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“That would be improper,” Lorenz said, straight-faced, when Leonie asked if they should bring her strap-on. Leonie only laughed and kissed his cheek.
“So that’s a yes, then?” she confirmed. Lorenz nodded and tugged her so she was half-lying on his chest. She snuggled against him and, thoughtfully, added, “If you call me ‘Claude,’ I won’t hold it against you.”
“I am not going to do that.” Lorenz could have laughed at the suggestion, but Leonie found it entertaining when he played the put-upon noble. He sighed tragically instead. It was true that he’d, perhaps, just possibly, harbored a crush on the man when they were students, but he was hardly going to call his wife by another name. The notion was ridiculous.
“We’re gonna see him next week,” she said, as though he could have forgotten, “You never know, all your feelings might come rushing back.” She said this quite comfortably, as though she was speculating about the weather in Almyra, or what might be on the menu. “I’m good with it, I can share. You’re insatiable anyway.”
“You are terrible at sharing,” he reminded her. It was why their bed had twice as many blankets and three times as many pillows as one would consider standard. As to the rest of her statement… it wasn’t his fault his wife was irresistible.
“I can fake it long enough to make it through a two-week visit. Probably.” Lorenz did laugh at the doubt that crossed her face. He rolled them over and kissed her. Time slipped away from them after that.
They did, eventually, manage to pack and generally get themselves ready for their sojourn to distant Almyra. Their itinerary was strict, but fast travel in peacetime, across friendly territory, was no hardship. Leonie loved the Gloucester lands, felt very much at home in its mountains and forests, felt her heart was completed when she gazed at its rivers and plains—but there was something exciting about seeing other lands too. Lorenz, for his part, could hardly find it in himself to complain that his darling wife insisted on waking him for every sunrise when such happiness illuminated her expression. And so their journey across Fodlan’s Throat passed quickly.
Claude had contrived to become even more handsome in the intervening years. Lorenz did not require Leonie to nudge him with her elbow to prompt him to make that observation; it practically made itself. He’d filled out, the sun had darkened his skin, he’d kept the beard, and all in all he was every inch a king: charming, powerful, and self-assured. Lorenz’s younger self might have perished on the spot.
They arrived early in the evening, that first day, and Claude had been wise enough and merciful enough not to schedule the formal dinner until the next night. After a brief tour—by the King of Almyra himself—they were allowed to retreat to their chambers where a light supper was provided. They were, of course, tired from the road, and retired to bed early.
“Bet you’re glad I brought it now,” Leonie said. Lorenz rolled his eyes, not needing to ask what she might possibly mean.
“I’m always glad,” he said instead. She grinned at him. “...How tired are you?”
Thus, they spent their first night in the Almyran capital with Lorenz on his knees, muffling his cries against the bed as Leonie thrust into him. Lorenz’s besetting sin was pride; he felt he deserved the finest things in life, the highest-quality tea, and yet he loved to be here, on his knees before a commoner. His wife stretched him, filled him, and drove thoughts of rank and gentility from his head, thoughts of anything from his head until he was lost in sensation. Leonie’s cardinal virtue was diligence; it had made it possible for her to leave her village, to pay off her debts, to work alongside her friends to shape continental politics. And just now, she was bringing all her focus and industry to bear on her husband, with his eagerly spread knees and his arched back and need in his voice. She gripped his lovely hips and fucked him with hard, fast strokes. His voice twisted higher and hungrier as she thrust into him, relentless and unfaltering.
When they were both spent, they laid together in sleepy silence. They would have to wash and get themselves properly ready for bed, but for now, they let the moment stretch.
“Did you and Claude always flirt this much? I can’t remember,” Leonie asked. They were in a garden courtyard and were temporarily alone. Lorenz blushed lightly.
“I wasn’t flirting with Claude,” he said.
“Maybe, but he was flirting with you,” she said. She tangled their fingers together and kissed the back of his hand. “Flirting with you, in front of your wife. The balls on him. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”
“I can’t really tell,” Lorenz admitted. In the Academy, the distracting haze of his own feelings had made it impossible to tell if any particular action of Claude’s meant something. Even in the present, it was difficult for Lorenz to read him.
