Archive of Our Own

The Street Rat was, annoyingly, really, really hot. Todd was at least honest enough with himself to admit that. He was one of the first of them to hit puberty; he was one of the first to fill out, muscles broadening his shoulders and chest. He was one of the first to grow hair on his chest and face, the first to start needing deodorant. Even poking fun at his new odor didn't make Todd feel any better; it didn't change the fact that the commoner was getting all good-looking and shit. Maybe his handsome face and washboard abs and dark treasure trail had begun popping up unwanted whenever Todd needed to rub one out lately. You know. Just on occasion.

Goldy was getting pretty hot, too. That was less irritating; that whole family was pretty good-looking. Everyone in the kingdom knew it. Maybe his annoyingly white smile and kind, dark eyes and that stupid, stupid dyed blond undercut popped up into Todd's spank bank from time to time, too.

Not that what he felt towards them mattered. They were together; everyone and their grandma knew it. It had been great fun, pretending to gag whenever the two of them made gross goo-goo eyes at each other. 

By comparison, the Street Rat was quickly shaping up to be the most masculine, macho, manly...man Todd had ever seen. He saw that angle get played up in all his commercials, featuring him in snug tank tops, tight t-shirts, or even no shirt at all. The implication was always 'Buy this brand of deodorant or this men's razor or this new flavor of Starry Knight Soda Pop, and you'll be as manly as this guy.' Not that that changed the fact that he was an even bigger nerd than Goldy, way ahead of all of them in their classes. 

Which included the physical ones. He got paired up with Goldy more often than not. Seven out of ten times, he'd win. The image of Ballister holding out a callused hand to Ambrosius had cemented itself in Todd's mind. It wasn't hard, since he'd seen it so many times. That carried over into his spank bank material, too; as he beat off, he'd imagine Ambrosius getting whacked around and knocked over, just like he did in practice, his pretty pale skin getting reddish and bruised. That would all happen just before Ballister would fuck that tight little ass of his with the enormous cock he sported between his legs. (Todd had caught a peek at it before. It was sort of an inevitability; all the knights-in-training had seen each other in various states of undress while growing up) All while tugging on those obviously fake blonde locks Goldie put so much pride in.

Honestly, it was kind of ridiculous, the amount of sperm Todd had wasted to that particular fantasy.

A monkey wrench got thrown in the works of Todd's mind one day, though. Ballister had beaten him in sparring today. Again. The jeering he and Mansley had given him after hadn't even seemed to affect him; he'd seamlessly moved onto the next partner, who just happened to Goldy. Who he beat. Again. 

Even the date he had later on with Rosie Palms couldn't cheer him up afterwards. He was so busy brooding that he didn't even realize he'd left his phone in his locker until after he'd left in his civvies.

"Aw, Gloreth's Tits," he grumbled as he swerved and trekked back to the locker room. 

He reached for the handle of his locker, but then froze in place. The locker room had seemed empty, but then again, he'd barged in without really looking around. Training had let out; the evening drills wouldn't start for another hour and a half. No one else should have been in here. 

But then again... Todd knew that those sounds of heavy breathing weren't coming from him. Also there was more than one person making noise; he'd come here alone.

The words--which he'd planned on being "What the Hell?" or "Who the Hell...?"--died on his tongue as he looked around the row of lockers at the source of the sounds. 

Speak of Gloreth's monster, there was Goldy. Todd would have recognized that dyed hair anywhere. He was naked as the day he was born; Todd could make out the lithe muscle along his back and tight, taut little ass. They moved, graceful and elegant (the asshole had been training even longer than he had; he never bragged about it with words, but Todd couldn't help feeling like he took frequent opportunities to flaunt it), moving like the waves on water as those hips worked. 

And they were working against someone else. Goldy was spooned up against the broad back of the equally naked body of someone else; someone shorter but broader, with olive skin marred by black hair and the occasional scar. 

Todd had always imagined where those scars had come from. All knights-in-training tended to get similar ones, but none of them had that many. There was only one person it could be...

"Bal..."

Ballister's head turned, leaning his cheek against the cool metal of the row of lockers. Yep; there it was. That iconic scar over his right eye, the one that made him look equal parts sketchy and badass. His brows were knit tight over his eyes, which were squeezed shut. His lips and that stupid (...honestly awesome) mustache were pulled back, revealing his clenched teeth. A grunt was forced past those as Goldy shoved his hips forward again. 

