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Laurent is a Pet AU

Chapter Text

“This seems far from necessary,” Laurent mumbles as Ancel dabs his finger over Laurent’s lips, smearing gloss.

Ancel’s eyes stay on Laurent’s lips. “If you plan to charm your way into the Akielon prince’s guestrooms, you must look the part of someone he’d want there.” Ancel stays focused on his task for a second longer, then adds a deliberately belated, “my Prince.”

Laurent lets it slide only for the fact that Ancel is sparing his time and jewels to help Laurent with his mission. He will also be earning a pretty penny for his efforts.

When it comes time to add jewels to his body, Laurent dislikes the looks the pet gives him.

“I see you already have many of these places pierced,” Ancel teases as he hands Laurent a blue gem to put though his navel. “And here I thought we’d need elaborate clip-ons or sticky glue to hold them in place.”

Laurent doesn’t want to know what else sticky glue might be used for or why Ancel has any. “I’m surprised you even kept any other color jewel. All you ever seem to wear is emerald.”

Ancel sees no point in comment, which is wise on his part; Laurent is still his Prince. He just hands over a single drooping earring and walks away, coming back with pet paint.

Laurent detests pet paint, even on the pets, but he swallows the complaints and closes his eyes to let Ancel paint gold and blue swirls and dots over his arms and chest and neck and face.

Laurent nearly jumps out of his skin when cold fingers touch his nipples.

Ancel is glaring down at them, pinching them between his stained fingers, then gives a little tug. Laurent’s cock stirs in interest and Laurent viciously kills the feeling. His nipples are far too sensitive if Ancel can draw his interest from such a plain touch.

“Are these pierced? I have rings for them. Or we can just clamp them. The Akielons will be arriving tonight in time for festivities; clamps on a pet would surprise no one.”

Laurent takes Ancel by his wrists and removes his hands from his chest. “Yes, they’re pierced. Rings will be fine.”

A dismissal if there ever was one. Ancel gives the smirk of a predator who just learned his prey’s weakness, but scampers off after the rings without further prompting.

Laurent dares a glance at himself in the mirror while Ancel isn’t looking, and is startled by what he finds there. Laurent no longer looks like a prince, he barely even looks like himself.

Laurent usually keeps himself tightly laced and expression icy. Now, he looks seductive. Silks billowing around his legs, arms decorated with bracelets and paints, torso in a similar situation. His face has a golden paint to compliment his cheekbones and a gloss to give his full lips shine, blue lines his eyes, a near match to his actual color.

They haven’t started on his hair yet, but that is sure to be just as elegant and sexy as everything else about him.

Laurent had been so lost looking at himself, he hadn’t noticed Ancel come up until the pet was already behind him, pressed to his back and meeting Laurent’s eyes through the mirror from over his shoulder. “The barbarian won’t know what hit him, my Prince.”

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Damen nearly chokes on his drink when he lays eyes on the pet. A pretty little blond, one of the few in Vere, scantily clad and painted all over. Crystal blue and liquid gold.

He’s heard of the pet system, of a contract between a pet and their patron. Sort of like a short term slave, though more brazen and with more liberties.

This pet joined the party with a haughty redhead at his side; by the way he’s dressed he’s also a pet. They split though, and seek out either their patrons or potentials.

Damen watches the blond, hoping he’s searching and isn’t already bought.

The blond drifts from person to person, never settling anywhere for too long. Damen is feeling hopeful, and thinks about approaching, then wonders if that’s following etiquette. He’s already seen as a barbarian, best to follow as many Veretian customs as he can.

The blond looks over his shoulder, tucking a shining strand of hair behind his ear, and his eyes land on Damen.

They’re sharp, the eyes of a predator, and Damen’s never been more thankful to be prey. The blond turns, keeping his eyes on Damen, and makes his way over on delicate bare feet.

He glides over the grass with grace. Damen feels lost in the ocean of his eyes, and before he knows it, the pet has arrived, and settled nicely in his lap. Damen doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch or not, but he knows he wants to.

“I’m Charls, if you like,” the pet says, lacing his fingers into Damen’s curls.

Damen can feel his cock stirring, and worries about how public the space is. “Prince Damianos.”

Charls raises a beautifully arched brow. “A prince?” The pet’s lips press together and he begins to rise.

Damen grabs his hips before he can leave, not demanding but halting.

The pet seems nonplussed, but he resettles. “I’m afraid I won’t be much to your tastes.”