“Well then, take it from your wife: he was flirting with you, and you were flirting back, a little.” Lorenz twisted his hand in hers, tugged her closer. She went easily, and he settled his free hand on her back.
“I don’t mean to,” he said softly, watching her closely. She seemed genuinely unbothered as she leaned in for a kiss. “I don’t want anyone else.”
“You don’t want anyone the way you want me,” Leonie agreed, kissing his nose. She tilted her head back just slightly, the better to see him. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t want anyone else, at all, ever.” Her expression was open, the question there undemanding. Lorenz bowed his head, brought their faces together again.
“It is a purely hypothetical quandary, at any rate,” Lorenz said. Leonie shrugged. He sighed.
“Later, then,” she said when he opened his mouth and hesitated. She kissed the side of his face and played with a strand of his hair. He nodded and drew her close.
The quandary proved less than purely hypothetical some time later, when Leonie found herself kneeling behind Lorenz, his back to her front, stroking his cock as he opened his jaw to take as much of Claude’s length as he could. Claude groaned, hands pressed hard against the wall behind him to keep from grabbing.
“Y-you’re a natural,” he panted, eyes locked on the sight of Lorenz on his cock. The compliment made Lorenz shiver in her arms.
“Hey, it takes practice to get this good,” Leonie said, peeking around Lorenz. She sounded mildly offended. In response to the noise Lorenz made, she added, “Well it did, any skill takes work.” Claude laughed breathlessly.
“Good to know some people don’t change,” he managed. Lorenz did something with his tongue on the underside of Claude’s cock that made the king gasp, hips rocking forward. Lorenz made a high, hungry noise, but Leonie leaned up and forward enough to press Claude’s hips back against the wall.
“Careful, he’ll gag,” she said. Claude groaned and let his head fall back against the wall. Trapped between them, Lorenz attempted to indicate that he did not think Claude’s movements were a problem. She patted his head as she settled back behind him, then tugged his hair lightly for the noise it elicited. She stayed behind him, a warm presence, as Lorenz worked the other man’s cock. If Lorenz was in a position to comment, he might have observed that it was, in a way, easier to swallow down Claude’s cock than Leonie’s strap-on, which slightly longer. On on the other hand, he was extremely aware that this was more delicate than his wife’s toy, and caution made the familiar motions slightly strange. He rocked his hips urgently as Leonie wrapped her hand around his own shaft. “Mm, yeah?” She swiped her thumb through the precum beading the tip and lazily stroked the head. “Mm?” Lorenz made a pleading sound around Claude’s cock and spread his knees. Her free hand stroked feather-light across his sac. He shuddered in her arms, and she kissed his shoulder.
When Claude groaned, low and heartfelt, and warned them he was getting close, Leonie wrapped herself more tightly around her husband. “Should he come in your mouth?” she asked softly. As his mouth was occupied, he slapped lightly at her knee. “Okay, how about on your face?” Lorenz whined around Claude’s cock and gripped her leg. “Great. Claude, he wants you to come on his face. You can pull his hair, he won’t mind.”
“Skies above,” Claude swore, finally tangling his hands in Lorenz’s hair to do exactly that. He pulled Lorenz off him and spent on the other man’s face. Lorenz groaned, open-mouthed, and followed suit, spilling in his wife’s hand. She crooned nonsense into his ear as he shook, gathering him closer still. Claude knelt, slightly clumsily, and stared at them. “Lorenz, that was—wow.” Lorenz blushed—blushed! As though he hadn’t just been gagging on Claude’s cock—and turned his head to the side to rest more comfortably against Leonie. “Leonie—should I, uh, can I—”
“Oh, yeah,” she breathed. In short order, the King of Almyra was on the ground, one of Fodlan’s representatives sitting on his face. Diplomacy was much more fun than the histories made it out to be. Lorenz sat nearby, gazing with sleepy adoration at his wife.
