skystvrns˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

robby's still riding the high of whitaker's words as he stumbles into his apartment, the twenty minute walk from work doing nothing to clear his mind. "wow, you smell really good right now." the words were innocent enough, but he couldn't help the way they fed straight into his ego. dennis had caught robby at the end of his shift, speaking softly as robby had tugged his scrub top off, leaving him in his sweat soaked undershirt. the naïve words shot straight to his cock, his entire face and neck turning a deep red. robby tugged his hoodie on desperately trying to rush home before anyone noticed him chubbed up near the lockers. once he had all of his things, he awkwardly said his goodbyes, practically rushing out of the emergency room and making his way home. he doesn't even bother with dinner yet, making a beeline to his bedroom once his shoes are off and bag is on the floor.

the belt buckle hits his bedroom floor with a soft clang and his hoodie soon follows. he makes his way to his bed, turning on his bedside lamp and rummaging through the drawer. he finds a small bottle of lube, holding it in his hands to warm it up for a moment before tossing it on the bed. robby feels his cock swell in his boxers as dennis’ words bounce around in his brain. he lets out a soft sigh, climbing onto his bed and nestling himself against the pillows.

he whimpers quietly as he runs his hand over his cock, still trapped in the confines of his boxers. robby tugs his shirt off, setting it next to his head. the sweet smell of his sweat fills his nose as he digs the heel of his palm into his cock, reveling in the friction. a moan rumbles at the back of robby's throat and he frees his cock, starting to feel impatient. a small dribble of cum pools on his stomach, sticking to the small thatch of hair on his tummy. he kicks his boxers off, tossing them to the other side of his bed. he grabs the lube popping it open and pouring some into his hand before finally touching his dick, hissing softly at the contact.

the mix of precum and lube coats his cock as he strokes himself. he fists himself, thinking of how sincere dennis was earlier, actually commenting on the smell of his sweat. he had always appreciated his musk, especially after a long day at work, but the sweet words of the ms4 heightens his love for the stench. that combined with the fact that he had forgone deodorant that morning makes the compliment that much more erotic for robby. he whines, blindly reaching for his shirt with his left hand. he grabs it, desperately bringing it to his nose as he takes a big whiff. the scent of his skin and sweat scorches in his gut, and his cock leaks over his fingers. he shudders softly, pushing his shirt deeper into his face.

"f-fuck me..." robby groans, squeezing his cock as he strokes. heat pools in his gut at an alarming pace and he reluctantly lets go, his cock bobbing angrily as he backs away from the edge of pleasure. he squeezes his eyes shut, pushing his sweaty shirt further into his face as he thinks of dennis. robby imagines the boy smelling him, inhaling his stench and his cock weeps, cum collecting on his stomach. he slowly trails his hand back down, and a soft schlick noise fills the room as he brings his other hand up cautiously, tweaking his nipple roughly. robby chokes on a gasp as his hips jerk, seeking friction that’s unavailable. robby leaves his shirt laying on his face, his teeth holding it as he cups his balls. soft whines fill the air as he fondles himself, his thumb and forefinger rolling his nipple as sparks shoot down his spine.

the nub is soon abandoned as he drags his fingernails down his chest, picturing dennis below him. “oh fuck… dennis…” he moans softly, wrapping his fingers back around his cock. in his mind, it’s dennis at the end of his bed, smiling that cockeyed smile as he strokes robby’s dick. heat scorches his veins, the shame of thinking this way about his inferior making it that much hotter for him.

his strokes pick up, desperation flooding his gut as he nears his orgasm. in a moment of realization, his eyes snap open, and he desperately reaches for his boxers, stroking himself steadily. the grey shirt that was previously on his face, drops to the bed as robby flops back, bringing his used underwear to his nose. he inhales deeply, the pungent smell of his workday and sweat flowing through his body. he moans, the strong, heady aroma fueling his desire as he works his fist up and down his cock.

robby pictures dennis sniffing with him, the younger man’s hand wrapped around his cock. “you-you smell sooo good sir.” he’d whimper. the moan that escapes robby’s mouth can only be described as pathetic, thinking about all the times dennis meekly called him sir with purely respectful intentions. he rubs his thumb on his frenulum and feels his balls draw tight.

what seals the deal for robby is thinking about dennis asking him to smell his boxers, the words probably sounding so sweet and saccharine falling from his mouth. he takes one final inhale, and his hips stutter as he finally cums, gasps scratching their way from his throat. robby lays limp on his bed, his lungs trying to get back on track as the cum dries over his knuckles and lower stomach. he sighs to himself, grabbing his t-shirt from earlier, wiping his hand and tummy before tossing it towards the hamper.

robby lies there for a moment, taking a heavy breath before willing his body to move. he takes his boxers and moves to the hamper, tossing them in, along with his shirt. his footsteps barely register against the hardwood as he makes his way to his bathroom, desperately needing a shower. he showers with efficiency, almost as if he was trained to do so. he ignores how his cock aches, and he pushes the thoughts of dennis far from his mind. once he's decided he's clean enough, he turns the water off, grabbing a towel to dry himself off. he sighs, running the towel over his face before bringing it to his bedroom, dropping it in the hamper. robby moves to his bureau, silently grabbing another pair of boxers before sliding them over his hips and making his way out to the kitchen.

the refrigerator light beams towards robby as he stares at his almost empty fridge. he quickly grabs his takeout leftovers, nuking them before digging in. his mind drifts to the blond farmer boy, dennis’ competency and understanding of his job causing his neck to flush. he drags his large hand down his face, and he forces himself to scroll facebook, an app he rarely uses, to get his mind off the younger man. he sighs as he sees another med school peer of his has gotten married, and he shuts his phone off, washing his dishes and putting them away.

robby begrudgingly treks to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face again, before making his way to his bedroom once more. the inside of his cheek finds its way between his canines, him nibbling lightly as he lazily makes his bed presentable before climbing in. robby sets the lube back on his nightstand, deciding it can be taken care of tomorrow, and he stretches to shut the lamp off. he makes himself comfortable in the mess of blankets, ignoring the guilt creeping into his brain once more. with a soft sigh, he closes his eyes, deciding that the knowledge of him jerking off to his inferior stays between him and whatever higher power may be out there.

Those hands never fail to plague Dennis’s mind even in the comfort of his own home, where he seems to be getting dizzy from something other than grabbing hands. Sweet puppy eyes were now sleepy and glassy, pupils dilated, and brain fuzzy enough to make him feel the urge to start doing dumb things, things he would most likely regret when the high has worn off.

But his body was so damn warm… a nice tingle shooting through each of his nerves and reminding him of a very familiar feeling he gets when a certain doctor feels him up. 

So you can’t really blame him when he’s finished almost half of the blunt Trinity oh so very graciously gave him (she felt bad and decided he deserved a break while she went out with friends- she still wants the other half), and is pathetically palming at the outline of his unbearably stiff cock through the fabric of his thin pajama pants.

Soft hushed whimpers unintentionally bubble up from his throat at every graze his cock receives, he knows he shouldn’t be thinking about those big hands that push him around and rest over his own to guide him through life saving procedures… It's inappropriate and unprofessional.

That’s what a sober Dr.Whitaker would think, but stoned Dennis couldn’t honestly care less at the moment, not when he has to keep licking his lips from the insane cotton mouth and his fat cock is giving hopeless twitching pleas against his hand for that sweet release.

It’s when the pad of his thumb teasingly brushes over the puffy head of his needy cock through the soft fabric that makes the tears start to spring up, a broken almost sad whine slips through his lips at the overwhelming feeling of his sticky tip being stimulated.

God, he wishes it was Robby’s calloused fingers worshipping and rubbing over his pathetic cock instead… and it’s that exact thought that makes something in our very faded out Dennis feel uncharacteristically hotblooded.

His free hand lazily ventures towards the nightstand that he thinks he left his phone atop of earlier that night, he almost whimpers in disappointment when he can’t feel the familiar material of his phone case but soon relaxes when his fingers brush over the sleek case.

He lets out a quiet sigh of satisfaction before hazily opening up his phone, his thumb slowly scrolling through his text messages until he stops on a particular contact… making a wave of arousal and excitement rush throughout his already tingly body.

The profile picture doesn’t even have a face to it, a simple ‘R’ held its place instead, (he’s been meaning to change it for a while now). He opened the chat and was greeted with a blurred conversation from about two days ago, something about “taking breaks…” yada yada… “you’re doing good…” whatever.

His breath hitches softly when he finally dips a finger beneath his pants plus his boxers before pulling it down just enough to let his aching cock spring free and gently slap against his abdomen, causing a hushed gasp and a soft delighted shiver that runs through his very being.

Dennis has to stop his head from spinning when he wraps a shaky hand around his hard throbbing length and begins to pump his fist at a brutally slow pace, a low moan breaks free at the delicious friction his hand gives him.

He almost loses himself completely to the pleasure of his hand stroking his leaky cock before he’s reminded why he was so unfathomably excited in the first place, his phone is still open to his and Robby’s chats… his tongue laps over his pretty pink lips before tapping on the camera icon next to the text bar. Dennis mewls at the sight of himself, one little tear starts to slip from the corner of his big blue eyes at the overwhelming need to just let himself cum.

His canine gently sinks into the plush flesh of his bottom lip as he presses on the red circle and then begins to pick up the pace, his grip is tighter and his hips start to lightly buck up to meet his hand eagerly.

A broken yet muffled moan erupts from him at the delightful sensation, his brows pinch together as his head loosely falls back against his pillow in pure bliss… then his lips slightly part, allowing his sweet shaky whimpers and light needy moans to slip into the room.

Pleasured tears pool into his eyes and cloud his vision as he continues his rough desperate strokes, he can’t help the way the muscles in his abdomen gently clench and the way he keenly arches his back when the pad of his thumb starts to caress over his flushed sticky tip; almost making him lose the grip on his phone completely.

“Dr.Robby…” he sobs out breathlessly, his mind swimming endlessly with dirty thoughts about the older man that made his cock drip and his moans continue to only grow louder.

“Want you to touch me, fuuck- need you to make me cum please- oh god, please…” Dennis whines out urgently, followed by a miserable cry… if he didn’t cum in the next two minutes he was seriously about to start bawling.

He reluctantly stops the recording, then swiftly sends it off to Robby, he knows that his attending is probably going to open it in the morning and fire him over text…won’t even give him a chance to explain how absolutely zooted he was and for some reason in this haze, needed to jerk off to the nasty fantasies he has about his boss.

Dennis hastily tosses his phone to the side on his duvet, his hand makes quick work of roughly pumping his cock with quick flicks of his wrists while his other now free hand slips under his sleep shirt and travels up towards his chest where he finds his hardened nipple and harshly tweaks it, causing him to squeak and little desperate tears to start sliding down his cheeks as his hips twitch helplessly from the intense pleasure.

A small buzz comes from beside him, he almost doesn’t even bother with it… he’s already on the brink of orgasm and dear god he needs to cum.

But… curiosity gets the better of him, his head lazily turns to the side where his phone lays; his eyesight is slightly blurred by unshed tears and the high he’s still enduring but he thinks he can sort of make out the contact name. Dennis puffs out a small annoyed huff before retracting his hand from underneath his shirt and reaches out to grab his phone, he fumbles with it for a bit before bringing it close enough to his face to see who could’ve possibly-

Robby: “So pretty baby <3”

Immediately after, a loud broken sob of pure orgasmic bliss graces the air as Dennis’s balls suddenly tighten and release urgently before abrupt ropes upon ropes of warm milky cum pulses out of his thick cock and onto his pale clenching stomach, fat tears run down his cheeks and onto the pillow beneath his head as his hand fists the white sheets beside him while he writhes and cries throughout his stupefying orgasm.

He whimpers breathlessly as he rides out the rest of his orgasm, his hand gently squeezing the base of his slowly softening cock while his brows unfurrow and his body relaxes in the aftershocks. His eyes sleepily flick over towards his phone for a moment before he slowly grabs it and starts to type back to Robby…

“Plz don’t fire me :(“

robby's still riding the high of whitaker's words as he stumbles into his apartment, the twenty minute walk from work doing nothing to clear his mind. "wow, you smell really good right now." the words were innocent enough, but he couldn't help the way they fed straight into his ego. dennis had caught robby at the end of his shift, speaking softly as robby had tugged his scrub top off, leaving him in his sweat soaked undershirt. the naïve words shot straight to his cock, his entire face and neck turning a deep red. robby tugged his hoodie on desperately trying to rush home before anyone noticed him chubbed up near the lockers. once he had all of his things, he awkwardly said his goodbyes, practically rushing out of the emergency room and making his way home. he doesn't even bother with dinner yet, making a beeline to his bedroom once his shoes are off and bag is on the floor.

the belt buckle hits his bedroom floor with a soft clang and his hoodie soon follows. he makes his way to his bed, turning on his bedside lamp and rummaging through the drawer. he finds a small bottle of lube, holding it in his hands to warm it up for a moment before tossing it on the bed. robby feels his cock swell in his boxers as dennis’ words bounce around in his brain. he lets out a soft sigh, climbing onto his bed and nestling himself against the pillows.

he whimpers quietly as he runs his hand over his cock, still trapped in the confines of his boxers. robby tugs his shirt off, setting it next to his head. the sweet smell of his sweat fills his nose as he digs the heel of his palm into his cock, reveling in the friction. a moan rumbles at the back of robby's throat and he frees his cock, starting to feel impatient. a small dribble of cum pools on his stomach, sticking to the small thatch of hair on his tummy. he kicks his boxers off, tossing them to the other side of his bed. he grabs the lube popping it open and pouring some into his hand before finally touching his dick, hissing softly at the contact.

the mix of precum and lube coats his cock as he strokes himself. he fists himself, thinking of how sincere dennis was earlier, actually commenting on the smell of his sweat. he had always appreciated his musk, especially after a long day at work, but the sweet words of the ms4 heightens his love for the stench. that combined with the fact that he had forgone deodorant that morning makes the compliment that much more erotic for robby. he whines, blindly reaching for his shirt with his left hand. he grabs it, desperately bringing it to his nose as he takes a big whiff. the scent of his skin and sweat scorches in his gut, and his cock leaks over his fingers. he shudders softly, pushing his shirt deeper into his face.

"f-fuck me..." robby groans, squeezing his cock as he strokes. heat pools in his gut at an alarming pace and he reluctantly lets go, his cock bobbing angrily as he backs away from the edge of pleasure. he squeezes his eyes shut, pushing his sweaty shirt further into his face as he thinks of dennis. robby imagines the boy smelling him, inhaling his stench and his cock weeps, cum collecting on his stomach. he slowly trails his hand back down, and a soft schlick noise fills the room as he brings his other hand up cautiously, tweaking his nipple roughly. robby chokes on a gasp as his hips jerk, seeking friction that’s unavailable. robby leaves his shirt laying on his face, his teeth holding it as he cups his balls. soft whines fill the air as he fondles himself, his thumb and forefinger rolling his nipple as sparks shoot down his spine.

the nub is soon abandoned as he drags his fingernails down his chest, picturing dennis below him. “oh fuck… dennis…” he moans softly, wrapping his fingers back around his cock. in his mind, it’s dennis at the end of his bed, smiling that cockeyed smile as he strokes robby’s dick. heat scorches his veins, the shame of thinking this way about his inferior making it that much hotter for him.

his strokes pick up, desperation flooding his gut as he nears his orgasm. in a moment of realization, his eyes snap open, and he desperately reaches for his boxers, stroking himself steadily. the grey shirt that was previously on his face, drops to the bed as robby flops back, bringing his used underwear to his nose. he inhales deeply, the pungent smell of his workday and sweat flowing through his body. he moans, the strong, heady aroma fueling his desire as he works his fist up and down his cock.

robby pictures dennis sniffing with him, the younger man’s hand wrapped around his cock. “you-you smell sooo good sir.” he’d whimper. the moan that escapes robby’s mouth can only be described as pathetic, thinking about all the times dennis meekly called him sir with purely respectful intentions. he rubs his thumb on his frenulum and feels his balls draw tight.

what seals the deal for robby is thinking about dennis asking him to smell his boxers, the words probably sounding so sweet and saccharine falling from his mouth. he takes one final inhale, and his hips stutter as he finally cums, gasps scratching their way from his throat. robby lays limp on his bed, his lungs trying to get back on track as the cum dries over his knuckles and lower stomach. he sighs to himself, grabbing his t-shirt from earlier, wiping his hand and tummy before tossing it towards the hamper.

robby lies there for a moment, taking a heavy breath before willing his body to move. he takes his boxers and moves to the hamper, tossing them in, along with his shirt. his footsteps barely register against the hardwood as he makes his way to his bathroom, desperately needing a shower. he showers with efficiency, almost as if he was trained to do so. he ignores how his cock aches, and he pushes the thoughts of dennis far from his mind. once he's decided he's clean enough, he turns the water off, grabbing a towel to dry himself off. he sighs, running the towel over his face before bringing it to his bedroom, dropping it in the hamper. robby moves to his bureau, silently grabbing another pair of boxers before sliding them over his hips and making his way out to the kitchen.

the refrigerator light beams towards robby as he stares at his almost empty fridge. he quickly grabs his takeout leftovers, nuking them before digging in. his mind drifts to the blond farmer boy, dennis’ competency and understanding of his job causing his neck to flush. he drags his large hand down his face, and he forces himself to scroll facebook, an app he rarely uses, to get his mind off the younger man. he sighs as he sees another med school peer of his has gotten married, and he shuts his phone off, washing his dishes and putting them away.

robby begrudgingly treks to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face again, before making his way to his bedroom once more. the inside of his cheek finds its way between his canines, him nibbling lightly as he lazily makes his bed presentable before climbing in. robby sets the lube back on his nightstand, deciding it can be taken care of tomorrow, and he stretches to shut the lamp off. he makes himself comfortable in the mess of blankets, ignoring the guilt creeping into his brain once more. with a soft sigh, he closes his eyes, deciding that the knowledge of him jerking off to his inferior stays between him and whatever higher power may be out there.

“right. right.” he nods slowly and drags his hand over his mouth, looking over his shoulder at all your friends. most of them are already in pajamas, little sleep shorts and tiny tank tops, and they're already doing all the stereotypical girl sleepover shit chris thought only happened in movies, like braiding each other’s hair and pillow fighting.

“hey,” you frown and place your hand on chris's arm to regain his attention. “that's not a problem, is it?”

“no! no.” he answers a little too quickly. 

“we're gonna have so much fun!” you give him an excited hug, and chris takes a sharp breath. you're not wearing a bra under your sleep shirt, and he can feel your tits pressing against his chest. this is gonna be a long fucking night.

“you need to get into your pajamas!” you exclaim, tugging him into the nearest bathroom.

chris sighs and sets his backpack down on the counter, pulling out a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tshirt that looks identical to the one he's already wearing. the two of you stand there looking expectantly at each other, until he raises an eyebrow and gestures to the door.

“oh! you want privacy. i'll just turn around!” you grin cheerfully and turn your back to him. “sorry, me and the girls usually just change in front of each other.”

“yeah, well, i’m not one of the girls.” chris mutters as he drops his jeans to the floor.

“tonight you are! are there any activities you wanna do?”

chris wants to say make it through the night without getting a visible erection, but he just opts for, “as long as there's food, i'm good.”

“totally. well, i guess me and the girls were kind of thinking… only if you'd be up for it, of course…”

chris frowns. whatever you're about to ask him, it can't possibly be good.

“can we do your makeup?” 

oh. “uh… i guess so? why, though?”

“because it's super fun, and you'd look really cute. and it's super fun!”

“are you drunk already?” 

you don't like his accusatory tone, so you take a peek over your shoulder. “are you in your pajamas yet?”

he has been for a minute now, so you drag him out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen. “guys, he said yes!”

“oh, yay!” one of your friends exclaims.

“stay here.” you say to him before rushing to your room to grab your makeup bag. the other girls push chris into a seat, and when you return with the makeup, they all start grabbing products.

each girl takes a turn for every step, and for reasons unbeknownst to chris, they're all deciding to sit on his lap while they do it. it's a small chair, so he has to hold onto their waists to keep them steady, and he's really struggling to hold himself together. they’re all speaking so gently to him as they swipe fluffy brushes or soft sponges across his face. the girl who does his eye makeup tells him to look down while she works, which brings his eyes in direct contact with her tits. fuck.

the last girl swipes gloss over his lips, and you step forward to squeeze his cheeks together. “doesn't he look so cute, guys?”

“adorable!”

“so fucking cute.”

his cheeks burn at the attention, and at the fact that he probably looks fucking stupid right now, but before he can get up to scrub his face in the bathroom, you're dragging him up by his wrist again and leading everyone to sit in the centre of the room.

“who wants to play some games?” you ask.

general noises of assent come from everyone in the room, apart from chris, who sits there tight-lipped. there's a glint in your eye he just doesn't trust.

“what are you guys up for? spin the bottle? truth or dare?”

“let’s do a drinking game!” one of your friends shouts, and a few others nod and hum in agreement.

“okay… how about truth or drink, then?” that seems to get people going, so you turn to your friend violet with a mischievous grin.

“violet. what’s the longest you’ve gone without having sex?”

she hums in thought for a second. “i think the longest i’ve gone… maybe six months?” she laughs. “you gotta make the questions harder if you want people to drink, babe.”

you smile and roll your eyes. “alright, fine. since you're such a pro, you ask someone a question.”

violet scans the room for a minute before her eyes land on chris.

