It was far from unusual for Ferdinand von Aegir, Prime Minister of Adrestia and right hand of the Emperor, to go to sleep alone. Far from unusual, and yet greatly unsatisfactory.
Would he have preferred to wrap his arms around a particular lithe, pale body as he drifted on to dreams of teatime and horse rides at sunset? Absolutely. Would he have preferred to rest his weary head upon a warm chest, a deceptively strong arm wrapped around his waist, holding him close? Most assuredly.
Which was why, sitting up in bed as the silk sheets pooled at his hips, Ferdinand von Aegir decided he had reached his limit for loneliness.
He pulled on his clothes in a reverse bedtime routine, brow furrowed and rehearsing exactly what he would say. He imagined pointing a finger at Hubert’s face and watching his lover’s pale eyes water with shame.
“I’m so sorry for leaving you alone, my love,” his mind’s version of Hubert said. “Tell me what I can do to make it up to you. Anything at all, and I promise it’s yours.”
If only the real Hubert spoke like that.
Sighing, Ferdinand stalked off to find the Minister of Imperial Affairs. There were a handful of place he could be—Ferdinand had become quite adept at finding them, like knowing all the spots a spider could hide in his bedroom—but he had a feeling his first guess would be correct tonight.
As expected, he found Hubert in his office, forehead resting on a gloved hand as he bent over a stack of paperwork. He barely even lifted his gaze as Ferdinand shut the office door and crossed his arms.
“Well?” Ferdinand said imperiously. At least, he hoped he sounded imperial and that the whining tone in his ear was imagined. “What’s the excuse this time?”
Hubert sighed. There were at least a hundred years of exhaustion in that sigh. “If by excuse you mean work…”
“Work is for daytime hours.” Ferdinand walked to the window and twitched the drapes aside to reveal the inky blackness outside. “Darling, what is that round, white orb in the sky? That couldn’t possibly be the sun, could it?”
“Don’t,” Hubert groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “These have to be reviewed by my meeting with the southern spies tomorrow. I need to give them specific orders before their next mission.”
“That meeting isn’t until the evening.” Ferdinand leaned against the wide desk, his bare hand beside Hubert’s gloved one. “You won’t be any good to anyone if you don’t get some rest. And besides…” Ferdinand touched his pinky to Hubert’s, a thin layer of fabric separating them. “I miss you.”
Hubert paused at that, glancing up at him. His black hair fell across one eye, so Ferdinand swept it away carefully, revealing the entirety of the man’s tired face. Hubert turned his face into Ferdinand’s hand, as if savoring its warmth.
“I know,” Hubert murmured. “I’m sorry. There’s just so much to do…And I’m afraid if we don’t get a head start, those who slither in the dark will come for us when we least expect it.”
Ferdinand suppressed a wince. He understood the importance of Hubert’s work, knew there were more threats to Edelgard and the reunification of Fódlan than paperwork and dissenting nobles.
But that was no excuse for Hubert sending himself to an early grave via sleep deprivation.
Ferdinand brushed his thumb gently against the bag under Hubert’s left eye. “Darling, you can’t protect anyone if you’re exhausted like this.”
Hubert tensed, annoyance flickering across his gaunt face. Then his shoulders slumped, and he stared down at the report before him.
“You’re unbearably correct.” Ferdinand allowed himself a small smile of victory. “Once I finish these next five reports, I’ll go to bed.”
Ferdinand’s smile fell into a scowl. It was time to deploy the last weapon in his arsenal.
He ran his fingertips around to the back of Hubert’s neck, trailing over the short hairs at his nape. Hubert shivered with a sharp inhale.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go to bed now, my love?” Ferdinand murmured into his ear. He leaned over Hubert, making sure those long, ginger locks fell before the man’s face. Hubert took the bait and reached up, running gloved fingers through Ferdinand’s hair. “I promise I can make it worth your while.”