Leonie’s riding skills, if Claude was in any position to judge, had not been weakened by years of peace. She was demanding as she rocked against him, commands and encouragement falling from her lips as though she was unaware that she was speaking. Claude paid it little mind and focused on what he was doing, lapping at her and tracing shapes across her clit. She was terrifically hot, and she’d clearly enjoyed watching Lorenz and Claude together. It didn’t take long before she was groaning, low in her throat, and coming on him. She rolled off and promptly tucked herself against her husband, who kissed her thoroughly. Claude, still lying on the floor, watched them dazedly.
Even knowing how long they’d been together, he was still surprised by how comfortable they seemed to be. Leonie had been—deliberately, determinedly—comfortable in all company since he’d met her. Lorenz had been stiff and strange back their school days, and even when their class had reunited he’d been carefully formal. To see him—to see both of them—like this, loose and at ease, was unexpected. There was an expression in Almyra that described how effortlessly some couples seemed to work together, and as he watched them he thought, Two hands make a pair, yeah.
They looked at him now, almost moving in synchrony as their heads turned. Leonie grinned. Lorenz smiled and tilted his head. Claude, still on his back, smiled too. He hoped the rest of their visit proved this interesting.
Leonie had chosen a dress for the day’s events, and tidying her appearance was mostly a matter of shaking her skirts to get out the wrinkles and smoothing her hair back into place. Making Claude and Lorenz look respectable again took more doing—Lorenz especially—but they did their best. They’d pass, as long as no one stopped them or looked too closely. The diplomats from Fodlan and the King of Almyra returned to their respective chambers to prepare for the afternoon’s activities.
“How do you—” Leonie began.
“Like this,” Lorenz panted. He was already lying on his back, knees splayed out, hole on display. Leonie dragged teasing fingers down the length of his cock, brushed lightly over his sac, and traced his waiting hole. She paused, eyes on his face. He nodded readily.
“Where—” Before she could finish the question, Lorenz dug in the pillows around his head and produced a small bottle. Leonie accepted it and spread its contents on her fingers. Lorenz buried his fingers in the pillow in eager anticipation. Leonie took her time, spreading the slick liquid all around his entrance—drawing out the moment, teasing him until he was making impatient noises—so he was nearly dripping by the time she pressed her first finger into him. His body accepted her easily, and he let his head fall back on the pillows and breathed heavily as he reminded himself to stay quiet. He did fairly well until, at last, she deemed him sufficiently prepared and withdrew her fingers. Kneeling between his legs, she lined up her cock and pressed in slowly. He groaned, heartfelt and too loud.
He loved the feeling of her cock pressing into him, opening him up. He liked it in almost every position, but like this—on his back, Leonie bent over him, her hands keeping his legs spread and pressing his knees towards his chest, their faces a handspan apart—he was melting with it. Her expression was serious and intent, care and concentration written into every line. Lorenz whined, a request, and her attention shifted, eyes finding his. She smiled, and he smiled—each involuntary and each sincere.
He groaned in anticipation as she adjusted her balance, and he bit his lip as she settled in to fuck him hard. She clumsily kissed his cheek, and he turned his head so she would clumsily kiss his mouth. She did so, and he felt terrifically spoiled. And, as she’d joked about back in Gloucester, he found his imagination drifting. He was still not going to call his wife by some other man’s name, but the thought of that other man present and watching while he was being debauched… Lorenz moaned and was shushed. To be watched by those beguilingly green eyes, to be seen when he was this undone…
Lorenz’s eyes fluttered open and found Leonie’s almost instantly. Her gaze was warm and intent, drinking in his pleasure and reflecting it back. She smiled as he looked at her, then kissed him again. She could see how dazed he was, could guess at why, but never pretended to know precisely what was going on in her husband’s head. She tucked away each of his reactions and paid close attention to what made him gasp and shudder. Ah, he wanted it hard tonight.
Leonie leaned back, bracing herself with clumsy care, and fucked him with hard, fast strokes. Lorenz arched under her, moaning hungrily, and spread his knees in needy display. They were long past the point in their relationship when what they were doing was enough to make Lorenz blush, but he was blushing tonight. She lost herself in watching the color spread across his skin as she thrust into him.
