he was being fondled, “We require some assistance.”
Nikandros seemed more exasperated at this comment than shocked.
“I believe it is time we enjoy the rest of our drink in private,” Makedon announced and helped Laurent to stand, who in turn tugged on Nikandros until he followed.
There would no doubt be talk spread of their exit, even Akielons could not help themselves when presented with such a display.
Makedon did not know how to find either of their chambers, and the two of them were too busy giggling and fondling each other to help him, so he led them to his rooms instead, sat them down on the chaise there and then made to leave.
Laurents voice stopped him.
“I was not making fun,” Laurent told him, “When I requested your assistance.”
Makedon looked at Laurent’s lounging figure and then at Nikandros, who was acting a virgin and pouring more drink rather than just get on with it.
“I do not want to do anything that would upset Damen,” Nikandros finally said as Makedon took the drink Nikandros had poured for himself, and Laurent stroked his face soothingly.
“The only thing that will upset him,” Laurent assured him, “Is that he is not here to watch.”
At that, Laurent kissed him, and Makedon had the privilege of the show as he sipped the griva -- he’d left a stronger batch in his room than what was served at dinner.
Nikandros was quick to melt into the kiss, immediately tugging at Laurent’s clothes that were an odd mix of the Veretian and Akielon styles.
Either in his drunkenness or enthusiasm, he ended up ripping them off rather than properly undressing him.
Laurent was spurred on by this, quickly shedding the remnants of his clothes and removing his boots. Then he was climbing onto Nikandros’s lap, all his pale skin on display to the room.
Their kisses sounded wet, as Nikandros’s hands roamed Laurent’s skin, and Makedon found himself still content to watch.
Makedon was never one to shy away from royalty just because they were royalty. A man had to prove himself before he gained any respect, and even then Makedon had a hard time thinking of most men as more than equals.
Theomedes had been an exception, and Damianos wad quickly filling that spot.
Seeing Laurent on display like this, skin pale to the point of almost white, spattered lightly with freckles from the sun, he felt an odd sense of unworthiness. It was not his place to touch this man, and he had half a mind to put a stop to this whole thing; a Kyros isn't worthy enough to touch him either.
Laurent halted his thoughts with a hand on his wrist, pulling him forward so suddenly that his empty cup fell from his grasp. He pulled him until he was pressed against the chaise behind them. Then he led Makedon’s hand to his hair.
It was so silky soft, more so than any of the slaves Makedon had in his lifetime. He was captivated by the act of petting it, combing his hands through it until he swore he could feel Laurent purring like a cat.
His lips were swollen red when he finally parted from Nikandros -- who quickly turned his mouth’s attention to Laurent’s elegant neck.
Makedon ran his thumb over his red mouth, and Laurent parted it on a sigh when Nikandros bit him. Makedon pushed it past those parted lips, felt his soft wet tongue, and Laurent closed his eyes when he began to suck at it lightly.
He watched as Nikandros pulled him up by two hands gripping his buttocks, forcing Laurent to go to his knees straddling him, so Nikandros could move from his neck to his pink nippes, still kneading the plump flesh of his ass as he lavished the buds in attention.
Makedon’s thumb slipped from Laurent’s mouth with the movement, so soft oh’s and gasps could fall past his lips easily.
“I want to move,” Laurent managed to get out, and Nikandros looked unhappy by this declaration for a moment, until he was reminded of Makedon’s presence.
Nikandros carried Laurent to the room’s bed, dropping him gently amongst the blankets and cushions.
He undressed himself, and Makedon followed suit. Laurent looked very pleased by this; his eyes roamed hungrily over both of them, and settled thoughtfully at Nikandros’s crotch.
“It doesnt loon it when you are not roused, but you are bigger than Damen,” he announced, and Makedon could not help but guffaw.
Nikandros did not look pleased by this observation.
“I don’t think so,” he argued, and Laurent shook his head in disagreement.
“I think I would know better than you.”
“Ha!” Makedon added in, “Quite the bragging rights!”
“There is nothing to brag about,” Nikandros continued to argue.
He was kneeling too far away for Laurent to get his hands on him, so instead he stretched out one of his legs so his foot could stroke over the length of him. Makedon was mesmerized by the sight. Nikandros is indeed well endowed, larger in length than Laurent’s foot -- which is rather dainty, Makedon thinks, and not a great comparison.
“Indeed,” Laurent finally agreed, but Nikandros’s relief was short-lived, “You lack his bulk in other places, so it looks rather grotesque.”
Nikandros was quick to react by tackling Laurent in a common wrestling maneuver (although a slightly drunken version of it).
Makedon left the boys to it while he found a rather large vial of oil to toss amongst the pillows.
Laurent reacted to the gift by flipping Nikandros onto his back with a surprisingly skilled wrestling move of his own.
“Do you wrestle frequently?” Makedon jested.
Laurent smiled at him, “Nikandros taught me.”
Makedon was, again, content to watch as Laurent poured a generous amount of oil in his hand and worked it over Nikandros’s cock with his long fingers.
He stroked his own cock lazily as Laurent lost himself in the task of slicking up Nikandros. He poured some more oil directly onto Nikandros and busied himself in spreading the oil over his stomach and thighs, until he was glistening in the candelight. His tongue poked between his lips as he focused on the area behind Nikandros’s balls, and Nikandros shot him a glare and thrusted into the air lightly, as if to remind Laurent where he’d prefer his focus.