Damen caresses his cheek, careful of the immaculate paint. “You may be surprised to find you are exactly to my tastes.”

Charls smiles and settles himself more fully in Damen’s lap, against his cock. Damen anticipates a very pleasant evening ahead.

Damianos had offered a lot of gem encrusted jewelry in return for a night with Charls. Laurent shakes his head. He’ll add the jewelry to Ancel’s pay.

Damianos had been a good lay, but not what Laurent had come here for.

He slips from the sheets, warm and still moist with sweat. Damianos doesn’t stir, but Laurent doesn’t expect him to.

Laurent looks through the papers in a chest Damianos had brought with him, and when that proves fruitless, he goes for the desk.

Laurent cannot find the note, but he needs the proof. He needs to find out who Damianos sent to kill Auguste.

A warm body presses to his back, large hands cage him at the desk. It seems Damianos has woken up, and he’s more light footed than his big body would have you believe.

“What are you doing?” His voice sounds dangerous.

Laurent didn’t expect Damianos to wake back up, he’d slipped a sleep aid into his drink to ensure he wouldn’t until Laurent could slip away.

He hadn’t accounted for his massive size well enough.

Laurent presses back, onto Damianos’ cock. It earns him a grunt, a hand gripping his hip. “I was hoping for a third round, on the desk this time.”

“Is that so?” Damianos asks, then beats his hips violently into Laurent’s, knocking him into the desk.

A hand to his back holds Laurent down, and Damianos twists one of his arms to a painful angle.

“Ngh!” Laurent’s arm burns, his shoulder threatening to part from its socket. He smirks. “Kinky.”

Damianos bares his weight down on Laurent. “Why are you here? Who sent you?”

Laurent glares and doesn’t speak. What use would that be?

“One call of my guards and your head will be on a pike, pet. Now answer me.”

Chapter Text

Damianos grips his arm tighter, so Laurent uses the only thing at his disposal, and presses back against Damianos’ cock again. He bites his lip.

Damianos makes a noise in his throat, more confusion than arousal. “…Is this turning you on?”

Laurent smirks. Damianos is too far behind him to make eye contact with, so he stares at the wall to his side. “Never had a Veretian pet before, have you?”

Damianos doesn’t let up, but his tone changes. “Why were you looking through the papers on my desk?”

“I can read, but not Akielon. I wasn’t looking at your papers, I was looking for more oil.” A good enough lie, believable. Hopefully Damianos will buy it. Laurent adds with a smile, going pliant under Damianos’ body, “You pay so well, I though to get a little more out of you before we part.”

Damianos releases Laurent’s arm with the caution of a warrior, and Laurent can respect that even if he detests everything else about the man. He thought Akielons were supposed to be honorable. Why would Damianos pay an assassin to kill Auguste?

And where is he hiding the agreement?

Maybe he burned it, and Laurent is wasting his time here.

Damianos rises off of Laurent, and rubs at the shoulder he’d threatened to dislocate. He moves Laurent’s hair over his other shoulder and presses a kiss to his neck, already littered in marks.

Laurent figures he may as well pry verbally, since looking has gotten him nowhere. He tilts his head and pulls one of Damianos’ hands to his hip. Damianos rocks them together in a gentle rhythm. “Are you enjoying your time in Vere so far?”

He can feel Damianos smile against his neck. “It’s been very pleasant.”

Laurent can feel Damianos growing hard. He brings Damianos’ other hand, the one rubbing his shoulder, around to his chest. Damianos takes the hint and pulls at the ring in his nipple. “What do you think of the people?”

Another tug. Laurent gasps. “I like the people a lot,” he says, placing a wet kiss behind Laurent’s ear. “Less suspicious than I thought. A lot kinkier than I believed.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Laurent says as he turns in Damianos’ arms. “We’ve barely scratched the surface.”

Damianos grins and drags Laurent back to the bed. On closer inspection, Laurent can see gold and blue paint smeared over the sheets. Damianos sits, pulls Laurent to kneel over his lap. “Do you enjoy the food?”

“It’s very sweet,” Damianos says against his neck, intent on leaving the whole thing red apparently.

“I enjoy sweets,” Laurent tells him, a little truth to mix in with all the lies. He cards his fingers into Damianos’ hair and pulls his head to Laurent’s chest. “And the king?”

“Auguste is a fine man,” he says around a nipple.

Laurent sighs. “He is soft, and too trusting. It will get him killed.” See if discontent will reveal Damianos’ own.