When Lorenz began tossing his head from side to side, neck bared, voice twisting high and urgent, she tangled their fingers together. Lorenz gripped her hand tightly, subsiding slightly at the additional contact. He was still making high, hungry noises in the back of his throat as she kissed his jaw, but fell into breathless silence as orgasm took him. He murmured his approval as Leonie continued to thrust into him, wrapping his arms around her and attempting to tug her closer when she finally gasped, shaking, over him.
They lay together, catching their breath, and before long Leonie leaned up on one arm and began playing with a strand of Lorenz’s hair. Lorenz blinked heavy eyelids open and regarded her.
“Something on your mind?” she said. He smiled, slow and unhurried. She blinked with transparent innocence. “Hm?”
“You never give up, do you, my dear?” he asked. She grinned and shrugged.
“Well?” He caught her hand and kissed the back of it, then her knuckles, then the backs of her fingers. Under her light, warm gaze, he took a breath and dared to speak.
Their visit to Almyra was a carefully-orchestrated one. The relationship between the regions had warmed dramatically in the intervening years, but there was still a remembered tension. Nevertheless, it was widely known that King Khalid Claude the Unifier and Twice-Crowned desired still-closer relations between Fodlan and Almyra, so it was the duty and pleasure of the Sun Palace staff to show the visiting dignitaries the best of what Almyra had to offer. When they were not engaged in negotiations (real work, Leonie called it, and Lorenz only sighed) they visited the theater, the universities, halls of art and exquisitely maintained gardens. They dined on the finest of delicacies, and the King himself made time to meet with them—his old friends, his onetime generals—and converse with them, sometimes long into the night. By any measure, the diplomatic visit was going well.
“Have you done this before?” Leonie asked. Claude, knees braced on the bed, chest supported by pillows, shook his head. I never had the chance, there was never time, it was never the right person. Hilda might have done it, when they were doing their casual thing, but it almost certainly would have counted as work. “Okay,” Leonie said easily, patting his thigh with the same careless affection she’d probably use on a horse or a hound. The jumble of explanation faded from the back of Claude’s throat, unneeded. He breathed in, out. “If you want me to stop or slow down, say something. I’m not a mind reader here.” Lorenz, sitting next to Claude’s head, ran a careful hand through his hair. Claude let himself relax another fraction.
“You must tell her if you experience any discomfort,” Lorenz added. “It may be—strange, but it shouldn’t be painful.” Claude smiled crookedly at his former classmate, who was pink-cheeked but nowhere near as embarrassed as might have been expected once upon a time. Lorenz gave him a crooked smile in return.
It was, as Lorenz had said, strange, but—skies above, it felt good. Claude may not have done this with another person—much less two—before, but he’d tried it by himself. That had been good, but this was better. Without the distraction of what his own fingers were doing, it was much more overwhelming. Claude breathed carefully and tangled his fingers in the bedclothes to keep it from being too much.
“Claude,” Lorenz said softly, and he combed his fingers through Claude’s hair again. Claude bit his lip. Lorenz’s hand cupped his cheek and tilted his face gently. “Are you well?”
“’S good,” Claude said, then cleared his throat and corrected, “It’s good.” Lorenz’s thumb brushed gently across his cheekbone.
By the time Leonie deemed him ready for more than her fingers, it was a struggle to hold onto himself. He couldn’t stop himself from panting, and he couldn’t quite control the way his hips twitched when his control slipped, but he had at least managed not to give voice to any of the embarrassing noises that wanted to make themselves heard. This changed when the blunt head of Leonie’s toy pressed against his entrance. His sharp intake of breath was quiet enough, but as his breath escaped, a thin noise pushed itself from his throat. Claude his hand over his mouth and let his face fall against the bed.
“Claude? Lorenz?” Leonie asked, stopping. Claude wanted to whine again when she stopped moving, but he pressed his hand more firmly over his mouth and kept silent. It was Lorenz who answered.
