Archive of Our Own

Hubert stares at the tapestry in front of him, and scowls. It is discernibly more faded than it should be. He is already thoroughly sick of the feeling of everything around him being as familiar as the back of his hand and yet at the same time faintly, unnervingly off. The extent of his knowledge of the palace has always been a quiet point of pride for himself. Both his nature and the needs of his calling compelled him to roam its many halls and rooms and quiet, secret places quite often, and he’s normally confident in claiming that he knows every inch of the place. But normal requires him being in his proper time, surrounded by the correct people, and without...

Ferdinand von Aegir and Minister von Vestra walk in through the door at that very moment, veritably on cue, Ferdinand exclaiming, "Of course, Hubert! I shall be more than happy to help. It has been quite novel having the two of you around today, but if there's anything productive we can get out of this situation, I am all in favor of it."

And here is the most unfamiliar familiar thing of all. Hubert knows the voice. And he knows the face, he does, but.. there must be something going on, other than the obvious markers of the passage of time. Those superficial changes alone can't have made this much of a change in his perception. Could they? He’s only gotten a little taller, and a little… broader, in various areas. His face only a little sharper. The hair is of course, quite a notable difference. Better to not dwell up on the hair. Better to not dwell on any aspect of the mystery, from glowingly delighted smiles to muscled thighs.

In short, he's been having a hard time looking at the man directly, and knows he's being cursedly obvious to at least one other person currently in the room. But to betray his awareness of a weakness is the lesser of two evils. Better to cut his losses at that than to succumb to said weakness and its goddess-damned overabundance of hair.

"Well!" Minister von Vestra says, clapping his hands together. "That is excellent news, Ferdinand. I trust you remember what we spoke upon, yes?" and at this last he looks to Hubert. Oh, he remembers alright. He doesn't enjoy it or entirely believe it, but he remembers it. He contents himself with a slight, stiff nod. The one thing he does unreservedly agree on is that there's no real need to discuss it out loud at this juncture. It's sure to make things... messy.

"Very good," Minister von Vestra says, "then we may proceed here and now. Ferdinand?"

"Yes?" Ferdinand says, drawing himself up and ready for action. The gesture is yet another deeply familiar thing made unfamiliar by seeing it performed by this strange, somehow magnified version.

"Please stand here - yes, good - and to set the scene, let us say that we are in the process of greeting one another at some formal event." Minister von Vestra says, arranging Ferdinand so he is simply standing in front of Hubert.

Hubert is not at all sure where this is going, all things considered. He looks to Minister von Vestra, with a raised eyebrow.

Ferdinand looks to Minister von Vestra as well, and then suddenly grins, blindingly. "So, Hubert - what shall I be doing with Hubert, then?"

Minister von Vestra's mouth twitches as well. "Ah, rather awkward. Well, I believe that I shall leave the honor of going by Hubert to myself, here," and he nods at Hubert. How generous of him, to let him use his own name. "And hmm. I shall go by Vestra, perhaps. Or Minister, if you'd prefer."

Ferdinand hums. "That seems like it'd be just as confusing between the two of us, yes?"

Vestra smiles. "Oh, no, Ferdinand, not to worry. Neither of us shall be calling you Minister throughout this exercise. Your role is in the mold of a rather different character. Almost certainly something a good deal less respectable than what the title would call for."

Ferdinand's smile falters somewhat, and then he bites his lip, which is agonizing of him. He is such a source of agitation on every possible front. "Ah, well. I shall do my best to perform to the required standard, I suppose," he says.

"I'd expect nothing less. Well, then, Hubert - I think we shall begin with you kissing Ferdinand on the hand," Vestra says, briskly. Oh, well, just like that. Certainly. It's not like this represents more personal contact than he's been willing to have with Ferdinand von Aegir over the course of his entire life.

A Vestra gets on with doing what must be done, however, and Hubert proceeds accordingly. He takes Ferdinand's hand in his and leans on muscle memory to propel him through the rest as he stridently ignores what seems to be almost a buzz jittering across his skin, originating from the point of contact between Ferdinand's hand and his. He drops his kiss on the back of it, in a societally-approved, perfunctory way, and goes to disengage his hand and step back. Vestra makes a negating sound, and he pauses.

Ferdinand looks over at Vestra. "Why, what is the matter? I thought it was quite well done." Hubert is absolutely annoyed at this popinjay thinking to praise him for performing the very most basic of social tasks. That is surely the cause of the warmth rising in him at those words.

"If that was to be all, then there'd be no point to this, would there? We've all three of us learned to do as much from the time we were able to stand. Hubert, now turn Ferdinand's hand, and this time kiss his wrist," Vestra says, crisply.

"Oh!" Ferdinand says, "My goodness. I see now what you meant by less respectable, Minister."

His inanity helps defuse the notion, somewhat. Gritting his teeth and staying where he is, Hubert briskly turns Ferdinand's hand so that his wrist is available to him, resists the urge to manage to rhapsodize in some way over a simple wrist, of all things, and drops his kiss there. Simple. He's fine. This is nothing out of the ordinary.

"Well, I dare say technique is something that will come with time," Vestra says. Ass.

"I thought it was very properly done!" Ferdinand says, "But you should be aware that it'd normally be considered rather scandalous to take such liberties with your partner."

"Indeed," Vestra says, blandly. "Well, I trust you understand the general idea, yes?"

Hubert nods. He just now realizes he's been frozen in his bow this entire time, so determined to not react that he hadn't left any thought to things like standing up and resuming a normal stance. He does so now, smoothly, as if he meant to wait until this moment. He has very little hope that he's fooling Vestra, though.

"Now, for this next part, I'll ask you to step back for now. I believe this will be better conveyed through demonstration," Vestra says.

Hubert withdraws as requested, with no more haste than what is appropriate, thank you. And then feels a surge of... something, as Vestra immediately steps in to take his place. No time to work it out now, Vestra is watching. He's taken Ferdinand's hand the same way that Hubert just had.

Vestra says, "From here what tactics you employ will be shaped by your observations of the person in question. For now, I will share that Ferdinand is particularly weak in the neck area, especially the front."

"Oh, Minister, must you always be so sinister? You are always going on about weak points and the ways one could murder someone at any given moment, and?!" Ferdinand's tone goes from playfully chiding to a squawk of surprise. "Hubert!" he says, in outrage, and although Hubert can easily deduce that Ferdinand doesn't mean him, he almost responds just because this is perhaps the most familiar that Ferdinand has sounded this entire time.

Instead of bowing, Vestra has used his grip on Ferdinand's hand to pull him in, allowing Vestra to lean in and latch onto Ferdinand's neck, like the ghastly vampire they have often been accused of resembling. He bites delicately, as if to complete the resemblance, and then softly mouths. Ferdinand is unnaturally still for a breath, and then he is pushing at Hubert's head.

"Hubert, just what do you think you are doing? And in front of... in front of Hubert, of all people!" Ferdinand lowers his voice on this last point, in a failed bid at secrecy.

"You make my point for me, my dear," Vestra says. Hubert does make note of that little endearment, truly he does, except he cannot actually assess it because he does not comprehend it. "I don't really see a need to disassemble in front of myself, do you? And I'm afraid that there's at least a little more in this same vein to come in order to accomplish my objectives this afternoon."

Ferdinand huffs, but reluctantly nods. He looks over at Hubert almost shyly. "Yes, well, I suppose I would have not liked to lie about our relationship, exactly." our WHAT. "And it would have most likely come out one way or the other... but I still do not see what on earth this lesson is about," he finishes, frowning at Vestra.

Hubert does not see what on earth could have resulted in this madness. Perhaps this is not the future, as he thought, but some kind of bizarre separate world. Given that he could never see himself changing to the extent that he could possibly hold any sort of desire for any such thing from Ferdinand von Aegir, liar, his brain taunts him, a list of every newly catalogued, tantalizing feature scrolling through his brain, and he certainly couldn't see Ferdinand's viewpoint, not to mention entire world view, managing to change so drastically.

"Oh, not to worry. Hubert, come here - I shall need you to copy my actions here with Ferdinand," Vestra says, beckoning him over. After dropping that little piece of information? Oh, and he couldn't have shared that in their prior discussion, of course not, he had to leave that for this moment where Hubert will... for this intimacy.

Hubert does move in though, still committed to this wretched nonsense. Vestra stands back, giving him the room to work.

Hubert cannot be grateful for it. It's one thing to try to ignore specific points about the vibrant man in front of him, like his wrist, or whatever other particular trivial feature of his that infuriatingly seemed to be tugging at his attention at any given moment. And what a good job you've been doing of that so far, too, his brain adds, unhelpfully. It's quite another to be here close enough to feel the heat of his body and invited to take liberties with his person. The proximity to that hair alone is disastrous. Hubert reminds himself he has not undergone his long years of training for nothing, steels himself, and begins to lean in.

Oh, and there's the scent, all Ferdinand, save for the barest trace of perfumed soap. Ferdinand tends to get into enough manual effort that more often than not he sweats the better part of the scent of any of his fine toiletries off before the day is half done, leaving something uniquely him. Hubert is dimly aware of its presence in the regular course of events, but finds it generally ignorable enough. It signifies Ferdinand, which generally signifies a headache, nothing more. But here, this close, glowing hair starting to brush against his face, he unwillingly now finds it compelling. Meaning that there is yet another sense of his that's been conscripted in the concerted effort reality is making to ruin his ability to keep himself together.

