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An evening of drunken revelry turned into night, and eventually the festivities inside the Baratheon tent at the tourney calmed down. Most of the guests had either moved onto their own tents or had fallen asleep in their chairs. A few still danced merrily, albeit unsteadily, in the middle of the tent.
Lyonel and Dunk however, had retreated back to the long table at which Lyonel’s had throned through much of the night. The stag-horned crown had moved from Lyonel’s head to Dunk’s at some point during the dancing, drinking and eating, and that’s where it still sat.
“My life is terribly sad,” Lyonel complained. He was sitting in his throne-like chair, waving around a cup of wine. “Did you know that, Dunk?”
Dunk shook his head in response. “No, ser.” He swept his gaze over the fine linens of the tent, of the tables still full of food, and furrowed his brow before looking back at Lyonel.
“I have no companion to share my bed!” Lyonel heaved a dramatic sigh. “This tourney is a veritable drought!”
Dunk stared down into his own cup for a moment, trying to focus on the red liquid swirling inside. “But ser… the ladies you keep?” He looked up at Lyonel again, the man out of focus for a moment. “I’m sure they would be willing to share your bed?”
Lyonel scoffed in the same way he might have done if Dunk had suggested something preposterous, which only added to Dunk’s confusion.
“No, no, no, I don’t mean them.” Lyonel shook his head and leaned in closer to Dunk, who automatically did the same. When Lyonel kept talking, he had lowered his voice to a dramatic stage whisper which did absolutely nothing to conceal the actual volume of what he was saying. “I mean other kind of company.”
Dunk nodded slowly, furrowing his brow even further. “I see.” He had no idea what Lyonel was talking about.
Lyonel just stared at Dunk in silence for a long moment, looking at him expectantly. Dunk held his gaze without saying anything. Eventually, Lyonel cleared his throat. “I mean the company of another man.”
The sudden confession caught Dunk off guard, and he couldn’t help the blush that started to creep up his cheeks. “Oh. I see.”
Lyonel leaned back in his chair, holding Dunk’s gaze as he dragged the tip of his finger around the rim of the cup. “There is just something special about the company of another man, wouldn’t you agree?” He lifted the cup to his lips and drank deeply as he waited for Dunk’s response.
Dunk mirrored the movement, taking a drink before answering, keeping his voice neutral. “If you say so, ser.”
That response seemed to take Lyonel off guard, since he just blinked rapidly a few times at Dunk. He lowered the cup back down, resting the bottom of it against his knee. “Let me put it like this - have you ever lain with another man?”
Dunk’s eyes widened in surprise at the question. “Oh, uh, I…” Heat rose even further in his cheeks, and he deeply hoped that he wasn’t as red in the face as he suspected.
There was a intense look in Lyonel’s eyes, a fire burning in there that Dunk had been drawn closer and closer to all throughout the night. Like a moth to a flame. “Would you like to?”
Realisation of what Lyonel had been hinting at throughout the whole conversation hit Dunk at once, and half of him hoped that the ground would open up and swallow him whole so he could escape this mortifying situation. The other half of him wanted to do nothing but to scream ‘yes!’. He settled for the middle ground of nodding silently.
Lyonel grinned widely at that and leaned back in close. He clasped Dunk’s thigh and squeezed, his grin sharpening at the feeling of the thick muscle. “Splendid indeed.”
/
Lyonel’s bedroom was an adjoining part of the tent, and in Dunk’s eyes it was just as impressive as the rest of it. A veritable mansion compared to other accommodations he had seen at the tourney, and most definitely a castle compared to his own sleeping arrangements. Lyonel even had an actual bed, with bed frame and all, and Dunk briefly wondered who had carried the heavy piece of furniture all the way out here to the Ashford Tourney grounds.
Lyonel made a large, sweeping gesture with his arm, indicating to the whole room. “Please, sit down. Make yourself comfortable.”
There were, technically, plenty of seating space in here, but the chairs were currently covered with pieces of clothing and armor. The one space available was the aforementioned bed, which Dunk made his way to and somewhat clumsily sat down.
Lyonel downed the last of his drink before throwing it over his shoulder, the cup clattering off into a corner somewhere. Then, he simply climbed into Dunk’s lap, straddling him and putting his hands on either side of his neck.
“Been wanting to do this all night,” Lyonel said before biting down on his lower lip, giving Dunk a look that one might call downright coquettish.
“All night, ser?” Dunk still had his own cup in hand, and was holding it out awkwardly to the side so it wouldn’t spill.
Lyonel nodded and leaned in to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the side of Dunk’s neck, sending shivers throughout his body. “Mmm. Ever since you entered my tent.”
Dunk subconsciously tilted his head to the side to give Lyonel better access. “You were watching me the whole time?” He sounded both self conscious and flattered by asking the question, causing Lyonel to chuckle into his skin.
“The most massive man I have laid eyes on in a very long time enters my tent.” He pulled back from pressing kisses to Dunk’s neck to look him in the eye instead. Dunk couldn’t help but getting distracted by how his lips shone slick with saliva when he reached out to pluck the cup from Dunk’s hand. “I’d say that is worthy of my attention.”