“chris!” she smiles innocently. he can already feel his face turning red as all eyes fix on him. “hmm… what's your most shameful fantasy?”

that question brings forth a few scattered giggles, and chris shakes his head and immediately reaches for a shot glass. “i'm keeping that to myself, sorry, everyone.”

“pussy!” you yell as violet pats you on the back with a smug grin on her face.

“that's just how it's done, babe.”

a few rounds and filthy questions later, the attention is back on chris as some redhead he doesn't recognise chooses to ask him.

“chris…” she pauses to think for a second. “what's your favourite position?” 

if chris's face wasn't red as a tomato before, it definitely is now. a collective “ooo” sound fills the room as everyone awaits his response. he really wouldn't like to answer this, but he doesn't want to get blackout drunk, so he has to start answering some questions.

“uh… i — i don't… um, cowgirl?”

his voice is meek as he forces out an answer, and after a brief pause, the room erupts into laughter. he tries to laugh along with everyone, but from across the room, you can tell how embarrassed he is. your eyes narrow slightly as you study his expressions. 

when he's around his guy friends, he's the epitome of confidence, constantly bragging about how many ‘bitches’ are in his DMs, begging to suck his dick. but now, he's flustered, covered in blush and glitter, and too embarrassed to say the word cowgirl. it's a welcome change, you think.

“guys, stop laughing!” you butt in, barely holding back a laugh yourself. “he could've said, like, prone bone or something.” that brings forth another outburst of laughter, and this time chris is actually involved.

people get braver and drunker as the game progresses, making their questions even dirtier. chris has no choice but to keep drinking, and by the time you stop the game, he can barely feel his face.

“anybody wanna watch a movie?” you ask. the girls agree, and everybody gets up to grab snacks and claim a seat on the couch.

chris can't bear to be in this makeup any longer, so he goes to the bathroom to scrub his skin clean, and by the time he gets back, you're already sandwiched on the couch in between two of your friends.

he sighs and tries to sit as close to you as he can, just separated by a couple of girls. the couch soon fills up, and a blonde girl chris doesn't recognise walks in from the kitchen a minute later.

“oh, no! am i too late for a seat?” she whines in disappointment. 

you sit up to scan the room, and gesture casually at chris. “you can sit on chris's lap. he has, like, unfairly thick thighs.”

chris can barely make eye contact with the girl as she smiles innocently at him. “oh, you wouldn't mind, would you?”

he forces himself to reciprocate the smile and shakes his head. “nah, you're all good.”

she positions herself on his lap, pressing her back against his chest and slotting her legs between his slightly spread ones. she turns to look at him over her shoulder. “thanks! i’m ellie, by the way.”

“yeah, nice to meet ya.” he keeps his hands firmly at his sides and waits for her to turn around again before letting out a deep sigh. how the fuck is he gonna sit through this whole movie?

the girl closest to the lightswitch flicks it off, letting the tv illuminate the room as your friends settle on some cheesy rom com. a few minutes into the movie, chris finds himself calming down. having ellie on his lap isn't so bad after all.

that is, until she starts squirming around on top of him. it starts gradually, with her only moving every few minutes, but it quickly becomes more frequent as she struggles to make herself comfortable.

chris risks a glance down at his lap to see that her shorts have ridden up until practically her whole butt is on display. he can feel his cock rising in his sweats, and he has to bite down on his lip to avoid making any noise.

after some more shuffling, ellie lets out a small sound of frustration and turns around to whisper in his ear.

“chris, is there something in your pocket? i’m just finding it hard to get comfy, cause something's digging into my butt.”

chris thinks he could die right now, on the spot. what can he even say to the poor girl?

“uh… yes, but i can't move it. sorry.”

“hm?” she reaches around to try and grab at the offending object, instead squeezing firmly at the outline of chris’s dick through his pajama pants. “ohhh…” she lets out a soft giggle, quiet enough for just him to hear.

chris knows he should be mortified right now, but his mind is just a little too fuzzy to think straight, and before he realises what he's doing, he places his hand on top of hers, guiding her to rub it through his clothes.

to chris's dismay, ellie can’t stifle her giggle this time, grabbing the attention of everyone else in the room. someone pauses the movie, and you speak up.

“guys, what's going on? we're trying to watch the movie.”

once everyone's eyes land on ellie and chris, most of them gasp, and one girl flicks the light on to expose the two of them.

“what the fuck?” 

“holy shit!”

“guys, it's not my fault!” ellie giggles. “chris got hard from me sitting on him, and he just started moving my hand like this.”

“chris, is that true?” you ask accusingly. 

“n-no! it's… i wasn't… i didn't…” he whines in frustration, unable to get his thoughts in order due to the combination of his drunkenness and the warmth and gentle pressure he's getting from ellie’s hand, which she still hasn’t moved. 

“that's gross.”

“seriously, so weird.”

that doesn't stop everyone from crowding round to get a closer look, and before chris realises what's going on, ellie is standing up off his lap while various hands grab at his pajamas and boxers.

“hey, wait… stop it…” chris mumbles, closing his thighs and covering his half-clothed dick with his hands. his half-hearted protests don't convince anyone, and soon his pants and underwear are pooled around his ankles. his cock rests against his tummy, the tip leaking and flushed a shade of red even brighter than his cheeks.

everyone's eyes are on his dick now, and general sounds of approval fill the room.

“it's cute!”

“totally.”

“i don't know, i prefer them longer.”

as he feels an unfamiliar hand wrap around his cock, he blinks open his weary eyes in search of you, a familiar and comforting face amongst all this confusion. 

he flinches as he feels you lean over his shoulder from behind the couch to whisper in his ear, “you're okay. you can be good for us, right?”

“yeah…” he nods slowly, turning his head to look up at you. you squeeze his cheeks as he looks at you with his wide puppy eyes. you can't quite believe you have him in this position, naked and sprawled out on the couch in front of all your friends, looking up at you with pure, drunken adoration in his eyes. 

the first girl, your friend louise, is stroking chris's cock at an agonisingly slow pace, which makes his thighs twitch and squeeze together. that prompts a collective “awww” and chris feels a few hands gently rubbing his thighs and pulling them open again.

you're still stroking his hair encouragingly as another girl yells, “i want a turn!”

suddenly a new hand is on his cock, stroking him at a much faster pace, much more rough than he's ready for. he squeals, a sound he doesn't think he's ever produced before, as his hips buck and his back arches.

you frown and lean forward. “hey, gentle, okay? he's not a toy, phoebe.”

phoebe pouts and slows down her strokes. “looks like a toy to me.”

chris huffs at that, but he knows he can't argue. just look at him.

the intense pleasure makes his mouth drop open slightly, and before long, he can feel a girl's fingers forcing their way between his lips. he doesn't protest, but instinctively closes his mouth around her digits and starts to suck.

he hears a girl gasp, presumably the owner of said fingers, who exclaims, “oh my god, he's so cute!”

“right?” another girl agrees. “i just wanna put him in my pocket and keep him for myself.”

“i know, he's like a little puppy or something.”

chris whines and sucks harder. he's never been spoken about in this way, but it's making him feel a different type of pleasure than what he's used to.

just as he thinks the combined words and touches might finally make him cum, he hears a quieter voice say, “can i try?” and phoebe’s hand is removed from his cock.

he whines over the loss of contact, a sound that is quickly cut off by the sensation of a pair of lips kissing up the length of his dick. he whimpers and bucks his hips again, muttering pleasepleaseplease under his breath, until he feels her pause and pull away. 

you notice your friend's expression as she hesitates. “chris, wait a sec. you okay, mia?”

she nods. “just… i've never actually done this before…” 

chris opens his eyes to look at the girl in front of him. she's nervously chewing her bottom lip, looking over chris's shoulder at you for guidance.

he sits up slightly. “you want me to help? c'mon, it's easy,” he grips the base of his cock and directs it towards her. “y’see the tip there? can you try just giving it a little lick? like i’m ice cream or something.”

she smiles and gives his tip a few kitten licks, collecting the precum that’s been leaking for some time now.

“yeah, good girl. can you suck on it for me? don't have to take any more than the tip for now. that's it.”

he sighs in relief as her lips wrap around his tip, sucking gently as her hand wraps around his base.

“yeah, that's it, mia.” another one of your friends smiles encouragingly at her.

she gets a little braver and starts to take more of him into her mouth. chris whines, covering his face with his hands as he squirms beneath her.

“oh my god, i can't… it's too—” he whimpers and tangles his hand in her hair, trying to force her head down before one of your friends yells, “hey! don't fucking push her!”

before he realises what he's done, both his arms are being lifted and pinned behind his head, and someone even risks a slap on his cheek.

chris has never been slapped during anything sexual before, and to his surprise, the sudden impact has him spilling out into mia's mouth, his breath shuddering as he tries to figure out what the hell just happened.

“say sorry to mia.” chris hears your chastising voice behind him, and he opens his eyes to look at the girl in front of him. her eyes are wide with shock, cum dripping from her lips and chin, but to chris's relief, there's a satisfied smile on her face.

“i’m… i’m so sorry… i swear i don't normally—”

“it's okay. i'm sure you can make it up to me.” her voice is still shy, but there's something in her easy forgiveness that chris doesn't quite trust.

it's not long until he's laying on his back on the couch with mia straddling his face, devouring her pussy like his life depends on it. at this point, his life might actually depend on it. your friends are clearly insane.

mia’s whining and holding on to the hands of two of your friends for support. they're standing around her, praising her with sweet voices for being so brave.

chris is thoroughly enjoying himself, as is she. chris can tell by the way she grinds on top of his face, slowly inching her body forward until his nose and mouth are fully enveloped in her dripping folds. 

he can't breathe anymore, but he can't bring himself to care. he probably should, because the combination of the lack of oxygen and the amount he's had to drink is starting to make him feel a little… lightheaded.

his eyes fly open and he sits up, coughing and spluttering with a force that racks through his body. he lifts his hand to his mouth to find it covered in cum, presumably from your friend, whose name he can’t bring himself to recall. his head is pounding, and he glances down to find a puddle of cum on his stomach. what happened? 

“oh, guys, he's awake.” chris hears a voice from the kitchen, and soon everyone comes walking back over to the couch.

“what—” chris's first attempt at speaking is completely inaudible as his throat is completely sore and croaky. he coughs and tries again. “what happened?”

“oh, you passed out while mia was riding your face.” one of your friends volunteers. “you were only out for, like… an hour?”

chris glances down at the state of his stomach. “is that all?”

you crouch down next to where he's sitting and gently rub his shoulder. “don't worry about any of that, okay?”

“but… did you guys do something to me?” you can tell chris is starting to get a little panicked, so you sit next to him and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“no, puppy. you came untouched after you passed out. it was really cute.”

chris frowns and lifts a hand to his pounding head. he feels extremely vulnerable right now, naked and confused on your couch with all of your friends looking down sat him in pity. and since when were you calling him puppy?

one of your friends walks in from the kitchen holding two pills and a bottle of water. 

“open.” she says, kneeling in front of him. chris frowns but does as she says anyway. he can definitely do this himself, but he doesn’t mind so much once he’s swallowed the pills and your friend calls him a good boy. he can already feel his headache dissipating and his eyelids starting to feel heavier.

“you want help getting cleaned up?” your voice is so, so soft, and chris feels like he could get lost in it forever. he looks up at you and nods like you just offered to save his life, and before he knows it, all of your friends are fussing over him, wiping him up with towels and kissing all over his body.

chris is too weak to move. he just tilts his head back and lets it all happen to him, looking up at you with sleepy eyes. once he's clean, everyone sits around him, including you, enveloping him in warmth, and he feels himself starting to drift off.

“can you say thank you to everyone?” you prompt, lifting his chin with your hand.

“mm… thanks, guys…” he mumbles.

“best sleepover ever, right?”

“uh huh…”

guys i was gonna add pegging but i was too scared

You assumed so when he finally got the courage to invite you back to his place after everything that happened. Of course, you'd been before. That was how his mom grew to love you, and soon used that against him in their past fight when she'd claimed he wasn't good enough for you. Just recalling it made your stomach twist.

On the walk there after school, his guitar strung over his back and his hoodie sitting on him comfortably, his fingers are unusually tightly knit with yours. You're not sure whether it's from his nerves or he simply just loved you that much, even though you're sure it's the former. Either way, something had been on his mind, and you could tell with every squeeze and clench of his hand on yours. It was just a matter of letting that come out on his own accord.

"I , uh, didn't tell them." Ziggy breaks the silence unexpectedly, "that, uh, that you'd be over. I'm kind of just hoping we miss them and they don't find out. So."

"Your parents?" Your own eyebrows furrow in a mix of surprise and concern at the fact, "they don't know I'm coming over? I don't want you to get in trouble because of me."

"I get in trouble for doing anything. You know I couldn't care less about what my parents think." He scoffs, "and if they love you as much as they say, then they shouldn't mind. They'll probably be elated to see anyone but me over. You know, since she likes to take in any kid that isn't her own and act like they're her second shot at being a good parent."

That makes you wonder if everything has really been resolved like he'd made it out to be, or whether he was only saying that not to worry you.

"Don't say that," you squeeze his hand, lips curling into a slight frown, "it'll be fine. I've snuck in past them before. Hell, remember that one week I came over every night when we first started dating and they never caught on?"

You hope the reminder of the time is enough to lift his mood as much as it does yours. The time when Ziggy would sneak you in late at night up to his room because he either had to get input on a song, study, or have you proofread his lyrics. That, or he'd give in and just say what the true reason was when he lacked the patience: he wanted to make out and be alone with you.

Obviously. Why would he do anything but that?

He scoffs, smiling slightly, "of course I remember that. I'm just kind of surprised you did, too."

"Oh, it was only mildly terrifying. I didn't wanna get caught! Your parents are..." you trail off, shaking your head. He gets the memo perfectly fine.

His parents were, in his words, "manipulative and narcissistic." And from everything you heard about them, particularly his mom, it didn't seem far fetched. It didn't sound like his dad was around enough to cause as many issues, always working. But that was it's own issue alone, and he always made it clear when he'd rant about them to you.

"Yeah, well, if you get caught, I get in trouble. You'll be fine, being an angel and all." Ziggy shrugs, glancing over at you, "my mom is never right, but she is about you. How good you are."

You sigh softly at the words, unsure of how to reply. Thankfully, he continues before you have to.

"And I never admit that she's right. Because she never is. About anything. So never let anyone know I said that, and especially not her. Her ego will never recover, and I'm serious," he warns, thumb brushing over the back of your hand, "like, very."

"I won't say a word." You promise, shaking your head incessantly, "your secret is safe with me. They always are."

He nods back, quieting again before he stares down at the sidewalk. You can only imagine what's going on in his mind. Falling into rhythm with his steps, you lean into his side.

"It'll be fine." You feel the need to reassure him, "we'll just go up to your room and figure it out from there. We know I can fit in your closet so... If all else fails, there's always that."

That took you both back to the time you'd been up all night playing guitar with Ziggy as he taught you one of his songs, hands guiding yours. Until his mom called out and came upstairs, giving you enough of a warning for you to urgently rush to his closet and hide. Though it was funny, he hates the mention of it because he still to this day hates that he ever made you do that. But that doesn't mean you ever stopped bringing it up.

"Shut up, I'm not hiding you in my closet again like you're some kind of secret." Ziggy scoffs at the idea, "I'll just turn my streaming light on outside my door so they can't be mad if they come in and see anything. Because they shouldn't be coming in at all. It'll give me a case to argue."

"Right, because your parents are just so good at boundaries." You shake your head softly, "but fine. I'll go with it. You know them better than I do."

"Unfortunately." He nods in agreement, and you can tell he's fighting to not roll his eyes.

Your main concern is that you coming over will only bring back the tensions from before, if not worse. Or that, maybe, just maybe, they never really went down like he pretended they did. You had your suspicions. Ziggy had a tendency to do that and a track record to go with it. He thought that pretending things didn't exist meant they would go away on their own—including conflict.

But before you can let that ruminate in your mind, he's tugging you closer to his side You only understand why when you look up to see you've made it back to his place, two cars parked in the driveway. He keeps you close as he walks up the path and onto the porch, turning to face you.

"Well?" He asks, looking to you to gauge how you were feeling.

"Lead the way." Despite your own nerves, you rather him not pick up on it. Even though you're sure he does, his brief nod means otherwise. He doesn't question you often, and this was one of those moments that you were thankful for his lack of curiosity.

Opening the door without causing a scene, Ziggy sighs and steps inside first. He hesitates, debating on something, before turning to you again.

"C'mon. Leave your shoes on, so my mom doesn't see them. As if she pays that much attention." He huffs, "we'll just go up to my room."

You're cautious to speak downstairs, so you simply nod back. You rather just get to his room and go from there. Which, now, you two do.

He takes your hand again, dragging you upstairs as you trail behind him. It's chilly and tense, the majority of the house, so you can only hope his room is as stark of a contrast as you remember it to be.

Treading down the hallway, he opens the door to his room and ushers you inside first with a gentle hand splayed on the small of your back.

Closing the door behind him, he flicks on his streaming light that bleeds bright red light from under the door. Then, he sighs with obvious relief and slips his guitar off of his back. Seeing him relax makes you feel like you can do the same.

His room is a little neater than usual, likely because he expected your company. The bed's already made, his desk setup is a little less cluttered, and the lit up sign with his initials that hung above his bed were already on, serving as "ambient lighting" as he liked to call it.

"Sneaking you in here is either gonna be the stupidest or smartest thing I've done in a while." He snorts, hands finding your waist as he presses a kiss to your forehead before slipping your backpack off of your shoulders for you.

"Wow, you're feeling like a gentleman today, aren't you? Maybe you need to be under pressure more often." You joke, helping him get the weight off your back as you carefully lean it on the wall.

"I'm always a gentleman!" He scoffs, feigning offense, "I even got down on the sidewalk to tie your shoes for you today. The sidewalk. I'm the walking definition of a gentleman." Arguing, he wraps his arms back around your waist and clings.

"I know, I know..." You smile, loving the way so little teasing had such a big effect on him, "I mean, you even snuck me into your own home. How chivalrous." Your continuation makes him groan.

"Shut up. I had to." He refutes, lips parting, "either I ask and my mom breathes down our necks and refuses to let me close the stupid door or I risk getting caught at the expense of having any privacy with my girlfriend. One of those sounds a lot more rewarding, doesn't it?"

"You made it sound like everything was... Civil, at least." You comment, eyes finding his and taking in the sight of his fluttering, long lashes.

"Yeah. Civil for us. The bar's low anymore. We're kind of always just waiting to push each other over the edge." He shrugs before taking hold of you and pulling you with him to his bed, "c'mon. We're not here to talk about that. I have songs I wanna play you and things I wanna tell you and attention I wanna get from you." He rambles.

Letting him seat you on his bed, you get comfortable by leaning up against his pillows and watching him unzip his guitar case he'd worn all day. Pulling out his guitar, he sets it by the foot of his bed before lying down beside you.

"But first..." He murmurs, looking up at you from where he lie below you on the bed, kissing your clothed shoulder and resting a hand on your hip, "I haven't kissed you in too long."

"We kiss everyday." Laughing, your fingers card through his long messy hair, "and it's only been a week since we were together alone at my place."

"I know! A whole week!" He groans at your teasing before leaning into it, "oh, the humanity." Head landing lightly on your shoulder with a dramatic sigh, he feigns pain. A reminder of just how much a dork he really was, and how endearing it was to witness it.

The sight of his head so comfortably on your lap and his hair splayed across your chest is heartwarming, and you're trying to tug him up for a kiss before you even know what you're doing.

You can't name a time he's turned down a kiss considering the way he keens whenever you show that you actually want him. He gets those wide eyes that rush to soften and play cool like you couldn't feel his heart beat thumping against your chest when you pressed flush against one another.

Cupping his cheek, you lean down to lock your lips with his messily. His tongue is the first to slip into your mouth, welcoming a more passionate and sensual kiss than you intended. Though, you kiss back with the same fervor, humming when his hands find your jaw and trace the skin there. Coordination is at the back of your mind as you two focus only on the feel of each other.

"I missed this," he murmurs between greedy kisses to your lips, "missed having you in my bed."

"Don't make it sound weirder than it is," you playfully nip his lower lip, his implications making you flush with embarrassment, "I missed coming over, too."

Your wary confirmation makes him grin as he stares down at you from his place hovering above you. There's so much love in his eyes, and you're not sure what he'll do next—he's unpredictable.

"I mean it, though," he doubles down, aquiline nose nudging yours before he presses your foreheads together, "I missed this. It's not the same anywhere else. I just like having you right here. Taking up my space. And I don't know why, but it just feels so..."

"Right?" You add, nodding against him, "because it does. Being right here—it feels right."

"Yeah. It feels right." He repeats after you, "like... I don't have to feel bad that your parents are in the same house as us. Like I'm doing something wrong by kissing you under their roof. But with my parents? My house?" Trailing off, he leans down to nudge your jaw with his nose before pressing a wet kiss there, "I couldn't care less about any of it. It's like a big 'fuck you' to them. They deserve it."

It's hard to pay attention to any of his ranting or offhanded remarks when he's kissing you the way he is. The feeling of him sucking hickeys into your neck that he always plays off, saying he didn't know where they came from.

"Shh..." You hush him quietly, gently, simply pulling him closer to you by the back of his head. A silent plead of don't stop that he knows all too well.