It nearly succeeds. He can barely hold onto his composure, has no resources left to deflect his thoughts, but perhaps in this he is experiencing a sort of luck in that he's too overwhelmed to have any. Silk slides over his face, a small, pleased sound reverberates through his ears and strikes a chord in his heart, a brief impression of warmth and softness under his mouth, once again, and then he is pulling himself back with a jerk. He drops his gaze downwards, trying desperately to get himself back under some sort of control.

"Adequate," Vestra says. Ah, there's something to focus on. Annoyance. "Now, watch closely to the next as well," Vestra says, moving to place himself behind Ferdinand.

Ferdinand appears appropriately wary about having the man at his back, at least. Except that Hubert can't help but notice that he seemingly unconsciously leans into Vestra the slightest amount.

Vestra says, "If the signs thus far are this promising, you can proceed with the next steps," and unceremoniously starts undoing Ferdinand's cravat.

Ferdinand bats at his hands. "Wait, WHAT are you doi- what do you me- what do you mean, promising- wait, pardon, what exactly was it that you needed my help for again?"

Vestra ignores most of this, and continues on. "Ah, allow me to elaborate. See the way he pulls in a breath, just a little, and holds it - his training in holding his composure still holds strong, but he still just can't help but be affected. Even by so little as this."

"Excuse me, but just what are you going on about?" Ferdinand says, blushing, and he has no right to look so positively fetching in doing so.

Ferdinand then gathers himself as if to push Vestra away in earnest, and that's when the man acts. Vestra swoops in, with a soft kiss to the side of Ferdinand's neck that indeed causes Ferdinand to take in the smallest breath, suspended. Then he nips at it, causing Ferdinand to jerk in surprise, and then starts working it in earnest. He makes his way up to Ferdinand's ear, biting and sucking a visibly reddened path, and Ferdinand shudders and closes his eyes. He doesn't seem to notice as Vestra manages to rid him of his cravat at the same time.

Vestra arrives at his ear, tugging ever so slightly at his earlobe with his teeth, and then withdraws so he can check on what he can see of Ferdinand's face. The sight makes him smirk in triumph, and Hubert cannot summon the desired annoyance in response. Can barely bring himself to maintain his awareness of the man's placement, even as dangerous as he knows him to be. Ferdinand's mouth has now parted, all unconscious, and his lips are so red and wet. He's leaned back into Vestra even farther, even arching the slightest bit, and he seems to have abandoned any pretense at composure due to how clearly overwhelmed he is by pleasure.

"Come now, Ferdinand," Vestra says, breaking in on Hubert's musings in an infuriatingly startling way. "You're being rude; you should pay attention to our guest."

And Ferdinand opens his eyes.

----

The first thing that Ferdinand sees is that Hubert looks to be at a complete loss, which is a sight that immediately captivates his attention. He's never seen him so discomposed, not before and not now. It means he's a little too late in noticing that for some reason his Hubert has undone his belt, and appears to now be unfastening his coat.

"Minister," he says, infusing the title with every ounce of awful sweetness at his command, "what is the meaning of this? I do not believe that now is an appropriate time for me to start undressing. Not even to mention how inappropriate it would be to do so here, of all places."

Vestra tsks at him. "Oh pish, to call it undressing is an exaggeration. You're still perfectly decent, after all. This is merely for accuracy, to set the stage for a more casual engagement."

Ferdinand is immediately caught by this puzzle in etiquette. "Well, I suppose we are not quite in public. If it is a private meeting between two companions, there would indeed be nothing out of the way in becoming a little more informal," and even as he thinks through the scenario, Vestra is sliding the coat off of his shoulders.

Ferdinand chances a glance at Hubert. Does he appear to be taken aback? He does appear to be rather intently focused on Ferdinand's newly bared shirt. Then Vestra turns to unbuttoning said shirt, and Ferdinand's worry turns to annoyance. "Now, dearest Minister, I believe it would no longer be an exaggeration if I were to call this undressing, is that not so?"

Vestra pats him on the shoulder. "You are correct my dear, but I only plan on doing just this much. Just for this next part. It'll be ever so helpful of you."

Ferdinand wavers. He is here to be of use, after all... "Well... if it will be as helpful as all that..."

Vestra drops a kiss under his ear, and finishes unbuttoning just one more button down. Hubert draws himself up, Vestra apparently having moved his attention onto him to signal that the next lesson is to commence. "It's skipping some of the setup, but I think we have sufficient practice in the general art of manipulation. What I am seeing is a need to focus on the specific mechanics that have not been used to the same extent. And so, next we will escalate the degree of physical contact. Specifically, focusing on the collarbones. It is rather more daring, but still characterized by a refined sort of air that keeps the proceedings relatively decorous and the subject thus cooperative."

Ferdinand frowns. Far be it from him to interrupt a lecture, but calling this sort of thing decorous in any respect seems misleading at best. Also, he would like to protest being referred to as 'the subject.'

But his various objections are driven from his head at the next, completely brazen statment of Vestra's. "Truly though, the greatest recommendation for it is that it makes Ferdinand practically melt."

"I do no such ... Ohh," and Ferdinand is cut off by Vestra putting action to words. He is... he is relaxing. Only slightly! Vestra's hands are sure, a tease, and Ferdinand is so focused on proving him wrong but instead that focus just results in him concentrating on every moment of Vestra's featherlight touch over sensitive skin. Finally, Vestra stops, and Ferdinand is able to take a steadying breath.

Hubert steps up, slowly, as Ferdinand recovers himself, presumably so that he may copy Vestra's actions once again. Once in place, Hubert reaches out just as slowly. His motions lack their usual grace, sluggish with reluctance, and in the end his hand basically collides with Ferdinand's chest.

Ferdinand sees Hubert flinch the slightest bit, and he smiles sympathetically at him. "Oh, try not to worry about being a little clumsy," he says, brightly, "it's simple enough, I am sure you will get the hang of it in no time!"

Hubert just stares at him in silence for a moment or two, with an intensity that seems quite nostalgaic, somehow. Perhaps he is attempting to steady himself for his next approach. If so, he appears to have been successful, as his movements become much more sure as he next traces the same path Vestra took. Exactly the same, calculated to get the same result, and Ferdinand cannot help himself from... relaxing once again. Part of it is surely that Ferdinand finds he still has a little part of him that thrills to seeing the Hubert von Vestra of his youth focused on him in this way, touching him because he wants to. As the thought occurs to him, he leans into the touch a little, and Hubert looks up absently and freezes at the look on Ferdinand's face. Ferdinand can hear Vestra's suppressed chuckle against his body.

"Once you have him ensared so," Vestra says, "I am NOT," Ferdinand interjects, firmly, but Vestra blithely just keeps going, "you can start the campaign in earnest," and at that he rests his hands at Ferdinand's sides.

Ferdinand freezes and looks behind him. "Is this really... must you really..." he starts, and Vestra's hands slide firmly and slowly up as Ferdinand gets louder and faster. "I really do not see the need for this, I think verbal instruction would suffice for whatever it is you're trying to convey here, I-aaaah!" and Vestra's hands finally make it to their target: his chest. More specifically, his nipples.

Now that he's just in his shirt, there's only so much protection he has against Vestra's clever fingers as they rub in teasing circles. "Hubert, I really must protest, this is not appropriate," he says, forgetting himself, "this is-" and he arches against Vestra as he pinches at his nipples ruthlessly, pulling on them. Ferdinand can hear Hubert make a choked off sound but he can't gather his wits about him enough to look over at him.

"An unsubtle strategy, but quite gratifying," Vestra says, fingers now still, but wholly distracting for all that, Ferdinand just barely keeping himself from panting or squirming. He's gathered himself enough to be capable of noticing Hubert once more, at least, standing stock still, red in the face. He has none of the alert quality that usually underlies his stillness, either. He seems to be entirely disarmed by the sight in front of him.

Then Vestra must make some sort of signal from behind Ferdinand, because Hubert visibly gulps and then steps forward, eyes glued to where Vestra's hands rest. Vestra withdraws his hands correspondingly, caressingly.

Hubert reaches out just the one hand, and that one slowly, and Vestra sniffs in disdain. He does it quietly so that it is just for Ferdinand's ears, but Ferdinand still feels as he is being a little unfair, all things considered.

Hubert is still reaching, so hesitant, and Ferdinand doesn't want Vestra to start sniping at him again, so he reaches his hand out and pulls Hubert's hand in, touching it to his chest. Hubert bites his lip and his hand twitches, then lays flat. Ferdinand pats his hand encouragingly and then he withdraws. Freed, Hubert's hand is restless, seeming to not know what he wants it to do, or maybe unable to stop exploring. Vestra clears his throat, and Hubert actually jumps a miniscule amount, looking up. What he sees has him gritting his teeth and then defiantly placing his second hand on Ferdinand's chest and proceeding to go in for what Ferdinand can only describe as an unvarnished grope.

Ferdinand squeaks a little. "I- oh! That's... that's rather vulgar, isn't it?" he says, as Hubert does not pause his squeezing.

Vestra purrs, "That may be so, but surely allowances must be made?"