He kissed the side of Hubert’s jaw, down to where the man’s pulse drummed in anticipation against his lips. Hubert tensed again, as if to move away from Ferdinand’s ministrations. Ferdinand grabbed his coat before he could escape, pressing his mouth to Hubert’s parted lips.
The man under him moaned as Ferdinand’s heart kicked against his chest. He’d been yearning for a kiss all day, daydreaming about Hubert’s mouth during meetings when he should have been paying attention. Gradually he felt Hubert relax under him, licking into his mouth, their tongues sliding together with a wet, velvet heat. A small growl vibrated from Hubert’s chest as he grabbed Ferdinand in a sudden swell of passion and forced him up onto the desk.
Hubert’s mouth descended to his neck, biting and sucking with a frantic energy, as if he too had been dreaming of this. Ferdinand whimpered, tilting his head to the side, revealing as much of his skin as possible. He wanted Hubert to mark all of it, to ignite every inch of him with his touch.
“You think I don’t miss you as well?” Hubert growled against his ear. Ferdinand weakly held onto Hubert’s coat, shivering at that possessive tone. “That I haven’t thought about having you here under my hands instead of these damned reports?”
Ferdinand opened his mouth, but only a soft cry escaped. Hubert scraped his teeth against Ferdinand’s jaw.
“I sit here thinking about the noises you make,” Hubert went on, unbuttoning Ferdinand’s shirt to bite his collarbone. “About the way your face looks when you come. The sound of my name on your lips.”
Ferdinand ran his fingers through Hubert’s hair, chest heaving as his shirt was unbuttoned and slipped off his shoulders. His nipples were already hard, and he arched as Hubert wetly kissed them.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you into oblivion for days,” Hubert went on, fingers digging into Ferdinand’s muscled thighs.
He gathered just enough breath to say, “Fuck me, then.”
Hubert’s pupils were blown wide, breath hitching in his throat. He pushed Ferdinand down onto the desk’s surface, tugging impatiently at his breeches. The wood was cold against Ferdinand’s shoulderblades, but he was hot and aching all over, pulling on Hubert’s coat and shirt.
“Off,” he whined. “Please…”
Hubert shucked off his black coat and shirt, eyes never leaving Ferdinand’s face. Ferdinand reached out to trail his fingers over the hot, smooth skin, groaning as Hubert pressed their chests together.
“This would be…more comfortable on our bed,” Ferdinand panted.
“I want you like this,” Hubert said, slipping Ferdinand’s breeches down his hips, his thighs. “Spread out before me. Your cries ringing down the corridor for anyone to hear.”
Ferdinand was burning, biting his lower lip at this side of Hubert that could make him blush like nothing else in the world could. He loved this mixture of humiliation and exhilaration, but he wouldn’t tell Hubert that.
Not yet, anyway.
He was completely bared now, Hubert spreading his legs and falling to his knees. Ferdinand choked over a cry as he felt Hubert’s lips against the base of his already leaking cock, tongue flickering out to trace the length of the vein there. When that tricky tongue teased the slit, he arched off the desk.
“Hubert,” he moaned, tears building at the corners of his eyes. He felt indecent and decadent like this, wondering what would happen if a guard happened to walk through the office door right that instant. A half-hysterical laugh escaped him as Hubert kissed the side of Ferdinand’s knee, then up his cavalier thighs.
“You really wanted this,” Hubert commented, and Ferdinand didn’t have to look at him to sense the smirk on his face. A hand—still gloved, damn him—began to stroke him leisurely. “Admit it, you only wanted me to come to bed so that I could take care of you.”
Ferdinand struggled to open his eyes as Hubert leaned over him again. Most people said Hubert looked terrifying, dark, ominous, but Ferdinand saw nothing but beauty in those pale green eyes, that solemn, studious expression.
He wrapped his arms around Hubert’s shoulders and savored the heat of his body, his mouth. “Not only for that reason,” Ferdinand murmured once their lips parted. “I want you to rest. To take care of yourself.”
Hubert nuzzled against Ferdinand’s neck, earning another shiver as he kissed against marks that would bruise by morning. “Yes, my love.”