Dunk watched as Lyonel threw his head back to drink down the last of Dunk’s wine before throwing that cup off to the side as well.
Dunk cleared his throat nervously. “I did not realise, ser-”
He was interrupted by Lyonel licking into his mouth, kissing him in a downright filthy way. He was frozen for a moment as his brain caught up, but once it did, his limbs were flooded with hot lust. He started kissing back as well as he could, uncoordinated both thanks to inexperience and alcohol. Lyonel didn't seem to mind - on the contrary, he made a high pitched, satisfied sound in response. Emboldened, Dunk wrapped an arm around Lyonel’s middle and pulled him in closer, flattening the smaller man against his broad chest.
They kept kissing until Lyonel pressed one hand between their bodies and managed to shove it inside Dunk’s pants, wrapping his fingers around his cock. Dunk gasped into the kiss at the contact, and Lyonel gave a breathy laugh as he squeezed.
“Oh, you truly are big all over!” He licked his lips in a way that made Dunk feel like he was on fire in the best of ways.
“I… uh… thank you, ser..?” he managed to say before Lyonel kissed him hungrily again.
“By the Seven, I cannot wait to have this… this weapon inside of me,” Lyonel mumbled in between kisses, pulling the cock out of the confines of Dunk’s pants and pumping his hand over it. He sunk his teeth into Dunk's bottom lip before pulling away.
Dunk chased Lyonel’s mouth by leaning forward, but was stopped by a finger pressed against his lips.
He managed an elegant “Whuh?”, and Lyonel just grinned at him with mischief twinkling in his eyes.
“Get naked.” With that, he let go of Dunk’s cock and climbed off his lap, moving to stand. He swayed dangerously with the sudden movement, and reached out to hold on to the back of a nearby chair to keep his balance. When Dunk didn’t immediately react, he made an impatient sound. “Now.”
The second command got Dunk moving. He stood, the floor beneath him swirling just a bit. He pulled his shirt over his head and was greeted by the sight of Lyonel’s hungry gaze. The man’s eyes roamed over Dunk’s chest, and he licked his lips in the same way one might when looking at a particularly juicy piece of meat.
Dunk found himself liking that. “Am I to your liking, ser?” He dropped his shirt on the floor before reaching down to untie the knot at the front of his pants.
Lyonel grinned at him again. “Do not worry about that.” He let go of the chair and started working at his own belt. Before long, they were both fully naked, and Lyonel put his hands in the middle of Dunk’s chest before pushing him back towards the bed. Dunk allowed himself to be moved, and he lay down on his back. He just had the time to think about how impossibly soft the bedding felt against the skin before Lyonel climbed in after him, and moved to straddle him again.
“Get me the oil,” he said as he got comfortable in Dunk’s lap.
“The oil?” Dunk repeated, saying the words in the same way one might say words in a foreign language that you had never heard before.
Lyonel reached down to wrap his fingers around Dunk’s chin and used the hold to move his head back and up. Then, he used his free hand to point towards a spot somewhere behind Dunk’s head. “Yes. The oil.”
Dunk angled his head to follow Lyonel’s pointing, and his gaze landed on a small shelf he hadn’t noticed before, right next to the bed. A vial stood atop it, the dark glass just a light enough hue for Dunk to be able that it was half full with some kind of liquid.
“The oil,” he repeated, his voice filled with realisation. He reached to grab it, taking it off the shelf and handing over to Lyonel, who accepted it and used his teeth to pull the cork out of the top. There was something about the way he did it that made lust surge through Dunk’s body, causing his cock to twitch.
Lyonel’s focus was fully on what he was doing, and Dunk watched enraputed how the man poured some of the thick, viscous liquid onto his fingers before reaching behind himself. A jolt of pleasure shocked Dunk’s system at the moan that tumbled from Lyonel’s lips, and Dunk realised that he was using his fingers to prepare himself. Dunk didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he fisted the bedsheets beneath him.
Lyonel’s eyes fluttered closed as he worked his fingers into himself, pumping them in and out of himself a few times before seeming to run out of patience. He pulled his fingers back out and poured some more oil into his palm before wrapping his fist around Dunk’s cock. Dunk inhaled sharply at the contact, and Lyonel grinned as he pumped his hand over it a few times, slicking it up.
“There we go…” Lyonel muttered as he rose up onto his knees. When he finally started to sink down on Dunk’s cock, Dunk’s breath was punched out of his lungs. Lyonel was impossibly hot and tight around him, even with the oil making the slide slick and easy.
“By the Seven…” Lyonel threw his head back and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Lyonel kept sinking down onto Dunk’s cock was buried fully inside of his ass, and Dunk’s hands flew to grasp at Lyonel’s hips. He held on for dear life, his nails creating crescent indentations in Lyonel’s skin.
“Oh, that hits the spot just right…” Lyonel said as he moved his hips in a gyrating little circle. His own cock stood hard and proud between his legs, despite being fully untouched up to this point.
