Work Text:
Hans
To Hans, the most impressive thing about Henry is his ability to dive into new things without any hesitation. From riding to swordplay, it never takes Henry long to become proficient at a new skill. Once he picks up reading and writing, he never stops. Hans notices it first when they leave for Trosky, a small leather bound book Henry always carries around. He can’t stop himself from asking when he finally finds the chance.
“It’s my quest journal, Sir Hans.” Henry explains as he sits in front of the fire pit, quill in hand.
“A quest journal?” Hans repeats and cracks a smile.
“It's a good way to keep track of everything that’s going on; who we met on the road, how many rations we have left… What I fed Mutt.” Henry smiles sheepishly at Mutt, who’s sleeping soundly by his leg. Some guard dog he is. His belly is probably full of pork sausages and god knows what else Henry gave him behind their backs today.
Hans takes a deep breath and looks at his surroundings. There’s plenty of excitement when they first set out from Rattay, but after a full day of riding, only a feeling of peacefulness is left. Almost no stars in the sky. Oats and the rest of the crew are already asleep in their tent, leaving the boys keeping watch for the night. His cheeks are warm from the wine, but he’s pacing himself just fine. He then watches his bodyguard scribble more words into the page.
Henry piques his interest like no peasant ever does. He wonders why.
“Do you write about me too?” The words just slip out from Hans’ lips.
Henry’s hand stops moving and it takes him a moment to look at Hans, his light blue eyes glinting with something he can’t decipher.
“Yes, I do. Only of your brave deeds and greatness, of course.”
“Oh, bollocks! Such a tongue!” Hans laughs. “You’re a quick study, aren’t you, Henry of Skalitz?”
“...So I’ve been told.” Henry shrugs, but he’s smiling ear to ear and then continues to write.
—-
A lot of things start to happen to Hans after that night, mostly bad things, such as almost hanging from the gallows like a common criminal and being kidnapped for the second time. But among those terribly unpleasant moments, there are also incredible ones. Of Henry kissing him back, for example. Or the time where Henry somehow manages to return from his suicide mission and saves him yet again. Everyone toasts, sings very badly, and somehow, Zizka loses his eye again. It is all in good fun.
As the feast goes on, they find an excuse to sneak upstairs. Hans can't help but to let out a sigh of relief when Henry closes the door behind them.
Henry hugs him so tightly that night, his wound opens up again. Hans doesn’t care. He rests his head on Henry’s shoulder, basking in his warmth. In his small room at Suchdol, loud noises from downstairs seep through the floorboards. Everyone is still celebrating. It’s too loud, too cramped. Before Hans could complain, Henry pulls away and strokes his cheek.
“Shall we go somewhere more private?”
—-
Somewhere more private ends up being an old forge in the outskirts of Kuttenberg. Magdalena and Standa seem nice enough and they do not ask questions. Hans is acutely aware that he and Henry are on borrowed time and he’s determined to make the most out of it. He ditches his usual golden outfit for something more subdued, blending in with the crowd. He spends his days running around town with Henry by his side; hunting, drinking, even entering the knight tourney for fun. At the end of the night, they’ll go to the Kingfisher for a bath and then sleep in Henry’s room.
On that small bed, Hans spreads his legs and lets himself be taken night after night.
At first, he was embarrassed and downright terrified by the prospect of Henry taking him like a woman. It took a lot of reassurance and coaxing from Henry before he finally said yes. And then Henry, of course, predictably, proceeded to give him the greatest sex he has ever experienced. Hans woke up sore and satisfied by the morning, with Henry fast asleep on top of him, and he never looked back.
On some days though, Henry would be busy. He’s delivering orders, picking up things, and who knows what else. That leaves Hans all alone to find ways to entertain himself. And it is on a similar kind of day that Hans notices it again, Henry’s book. He couldn’t believe it survived the siege. It’s innocently placed on the desk next to his bed, tempting Hans to read it. He knows he shouldn’t. It’s Henry’s and even though Hans is his Lord and everything Henry owns is technically his, it still feels wrong.
But he’s also awfully, awfully bored. In the end, he picks it up and reads it, expecting a list of orders for the smithy or perhaps a bawdy poem or two.
But alas, how wrong he was.
“What-” He balks. “What is this-”
—-
Henry
Try as he might, Henry couldn’t get rid of that one last speck of blood off his armor plate and hopes Hans doesn’t notice it. He stores all of his stolen items in a separate chest at the inn, before finally returning to the forge. Joints aching from the guild’s long mission, Henry can’t wait for the day to be over and hopes to have a relaxing evening with Hans.
That hope immediately evaporates when Henry swings the door open, however.
