Waking up to the first blush of dawn brightening the tent. Birds just beginning to wake in the field outside. The quiet sleep-sounds of my travel companions. The chill morning air, just perfectly kept at bay by my blanket.
Realizing as my mind becomes more alert that one part of me has woken up before the rest. Mumbling a quiet curse. Itβs hardly surprising, the way everyone has been carrying on during our journey. Just because I donβt take doesnβt mean I donβt want.
Squirming on my bedroll, weighing my options. I could ignore it, hope that the arousal will fade before we need to get moving. Or I could take care of things, hurriedly, quietly, trying not to think about the others hearing me. About what would happen if one of them found me like this.
One hand reaches down to palm myself over my braies. What if⦠is there a third option? My travelling companions have made no secret of their willingness to enjoy each other, and that does seem to include me. Could I solicit one of them? Maybe⦠more than one?
My face flushes red at the thought. No, I tell myself. It still feels presumptuous, and I donβt want anyone doing me any favours. Nothing that they donβt want just as badly as I do, anyway.
So I reach into my braies, my other hand coming up to cover my mouth, doing my best to keep quiet, pretending I donβt want the others to hear.
gray had always been an early riser-daylight is scarce and precious in blackwick. they step out of their tent into the fresh air, morning dew covering the tents and packs. they stretch the tiredness from their body and groan. the horses nicker gently at gray, and they decide to be helpful and get accomplish some of the morning tasks before the others wake.
the animal feed barrel sits next to one of the tents...is that errant's? and gray makes their way over, moving slowly to not disturb their companions.
in the darkness, they trip over a stone and curse, falling on their knee next to the tent. they hear shuffling in the tent and see a shadow moving inside. they curse again.
"sorry. didnt mean to wake you." they whisper.
I freeze at Grayβs voice, pulse pounding. Gods, what did they hear? Iβve done my best to stay quiet, but the camp is still and silent, and Gray sounds like theyβre mere inches away, right on the other side of the canvas.
βYou didnβt,β I stammer, not sure what else to say. Not sure whether to wait until theyβve moved on, or if I should stop altogether. The twitching in my hand makes the second option all but impossible.
gray takes note of the waver in their companion's voice. they lean against the wall of the tent as compassionately as someone is able to do that. they whisper gently to you, "what's the matter? did you have a nightmare? i get those all the time." they continue. "maybe it's a sign of something. do you want to tell me about it? i can come in and listen to you while the others wake." they wont stop talking. "did you eat something weird last night? i heard certain foods cause bad dreams. are you feeling alright? youre breathing pretty hard now."
Theyβve settled right outside, I can see their shadow stretch up the wall. I try to resign myself to the idea of leaving this unresolved, of tucking myself away and trying to ignore the throbbing all day, especially once Iβm up in the saddle, but something gives me pause. The memory of Grayβs reaction to the water dripping down my throat earlier in the journey comes to mind.
Maybe this doesnβt have to be over just yet.
βActually, Ser Gray,β I manage to find a gap in their rambling, and I let my voice drop into a soft timbre that I hope is as delicious to hear as it is to voice. βI didnβt have a nightmare.β
A pause. βOh?β
I let my hand begin to stroke again, slowly, indulgently. βAnd Iβm actually feeling - ah - quite fucking lovely.β
your voice's sudden drop in octave sends a shudder down gray's spine.
"oh." gray says again. "oh." they say one more time, finally getting it. "you're, uh, doing it right now?" their voice has dropped to an even quieter whisper. you can hear them audibly swallow.
the thought of you in the darkness of the tent with your hand moving slowly under the covers fills their head. they wonder if youre fully stiff yet, or still building to it. they imagine your strong hands and thicn fingers wrapped around your...their mind quickly snaps back to reality, and they look around quickly in the darkness, making sure no one has noticed the situation they've found themself in.
βIβm afraid I am,β I reply with a smirk, relishing the way Grayβs voice softens, getting smaller and smaller as they catch on. I can imagine the flush on their cheeks, before remembering that Iβve never actually seen their cheeks. Funny how they can keep their face covered, and yet I can picture it so clearly.
I pass my thumb over the tip of my cock, shivering at the feeling, already so sensitive. βDoes that make you uncomfortable, Ser Gray? Knowing Iβm touching myself, just inches away from you?β
Their shadow seems to squirm. βUmβ¦β
βOr,β I breathe with a grin, βdoes it turn you on to know that Iβm not stopping, even with you listening? Do you like hearing me like this?β
gray hears the smile in your voice, and something in their lower stomach twists so deliciously. they let their other knee drop to the ground, completely silent as they listen to your teasing.
they realize theyve been holding their breath, and let it out shakily before speaking "tell me ... tell me more. keep talking." they swallow again, "tell me what you're doing to yourself."
I slide my palm over the head this time, releasing a low moan, all the more enjoyable for the knowledge that I neednβt stifle it. That my sounds are half the game here.