He listens to you so easily, eyes flitting from yours back down to your neck as he delves back in. His body is flush on top of yours, hands on either side of your waist to keep him steady while he focuses on satiating your own needs with his marking.

"We haven't done anything in so long." Ziggy looks up at you with soft eyes, breaking his vow of silence because the boy really doesn't know how to be quiet, "when we have the money to live together, which we will, I'll be famous for my music 'n I can get you anything you'd ever want. And you'll be working doing whatever you want because money won't be a worry. Doesn't that sound perfect?" He gets out between muffled kisses down the bare column of your throat.

It's nothing but the pipe dream of two 18 year old's with dreams far too high for a town in Indiana no one outside the state knew the name of. You're both aware of it, but letting reality settle in is too painstakingly devastating, albeit inevitable. Ziggy's so sure of himself though, that he'll be different. And in a way, with the things he's already done and accomplished, he is.

But you're thinking too hard and it's taking you out of the moment far too much, given the compromising position you're in.

"Tera perfect." You nod softly, barely registering it all as you softly exhale. His kisses aren't enough to have you writhing beneath him, but they're enough to make you dizzy and hot and flushed.

"You really like that word, don't you?" He groans at that, cheeks undoubtedly pinker than before. It's always so playfully mocking coming from your lips, and he can't tell whether he loves or hates it. He then sarcastically comments, "I wonder who taught you that one."

"Mmh," you hum, lower lip drawn between your teeth, "I wonder..." A smile finds your face when he presses a peck to your lips before returning his affection down to your collarbone.

Then—a knock.

"...Shit, shit," Ziggy blinks, breathing out against your collarbone before raising his voice and turning away from you as to not pierce your ears, "I'm streaming, mom! I'll be out later!"

There's only a few seconds between him looking back down at you and the sound of a door creaking open, startling him even further as he moves off of you and onto the bed beside you. In the adrenaline of the moment, neither of you were equipped with a plan in the event that you did get caught.

Your shared, flushed cheeks paired with messy hair can't look good to his mom who's stood in the doorway, hand frozen on the doorknob. The first thing you do is look to gauge Ziggy's reaction.

"Mom, the light was on—! You know you can't come in when it is, that's the rule!" He groans, eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he stares daggers at her. You can't say you've been caught in the middle of a fight, yet, and you hope you aren't about to be.

"Oh, wow, Ziggy." His mom's eyes narrow at him through her glasses. You hadn't seen this side of her before. You'd only ever heard of it until now. Her eyes flicker over to you behind him, less hostility in them, but it returns when she refocuses on him.

"Real nice. Because this proved my point at all that you would ever be mature enough for something like a relationship. Sneaking her in behind our backs instead of acting like an adult and being honest." She shakes her head, leaving the door open as she stands tall in the doorway, "and to think I felt like I was too harsh on you." It's a lie, you're sure. Just her way of making his heart race and fists clench.

"You're so fucking dramatic! I knew you'd act like this and that's exactly why I did it." He scoffs, jaw clenching as he sits up on the edge of his bed and leaves you to lie there.

You're not sure what your place in this is—whether you're supposed to speak up or hide away. You settle on the latter for now, not wanting to escalate it any more than it already has on it's own.

"Are we really doing this? In front of my girlfriend?" Ziggy interrupts his mom when he realizes she's nowhere near stopping, "Oh, come on, I'm not fighting with you in front of her. That's bullshit."

Hesitantly, your eyes meet his, catching both the frustration and guilt in his expression when they do. When you go to speak, he gently shakes his head as if telling you he has it under control. Whether that's true or not, you're unsure. But you do know that you're not overstepping.

"Oh, so now you're trying to hide who you really are from her, aren't you? You can't hide it forever, y'know. That's not what makes a healthy relationship! I told you time and time again that you weren't ready for this, but you never just listen to me. Your own mother." His mom refutes, arms crossing over her chest with a look of disapproval directed at him. You watch him finally stand up.

"We're talking downstairs. And she's staying up here." The way he says it like it's fact catches both you and his mom off guard. Then, he trudges past her as if expecting her to follow.

She shoots you a sorrowful look through her glasses that reflect back that red lighting tauntingly, making you want to roll your eyes as soon as she steps out of view. Slumping back against the bed, you bury your face in your hands and sigh.

Had you been too passive? Maybe you should've said something, taken the blame, anything. But Ziggy said not to, so you didn't. Above all, was he gonna be okay after all of this? Should you leave?

There's a lot of time to think. Too much. You stare at his guitar, every string, before turning to look at the posters in his room. You'd looked at them all countless times before. But this time, you were trying to distract yourself with them, reading every word and hoping enough time would pass and your boyfriend would return.

It's safe to say tensions never dulled with his mom like he'd said so. He had a thing for bending the truth and it having consequences, obviously. But now that you were caught in the crossfire you wonder if he'd finally learn his lesson on that. You have your doubts.

You're not sure how much time has passed when you hear the door shut before you see him. Ziggy, with his back to the door and his hand on the doorknob, head falling back against the wood with visible anger written all over him.

Before you speak, he sighs, "don't. Just... I can't."

Deciding to give him the silence he requests, you anxiously gnaw at your lower lip at the sight of him so distressed. Sure, he'd get frustrated. Everyone did. This was a different story, though.

His feet drag over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it before moving to collapse beside you. You take the hint and pull him close to your chest, his head resting against your shoulder on instinct.

"Please tell me I'm nothing like her." He groans vulnerably. It's the first thing you hear, muffled against your skin with little expectation for a real answer. You give him one anyway.

"Nothing. At all. Like, I can't even believe she's your mom most of the time." You sigh, pressing a kiss to his temple and brushing a strand of stray hair away, "do you wanna talk about any of it? Or just..."

"She has problems, is what she has. Serious problems. I'm nothing like her. At least I get my shit together when it's hurting the people around me." He immediately vents at the opportunity, "I'm a teenager who has my shit together more than her. I do more for you than she's ever done for her entire family and she still says I'll never be mature enough."

Running a hand through his hair, nails grazing his scalp soothingly, you nod and listen in silence. It's what he needs, a void to scream into without consequence or judgement. You make for a good listener.

"And she always says you're too good for me. And it really gets on my nerves." He scoffs, nose nudging your throat, "because obviously you're perfect, and yeah, I fuck up, but..."

"But you try. And I fuck up, and I try, too." You complete his sentence for him, "I'm nowhere near perfect."

"You're probably the closest anyone will ever get to it." He retorts, insistently. You can't find it in you to be mad at that.

"I just can't believe she tried to fight with me while you were here." His head shakes in disbelief against your shoulder, voice coming out muffled, "hell, I didn't know if she was gonna bring you into it or not. She kept looking at you like she felt sorry that you have to deal with me and it made me wanna hide you away forever."

"Yeah, but you stood your ground. I know you do that anyway with her, but..." You trail off in thought, remembering how he stood by you earlier, "I appreciated it. She's good at the whole intimidation thing and it made me feel a lot better when you did stand by me the way you did."

"You appreciated it? Well," he sheepishly sneaks his face out from the crook of your neck, "yeah, good. It's kind of my job, though. To take care of you, y'know? You're my top priority. I think... You're more like my family than my real family, anyway."

He flushes under your praise and attention like he always does. But his own praise makes your lips curl up softly and heart stammer in your chest. His words always felt so real, knowing how bad he was at having a filter and deciphering what people really wanted to hear. As a result, he'd say whatever came to mind, acting as an extra layer of honesty. You look down at him, his eyes weary and lips less pouty than before.

"I feel..." His eyes flicker from yours to the ceiling.

It's normally hard to tell whether he's about to burst into tears or scream into the pillow below him, and even harder to tell when his expression is so blank.

"Like hell?" You ask, thumb tracing his flushed cheeks, "I bet."

"Worse." A groan can be heard when he shifts again, frustratedly pulling a throw blanket that lie at the end of his bed over his body as a form of protection against the world.

"I've got you." Softly, you murmur, "I can't see us being bothered anymore as long as I'm here, for what it's worth."

"So just never leave my room again." He sarcastically responds, bordering on genuine, "I could really use a break from everything."

"I don't plan on it." You hum back, reassuringly, "not tonight, at least. I'm all yours, okay?"

His hands tighten around your waist again as he nods in understanding. It hurts you to see him so broken down. You'd always be there for the aftermaths of their quarrels, but never during them. It felt heavy, knowing you saw them at their worst. You can't imagine how he feels with that knowledge swarming his mind.

"...I don't wanna think." He brings the throw blanket closer over him, cringing a little at the next words he musters up the courage to admit, "if I do, I feel like I'm gonna break. And I hate doing that."

The first time he did break down in front of you was one of the hardest nights for the both of you. Day after a fight with his parents, you two were skipping chemistry class together because he just couldn't help it. Hiding under a stairwell just to dab his tears away as he reluctantly sobbed into the fabric of your jacket. It was hard for him to let go because he thought you'd leave.

When you didn't, though? He broke down even harder. And when you let him stay over at your place, he felt so seen. Words were difficult for him, to express what it meant to him. All of that rawness, the honesty—he expressed his love and trust through touch. That night, you fell asleep together for the first time in the comfort of your bed. Ever since, he's resorted to that same scene whenever it gets hard. Lying in bed with you, every creak and shuffling of the covers a reminder of what really mattered.

Watching him sink into the mattress familiarly, you gnaw at your lower lip in thought. Something to distract him...

"You could play that song you wanted to play for me earlier." You hum, "or I could play for you. Whether it'll be good or bad is a totally different story. And you told me you had stuff to talk about from school, no? That's something."

"And if none of that sounds good... We can always just lay here like this and pretend like everything's fine until it actually feels like it is." It's an offer. Probably not the healthiest one, but it's the realistic one. Especially knowing him.

"Is my streaming light still on out there?" He asks, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he pulls away from the crook of your neck.

Peeking over his shoulder, you can see the red light still seeping out from under the door and nod, "still on, yeah. Why, baby?"

He softens a little, sighing, "my mom said that she'll make me take that stupid light down if I'm using it to get away with having sex under her roof. Her words, not mine. But at least I know she won't barge in again, since it sounded like she hated what she saw so much."

"We were just kissing," your fingers fumble with his shirt before admitting, "but... I guess, yeah, still not a good look. I get it."

"Yeah." He nods, "and my dad got involved, too. Started calling us both narcissists again over something about his job that I didn't even know about. Like, fuck, I need to get out of this house."

Your lips find his for a brief kiss and he accepts it with welcome arms, caught off guard but far from unmoving.

"This is all so unfair. And I didn't even get to kiss you like I wanted to earlier. We just got interrupted. I mean, I've been waiting all day just to be alone with you!" He complains, "and now the mood is totally ruined and I'm just pissed off now."

"We can do all of that another time." You shake your head and ease his worries, "when we don't have to worry about being caught or if we're feeling up for it or how much time we have..."

His frustration is visible, understandably so. The way his brows furrow and lips turn into a frown at the idea of waiting when you two had already done so much of it. But you know that it's only fueled by his need for closeness, and while going further would act as a quick and easy way to guarantee that, it wouldn't feel right to treat it like a solution or distraction for everything that happened and how it left him feeling.

"How about this," your fingers find his and curl around them, "today, we make up for lost time. You can play those songs you wanted me to hear. Maybe even stream like you've been talking about doing. Tell me about your week, the bad and the good. Just me and you."

"And next time?" He asks, weighing his options with pursed lips that reflect his reluctance.

"Next time we can do whatever we want, right?" You hum before jokingly swatting his shoulder with a light hand, "which I think I know what you're thinking, like usual."

"Shut up. Can't I just wanna be with my girlfriend?" He defends, sheepish at the call out.

"Now when did I ever say it was a bad thing?" The teasing makes his eyes roll, "c'mon. Get your guitar before we knock it over while making out. I'd rather not have to watch you tune it for an hour when it moves an inch." He watches you sit up and bring him up with you by your hands woven together.

"Hey, you know that I—"

"Guitar." You interrupt, hiding a smile when he listens and parts ways to grab it from by the bed.

"You're horrible. You're lucky I wrote a song about how much I love you for all my fans to hear. They're gonna love it—no, tera love it. But I think you'll love it more. You have to."

"And if I don't?" You tease, amused at the sight of his mood lifting just from grabbing his prized possession and positioning it in his lap with ease. Music always made him feel more in control.

"Then you'd be a liar." He smiles, reaching for his guitar pick on his nightstand and setting it between his teeth gently while he tunes his guitar and strums the strings to test it.

Then, with eager eyes that lock onto yours, "ready?"

A soft nod prompts him to start, the sounds of him playing and even his brief little mess ups warming your heart. He hasn't even begun singing when you're grinning ear to ear and watching him like he hung the stars himself.

He groans, moving to tune his guitar again before going to restart. The look on your face makes him stop in his tracks.

"That better not be you laughing because I messed up. It was just a warm up." He defends, weak under your gaze.

"I'm not laughing! I'm just smiling." You retort, shaking your head, "please keep going?"

"...Fine. No laughing. Promise?" He draws his lower lip between his teeth before you agree, the sight to die for.

"Keep talking and I'll just wanna kiss you even more."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" He snorts.

By now, you wouldn't have even been able to tell how upset he was prior to all this. It's only a momentary distraction, and it would hit again tonight when it got too quiet and you ran out of things to fill the time with, but you'd take this over that any day.

But god, when the hell were you supposed to get any alone time with this boy when it seemed like the universe was so against it?

Michael took a deep, shaky breath, his throat had a huge knot on it, he wanted desperately to cry. His hand held a man's arm as he walked down the village's main street, who didn't fight against his pulling, he had accepted his fate. His hands were tied with thick rope that was burning his wrists from how tight it was, brushing harshly against his soft skin on his wrists. That's why he hated his job sometimes, he wanted to help the king, to help his kingdom, that's why he became a knight, but from time to time he had to take care of the executions.

He never looked when it happened. His job was to take the prisoner to their death, and that's what he did, he did his job as he swore he would do when he got knighted.

The prisoner looked at the wooden steps in front of him with a blank expression on. He had a bruised lip and a punched eye from when he got abducted from his house to be taken to prison. His left eye barely opened from how swollen it got, and he looked like that even though he didn't fight the arrest, if he did, he would probably have lost his eye.

He went upstairs as some people cheered for his demise. An executioner brought him to the middle of the stage, behind a noose. The prisoner looked at it, his feet over a trapdoor. The executioner went behind him with a burlap sack on his hand to put over his face.

Michael's back was turned to the stage, his eyes filled with tears that wanted so bad to go down his face, for a brief moment he glanced back as the people cheered for the death of another witch. A sorcerer for that matter.

William's green eyes met Michael's seconds before the sack was placed over his head. Michael turned back to face forward as the rope was placed on William's neck, his body tensed when he heard the trapdoor opening and the body falling.

A single tear ran down his face, but, like god was listening to him, it started to rain so the tears blended with the rain drops, so he allowed himself to cry quietly for a bit.

And that was it. William Byers was dead.

…

Michael was downtown that day, walking through the town's market. He was looking at the different stands made out of dark wood covered with white or yellowish cloth with different produces and baked goods harvested and made by the citizens.

Finally the winter had ended and the spring bloomed marvelously once again at the king Brenner's kingdom. The peasants were happy that they could finally sell more things to pay their duties to the king. Things got rough during winter, but now it would be better, at least, they hoped it would.

Michael had his hand over the handle of his sword that was sheathed gracefully at his waist. His sword was prettier than a regular knight one, since he became commander, he got a more showy sword, to show people that he was to be respected even more.

Michael still didn't know the difference between respect and fear. One day, he would figure it out.

People would move so he could pass through them. Moms would pull their children out of the way so he could walk. It was nice to be respected.

When he smelled fresh bread his feet simply followed the scent for him, without even having him realize what he was doing, he was simply drawn to it. He got in front of a little stand with a few loaves of bread with a golden top that seemed to be so fluffy to the touch, one of them was cut and steaming, probably that one that got Michael's attention. They were placed in little weaved baskets with white clothes on them. Some of them had patterns on top that looked like leaves.

There was also bigger soda bread that looked like they would tear the roof of your mouth, but it would be worth it.

Also there were two honey cakes, one of them cut in thin slices so people could try. One banana bread and carrot cake stranded side by side, near the soda bread. And, finally, there was a plate filled with nuts biscuits.

The person who was taking care of the stand had their back to their things, they were kneeling facing an alley way that was near the stand, they seemed to be talking with someone.

"Here, take it… it's fine… take it", he said softly.

Michael moved his head a bit and saw that he was holding a carrot, a small one but it was girthy. He noticed that by his side, there was a small wheelbarrow that was what he probably used to carry all those goods to sell that day. There was a big white cloth covering it, but one corner was pulled back, revealing that there were a few products in baskets inside it still. There were a few carrots and, on top of them, he could see there was a little weaved bowl with what seemed to be blueberries.

Something moved in front of the knelt man and Michael saw who he was talking to. Better saying what he was talking to. A little red fox was looking at the man, with curious eyes, their nose moved frantically as it smelled the carrot.

Slowly the man brought the carrot closer to the little fox and smiled wide when the animal opened its mouth slowly and bit the carrot, running back to the alley to the forest behind it at a fast pace.

The man chuckled and got up dusting off his pants and hands, turning to Michael finally.

Michael had a small smile on his face as he watched the man interact with the fox, but as soon as he saw his face, his smile dropped, his eyebrows went up and his lips slightly parted. The man looked like a statue, like a dream. His eyebrows were thick, his nose was long and his cupid's bow was very prominent. Above his lip, there was a small freckle making it hard not to bring attention to his pinkish lips. And his thick eyelashes framed his beautiful and shiny green eyes.

"May I help you with something, commander?", he asked, getting Michael to leave his trance.

"Oh… hm… yes!"

When Michael opened his mouth to try to speak something with a little more syllables, a little girl started running towards them, "William! William!", she called getting beside Michael, panting because she ran too fast to get there, "Do you have blueberries today?"

William smiled and turned his back to them again to get the little bowl Michael saw minutes before. The little girl offered her hand to him, "I'm not gonna give you all of them today, because I have a few friends that would also like them, so you will have to share, ok?"

"It's fine", she complied, nodding. He placed a few blueberries on one of her hands and asked for the other one to put a bit more since the hands of a seven year old were too small and he thought it wasn't enough, "Thank you, William!"

"You welcome, sweetie", she started to run like the fox, "Don't forget to share!", he screamed at her.

"Okay!", she screamed back as she vanished between the crowd.

"Would you like a blueberry?", William offered the other man the bow.

"No… I-", the words got stuck in his throat as the other took one little fruit and brought it to his lips, eating it. William noticed that the other seemed stuck and moved the bowl, offering once again, "No, it's fine… Thank you."

William frowned for a second. Commanders knew how to say "thank you"? That was brand new information. If he managed to say "please", William would flip. The baker smiled and placed the bowl back in its place

"Do your friends prefer the blueberries over the bread?"

William chuckled, "Yes, they like the fruits more."

"Oh… are they foxes too?"

He chuckled again, making Michael smile, "Actually, they are crows."

Michael's eyebrows went up in surprise, "That's nice. Do you have any human friends or only animals?"

"Mostly animals, if I'm going to be honest", Michael chuckled softly, "But the human ones like the blueberries too."

"I saw that", Michael smiled and looked at the table, "You made all of these?"

William nodded, "Yes…", and he got a piece of the sliced bread that was still steaming from how hot it was, "Would you like to try?"

"That one I will not pass on", he got the bread from the other's hand, brushing his fingers against it just to feel if his skin was as soft as it looked, and it was, it felt like he was brushing his hand against silk. He took a bite and hummed, getting a happy smile from William, "This is incredible."

"I'm glad you like it!", he chirped, "I'm sorry for not having butter today… When it's warm like this, it tastes even better."

Michael took a deep breath and gave the bread another bite, the soft dough would tear easily under his teeth, almost melting in his mouth from how soft it was. For a second, he questioned why he was alone in that stand, why no one was there too getting a piece of bread. He didn't realize that people didn't want to get near a commander, they could wait until he was gone to talk to William.

"When will you have butter again?", Michael asked, brushing one hand against the other to clean them.

"Probably tomorrow…"

"So can I be back tomorrow to try it?"

"Of course, commander."

Michael offered his hand to William, "Call me Michael."

William grabbed his hand firmly and gave a small shake, "William."

Their hands slid against one another as they separated the handshake. William noticed that Michael's hand was a bit rougher than his, even though he did a lot of manual labor, he had the luck of not showing it that much. Michael's hands were a bit more strong as he had to wield a sword. He was very pretty and polite for a commander, William thought. He was being so nice, because Michael was nice first. Usually commanders demand attention, demand things to eat, other commanders would punch his stand to get his attention and scare away the fox, but Michael waited patiently as he was feeding the little animal. He waited patiently as the little girl came to get her blueberries. He joked a bit and even asked him to use his first name, not "sir", not "commander", not "my lord", just "Michael".

He had long and dark eyebrows, his hair was a bit long and curly, and so dark, shining beautifully under the morning light. His nose was long and had an adorable curve on the tip. His lips were plump and pink, and naturally they seemed to glisten under the sun. His neck was long like his whole body was. His shoulders were broad and his cheek bones were sharp. One day, when he would get close enough, he would notice the freckles over his face.

"So, how much for the loaf of bread, William?"

