Chapter Text
Peace was once again back in the land of Elyos, and it was time for the heroes who had joined the Divine One in their war against the Fell Dragon to come home.
Prince Alfred and his group traveled back to the Kingdom Firene and were greeted by a celebration for their valiant service. They had no time to rest their weary bones after their long journey as they were forced to the festivity arranged by the queen for them.
The banquet hall of the palace was overflowing with food, drinks, and flowers. Its air carried the merry tunes the band plucked from their instruments. Attendants were in and out of the kitchen. Guests were dancing and singing their hearts out after the months they had been scared for their lives. It had been a while since they had a celebration like this, a scene people feared they wouldn’t experience again after their land had been threatened by evil. But the fact they had the prince, the princess, and their close companions with them in the party was proof that if another danger arose, their lives and peace would eventually be brought back.
Alfred was happy to have had a role in saving the world from the Fell Dragon. He had been afraid he wouldn’t come back alive. It was the toughest battle he had faced. Yet, with his friends, they’d survived.
So the prince ate everything there was, like tomorrow would be his last day alive. It was another excuse to try and put on some weight, that he would turn to muscle with training, and bulk up. In his mind, a king, big and strong, would be a fitting protector for Firene. And now that he had less things to worry about, he would make it a priority.
As the night deepened, Alfred’s tiredness was making itself more known. He was fighting to keep his eyes open, and none of the energy and noise of the celebration helped keep him awake. He had drunk a little wine, but that usually didn’t have an effect on him. It must be the long carriage ride from earlier today. He was ready to retire for the day. Plus, he planned to wake up early tomorrow to train.
“It’s getting late, Prince Alfred,” Boucheron said, hiccupping from his ninth mug of ale. He was a knight who had never left Alfred’s side, even in the hardest battles. And they had gotten closer in their time in the Divine Dragon’s army. “Let me walk you back to your room.”
“I’m rather sleepy, and I don’t want to miss the sun at dawn,” Alfred admitted, looking at the lively crowd yet yawning himself. Because of his energetic attitude throughout the day, he was usually exhausted after dinner. “You don’t have to walk me to my room, Boucheron. Stay, and enjoy your night.”
The bear of a man caught Alfred’s wrist. His grip was bruising, but his palms were soft as a sponge cake. “I insist.”
The prince looked at the knight with a raised eyebrow. “Can you even stand properly in your condition?”
Boucheron quickly rose to his feet, bumping the table and tipping his chair in the process. He puffed his chest as if at attention. “I’m fine, my prince.”
Alfred chuckles. He had been amused by his retainer’s eagerness to help him in any way, even with little things like walking back to his room. He appreciated it as he hated being alone. “Alright. Let’s be quick so you can go back to enjoying the celebration.”
The knight opened the large doors of the banquet hall for him, and they walked the long palace corridors. The jolly sound of the gathering softened as they turned the corner.
“I’ve eaten an entire onion quiche tonight,” Alfred said proudly. “I’ll need to wake up early tomorrow for strength training, to turn it to muscles.”
“Sure, sir,” Boucheron said. It was his usual response whenever the prince mentioned muscles in his sentence.
“How much have you eaten at the party, buddy?” he asked.
The retainer shrugged. “I didn’t keep track, but I ate a lot of fries.”
Alfred faced Boucheron, walking sidewards, to inspect if the man had gotten bigger again. “I’ll never catch up to your size at this rate.”
Boucheron grumbled something that Alfred didn’t understand. Then he added, “I like the way you are, my prince.”
“We have had this conversation a million times before,” Alfred protested. “I’m not staying small.”
“But…” The knight hiccupped, then trailed off. “If you are your size, I can easily protect you from enemies.”
“I should be the one protecting my people,” he said, putting his hands on his waist as they turned the last corner to his room. “I want to be able to protect you from harm, Boucheron. I can’t do that if I’m not at least as big as you.”
The bear of a man smiled lop-sided, almost a little forced. He didn’t add anything to the discussion.
“You know what,” Alfred continued to break the approaching silence, “I’ll be taking you to room instead.”
“But we are in front of your room,” Boucheron said, gesturing to the oak doors in sight. “And I thought you said I should go back to the party.”
“You are drunk,” he concluded. “You need to sleep because we have a long day tomorrow.”
“I’m not sleepy yet.”