Damianos pulls away from his chest, eyes a little dazed, but bewildered. “My brother says the same thing. What is wrong with being kind and trusting your people?”

“This is Vere, Damianos.” But he’s given Laurent pause.

Damianos rolls them so Laurent is on his back, Damianos between his thighs.

Does Damianos truly believe Auguste a good man?

Damianos reaches into the drawer and pulls out a veil of oil. He unstoppers it with his teeth.

Why would he send someone to kill Auguste if he felt that way?

Damianos spreads the oil on his cock, fingers some into Laurent, still loose from earlier.

He said his brother thought Auguste weak, though.

Damianos positions himself, leaning over to leave another mark on Laurent’s neck.

Kastor. He’s been searching the wrong prince.

Damianos presses in.

Laurent gasps.

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Laurent tries to think, passed the euphoria and the lust, to Kastor. He’s in Vere too, down one room from his brother.

Laurent didn’t even consider the bastard. He’d heard prince, he’d thought Damianos.

Auguste’s life hangs in the balance, and Laurent has wasted a whole night getting absolutely wrecked.

He won’t even be able to walk away from the bed at this rate.

Damianos has him on his knees, held with Laurent’s back to his chest, thrusting deep inside of him.

Laurent thinks back, trying to remember who he saw interacting with Kastor, any new faces at the party last night. But his attention had been on Damianos, and with such a big celebration, so many new faces were there.

Damianos tilts Laurent’s head, catching his lips in a searing kiss. His hand curls around Laurent’s cock.

Kastor hadn’t arrived with anyone, and the Veretians would avoid him on principle, that would leave Vask, Patras, or Akielos. Akielos is too full of honor to have assassins, probably. Vask has a special interest in this party, with the empress’ daughter marrying Auguste. Patras gains nothing from this, and are not quite so honor-bound as Akielos.

He remembers Torveld seeing him, giving a secret smile at the sight of Laurent disguised as a pet. He’d sent a wink and said nothing.

Laurent doesn’t recall other Patrans catching his eye, but by then his focus was with Damianos. If he could just talk to Kastor, he may be able to get some information out of him.

“You have a brother, right?”

Damianos’ thrusts slow to a stop. “Yes?”

Laurent makes his eyes wide in faux innocence. “It’d cost a little extra, but–”

Damianos shakes his head. “I don’t want to share with my brother.”

Laurent blinks. “Why not?”

“If you want Kastor so bad,” Damianos starts, then snaps his hips forward. “Then you can go see him when we’re done.”

Laurent thinks of doing exactly that, but isn’t sure he can handle much more tonight, especially if the other Akielon prince is as well endowed as Damianos is.

He wonders if Kastor is into blonds as much as Damianos is. That would make things easier.

Damianos pulls out, and lays Laurent on his back. He stares down at Laurent with a frown. “Stop thinking about my brother.”

Laurent smirks. “Why? Does it make you jealous?”

Damianos presses Laurent’s thighs to his chest without a word and presses into him again. His rolls his hips at neck breaking speed.

Laurent gasps, then laughs. “That’s some pretty vicious thrusting for someone who loves their brother.”

Damianos places his hand over Laurent’s mouth, looking genuinely mad now. “I don’t want to talk about my brother.”

Laurent licks Damianos’ hand to get it off his mouth, it doesn’t work though.

Damianos has Laurent’s legs over his shoulders, a hand over Laurent’s mouth, and is working his hips against Laurent’s with every intention of cumming soon.

Laurent can barely breathe, feels pulled tight and ready to snap. His fingers curl around Damianos’ wrist, nails digging into his skin.

Damianos is panting, glaring down at Laurent, the hand not over his mouth pressed into the mattress by his head.

He moves his hand away to stick his tongue down Laurent’s throat, wrapping his hand around Laurent’s cock. Laurent keens, cums.

Damianos follows after, groaning.

He pulls out, and rolls off Laurent. He doesn’t even allow Laurent a moment to catch his breath. “Get out.”

Laurent freezes in his spot. He looks over, but Damianos has his back to him, cleaning himself off with his chiton. “What?”

“You can leave now. I’m done wasting time on people who want Kastor more.” He pulls the sheets over his body, and Laurent is dismissed.

Laurent gets off the bed on shaking legs, cum running down his thighs and sticking to his stomach. He redresses, takes the jewels he was paid, and leaves the room.

The guards outside the door don’t spare him a glance, and Laurent heads for his room.