“Sir Hans?” He manages to ask.
Hans whips around, the book in his hands falls to the floor with a thud and Henry quickly puts everything together. He curses himself. He was in such a hurry this morning, he forgot to put it away. And now, he has to deal with this.
Hans’ beautiful blue eyes are as big as saucers. His cheeks are red.
“Hans, I can explain-”
Hans takes two long strides and grabs Henry by the collar. “What the hell, Henry?” He asks, voice trembling. “You said it was your quest journal!”
“It is my quest journal.” Henry says, deadpanned.
“But it’s-” Hans shakes his head.
Henry contemplates many different answers, but realizes he’s trapped.
“...It’s mostly about you, yes.”
All of it, actually.
“S-since when?”
“Since the beginning.”
“Why?”
Because I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, you plonker.
“It’s a good way to keep track of things you're doing.” Henry says instead.
Hans blushes even harder at that and releases his grip . “Things…Such things-” He stammers, looking lost.
“Listen, Hans,” Henry takes the blond man’s hands in his.
“...I don’t exactly know when it started, though it was probably right after we took baths together. Uh, before I knew it, I already found myself wanting to learn everything about you.” Henry explains and kisses the back of his Lord’s hand.
“...Oh.” Hans nods dumbly, still looking confused. Perhaps he thinks Henry is a complete lunatic, which is not very far from the truth, if he is honest with himself.
Henry decides to seize the opportunity and closes the gap between them. Hans doesn’t resist, he only looks at Henry with a bewildered expression on his face. Henry proceeds to kiss his lover and slips a hand inside of his hose.
—-
“Henry-”
They end up naked and in bed after all. Hans is on all fours, panting as Henry’s fingers slowly stretched him open. He looks incredible like this. Thick oil drips between his trembling thighs and into the mattress. He moans sweetly when Henry pushes deeper.
Hans. My Hans.
“Do you like it?” Henry whispers to his ear, admiring his work. Maybe he should tell Hans the truth more often, because now he can freely say what’s on his mind this whole time.
“I brewed it with a little bit more comfrey, since your body reacted so well to it last time.” He explains rather proudly. He's been hard at work perfecting his Buck's Blood recipe.
Without warning, Henry pours more of the oil over Hans' opening and shoves his fingers in again.
Hans gasps in surprise.
“...Right here, yes?”
Hans grips the sheets and shakes his hips, fucking himself into Henry’s fingers.
“Yes. Yes- Oh, fuck!”
As Henry predicts, Hans doesn’t last long. He spills his seed, stomach tight and toes curling. Henry strokes Hans’ sweat covered golden locks and kisses the back of his neck as he rides his climax. His body is developing well, already able to come untouched.
He lets Hans catch his breath, before grabbing a handful of his hair and turns him so that he lies on his back.
“Hans.” Henry calls, rubbing his painfully hard cock against the man’s reddened lips. “You like this too.” he simply states, eyes never leaving his Lord.
“...Your cock twitches when it touches your lips, do you know that?” He asks fondly.
“Uh-” Hans shakes his head, eyes turning glassy. This is his Lord. Lord Hans Capon. He’s sprawled on Henry’s bed, naked and willing. He couldn’t believe his luck sometimes.
“Open your mouth, sweetheart.” Henry cups Hans’ face and gently pry his lips open, until his jaw turns slack and he lets Henry in.
Henry watches, mesmerized as his cock appears and disappears from inside Han’s mouth, slowly being coated with his saliva. He guides the man’s head to start bopping in rhythm with his thrusting. There’s barely any gag reflex, Hans takes him willingly, eagerly. Henry fucks his mouth slowly at first, taking his time, both watching and enjoying the lewd act.
Henry then quickens his pace, almost roughly grabbing at Hans' face and the man lets out a chocked sound. Hans’ throat feels so warm and Henry is sure he can come just like this, but he doesn’t want to. He sees Hans stroking his quickly hardening cock and his other hand is busy fingering himself. He probably wants to be taken properly and Henry wants nothing but to spoil him tonight.
With a grunt Henry stops and pulls his cock out of Hans’ mouth.
Hans gasps for air and coughs.
“A quick study, aren’t I?” Henry teases and Hans glares at him.
“You-you sick bastard!" He says in disbelief. "This is what you've been writing in that cursed book this whole time."
"...Uh-huh." Henry shrugs his shoulder, not having much to add. "Is that alright?"
A long silence stretches between them.
"Just-” Hans breaks it first, face completely red. He turns around and spreads his cheeks apart. “...Fuck me here. Properly.”
Henry laughs softly and grants his Lord’s wish.
—-