"What allowances," Ferdinand only barely not gasping the words out as Hubert continues to grasp at him, seemingly unable to stop.

"Well, how could anyone resist when faced with such a temptation," Vestra says, reasonably.

"Well, I- a temptation, really, Hubert?" he says, looking back at the man he means. He doubts that the Hubert at his chest would register him slipping again, anyways, as he seems to be entirely focused on his current actions.

Ferdinand has never been so roughly handled, as Hubert's clever fingers, now made uncoordinated with inexperience and desire, grab at him. He's careless, pawing at Ferdinand far too crudely to be capable of giving him any sort of pleasure. Surely. Surely it's just having his own Hubert at his back, the gentle warmth of a loving partner that's stirring him so. He bites down on a thin noise that wants to escape him at a particularly vigorous grab.

Hubert then appears to finally remember that he technically has a task to do and he pinches at Ferdinand's nipples, fumbling a little, managing to just grab the desperately straining tips. In his blundering he manages to do it quite hard, too. Despite himself, the sharp jolt of sensation rips a moan out of Ferdinand's throat.

"Very good," Vestra says, in Ferdinand's ear, and he shudders. He can feel Vestra's mouth descend to his throat once again, the wretch adding his own efforts to the mix. He is lost in sensation, each of their touches turning sharp at staggered moments, keeping him off balance, until Vestra pauses to huff in frustration in his ear and moves to pry Hubert's hands off of his chest. It's at that moment that he realizes that Vestra has been unbuttoning his shirt this entire time.

"Now isn't that just like you, to say one thing and then do another! What exactly do you think you're doing here, no, don't," Ferdinand says, but Vestra has succeeded sufficiently in his aims to be able to pursue a direct attack on his newly uncovered chest, and he can only gasp.

He sees Hubert in front of him, paused in the middle of massaging his hands in the manner of a cat grooming after a spill. His eyes are laser focused on the workings of Vestra's too-clever fingers on Ferdinand's bared nipples, and he doesn't quite seem to be breathing.

Ferdinand attempts to get out in a rush between gasps, "I don't see at what point this sort of thing would ever be appropriate! What sort of occasion would call for this kind of behavior? This is not how a noble behaves!" and Vestra and Hubert share a Look.

Vestra says, "Is that so? Then what does it mean when a noble enjoys it as much as you do, Ferdinand?"

Ferdinand squirms. "I do not, this isn't proper, it is indecent," but he's barely able to get the words out. His hands are at Vestra's as if to stop them, and he does want it to stop, absolutely, and he will take action to rid himself of these unwelcome touches. Surely. Any moment now.

Vestra bites and sucks at Ferdinand's throat and Ferdinand is dimly aware that all the while he is also pulling his shirt off of him, smoothly maneuvering Ferdinand's arms as needed, and this is it, he will put a stop to this any second now. This is truly unacceptable behavior. Things were somewhat suspect before, but he is now fully and actually bare to the waist! In a setting where ladies could potentially be present!

Vestra, Ferdinand having utterly failed to oppose him in his wicked aims, withdraws from Ferdinand's throat. The shiver that overtakes Ferdinand is due to the absence of his warmth and the cooling dampness on his neck and nothing else.

"Now, Ferdinand, thanks to your cooperation, we are able to proceed with the lesson," and not pausing one moment as Ferdinand splutters, Vestra turns to Hubert and continues, "Now I know you've had your fair share of lessons on the base construction of the human body, but I know from experience that those lessons were presented with what you might call a very narrow focus. Let's revisit them in a new light, shall we?" and Ferdinand sees Hubert move to join Vestra behind him.

Now that he has a moment to try to catch his breath, what is he to do about this outlandish behavior? He's properly outraged, of course, but can't help but notice that he also feels a little bereft. Which is nonsense. To be left alone and untouched was what he wanted, was it not? Aside from also being decent once more, and he notes that naturally Vestra has managed to spirit his ill-gotten shirt away somewhere that is not immediately apparent. Fine, then he will allow them their little lesson, and then demand his shirt be returned.

He feels the lightest brush of his hair against his body as Vestra carefully parts it and brings it to fall over his front. Ferdinand rather appreciates the cover, although he is well aware that the same man providing it is the one that's responsible for the need for it.

"The various properties of the neck are of course well known to us, its vulnerabilities and weaknesses. And indeed, we have explored one such additional weakness," and Ferdinand feels Vestra's fingers slide across the front of his neck, presumably in illustration. He's not at all certain that the reference requires something more like a grip, but can't bring himself to offer a critique. Which is due to his respect for Vestra’s skills as an instructor, and has nothing to do with the rush of lightheadedness that the action causes.

Vestra's fingers trail away, lingering, and shift until he has now just the one finger placed lightly on the raised jut of Ferdinand's spine. "In this case, although there's a marked difference in sensitivity between the front and the back of the neck, you still have a few effective options at hand." And Vestra's hand moves to encircle the back of his neck in illustration.

Ferdinand hisses out a breath. That is undeniably foul play, as well as something that he had not actually thought that his Hubert had noticed! Vestra's grip firms and Ferdinand cannot keep himself from whimpering.

"In this, but also in general, a firm touch will serve you quite well," he says, and flattens his hand to stroke down the length of Ferdinand's back, sending a tingling rush through Ferdinand's body. "See the development here, the pleasantly vast expanse you have to work with? Also, the tension," he adds, in a rather more disapproving tone. "One other tried and true way of establishing a connection with someone can be in offering your services as a masseur. Especially when such services are needed as badly as they are here. A strong indication of overwork, I believe."

Ferdinand turns so that Vestra may see his perfectly raised eyebrow properly. "I see now comes the point in this little lecture for the pot to be calling the kettle black."

Vestra sniffs, refusing to engage, and instead his hands spread across Ferdinand's shoulders and start working on them expertly, thumbs digging in. Ferdinand's head turns back to the front, almost involuntarily. He can't help a sigh of relief as he feels himself relax.

"In addition to advancing your aims, the responses you get to the act also tend to be quite gratifying on their own," Vestra says, keeping his voice to a soothing murmur. He makes his way across Ferdinand's shoulders, and then back up Ferdinand's neck. Ferdinand contentedly hums, beginning to drift ever so slightly as he loses himself to the rhythmic motions and warm touch.

Then Vestra’s hands move down to his sides, slow and relaxed, deliberate, fingers beginning to position themselves just so, and Ferdinand snaps himself out of his pleasant haze. "Now the sides, of course, tend to be," Vestra begins, and Ferdinand smacks his hands away then and there.

"I was merely going to mention the fact that they’re particularly sensitive, nothing more" Vestra says, enormously wounded. Ferdinand shoots him a look, not fooled in the slightest.

Vestra's eyes smile, just the slightest bit, and then he resumes, "Well, moving on from that. The lower back is quite a delight as well. Actual dimples, see?"

Ferdinand is losing his patience. "That is quite enough of that, thank you."

He hears a stifled chuckle from behind him. "Well, if you say so, my dear," Vestra says, amicably.

Vestra begins drawing around to his front. Ferdinand looks to the side, putting on an air of indifference. In response, as Vestra brushes his hair to lay on his back once more he gives him a soft kiss on his cheek, as though that will buy him any credit. Especially as he appears to still be continuing on with his little lesson, gesturing to Hubert to stand by him once more.

"We've already touched upon some of the territory here, but I believe a refresher is still called for," Vestra says.

"Oh, you believe so, Minister? Have you that little faith in your teaching abilities?" Ferdinand asks, sweetly.

Vestra only smiles back at him. "I think it's a subject that's well worth exploring in detail," he says, absolutely shamelessly. Hubert, having arrived, is currently looking somewhere over Ferdinand's shoulder with a face like stone.

"One of the reasons I'd like to revisit this is to see if Hubert can get to it on his own, this time. With perhaps a touch less, ah, vulgarity, perhaps." and Vestra smirks.

Hubert smiles thinly back at him, and moves forward as directed. He pauses for a long breath, once again looking at some point that's not quite Ferdinand, hands flexing. Then he seems to steel himself, and his gaze moves to his intended destination.

His hands come up quite quickly this time, fastening themselves to Ferdinand's chest. His touch is also not as ruthless, more truly exploratory. The movement of his hands is still too rough and too soft by turns, but now that Hubert can no longer absent himself from where he is and what he is doing his eyes are burning in a way that's almost more distracting than any of the rest of it. Ferdinand is finding it unexpectedly very difficult to just stand still and not do anything except feel.

"The little flirt of hipbones here is not only quite lovely, it's another productively sensitive area. Go on, try it," Vestra says.

Hubert grits his teeth audibly enough that Ferdinand catches it, and a look that is very nearly despair crosses his face. He woodenly moves his hands down to Ferdinand's hips, and jerkily rubs at the skin there.

Vestra tsks. "Ferdinand, please pin his hands down for me, will you?" and Ferdinand gently places his hands on Hubert's, flattening them, feeling moved to help him once again in the face of Vestra's scorn. Also, it was getting to be somewhat uncomfortable.

"Why don't we take a moment here," Vestra says. "Just sit for a bit."

Ferdinand is actually a little worried about the fate of Hubert's teeth at this point. Hubert's fingers twitch under his, and then take on a more natural curve. His thumbs start absently moving across his waist, which is... certainly not distracting, since he must mean nothing by it.