His guards do spare him a glance. Utterly debauched and thoroughly used, dressed as a pet with jewelry in hand, and returning to bed just hours before the sun rises. Jord nearly chokes on his own spit and Lazar gives a low whistle.

Laurent isn’t in the mood for it. “Not a word of this will reach Auguste’s ears, or I’ll wear your cocks for necklaces.”

“Before or after we get a turn?” Lazar asks anyway, because he’s cheeky and likes to push his luck.

Laurent gives him the finger.

Chapter Text

Laurent comes to Ancel’s rooms first thing in the morning. He’s back in his usual garb, laced from neck to toes, holier-than-thou attitude in place. Ancel’s hair looks no better than Laurent’s had when he’d returned to his rooms in the dark hours of the morning. Ancel looks more pleased than Laurent had.

Laurent drops the jewelry onto the end of his bed, ignoring Berenger still sleeping beside him. “I may require your assistance again. I’ll be in touch.”

Ancel grins, his eyes sparkling, and collects the jewelry to be sorted and put away later.

Laurent leaves the pet quarters and heads to the dining hall. Laurent is to have breakfast with his brother and their soon to be queen. Damianos will likely be there, but Laurent cannot miss another social gathering so soon after the first.

When he enters, Auguste smiles. Laurent takes his seat by his side without a word. They are the first to arrive, as is expected. The empress’ daughter will be the last.

“How did it go?” Auguste asks before taking a sip of tea.

Laurent does the same. “I was with the wrong prince.”

Auguste raises a brow, his smile falling. “Who, then, do you suspect now?”

“The bastard.”

Auguste nods, placing his cup down. “You don’t think Damianos is involved?”

Laurent considers, then shakes his head. “He and his brother are having a tiff right now, likely over a lover.”

Auguste raises a brow. “And how would you know that?”

Laurent goes to great lengths to keep his face from flushing. “I have my ways.”

Auguste leans back in his chair, lips tight. “You slept with him.”

Laurent glares at the tea in his cup, then sets it down. “What if I did?”

Auguste doesn’t get to answer, because Damianos and Kastor walk in then. Auguste glares at Damianos and Kastor alike.

They both bow, in regard to Auguste’s superior station, then take their seats. Kastor sits by Laurent, Damianos sits across from him.

Auguste gives a wicked grin. “Prince Damianos, Prince Kastor. I don’t believe you got the pleasure of meeting my brother last night. He was unable to attend the party.”

Kastor nods his head and sips at his tea. Damainos looks over at Laurent and his eyes widen immediately. Laurent shows no recognition on his face.

Auguste hums, feigning worry. “What’s the matter, Damianos? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

Damainos tears his eyes away from Laurent to look at Auguste. “No, uh, no ghost.”

He offers no more than that. Laurent feels foolish for thinking he could plot an assassination attempt.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Laurent says with a bow of his head. “Yours as well, Prince Kastor.” He smiles.

Kastor glances his way, thoughts swirling behind his uncaring eyes. Laurent would love the chance to know what he’s hiding. “A pleasure.”

Laurent greets other guests as they filter in, spending an extra moment to lightly flirt with Torveld, as they seem to do with each other. Laurent almost ended up matched to the man, at one point in his life, it seems fitting they keep a modicum of flirtation between one another.

When the queen to be arrives, all rise from their seats, and Auguste guides her to sit by his side. She is a spitting image of the empress, all dark hair and wild eyes. Laurent thinks she’ll hold herself well against the Veretian court.

Damianos stares all through breakfast, but Laurent has shifted his attention to the bastard prince at his side.

He manages light conversation with Kastor, who seems intent to not speak at all. The Veretians watch Laurent curiously, and Kastor seems of a similar stance.

When Laurent grows tired of being ignored, he touches a finger to Kastor’s thigh, slides it up the muscles not covered by his chiton, then rises. To Auguste, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

He slips out into the hall, then waits to see if Kastor will join him.

Chapter Text

Laurent’s back is to the wall, his arms folded. He’s tucked himself in an alcove, watching the door through a gauzy curtain.

To his surprise–-and he really shouldn’t have been-–Damianos steps out, clearly looking for Laurent.

Laurent hangs back, allowing him to look. He needs Kastor, not Damianos.

Luckily, Damianos wanders off down the hall. He’ll be back eventually, but hopefully by then Laurent will have Kastor.

And Kastor does comes out, but Laurent doesn’t reveal himself because Damianos comes back.