“I think he is okay,” he said. He combed his fingers through Claude’s hair again—Claude suppressed another sound—and asked, “Claude?”
“Keep going,” Claude managed after a moment.
“It doesn’t hurt?” Leonie asked, voice tense for the first time since she and Lorenz had arrived in Almyra. Claude shook his head. “Okay.”
It was hard to stay quiet as Leonie fucked him. The toy she’d selected was small, but it was still larger than anything Claude had taken before. And—the sensation of having his ass in the air, and having his hips rocked forward as she pressed into him—it was not totally surprising a few noises managed to escape him, broken-off groans and hungry half-sounds.
Claude forced his eyes open—and when had he let them close?—and observed that Lorenz was certainly enjoying the proceedings. The head of his cock was shiny with precum as he stroked himself.
“L-let me,” Claude managed, reaching clumsily for the other man’s cock. Lorenz made a breathless noise.
“You don’t have to,” he said, but he made no attempt to stop Claude from wrapping graceless fingers around his shaft. His cock was hot, and having it in his hand sent a thrill through Claude. Leonie made a sound of lazy interest, rubbing one hand in warm circles on his hip.
Claude had only rarely done this before, and having his ass fucked was certainly adding an extra layer of difficulty, not to mention the angle, but he parted his lips and took the head of Lorenz’s cock into his mouth. The sound Lorenz made was heartfelt and not controlled in the least, and it went straight to Claude’s… head.
Lorenz shifted so he was in front of Claude, Leonie behind. He was almost trembling as Claude took more of him into his mouth. One of his hands found Claude’s hair again, not pulling, just threading his fingers through and keeping them there.
Lorenz’s gasped repetitions of Claude, Claude—oh, did nothing to calm him. In fact, between Leonie’s careful thrusts and the fullness of Lorenz’s cock in his mouth, Claude felt that he was on the verge of drowning. He—he was the King of Almyra, the onetime Alliance Leader besides, he needed to keep his wits about him, to hold onto himself. It was hard though, and—
Leonie’s hand was warm as she stroked warmly down his back and sides, and Lorenz’s fingers were gentle on his scalp. Lorenz, in spite of his fixation on nobility and etiquette, had always had a startlingly earnest core, and Leonie was perhaps the least duplicitous person Claude had ever met. They’d fought a war together, shaped the future together, and… And there hadn’t been any political aftermath from their earlier tryst, and maybe Claude could afford to trust his friends one more time.
“That’s great, great job,” Leonie murmured as Claude, shaking a little, let his hips rock back the way they wanted to. The cock in his mouth muffled him as a small sound escaped his throat at the way her toy pressed that little bit deeper, stroked inside him just so. She smoothed a hand down his side, kept thrusting into him with careful attention. Skies above, it felt good. He opened his mouth wider, tugged lightly at Lorenz’s hips. When Lorenz’s vocalizations took on a questioning note, Claude forced his eyes open, staring up at the other man.
“Okay, Lor?” Leonie asked. Lorenz whined a non-answer, not taking his eyes off Claude. “Claude, want something?” Claude tugged at Lorenz’s hips again. Leonie seemed to get it, if her, “Oh,” was anything to go by. “Claude, is it okay if Lorenz moves his hips?” Claude made a noise in response—if it was hungry verging on pleading, well, that was his business—and Leonie made a sound in her throat somewhere between satisfaction and surprise. “You heard him, go on, Lor. Slowly.”
She probably didn’t need to add that last part. Lorenz’s fingers were utterly gentle in Claude’s hair, and he wasn’t sure if he was trembling or Lorenz was. Lorenz’s eyes were hot and dark and, and—he wasn’t looking at Claude like a means to an end or a thing to be won or a problem to be solved, or any of the other ways Claude was used to being looked at. He looked at Claude like he was—a work of art, something to be treasured, admired, but not used up or traded away. Lorenz’s other hand floated to cup the side of Claude’s face, and he was cradling Claude’s head as he moved his hips, tentatively, testing. Claude groaned, let his eyes shut. This—this he knew what to do with.