The light swat that Laurent gave Nikandros’s cock erupted another short bout of laughter from Makedon.
Laurent handed the bottle of oil, still uncorked, to Makedon once he bored of oiling Nikandros.
With a cheeky smile he presented himself, ass in the air with his front pressed down so that Nikandros could mouth at his neck again.
When he looked back at Makedon, his gaze was as sultry as it was playful.
“Would you assist me?” he asked and Makedon’s cock jumped at his tone.
He followed Laurent’s example and poured the oil directly onto Laurent’s hole. He watched it streak down his thighs and waited for most of it to settle before he poured again, this time using his thumb to push it into his hole.
Nikandros grabbed at the back of Laurent’s thigh, trying desperately to pull him closer to his cock, but all the action did was make Makedon’s thumb catch at Laurent’s hole, stretching him enough to make Laurent groan.
Makedon repeated the action without Nikandros’s help this time.
Nikandros abandoned Laurent’s neck to glare at him, “Get on with it,” he told him, as if he could order Makedon around like that. He could, technically, but Makedon shoved that thought to the back of his mind.
Instead he removed his thumb to lick at Laurent’s hole instead. He tasted oil instead of skin, and Laurent jerked at the scratch of his short beard.
“You will have to oil your beard as well,” Laurent told him, “If you want to do that.”
Makedon chose another course of action instead. He stretched Laurent until he could press the opening of the bottle inside him, and Laurent jerked again at the odd sensation of having oil flow directly into him.
“I think that’s enough,” Laurent slurred and pushed himself up so the bottle of oil slipped from his hole on it’s own, falling to the bed and spilling all over him and Nikandros in the process.
Makedon watched, entranced as Laurent lowered himself onto Nikandros’s cock with a soft moan. Nikandros’s tried to grab at Laurent’s hips, but the oil stopped him from getting a good grip. He resigned himself to paw at Laurent’s ass instead.
Laurent rode him lazily, unbothered by Nikandros’s frequent buckings.
“Your talents with riding is not just in horses,” Makedon observed with a pat to Laurent's shoulder and moved to lay next to Nikandros.
It was a great view from behind, but the front was even better.
Laurent looked at him, and over the squelching of the oil and the slap of their bodies said, “He is definitely bigger than Damen.”
Makedon wasn’t sure if Nikandros’s responding groan was in annoyance or pleasure.
Laurent stopped his bouncing to reach behind him for the spilled, near empty oil bottle. It fell out his hands not long after; Nikandros had finally gotten a good grip on Laurent and began thrusting into him with vigor.
The oil lay discarded and forgotten again as all thoughts and schemes vanished from Laurent, replaced by pleasure. Makedon would pick it up in his place, but his hands were already slick enough for Laurent’s cock.
But when he reached for him, he was pushed away with whines as an explanation. Instead, Laurent worked his hand over Makedon’s cock, and Makedon stroked a hand over Laurent’s smooth thigh, feeling the muscles clench and tremor under his skin.
When Laurent came, it was without any attention to his cock, and his hand involuntary squeezed around Makedon, almost to the point of pain.
It took Nikandros long enough to follow that Laurent had started to look a little out of it, eyes watered with tears and mouth parted with a constant stream of keening whines.
Makedon wrapped his own hand over top of Laurent’s, and thrusted up into that until Laurent rolled off of Nikandros and became a little more aware.
He watched Makedon’s hand on his with a mindless look and when Makedon stopped, he leaned over to take him in his mouth, with a delicateness Makedon suspected came from his tired state.
He reached up to at first stroke at his base and then massage at his balls, but it wasnt long before he abandoned both actions to instead lazily twirl at the hair just above his crotch.
Nikandros looked over and frowned at the display. He seemed to deem Laurent’s performance inadequate and took it upon himself to gather up Laurent’s hair and direct him into giving Makedon a proper blowjob.
Laurent’s eyes went wide for a moment, and his fingers pulled a little at Makedon’s sensitive hair, but then he relaxed back into his boneless state and let Nikandros push him down onto Makedon’s cock until his nose was buried in the curls he had been playing with. His eyes were watering again when he looked up at Makedon, and Makedon shoved away Nikandros so he could instead take control.
By the time Makedon had emptied down Laurent’s throat, Nikandros was asleep and snoring lightly.
Laurent wiped lazily at his mouth before he woke Nikandros and made him turn on his side so that Laurent could curl against his chest and his snoring would stop.
Makedon took a moment to appreciate the sight of both of them, silently reminiscing about himself at their age. He would’ve stayed awake long enough for a second round.
There was a small water basin, kept warm by the summer air, in his room that he used to wet a small cloth and clean off Laurent and Nikandros’s stomachs to the best of his ability. He thought about cleaning the mess between Laurent’s thighs as well, but decided to leave it.
He settled in behind Laurent and covered the three of them with a thin blanket.
When he woke the next morning, his bed partners are both asleep, but with the blanket tossed off of them.
They had also woken up, some time between last night and now and made another mess where Makedon had been so thoughtful to clean.