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Aemond walked the dimly lit hallway at an even pace. He did not hurry nor dally. His prize would be there either way. Hurrying would show him too eager, and dallying would show him nervous.
He did not want to seem like either of those things.
Once he got to the room, he dismissed the guards and stepped inside. His gaze went to the figure on the bed bathed in candlelight.
Lucerys Velaryon. His Lord Strong.
The younger man glared at him, probably would have shouted obscenities if he could, probably would have tried to attack him too, vicious thing that he was. However, the red silken gag and restraints did not allow for it.
Though it did not keep the boy from trying, thrashing and pulling all the while looking like he wanted to kill Aemond with his gaze alone.
“Hello, my Lord Strong,” said Aemond, walking closer to the bed, his heart starting to beat faster and faster. Finally, he had the wretched little bastard right where he wanted him. Finally, the boy was at his mercy.
The older prince sat down on the bed and ran a hand along of the restrained arms. He expected the other to flinch, show some fear, but Lucerys’ gaze seemed to be even more hateful, his muffled shouts louder.
That would not do. Aemond wanted the brat afraid.
Slowly, he pulled himself even closer, climbing on the bed and looming over Lucerys, his hand on the other boy’s throat before he could even think about it.
“Such a pretty neck,” he said, squeezing just a little, “Maybe I’ll break it after taking your eye or maybe I’ll squeeze it until your eyes pop out. How about that, hmmm?”
Lucerys tried to head butt him in retaliation. Aemond grabbed his hair and pulled him backwards.
“Little shit,” he growled and brought out a dagger. Finally, Lucerys stilled, his gaze following the sharpened weapon. However, when his gaze came back to Aemond, it was still the same. Defiant. Unafraid.
Aemond wanted it gone, wanted to break the hold the bastard had on himself. He took the dagger and gently dragged it over the boy’s face. Over his eye, his cheek and down to his lips.
“I’m going to cut the gag and you’re going to behave, alright?”
The gag came apart with a snip, and Lucerys instantly buried his teeth in Aemond’s hand. The dragger fell, and Aemond pulled back with a shout, blood dripping from the wound.
“You little shit,” he said shoving the boy against the headboard.
“Fuck you, uncle,” said Lucerys, blood spitting out.
Aemond eyed those lips, stained with blood, and grinned. If the dagger and threats were not going to shake his nephew, then maybe he could unravel him another way.
Without much warning, Aemond bent forward and captured Luke’s lips with his own. He half-expected another bite but Lucerys started kissing him back. His soft and plump lips moved against Aemond’s. Aemond deepened the kiss until their tongues met.
When they came up for air, Aemond looked at his nephew and grinned. The defiant look was gone and replaced by something dazed and confused.
“Uncle?” Luke whispered
“You liked that, didn’t you, bastard?”
Luke growled, but the redness of his cheeks gave him way.
Aemond smirked and dove in again, this time his mouth at Lucerys’s throat and his hand travelling under the boy’s night gown to fondle his half-hard length.
“Oh, you are enjoying this, aren’t you, Little Luke?” said Aemond
Luke’s reply came in gasps and moans.
Aemond started stroking the boy in earnest, making him more vocal.
“Yes…yes….oh yes…” breathed Luke, “More please,”
“Say my name,” Aemond told him, “Say my name and I’ll give you what you want.”
“Aemond,” said Lucerys against Aemond’s hair, “Aeomond…. please please,” another harsh breath, “Please, Uncle,”
That went straight Aemond’s core, making heart spread in his belly.
“Good boy,” he whispered into his nephew’s ear, starting to rut against the boy’s creamy thigh. “Good boy. Keep saying my name like that,”
Luke doubles his efforts, and Aemond found his movements becoming sharper and more erratic as he hurled closer to his release.
“Just a little more, dear nephew,” he whispered, his stomach tightening.
“Just a little more-
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Aemond groaned and opened his eyes to someone banging on his door.
He looked around. No Luke. No candles. Just the morning light flitting in.
“What is it?” he called out
“You are late to break your fast, my prince,” The guard called out, “The dowager queen is asking for you.”
“I shall be there,” he called out and then buried his face in the pillow.
That was the third night in a row he had a dream like this. This should not be happening to him. He did not desire his nephew, not like that. He wanted his eye, not desire.
“It’s just a test from the gods,” he muttered. Or at least that was what he liked telling himself.
Groaning, he got up and got himself ready as quickly as he could. When he made it to the dining hall, he stopped in his tracks.
Lucerys was here, sitting with his siblings and laughing about God knows what, plump lips stained with jui-
No. This could not be happening. The boy wasn’t supposed to be here for another four days.
And because the gods hate him, Luke was the first one to notice him, beaming at him with his pretty smile.
“Oh hello, uncle,” his smile could have blinded the sun.
Aemond shook his head. “Absolutely not,”
He saw Luke’s face fall, and his queenly sister glare at him as he turned around and headed back out. He knew what they would think, and he was alright with them being wrong. He was not explaining the actual reason he did not want to interact with his second nephew.
He would go to the sept. Maybe the Crone would have some guidance for him.