Leonie was still talking—she’d been talking almost continuously since they’d started, actually, and had been fairly chatty the last time they’d, ahem, been together like this. Maybe that was the secret, Leonie did all the talking and Lorenz nodded or shook his head. It was working for Claude so far.
It was hard to relax, even having decided to do just that. Self-preservation was about as ancient an instinct as existed, and manipulation was more versatile than any poison. Claude fluttered his tongue on the underside of the cock in his mouth, steeling himself to try to take more of it—even though he didn’t like that, had been choked too often in too many ways to appreciate it—when Lorenz threaded a hand through his hair and guided him off. Claude stared at him, disoriented.
“Is it good, Claude? Is it still good?” Leonie wanted to know, and Lorenz’s lips moved in a silent echo. She was seated deep inside of him, and it was good, the stretch and the fullness, and his lips felt sensitive and almost swollen, he felt—powerful and used and attended to and, and—
“Yeah,” he managed, “It’s fine.” He wasn’t expecting Lorenz’s dazed, hungry expression to sharpen, brows drawing together and mouth pursing slightly. The hand that had been on top of his head was suddenly cupping his jaw. Leonie’s hands moved too, one sliding higher up his side and the other warming the center of his back.
“I didn’t ask if it was fine, I asked if it was good,” she said. Her tone was—gentle. It came into focus then, that Lorenz and Leonie knew what he was like, had known him when he’d been keeping a thousand and one secrets, had seen him as he was now—still wrapped in his schemes and contingencies—and had still bedded him not once but twice. If he wasn’t ready to let all his defenses fall, maybe he didn’t have to.
“It’s good,” Claude said, and—because he did still want to be less guarded, at least for this—added, “If you could—Lorenz could hold still after all—”
“Of course,” Lorenz said at once, and Leonie was echoing him, and there was no censure in either of their voices or disappointment on Lorenz’s face. In fact, he looked oddly happy, almost relieved or—
“Thank you,” Leonie said and patted his side. “Like I said, not a mind reader.”
“Thank you,” Lorenz echoed, and—that was enough feelings for now. Claude kissed the sharp ridge of Lorenz’s pelvis, then kissed closer and closer until he was mouthing the base of the other man’s cock. While he was doing that, Leonie began to move again, slowly at first, and Claude let himself sigh with satisfaction. It did feel good. Lorenz shivered under Claude’s touch but otherwise held still, and Leonie was in constant motion, and he let himself… not get lost, exactly, but drift.
It was easier to feel everything when he wasn’t working as hard to keep himself together. When he canted his hips just so, and Leonie’s toy pressed against him there, he had to pull off Lorenz or choke. She did it again, and he groaned aloud, then kept groaning as she did it over and over. She was still talking, although Claude did not know what she was saying, and Lorenz’s fingers were still gentle in his hair. As Leonie fucked Claude harder, Lorenz sat and allowed himself to be pulled closer to Claude. Later, when Claude was thinking clearly again, he would realize that it was probably uncomfortable for Lorenz to be angled like that, half-under Claude and half in front of him, but—his skin was so warm, all of him was warm, and Claude tried to bury his face against the other man’s chest as pleasure wound tighter and tighter.
It was a relief to come, to release—
Claude was still making noises against Lorenz’s skin as the last shocks worked their way through his system, and Lorenz’s fingers were exquisitely gentle in his hair. He gasped softly as Leonie pulled out of him—overtired body objecting, faintly, to even the semblance of more pleasure—and almost melted when she settled on top of him, pressing him closer to Lorenz. His mind tried to drift, but—caught on something.
“Y-Neither of you…?” he tried to ask, tongue unaccustomedly clumsy. It was hard to keep his eyes open. Two hands, he didn’t know whose, settled on him. One cupped the side of his face and the other stroked up his side.
“I am more than satisfied,” Lorenz said.
“Same,” Leonie agreed. The hand cupping the side of his face combed loosely through his hair. There was yet another hand rubbing circles on the ball of his shoulder.