He watches and listens instead.

Damianos jogs over when he sees Kastor. “Kastor, have you seen Prince Laurent?”

Kastor looks over at Damianos, his face blank. “No.”

Damianos comes to stand with him. They’re by the doors to the formal dining room, but they’re thick doors with no guards posted. The guards are at the ends of the hall instead, to seem less hostile.

Laurent is no fool; he has some of the best men guarding Auguste’s person at all times, unseen.

“I can’t seem to find him,” Damianos says.

“What does it matter? Didn’t get enough out of your blond pet last night?” Kastor leers. He’d seen Laurent then, knows he left with Damianos.

“That’s the thing,” Damianos says, stepping closer and lowering his voice. Laurent has to strain to hear him. “I think they’re one and the same.”

Kastor scoffs, quickly dismissing the thought, which is reassuring. “Clearly you haven’t heard the rumors about the little prince. Cold. Cast iron. Wouldn’t touch most people with an eight foot pole.”

He gives Laurent pause. Little?…Kastor isn’t going to sleep with Laurent. He’s here to reject him.

Damianos frowns. “I had heard that, actually.” He pauses, stares down at his sandals. How lucky the wedding is during the summer months when the chill of Vere is at its weakest. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” Kastor looks down the hall Damianos had come from, then heads in the opposite direction. “I’ll return shortly.”

Damianos’ brows furrow. “Where are you going?”

“Can a man not piss in private?”

Damianos shakes his head, a smile touching his lips, then returns inside. Laurent watches after Kastor, a plan forming in his head. It involves a renewed visit to Ancel.

Chapter Text

Ancel knows the drill now. He’s a quick learner, and knows when to keep his mouth shut. Laurent wonders about taking his contract, but for a purpose wholly different from a pet’s usual services.

Laurent’s eyes are donned more heavily, his features more contoured. His silks accentuate his hips to give the illusion that they’re wider, his waist trained thin from the corsets he wears under his jackets.

Laurent wears red tonight, bright and fiery. Ancel sticks to his greens, but Laurent isn’t here to critique his looks.

Laurent is bejeweled and painted, his hair tied into several severe braids in the Vaskian style.

Then he’s ready to go.

Laurent wanders between the Vaskian men, all groping and catcalling, and smiles at the treatment before he wanders away. The plan to keep them happy is working well. Drunk, fed, and with contract-free pets in abundance, they’re getting their fill in every way imaginable.

Keeping the Vaskians happy is not a hard thing to accomplish, but necessary all the same.

Laurent makes his way passed Kastor, just far enough away to not be too obvious. He needs the man to see him first.


Damianos. Of course. Laurent keeps from reacting, continuing on his way through the crowd.

“Charls?” Damianos tries instead.

He falters his step, pivoting on his heels. He brings a curious look to his face. “Yes?”

Damianos walks up to him. He towers over Laurent, and Laurent feels a thrill run through him. “I was hoping to run into you.”

Laurent smirks, placing his hand on Damianos’ bare chest. “Were you?”

Damianos takes Laurent’s hand and removes it from his chest. Laurent frowns. “I need to talk to you.”

He doesn’t give Laurent a chance to respond before he changes his grip and drags Laurent after him, away from the party.

“Where are you taking me?” he demands, in the voice of a petulant pet.

Damianos doesn’t answer, but once they’re far enough away he stops, and holds Laurent by his arm so he can’t run away. He’s watching Laurent with narrowed eyes. “You look a lot like the prince.”

“Prince Laurent?” Laurent asks, arching a brow. “I’m often told that. It adds to my appeal.” Laurent gives him a flirty smile. “Is that what you wanted? I’d be more than happy to–”

Damianos has gone red faced, and stumbles over his words to make Laurent stop. “No, no, no. No, that’s, that’s okay. I don’t want that from you…People actually ask you to do that?”

“They pay me to do it,” Laurent corrects. “Prince Laurent is a highly sought after man, not so easily attained.” Let him think them similar in looks only; Damianos doesn’t need to wonder too much about Charls and Laurent.

Laurent needs to get back to Kastor. He’s running out of time.

“Prince Damianos,” he says, growing serious. “I have to make my rounds if I would like to eat and keep my room in the castle. If you don’t wish to buy my time, I need to find someone who will.”

Damianos seems to hesitate, a very telling move that Laurent won’t soon forget, then lets him go. Laurent gives him a parting bow, then returns to the party alone.

Kastor is gone.