“Ser…” Dunk gritted out from behind closed teeth.
Lyonel braced his hands against Dunk’s chest and rose up onto his knees again, continuing until Dunk’s cock was still halfway buried inside of him. Then, he dropped back down, impaling himself fully once again. He threw his head back and moaned loudly, unabashedly, and if Dunk hadn’t been so fully wrapped up in how good it felt, he would’ve been mortified by the prospect of someone hearing.
Lyonel rose up and dropped down again, and then again, and again, fucking himself on Dunk’s cock. Dunk did his best to keep up, but the pleasure and alcohol mixed into a perfectly sweet concoction in his veins, already pushing him dangerously close to finishing. He was just about to open his mouth to warn Lyonel when he suddenly stopped moving. His chest was heaving with labored breaths, and his curls were stuck to his sweat-slicked forehead.
“I’m tired,” Lyonel announced breathlessly, and without fanfare. He started climbing off Dunk, who shivered when his cock was suddenly exposed to the air again. Lyonel all but crashed down on the bed, lying down next to Dunk. “Time for you to put in the work.” Lyonel lifted his ass off the bed, wiggling his hips in a way that was supposed to be enticing. “Now you fuck me.”
Dunk, who had started thinking that their encounter might be over, felt a rush of relief. He got onto his knees and moved into position right behind Lyonel, who drew in his legs under him to present his ass. Dunk reached for the vial, forgotten in the bedding, and poured out a generous amount into his palm before discarding the now empty container off to the side. He wrapped his fist around his cock and slicked himself up further with a few pumps before placing his free hand on Lyonel’s hip. He fisted the base of his cock with his other hand and lined himself back up with the man’s hole. He flexed his hips forwards and he slid back inside easily, heat curling low in his stomach at the sight of Lyonel stretching around his cock.
“Oh fuck yes…” Lyonel gave another one of those unabashed moans as Dunk slid back inside. He grabbed at the sheets, burying the side of his face into a pillow. “By the gods, I needed this.”
Dunk started pulling back out before sliding back in, and they both moaned in unison. The angle was slightly awkward, however, and Dunk put both his hands on Lyonel’s hips before using the hold to haul him up and back. Lyonel made a high-pitched, excited, almost giddy sound as he slid across the bed. “Oh! You brute!”
Dunk pulled back and thrusted forward yet again, and the new angle was indeed much better. He moved one hand to grip the top of the bed frame and planted his other fist in the mattress, right next to Lyonel’s head. He started fucking into the man below him in earnest, the leverage allowing him to put his weight behind the thrusts.
A stream of moans and expletives poured from Lyonel’s mouth as he was fucked into the bedding, the tent filled by the sound of skin on skin. Dunk joined in with his own silent grunts, feeling like some sort of creature possessed as he drove into Lyonel’s ass over and over. Sweat poured from his brow and down his nose, little droplets landing on Lyonel’s back. His climax was rapidly approaching, and when he realised that Lyonel had managed to squeeze a hand under him and was frantically stroking his own cock, Dunk was suddenly pushed dangerously close to the edge.
“Ser,” he managed to grunt. “Ser, where do I..?”
A hand suddenly clasped the back of his thigh, and he realised that Lyonel had reached behind them to claw at him, to keep him in place.
“Don’t you dare pull out, hedge knight.” There was a sudden steely, dangerous edge to Lyonel’s words, despite them being panted between heaving breaths. “Finish inside of me or not at all. Understood?”
He nodded, wide eyed. “Yes, ser.”
“Good - ah! - man.”
Only a few more thrusts, and Dunk couldn’t hold back anymore. He came with a low growl, curling forwards to press his forehead into the space between Lyonel’s shoulder blades. Pleasure washed over him in waves as he emptied himself inside of the other man’s ass.
Lyonel came with a sound most aptly described as a screech, painting the sheets below them with his spend. Once his climax had fully passed, he collapsed on the bed. Dunk pulled out and sat back on his haunches, not quite knowing what to do. Fucking lords wasn’t exactly something he did on a nightly basis. He cleared his throat before speaking, breathing still labored.
“I suppose I should go, ser..?”
Lyonel turned around slightly to look up at him from over his shoulder, one eyebrow rising up his forehead. “Do you have somewhere else to be?”
Dunk shook his head. “Not really no. I sleep underneath a tree.”
Lyonel laughed at that, a loud thing that showed that he was truly entertained by that information. Then, he patted the empty spot next to him in bed. “Well, don’t just sit there with your dick in your hand. Stay the night, have a bath in the morning, and then you can be on your way.”
Dunk did as told and lay down next to Lyonel, who almost immediately started snoring lightly. Dunk was left staring up into the tent ceiling for a long time, struggling to fall asleep. This night had ended in a way that he never had expected. He looked to the side, at the back of Lyonel’s head, before he closed his eyes.
Tomorrow, he would continue to look for someone who would vouch for him so he could enter the lists.
Before long, sleep had pulled him under.