Todd pulled back, leaning his back against his locker. They didn't know he was there...

"That's it...c-c'mon, Bal..."

If Todd focused on breathing through his mouth, he could hear them pretty clearly over the sound of the air conditioning. He could hear the slide of skin against skin, grunting and groaning. Every once in a while a moan or a whimper. 

Unable to bite back his curiosity, Todd slowly peeked around the lockers again. No, he hadn't been imagining any of it. Ambrosius Goldenloin had Ballister Boldheart pinned up against the lockers and was plowing into him at a slow but steady pace. Todd's eyes drifted downward; each time Goldy's hips thrust forward, Boldheart's toes literally curled on the floor. 

“Fuck…” Ballister grit the word out through clenched teeth.

“Did so good today…" Goldie was holding tight to Boldheart's hips, nails digging in with each thrust.  "Wanted you...so bad..." 

Boldheart's voice was strained; only a whined "Please..." left his lips.

Todd had no idea that noise could come from the rough, coarse street urchin. Against his will, he began to grow hard in his jeans.

"Love when you beg..." The sounds of skin slapping against skin picked up in pace. Todd didn't have to look back around the lockers; he could now see it clearly in his mind. "Don't worry...Gonna give you...what you want..."

Todd's dick pressed uncomfortably against the fabric of his boxers. Fuck...It didn't do for the likes of noble-borns like him to cuss; the Director had basically hammered that into his head since he was like three. But it was the only word he could really think as his cock throbbed painfully.

An undignified whine slid through the air. Desperately trying to distract himself from the painful throbbing, Todd risked another glance around the row of lockers that hid him. Goldie had let go of Boldheart's hip; that stupidly soft hand had disappeared between his legs.

Oh. That's a reach-around, he thought. Why had he decided to wear boxer-briefs today? They were way too tight. 

"That's it..." Ambrosius was grunting as he spoke, punctuated by stuttering thrusts. "C'mon, Bal...come on..."

The air conditioning in the knights' locker rooms was punctured by a long, low keening sound. That's Ballister, Todd thought, able to feel the heartbeat in his dick at this point. That's what he sounds like when he finishes...

"A-a-ah!" Ambrosius wasn't too far behind. Todd had to give the fucker props; he wasn't sure he'd last anywhere near as long, if he'd have the Commoner's ass all to himself. Hell, just for the last few minutes, alone, his cock felt like it was about to burst!

As the sounds of sweaty skin hitting sweaty skin dissipated, the sounds of heavy breathing replaced it. "Great work." That was Ballister's voice. Todd didn't need to look in order to know that there was a smile on that stupid mustache of his. 

"Hey, that was a team effort!" There was a sound of skin being slapped and then a peal of laughter. Todd couldn't blame Ambrosius; he'd now seen, for himself, that Ballister Boldheart had one Hell of a smackable ass. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Let's think of the present, first." The sounds of footsteps on the smooth stone floor echoed through the locker rooms. "Give me a moment, I have to..."

"Here. Let me help..."

They were probably cleaning up. Todd made a mental note to see if he could find where the Commoner jizzed later on.

"Satisfying end to a good day." 

"Oh, really? Just 'satisfying?'" That weird teasing vibe only ever came out of Goldie when he was talking to the Street Rat. Despite himself,Todd couldn't help huffing. What's he got that none of us do?

"All right, all right. Amazing. Incredible. Mind-blowing."

Todd couldn't help rolling his eyes. Yeah, yeah; lovey-dovey banter, whatever. 

Ballister continued. "And sweaty." Todd strained his ear; he could hear the sound of someone sniffing the air. "All right, I've played enough. Time for more work."

"Oh? Mind if I join you?"

Todd hated to admit it, but Ballister had kind of a nice laugh. "Hmm...Ambrosius Bloody Goldenloin, joining me in the shower...How could I possibly mind?"

The sounds of bare feet on the floor lead in the direction Todd knew the showers were in. As soon as he heard the door close and the water start, he made a beeline for his own locker. Or, at least, as much as a beeline as he could; the throbbing boner made it hard to move too quickly. 

He had shit to do later on that day, but he decided he could call in sick. Bonus of being a Sureblade. After all, he had a personal problem to take care of.

And certain adjustments to a certain long-standing spank bank fantasy to make.