"Now, Hubert, why don't you move your way back up again, but with that firm touch we talked about," Vestra says, and Hubert moodily obeys, as Ferdinand draws his hands back.

All things considered, it's not surprising that Hubert shares Vestra's same knack for applying the perfect amount of pressure, leaving tingling and warmth along the path of his hands as they drag up his stomach until they rest on his chest once again. His fingers splay out slightly, digging in the slightest bit, but otherwise are still.

"Now back down again... yes, very good," Vestra says, and Ferdinand bites his lip to try to keep silent as that same perfectly firm pressure descends down further and further, to where he is... not thinking about at the moment. "Alright, now move onto unfastening the trousers," Vestra says, and Ferdinand is almost distracted enough to let that pass. But not quite.

Ferdinand grabs at Hubert's hands, which have already begun to obey their instructions, Hubert seeming to have been more than distracted enough, and Hubert freezes.

"No really, this is surely going too far now?" Ferdinand says, looking to Vestra. He wishes his voice were more steady than it is.

Vestra says "I'm afraid there's no getting around it, it's quite necessary."

Ferdinand realizes that he is squeezing Hubert's hands quite hard, and consciously eases his grip slightly. "In what possible way could this be necessary?" He tightens his grip once again as Vestra begins to circle around him.

"I don't know how you could possibly expect us to able to continue on otherwise," Vestra says, in his ear, hands sliding down treacherously. Ferdinand abandons his grip on Hubert's hands to grasp at Vestra's instead, but he has something of a sinking feeling. He glares as fiercely as he can at Hubert, just in case.

"I do not know why I should possibly care," Ferdinand says, "and I do not - stop that at once, Hubert," he says, briefly letting go of one of Vestra's hands to smack at Hubert's, which just as he feared seem to once again be taking direction from Vestra. Vestra of course takes immediate advantage of his chance, getting his trousers unfastened in a flash, even one-handed as he is, and Ferdinand hisses in displeasure, belatedly grabbing at Vestra's errant hand once again.

"I thought you wanted to be of assistance? How unreliable, Ferdinand," Vestra says, and Ferdinand huffs.

"You will have to try harder than that to-Hubert!" Ferdinand says, as Hubert's hands snake around his hips, under the waistband of his trousers, "I really must insist - this is fully indecent! This is," and suddenly it strikes Ferdinand in a flash that there is a rather pressing issue that will be revealed if this keeps up. As Hubert pushes down, Ferdinand's hands fly down to preserve some element of his decency.

"There you go dear, very good," Vestra says, right in his ear, and Ferdinand can only grit his teeth.

He finds himself complaining almost mindlessly as the two of them proceed, Hubert drawing down his trousers and Vestra kneeling down to take care of his boots. "Minister, this can't really be necessary, can it? It's broad daylight! We are in a public room! Anyone could come by! Did you even lock the door?"

Vestra shrugs and says "Oh, probably."

For goodness sake. "Hubert!"

"Minister, dear, remember?" Vestra purrs.

Ferdinand's eyes narrow down at him. "You are enjoying this entirely too much, I believe."

Vestra swoops up and kisses Ferdinand sweetly. And as soon as Ferdinand reflexively relaxes into the kiss Vestra's true aim is revealed as he grabs Ferdinand's hands and pulls them away, exposing Ferdinand's insistent erection. "I don't think you have the room to chide anyone for their enjoyment here, Ferdinand," he says.

Ferdinand squeaks and immediately breaks Vestra's grip to put his hands back where they were. He hears a small, not quite stifled enough noise of disappointment from Hubert.

Vestra strokes Ferdinand's hands coaxingly. "Oh, no, you have to let him look, Ferdinand, it's educational."

"I do not believe that particular education is necessary!" Ferdinand says, feeling his face grow even hotter.

"It is absolutely necessary," Vestra says, tracing his hand over where Ferdinand is desperately covering, as if he's tracing directly over what Ferdinand is hiding. Ferdinand's hips jerk a little and then he has to bite back a moan as he pushes himself into his cupped hands. "See, and it appears to be risky, keeping your hands where they are," Vestra says, cajoling. "Just keep them at your sides and we'll just look. That's all. You'll calm down if you're not being touched, won't you? Your strength of mind will pull you through."

Ferdinand narrows his eyes. "I don't see why my strength of mind would not suffice for me as it stands. Especially if, as you so kindly suggest, I am indeed no longer being touched," he adds, pointedly.

Vestra grimaces, and begins "But the lesson," but Ferdinand is firm. "No, I believe I shall be taking you up on your offer, Minister. You may proceed as you have proposed. Just looking."

Vestra sighs, as if nobly suffering under a deep disappointment. Ferdinand merely glares. Vestra raises his hands in surrender. "All right, all right. We had better get on with things then," he says, and he ushers Hubert to stand with him behind Ferdinand.

Ferdinand feels himself tense at the two being out of his sight, but perhaps in his current situation it's for the best.

"Now. Need I say anything? Quite a well defined example of... musculature. Take in the thighs as well. Unfortunately, it seems that I'm limited in my ability to provide a practical demonstration, but rest assured that the inner thighs especially have quite a bit of potential. And this little nook, here, should not go unexplored," Vestra says, and to illustrate he cups one of Ferdinand's buttocks in one hand, over his drawers, lifting it slightly to illustrate the nook in question.

Ferdinand ruthlessly pushes down his impulse to squirm, and almost as successfully suppresses his shiver. "I believe you'd said that there'd be no touching?" he asks, icily.

"Oh, I'm not touching you, I'm touching your clothing," Vestra says, easily.

"Ah, is that how it is?" Ferdinand says, "well, oh so clever wording aside, I was not born yesterday, and that is clearly-what are you doing?" He can feel a gentle tug at his waistband.

"Shh, don't fret," Vestra says, "we just need a slightly better look, is all. Still just looking." And Ferdinand can feel him pull at his drawers, drawing them down.

"Hubert!" Ferdinand hisses, and grabs as well as he can at the front of his drawers as they continue their slide down while still trying to maintain his coverage of certain areas. He can feel cool air against his rear, though, and he knows he's been exposed.

He turns around to make his righteous indignation properly known, and finds himself yet again tonight struck deeply by the sight of the imposing Hubert von Vestra of his youth so visibly discomposed, practically glassy eyed, almost helpless.

Ferdinand hesitates, and Vestra breaks in. "Dear, could you turn around and move up, just a bit?"

Ferdinand transfers his gaze to him, unamused. "What is it now?" he asks, adjusting his drawers back up as much as he can while trying to be somewhat circumspect about it.

Vestra tuts at his actions, but only answers, "I just realized that there's a slightly more optimal place to conduct some of these lessons." And he steps forward, slowly, as if that alone sufficed to obscure what he was doing. Ferdinand steps back immediately, guarding what's left of his dignity on multiple fronts. He's definitely keeping an eye on that Hubert as well. As he watches Hubert, he sees Vestra move in once more and he steps back once again, but finds himself butting up against a settee, and he realizes with chagrin that this must have been Vestra's plan the entire time.

"Now, if you'll just turn around," Vestra says.

Ferdinand narrows his eyes. "And then what, might I ask?"

"I just need you to perform one little, really trivial, physical task for me. And, well, I believe that you must surely be capable of it..." Vestra says, trailing off with a delicate note of doubt. Ferdinand knows he's goading him, he can't not know. But at the same time, as ever, he rises to the challenge.

"Fine, if it will get this little exercise done faster," he says, tossing his hair and turning to face the settee, a little wary.

"Excellently done, exactly what I wanted," Vestra says.

Ferdinand tries to keep the satisfaction hearing that brings him out of his voice as he asks, "Well, what now?"

As if in response, Vestra comes up behind him and gently threads a hand through his hair, cupping his head and kissing him on the side of his forehead, chaste. And then before Ferdinand can cry foul at the touching, Vestra uses his grip to turn Ferdinand's head around to face forward, his hand sliding down Ferdinand's neck until it is between his shoulder blades, and he is smoothly pushing Ferdinand down. Ferdinand's hands fly up without his input to try to brace himself, but the steady pressure continues until he ends up bent over the settee.

"Goodness, just what are you thinking?" Ferdinand says. He's going for judgemental, maybe arch, but knows it's coming out flustered instead as the gesture and the pose are far too reminiscent of other times. Other times that were conducted in a much more proper setting, at a much more proper hour, in much more proper company, as in, no one else present who could stare at him so! He tries to hold on to his indignance and balance both as Vestra deliberately pushes at his legs to loosen his footing and make him bend over even farther.

"Don't fret, Ferdinand," Vestra says, hand sliding up to the back of his neck and squeezing, which is entirely unfair. "Just this one last thing, and we'll be done with this part."

Ferdinand knows that Vestra is being very particular about his phrasing there in a way that merits notice. But after everything that's happened his drawers have gone askew, meaning that his now only partially covered cock is pushing directly against the fine sheen of the settee, and the gliding stimulation is consuming all his ability to think clearly. Vestra tugs at Ferdinand's hips, encouraging him into rocking just a little bit more. Ferdinand has to bite back a whimper, which he only manages to accomplish through truly heroic efforts as Vestra continues to manipulate his body to his liking. Vestra's feet then push at his once again, splaying them outward, and Ferdinand realizes the distraction meant he hadn't noticed the tug for what it actually was until it was too late. Vestra has rid him of his last remaining scrap of clothing and dignity both.