Ferdinand’s heart swelled as a shaking sigh left his lungs. Hubert kissed down his chest, his toned stomach, enveloping his cock with that sultry, poisonous mouth. Ferdinand keened around the knuckles he bit down on, hips twitching up for more.
The sound of a drawer opening and closing. A moment later, and he felt a finger—bare now, thank the Goddess—reach between his legs, smoothing oil against his hot skin.
Ferdinand swallowed a gasp and leaned his head back against the desk as Hubert slid a long, talented finger inside him. He exhaled a laugh.
“You keep…that…at your desk?” Ferdinand breathed out.
“I told you my fantasy, didn’t I?” Hubert watched him raptly, holding Ferdinand’s legs open as he administered his sweet torture below. “I wanted to be prepared.”
Ferdinand wondered how Hubert had imagined this, whether Ferdinand had been on his back like this, or in Hubert’s lap, or bent over the desk with his hips in the air. He was mildly alarmed to find that he wanted to experience all three and figure out which he liked best.
Hubert had a certain knack for taking Ferdinand’s propriety and tossing it out the window.
A second finger was added, and Ferdinand couldn’t hold back a long, low cry. The feeling of those fingers rubbing against him, inside him, was so deliciously indecent. His cock was leaking onto his stomach, his thighs twitching in Hubert’s hold. And still the man stared at him as if roaming his gaze over a feast. Hubert’s tongue came out to wet his lips.
“You’re…” Hubert breathed out, his entire body shuddering with the motion. “Ferdinand…”
Oh, he wasn’t going to last very long at all if Hubert kept saying his name like that. Ferdinand writhed against the desk, moving his hips against Hubert’s fingers in a silent plea for more. The wet sounds that filled the office made his face burn.
Hubert took the hand Ferdinand used to try and cover his face and interlaced their fingers. “Don’t hide yourself. I want to see you.”
Ferdinand whimpered again. How did the man know exactly what to do to him, what to say? Hubert drove him mad in all the best and worse ways, and it was killing him in the gentlest manner possible.
He laid himself open to Hubert’s fingers when he added a third. His breath was raw and loud in his throat, vision beginning to blur. A warm, tight ache settled in his lower stomach, making his legs shake.
“Hubert,” he moaned. “I can’t…”
Hubert chuckled and nipped his neck, then kissed his swollen lips. Ferdinand wondered what he looked like, his hair spread under him, mouth ravaged, eyes feverish. If it was anything like Hubert’s awed, hungry expression, he thought he could understand why the man enjoyed watching him so much.
The fingers retracted, leaving him empty. Ferdinand barely had any time to protest until Hubert was freeing his own cock, flushed and leaking. Ferdinand watched in an agonized haze as Hubert stroked more oil over himself, his breaths tangled and shallow.
“That’s it,” Hubert whispered as he lined up their bodies, pinning Ferdinand’s wrists to the desk as he began to push inside. “Take it, my love.”
Ferdinand’s mouth hung open as the tweak of pain gave way to fulfillment and satisfaction. The moan that left him was hoarse and loud, his entire body set aflame by this most intimate of actions. He still couldn’t believe it had taken them so long to touch one another like this, after all their days at the monastery and all those bloody days of the war. Their bodies had been primed in other carnal ways, always expecting a lance through the side or a spell to the chest.
This, though…This was better than a won battle, sitting atop his warhorse as adrenaline fueled his body. This was the drowning relief of peace. The promise of a brighter dawn after a long, cold night.
Hubert’s hips pressed flush against him. Ferdinand’s legs wrapped around him, keeping him there, holding him close as he tried to catch his breath. It was pointless, as Hubert only kissed him and stole it away again. A thin strand of saliva broke between their mouths as Hubert leaned back, pulling out before thrusting back into him.
“Yes,” Ferdinand half-wailed, turning his face away, fingers curled against his forehead. Hubert grabbed a handful of Ferdinand’s hair, wrapping it around his fingers and pulling lightly. “Like that…”
“Keep making those noises for me,” Hubert rumbled above him, inside of him. “Let me know how much you like it.”
