#cousinstiles

“I’m not shy about it, but I always make sure nothing’s…visible. This ceremony rather makes that difficult.” Derek countered, crossing his arms.

“Yeah? Well maybe that’s the purpose of the headdress, to distract them while we’re, y’know…”

Derek chuckled, “Maybe. But seriously, you need to get dressed or we’ll be late.”

“Don’t you mean undressed? I’m pretty sure I’d be more covered if I was just naked.” Stiles scoffed. “Not that I mind, of course.”

Derek just shook his head fondly and shooed him into the adjoining room where servants were ready to fit him into his ceremonial clothes. Although, Stiles was right, there really wasn’t very much in the way of clothing, but that was also rather the point.

Stiles and Derek had been friends for many years as children, Stiles being the son of an important visiting dignitary. His father was a member of the court, and as children they would spend long hours exploring the castle and castle grounds while the adults were in their meetings and discussions. Unfortunately, the friendship was cut short when Stiles presented as an omega. They had been separated immediately, no longer allowed to interact without the presence of at least three chaperones. Stiles and his father had eventually returned to their country where he needed proper education befitting his station. And thus had begun their schooling.

Derek, whom no one ever doubted would present as an Alpha, had to attend combat training, diplomacy, history, and a number of other rather tedious courses as the crown prince that would help him in his rule as king.

Stiles, on the other hand, was taught about the delicate politics of court, as well as subterfuge, manipulation, and anything that would give him an advantage in a world where, even though omegas were considered valuable, they were also considered possessions. It was a cruel awakening, but Stiles was determined not to let anyone judge him by his gender.

At some point in his late teens, since he’d managed to avoid an official ‘presentation to society’ when he turned fourteen as was custom, he had to undergo the ball that was thrown in his favor. Soon after, he was constantly flooded by courtship proposals, all of which he ignored or outright declined. He had never expected Derek, who was a few years older than him, to be among those proposals.

However, due to a terrible bout of misfortune in which Derek’s father died of a rare disease, he inherited the throne rather earlier than he’d planned. And as such, was crowned king at the tender age of twenty-three. That coronation, however, was significant in more ways than one because otherwise, Stiles may never have known that he’d made a bid for his hand as well. However, one does not simply ignore a courtship offer from a king, and thus Stiles and his father made the journey back to reunite the long lost friends. (It should be noted, however, that they’d tried in the beginning to exchange letters, but due to their busy schedules and the rather tedious wait period between letters, the letters eventually dwindled to the point of nonexistence. A fact that they’d both rather lamented.)

It seemed that once they were reunited, they could not again be parted. Their courtship progressed rather quickly (much to the disapproval of the king’s council) and within two years they were engaged and wed under Stiles’ strict caveat, (“I’ll marry you, Derek, under the condition that no matter what, you absolutely will never tell me what to do with my own body. Agreed?”) to which Derek had gladly agreed. Since then, they’d been most happily married for the next six years until present, when Stiles reached full sexual maturity.

Now, it is a fact of omega biology, that while they might have heats as early as twelve, they are not truly fertile until the age of twenty-five, which is a blessing for many an indiscreet omega who find it easy to hide early dalliances, since no children will come of it. It also means, however, that once they have reached twenty-five, they are absolutely ridiculously fertile and any couplings, with or without the presence of their heat will almost certainly result in children. Which is why the royal household has always placed this coming-of-age in such high esteem, for it is the time in which new heirs are almost guaranteed to be conceived.

Stiles, while he understands this custom, also thinks it’s utterly ridiculous, but as the ever-loving and supportive husband he is, he is more than willing to go along with the custom of Derek’s people. Stiles’ own country has rather more…sedate…customs. None of which involve public nudity, for one.