“Well, you looked like one,” Alfred said. “I want to make sure you’ll be sleeping in your bed tonight, and not a cold corner in the castle.”
The prince pushed the big guy the opposite way of his room. He was too small in comparison. He pushed with all his might to fight Boucheron’s protest on top of his enormous size. It was as if moving a boulder to the top of a mountain. An impromptu strength training in the middle of the night, Alfred thought. He was sweating, and his blood was rushing as he kept pushing. His crown of flowers hung for its life on top of his head. His fatigue disappeared, and he was wide awake like a nocturnal hunter.
“We’re here,” he announced as they arrived in front of Boucheron’s bedroom, a place he frequented. He opened the door to a humble chamber cluttered with books. Moonlight through the window. He lit the tiny oil lamp on the nightstand, beside the single bed at the corner. He would never understand how his retainer could fit in it.
Boucheron yawned, and Alfred felt like a winner for being right about his sleepiness. “I think it’s time for me to hit the hay. Thanks, my prince.”
“No need to thank me,” he said. “I’m simply worried about you.”
The man climbed his bed, still with his clothes on. “Be safe going back to your room, Prince Alfred.”
“You’re not sleeping wearing your day attire,” Alfred chided. He stomped across the room to pull Boucheron from his bed, but he failed.
“Good night, my prince,” the knight mumbled, lips smacking and eyes closed.
Alfred grumbled. Sleeping with a sun-scorched shirt, rough-textured trousers, and dirty boots was uncomfortable, especially when intoxicated. It was self-torture, if you asked him. He couldn’t stand seeing his friend in his current condition. He opened the window to let the evening breeze in and scanned the room as he tried to think of a solution.
“I’m getting you out of your clothes,” he finally said. “I’m getting you changed whether you like it or not.”
The prince picked out an over-sized garb and soft pants from Boucheron’s closet. It looked comfortable to sleep on, though the white fabric was too thin and almost invisible for his preference.
“It’s not like I’m the one wearing these,” he reminded himself. “Boucheron must be getting warm easily at night with all his muscles if he likes sleeping in these clothes.”
Boucheron was knocked out when Alfred came back. His breathing was a peaceful beat, however, Alfred had already made up his mind.
The prince unbuttoned the man’s vest, then the shirt. He was greeted by the lightly hair-matted chest of Boucheron, and soon, the sculpted stomach he had been envying to have. He had seen them, touched them numerous times, but he had never gotten bored of them. For him, they were art like of a statue of a god. It was the perfect body. If he could just ask the knight to be shirtless for the rest of his life, he would be the happiest.
As heavy as he looked, Alfred pulled Boucheron to sit up. He slid one sleeve off the man’s huge arm. It was tough. Very tough.
“You smell so good,” Boucheron slurred his words in Alfred’s ear. His warm breath sent a jolt on the prince’s body. He was talking in his sleep, Alfred checked. “I always love the floral-scent you have, sire. I would love to breathe everything, but I’m afraid of inhaling you too.”
“It must be the smell of flowers sticking on my clothes,” he said as he pulled off the shirt completely from the knight. “I never wear perfume, but I’m always surrounded by flowers.”
“I love it,” Boucheron said, giggling like a little kid. Then, he fell back to the bed.
Alfred sighed. He could skip his usual routine tomorrow from the workout he was getting helping his buddy change clothes.
“I’m making all this effort because I love you as a friend,” he said to the sleeping man.
Before Alfred could continue in his mission, Boucheron was suddenly moving. His hand specifically. He slipped his hand under his pants. A raging hard-on was tenting under his pants that Alfred had only noticed now.
“Prince Alfred’s smell always gets me hard,” he said, though still asleep.
Alfred’s cheeks were hot, as if struck by a mage’s fire. He had always thought his friend was as pure as a white flower, not someone who had carnal needs. He didn’t know what to do with this new knowledge even though he was well-aware that Boucheron was an adult, very much like himself. They were far from the child they had been when they had first met. He was only realizing that now.
“I’m going to get you changed, then I’ll leave you alone so you can continue on your business,” he decided.
But Boucheron couldn’t hear him. He continued stroking himself, which made Alfred doubt if he really wanted to see what was there.
Alfred swallowed and grabbed the waistband of the man’s pants. “I’m going to remove your pants now,” he said as if asking for permission.
“The prince can do whatever he wants to me,” Boucheron sighed. “He can use my body for his personal needs.”