William couldn't help but frown, he wanted to pay for his own food? Commanders would usually take it. They would arrest peasants for stealing and would still do so on a regular basis, which William always found very ironic.

"Two gold coins", he answered, waiting for a scream, an angry face, a complaint, but Michael reached for the pocket in his pants and got two gold coins, giving them to William.

"Here", he smiled.

"You can choose which you want."

William placed the coins inside his own pocket as Michael touched the top of one the loaves that seemed to be the fluffiest and liked how it bounced back from his touch.

"I will take this one, please."

And again, William frowned. So, he knew how to say "please" also. This was the most insane interaction he had with a commander in his whole life. Last encounter he got a purple eye trying to defend a young woman who was a friend and was just trying to sell some oranges, but they kept trying to touch her in an inappropriate manner.

William got a brown paper he had stacked under the biscuit plate and wrapped the bread, closing it with a thin sisal rope, "Here you go", he smiled, giving the bread to Michael.

He didn't have to touch William to get the bread, there were more than enough places to touch the wrap and get it, but he chose to place one of his hands over William's and the other on the other side to feel one more time his soft skin under his.

"Thank you, William", he smiled, "See you tomorrow?"

William nodded, with a big smile on, "Yes, I will be on the stand next to the foxes and little kids."

Michael laughed, "And the crowns."

William chuckled, "Yes, and the crows."

"Goodbye", Michael whispered, trying to move away, but his feet wouldn't budge.

"Goodbye", William waved.

With a deep breath, Michael finally started moving away, going through the crowd that opened space from him to pass. Before he could lose William from sight, he glanced back, seeing him greeting new clients, smiling and talking to them.

Noticing he was being watched, William looked at the commander's direction, their eyes meeting for one more time for that day. The green on the brown. A soft glance. A very curious one also, for that matter.

…

On the next day, Michael showed up like he said he would. First thing in the morning he was going around the town's market to find William's stand. It didn't take long for him to start to smell the fresh bread and his legs did the job of helping him follow it. This time, he got to the stand and William was finishing cutting a fresh loaf on top of a wooden cutting board. The smoke was even more visible this time since it was just being cut.

William had shorter sleeves that day, and the sleeves were too small for his biceps sake. With his movements, Micheal could see them stretch a bit and start to squeeze the big and strong biceps.

"Hello, Michael", William said smiling when he saw Michael.

Michael got scared for a second, he was being caught staring with a lot of attention, "Hi, William!", he tried to smile, giving an awkward one, trying to not show how much he was staring at those clearly very hard and strong biceps.

William placed the bread on its little basket with a white cloth on it, "You really came."

"You said that would be butter", he chirped, smiling.

William chuckled, shaking his head, "I truly did", he turned to his wheelbarrow and got a white butter bell and a butter knife, putting over the table, "Please, chose a slice", William wondered for a bit if he should do what he wanted to do, he looked at his wheelbarrow once again, on a corner, under the white cloth there was a smaller glass of milk he had separated thinking of Michael. He looked back at the pretty commander and watched him choose the slice he wanted, "Would you like some strawberry milk?"

Michael looked at him with his brow furrowed, "Can you milk a strawberry?"

William laughed at the sincere question, "No… It's when you mix milk with strawberry jam… It's delightful. Would you like to try?"

"That would be nice, thank you."

William nodded with a soft smile and turned his back to him, getting the smaller milk bottle, the jar of homemade strawberry jam and a spoon. He placed the bottle over his table and opened it, getting two spoons full of jam and put it in the bottle before closing it back again and shaking it to mix the jam with the milk.

Michael watched William with the slice of warm bread in his hand, he just wanted to watch him for a bit.

"Would you like to sit down to eat?", William suggested, "Or you have to leave?"

He had to, but he could stay for a bit, "I would love to stay."

"Good!", he looked around and next to them there was a stand and the person taking care of it had a small stool.

Michael saw the stool as well and he got close to the woman taking care of the stand with different fruits to sell, "It's okay if I take this stool for a bit?"

The woman frowned at him, not understanding why a man wielding a commander's sword, clearly a commander, was being so polite. She looked at William, getting a small nod from him, "Yes… of course…"

"Thank you", he smiled and pulled the stool and placed it next to the wheelbarrow.

He sat down with the slice of bread in one hand and the knife and butter bell on another and he looked around, not wanting to put anything on the dirty ground. William, noticing what he was thinking about, got the wooden cutting board and got close to Michael's lap, waiting for approval to continue. When he understood, his legs closed together and he smiled, thinking it was a great idea. The cutting board was placed over his thighs, William couldn't help but notice that they were thick, they looked meaty pressed against one another, pressing against the black pants.

Michael placed the butter bell, the butter knife and the fresh warm bread over the cutting board and the bottle with the lovely pink drink was placed next to his shiny boots by William.

The baker turned his back to the man so he could talk with clients, Michael opened the butter bell just to get distracted by the other's back. It was broad like his shoulders, making his waist look small by comparison. When Michael's eyes looked at the other's ass, he averted the gaze quickly, getting shy with his behavior. But the quick glance was memorized in his brain already, it was plump and round, looking like it was amazing to squeeze.

"Fucking damn it, Wheeler", he whispered to himself.

William turned to him, "Did you say something?"

"No…", he nodded quickly, "Sorry for interrupting."

Another word that he never thought a commander would say. Byers smiled, "It's okay", and turned back to the client.

Michael spread the butter over the bread, watching it melt over the corner of the bread. He took a bite and hummed in happiness, it was so good. William turned to him when the client went away, smiling at his positive reaction.

"Good, huh?"

Michael nodded eagerly, "Amazing", and he got the strawberry milk bottle, "Now, let me see this one", he opened the bottle and took a sip, humming once again, "Goodness grace, this is too good. Milking strawberries sure is worth it."

William scoffed with a smile, "You're so dumb", his eyes grew wide in fear with his harsh words, he was joking, but maybe that could upset Michael, but it didn't, he just smiled widely.

"My older sister says the same."

They looked at each other smiling, just holding each other's gaze, when a tiny noise made caught their attention. It was a tiny squeak that came from a tiny orange furrowed fox. It's nose sniffing up, pointing at Michael, who looked at his bread, back to the fox and finally to William.

"Is it okay to give it bread?", Michael asked.

"I guess so, I would just not give it with butter."

Michael nodded, tore a piece of his loaf in half and offered it to the small animal. The fox sniffed around the bread and opened its mouth slowly just to close it quickly to snatch the bread and run back to the forest. The taller man chuckled softly watching the fluffy tail vanish between the bushes.

"I understand why you like to be friends with them, they are very cute", Michael commented looking back at William, who smiled.

"They sure are. And their fur is super soft", and he got another slice of bread, offering it to Michael.

"Oh, no!", he waved his hand in front of him, denying the piece of bread, with his brows up, not wanting to bother, "There is no need to worry."

"You just lost half of your bread to a little fox, please, take it. And I made the butter just so you could eat with the bread, you have to accept", he insisted. Hesitantly, Michael got the other piece, it was too good to deny it.

"You made the butter just for me?"

William got nervous in the same second, "N-no… I mean… I wasn't going to make it yesterday…"

"You said that maybe you would have it for today, so it wasn't the plan?"

William took a deep breath, "No", and he chuckled, "I have to make the clients happy."

Michael crooked one eyebrow, "You just want my money, huh?"

"I have taxes to pay, Michael", he remembered like it was obvious, making him laugh.

"You are right", he nodded and sighed, "Thank you for the other piece of breath."

"You're welcome, I hope you enjoy it."

Michael nodded and continued to eat his bread as the other kept selling his baked goods. He didn't want to leave, but he had nothing to do at the market that could justify missing his morning shift as a commander in the castle. Other commanders would miss their whole work day and don't care about it, but Michael worked very hard and was very proud of his position, so he needed to be good at it.

He got two gold coins and placed them over William's cutting board with the butter bell and the dirty butter knife. He placed the cutting board over the table, on the corner, placing the empty glass bottle inside William's wheelbarrow. Finally, he got the stool and took it back to its owner, thanking her for landing it for him for a bit.

When the commander got close again to say goodbye, William noticed the coins over his cutting board, "There is no need for that, Michael", he said, getting the coins in his hand and offering them back to the taller man.

"Please, take them, it's only fair, I ate one piece and a half", he emphasized, making the other smile adorably, smiling too, "of your bread, you made butter and spent milk and strawberry jam with me. Maybe it's not even enough for everything that I had. Just accept it, please."

"But the bread that I brought and cut, it's free. I made the butter because I wanted to and the strawberry milk was just a treat. I can't take your money", he once again pushed his closed fist with the coins back to Michael.

"No", he said with a smile and just started walking away.

"Michael!", he called for him, watching him go through people, wanting him to stop.

"Bye, William! See you tomorrow", he said looking back briefly to smile and wave.

William took a deep breath and looked at the coins in his hand before placing them inside his own pocket. He started to put away the cutting board and the things on top of it as the woman in the stand next to him got close, smiling like she knew a huge and amazing secret.

"He is polite", she commented.

William looked at her with a cocked brow, "Yes, he is", he agreed, thinking he knew where she wanted to go.

"And he is very handsome…"

He rolled his eyes and chuckled, "Are you interested, Robin? I can introduce you both."

"You know I'm not interested in that", she whispered.

He looked at her with a scared look on, "Be quiet, Robin", and he looked around.

"I never understood why I would go to jail with thieves and killers just because I like to lick pussy."

William's eyes almost popped out of their socket, he got close to her and grabbed her arms, turning them so he covered her body with his, "Shut up", he said through his teeth. She spoke very quietly, the market was very noisy, so no one heard her, but he got scared nonetheless. 

"Sorry", she whispered, "But you have to agree that he is handsome", she insisted.

"Well… objectively, he is", he agreed, "But what's your point if not to be introduced to him properly?"

He got back to organizing his things as she watched, "I think you know, William."

"I have no idea what you mean", he grumbled through the corner of his mouth getting a bigger and full bottle of milk and placed it over the table.

"Oh… so you didn't trade milk for my strawberries yesterday so you could make strawberry jam for him?", she pointed out smiling victoriously when he looked at her a little bit angry.

"I didn't make it for him, the jar is still here", he retorted, like that was better for his case.

"And the small bottle of milk just happened to be here?"

"I'm just trying to get on a commander's good side, Robin."

"Is the good side underneath?"

She laughed when he looked at her mortified, his cheeks getting red right away, "You need to learn to shut up", he said through his teeth.

She shrugged, "I will leave you alone…", and she started walking back to her stand, stopping briefly to look at him again, "If you want more strawberries, just let me know", she smiled, "But the peaches are for Victoria, okay?"

He chuckled, "Okay, Robin, okay."

And she finally got back to her stand. Victoria was a woman that worked at a little pharmacy down the road from the market and she and Robin were close. Close like she was trying to convey that William wanted to be with Michael. But he wouldn't admit that, especially not in a market full of people.

…

The weeks passed. Michael would go every day to the market to check on William. One day he even brought some new white cloths for him to put over his baked goods. Robin would watch from a far with a little smile on her face, it was cute. Even though William would never admit that he enjoyed the company of the other man way too much, more than a friend would enjoy a friend's company, she knew what he felt. It was what she felt for Victoria.

William would always place his stand next to Robin, the woman Michael got the stool from, that they were friends. He was worried for a moment that Robin and William had some kind of romance going on between them. Michael didn't want to meddle, didn't want to seem nosy, but he had to ask about it.

"Robin is a pretty young woman", Michael commented one breezy spring day, eating a slice of banana cake with blueberries on them, his back resting against the wall of a random building, one of his legs bent and resting against it.

William looked at Robin as she talked to a client all happy, "She is."

"You… do you…", Michael cleared his throat, "Do you ha-have something?", he hated that he was so nervous, but it was stronger than him. He just hoped that the blush in his cheeks weren't that noticeable and his face was just feeling that hot because the cold air was presenting a very harsh temperature difference.

Unfortunately it was very noticeable. Which made William a bit sour, thinking that he was blushing thinking about her being compromised with him and not being single.

"No", he said in a dry tone as he moved his products from the wagon to the table.

Michael smiled so wide that it hurted his cheeks a little, "Really?"

William still was a bit sour, "Yes. We are just friends", he nodded, "But… she is not available if is that what you want to know", he didn't want to say the truth, that Robin had already established that she didn't feel any sort of attraction to men, she found some of them attractive, but wasn't attracted to them. So he said only enough.

"No… I was just curious", he cleared his throat again, "You seemed close, so I wondered if it was something more to it…"

The smaller man got a little more relieved, smiling small as he shook his head, "Oh, no, there is nothing more to it, just good friends. She already has someone."

"And you, William? Do you have someone?"

He looked at the other for a moment, his voice stuck in his throat, "No… Just me, my cows, my orchard and my garden."

"And the crows and foxes."

William laughed, nodding his head, "And the crows and the foxes", he repeated, agreeing happily, "And a few stray cats as well", he took a deep breath getting a pretty red-pinkish apple with green markings from a basket in the wagon and threw it at Michael.

"Thank you", he said leaning to his boot, getting a knife hiding on the side inside it.

"And you, Michael? Do you have anyone?"

Michael cut a piece of the apple and offered first to the other, who got it, eating it as the other shook his head, "Just me and the king's horses."

"The king has stunning horses", William commented.

"You really like animals, huh?"

William smiled brightly, "I love them. And luckily they love me too."

The taller man couldn't help but smile adorably, cutting a piece of the apple for himself, "Really lucky."

Michael loved his little time at William's stand during his mornings. He would eat something marvelous and talk with the sweetest and most adorable person he ever met in his life, William.

One day, the farmer didn't go to the market. Which worried Michael right at the second that he noticed that he wasn't finding him anywhere. He walked around two times trying to find him, only not to find him anywhere. He got worried, his forehead hurted from how deep the worry wrinkle between his eyebrows were.

When he saw Robin, he got a little more relieved, going through the people to get to her, William had to have his stand next to hers, they were always next to each other. When he was close enough to see who was at her sides, his face dropped seeing that none of them were him. One of them even was a baker, but wasn't his baker.

"Robin", Michael said softly, getting close, "hi."

"Hello, Michael. Looking for William?", she smiled, he didn't even have to ask.

His eyes went to the stands next to hers and smiled awkwardly, "Hm… How are you?", he tried to be polite.

She laughed, "It's okay if you just came to talk to him to know about him, I don't mind, silly. He wasn't feeling good this morning, so he stayed at home for the day."

Michael's brows went up, worried, his big brown eyes made him look like a lost puppy, "What does he have?"

"He said he had a fever…"

"He lives alone, doesn't he?", William talked about him being alone, but he wanted to make sure.

"Yes."

"Does he have any medication with him? Do you know that?"

She shook her head, "I don't think so… At the end of the day, I was going to the pharmacy to get some medication for him."

"I can get that and take it to him", Robin smiled, she couldn't contain herself, "It's okay to ask where he lives?"

"Of course", she wanted to pinch his cheek like he was a little kid, "At south of the village, you will find this dirt trail with tall trees surrounding it, you will find his farm down the road to the left", she explained, "It's really easy to find, you will see a little house covered with vines and a lot of animals running around."

He chuckled, "Okay, I think I got it. Thank you, Robin."

"You're welcome, Michael."

And Michael went to the local pharmacy. A woman with short red hair helped him out, who he figured out her name was Victoria, because her father called her for a brief moment. She gave him a little flask with fever medication and for the flu, and she asked him to make sure that his friend ate before taking the medication. Michael went to the king's stables and borrowed a black horse with a long black mane with white stripes, and more black fur grew over its hooves.

The commander followed Robin's instructions, the whole way to the Byers farm looked like a painting. The trees had beautiful colorful flowers all over them, the petals covered the dirt path. A few minutes after riding he could see a white picket fence with vines all over them, a few flowers also were growing on the top of them, at the bottom, the flower had been eaten by small animals. Micheal knew that William loved that they found food in his house.

William's house was an adorable cottage, it was small, but big enough if it was only him, and like Robin said, it was covered in vines. There were a few big animals walking around, there were two cows and one goat. He could hear chickens, but he didn't see them, because the animals were in a chicken coop behind the house. From where he was standing, on top of the black horse, he could see the different fruit trees William had, it was the most beautiful cottage he had ever seen. He just thought how hard it must be for William to take his things from his house to sell at the village. Even with the wagon, it could be very challenging.

He stopped the horse in front of the fence and tied his rein on it. He got off the horse and went to the gate of the farm. It wasn't locked, he could just push it open and get in, but he felt that it would be rude to just come in like that.

"William!", he called for him, "William! It's Michael!", since he wasn't answering, Michael took a deep breath and opened the gate, "I'm sorry to intrude, but I'm coming in!"

And he got inside the fence, holding a brown paper bag with the medication in his hand, closing the gate behind him. There was a little rock path from the gate to the door of the cottage and grass on each side, which was being eaten by the cows and goat.

He heard a loud caw as he approached the door, looking up, he saw a crow looking at him from the edge of the roof. Michael smiled at the crow, that moved his head from side to side looking at him and cawing. He held his hand up to knock on the door and he smiled again seeing three little silver buttons left near it, he knew that the little crow brought them to his friend. He knew that they liked shiny things and would bring them to their friends.

He finally knocked on the door, "William, please, open up. It's Michael."

He knocked one more time before the door swung open. William was wearing pajamas that were covered under the blanket he had over his shoulders. He was feeling awful, so cold, his body was hurting so much.

"Michael? What are you doing here?", he asked in a hushed voice, his eyes were small, he was clearly sleeping when Michael woke him up.

"I'm so sorry for showing up without being invited", Michael started, looking guilty, "But I went to the market and Robin told me that you had a fever, so I took the liberty of coming here", he took a deep breath, "She explained to me how to get here", and he lifted the little bag, "And I brought medicine."

William smiled, his lips were gray, which broke Michael's heart, "You didn't have too."

"Of course, I did", he insisted, "It's okay if I come in?"

"Please", William moved to the side, letting the other in.

William's house was even cutter on the inside, everything was made of wood, a pretty brown wood that looked polished from how much it shined. The walls had a few paintings scarred around. The fireplace had a cauldron on it, over unlit wood. Vines were growing over the walls inside as well, it looked stunning. The pans and trays were made of copper and some of them were hanging under the wooden cabinets and hooks on the walls. Everything was so cozy, it was the visual representation of what it was like to be around William.

"Again, I'm sorry for showing up without being invited, I got worried about you."

"It's okay… Thank you for taking your time with me", William shivered and chuckled, "I'm sorry."

Michael looked worried and, without even thinking, he placed his hand over the baker's forehead, going under the straight brown hair, "You are burning up", he said worried, "Have you eaten today?"

He shook his head, "Not yet, I just wanted to sleep", he chuckled.

"Would it be okay if I cooked for you?", he asked, "I'm no baker like you", he smiled when the smaller man did too, "but I can make you some vegetable soup."

"I don't want to impose anything", William whispered.

"I don't mind, if it's okay if I use your things and stay here cooking for you."

"Are you sure?", Michael nodded, "Then I wouldn't mind."

"Good. Because the woman from the pharmacy told me that you have to eat before taking your medicine."

"You meet Victoria?", William smiled, his eyes getting small.

"Yes, she is lovely", Michael chuckled, "You want to go back to your room while I cook?"

"I will stay here with you", he confirmed, "I will keep you company while you cook."

"Okay!", the tall man agreed and smiled.

William sat down at the table close to the sink. Michael got two carrots and two potatoes from a basket on a corner of the sink, cleaned and peeled them. He was planning to cut them up in smaller pieces to cook faster. He got the fire on the fireplace started, the copper cauldron was placed over it in a hook to boil the water and the peels from the vegetables to give the soup more flavor and vitamins. He also chopped up an onion and minced some garlic to give even more flavor to the soup.

"Would it be okay if I put a few eggs to cook in the water? You need a bit of protein too."

"It's not gonna be hard to find them in the middle of the water to peel them? Or you want me to eat the shell? I'm sick, not insane."

Michael laughed, "No, silly, I will crack them on the boiling water. My mom used to do that when she made soup for us. It was fantastic. Would it be okay with you?"

"Oh! I see", he chuckled, "Sure."

"Nice", he got back to cutting the carrot he was finishing cutting, "Oh, your little crow friend left you a few gifts outside."

"He is so sweet", William said, "You see that self", and he pointed at the shelf on the right of them, "that box has all the little trinkets he left for me."

Michael smiled brightly, "Can I see?", when the other nodded, he went close to the shelf next to a beautiful sunset over a lake painting. He got the box and opened the lid, seeing all the little metal things there. There were nails, buttons, safety pins, lockets and pendants, earrings and little rocks. Seeing that, it made him smile, "That's adorable", William nodded as Michael got back to his activity, "And those paintings? The crow friend made them too? Or it was a little fox?"

"It was me."

Michael's eyes widened going from the painting to William, "You're so talented! William! These are amazing!"

William smiled shyly, "Thank you. I really like painting."

"You should sell these paintings too, it would make a lot of money."

"I will think about it."

Michael nodded, agreeing. They got quiet as the commander kept preparing the soup, he took out the peels that were already boiled and put the vegetables and cracked two eggs on the water. He turned around and opened his mouth to tell William that in a few minutes it would be done, but soon he closed it back up when he saw that the smaller man was sleeping on the chair. He was hugging himself with his blanket and his head was hanging to the left.