Hubert’s hips set a mild pace at first, letting Ferdinand adjust, ribs scraping against the sensitive insides of Ferdinand’s thighs. Then he began to push harder, quicker, making Ferdinand’s back slide against the desk.
He cried out and grabbed the edge of the desk above him. Papers went toppling. Pens skittered across the lacquered surface. Neither of them cared, too consumed in the other, too focused on the sounds of their bodies meeting and their breaths laboring in their chests.
When Ferdinand shifted his hips and felt Hubert hit that one perfect spot, his vision blackened as he let out a shout. Hubert’s fingers dug into his sharp hips, pulling him down mercilessly against his cock as he attacked that spot again and again.
“Hu…ah!” Ferdinand could barely even hear himself, his cries rising in pitch as that warm ache inside him tightened deliciously. He managed just enough coherence to glance down at the spot where he and Hubert were joined, watching the wetness of Hubert’s cock slam into his willing body.
He glanced up and met pale green eyes, focused entirely on him. As Hubert maintained eye contact, he reached for Ferdinand’s neglected cock and stroked it once.
It sent him over the edge—almost literally. Ferdinand’s back bowed as he let out a wail, stripes of wetness hitting his chest and stomach as the ground—rather, desk—tilted underneath him. The world was a confusing mass of sensation and he was at its mercy, shuddering as tears were shaken loose from his eyes, pleasure unfurling through him like the relief of hot water soothing sore muscles.
He had barely climbed down enough from his high to realize Hubert was still iron hard inside him. Hubert laughed softly, thrusting once more into him. Ferdinand mewled.
“You’re a mess, love,” Hubert taunted.
“Shut…up,” Ferdinand gasped. “You…”
He clenched around Hubert’s cock, satisfied by Hubert’s sharp inhale. The man leaned down and messily kissed him, hips picking up the pace again, scraping against Ferdinand’s overstimulated flesh.
“Apologies,” Hubert murmured, kissing his cheek, his temple, his neck. “I just enjoy getting a rise of you. I love seeing you like this…Undone because of me…”
Ferdinand shivered and held onto him, savoring the heat of Hubert’s body as he gasped into the man’s ear, reveling in the way Hubert moaned quietly against him. His hips began to stutter until Ferdinand felt him come inside his body, back muscles rippling under Ferdinand’s fingers.
“Ferdie…” Hubert gasped. Ferdinand raked Hubert’s hair away from his sweaty face, kissing anywhere he could reach.
“Was it what you imagined?” Ferdinand asked sleepily.
“Better.” Hubert stayed inside him a moment longer before slipping out with a hiss. Ferdinand couldn’t help but bemoan the loss of him. Hubert staggered slightly and caught himself on the edge of the desk, staring between Ferdinand’s legs. Then he began to swear.
“What?” Ferdinand struggled to sit up as Hubert yanked something from underneath him.
The report he’d been working on. It was completely ruined, stained with…unspeakable things.
Ferdinand’s face flushed painfully. “Oh dear.”
Hubert stared at the dripping report. Then he did something utterly terrifying: he began to laugh.
“Erm,” Ferdinand said. “Hubert?”
Shaking his head, Hubert tossed the report in the rubbish bin and reached in one of his drawers for a handkerchief. “I suppose this will be difficult to explain, but I’m sure I’ll find a way.”
Ferdinand raised an eyebrow as Hubert began to lovingly clean Ferdinand’s chest and stomach. “You’re not…mad?” He was, in fact, in a much better mood than Ferdinand had seen him in for several days.
He made a note of that.
“I suppose I’ll just have to deal with it tomorrow.” Hubert leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, making Ferdinand melt against him. “But that’s a problem for the morning.”
Ferdinand smiled and hid his face against Hubert’s neck as he continued to clean them both. “Then you’ll come with me to bed?”
Hubert kissed the top of his head. “Anything for you, love.”