Alfred ignored him and pulled down his pants to reveal the bear’s massive manhood. He had never imagined a cock could be this big. He had seen it a few times when it was soft when they changed clothes in the same room before training. It was only a knob. But awake, his was nothing compared.
Boucheron’s penis was the length of the prince’s forearm, curving up his stomach. It was thicker than any of the lances Alfred had held in his past battles. A big head, peeking from its sleeve. There were visible throbbing veins too. And the balls looked heavy and seemed to be needing a relief. He kept stroking it, like petting a ferocious beast that could maw Alfred down if he wished.
Like the other parts of his retainer’s body, Alfred was enticed to touch them, feel them with his hands. He needed to know how hard they were, remember their shape, and worship them. His mouth watered like it would always be when seeing the bulging muscles of the guy. What would they taste like? He had always wondered, but he was afraid it would be too inappropriate to ask.
“Prince can touch it,” Boucheron mumbled, and an excitement electrified Alfred’s body.
Alfred had never been ordered by the knight; it had always been the other way around. He had thought the guy would be a scary captain of the royal guards, if Boucheron made it, because of his size. But the man was a softy in reality. A gentle giant. To see another side of his buddy, a very different one, was waking something up inside of him.
He reached for Boucheron’s cock. The skin was warm and supple, but the muscle was hard as steel. He wanted to stroke it like what the man was doing to himself. Even though Boucheron’s hand was big, there was still room for him to wrap his hand on it, so he did and followed his retainer’s lead.
A clear liquid was forming on the tip of Boucheron’s sex. It dripped down Alfred’s hand, and the first thing that came to his mind was to lick it. He was curious about the taste of the bear’s fluid. And his curiosity won.
It was salty, probably from the guy’s diet. But that wasn’t everything Alfred had learned from licking Boucheron’s precum off his hand. He wanted more of it. He wanted to suck more of the juices out of the perfect body of his friend.
However, it was too much.
Alfred swatted the thought away. He had to finish helping Boucheron change into comfier clothes, then he could go back to his room and take care of his own business. He was turned on; there was no denying that. He just couldn’t bring himself to do something nasty to a friend. A childhood friend.
Finally, Alfred managed to take off the pants from Boucheron’s thick thighs. He removed everything, even the socks, and on the bed was a very exposed, gorgeous man, though comfortable with it. He could leave Boucheron like this, but he was afraid his friend would catch a cold.
Will he catch a cold? he reconsidered. He had never seen Boucheron sick.
“Alfred…” Boucheron moaned while still stroking his meat in a gentle manner. “I want you, Prince Alfred.”
Alfred was shocked by what he had heard. Did he mishear? He wasn’t so sure. Why would his friend he had known since they were kids wanted to touch himself to the thought of him?
“Fuck…” Boucheron sighed. “I love your small body. I can carry you whenever I like.”
This isn’t right, he thought.
His friend couldn’t possibly be having obscene thoughts of him. Not wrapping his large arms on Alfred’s body? Not overpowering the prince he respected? Not dominating the smaller man with his brute strength?
Alfred would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about feeling Boucheron’s bare body with his. He wanted to explore his body unhindered. He wanted to memorize every mound of flesh with his mouth. He wanted to rub himself against all the hard muscles. He wanted his heat. He wanted to taste him. He wanted to worship him. He wanted him.
“I’ll make you feel good,” the bear grumbled again. There was a hint of frustration in his tone. He was beating his meat faster now, though he was still asleep. “I want you. I should’ve let you have your way with me before the final battle with the Fell Dragon”
Alfred cursed. “If this is what you wish, I can’t turn you down. I have to help you with your needs. I have to give it to you.”
Alfred stripped his clothes, and while at it, his instincts switched on to worship Boucheron’s perfect body. He kissed the man from the foot, working his way to the leg, then hips, then stomach, then the pink fleshy nipples, until he reached the neck. He inhaled every scent the man had. When he finished, he was out of his attire from the party and ready for a different kind of festivity.
He took Boucheron’s cock in his mouth. First the tip, tasting it, making out with it like it was his friend’s lips. Then he swallowed the man’s length. He only took about a third of it. Anything beyond that would be the death of him.
Boucheron had stopped stroking himself at that point. He relaxed on his back while Alfred did all the work. He was moaning softly, in contrast to the prince’s slurping and choking sounds, like he was being taken to paradise.