Michael smiled at that adorable scene, getting close. He caressed the brunette hair, taking a deep breath, it was so soft. He positioned himself and placed one of his arms under William's legs and the other behind his back, picking him up in his arms like he didn't weigh anything at all.

"Michael", William whispered, his eyes hardly getting open while being walked to his room.

"Shhh", he shushed the other, "Just go back to sleep", Wheeler got to the corridor and saw two doors, one was the bathroom and the other was Byers' room. William laid his head on his shoulder and that made Michael's heart pick up the pace, he didn't want to put him down anymore, but he shouldn't do that.

William was laid down on his bed and once again he got his hair caressed by the other before he got back to the kitchen. Michael looked out the window over the sink and smiled at the view, noticing that one of William's paintings was that view, he even made the window over the landscape. It was turned to the forest and he was able to see the beautiful trees and the red barn for his big animals. He could see a few bunnies running around between the cows. They were clearly wild rabbits, because William didn't mention them and since the chickens weren't loose, the rabbits wouldn't be too.

When the soup was done, Wheeler got a ceramic bowl and put a lot of the soup in it, making sure to get a lot of carrots, potatoes and the two eggs. He used a cloth to place between his hand and the bowl and got a spoon and the bag with the medication, going back to William's room.

"William?", he said softly, getting the chair next to the desk on the corner of the room, placing it close to the bed, next to the headboard, "William?", he sat down, his free hand running his finger over his cheeks, getting worried when the other woke up, even though that was the plan all along. His cheeks got hot immediately, "Hi…"

"Sorry", he said softly, "I'm very sleepy…", he sat down on the bad, his back against the headboard.

"Don't be", he assured softly, "You have to eat now", he got a bit of the soup on the spoon and offered to the other, getting the bowl under it so it wouldn't drip over the other.

"You don't have to feed it to me", William chuckled, trying to get the spoon, only to be pulled away from him.

"And let you sleep on it in your hand and spill boiling water over yourself?", the smaller man laughed, "No way. Just be a good boy and eat it."

William was too feverish to realise that being called a "good boy" made his body tingle, but once he would get better it would hit him very roughly.

Michael spoon fed the farmer with the soup he made. When William ate the first spoon, his stomach growled loudly, his body finally remembered it was very hungry. He tried to eat slowly, because after eating the second spoon with too much eagerness he burned his mouth.

When he finished the dish, he took his medication. His body's first reaction was to start shaking again, he just felt warm again after the soup, but his body also remembered he was very sick and the medication was going to start working, only after his body felt a little worse to help him sleep again.

"Are you cold?", Michael asked after getting back from getting the bowl in the sink in the kitchen.

"I'm going to be fine."

"Are you sure? Do you want more soup?"

"I think I have eaten enough", and his teeth started clanking together as he laid back down. Michael took his boots off and sat on the bed, "What are you doing?"

The black haired man simply laid down on the bed next to the other man and pulled him closer to his body, one hand going under his neck and the other over his arm, caressing his back up and down quickly, "It's just to warm you up a bit", he explained in a soft voice, "You will be better in a few hours, I just don't want you cold until then."

"Okay", he agreed quietly.

Once again on that day, William slept, but, this time, he was sleeping in Michael's arms. The commander ended up sleeping as well, holding the smaller man's body against his, smelling his soft smell of soap and fresh bread. He woke up a couple hours later, feeling a bit lost on where he was, he didn't recognize the selling and the paintings on the walls. But then he heard William's soft breathing, turning his face, he saw him sleeping in his arms and he wasn't lost anymore.

Unfortunately, he had to leave, he spent way too much time away and if anyone saw this scene, both of them could be locked up in jail for indecency, even though they didn't do anything.

"William?", he called softly.

"What?", the brunette was a bit groggy, looking around with small eyes.

"I think it's better if I go now."

William's eyes got a bit wider and he nodded, pushing himself away from the other, feeling a bit cold from the loss of the other's warmth, at least he didn't start to shake. Should he fake a shake so Michael would stay longer hugged to him?

"Sure", he said as the other got up and started to put back his socks.

"Do you feel okay to go outside with me?", Michael asked, tying his laces, "I brought one of the king's horses."

"Can I pet it?"

Michael chuckled, "Of course."

With William's smile, the other smiled too, "Then I will go."

And that's what they did. William put on his working boots and went outside with the commander, seeing the beautiful black horse tied to his fence.

Before he went close, he got the little silver buttons his crow friend left him and placed them inside his pocket, "Oh my…", he said getting closer, "You are gorgeous", Michael opened the gate staying on the other side of the fence as William caressed the horses nose, "What's his name?"

"Phillip."

"Hi, Phillip. Your hair is really pretty", he said softly, "What's your secret?"

"Your hair is pretty too", Michael said without even noticing.

"Thank you", the answer was so shy and contained, he wasn't expecting that.

Wheeler gave the other a small smile before climbing back on the horse, "I will go now."

"Can I ride him one day?", William asked, untying the knot that kept him close to the fence, throwing in the other's direction.

"Of course! One day I will bring him and he can ride in the woods, would you like that?"

William nodded, "A lot… Thank you for taking such good care of me."

"Don't need to thank me", he assured, pushing the rein making the horse start moving back.

"Wait!", William said, making the commander stop pulling the rain and the horse stopped in his tracks. He watched the smaller man walk fast back home just to come out with two apples in his hand. One, he threw at Michael, who gracefully caught it. And the other, he offered to Philip, that smelled it for a few seconds before eating it whole, "As a thank you for waiting here so long", he smiled and looked at Michael, who was smiling adorably watching him being nice to Philip, "Bye, Michael. Bye, Philip."

"Bye, William."

And the knight left with the worse, going back from here he came, leaving the horse back on its spot in the royal stable. He couldn't stop smiling as he brushed the horse's mane that got tangled, because of the wind. He felt silly for smiling so much, but he felt good. That was it, he felt good.

…

"I think I never asked if it was hard to make bread", Michael asked that morning. Summer had come, the heat was unbearable, but people were still working very hard and the market was as crowded as ever, especially because of the produce from the season. At that moment, Michael was eating a slice of corn meal loaf cake with grape jam.

"I don't think it is", William said after he waved at a customer that just bought sourdough bread, "I can teach you if you would like."

Michael smiled brightly, "I would love that!", and he took another bite of the cake.

"Would you be okay about coming to my house around five in the morning?"

"Five in the morning?", he asked with his mouth full of cake, making the other laugh, "You have to feed the chickens to make bread, is that it?"

"Fuck, you're so dumb", William wasn't the one to curse, but when he did Michael had to dissociate for a bit, because if he paid too much attention to it, his body would react hardly about it, "The dough has to rest for a while before baking. Some types of dough rests two times."

"They sure are tired", he commented, smiling as the other laughed again.

"Idiot", he said under his breath.

"Five is too early, I would have to wake at least at four to go to your house."

"You could sleep at his place", Robin said quietly as she caught a crate full of grapes from the floor and placed it closer to her stand, not even looking at them. It was like she was trying to whisper the idea in their ears through the wind.

William and Michael looked at each other, one's cheeks and the other's ears blushing, respectively, "If you would like…", Byers said, shrugging. 

"I don't want to impose", Wheeler tried to say.

"No, it's no problem. You can sleep on the couch."

"If it's not a problem, then I accept."

"Okay."

Robin smiled widely at her stand, organizing her things. She knew about the sleeping incident when William had a fever. She got so excited that the farmer saw the moment she would start bouncing around the walls of his house. She screamed so loud in excitement that he could see one of his cows getting scared through the window of his kitchen.

They even had a conversation about what could even happen between two men, sexually. He almost choked on his water when she said with the most calm voice ever: "There is one place where it can go in…". And she even completed with: "Some guys at the village's brothel talk about it, they seem to like it.". William was mortified and intrigued, if that was a thing. His cheeks would burn with the thought, especially when he pictured Michael's pretty face over his, hovering, panting as he moved his body back and forth, moaning at how good he felt. And he would blush even harder when he switched them up, his eyes on the brown eyes, pleading for more, the pretty lips falling open as he took all in.

He had to keep those thoughts for when he was alone or things would get too shameful.

"Next week", William began, "there will be the village's anniversary celebration, you can come if you want. And you can come with me to my house and we can make bread the next morning."

"We are going to get drunk and bake bread at five in the morning the next day?", Michael's face had an aversion to the idea, but he shrugged quickly and chuckled, "It could be fun."

"Just… wear normal clothes, okay? And keep your sword at home, please."

"I wasn't planning on taking the sword, but…", he looked down at his clothes, "what's wrong with my clothes?"

William pressed his pointer and middle finger over the king's coat of arms that was embroidered on his shirt over the commander's chest, "People aren't very fond of knights."

"What?", that was brand new information to Michael. He chuckled in disbelief, "What do you mean?"

"People are scared of the royal guard", he whispered, "You were so polite to me when we met that I didn't believe you were a commander."

"Sometimes we have to be a bit rougher, but that's it. We swear to always be fair and treat people kindly."

"Some people have been breaking their oaths then."

"That's just… not possible… we are respected by the people…"

"There is a huge difference between being respected and being feared, Michael."

And it was like the glass floor cracked under his feet and he started to free fall. He never saw it like that, but his vision switched and when he left the market, he noticed mothers would pull their kids out of the way not tk teach them to have matters near such important royal officers, but because they were afraid of what he would do to them or their children.

The bigger and expensive the sword was, the bigger the fear the people had.

But he was a good man, he was polite, he was caring, he would never harm anyone just for the sake of harming, just to feel powerful. That wasn't the reason why he became a knight in the first place. He wanted to help, not to have power.

For the next week, he didn't wear a uniform or his sword to go to the village's market. People were giving him space to walk, but at their own time, they weren't in a rush, because they weren't scared. That made him want to become the change, he wanted to be respected, not feared, he wanted to be the first that people would think when they needed rescue.

On the village's anniversary, Michael didn't go to the market, because it would be a quicker stay that day. William told him they would just stay there for three hours, so he wouldn't even bother to go, it would be a lot of work to have to walk there just to come back a few hours later. So he just had a day off.

Michael felt terrible the whole morning, it was the first time in months that he didn't spend a time of his morning at the village's market eating and talking to William (and also Robin, and sometimes Victoria). He really missed William. And his smile. And his laugh. And the little fox that was his best friend.

He met Byers and Robin at the door of the village's tavern, where the party was taking place. It wasn't that big for all those people, but people didn't mind, they were all smooched together and dancing and drinking. Michael was happy seeing people happy like that, giving him beer and cheering with him and William.

"It's okay if I take her with me for a bit?", Victoria asked once she was close enough to them, having to scream the question, because it was too noisy.

Robin smiled happily, getting the other woman's hand without giving the two men the chance to answer.

"Bye, you two", William said, waving.

Michael smiled, drinking a bit of his beer, "This is nice."

"Sorry?!", the other screamed looking at him, signaling his ear, so to say that he didn't hear.

Wheeler leaned into the brunette's ear, smelling his soft soap and fresh baked bread smell once again, he almost lost his words, because he remembered how good it was sleeping holding him that afternoon, "I just said that this is nice."

William smiled happily, "Oh, right! It is!", he screamed back to be heard with the noise.

"Do you want to dance with me?", Michael asked in William's ear.

The baker looked at the people dancing on the other side of the tavern, they were all dancing in pairs, all of them had one thing in common: they were couples composed of a man and a woman.

"We can't", William answered in Michael's ear. His voice seemed a bit ashamed, a bit shy, even. He didn't say he didn't want to, only that they couldn't.

Michael looked at the people dancing and noticed what he meant, it would be a huge problem to dance together, even as just friends. He nodded, looking a bit upset, drinking more beer. He looked around and saw a flight of stairs going to the second floor, the mezzanine would lead to several rooms on the second floor that the owner of the tavern would rent for people to sleep in. On the second floor was a flight of stairs climbing the wall up to a trapdoor, that was probably the door to the roof.

Michael got William's beer and placed both their mugs over the table next to them and looked at him, "Follow me", and he started walking.

The baker followed him not knowing what he wanted to do. They ended up on the roof, both of them looking at the night sky at one of the tallest buildings in the village. It looked marvelous from up there, the stars covered them and the light breeze was a change of temperature from the warmth in the tavern.

They still could hear the music and the best part was: they were alone.

"Let's dance!", Michael exclaimed excitedly.

The happy music made them lock their opposite arms and spin around one time. They weren't even able to begin dancing when the rhythm changed. They heard a soft harp start to play and the violins and piano followed it, calming down everyone's nerves in the tavern.

"We didn't even get to dance for a bit", William chuckled, letting go of the other's arm.

"We still can dance", he shrugged. William furrowed his brow, giving the other a confused smile, while Michael gave him a courtesy bow, very smooth and millimetrically correct, he was a knight after all, he knew perfectly how to do that. He offered his hand, his face still down, "Could I have the honor to dance with you, sir?"

William gave the hand an hesitant look, his eyes going around the roof, they were alone, it was just the two of them and the music, so his hand went to the other's, who straightened his face, looking at the other with a smile on. Their hands that were together, positioned to the side as they both tried to hold each other's waist, laughing at the coincidence. They both were thought to dance like that, to hold their partner's waist and lead, but they were two leads there, so they had to share the control.

Michael waited, letting the other decide what he wanted to do, his right hand floating in the air, waiting to know where to go. William changed his hand's place and gently rested on Michael's shoulder, allowing him to take the lead first.

And they started to dance on the roof. The music led them more than anything else. Their movements worked well together, like they practiced dancing with the other from how good they worked together.

William was twirled around and brought back to the dance, but this time, Michael held his shoulder with his free hand, allowing him to lead as well. They were smiling at each other, going round and round the roof, following the harp. After doing a courtesy, they touched each other's opposite hand in their chest height as they would spin around together.

Michael laughed amused when William spun him, holding his waist when he pulled the other close, "This is fun", he said softly looking at William's eyes.

"Yes…", his voice was so hushed, there was no need to shout anymore, it was just the two of them anyway.

"I heard once that you only can 'adore' a god, but I can't believe that that's true, because I adore you", his voice was soft. That moment was soft after all, soft like a fox's fur, it was scary to touch for the first time, because you would never know what would happen, how the fox would react, but once you were able to do so, it was the most amazing thing in the world. His hand on William's shoulder went up his neck and cupped his jaw, his thumb sliding over his cheek, that was starting to heat up, "I adore everything about you. Every single last detail. From your green shiny eyes, to your smile", and his eyes went to his lips, "to the adorable little freckle over your lip, to your kindness and the ability you have to become friends with anything", he emphasised the word, getting his eyes back to the other's, "you are best friends with a crow for fuck sakes", he chuckled as the other laughed, "You are the most marvelous human being that I ever had the luck to cross paths with. I still get mesmerized by you, by your beauty, by your personality, by your kindness. I was lost today because I couldn't see you at the market", William was hearing in silence, not moving a muscle, because if he moved, maybe the fox would scare away, "I could only think about you, about how I would see you later, but the time wasn't passing fast enough. I tried to sleep the whole afternoon just to make time go by faster", Byers smiled shyly, "I got three hours from my day maybe, but it wasn't near enough", and he chuckled, making Michael smile, his thumb still caressing his cheek, "William Byers, you might as well be a god, because there is no one in the world that I adore more than you."

William felt tears burn his eyes, threatening to come down. His hand pulled Michael by the waist to be closer to him, letting go of the other's hand just to grab the nape of neck and William kissed Michael. It took Wheeler a second to correspond, but when he did, he didn't waste time. His lips moved against William's, only pressing them against them. It wasn't enough, he needed more.

He separated their lips for a brief second, his thumb going to his chin, pulling it down a bit, getting William to separate them slightly, before pressing them against his lips again. The tongue entered his mouth, making Byers whimper between the kiss, sliding his tongue against Michael's, desperate, longing for the other's touch. One of William's hands went down the curly black hair, finally feeling how soft it was, the other kept on his chest as his waist was held.

Their breaths were shaking, their foreheads touched briefly so they could breath a bit, just to get a little bit of air, before restarting the starved kiss. They felt like wild animals in the winter, desperate to find something to nourish them, and when they found it, they weren't able to let go.

"Fuck", Michael cursed pulling William even closer.

That was when he woke up from his hunger induced trance. He felt something hard on his waist, Michael's erection, as it brushed against his own erection, making his whole body burn and grab the knight even harder, his hands shaking. He couldn't do that, he shouldn't, what if someone went to the roof? There was nowhere to hide, they needed to stop.

He separated the kiss, the moon light illuminating the little string of saliva that connected their lips, "We can't…", he pushed him away, getting his waist being released.

"I'm sorry", Michael panted, taking a deep breath, taking a step back, "I'm so sorry."

"No… It's fine…", William couldn't look him in the eyes, turning his back at him, "Maybe we should go…"

"I need a moment… before we go…", he swallowed hard, looking at the volume in his pants under the moonlight.

"Me too", William nodded, getting close to the edge of the roof, hugging his own body.

"Do you prefer to be alone?"

"No… it's fine… I just need a moment, please."

"Okay… I will stay quiet."

"Thank you", he whispered, closing his eyes harshly, trying to think about anything else, but his mind couldn't. His fingers went to his own lips, touching lightly still feeling the tingly sensation of kissing the knight behind him.

Michel had his back to William, feeling so ashamed, he didn't want to shame him, he wasn't thinking much when he started talking. His lips still were warm from kissing the other, not even the cold breeze could erase that. His erection went down after a few minutes, his mind trying to concentrate on how pretty the moonlight was, because if he thought about William, it would never go away.

"Would you be okay with going now?", William asked in a hushed tone.

"Yes", Michael turned to the other who was facing him.

"Would you prefer to go to your house for the night?"

Michael shook his head, "I would prefer to take you home, I would feel better if I knew you didn't have to walk back alone."

William nodded looking at the floor, "We can go then."

They said goodbye to Robin and Victoria, both of them trying to understand why their two friends were leaving so quickly. Michael took the blame, saying he wasn't feeling that good, so he asked to go away and William was going with him, since they were going to his house. But Robin knew that at some point of tomorrow, William would tell her what truly happened.

They walked quietly, it would be faster in a horse, but William hadn't managed to buy one yet, she almost had the money to do so and he refused to allow Michael to get one of the king's horses again, especially because it would be for more than a few hours in the afternoon, he didn't want to go to prison for stealing from the king. He knew that it wouldn't matter if Michael said it was him that got it, that it was his idea, William was the peasant one, he would be the one going to jail for it. It was just about 20 minutes walking from the tavern, it was 40 from the market and William would walk carrying a wagon, so it was much simpler by comparison.

Michael was the first one to break the silence, stopping in his tracks suddenly, stopping in the middle of the forest path to the farm, getting William to stop and turn to him as he knelt down. For a second, the farmer's breath got caught in his throat.

"Sorry for stopping", he said softly, touching his right boot and messing with the lace, "My boot is untied", the man standing could have sworn that the boot was still tied and Michael untied it to tie again. He was right, the knight wanted to talk without having to look at the other, so he thought it was a good idea to have his attention to another thing, so he lied, "And… uh… I'm sorry for…", and he took a deep breath, calmly adjusting his laces to tie them, "for what happened earlier", and he switched his knees, untying the other lace to tie it again, it would be just so both of them are tied in the same way, not to give him time to keep talking, "I shouldn't have said all those things, I crossed a line", and he looked up at William, as he stood up, his height towering over the farmer's, "I'm so sorry", he managed to say looking in the green eyes.

Byers took a beat, taking a deep breath, "I-I-", he cleared his throat looking up, to the stars on the horizon over the top of the trees and back to the brown eyes, looking guilty as they looked at him with curiosity of what they wanted to say, "I was the one who… well… started", Michael smiled softly, getting a smile from William too, "I'm the one who should be sorry."

"There is no need to apologize", Michael assured with a soft voice, his eyes going to the other's lips for a second, before going back to his eyes. Noticing what he did, William did the same, "I enjoyed it…"

"You did?", the question was silent, there was no reason to talk too loudly there, it was just them, the stars, the trees and an owl hooting in the distance.

Michael nodded looking at his lips again, "I did… It's the only thing I can think about", and he finally brought his eyes to the green ones, "Everything that has to do with you, actually. You are the only thing I have in my mind. I can't-"

And he stopped himself, touching William's face and pushing him back, stopping when the other's back touched a tree trunk, the dense forest covering them. And with a deep breath, Michael kissed William.

The kiss didn't start like the last one, that was just a simple touch of the lips, with this one they already were starving for each other's taste. William's hand went to the black hair as Michael's hand held his waist. The kiss was famished, their tongues would slide over one another, not fighting for space, but for the need to be touching the other.

Without breaking the kiss, Michael's hands went to William's thighs, feeling their tenderness for a moment as he pulled him up, wrapping the legs around his waist. The baker broke the kiss just to look at him, his hands hugging his neck, pulling him closer, as if there was any space between them to be conquered. Their lips were a little bit red and glistened with saliva.

Michael captured William's lower lip in his and sucked on it before getting back to kissing. Without realizing, Byers rolled his hips, his body just worked for him, he was feeling too good, it was overwhelming and he needed to relieve himself a bit. With his movement, Michael hummed in approval, pressing the other's back even harder against the tall and big tree trunk, his own hips grinding against the other's. William whimpered between the kiss, his hips moving against Michael's even harder, his legs tightening the grip around his waist, to give him balance to keep moving.

"Fuck", William cursed, moaning softly as he felt the other's erection press against his.