"Curse you," he says, as he feels a flush overtake him. "You are not as subtle as you think, Minister." The last comes out a little unsteadily as his situation truly begins to sink in. This is completely undignified, indecent, and this pose is - means that he's showing - he can't bear to think of it. Has to stop, before he starts rutting in earnest against the smooth fabric that is currently tormenting him.

Vestra chuckles indulgently. "Now, Hubert," he says. Ferdinand does not hear movement, but as Vestra, the liar, pushes his cheeks apart, he does hear a harshly indrawn breath from very close by. Apparently Hubert had made sure to keep a very close eye on the proceedings the entire time.

"A lovely sight indeed, is it not?" Vestra says, and with unerring timing glides one demonstrative finger over Ferdinand's hole and in just the slightest amount, just in time to forestall Ferdinand's righteous wrath at just how very underhanded he has been. Desperately maintaining some shred of composure takes up all of Ferdinand's attention, and he loses his train of thought. "So sweet and tight, so lovely and giving. It's everything you could have wanted in a fuck and then some," Vestra says, caressingly.

Ferdinand cannot be pleased about this praise. It's crass. Who would even want to have their... would want to be praised so, for such things? It's not like he could even claim credit for having... for doing anything to earn these kinds of compliments. He desperately tries to convince himself of that while also holding back his squirming, feeling his face flush even more. His hands twitch, wanting to hide his face, his anything, but he needs them to hold himself up and maintain some scarce amount of balance

Ferdinand has at least managed to retain enough presence of mind to chide Vestra for the blatantly obvious. “Pardon me, Minister, but that seems to undeniably be you touching me.”

Vestra smooths a hand over his hip in infuriatingly noncompliant apology. “Fair point, dear. I shall behave from now on.”

Ferdinand would like to see it. But the sooner they're done here, the better, and so he remains silent.

"Now as you have seen, Ferdinand is quite susceptible to touch. It takes hardly anything to make a mess of him."

Ferdinand hmphs.

"And it's such a pleasure all of its own. You can feel the vitality of him through his skin, his warmth. Even without touch, there's such gratification in just the looking. To see him as he is now is breathtaking, is it not? Those hips, those thighs, the extraordinary curve of that ass. And of course, that wonderfully generous hole of his.

"Fucking him with your fingers is very close to being as good as fucking him with your cock is. He gives way so sweetly, takes you in so readily. You're onto two fingers before you'd credit it, if you'd like, but it's so much more satisfying to make him wait for it. Tease at his entrance, just give him the slightest taste of what he enjoys so much."

"I would like to point out that we seem to have left the realm of anatomy in this little lecture," Ferdinand says, grasping for any single thing that could distract him.

"Well, Ferdinand, I'd like you to tell me how one would accomplish the deed under discussion without getting anatomy involved," and Ferdinand can just hear the smirk in his voice.

"You are impossible," Ferdinand hisses. Being infuriated is quite distracting, but not quite as... calming as he would have hoped.

"Really, I say that, but he's gratifying to toy with no matter what method you choose. If after a little tease you come at him swift and sharp, stuffing him the instant he's barely ready, he responds gorgeously, practically fucking himself on your fingers, barely full enough but so needy he'll take all he can. Give him your other fingers to suck, and you can feel the relief run through him, melting him between your hands. There's just no wrong move you can make when you're working with someone as hungry for cock as Ferdinand is," Vestra says. For once sticking to his word, he does not touch Ferdinand at all, does not even stand close to him, just goes on and on in that voice of his.

He pauses and Ferdinand can hear the noises he's making now, the small whimpers, and he wants to stop them, he truly does, but he is no longer enough in control. He feels loose, sloppy with want.

Then Vestra's presence comes closer, his hand on his shoulder, and he's bending down to speak in his ear. "Sweetheart, you're staining the fabric," he says, softly. Ferdinand abruptly realizes that he's been gently thrusting against the back of the couch. "Let's get you up off of there," he says.

As Ferdinand rights himself, blushing furiously, Vestra takes his hand with the air of a gallant in order to assist. Ferdinand gives him a look to let him know in no uncertain terms that he is fooling no one. In response, Vestra unhooks his cape and whirls it around Ferdinand with a flourish. Ferdinand sniffs, refusing to be impressed. But the warmth is really quite welcome, as well as the chance to hide for a second.

Vestra moves in as though to block him from view, with one sneaky hand making its way into the cape to cup at his hip. Shielding him like he hadn't just been baring him, rubbing circles on his bare hip, Vestra murmurs in his ear, "Now, dearest, we've come to the most important point we need to work on with my younger counterpoint. I am concerned with his... stamina."

Ferdinand says faintly "Oh?" and despite himself can feel his gaze going a little hazy. He cannot help it if there are certain... associations he has with that word.

"Yes," Vestra says. "Utterly vital."

"I..." Ferdinand says, frowning the tiniest bit, and Vestra continues, "And we absolutely need you for this, Ferdinand, there's no one else I would even begin to consider. Your help here will be of the utmost importance."

Ferdinand huffs out a breath. But even knowing that Vestra can have nothing decent in mind, he cannot help it. He is called upon, and he answers with a nod.

"What do you mean, stamina," breaks out from behind them. They both turn, and see Hubert looking annoyed behind them. "Is my part here done yet, or no?"

Vestra smiles, and the fact that is genuine does not lessen its foreboding power one whit. "Oh, I am afraid that your part is still fundamental to the whole proceeding."

Hubert sneers, unimpressed. He gestures at Vestra as if to say get on with it.

Vestra disengages from Ferdinand and walks over to a generous armchair. "Now, if you'll be seated here, as I believe that this shall work nicely for our purposes, and if you will also kindly get out your cock once you are settled."

Hubert only blinks at Vestra's patient face. "Well? Have you lost track of it, perhaps? I would currently find that somewhat hard to believe," Vestra says, casting a judgmental look at Hubert's lap.

"I'd have thought that you would know better than to think I'd jump at such amateurishly obvious bait as that. Pray tell, why on earth would I do such a thing?” Hubert says, icy.

Vestra smiles at him for several long, awkward moments. Ferdinand pulls the cape around him more closely. The two of them together seem to have sucked all the warmth from the room.

"Well?" Hubert finally says, impatient.

Vestra still does not speak, but rather looks at Hubert as though he is being rather dense, and then pointedly turns to look at Ferdinand. Ferdinand blinks. He would actually rather not have attention called to him at the moment. He's sure that he's quite a mess, his hair all in disarray, and there's only so much his Hubert's cape can do to make him decent. Nevertheless, Hubert's gaze follows Vestra's and is caught, seemingly unwillingly. Vestra waits a few breaths more, and then gestures towards Ferdinand as though that should explain all. Bewilderingly, it seems to have, as Hubert swallows and then casts a resentful glance at Vestra. Slowly, he sits, and slowly he begins to open the fastenings to his trousers, and Ferdinand has to hurriedly look elsewhere in the room.

He's almost certain he hears a hastily muffled snicker, but when he goes to look at the quite probable source he sees only his Hubert's blandest face. The way it brightens subtly when he meets his eyes touches his heart more than he currently wants it to, but there is no helping it, he supposes. He just must be sure to not let on that it is so, as too much of that sort of thing will absolutely get to the man's head.

Ferdinand steels himself as the man in question comes over, and nearly all his efforts are immediately wasted as Vestra takes Ferdinand's hand and gracefully bows over it, kissing it with a reverence that is all too disarmingly sincere. Dancing eyes flick up to his, as the cad absolutely knows what he is about by this display.

"Now comes the time for me to truly call on your services, my dear," Vestra says, nearly apologetically. Which means he's almost certainly faking the sentiment.

Ferdinand raises an eyebrow. "Has it, now?"

Vestra nods, humbly, and he is absolutely still dissembling as he pulls Ferdinand towards the chair where Hubert is sat. Ferdinand makes several connections all at once, and feels his entire body flush. "Stamina, Hubert, really?" he says, and it comes out much weaker than he'd like. It's all too easy for his mind to recall what had just been discussed at such length and dwell on it.

"I just said so, did I not?" Vestra says, with the slightest bit of reproach. Ferdinand does not know why he puts up with him, really he does not.

"And am I to... where shall I..." Ferdinand ventures, having arrived at the... chair. Hubert is ferociously avoiding looking at his person.

"Well, first, let me take this," Vestra says, reclaiming his cloak with a solicitous air. Ferdinand just barely allows it, casting him a dark look. "And I'd have thought at least the next step would be obvious, my dear, given the enthusiasm that you seemed to display while listening to the lesson."

Ferdinand glares indignantly at him for that, but he's quickly sobered by the implication. "Then he is. That is, we are to be..." and Ferdinand feels his lack of dress all over again, skin tingling. Hubert's cock, flushed and tall, awaits him impatiently, and he has no guard whatsoever against its presence. And he's agreed to this, given his word.

He can see Hubert's hands tighten on the chair as well. Vestra leaves them both no more time to worry, though, pressing a hand to Ferdinand's back. "Up you go, my dear, that's right," and Ferdinand slowly levers himself up as requested, knees placed to either side of Hubert's narrow hips. Vestra guides him so that he is bracing himself on the back of the chair, kneeling over Hubert's lap. And its occupant. His chest feels rather awkwardly close to Hubert's face, who seems to be in agreement with him if the slightly panicked look he's giving it is any indication.