Stiles donned the ceremonial robes, although they were absolutely nothing like robes. No, the shirt he wore was a sheer, almost transparent piece of white fabric that was attached at his neck with a silver collar and draped down and under his arms, around his torso, and was finally gathered at the small of his back. The lower half of the garment was rather like a skirt with long, flowing strips of overlapping material that trailed behind him for several feet. The skirt was made of the same material as the top, but it was through the sheer number of layers that nothing…popped out…as it were, since the strips were rather narrow. However, when he walked, the skirt would part, showing off the entirety of his legs. It was rather brilliant, actually, how the designers had managed to give the illusion of modesty, while giving the king easy access to all that lay beneath. And then he was given an elegant circlet of a metal similar to silver, but that shone much brighter and wasn’t prone to tarnishing.

Derek’s outfit was of course far more…kingly. It wasn’t really much different than what he wore on a day-to-day basis, which he was sure would annoy Stiles to no end. If anything, the tunic and pants that he wore were of a finer material and embroidered more elegantly. The major difference was that it was snow-white, whereas Derek usually never wore light colors if he could help it. And the headdress, of course, although he fully intended on wearing his crown instead.

When he was ready, Derek headed down to the throne room where he’d wait for Stiles to arrive. He didn’t have to wait long because soon Stiles was walking down the long rug that led to the throne, wearing a smug smirk and Derek felt his mouth water. The fabric flowed around Stiles’ legs and Derek could feel himself grow harder with every teasing glimpse of skin. Finally, Stiles stood directly in front of Derek, mischief dancing in his eyes before he moved forward to straddle the king, capturing his lips in a deep kiss.

Derek moaned, letting Stiles lead the kiss as their tongues twined and his fingers crept higher and higher along Stiles’ thighs. Derek suddenly thought that whoever had designed this outfit was a genius, truly. Stiles’ fingers, lithe and nimble were already tugging at the front placket of his trousers, and distantly, Derek heard the sound of the usual advisors and courtiers entering the throne room, but he couldn’t be bothered at the moment.

Stiles grinned against his mouth as he drew Derek’s length out of his trousers, pumping him once, twice, and leaving Derek shivering on his throne, feeling deceptively helpless. As the sound of petitioners grew louder as they ambled into the hall, Stiles drew back to kiss along Derek’s neck. “How do you want to do this, my king?” He asked, “Front to back? Or facing each other?” And Derek was torn with indecision. However, he knew Stiles’ proclivities, and he was always eager to indulge him.

“Front to back.” He directed, and Stiles smiled knowingly, kissing him again before twisting in his arms. Derek helped him keep his balance as he turned, as well as prevent him from exposing himself to their audience. Stiles’ skirt covered Derek’s lap, for which he was grateful as well. Soon, Stiles was kneeling to either side of Derek, but Derek knew the position wasn’t going to be comfortable for very long, especially not the hours that open court was supposed to last.

“Stand.” He nudged him, and Stiles made a small noise of realization, clambering off of the throne and parting the waterfall of fabric to expose his ass to his husband. He turned and winked cheekily, relishing in the expression on the king’s face. Derek stared at the hole presented to him, mildly startled to find it filled with a large jeweled plug. “Stiles…” He said with a choked-off moan and tugged the plug out, but not before fucking it in and out a couple of times just to see Stiles bow his head and groan.

Their audience was watching them raptly, despite not truly being able to see what they were doing, they certainly had enough of an idea, especially when Derek tugged the plug free of Stiles’ hole and set it down on one of the wide armrests of the throne. Had Stiles been in his heat, such preparation wouldn’t have been necessary, but they both had agreed that his heats were sacred to them and not something that would be witnessed by the court.

Derek tugged Stiles down onto his lap, impaling him in single fluid movement. Stiles whimpered and squirmed, adjusting to the length within him. Derek lifted Stiles’ legs to prop them on the armrests, and Stiles keened at the improved angle, shifting his hips in small, desperate motions since Derek still wasn’t moving. The strips of fabric fell between Stiles’ legs, preserving his modesty.