They weren't thinking anymore, they were just so fucking horny that they didn't thought about the consequences of what they were doing, it just felt too good to think about anything else. Michael took a deep breath, he loved hearing the baker cursing, making his cock throb in his pants and he pushed his own erection against the brunette's and moaned with him. Their faces were so close, their noses touched each other's skin, as their parted lips tried to keep their breathing going, panting for air.

They started to kiss again, their hips picking up the pace. William only experienced pleasure with himself, Michael had a few encounters in the brothel, he had the means to pay for this kind of pleasure, so he knew somethings, but that was different, there was no comparison and his cock wasn't even out of his pants. William squeaked in surprise between the kiss when he felt one hand on his ass, squeezing the meat. He just kept kissing the other, rubbing his cock against the other's.

A pressure formed in their stomachs, building up, bubbling up their bodies and, if they weren't already insane enough, it boiled over. William threw his head back against the trunk, his body trembling, soft spasms taking over his body, his head went back down, his eyes met Michael's, there was so much eagerness in the brown eyes, watching him carefully. 

William laid his forehead against the broad strong knight's shoulder, trying to normalize his breathing, his body still tingling with an orgasm.

"Are we insane?", William asked quietly, unable to look at Michael, still hiding his face on his shoulder, smelling the perfume on his neck.

"I think so", Michael said, pulling the other's head by his cheek to get him to look in his eyes, "Are you okay?"

William nodded, "Yes."

And he was finally put on the ground again, "We should keep going."

"Yes", it was the only word William was able to say, it was short and simple, it was good for his brain to form.

They got back to walking in silence, William's cheeks flushed during the walk, feeling his pleasure sticking inside his underwear. He was feeling so ashamed, but, at the moment, it was so good, why did it have to be so bad? They didn't arm anyone, they just wanted to be intimate with one another, why was it that bad?

At the door of William's house, Michael watched him unlock the door, still avoiding his gaze, looking very carefully at the door lock, like it was going to escape from him.

"Goodnight, William", Michael said once the door was open, ready to leave.

"Aren't you staying?"

"I don't want to make you feel ashamed…"

"I'm not ashamed", William promised looking at the ground.

"Then say that again looking in my eyes, William."

Byers closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath, before looking at the brown eyes, "I'm not ashamed, Michael", he whispered, "I'm just… It's new… And I'm… shy…?"

Michael had to find a lot of strength in him not to just kiss him again. His cheeks started to turn this adorable pink color that was perceivable even under the moonlight, his eyes looked like they were pleading for understanding.

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"I don't know", the smaller man was honest, "I think we should just sleep… Maybe it's what we need…"

Michael nodded, "Then, I will let you sleep", and he tried to go away again, being stopped by a hand holding his bicep.

"I don't want you to leave… I would feel better if you stayed… please", the peasant let go of the knight's arm, "And you promised to help me with baking bread, I was kind of hoping that would mean having even more bread to sell tomorrow."

Michael chuckled, getting a smile from William, "Okay, I can stay."

They both cleaned themselves once they were inside the house. Michael insisted William to go first since it was his house, and waited on the couch where he was going to sleep for the night. The couch was small and a little hard, but he was happy to just be sleeping under the same roof as William. 

When Michael got in the bathroom, after taking his shirt off, William knocked on the door, "Michael?", he asked softly, he was going to continue talking, but the door swung open, getting his words stuck in his throat, interrupting the air flow with them.

Michael had no shirt on anymore, his bread chest was showing, the strong pecks and softly divided over his stomach. He had a soft happy trail going down to his open pants, showing a little bit of his underwear. Fuck.

"I-I-I…", William closed his eyes for a second and took a shark inhale, opening the eyes back up trying to focus up, and stay with his eyes locked on Michael's, "This is for you", and he offered folded clothes to the knight, "So you can sleep a little better."

"Oh", Michael smiled while getting the folded pajamas, "Thank you, William."

"You're welcome", he smiled as best as he could, his eyes desperately wanting to go down again, "I will try to sleep now, okay?"

Michael didn't even get the chance to answer, William had already gone to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. The knight looked at the clothes and took a deep breath getting ready to clean himself as well. His underwear was trash now after what happened minutes ago.

None of them were able to sleep.

William would spin around in his bed, trying to close his eyes, but he would only see Michael's face close to his. Lips parted, panting for air, his cheeks lightly flushed, the freckles showing adorably under the moonlight that managed to spill through the foliage of the trees. His brown eyes on his, his hands touching him, pulling him closer by the ass. He would turn around and close his eyes again just to see Michael's chest and how broad and strong it looked. William's face started to burn in shame when his mind thought about how it would feel to have one of his pecks in his mouth and suck on it.

"Fuck, William", he cursed, rubbing his face as he laid on his back, looking at the ceiling.

On the other hand, Michael wasn't even trying to sleep, he knew he would just get frustrated if he tried. He was hoping his own tiredness would win and he would just pass out. He was looking at the sealing, allowing his mind to think about William. About his face when he reached his orgasm, how sweet he sounded when he said he was feeling shy.

For a second he thought that he was thinking so much about Byers that his face showed up in the corner of his eye. When he gave a second glance, he noticed William was there.

"Did I wake you?", the smaller man asked, worried.

"No… I wasn't sleeping", he confessed in a hushed tone.

"I couldn't sleep either thinking about you", and he got a little desperate, his eyes wide as he continued in a hurry, "Thinking about you sleeping in here! The couch is horrible… You can come to sleep in the bed with me if you'd like", Michael opened his mouth to say he didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but the farmer didn't let him speak, "Before you say anything, I'm the one inviting you, you're not going to make me feel uncomfortable."

Michael gave a tiny smile, "Okay, then…"

And they went to William's bedroom. The smaller man laid on the left, next to the wall and Michael got comfortable on the right, both under the covers looking up.

"Goodnight", Michael whispered, still looking up, he was more comfortable now, maybe his body would pass out more easily. That could have happened, but William started talking.

"On the roof… you said you adored my kindness, but… I'm not as kind as you, in my opinion."

Michael turned his head to the other, who was looking at the ceiling, "What do you mean?"

"It's just… You don't have to be kind", Michael frowned without understanding, but William continued, "You're a commander, one of the highest ranks in the king's army, you don't have to be kind", he turned to Wheeler, "Even soldiers are rude to us most of the time. You are polite even though your pears would say you're wasting your time with peasants. Because you don't see us as less than you, you are a knight to help the kingdom, therefore, to help us too", he caressed the sharp cheekbone with the back of his finger before placing his hand over his face, "You are kind, patience and so sweet", he smiled softly when the other closed his eyes briefly to enjoy the caressing on his cheek, moving his head a little closer to the other's head, "You want to be kind, because you prefer to be respected than to be feared. And I think that's so lovely to me… Because I know a lot of good people that forgot who they were once they felt the power in their hands, but you didn't, you still remain… kind…"

Michael took a deep breath, "I'm not going to remain sane with you so near to me", he confessed in a whisper.

"I don't mind going insane too… We can keep each other company…"

Michael smiled brightly and leaned towards him, kissing him once again. Michael pushed the black from over them and got closer to him, his hips still over the bed as his chest covering the other's as they kissed. In a swift motion, Michael took his shirt out, getting one of William's hands and running his fingers on his skin. The brunette went up and down the soft warm skin, resting it over the peck, squeezing gently, getting a soft whimper from the knight.

Michael paused the kiss for a bit and, with a deep breath, he also took off William's shirt. The farmer's chest was so pretty, he was strong and looked so good under the soft moonlight that was shining from the window. Wheeler got in between the other's legs and started trail kisses through his skin. William arched his back, his hands caressing the black curly hair, his eyebrows furrowed up as he whined quietly feeling blood rushing through his body and concentrating on his cock.

Michael licked William's hip bones, his eyes went up to him, who was looking at the knight with curiosity. The farmer's toes curled and he threw his head back, moaning when his boner was palmed, the big hand covering the shaft over the pants as it was lightly pressed on.

"Michael…", and William purred, his hand going to the black hair again.

"You are so pretty", Michael whispered as he pulled the brunette's pants off.

The slapping sound of the hard cock falling against the stomach was loud on that quiet summer night. William's face got red immediately when he noticed he was naked in front of another man, especially a man he cared so deeply about.

"William", called Michael, in a soft voice, "look at me", it took all of Byers will power to do as he was told, but when he did, he blushed even deeper seeing that devilish smile on the other's face, "Good boy."

The smaller man's back arched on again and he whimpered in despair when the knight's tongue slid over his shaft, from the balls to the tip. He didn't even give the poor man time to adapt with the idea of having his cock licked, he just held the cock in his hand and after swirling his tongue around the tip before swallowing it.

"Fuck!", William choked out, it felt fucking amazing.

Michael's hair moved gracefully as he went up and down the cock, his beautiful mouth stretched around the large member that throbbed uncontrollably against his tongue. The choking and wet sounds he was making where fucking sinful, it was burning William's body even hotter. He caressed the black hair as he muttered, "Fuck…" and "Yes…" and "Michael…" from time to time, as his body squirmed around. One of the taller man's hands was over the mattress, holding himself, and the other twisted around the cock, going up and down alongside with his mouth.

Hearing William whimper and beg was so good, he sounded so good. And he got closer to his climax, he sounded even better, his moans got deeper, sounding more like his own voice. The hand on the cock let go just to go to the balls, "My fucking-", and William threw his head against the pillow, pushing it against the soft material as his testicles were massaged and his cock was swallowed as if it was nothing, "I'm going… Stop… please…"

But Michael didn't stop, he wanted to make the other cum, he wanted to taste him, to taste how good his pleasure must feel falling over his tongue. The hand that was keeping the knight in balance went to Byers' chest, his fingers trailing over the perky nipple before pinching it.

And William reached his orgasm. His body squirming and trembling, he never felt so good in his life. He has experienced that sensation before, but with himself, with his own hand, but the warmth of Michael's mouth made everything even better.

"Fuck", Michael finally let go of the cock, letting the member fall limb over the man's belly, dripping with saliva, "You taste too fucking good", his lips were red and wet, he looked gorgeous as he breathed heavy, "I need to make you cum again", he breathed.

"I… I don't know…", William looked away when Michael licked his own lips, "I don't know if I can manage to…"

Michael chuckled, "I don't mind to keep on trying", he confessed, licking a strip over William's hip bone, dangerously close to the throbbing cock, "I need to hear you cumming one more time", he pushed one of William's leg up, pressing it against his own stomach.

The barker looked at the other in confusion, "What- what are you doing?"

"You will like it, just…"

He never finished that phrase, his lips went to the thick tie that was bent and gave a playful nibble, getting a surprised moan from the man laying down. His mouth trailed kisses and licked tiny strips over the tender skin making his way down. William didn't think it was possible to be hard again, but could feel his arousal catch up to him slowly.

William moaned loudly, louder than he wished, at least he lived in a very remote area and his animals wouldn't understand what it meant, but still he covered his own lips after moaning because the soft, warm and wet tongue licked his entrance. He never thought about having that area touched, just after Robin said what she said to him about two men having sex. And he thought about it a lot, thinking about how it would feel to have Michael inside him and how it would feel to be inside Michael, if they would enjoy those different scenarios, which they would enjoy more and which would make Michael moan and beg more. One day, Michael simply kneeled in front of him jokingly to beg for a piece of orange cake and, once he was alone at home, he masturbated with such desperation he came in less than ten minutes. So he would love to watch Michael beg.

At the moment, he was the one begging. His body had goosebumps, his legs trembled uncontrollably, being held open by Michael, not letting him disturb his activity as he licked and kissed the other's entrance getting all wet with saliva. It was such a sensitive area and it felt good to have attention given to it. One of the knight's hands went to the perineum and his fingers pressed firmly against it, massaging up and down.

William's cock was hard again, he thought it wasn't humanly possible, but there it was, throbbing over his stomach, pre-ejaculation slipping from the tip and pulling over his navel.

That same hand that was massaging William's perineum went down, touching the entrance next to his tongue. The brown eyes met the green as the older man licked his finger briefly, "Would it be okay…?", he spat over the rim, his middle finger collecting a bit of the saliva, "if I…?", and he pushed the tip slowly in, "Would it be okay to continue, William?"

William nodded eagerly, his hands going to the back of his thighs, squeezing his own flesh as he opened himself more for the other to do whatever he pleased. Being this aroused was stripping away William from any shame, he just wanted to feel good and make Michael feel good.

Wheeler went slow, once the finger was all in, he started to move it. His body covered the younger man, "Are you okay?", he asked as he thrusted his finger picking up the pace.

William nodded, "I am… It's just… too good", he whispered the last word moaning adorably.

Michael smiled, "I'm glad you feel good, my angel…"

The minutes had passed and William had three fingers inside him, going in and out, opening him up. He moaned and whined, kissing the older man. The idea that Michael was opening him up so he could shove his cock balls deep inside him, gave him an urge that was on the edge of desperation, of madness.

"Michael… I need more", he whispered, stopping the kiss after such long minutes of hungry kissing, "Please… I will be good…"

He didn't know where that phrase was coming from, he just knew he wanted to be good for Michael, he wanted to be his good boy.

Wheeler smiled devilish, "You already are so fucking good for me", he whispered, kissing William briefly, his tongue licking the other's, pulling his fingers out of him, "But, of course, I would do anything for you."

Byers eyes widened when Michael took off his pants. He was big. Oh, so fucking big. And that gave him goosebumps again. He watched in curiosity as Wheeler positioned himself in between his legs, spitting on his own hand to get his hard, veiny cock all wet to slide easier and go deep inside him. He was going insane and it got worse when the cock started to push its way in.

He threw his head back, grabbing Michael's bicep with one hand and the black hair with the other, squeezing his finger around the flesh and the hair. Since his head was back, his neck was free, it was open for Michael's delight, and he took advantage of that, licking a long stripe over the sensitive skin before biting it. The grip of William's hand got even tighter, he was feeling so sensitive, everything was too much now.

Michael took a deep breath, letting go a quiet moan when he was completely in, testicles deep in William, who looked at him with pleading eyes, biting his bottom lip.

"Are you okay?", Michael asked, caressing his brown hair, "Can you continue? Or you want to stop?"

"No… No, please, continue", he begged.

"Okay", he whispered, caressing his hair again, "If it's too much or it hurts you, tell me to stop, please."

"Uhum", he nodded, "Just… fuck me, please", he whispered so quietly, it was just for Michael to hear.

Wheeler nodded and pushed his body back, going out slowly and pushed himself back. The thrusts began slowly, letting William get used to the feeling, but soon enough, he felt desperate for more and more, eager, hungry. His short nails dug on Michael's back, pushing him for a kiss.

The poor bed creaked, it wasn't made for that kind of animalistic movements, but they didn't care, they were too busy swallowing each other's moans, their body tight against one another, there was no atom that could go between them at that moment, from how close they were, how tight they held each other. It was like they were afraid that the other would go away.

One of Michael's hands was holding the sheets under the pillow under William's head, and the other held his waist, digging his finger in the skin, to give himself balance as his feet pressed firmly on the mattress so he could keep thrusting.

"I can't- I can't hold on any longer", Michael managed to choke out.

William was looking at his lips before going to his eyes, "Please… cum… please…"

"I…"

William's legs wrapped around Michael's waist when he tried to move back, not allowing him to pull out, "Please…"

Michael took a deep breath and kept thrusting, getting back to kissing Byers, their bodies moving at a rapid pace, insane and needy. It didn't take long for Michael to reach his orgasm, the pressure built up so high that his crash was severe, making him tremble, his semen spilling all over William's insides. When he felt it, when he felt the pulsating of the other's cock inside him and, finally, when the cum spilled, he ended up cumming too. His cum spilling between their pressed bodies, getting their stomachs and chests marked with the thick, white substance.

They looked at each other panting. That was it, William's dream, Michael on top of him, his pretty, plump, red lips parted, gasping for air. The sharp cheekbones blushing from his efforts, sweat wetting his forehead, sticking his curly hair to it, his pretty, brown eyes on William, watching his reaction.

"Was this okay?", Michael broke the silence, getting a lovely chuckle from the younger man.

"Yes, Michael, was fantastic."

He smiled, "I'm glad to know… I'm going to get a wash cloth to clean us up, would that be okay?"

The smaller man nodded, "Yes."

And that's what the knight did, he dampened a wash cloth with water and cleaned them both up, being gentle not to touch William's sensitive member too much, he didn't want to go even further than they did that day.

Once he was laying down, William snuggled on his chest and after a quiet "goodnight", they both managed to finally fall asleep after spending long minutes not being able to.

…

A rooster crowed one time. And then again. And then again, "I get it!", Michael complained still very sleepy, his eyes barely opening. He tried but it was too bright, the sunlight shining through the large window on his right. William chuckled, getting his attention and he finally noticed that he was alone in bed, sitting in front of the bed, putting his boots on, "How do you do that?", he asked, sitting in bed.

"I'm used to him", he said about the rooster, "so I know when he starts to call…"

"Can't we stay in bed for a few more minutes?", and he pouted, "Just for a little bit, please?"

William smiled and went to the bed, laying on top of Michael, his feet outside the bed so he wouldn't get the sheets dirty with his boots, "We have a lot to do, Michael…"

He groaned, unhappy, getting a laugh, "Come on. We can sleep for thirty more minutes, that's all."

"Michael."

"William", Michael retorted, and he groaned annoyedly, "Okay, fine! You win", and he kissed the younger man over him, holding his face, the kiss definitely calmer than the one from the night before. And the rooster crowed again, "I said I got it!", he complained, making the other man laugh.

"So dumb", and he got himself up, "Let's go. Come on… Get up…"

Michael complained, but obeyed. Once he was dressed, William took him to take care of the animals. For the first time, Michael caressed a cow's head and learned that their fur was so soft. He tried to milk one of the cows and the goat, but he was failing so hard that William took charge again. When Michael tried to get eggs from the chicken, he got pecked on the hands by the chickens. The poor knight didn't know how to do any kind of manual labor, but it was the funniest thing for William so he was more than happy to try to teach him.

"You need to stop laughing at my knowledge deficiencies", Michael said once they were back in the kitchen, on the rock counter with flowers, water, salt and yeast to make bread.

"I'm not laughing at your knowledge deficiencies", William explained, "it's just that the way the deficiencies present themselves are really funny."

Michael laughed, "You're such an idiot."

William smiled brightly, "Thank you. Now, let's make bread."

The knight nodded and allowed the other to teach him how to make bread, and help him out with kneading the dough. William got behind him, got his hands and showed him the right movements to proper knead it. Michael didn't process any teaching, he was too focused on the other's large chest pressing against his back, his head near his shoulder and his hand over his own. He was too afraid to ask, to make William feel shy, but he really wanted to know if, by any chance, he would like to do to him what he did to Byers last night.

While he was thinking that that would make William feel shy, the man was already thinking that. Once he got behind Michael and touched his hands he knew that he would love to make him feel good like he made him feel last night. He looked up for a brief moment, seeing that beautiful side profile paying attention to the dough as his big, veiny hands were being held by the smaller one's hands.

"And now?", Michael asked as WIlliam covered the large dough with white damp cloth so it wouldn't dry, drying his hand after washing it, "What do we do?"

"We wait."

"That's true", Michael complained, "I forgot the dough gets tired from being manhandled…"

And now, William got why the dough needed to rest, he got really tired after being manhandled by Michael the night before, "Yes…", he chuckled softly, "So… would you like to harvest some vegetables and fruits as the dough rests? Or would you prefer to rest a bit as the dough rests and harvest while it bakes?"

"How-how would we 'rest'?"

William's cheeks got pinkish, "Well… anyway you would like", he caressed the sharp cheekbones with his thumbs, holding his face in his hands, "We can rest for a bit since you woke up too early for a noble knight."

Michael chuckled, "When I was just a squire I had to wake up really early", and he held Byers' waist, "But since I became a commander, I'm allowed to sleep more, I think I got used to it."

"You need to remember your roots, Lord Wheeler."

Michael made a disgusted face, "I hate that, good god", and he took a deep breath, "I will choose to rest with the dough, but… not to rest like it… but to… unwind?", he tested the waters.

"Unwind?", William's hands went to Wheeler's neck, caressing the curls on the nape of it, "Unwind how?

The knight took a deep breath, his face lowering to the smaller man, "By your caress on my hair, I believe you know."

William smiled, "I have less knowledge deficiencies, sir."

Michael chuckled, "Fuck you."

And they kissed each other one more time. It started sweet and calm, they were less hungry than last night, they could enjoy a bit of peace with each other's kisses. But that didn't take long, it started to get too heated a little bit, as soon as their hands started to roam around and grab and feel the other's body. Even though they were lustful for one another as much as they were the night before, and before, and before since the day they met, they chose to take their time with the kiss and let their hands do some recognition. Michael wanted to memorize that body, every single, less inch of it. And William felt the same, he wanted to close his eyes and be able to count Michael's freckles.

The oldest shirt was gone after a few minutes of just kissing and caressing and William thought about what he wanted to do once he saw that beautiful chest for the first time. His green eyes looked at the brown ones that watched him with curiosity, not knowing what he wanted to do. After a deep breath, William got his face close to one of the tall man's pecks and placed his mouth around the nipple, sucking on it.

"Fuck…", Michael whispered softly, caressing the brown hair with one hand as the other supported his waist holding himself to the counter.