"Here you are," Vestra says, pressing a vial into Hubert's hand. "Let me know if you are in need of any assistance, of course."

Hubert bares his teeth, but manages to get out smoothly enough, "Naturally."

Ferdinand drums his fingers on the back of the chair. This is an awfully awkward position to be waiting in, not to mention a rather vulnerable one. He sees Vestra circle around out of the corner of his eye, and flushes yet more to think of the sight that would present itself to him from that perspective.

Then he hears the small thock of Hubert opening his vial, and his attention is suddenly diverted quite violently. He's done this before, so why does this still feel new? Forbidden? He sees Hubert's hand reaching towards him, shaking ever so slightly until it disappears from his sight. He looks down on the familiar but long gone sight of his messy waves of hair, and cannot quite believe that he is really going to be taken here, by him, until he does feel the first brush of his tentative fingers.

Ferdinand jumps, just the slightest bit! and hears a tch from Hubert, and again that stifled chuckle from Vestra. Hubert grips at his hip with his other hand to keep him still, and presses in once more, more firmly now. Pressure, and then his finger has breached him, made its way inside. Ferdinand shivers at the feel. Hubert ventures on, a little stiffly, continuing to push in and out, shallowly and slowly. Ferdinand ventures a peek and sees him staring a little bit glassy eyed and unfocused, and his hand is gripping his hip quite tightly. Behind him, Vestra tsks, and Ferdinand can see it when Hubert's sense returns in response.

"I know I said there was no wrong way to go about it, but I do believe you have found it, insamuch as there is no 'go.' You do have to progress at some point," Vestra says, bored.

Hubert hisses out a breath, but seems to take his point, and slowly presses another finger at Ferdinand's entrance.

The way he is only barely applying pressure is agonizing. Ferdinand is trembling in anticipation, feeling that pressure increase more and more and more until he gives way and the second finger finally makes its way in, making him even fuller. But not full enough. He currently hates Vestra for his prior words. They've made him all too aware of the need burning inside him, the emptiness that indeed is not at all satisfied by something like just two fingers hesitatingly exploring him. And it has also made him all too aware of the fact that his instinctive action is to in fact fuck himself down on those fingers, to try to get more of what he needs. Knowing doesn't keep him from acting, though, and as his hips start to press down he hears something of an actual gasp from Hubert. Gratification zings through him, and he finds himself pressing even more, motions turning beseeching.

"Yes, dear, you need it so badly, don't you? Come, Hubert, have you a heart of stone? Give him what he wants, add another," Vestra says. Ferdinand bites back a moan, fights down a desire to add his own plea.

Hubert takes in a breath and adds another finger, as instructed. He is once again so careful, only pressing the smallest amount at first, and Ferdinand half sobs at knowing that he's going to feel that slow torment again. Then he does sob as Hubert withdraws his fingers.

"Shh, sweet, it's fine, he's just adding more oil," Vestra says, coming up now to rub at his shoulders.

Hubert hastily moves his hand up to Ferdinand's entrance again, fingers dripping, pressing inside a little more urgently this time. Ferdinand tenses, longing and empty and waiting and waiting until all three fingers abruptly break in, and he can't help pressing into them so greedily after having been abandoned.

Hubert groans, helpless. His face is fully red, wild eyed, his air a mess, and his eyes are no longer glassy but desperately hot on Ferdinand, two points of burning green. His fingers fuck up into Ferdinand even harder and Ferdinand croons, finally getting a small portion of what he's been longing for ever since his Hubert pushed him down on that thrice damned settee.

Ferdinand takes it contentedly for a moment or two before he finds his hips moving once again, needing even more. Hubert responds in kind, and things seem to be going splendidly until Vestra clears his throat from behind him. They both pause in response.

"As lovely as this sight is, I believe we now need to move onto the crux of the exercise," he says. For once, his voice is not perfect, but rough in a way that makes Ferdinand fuck downwards just the once more, in spite of himself. Vestra and Hubert both tighten their grip on Ferdinand. Then Vestra releases him, and nods to Hubert, who slowly withdraws. Ferdinand mourns the absence, the return of the emptiness.

"It is time for Ferdinand to sit on Hubert's cock and stay there," Vestra says. Ferdinand cranes his neck to look up at him, confused, and he can see Hubert also staring at him out of the corner of his eye. "Stamina," Vestra says, smirking, flourishing his hands. "We shall see how long Hubert can last while Ferdinand keeps his cock warm."

Hubert huffs out a disbelieving breath, and Ferdinand squirms a little. He is just to... wait there? Just wait, cock inside him, nothing more than a place to keep it, full but not satisfied, unfucked. His emotions swing wildly, even as he can see Vestra motion to Hubert to prepare himself, and Hubert sullenly holds his cock steady.

"Ready, dear?" Vestra murmurs to him.

Ferdinand is always ready when called upon, so he nods, and shakily positions himself and lowers down. He and Hubert are in synch, and he proceeds almost too smoothly, no time to think about what he's doing, taking the whole of Hubert in at once and it inexorably pushes its way inside him until he's fully seated, naked on the lap of a fully clothed Hubert, his cock tucked away inside him, filling him up. The brief echoes of the stretch of it are fading fast, and in their wake, it is all he can do to sit still and be patient.

"Oh, excellently done, dear," Vestra says, purring in his ear, and rubbing at his shoulders encouragingly.

Hubert looks indignantly at Vestra, but Ferdinand is shivering with the electric bolt of pleasure that's gone through him at the words. Vestra, noticing Hubert's glare, coos at him, "And how are you doing? All set? Do you need any other guidance?"

Hubert clearly takes a moment to collect himself. "Oh, the very moment I find myself in need of such guidance as a notable expert in this matter as yourself can provide, I will let you know with all due haste." His smile is more of a bearing of teeth, and Vestra chuckles.

Ferdinand can feel the unrelenting press of the weight inside him, unmoving and inescapable. Its stillness is nearly unbearable. He is on edge, constantly anticipating movement, primed for it, longing for it. He has nothing to do but picture the scene in his head. He is currently being violated in broad daylight, entirely bare, with dark-clothed, sinister men flanking him. He cannot even bring himself to think of the level of scandal involved in any part of this being witnessed, what it would say about him. What it does say about him.

Vestra's voice breaks into his fevered thoughts. "And as for you, Ferdinand, clearly I don't have to ask," and Ferdinand can feel Vestra's grin grow behind him. "Look at you, sitting so prim with a cock snug inside you. What a content little deviant."

Ferdinand gasps, and his traitorous cock twitches. "I am only doing this at your direction!"

"That may be so, but I didn't tell you to get so wet about it," Vestra says, hand ghosting over Ferdinand's cock, but not quite touching it, and the damned thing twitches once again with a nearly silent splatter. Ferdinand has been stridently ignoring it, but he is indeed entirely wet, cock painfully flushed and fully dripping onto Hubert's uniform. The whole of it glistens tellingly in the light.

"Hubert!" Ferdinand scolds, only it comes out as more of a moan. Hubert beneath him jerks, causing Ferdinand to hiccup as Hubert's hips jump the once and then forcibly still, Hubert's face a focused grimace.

Vestra's thumbs rub at his shoulders. "Yes, dear? Are you not actually as content as you seem? Did you want something more? For me to play with your tits, perhaps?" Vestra says, sympathetically.

Ferdinand shudders. In... in disgust, at so vulgar a suggestion. "No! I do not. And do not refer to them... to my chest, in such a rude way!"

Vestra tuts. "Are you quite sure though, dear? It is your favorite."

Ferdinand cannot believe what he is hearing. He says, insistently, "It is not!"

Vestra hums thoughtfully. "Oh, my, you're correct. To be precise, I should say that it is one of your favorites."

Ferdinand flushes even more, somehow, and darts a glance down at Hubert. Hubert is looking at him with the focused interest he brings to bear on any perceived vulnerability, and Ferdinand has to look away immediately. Damn Vestra, anyways. "That is not... falsehoods aside, I still do not want or require your offered assistance!" he says, drawing himself up straight.

Vestra slowly moves his hands down, over his shoulders, over his chest, not quite near his nipples, and Ferdinand can't help his shiver, can barely stop himself from pushing out his chest. Then Vestra abruptly draws his hands back and says, "No you're right, better not, you'll go off far too fast if I do."

Ferdinand gasps. In indignation. "I would not! I would not be brought low by something so indecent," he says. He crosses his arms over his chest. Carefully.

Vestra's voice is rich with amusement. "Oh, Ferdinand, don't lie, it's not becoming."

The nerve of this man. "I am not lying!"

Vestra leans in even more, and says, low in Ferdinand's ear, "Why don't you prove it then," and Ferdinand feels his heart drop. "Play with your own tits. If you dislike the vulgarity of it all so much, that should surely leave you completely unmoved."

Ferdinand grits his teeth. Well. Now he has been challenged, and how is he to ignore it? And surely Vestra does have a point, if Ferdinand is the one doing it, if he's in charge of his own actions... "Fine," he says, tossing his hair back. "I shall prove it to you."