In the past, the ritual was performed with the participation of the court, allowing each of them to approach the throne and suck the Royal Consort’s cock for an opportunity to have their request heard. When Stiles had heard that, he’d immediately protested, saying that he only ever wanted Derek’s mouth around him. Derek had agreed, even though privately he found the though immensely arousing, the idea that an entire court full of people couldn’t bring his mate the same pleasure as his knot, since everyone knew that an omega couldn’t achieve climax through oral stimulation alone. But that was something that Derek happily kept in his fantasies and out of their bedroom activities.

Now, Stiles’ head lolled onto Derek’s shoulder as the king kissed and sucked his neck, the hands on Stiles’ hips rocking him on his cock. It was bliss that Derek never wanted to end. However, the clock tower rang, heralding the start of court. Derek looked up and nodded at one of his advisors before returning his attentions to Stiles’ gorgeous mole-dotted neck. One by one, the petitioners approached the throne, staring unabashedly at the display before them while making their pleas.

Stiles was fully hard, and he could see when he looked down that the head of his cock had protruded from the strips of fabric and was at risk of becoming fully exposed should Derek jostle him further. He found that as he stared into the lustful eyes of his Alpha’s subjects, that he couldn’t care less. Why shouldn’t he be allowed to show off some? They would never touch him, Derek wouldn’t allow it, and Stiles had a right to show off what a perfect omega he was for his king.

Meeting their eyes, he doubled his efforts, urging Derek to fuck up into him harder, and the king obliged, although his replies became more strained with the effort. Stiles ran one hand up to the side of Derek’s neck, where his bond bite was and wrapped his hand around it in a possessive gesture, even as his other hand reached down to where his cock was peeking out to uncover it and stroke himself leisurely. Derek moved his hands from Stiles’ hips to the backs of his knees, where he pulled him up and spread him open even further.

Stiles lost track of time, only knowing that the king never stopped fucking him, even though he knew Derek must be aching by now. “Alpha…” Stiles whined. “Knot me….please, alpha…” He could see some of the kings’ subjects trying to subtly readjust themselves in their trousers, while others were less subtle and rubbed at their clothed erections. All remained fully clothed, however. This was a sacred rite, not a brothel, after all.

Derek ducked his head to fit his teeth over Stiles’ bond bite, pressing down firmly as his knot began to grow. Never let it be said that he denied his omega anything. “Oh fuck yes, right there, alpha, right there!” He moaned, arching against him as the knot finally caught. “Oh fuck, oh fuck…”

Stiles rubbed at his little omega cock as Derek’s knot grew, feeling the climax grow with every passing moment until finally Derek’s knot pressed against something wonderfully perfect inside of Stiles and the omega cried out in ecstasy. Derek roared out his own release, his eyes flashing red as a warning to all other alphas in the room, staking his claim thoroughly as he pumped Stiles full of his seed.

Stiles continued to stroke himself softly through the aftershocks and let himself drift in and out of consciousness, only jerking slightly with each mini orgasm that came from being so completely filled with his alpha’s cock.

Stiles was distantly aware of the various subjects that kept approaching the throne, but none of them really registered. Eventually, he felt his alpha’s knot go down and he whimpered in protest, but soon felt the jeweled plug pressed back inside of him before Derek’s come could spill out. However, now that they weren’t tied together, he felt Derek shifting behind him, presumably tucking himself back into his trousers before gathering Stiles in his arms and cradling him close to his chest in a manner that was both protective and comforting. Stiles sighed contentedly, burying his face in Derek’s neck, content to doze off for a while longer, sated and sleepy.

Much later, Stiles felt himself lifted and carried, although he didn’t bother to open his eyes, already knowing where they were headed. Soon enough, the familiar sheets greeted him as he was laid down in their bed. He felt Derek begin to undress him, and he sighed appreciatively, eyes fluttering open sleepily just long enough to see Derek’s affectionate smile before smiling back and closing his eyes.