βI could do that,β I say, βbut are you sure thatβs all you want, to hear my actions described? Youβre not picturing it clear as day, just hearing my sounds?β I push the covers back and pull myself out of braies, gasping at the cool air on my heated skin, before speeding up my hand a little, letting the wet slide grow more audible. βWouldnβt you rather hear what Iβm thinking about, whatβs got me like this?β
at the sound of your moan, gray's toes clench in their boots. they move their head closer to the tent wall, as close as they can without disturbing the canvas. wanting desperately to hear you closer, closer, to better illustrate the image they have of you in this moment in their mind.
they bite the inside of their cheek at the lewd sounds coming muffled through the fabric. they havent blinked in far too long, too lost in the thrill of the moment.
"i..i..i would, yes." they wring their hands together as they quietly speak, twisting a ring on their thumb back and forth. they can feel their pulse against the metal. "sir errant, please tell me what you're imagining. please."
I huff a triumphant chuckle as I see them lean closer, ear pressed to the wall of the tent, and Iβm glad I set up my bedroll so near the edge of my space. If not for the canvas wall, I would hardly have to extend my arm to touch them. It allows me to talk at little more than a murmur, knowing that Gray is hanging on my every sound.
Truth be told, I hadnβt been imagining anything in particular before. Now, however, hearing the way Grayβs breath stutters, as if theyβre holding it between each flustered request, I find my mind running wild.
βI find Iβm quite looking forward to the upcoming Tournament,β I say, almost conversationally. βI know the pairings have yet to be announced, but I keep thinking about facing you in the hand-to-hand.β I squeeze harder for a few strokes, closing my eyes and tipping my head back, letting the images fill my mind. βPressing against you, getting my hands on youβ¦ knowing your panting is from more than just exertion.β
I think I hear a whimper from outside, and my grin only widens.
gray pictures errant's fantasy vividly in their head, imagining the two of them together in the close quarters of the fighting ring, tunnel vision focusing their entire view on each other. the way their sweat makes their clothing cling close to the skin. the way their muscles twitch just before making a move. the heavy breathing. breathing heavily.
gray is breathing too heavily. they look around once more to make sure they are unwatched, and then back to the tent, where they can just barely make out errant's form in the first light. "i am, too. i c-cant stop thinking about it. i can't stop thinking about you." they clench their thighs, suddenly desperate for friction and tension, "tell me you're thinking about me, too." they plead with you.
βYou talk a big game, Gray.β My strokes are speeding up, almost without my input. βBut I wonder, is it just for show? Do you truly want to win our little game?β
Precum is dripping freely from the tip now, changing the sounds just slightly. βYou want to find yourself on top of me? Or would you rather - fuck - rather find yourself pressed into the dirt, my weight on your hips, my hands on your throat?β
My taunting is getting breathier as my climax builds, but I can hear from Grayβs own shaky breathing that Iβm not losing the effect. βThatβs how Iβm thinking of you, Gray. Helpless underneath me, desperate under my tough, writhing between my legs.β My hand is flying over my cock, and I know it wonβt be long now.
gray slaps a hand over their mouth. they breath heavily into one palm as the other presses their tunic into their lap, attempting to push down the sensations that threaten to rise to the rest of their body.
"i want to win, but..."
gray hears the wet sound of your hand increasing in pace and chokes down a wine. they bite their thumb hard at the image you conjure for them. utterly defeated and turned over to pleasure, their back arching on their own, their trembling legs pinning your hips together without volition.
"y-yes, errant. I'm imagining that, too. being forced to take whatever you give me, too exhausted and overwhelmed to do anything about it." you can see their shadow lean over, clutching their stomach and breathing harder now. "i want your hands holding me down and your lips on my mouth and your teeth on my skin and-and-and-"
"fuck. you're close aren't you? you're going to cum to the thought of me like that? to the thought of me?"
βFuck, Gray,β I groan, my hips jerking up into my palm, my other hand fisted in my blankets. βNext time, Iβm making you beg me to cum for you, making you sob for it.β My voice breaks, strained as I feel the finish climbing. βBut right now, I donβt think Iβ¦ I - ah, fuckβ¦β
My climax hits like a brick, arching my back and tearing through me with a strangled cry. I stroke through it, dragging it out, letting my sounds fall into gasps of pleasure, not holding back a single moan or whine, letting the knight outside hear what the thought of them does to me. When the last pulse hits, I sigh their name, slumping back into my bedding, covered in my release.
gray freezes like a deer as you moan their name and reach your finish, entirely rapt in the range of your cries and moans. they whisper your own name back to you, pleading and desperate, as you collapse back to your pillow.
theyre trembling as if they had just been the one to finish.
the first ray of sunlight shines through the foliage, piercing gray's eyes. they hear the sound of someone in another tent stirring. they bolt, also not unlike a deer, leaving you behind in your tent without a trace they were ever there.