“But…”
“Not everyone has to come every time,” Leonie said, sounding unfairly awake.
“But…” Claude tried again.
“Claude, go to sleep.” He was still attempting to argue the point when sleep claimed him, mid-objection.
He couldn’t have slept for very long—for a lot of reasons, not the least of which being that the moon hadn’t moved in the sky while he was asleep—but he nevertheless awoke to find himself surprisingly not covered in lube and jizz. That was an unexpected kindness. Another piece of evidence that Claude had only napped briefly: Lorenz was still hard. Or, well, Claude assumed he was still hard, being as how Leonie was in his lap, moving in a very specific way. He watched with purely aesthetic appreciation—sleepy appreciation, at that—as his friends screwed like rabbits next to him.
They were kissing, too, hot and hungry. When they broke their kiss, faces only inches apart, Leonie was speaking again. Her voice was low and intent, pitched only for Lorenz, but Claude thought he recognized the cadence, a fervent litany of devotion. Lorenz kissed her neck, the point of her jaw, voice strained, and… was that poetry? Huh. Claude would have expected that any person, Lorenz especially, reciting poetry mid-coitus would be purely comedic in effect, but… It wasn’t really about the words, was it, it was about the tone, the meaning, the way they moved together and looked at each other. Lorenz murmured something into Leonie’s ear and followed it with a nip to her jaw, which made her grin, all teeth and wildness.
He had the pleasure of watching her come, marked by trembling pause in her motion and a stuttered ah—ah— as her eyes slipped shut. Then they opened and focused on Lorenz, who had stopped his recitation, practically whining as he looked up at her. Her eyes went half-lidded and her smile grew sharper still, almost predatory, and she began to move again. She bent her neck and hissed something into his ear. Lorenz, too, resumed both motion and recitation. Claude couldn’t make any of it out, but he didn’t try very hard, choosing to focus instead on the way his friends were moving together. This repeated itself, with emphasis, and then Lorenz was pleading, please, please, and Leonie said yes.
Claude’s dick was trying to get hard again, which frankly it had no business doing. His friends relaxed against each other, Leonie slumping against her husband and Lorenz curling around his wife. It wasn’t that Claude had never seen her be soft and vulnerable, but it was rare, and not like this. Something in his chest tried to ache as he watched Lorenz cup the back of her head and rest his cheek against her hair.
That was dangerous. Affairs were dangerous, foreign affairs (ha) were dangerous, sex was dangerous, and—entanglement was dangerous. Claude was a king, had survived a war, but that didn’t mean he went out of his way to… When Claude took risks, it was for a reason, for a commensurate reward, not for nothing.
He was trying to work out the best way to grab his clothes and make his escape when Leonie and Lorenz looked at him, moving in unison again. Leonie smiled, and Lorenz ducked his head slightly, half-tucking his face against her shoulder, but kept his eyes on Claude.
“Good?” she asked as she held out a hand to him. Lorenz was smiling too, he could see now. Claude didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. He glanced from Leonie’s outstretched hand to their faces, and—laid his broad palm on her smaller one. It was covered by a long-fingered, elegant hand. He started to move, but—“No, no, don’t get up.” With a certain amount of face-making and some heatless grumbling, Leonie and Lorenz disentangled themselves and laid next to Claude again. “Claude, you be the middle,” Leonie directed, which was—bossy, okay, not surprising. Claude obliged her.
“Not you? You’re the shortest,” he joked.
“I have the next time,” she said promptly. “Lorenz has to wait until the one after that.”
“As I’ve said, I’m fine,” Lorenz began.
“Tall people should get to be small too,” Leonie said, which didn’t make a lot of sense, but Claude was too busy listening to the words next time to debate it. That… she sounded so matter-of-fact, like whatever this was could be—something. Comfortable, welcome, relied upon. It probably couldn’t—nothing was that simple, even Leonie had to know that—but… they still had the rest of the visit to enjoy themselves, and maybe negotiate with the future. Claude let himself rest, buoyed on either side by his friends’ warmth, for just a moment more.