It felt like William's body was on fire, he was doing something so simple, but his cock started to drool inside his pants. The muscle was soft inside his mouth, his tongue would go back and forth the nipple, feeling the hard nub slide over it. He soon traveled his mouth to the other peck, giving it the same treatment as the one before, as Michael whimpered and panted feeling so fucking good.

The farmer stopped his work and started to trail kisses down the man's chest, getting on his knees before him, "Would you be okay with me doing this standing up?", he began, his eyes looking at the other's, "Or do you prefer to lay down?"

He caressed the brunette hair and took a deep breath, "Laying down would be better, but this fucking eyes", he cussed through his teeth and bit his bottom lip, looking how pretty the green eyes looked while they were in those positions.

William smiled shyly and took Michael's boots off, opening his pants soon after, letting them go down as much as they could against those thighs. The younger man gulped as he touched the cock in front of him, veiny and thick, throbbing in his hand as a drop of pre-ejaculation accumulated on the red tip.

"If I", he looked up again, "do anything wrong, please, let me know, okay?"

"Of course, my angel…"

"Okay", he whispered looking back at the cock in his hand.

His lips first kissed the tip before licking the underneath, smiling when the other whimpered softly caressing his hair. William placed the cock inside his mouth as much as he could, he wasn't used to this kind of invasion, but he felt too good feeling the pulsation over his tongue. He tried to do the same as Michael did for him the night before, holding what didn't fit with his hand as he mouth would go back and forth. He would get lost in the movements from time to time, but the other didn't mind, it was still good having those pretty lips slobbering spit all over his cock, sucking and licking.

Byers' free hand experimented with touching the older man's ass, squeezing the soft flesh, getting an even louder moan. He let go of his cock for a brief moment, getting a disapproving grunt. He stood up as he chuckled, kissing him, "Be patient, okay?"

"No", Michael pouted, being laughed at as his thighs were grabbed and he was pulled up to be walked over the table. William knew that the counter wasn't big enough for Michael to rest comfortably, so he preferred to put him against the table, bending him over it.

Wheeler just accepted anything the other wanted to do, so he pressed his cheek against the smooth wood and lifted each of his feet so his pants could be taken off. The anticipation was killing him, his heart racing as the other pulled his leg, bending it on the table. But after that, nothing was happening. When it did, his eyes rolled back so hard he could have sworn he would go blind. He never felt a tongue on his entrance, he only felt fingers on his perineum, but nothing ever got near it, and it was so fucking good. The soft tongue traced around it before licking over it.

The younger man got driven by the knight's moans and whimpers, he sounded so good while he was bent over that table. And he looked so good too, his leg that was straightened against the floor would shake adorably each time his body would push his ass more and more towards him.

"I won't last too long like this", Wheeler warned him in a sweet, whiny whisper.

William would love to make him cum only with his tongue, but he needed so badly to know how it would feel to have him cum because of his cock. So he took a deep breath and got up, offering his fingers to the oldest, "Get them wet", he didn't know what the other would think about this, but he bet he would look stunning with fingers deep in his mouth.

Michael straightened his back and grabbed to his wrist, shoving Byers' fingers in his mouth. William watched as he would suck and let saliva coat the digits. They held each other's gaze, a silence lust covering their eyes.

"Enough", Byers softly said, taking his wet fingers off the other's mouth and, with a hand on his back, he pushed him back down against the table. The beautiful profile perfectly marked against the dark wood. William had to remember every last detail of that so he could paint it.

And one by one by one, Wheeler took the youngest's fingers, his body trembling and arching everything he felt like he needed more, offering his ass to the other more and more, hoping he would take pity of him and just fuck the life out of him once and for all.

Michael gave an unsatisfied whine when the fingers abandoned him, but looking back he could watch saliva drip down William's lips and fall over his own cock, and after spitting on his own hand, he spread the saliva all over it. Once he positioned the tip on Wheeler's entrance, he chuckled when he tried to push his body back, his small waist being held.

"Don't be eager", William chuckled, leaning against the other, kissing his cheek.

"Come on, William… I need you", he whispered.

"I will give you everything you want, my kind sir… just be patient."

The knight was going to protest, but the youngest started to push himself in. Inch by inch, Michael got filled up by that amazing cock. William would go slow like he did, and would ask if he was doing okay all the time, checking it was safe to keep going. He would watch as his cock would slowly disappear inside the other. Once he was all in, he moaned, throwing his head back as Michael moaned with him.

One of William's hands positioned itself the oldest's waist and the other went to his shoulder to help him with his movements and, so, he finally started to trust. The noise of skin hitting skin was quieter now since there was more noise then during the night, but still was loud and frantic, quick and desperate.

The table was complaining even more than the bed. If the bed wasn't made for those kinds of movements, the table was even less made for them. But it would have to take it as good as Michael was taking it. Their moans were loud and breathy.

William leaned over Michael's body, still tightly gripping his waist, and, with his free hand, he pushed his hair aside, grabbing the back of it to pull him for a kiss. The kiss was a little bit sloppy, the position and the movements made it hard to kiss properly, but they loved all the feeling they were having.

With a strangled moan, Michael came, his insides crushing William to the point of making him tip over the edge and cum as well. The trusts kept going, slowing down by the minute as he came down from the orgasm high.

With a peck, William stopped the kiss, pulling out of Michael, both of them panting harshly, their bodies sensitive to the touch. He helped Michael put his pants back on while he stayed laid over the table.

He smiled and kissed him on the nape of Wheeler's neck, "Are you ready to cut the dough and bake it?"

"They get to rest and I don't?", he complained, getting a laugh.

"Come on, you aren't that tired", he gave the other a playful slap on the ass, "Come on we have things to do."

Michael groaned, lifting his body up, it was like his torso waited tons, "Why don't you get tired? Are you a witch?", he playfully asked as the other brought him his shirt and boots back, "You know being a witch is a crime, don't you?"

William chuckled watching Michael put his boots back on and tie the shoes, "I never understood that."

"What?"

"This law about witches", he confessed, Michael looked at him with a puzzled look on, "I know that some people have been killed in different ways for sorcery, but my question is: if they are so powerful that they impose a threat to the kingdom… why haven't they killed the king yet, for instance?"

Michael chuckled, putting his shirt back on, "It sounds like you are on their side, William."

"I'm not, I'm just saying. There are a lot of people that are killed for witchcraft and conspiring against the king. If they are so powerful and should be eradicated, how come they didn't get the king yet? Are they really that powerful?"

"I… I don't really know how to answer that…"

William laughed, "Forget it, it's dumb, let's get the bread ready to bake and harvest a few vegetables, we have to go to the market soon."

Michael nodded and accepted changing the subject, but he couldn't help but think how that made sense. Witches, sorcerers and wizards were enemies to the king and the people, they would be killed in the public square, to show that none of them were greater than the king, but the king never got even a scratch from a sorcerer.

He preferred not to think about it that much, if the king made that law, it was for a good reason, it was for the people's and his protection and he knew what he was doing.

Michael knew that Robin knew what happened to them on that same day in the market. William told him that she joked that she could smell "lust" from them and that's why she knew and she was giving them suggestive looks. And saying things like "Oh, Michael, you really know how to 'knead dough', huh?" and "William, did you make that sugar frosting? Because there is some white dry stuff on his shirt.", and, oh, how she laughed when William looked at his shirt in pure fear of having got it dirty. She was happy for them and they were happy for each other. Michael learned on that day about who Robin was involved with.

"Oh, my god!", he said excitedly, "How didn't I see that before?", he asked William once he saw Victoria interact with Robin, "Am I dumb?"

William looked at them all smiles and giggles for one another and turned back to Michael, shrugging, closing one of his eyes as he looked a bit ashamed of his answer, "You will hate it if I answer."

Michael's mouth agaped and he punched the farmer on the arm as he got his things ready, "Fuck you, William."

"No… Fuck you, Michael."

He held William's arm and whispered in his ear, "If you say that to me again I will have to take you to the forest and suck you dry, so… behave."

William shrugged once again, "It doesn't seem like a bad deal to me."

The oldest laughed, "Take care of your products, baker boy, we will discuss this later."

"Are you agreeing to fuck later?", Robin asked, who got near and they didn't even realize.

Both of them pulled her against the all were Michael was leaning against, getting in front of her, and side by side, both their bodies covering hers, "Robin, for the love of god!", William said it first, through his teeth.

"You need to shut up", Michael backed him up.

She laughed, "No one heard, you two chickens, calm down."

"You need to be more careful with what you say, Robin", William warned, seeming very worried.

"Or what? Your new boyfriend", she whispered, "will arrest me?"

"I would never do that, but I can't say that for everyone… And I can't take anyone from jail if they are there, there is nothing commanders can do", he said and finally noticed what she called him, "And there is no such thing as boyfriend", he whispered as well seeing William's blushed cheeks through his peripheral vision.

"For now", she smiled wide.

"Robin…", William began.

"I know", she gave up, "I will stop. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay", William said caressing her wild hair, "Just shut the fuck up and go back to your stand with your girlfriend."

"Do you think she would accept that?", she asked hopefully looking at Victoria, who looked around before meeting her eyes and smiling at her.

"Be more careful, Robin, please."

"Fine, dad! God!", she complained going back to her stand.

The both man looked at each other, "I can help but notice how fucking sexy you get when you curse", Michael pointed out.

The blushing creeped up from William's cheeks to his ears, "You shut the fuck up too."

Michael laughed and leaned against the wall again, holding his hands up in defeat, "Sorry, I will be quiet."

"Good."

They would discuss this subject later once they got back home.

…

The weeks continued passing and winter was right around the corner. Michael would stay more and more at William's house. He loved it there, it was so peaceful and cozy. Michael's house was a little bit dangerous for them to stay in, there were a lot of neighbors and a lot of them were from the king's guard, which wasn't a good thing. They didn't want to get caught, so they ran to William's little isolated farm.

The night before that day, Michael and William went to their own houses. It was also dangerous to just disappear every single day and show up to the market together. So, that day, Michael was going there alone, ready to meet William at his stand, next to Robin and her crazy comments.

But, that day in particular, Robin was the one that got to Michael. She was running through the crowd, in complete despair, "Michael! Michael!", she screamed when she saw him.

He got closer to her, holding her arms delicately, looking at her with so much confusion in his eyes, she looked so worried, "What's wrong?", he asked, and got even more worried about her when her eyes filled with tears.

"The guards took William, Michael", she said in a shaky voice.

"What?"

"They took William", she repeated.

He was still very confused, "But-but for what?", he was so scared that they saw them together.

"They said it was because of sorcery…"

"Sorcery?"

"It's what they said", she started crying, "They punched him and dragged him out of the market", he hugged her as she continued crying, now in his arms, "What are we going to do, Michael?"

"I don't know…"

He didn't want to say it out loud, but there was nothing that they could do. They would get all killed if they tried to do something. The cells were very protected, more even than the king's room at night, because there would always be a lot of threats inside the cells, as to get to the king's you would have to go through a lot of halls with a lot of guards and not get lost in the castle. They wouldn't be able to get him out of there, only dead.

Michael took Robin to his house for the time being, he even asked Victoria to go there as soon as possible and left the keys with her. He asked her to take care of the other woman and to help her calm down. He would be at the castle's jail, that was where the prisoners of death sentences would go before being taken to pay for their crimes against the crown.

"Guards!", Michael said in a very harsh voice, making the guards there salute.

"Sir!", they said in unison.

"I heard that there was an arrest in the market today, what happened?", he asked.

"There were two arrests, sir", one of the guards answered, "A man and a woman."

"And why for?"

The guard gave his commander a paper with the names of the prisoners, "Witchcraft, sir."

"I see…", he commented, seeing William's name under a woman's name, who didn't know. He gave the paper back, "I will check on the prisoners."

"Yes, sir!", the three guards said in unison.

They were in a little administrative area that would lead to a hall that would lead to the cells. Michael held his commander's sword hilt and walked down that hall. The smell of mold was terrible, Michael would never get used to it. In the cell close to the end of the hall there was a woman, laid on the dirty floor, clearly passed out. With a deep breath, the knight kept walking. On the last cell, sitting on the floor, it was William. When the younger man saw the commander, he got up quickly and went to the cell bars, holding them as the other got close to them as well. 

"William", Michael said, his hands going inside the bars to hold William's face, he had a purple eye and a busted lip, "what did they do to you?", he caressed his cheeks with his thumbs. William looked scared and lost, he hated seeing that look on his pretty face, "I can… I can try and talk to the king-"

"No, Michael", William interrupted him.

"But, William-"

"No, Michael", he interrupted him again, holding his hands, taking them away from his face, "You will get killed too."

"But you didn't do anything… You are not a sorcerer", he chuckled nervously, tears starting to blind his vision, "you are just a farmer… I'm sure if I get a moment with the king-"

"I would allow you to do that", he said firmly, one single tear going down his face, his pretty eyes getting watery, breaking Michael's heart, "Don't you dare to go against my wish, Michael."

"I can't just be here and do nothing."

"You can and you will", he insisted, "There is nothing you can do. You said that to Robin yourself, even as a commander you can't do anything. If you go against the king, you might get killed, and I can't allow that."

Michael sniffed, tears started to go down his face as well, "But… What will I do without you?"

William smiled, sniffing, cleaning his tears as his own got his face wet, "You will live for me… You will be happy for me", his smile dropping from his face as he sobbed quietly, "Help Robin take care of my chickens for me, okay?"

William's chickens were getting fond of Michael, they loved him more than they loved their original owner. It was adorable how they clucked around him all happy when he went to feed them in the morning.

"No…", he cried again, sniffing, "No, please… Let me do something, William, please."

"There is nothing to do, Michael", he pulled the black haired one's face and kissed him quickly, "Don't do anything stupid", his voice was so hurt, his forehead pressed against the other's, "Please, just don't do anything stupid… Just live a happy life and take care of my kids, okay?", he took a deep breath, "I love you, Michael."

Michael sobbed, "I love you, William."

Their little moment was interrupted when a guard screamed from the beginning of the hall, "Sir! William Byers' fiencé is here to see him!", they were warning him about her, because, sometimes, the commanders and sergeants would have a little "alone time" with the prisoners to have a little "fun".

"Okay!", he screamed back trying not to sound so hurt, looking back at William soon after.

"Promise me you will not do anything."

"Will-"

"Promise me", he insisted, not letting him talk, grabbing his face, caressing it one last time, "Promise me that the only thing you will do is be happy and move forward."

"I promise", he gave up, talking in a hushed tone, "I love you", he whispered in pain, he hated that this was the way he talked about his feelings with William for the first time. He could have said in bed with him, before they slept, or while they were taking care of the chickens or baking cake, not like this. But at least they knew how they felt.

"I love you too."

"I will go now…"

And they shared one last peck, cleaning their faces quickly as Michael pulled away from the cell bars, having space to leave as William stayed locked. They looked at each other one last time before Michael left the cell area and went out of the castle's prison. Even as he was leaving quickly he noticed Robin crying in front of the guards, waiting for her chance to go in. She said he was her fiencé so she would be allowed in there easily.

Once he was outside that moldy and cramped space, he looked up, breathing deeply as he tried to control himself not to keep crying.

"Michael", a soft voice called him, once he turned around he saw Victoria going out the prison's door, "She really wanted to see him… I didn't want to stop her."

He nodded, "It's fine, it's good that she sees him", his voice was still choked.

"Are you okay?", she asked, looking worried.

"I'm going home", he didn't even look at her, feeling he was going to cry again and it was dangerous to do that there, "After you finish here, you can go there as well. Bye, Victoria", and he didn't even stay to hear her say goodbye back, he just left in a hurry.

…

Michael took a deep, shaky breath, his throat had a huge knot on it, he wanted desperately to cry. His hand held a man's arm as he walked down the village's main street, who didn't fight against his pulling, he had accepted his fate. His hands were tied with thick rope that was burning his wrists from how tight it was, brushing harshly against his soft skin on his wrists. That's why he hated his job sometimes, he wanted to help the king, to help his kingdom, that's why he became a knight, but from time to time he had to take care of the executions.

He never looked when it happened. His job was to take the prisoner to their death, and that's what he did, he did his job as he swore he would do when he got knighted.

The prisoner looked at the wooden steps in front of him with a blank expression on. He had a bruised lip and a punched eye from when he got abducted from his house to be taken to prison. His left eye barely opened from how swollen it got, and he looked like that even though he didn't fight the arrest, if he did, he would probably have lost his eye.

He went upstairs as some people cheered for his demise. An executioner brought him to the middle of the stage, behind a noose. The prisoner looked at it, his feet over a trapdoor. The executioner went behind him with a burlap sack on his hand to put over his face.

Michael's back was turned to the stage, his eyes filled with tears that wanted so bad to go down his face, for a brief moment he glanced back as the people cheered for the death of another witch. A sorcerer for that matter.

William's green eyes met Michael's seconds before the sack was placed over his head. Michael turned back to face forward as the rope was placed on William's neck, his body tensed when he heard the trapdoor opening and the body falling.

A single tear ran down his face, but, like god was listening to him, it started to rain so the tears blended with the rain drops, so he allowed himself to cry quietly for a bit.

And that was it. William Byers was dead.

Michael couldn't even point out the events that followed, he didn't know what led him to where he was when William was hanged. He didn't remember doing anything, it just happened and he complied with everything he had to do as a commander. He just wished William had told him about this secret, he could have helped hide it better, but he didn't know. Even if it was against the love, their love also was and they weren't harming anyone, like William wasn't harming anyone with his sorcery. Maybe he was afraid to scare Michael, that's why he never said anything, he just wished William saw someone of trust in him, that he could lean on and tell him everything on his mind. Even so, he understood where he was coming from.

Robin didn't go to the village's square, she stayed at her cottage with Victoria while all that happened. She had gone to William's farm before she went home, she told Victoria to wait outside as she checked on the animals and put them inside their barns and coops. She said it was one of the last things William asked her, he asked her to be happy and to take care of his animals and that's what she would do.

The prisoners that were hung would have their bodies burnt at midnight on the day of their hanging.

William's body was on top of a wooden slab on the floor, near the woman's body, both of them with a sack over their heads. He was looking at them, left on the dirty floor of the prison and felt like he was going to throw up. He went out of the prison for a moment to breathe, that was when his sergeant showed up.

"Commander", he said, saluting the knight with a brief nod of the head.

"Sergeant", Michael did the same nod of the head.

"Are you going to take care of the bodies tonight, commander?", he asked, a bit confused.

"Yes, sir", he nodded, "I told the guards to stay at the village's square, you know how people get a little more violent during these types of days, and I thought it would be better if they were there to take care of the damage."

It wasn't a lie, that actually happened and it was good for the guards to be there to protect the citizens, even though Michael wasn't believing in that protection from the king's men anymore. But he told them that so he could be alone with William for one last time and take his body to be cremated by someone who cared about him.

"That's good thinking, commander", the sergeant smiled, ready to leave.

"Sergeant", he said, making the commander stop in his tracks and look at his commander, "how do we… how do we figure it out?", the sergeant looked confused, "About the sorcery I mean. How do we figure out who is a sorcerer? Or even a witch?"

"Oh", he nodded, "that's simple, son. We don't."

Michael got confused, his brow furrowing immediately, "What do you mean?"

"We never found a witch or anything like that before", he laughed, "What? You didn't know?", Michael shook his head, still confused and a little bit angry, "There isn't such a thing, Michael, we do these hangings to keep people walking straight. We need to give people common enemies or the enemy becomes us, the king himself established that", he shrugged, "And fear keeps people from being disobedient", and he smiled, "And it works!", he seemed so happy, "I will leave you to your work, I have a meeting at the brothel to go to", and he gave his commander a playful wink, "Goodbye, Michael."

"Goodbye, my sir."

Michael's blood was boiling, his teeth grinded against one another as his jaw locked shut. He looked up at the castle, as its high towers and felt anger. He tried to be good, he wanted to protect his people and that's why he became a knight, that's why he swore his loyalty to the crown, to serve and protect. Not that, not to project fear, not to kill innocent people, not to make people walk in a straight line because they didn't want to die.

The knight got in the castle and started walking the halls, his legs doing the job for him, his vision was red with anger. He only stopped walking once he got at the beginning of the hallway which led to the king's room. He got near the two guards on the door, who saluted him at the same time.

"Guards, you can leave now", he said without a shake in his voice, "The king wants me and another commander to take care of his slumber for the time being."

"Yes, sir", they said in unison, not even questioning his commander, because, first, he was their commander, so they had to obey, and, second, guarding the king's bedroom at night was boring, so every opportunity to leave, they would take it.

The knight got in the king's chambers, drawing his beautiful commander sword, getting near the king, who slept peacefully on his enormous bed.

The king woke up in a surprise when the hilt of his commander's sword hit him in the chest.

"How dare you?", Michael asked, hitting him again, he had already knocked the air out of the king's lungs, now he was feeling like he was going to die from how much his chest hurted from the broken sternum he just got, "I wanted to serve and protect you!", and he hit him on his face, "And you took everything that I cared about from me! For what? A lie? To keep people afraid?", he gritted his teeth.

"Michael", the king managed to choke out, the adrenaline running through his veins woke him right up, "I did what I thought was better for the kingdom.'

"You did what you thought was better for you", Michael corrected. 

The king started to try and got out of the bed by the other side, but his shirt was grabbed and he was pulled from the bed and obligated to get on his knees in front of his commander.