Hubert chuckles, and Ferdinand whips around to glare at him. Hubert only raises an eyebrow, challengingly, and Ferdinand uncrosses his arms and raises his fingers in a challenge of his own. His annoyance allows him to overcome his reluctance to perform such a shameless act, and he tweaks at his nipples.

Oh, this was a mistake.

They've been made that much more sensitive from all the prior efforts applied to them, and even this small of an action sends a zing straight to his cock. He can barely choke off the noise he wants to make, can't help his hips shifting, his eyes going heavy lidded. He notices absently that the smile seems to have dropped off Hubert's face, which is satisfying, but still leaves him with this problem of his own making. Why does he have to be so very sensitive here, anyways? Like a woman would be, and he rubs at his nipples a little more harshly than he intended at the thought and brings a whimper out of himself before he can throttle it. Hubert's hands clutch at his hips and his fingers dig in deeper.

Now that he's started, Ferdinand can't seem to stop himself, or even slow down. He keeps rubbing and pinching at his nipples, grabbing his own chest, it feels far too good to stop. His hips are shifting back and forth, unable to keep still as requested. How can he, when movement gives him at least the slightest bit of what he's craving, gets him at least a little bit fucked, gets his cock sliding across Hubert's jacket for the barest bit of stimulation. His motions get bolder and bolder, and Hubert's hands cannot hold him, he can't even remember why he would be staying still, all that is in his mind is the chase after getting pleasure enough between his hips to mirror the pleasure at his chest from his busy fingers.

Vestra chuckles behind him and murmurs, “Not your favorite, hmm?” and he will absolutely respond to that impertinence, he will, he is just… forgetting, somewhat, what he’s responding to, as his fingers rub ceaselessly at his chest, as he finds and then loses and then finds again just the right angle to get the cock inside him to give him what he needs, to get his cock rubbing against anything at all in any meaningful way.

And then his cock catches on some part of Hubert's uniform - a button, some trim, it matters not. The sharp pinch of the stimulation thrills through him and rips him over the edge with a shock. Pleasure high and sweet and almost filthy seeming floods through him as his cock jerks and he comes all over Hubert's jacket. It feels almost endless, like he's being sated and at the same time just as hungry for it as ever, and as the last shocks die off the want does not truly fade, leaving him still grinding, chasing any fleeting bit of stimulation, getting his cock wet in his own spend.

"Oh dear, Ferdinand, look at what a mess you've made," Vestra says, and Ferdinand stills. Somewhat. His cock throbs, far too soon, as he looks down over the expanse of Hubert's soiled jacket. Vestra strokes his shoulders, consolingly. "Poor pretty thing, you couldn't help it, could you?" he purrs. Ferdinand whines urgently.

Vestra turns his attention now to Hubert. "And nicely done indeed. I rather thought I must be remembering the timing correctly, but even so, that's still quite a new spell in our repertoire, yes?" Vestra says.

As soon as he says it Ferdinand realizes that he does feel the prickling tang of magic in the air, and he comes somewhat back to himself. He turns to look back at Vestra as best he can. "Have you been conducting some kind of horrid magic experiment on me this whole time?" he demands indignantly.

Vestra smirks and says, "Oh dear me, not on you. Would you like to explain it, Hubert?"

Hubert just sneers at him, still panting slightly.

"Yes, yes, I suppose at this point out of the two of us I would have a better understanding of the magical theory involved," and now Hubert is looking at Vestra with pure loathing. "You see, Ferdinand, I - we? - realized that there was a potential alternate use for a stray spell we'd been researching. One that would, ah, stave off the moment of the culmination of one's pleasure."

Ferdinand thinks for a brief moment, and goes deeply red. He looks at Hubert, and then quickly looks away. "Oh, ah, you mean..."

"Yes, and a very well timed application, if I do say so myself," Vestra says. Hubert does not look at all grateful for the praise.

Ferdinand has a sudden realization. "Wait! If you have got a spell to... prolong things, why this need for stamina practice?"

Vestra tuts at him, "What better way to practice than under the same conditions where you'd be using the spell?" Ferdinand catches the tail end of a slightly confused look from Hubert. Vestra continues, "And being able to prolong the time needed until the spell is called for is beneficial; one doesn't like to rely on slinging spells in delicate situations unless one absolutely has to, and we've only got so much mana to deploy besides."

Hubert is frowning at Vestra, puzzling Ferdinand, but Vestra's next words distract them both. "Now, if you'd kindly resume," he says.

Ferdinand absently rubs over his nipples once again in response before remembering himself and tearing his hands away, refusing to look at anyone and blushing furiously.

Hubert makes a bitten-off noise. "Just how long do you plan on continuing with this nonsense?" he spits out.

"Well, that's rather up to you, is it not?" Vestra says, reasonably.

Hubert huffs, but seems to concede the point. Ferdinand... finds himself remaining where he is as well. It is true that they haven't reached the, ah, end of this exercise. They might as well continue.

As they sit, Hubert's hands restlessly grasping at his hips, Ferdinand keeps rocking on his lap, just a little bit, he can't not, it's too much and too good to stop all at once. Now that he's come, every inch of the cock pressing inside him is suddenly all too evident, purely physically present in a way that was previously lost in the heady wash of being filled, not quite comfortable. But at the tail end of each movement the discomfort also comes with a desperately sweet jolt of pleasure that drives him to carry on.

He abruptly realizes that he's been steadily whimpering as Hubert starts making small, wretched noises in chorus with his own. He can feel Hubert's hips start to jerk, and it is much too soon for that kind of vigorous action except that it just keeps striking that same lagging note of pleasure, and Ferdinand whimpers more and squirms both towards and away from it. Hubert looks up at him at the movement, mouth open, and looks almost lost as his gaze traces Ferdinand from head to waist, motions getting increasingly forceful, dizzyingly so, until within a handful of thrusts Ferdinand can feel Hubert releasing inside of him. Ferdinand arches his back and keens at the feeling, knowing Hubert's come, that it was him who brought him to completion, got him to lose his control.

Ferdinand sags back down and the two of them spend a moment or two just gathering their breaths.

"Not bad," Vestra says, from behind Ferdinand. Hubert just tiredly rolls his eyes. He begins to shift, to accommodate Ferdinand's getting up but then Vestra raises a hand. "Ah. No, not quite yet." Ferdinand is puzzled, as clearly is Hubert. "If I know myself, Hubert should be mostly hard still, yes?"

Ferdinand blushes, because, well, yes. He is. Hubert's eyes only narrow and he stays silent, obviously unwilling to play along.

"Hmm," Vestra hums smugly, accurately reading their silence as assent. "Then let us try again."

Hubert is apparently so far gone that Ferdinand actually sees him mouth the word "us" back, mockingly.

Ferdinand is stretched, muscles burning from their exertion in a way that sends pleasant zings through him, not quite sore but feeling the promise of it, and increasingly filthy with come. What is the meaning of this? Vestra chuckles and he realizes he himself is far gone enough to not have realized that he asked that last out loud.

"I have to admit, although I think the practice will be good for this one," he nods at Hubert, "it's really for your sake, my dear." Ferdinand makes a face at him. "Ferdinand, here," and now he turns to Hubert again, ignoring Ferdinand in a stately way, "just can't be satisfied with only coming the once."

Ferdinand draws himself up with dignity, even blushing furiously as he is, and issues his best, "I beg your pardon?"

Vestra continues on, serenely ignoring him, "Oh, he'd never complain, would never impose, but he's so needy it can't help but be written all over his body that once is nowhere near enough."

Ferdinand must interject once more. "Is that not your idea and not mine? I am fairly certain that I've told you that once is quite enough, a number of times!"

Vestra turns to him, suddenly all solitious concern. "Oh, dear, has it been my mistake all this time? Well then, let's stop here, since if so you surely must be completely satisfied. What say you?"

Ferdinand is thrown off balance by the easy acceptance. Then he seriously considers it, and feels himself going more and more red, mouth opening and closing. He truly didn't even know that about himself, just always thought his Hubert was indulging himself in toying with Ferdinand and his reactions, his new and improved method of tormenting him. But no. He doesn't want them to stop. He doesn't want to lose the feeling of being filled yet. Vestra's eyes roam his face, and his smile grows, smug and fond at once.

"As I thought," Vestra says, and turns from Ferdinand once again as he sputters, pitifully. "There's nothing to it really," Vestra says, back to addressing Hubert. "He goes over so easily. Why, we never even touched him and he went off just now."

"Now that is a bare faced lie, you have both touched me quite a bit over the course of this endeavor," Ferdinand says, indignant.

"But neither one of us ever touched your cock, at any point," Vestra points out, sweetly.

Ferdinand pauses. Surely not? Surely that's not true... he has gone this entire time untouched? He cannot name the overwhelming heat that floods him as he realizes that it is quite true, actually. He came without his cock once being touched by anyone.

"And so now, you'll see, if you do touch him here..." Vestra says, hand moving down.

However, Hubert interrupts. "I believe I can take things from here." he says, looking at Vestra.

There's silence for a long moment, and Ferdinand can feel a slight tension in the body behind him. He would perhaps see if he could intervene, but he's much too occupied at the moment, and anyways, let the two of them work it out. Each one having to deal with the other is the bare minimum of what they deserve.

"As you say," Vestra finally says, neutral. "Let's see how you do."