With everything he was doing, Alfred doubted Boucheron was still asleep, though his friend wasn’t really awake. He was already too deep in the act to be worried, and Boucheron was too out to care about anything else but the fantasy he was vocal of moments ago. He was simply helping the man to relieve himself.
Boucheron didn’t seem to be coming any time soon, yet Alfred’s jaw was already tired. His cock was wet and sloppy from the prince’s work, but it needed more attention than a mouth and hands could offer.
“If my mouth isn’t enough,” Alfred paused to swallow a wad in his throat, “I guess I have to please you with my ass.”
Alfred wasn’t sure what he was talking about. He had yet to have his experience in bed with someone, though he had heard a little of how to do it, and he was curious about it. Sometimes, he would touch himself at night, rubbing his aching hole and putting a finger in it. There was pain to it, but also the best kind of pleasure.
He straddled Boucheron and reached for the engorged meat. He lined it up his hole, and slowly lowered himself on it. His bottom felt like it was being ripped apart.
“Too big,” Alfred groaned, yet he skewered himself deeper until he was flat on the base. He was too greedy to take Boucheron inside of him; there was no denying that. If he would bleed after this, it was his fault.
Boucheron moaned as Alfred worked up and down his shaft. He was still on his back, not moving, he was only dreaming of his fantasy.
When Alfred’s body finally submitted to the cock it was servicing tonight, he began bouncing on top of the man. He was groaning to the ache and ecstasy of having his channel stroked. There was a blissful sensation growing in him that he needed to chase. He needed it. He wanted it to be his reward for the trouble he was doing to solve his friend’s problem before going back to his own room.
“Do you like that?” Alfred asked. “Do you like it when I ride you like this?”
“Mm-hmm…”
“Your cock is so big,” he sighed. “It feels so good inside of me.”
Boucheron found Alfred’s waist, digging his fingers on the soft skin, which shocked the prince and wondered if he had awakened the man. His eyes were still shut, though his breathing was labored. He raised his knees to a better position, then began pounding into the prince without warning. He was a beast, like when he had held an axe to fight. It was far from the gentle knight Alfred had known until he was inside of him.
Alfred wailed to the feeling. His hole was being pistoned mercilessly. His body was being assaulted with brute force, but there was pleasure. He was helpless and weak, and at the mercy of the bear who snatched control from him. He never knew he needed this, getting his ass destroyed, until now. How would he live the rest of his life without having this again?
But that was a problem for tomorrow. Right now, he had a friend to give his focus to.
Alfred reached for Boucheron’s nipple. He suckled on it as if he could milk it. He didn’t know if he was doing well, but the delighted face of the retainer encouraged him to continue. Though part of him wanted the man’s beautiful green eyes watching him as he worked.
“I’m going to come, my prince,” Boucheron warned. He was racing on his thrusts like a horse on the run.
“I’m with you,” Alfred said. The bliss was ready to shoot out of him.
“I’m going to come inside of you, my prince,” Boucheron repeated, reminding Alfred he was about to do an unlawful deed.
“Give it to me,” he said, hungrily.
On a forceful thrust, Alfred exploded. He saw stars behind his eyelids more beautiful than Elyos had to offer. His channel was tender from Boucheron’s throbbing. Hot liquid slid down his legs as he was left gaping from the cock that had been inside of him a few seconds ago.
“Fucking hell,” Alfred said as he was catching his breath. He had made a mess on the hard stomach of his friend. “Where did you learn to do that?”
But the man responded with a snore. He had drifted off to sleep. A tear fell from the corner of his eye.
Alfred laughed to himself. He couldn’t believe what had happened. “Will you remember this happening when you wake up tomorrow?”
He got to his feet, cleaned up his mess, and continued on his mission to get Boucheron changed in comfy clothes. It took some time, but he was successful.
The prince put back his clothes before slipping out of his friend’s room to go back to his own. He was skipping his steps on the way, overjoyed but also confused. He was puzzled by Boucheron’s drunk confession. Was he more than just a friend to the man? More than a close friend from childhood? He was thrilled to learn more of it, and he was thankful they had all the time in the world for it, especially now that they were back home.
Even though Boucheron couldn’t remember what they had done, Alfred would remember and cherish tonight. He had another thing to admire about his friend. Another big, wild thing about him.