"I wanted to be respected by the people like I respected you", he said through his teeth, "I didn't want to be feared by anyone", and he gave the frightened king a crazy smile, "Until now…", he whispered, "I hope you understand that dying in fear hurts more."

And he slid the blade of his commander's sword over the king's shoulders making him cry out. The king's silver hair was grabbed and the hilt of the sword was struck on his face again and again and again.

"Did you know", Michael said in the king's ear, as blood ran down his mouth, "we get thought how to make undeadly gashed on our enemies to prolong their deaths and torture them?", he chuckled maniacally when the king wallowed in fear, before he got thrown on the floor, his head the one being pushed first.

First, Michael cut each of the king's heels, hearing him sob in pain, but he would be able to get up. And he got over the king, each of his feet at one of his sides, positioning his sword over his back.

The king started to crawl away, "Stop moving", Wheeler said, stepping on his back to make him stop and sank the sword next to his feet.

The blade passed through the king's body and got stuck between the wooden floors, locking him in place so he would bleed to death. But that wasn't enough. He looked for matches over the king's fireplace, getting the naphtha bottle next to them that was used to get the fire started faster.

"Help! Help!", the king tried to say, but it was so low that only Michael was hearing and it made him even angrier.

He kicked the king's face, "Shut up, bastard", he growled.

Michael opened the naphtha bottle and threw the liquid in the middle of the king's bed and lit up a few matches, throwing them on the wet spot, seeing the flames go up quickly. Before he left, he spat on the king, opening the doors to his room and closing them behind himself. And as the fire catched on the king's chambers, the paladin left the castle.

Michael went to the prison once again, he took the sack off his beloved's face, taking a deep breath when he saw that his eyes were open and with a white fog covering the beautiful green. With a delicate movement, he closed his eyes. And he turned to the woman's body next to William's.

"I'm sorry for leaving you", he said taking the sack from her head, brushing her black hair with his fingers, to make it look nicer, "But I have to leave as soon as possible", he sniffed, "I hope god takes care of your soul and he shows you kindness", he crossed her arms over her own stomach, "I'm really sorry", he took a deep breath trying to hold back the tears.

The paladin got his god, who he adored so much, on his arms and went to the royal stables. The walk was very short but it was long enough for him to hear the commotion over the fire and the king's situation. He looked up and could see the smoke coming from the tall towers. Some white specks started to fall down his face, it could be the ashes from the smoke, but it could also be winter announcing he was there.

"Philip", he said quietly as he opened the gate to the black horse's sleeping area. The horse walked out in a slow strut, "Kneel", and the horse did as he was told, that helped Michael get on his back. He sat down and positioned William's body against his, holding him with one of his arms, the brunette's head on his shoulder, he still smelled like soap and fresh bread. His other hand held the horse's mane, "Up, Philip", and the horse obeyed, the movement was kind of awkward, but they managed to stay on his back without any problems, "Hiya", Michael said, pulling the black mane in his fingers lightly as his boots hit the horse's sides.

Immediately the lovely animal started to gallop at a fast pace, running away with the two humans on his back. Michael didn't look back as he directed the horse to William's house, he needed to be buried there, that would be his wish, Michael knew it. Not to be cremated, but to be buried at the place he loved the most in the world.

During the minutes on the horse's back, the weather got colder and colder, the snow started to fall even faster, landing on the floor and cutting Michael's face. It didn't matter to him, as long as it didn't harm William.

At the gates of William's house, the horse stopped, kneeling at the command again so Michael could leave his back easier.

"Come, Philip, come", he called the horse when he entered the farm through the gate, the horse followed him staying inside the property as he closed the gate with William still resting in his arms.

He took his loved one's body to the back of the house, near the entrance to the forest, laying him down gracefully against the grass that started to get a little whiter with the snow that insisted on falling. Michael took off his jacket and placed it over William's body, even though he wasn't feeling anything, he didn't want him to feel cold.

He got a shovel from the little shed next to the chicken coop and placed it near them as he knelt beside William. 

He allowed himself to cry, his forehead against the man's chest. It hurted too much. And he wasn't able to do anything to help, everything he did to become who he was, didn't help him in the moment he needed the most.

"I can't see a life where you aren't in it", he said softly, straightening his back, his hand running through the straight hair, "I just don't want to… I don't even remember what my life was like before I met you. Sometimes I think about it and it's like my memories are gray, like they lack sunshine in them, but then… one day… I met a baker at the village's market and things just got sun again. Warm and inviting sun", he caressed the hair again, "Much needed sun… The sun that made me see so much…", he sniffed, "I was in the dark before you came along, you know? In a lot of ways… I didn't know anything about myself… about the world…", and he sobbed, "I know I promised to be happy without you, but I will have to break it… There is no reality where I can be happy when you're not here with me", he leaned over the other man and kissed him on the forehead, "I love you, William. More than anything."

Michael got up and started to dig a grave. The sun started to come up on the horizon as he did his work. 

He stopped for a second when he heard a caw on his right, he looked over the chicken coop and saw the crow that William befriended there, looking at him and cawing, moving his head from side to side. He couldn't help but smile, it was nice to see him.

And from the forest, with the sunlight, a fox showed up, making noises behind the fence, calling for Michael, who got up and grabbed a carrot from the garden on his left, pulling it from the ground, getting near the fence, offering it to the fox. The little fox did what it would always do, sniff around for a bit and grab before it would run to the forest.

"I appreciate that you two are here", Michael said to the crow and the fox, "I hope you come more often to keep him company once I'm gone."

He was certain he would get killed by the king's guard, the guards who were taking care of the king's chambers that night knew him. They probably already told that the last person to be in the king's chambers was Michael and the royal guard was tracking him down.

Once he turned back around, he took two steps back to the grave he was digging when he noticed a man standing up, and he knew that he would die from a heart attack. Because, under the sunlight, William had gotten up. His eyes were still white, but soon the white faded and the green eyes showed up again.

"Dear god", Michael said in fear, stumbling back, falling on his ass on the ground, he started to crawl back when William started to move in his direction, only stopping when he hit a tree.

"Please", and William touched his face, caressing his cheeks, "calm down."

For a second, the white fog covered his eyes, and Michael felt his body calm down, he still panted in fear, but he only felt calm, "How? Who? What?"

And William started to explain.

When Robin went to visit him at the prison, he made her promise to do three things for him: "Robin, please", he whispered caressing her face as she cried, "you have to promise me you will be happy, you will live your life with Victoria, and you will be happy."

"I'm going to lose you, William", she sobbed.

"No one will be lost, as long as you help me, okay?", she nodded, "I need you to take care of my animals while I'm gone, please, put them in their barn and coop, okay?", Robin nodded as he cleaned her tears, "And I know it will sound weird, but you need to do this for me as well, okay?", she nodded again, "On my kitchen shelf there is a red flask labeled 'pepper oil', I need you to get it and up it in front of my house's door with a little bowl of viburnum fruit, okay? The bowl is inside my kitchen sink, just get it and put it by the door, understand?"

"Yes", she nodded, getting back to sobbing, "I love you, William."

He took a deep breath, resting his forehead over hers, "I love you, Robin."

William waited walking from side to side in the small cell, hoping Robin did as he asked and that his plan would work. And like he planned, a caw was heard from the little window of his cell. He smiled and got near the window, getting the small bottle from his crow friend's bick.

"Thank you", he said as the crow cawed and flew away.

William drank the whole bottle once he heard the guards coming to take him to be hanged. When the trapdoor opened, William was already dead, his body shut down completely, so even if the air flow was interrupted by the rope around his neck, there was no air to go through. He cheated death and he didn't know if it would work, that's why he didn't tell anything to Michael or to Robin.

He would only know if it worked once the sunlight hit his body. And even though he could have asked Michael to bring him to the sunlight after he died, he didn't want to put this burden on him. It was already too hard, he already had to bring him to the village's square to be killed, he didn't know what would happen after. And again, he wasn't sure if it would work, he had to be lucky. And he was lucky, because he was loved by Michael and because he loved him.

He didn't like to use his powers to change people's feelings, he knew that feelings were human, they deserved to be felt naturally. But he needed to calm Michael down so he would hear his story.

He was silent as he heard everything, looking at William with curiosity. Once he stopped talking, Michael slapped himself on the face.

"No!", William said, his eyes widened, "Don't do that", he touched his face again, caressing the area he slapped.

"You are really here", Michael whispered, getting on his knees, like the man before him was.

"I am", William nodded and looked down, looking ashamed about this secret, about who he was, who he truly was, "Please… don't hate me… don't fear me…"

"I could never fear such a mesmerizing person, William?", and Michael held William close, hugging him, giving him the opportunity to cry, "I thought I lost you."

"I'm sorry", William whispered, feeling tears starting to cover his eyes, "I was… ashamed and afraid… I didn't know if it would work…"

Michael smiled, looking at William, the tears making his vision a little blurry, "I'm so glad I almost had a heart attack just now", William chuckled with him, "You're really here with me again."

William nodded, "Yes, I am."

"I love you, William."

"I love you, Michael."

And they kissed each one more time. One more kiss in thousands more to come.

Robin got to know what happened later that day and a few weeks later, Victoria got to know too. Both of them never felt happier in being lied to.

"heyy, welcome on. I'm kurt, I'll be your driver," before he can finish his spiel, your eyes widen, the familiar tone of his voice and the introduction you've heard oh so many times making your heart jump in your chest.

it feels like you've been splashed with cold water, mind still foggy as you look up in the rearview mirror and see those eyes you love so much. your breath catches in your throat, forcing out a few meek words. "okay—uhm, hi.." you mutter, hands fiddling with the seatbelt as you buckle yourself in.

he adjusts his camera on the dashboard, glancing back at you over his shoulder, that boyish, crooked grin on his face reflected in the viewfinder on his camera. "so, where ya headed?" he asks, running a hand through his hair a he pulls off.

"uh.. down to the college, 30 minutes or so." you answer, shifting in your seat, the thought of being in the presence of the streamer you'd watched everyday for months, even after he started taking the lives of innocents for content, made your heart race. you glance down at the plastic water bottles stuffed into the pocket on the drivers seat, a small pit settling in your stomach.

you've watched people die on his streams after taking a drink from these very bottles. shit. this was serious, huh? you'd been obsessed with Kurt's content for months, and now you were the content.

kurt adjusts in his seat, clearing his throat awkwardly to break through silence in the car. "oh, by the way.." he starts, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. "I have these cameras set up, just for safety, yknow? for the both of us."

you nod slowly, glancing at one of the cameras in the back seat, aimed directly at you. your every movement would be documented. it made you squirm. you swallow, breathing out shakily. "that's fine.."

kurt nods, swaying slightly to the music on the radio, music you've come to be familiar with. his own music he played on every Livestream. "so! uh.. have a fun night?" he asks, an awkward attempt to make conversation

"yeah– yeah.. I had a few drinks with friends." you answer, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap, noticing his gaze lingering on you in the rear view mirror

he visibly tenses, pressing his lips in a tight line and clearing his throat. "right, that's nice. always nice to get out and party, yknow?" he says with a forced laugh, leg bouncing anxiously. he's excited. a drunk woman is easy to kill, an easy victim for a few more viewers and likes. jackpot.

"yeah.. it's fun." your eyes flicker to his phone, propped up on the dashboard. you swallow hard, the tingle of alcohol still making you dizzy and foggy. "you're like.. kurtsworld96, right?" you ask, slurring your words slightly

he stiffens, head whipping around to look at you, swerving slightly before looking back at the road, hand tight on the wheel. "you– uh, you know me?"

you nod. you shouldn't be teing him this, but the alcohols effects were blurring your better judgement. "yeah, Im like.. your biggest fan. I've been watching you for months." you admit, leaning against the back of the carseat, resting your chin on it. you could smell him, a strangely intoxicating scent of cheap vape juice and musk.

kurt swallows, grip tightening on the wheel, knuckles turning white. he tries to seem nonchalant, but you can see the excitement in his eyes, a sense of pride swelling in his chest, so euphoric it felt like drugs. "oh, wow.. really?" he speaks, voice low and shaky

"Mhm. I love your videos and your streams. you're.. so fucking cool." you mumble, tripping over your words slightly, your fingers brushing against his shoulder. the praise and recognition makes him feel high, a feeling of pleasure he'd not felt in his entire life. he had a fan. a biggest fan. he existed to someone in a way that was more than just in the background. he was your favorite.

he smiles, glancing off out his window, chuckling dryly. "wow.. that's– that's really cool. I'm flattered, that's awesome," he says, trying his best to focus his eyes on the dark road, the long stretch ahead desolate and illuminated only by his headlights.

it does nothing to hide the growing bulge in his pants, praise going straight to his dick. you pick at the fabric of the carseat, biting your lip. "so, uhm.." you murmur, looking up at him, hoping he'd turn around and meet your gaze. "are you gonna kill me?"

he swerves, making you stumble over in the seat, his breath quickening as he brakes to a stop. ".. huh?" kurt looks back at you, a confusing mix of satisfaction and something you can't quite make out in his eyes. he's aware of his reputation, but to be asked so directly, it made him jerk.

you sit back up, running a hand through your hair. "I've seen your live streams.. yknow, the lesson? that Frederick guy was a total dick." you say back, so casual, stumbling over your own words, head now resting on the other carseat

kurt pauses, glancing around at the various camera installed in his car, his chat only a few mocking messages from Bobby. he swallows, his hand moving to dig his nails into his thigh. he's not sure what to say. he's not used to being... looked at like this. it doesn't take much for him to figure out you're more of a fan than you put off, unbothered by his blatant disrespect for other people's lives.

"I've been–like–obsessed with you.." you hiccup, pressing your thighs together. you'd thought of him before, in indecent situations that would surely sully whatever purity you had before. before can you say anything else, he pulls over the car on the side of the road.

you watch silently as he unbuckles himself and gets out of the car, only to swing the back door open and practically pounce on you. he wraps his large hands around your neck, squeezing just enough to cut your air off. he pushes you down onto the seats, hovering above you.

you gasp, hands instinctively flying to cover his, nails digging into his skin. there's a sheen of sweat on his forehead, showing just how worked up he'd gotten. "listen, listen.." he mutters, digging his fingers into the side of your throat.

you choke out a ragged breath, smiling up at him, a look that makes the blood in his body go south, heart thumping loudly in his chest. your hands move from his hands up his arms, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck.

he swallows hard, his grip on your neck loosening just enough for you to breath. he glances at his phone mounted on the dash, the view of himself hovering over you centered on the camera. the views spiked, making his heart jump in his chest. your hand cradles the back of his neck, the unfamiliar feeling making him jolt.

"wh– what are you doing..?" he mutters, mouth going dry. he's never been touched by a woman before, as pathetic as it sounds. in his 20s and still a virgin in.. every aspect of it all. you shrug, privy to the way he Shivers when your fingers brush the back of his neck.

"I don't know. I just figured maybe.." you trail off unable to think clearly, alcohol making your mind fuzzy. "maybe it'd be good for views." you whisper, looking at his phone. the view count had gone up by 15, not much, but even one view makes warmth pool low in Kurt's stomach.

he releases your neck, sitting up rigidly, the tent in his jeans painfully obvious. the idea of recognition, fame, infamy.. it all made his mind go fuzzy. it was like crack to him. your hands move down his chest, making his breath quicken under your touch, hips bucking slightly when you rub over his stomach. "jesus– are you serious..?"

any sense of danger or urgency had left, replaced by a need, a craving for him. this random streamer you'd found on a whim, this random streamer you'd watch take countless people's lives. now in his presence, you wanted one thing and one thing only. all of him.

you nod, not breaking eye contact as you slide your hand lower, palming him through his jeans. he jolts, a startled, breathy moan escaping his throat, instinctively pressing himself against your hand. "Jesus, fuck.. this is— fuck."

it doesn't take long for any restraint he had to break, not tht he had much in the first place. he leans down, forearms on either side of you, and presses his lips to yours. he doesn't know what he's doing and that's clear, lips moving eagerly and messily against your own, your hands slipping back around to his neck.

he groans into the kiss, a sound that comes out sounding more like a whimper intended. his hands find your face, holding you still while he kisses you. you sigh into the kiss, the countless dreams and fantasies you'd had about this very moment coming true. you imagined he'd taste like coffee, and you were right. the bitter taste contrasted with the fruity remnants of alcohol on your tongue.

his fingers dig into your skin, pulling back to breathe, panting against your lips. his bulge was straining against his jeans, the friction making him dizzy. you could feel it prodding your thigh, wanting so desperately for him to rub himself against your wet panties.

kurt bites his lip to muffle a whimper like noise, sitting up and glancing toward his phone. 104 viewers and counting. holy shit. the sight of the number in the top going up alone could make him cum in his pants.

he snaps his attention back to you when you put your legs around his waist. his hands move back to your hips, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of your soaked panties, dress riding up to expose you. "wow, fuck.." he whispers, tugging you slightly closer and pressing his bulge to your core, grinding experimentally.

you both gasp, Kurt's hands squeezing your hips as he grinds a bit more insistently, your wetness soaking through his jeans. "fuck– oh my God.." he groans, humping against your warm heat.

you squirm under him, hands moving to his shoulders, squeezing lightly. "kurt.. put it in, please.." you plead, whining through your words. he's reluctant to stop, but the thought of fucking his first girl, losing his virginity on stream, it made him feel amazing.

"fuck.. okay, okay.." he murmurs, letting go of your hips to fumble with his belt, buckle jingling as he undoes it and unzips his pants. you move your hands to help, pussy clenching at the sight of his bulge under his boxers, a dark spot on the grey fabric.

he hesitates, but a quick glance at the rising viewcount, 364, quickly encourages him. he pulls his boxers down, cock springing out, tip pink and sticky. he's surprisingly long, thick and sure to fill you up nicely.

"holy shit.. you're huge," you comment, hand wrapping around the base of his cock, thumb rubbing a vein on the underside of it. his hips buck into your hand, coaxing a needy whine from his lips. the praise makes him even harder.

"please let me put it in.." he whispers, words breathy and urgent, cock throbbing in your hand, precum dribbling off the tip. you moan at the thought, nodding eagerly and moving your hands down to pull your panties off.

kurt hooks his fingers under the waistband, pulling them completely off of you when you get them down to your thighs, immediately hovering over you again, swallowing hard. his cock prods at your entrance, making the both of you whine.

he bites his lip, glancing toward the camera once again, 568 viewers. he slips the tip in, slowly pushing into you, hands shaking as he watches your pussy stretch around him, swallowing his cock in your wet heat.

he pants, hissing in pleasure at your tightness, the feeling so foreign, and so so welcomed. he stills for a moment, raising to wrap his hands around your throat again, stabilizing himself above you. "you're driving me crazy.." he whimpers, squeezing your throat.

you moan, rolling your hips against his cock, pushing him further inside you, cock throbbing against your walls. he pulls his hips back before thrusting back inside, a needy moan leaving his lips. he doesn't bother going slow, his hands gripping your throat as he starts to fuck into your sticky heat, slipping in and out of your cunt.

"fuck– you're so warm.. you feel so good," he groans. his inexperience is obvious, thrusts sloppy and uncoordinated, but to the two of you, it feels like heaven. your hands grip his shoulders, gasping when he presses down on your throat, restricting your breathing just enough to make your head spin.

"kurt, faster, please.." you beg, the sound making his cock twitch inside you. he thrusts faster, car beginning to shake under his movements, hips snapping against yours.

kurt pants, needy moans and groans slipping out freely, mixing with yours and filling the car with lewd sounds. your pussy squelched around him with every thrust, wet heat swallowing his cock. "holy shit.. feels amazing.." he groans, squeezing your throat, speeding up his sloppy thrusts.

he could hear the sound of donations from his phone, a quick glance showing 1.7k viewers. he whimpers, fingers digging into your throat, heat pooling in his stomach, a tight knot ready to bust at any moment. "kurt, fuck.. 'm gonna cum!" you moan, eyes threatening to roll back every time he hits your sweet spot, thrusts bruisingly rough.

"shit, me too.. holy fuck— you're so tight.. god.." his hips start to stutter, chest heaving with heavy pants, eyes squeezing shut as he drills into you. your back arches, shocks of pleasure shooting up your spine, coaxing loud, obscene moans to fill the cramped space. you squeeze around his length, making him whimper pathetically.

your orgasm hits like a truck, shaking your body and making you tense. kurt groans, continuing to thrust throughout, watching cum leak out around his cock. "oh- oh fuck.. shit, oh god.." he pants, face contorting in pleasure as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

you squeeze around him, tipping him over the edge. he groans loudly, pulling out and jerking himself off over you, thick ropes of cum landing on your thighs and stomach, his hand moving rapidly around his cock, head tilted back as he cums.

he pants, and you watch the last few spurts of cum painted your skin white, warm stickiness dripping down your thighs onto the carseat. you're both panting, heads spinning with pleasure.

kurt looks down at you, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over with a needy satisfaction. you reach up to his face, tugging him down into another kiss, one he melts into easily, almost pathetically.

you break the kiss, pressing your forehead to his, still panting raggedly. "'m so obsessed with you.." you whisper, hands gripping at his shirt, like you'd never let go ever again now that you finally had him.

he looks at you with half lidded eyes, cock resting on your stomach, his hands leaving your throat and resting beside you. "yeah.. I think I'm obsessed with you too."

a/n: holy shit. this is so fucking long dude. I might've lost the plot halfway through bc I wrote half, fell asleep and then wrote the rest. uhm.. not much else to say ig.