#nikuste

"Your Majesty, may I make your evening more enjoyable?" His voice was sweet as honey and Auguste felt something inside of him freeze up. However, he knew how to play the games at court, although Laurent never believed him, but not even his brother knew about his deepest and darkest wishes. So, it was an easy thing to lean forward with a charming smile and whisper to the pet, "I'm sure you're more than capable of doing so, however, I'm engaged in negotiations with the Akielons. I wouldn't want to make a beauty like you wait for me. Your master would have to go without you for too long. Maybe another time, honey."

The pet pouted a little, but turned with a wink and left. Auguste let a relieved breath escape him, until he remembered where he was and concealed it with taking a large gulp of his wine. He was so exhausted. It cost him monumental effort to keep from rubbing his temple.

"Your Majesty, are you not feeling well?" The deep voice of his dinner companion asked gently. Although, Auguste suspected that he didn't actually sound gentle. It was probably just his own wishful thinking because he really wanted to be treated gentle right then. Auguste slowly turned his head. It wouldn't do to appear too eager. He was the king. He wouldn't hurry for anyone. Facing the Akielon ambassador, he smiled again; it didn't even feel fake anymore.

The fires painted everything red and gold. The sound of the drums was hypnotic and enchanting, all on its own in this atmosphere. It was a good feast. Nik even enjoyed himself. The subtle sensuality of it all was much more to his taste than the blatantly provocative parties the Veretians liked to throw. The Vaskians knew how to be sexy without being utterly shameless. He liked them for this. The mostly female dancers knew what they were doing and nobody would have suspected that they were high-ranking politicians or even royalty. Still, there was class and skill beyond Nik’s comprehension all around him. He was in a deep conversation with Vannes, their host for this evening. She had her eyes on a Vaskian woman, who moved through the guests like liquid. Nik didn’t comment. It was pleasant and they weren’t supposed to be working. Lazily, he leaned back on the low chair. It was good. He was pleasantly buzzed and relaxed and the clothes he wore were so much more comfortable than the usual suit and tie ensemble. Yes, life was very good indeed.

However, when the Vaskian empress asked Auguste to dance, everything took a turn for the worse, because, Auguste being Auguste obviously accepted. Nik had no idea if Auguste knew Vaskian dances, but he had seen Auguste dance Veretian dances and that scene lived rent free in his head ever since.

“Oh by the ancient gods, please no,” he breathed as Auguste stood from his seat and followed the empress to the middle of the dance floor. Everybody fell quiet, even the instruments. The fire illuminated the two rulers in a golden shine. Auguste’s loose, white shirt was see-through from the light, Nik could see his silhouette like a shadow under the material. Fuck. He knew exactly how this wonderful, perfect body felt under his hands and lips.

“Let’s see what the Veretian King has to offer,” the empress announced with a wicked smile on her lips. Auguste laughed and took a bow before her. “With pleasure, Sun of the empire.”

Slowly he approached the handler posted before the room, still in utter disbelief that this man finally, finally knelt on the floor of a playroom. He knew the handler before the door and Nicolas knew him and his reputation because he raised a surprised eyebrow when Auguste stepped up to him.

“I didn’t expect you to show up here, Auguste, especially not if you want him.” He jerked his head towards the man still kneeling obediently on the floor of the playroom, head lowered. 

“Now, that’s just prejudiced, Nicolas. I might prefer women, but have you actually looked at him?” He asked with an arrogant smirk every single member of his family had perfected and the typical deVere drawl that made people either want to punch him or kiss him breathless.

“Oh I have, don’t get me wrong, it’s just that in all the years you’ve been a customer here, you’ve never approached a man. That’s more your brother’s territory.” Nicolas shrugged and then looked at someone over Auguste’s shoulder. “So, you want him?”

“I want him, but I know how this works. Tell me about his limits and we’ll see if we’re a match. I wouldn’t want to be presumptuous.” Auguste looked at the man again, he was really perfect, broad and muscled and strong and still so docile and obedient, maybe a little nervous. Everything as always then. He forced his gaze away.

“Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d suspect this is a match made in heaven,” Nicolas sighed and then continued to tell Auguste what he needed to know for the coming scene. If he hadn’t been better at controlling his facial expression, he would’ve probably started to gape at the employee of the club in unabashed wonder, because honestly, they seemed to fit together in every single aspect. 

“Think you can do it?” It was only a routine question at this point. Nicolas knew everything about Auguste’s limits, what he was willing to do and what not.

“I can and I will, if you let me.”

“Yes. I actually thought about you when he approached us for this. I thought what a shame it was that you only seemed to be interested in women. I mean, it’s as if he looked at all your kinks and ticked them off his list, isn’t it?”

Auguste nodded, his eyes straying to the man again. Completely entranced and even more intrigued now than before. 

“Alright. Safeword is Jokaste or Red. Now, go in there, I’ll have to tell all these soon to be disappointed Doms that he’s taken.” Nicolas waved Auguste inside and the blond closed the door as pre negotiated with Nicolas. The man on the floor didn’t move a muscle. Auguste felt himself stir in his trousers. He stepped even closer and then around until he had walked a slow, drawn out circle around the kneeling man. Only then did he allow himself to touch. He reached one hand out and tilted the man’s face up.

“Hello honey, I’m Auguste, I’m going to be your Dom tonight. What’s your name?”

“My name is Nik, Sir.” His voice was smooth, deep and Auguste felt desire rush through him. Nik looked incredibly beautiful on his knees before him. His thick hair made him want to pull his head back with one hand buried in it until he’d gasp for air. And his lashes— Nik had lashes that painted dark shadows over his cheeks like feathers. Goodness, Auguste had never seen lashes like this on a man and it was an unexpected softness to all the hard angles of his jaw, nose and cheekbones.

“Alright, baby, before we start, repeat your safeword for me.”

“Jokaste or Red, Sir.”

“Very good,” Auguste praised, noted the shudder that seemed to work its way over Nik’s form, and drew his hand back, immediately the man lowered his head again. “Keep looking at me, baby.”

Dark eyes snapped to his face and he held the gaze for a moment, before turning and browsing the selection of tools laid out for him. His favorite riding crop was there too and while he had no intention of taking it to Nik’s flawless backside quite yet, he was still very familiar with other uses it had.

“Now, baby, I talked with Nicolas, he told me what you’re looking for and I assure you, I’m ready to give you exactly what you need. So, I want you to call me by my title, honey, can you do that for me?”, he asked softly. He didn’t imagine the shuddering exhale he heard and turned around, just to see Nik observing him. Good, he hadn’t looked away. Very obedient.

“I can, Daddy,” the words were spoken so softly, they were almost inaudible. And still, it seemed as if a heavy weight had been lifted from Nik’s shoulders as soon as they left his mouth. Relief and trust were written all over his face.

“That’s a good boy,” Auguste praised and stepped closer again. The ridding crop dangling from his hand, before he lifted it to tilt Nik’s head even further back until he was staring right into his eyes.

“And that’s what you want to be, isn’t it? Be a good boy for Daddy?” 

Nik gasped at his words, it was just an audible drawing of breath, but Auguste raised an eyebrow in challenge. He wanted to hear it.

“Yes, Daddy, please, I’ll be so good for you.” He was so eager to please and it was music to Auguste’s ears. He let the crop drag over the man’s exposed neck, down to his chest before replying.