Hubert smirks in triumph at Vestra, and his smirk only falters the very slightest bit as he turns his attention to Ferdinand instead. His fingers drum almost nervously for a moment on Ferdinand's hips before they still. Then, taking a subtle breath, Hubert releases his hip and wraps his fingers around Ferdinand's half-hard, messy cock. Ferdinand shivers, and Hubert's hand tightens in response, which helps nothing.

As Hubert proceeds and his cock both aches and thrills to the touch, Ferdinand feels his mind fragmenting, overwhelmed. Hubert's face, intent on the work of stroking Ferdinand's cock into humiliatingly swift hardness. Vestra's hands on him, that he is and has been watching the entire time, Ferdinand's reddened cock disappearing into Hubert's hand. Ferdinand's desire is so blatant, has been exposed on more than one level, he cannot hide even from himself how his hips are already working to push his needy cock into Hubert's grip, to push himself back down on the cock inside him that's also beginning to grow even harder as he works. He can feel the mess of Hubert's come work its way out of him as he rides him with increasing urgency, and the feel of it just makes him burn hotter. He's a mess, inside and out, and the thought of it isn't able to check him in the slightest, he just needs more. More inside him, harder, faster, all of it, the pleasure this time building deeper and just as urgent as if he had not just come. Hubert responds to the words he hadn't realized he'd been saying, going faster, beginning to truly thrust into him now, stripping his cock. Ferdinand is so close, it's exactly what he wants, and then he has Vestra's fingers in his mouth, filling him even further. Once again Vestra's words echo in his head, as it really does feel like he’s melting, the weight on his tongue and stretch of his mouth deeply satisfying to the ravenous desire in him. He has a few brief, perfect moments of being so fucked and so full before the pleasure crests and he feels as though it's all almost too good, that he's too satisfied to actually really feel anything, and then it's as though he feels too much, and then there is just the glory remaining as his cock once again spends across Hubert's front.

"There you go, dear, just like that," Vestra murmurs in his ear as he shudders with the aftershocks. "Well?" he adds in a much sharper tone. Ferdinand blinks away the tears from his eyes and sees that he must be addressing Hubert, who's looking up at Vestra poisonously. Presumably due to his interference, fingers still gently petting Ferdinand's tongue before withdrawing. "You're not about to give up now, are you? Let's see how long you can last this time," Vestra says.

"As you wish," Hubert says, with awful sarcasm, and Ferdinand yelps as his hand starts working once again.

"What are you, no, it's too much, I," he says, and Vestra coos, "Oh, Ferdinand, you're not about to give up either, are you? I know you're not," and Ferdinand writhes.

"You always do this, you're always pushing, I-aah!" he ends in another yelp as Vestra's fingers descend onto his chest, the one set wettened with his spit, the other dry, and the both of them agonizing, pulling and rubbing.

Ferdinand cannot stop making noises, terrible wounded noises, everything so very much, and Vestra says in response to his aborted chastising, "Love it? I know you do, my dear, you look so very beautiful when you're lost like this, I can hardly bear it."

Ferdinand wants to hide his face quite badly, but he can't, he's trapped between the two of them, both bent on ruining him. He is clutching at Vestra's arms, at Hubert's, the chair, trying uselessly to find some sort of stability. There is only pain and pleasure and the terrible, terrible yearning once again for more.

"Look at you, you're a vision. To have you is a stroke of good luck I'll surely pay for a hundred times over, but every second of this would be worth a thousand years of torment," Vestra says.

"That... that seems a bit much, doesn't it?" Ferdinand says, more tears forming in his eyes. "You do not need to be so excessive, dear, it," and his Hubert pinches at him with loving viciousness.

"And what need do I have to lie, when you come to me so easily like this? When I hardly have to do anything at all to get you naked and riding a cock like you need it like air? My insatiable, incomparably lovely, foolish little slut, how dare you accuse me of lying." His hands have not let up one whit, neither of theirs have, and Ferdinand cannot stop keening.

Hubert has devolved into open-mouthed panting, fist still working on him furiously, hips jerking up into him and filling him again and again, and Ferdinand has lost track of the number of times he's felt the faint sting of mana in the air.

"Come for me, Ferdinand, and give me the pleasure of knowing again one of the greatest joys I can conceive of," his Hubert says in his ear, beloved and devastating, and Ferdinand wails as he is overcome with a rush of feelings and sensation both. "Yes, there you are," he says, triumphant, his fingers unrelenting still.

Underneath him young Hubert thrusts violently once, twice more, and then chokes and Ferdinand can feel how he is flooded once again, the knowledge inconceivably managing to heighten his pleasure.

He drops down, panting, leaning back onto his Hubert's steady presence behind him. His Hubert's hand cradles his jaw and turns it so Ferdinand can meet his lips as he kisses him passionately, lovingly as he would have never guessed Hubert would be capable of in spite of all the tender emotion that his fervent loyalty to their Emperor would suggest. Ferdinand knows better now, of course. His cunning, underhanded, impossible, infuriating, marvelous Hubert. He freely loses himself to his kisses, hands coming up to clutch at his arms.

-----

As the two Ministers kiss, Hubert attempts to gather some small fragment of dignity about him. Or at a minimum, to stop panting his breaths like a racehorse. He gives himself enough time to at least accomplish the latter before speaking up.

"Are we quite finished now?" he says, and the two finally break apart. Disgusting.

Vestra looks over at him, unamused. "Really, I seem to have been much more uncouth than I remember," he murmurs to himself, as though there was any single solitary couthful thing about this entire proceeding.

Hubert contents himself with an impatient look. Vestra, sighing, says "Oh, very well," and unhooks his cape deftly, ensuring that Ferdinand remains secure all the while. Ferdinand is resting his head on Vestra's chest, blinking sleepily. He makes no demur when Vestra eases him up gently, Hubert assisting slightly, particularly in the matter of... disengaging any bodily parts. As Vestra wraps his cape around Ferdinand and scoops him up into his arms, Ferdinand only sighs slightly and rests even more easily against him. Hubert finds himself thinking that Ferdinand's absent, unthinking trust is a thousand times more eloquent than all the nonsense Vestra had been spouting before.

Vestra then nods at him, all business, and swoops away with his prize in his arms. Off to go dote over him while spouting more mawkish garbage, no doubt. Hubert can hear Ferdinand faintly protesting their abrupt exit and subsequent abandonment of their guest in a sleepy voice, but Vestra's stride never falters as he makes his swift exit out of the room.

Which indeed leaves Hubert alone, sprawled on the armchair. Fine. Hubert is quite capable of fending for himself, even in such... unique circumstances such as these. First, he makes himself somewhat decent, and then he rises from the chair. Then, speaking of decency, he thinks to remove his jacket and surveys it with some dismay. He will certainly have to attend to the washing of this himself. There's no way even he could coolly hand over this thing to the laundry services to deal with.

As he contemplates that horror, he seems to be a little too overcome by the thought, vision swimming slightly and feeling a bit dizzy and weak-kneed. There's some kind of thunderous sound echoing in his ears as well. As his vision suddenly clears up and the world around him snaps into focus, he discovers the actual cause of his sudden indisposition. He is back in his room at the monastery, no obnoxious ministers in sight. A blessing in every way, aside from the annoying pounding sound, which appears to have originated in reality.

He tosses his filthy jacket aside and strides up to the door in irritation, yanking it open. Doing so reveals none other than Ferdinand von Aegir himself, but now properly dewy faced and fluffy headed and annoying. Hubert finds that his trials have even made the sight of his own familiar Ferdinand welcome, his spirits feeling a slight lift. And then per usual Ferdinand has to ruin things by opening his mouth.

"Hubert! What on earth is the matter with you? We were supposed to be cleaning the stables a half hour ago, and I have not been able to find you anywhere! Did we not agree to meet at the dining hall beforehand? Do you truly hold your own word so cheaply? I would not have credited it, and yet, here we are!" he says. Ah yes. A familiar Ferdinand indeed. And now that he's been spun up, he's likely to continue in this vein for the entire afternoon, and Hubert feels that he has been through quite enough today already as it is.

Hubert pauses. That is true, he did learn a great deal today, did he not? Well, and why not. "My sincerest apologies," he says, "for my unavoidable tardiness," and he grabs at Ferdinand's hand, who is shocked enough at the action to actually let him, and then he proceeds to gracefully bestow a kiss on the back of Ferdinand’s glove. Ferdinand blushes just the slightest amount, but his eyes are starting to narrow, clearly wondering if this is a jest. Smoothly, Hubert turns his hand over and bestows a second kiss on the skin of Ferdinand's wrist, in the gap between Ferdinand's glove and his jacket.

Ferdinand colors up entirely red with a squeak, and snatches his hand away. "I... I... Meet me downstairs! In the dining hall! For the mission!" he says, and turns and veritably runs off.

Amusing, quite amusing. Hubert feels a lightness bubbling inside him, and he smiles. That so-called training was good for something, at least. A new and wonderfully effective way to get Ferdinand in line, and entertaining to boot. He'll have to use this knowledge judiciously, surely, or else it'd lose its effectiveness, but he's already thinking of a way he could apply it during this upcoming mission. To think, he had thought that today would be quite tedious. He doesn't notice that he's humming to himself as he swiftly prepares himself for the day ahead.